Chapter 89: Murder at the Inn

The steward was clearly stunned for a moment, but upon seeing the official warrant, he immediately regained his composure. It was indeed a decree personally issued by the court, and their local merchants’ guild had no right to interfere. In the end, he could only slink away in defeat, gaining nothing from his attempt to cause trouble. This left everyone deeply astonished. Some bystanders who had come to watch the commotion were now thoroughly confused—how had things turned out this way?

“Did you hear? The manager of that hotpot restaurant isn’t even afraid of Boss Du!”

“That can’t be true. The Du family has ruled this place for years. Who would dare provoke them for no reason?”

“You just don’t understand. That fellow isn’t a local, and he has powerful backers.”

Such talk became the subject of many a meal-time conversation. Some people even began to think that perhaps Blue City was truly about to change.

This time, Old Master Du was thoroughly enraged. He had never expected that a man who looked to be in his twenties would dare defy him so brazenly. But with an imperial official supporting him from behind, Du didn’t dare act rashly. Still, he couldn’t swallow his anger and made several deliberate attempts to pick a fight. Every time, he was kicked out by the old beggar. Anyone who tried to show off their skills met the same fate.

Ironically, this drew even more customers to the hotpot restaurant; not only could they enjoy delicious food, but they might also see a good show. Some merchants had long been dissatisfied with the Du family, and seeing someone stand up to them filled their hearts with secret delight. This, in turn, boosted the hotpot restaurant’s profits.

But the matter was far from over. Another death occurred at the Tongfu Inn. Once again, the victim was a scholar, and this time, there were no signs of struggle—it was most peculiar. By rights, the provincial exams had ended a month or two prior, and most scholars should already be home. Why would one still be traveling through the night? It was highly likely he had been lured there.

The manager of the Tongfu Inn was in dire straits. With several deaths occurring in quick succession, he simply couldn’t continue running the place.

“Heavens, am I to die unjustly here?” he cried, dropping to his knees and loudly proclaiming his innocence when the constable arrived. He truly was not to blame; it seemed pure misfortune that such things kept happening.

“Get up and speak properly. No one is accusing you of murder.”

“Yes, yes. This scholar only stayed with us for one night, but for some reason, he suddenly died last night. When the servant went in this morning to clean the room, he found the dreadful scene...” Stammering, the manager finally finished his account. He really had no idea what had happened; he had always run his inn with diligence and care.

“You truly know nothing of these three men’s backgrounds?”

“Lord Chen, we only asked the usual questions at registration; we have no right to interfere further.”

“Do you believe your inn is safe?”

“No, not safe at all. Perhaps you could station some soldiers nearby. Things are not right here at night.” The manager was so frightened he was developing a shadow in his heart; he was truly panicked. Facing such bizarre occurrences, he was at a complete loss.

“Then close the inn for now—”

“My lord, I think the inn should remain open as usual, rather than be closed,” someone interjected.

What? The others looked on, bewildered. They really couldn’t understand: with so many deaths already, how could the inn remain open? Not only would the locals be unhappy, but it would also hinder the investigation.

“And who are you?” the constable said angrily, annoyed at being interrupted by an unknown upstart.

“I’m merely making a suggestion. If you don’t wish to heed it, that’s no matter,” Han Qing replied lightly.

“Go on, then—what’s your reasoning?”

“There have been multiple murders here. It’s highly likely that someone is using this inn as bait, laying a trap. If you keep it running as usual and set up surveillance, you may find your chance,” Han Qing explained calmly.

The reasoning was obvious; if they couldn’t see it, they were truly foolish.

“My lord, we don’t even know who this man is. His words aren’t worth listening to,” the constable said, rejecting the idea outright. Clearly, these weren’t locals and had no business meddling.

“He makes sense,” said Chen Tianwei. “Keep the inn open as usual, so as not to alert the culprit.” He then ordered everyone to withdraw. The scholar’s identity had to be quickly discovered.

At the very least, with Han Qing present, they might uncover more clues.

“Would you like to see the scholar’s room?”

“Haven’t you already searched it?” Han Qing shook his head. The scholar had died without a trace of struggle, so it was likely the work of someone he knew well, or at least someone familiar to him. Start by looking into the scholar’s acquaintances, and the suspect would be quickly singled out.

“Master Han, are you certain there are no clues left behind?”

“Yes. The perpetrator wouldn’t be foolish enough to leave anything. Surely, it was all meant to hide some secret.”

That did make some sense. The constable, who had been skeptical and dissatisfied, now found himself convinced by Han Qing’s meticulous analysis. Clearly, it was their own negligence that had allowed such a strange case to occur.

Three murders in the space of a month, all in the same inn—no wonder the people of Blue City were on edge, worrying about their own safety. It wasn’t that they distrusted the authorities, but they remained cautious nonetheless.

With Han Qing’s help, Chen Tianwei quickly identified a suspect: someone from the same hometown as the scholar, with whom he was known to be close in Blue City. But this man was reputedly a street hustler, earning money through tricks and sometimes frequenting gambling dens.

It was odd that such two unrelated people should even know each other, which immediately made the street hustler the prime suspect. Could he have killed in a fit of rage? Or perhaps someone paid him to do it?

“We’ll arrest this man at once and interrogate him thoroughly. He’ll have to tell us the truth!” the constable said angrily.

Yet Han Qing did not believe the hustler was the culprit. Instead, he suspected someone else was involved.

The hustler, named Zhou Tingjun, had studied for a few years but, for reasons unknown, later fell into his current state.