Volume One: The Youngest Among Three Hundred Chapter Seventy-Six: False Accusation

Chen Chang’an’s pupils first dilated, then contracted again. “Madam Jin… that’s Jin Ruolan’s mother. Oh, her mother?”

“That’s right, Master Chen!”

Steward Ma nodded. “She is indeed the mother of the second victim, Jin Ruolan.”

Already dizzy from the Stone Bridge Town murder case, Peng Wanli, agitated, urged them on frantically, “Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! Back to the post station! This key witness must be protected at all costs—nothing can happen to her.”

He dashed ahead at full speed, with the village head and Steward Ma leading the constables in hot pursuit. Chen Chang’an, left facing the grand procession, frowned in deep thought, unable to fathom what scheme Madam Jin was playing at.

Since she knew the truth, why hadn’t she spoken up when they visited her home that afternoon?

“How bizarre,” he muttered, but nonetheless turned and hurried back toward the post station.

The sun was just dipping behind the mountains, the last rays stretching thin.

“Master Peng, I’ve already transported everything from the secret passage in the Arhat Temple. Would you like to inspect them?” As soon as they reached the post station’s entrance, Constable Wang came forward to report.

“Not now, not now!” Peng Wanli, desperate to hear Madam Jin name the murderer, impatiently shoved him aside.

He burst into the main hall, eyes wide as he scanned the room, finally letting out a sigh of relief when he saw Madam Jin waiting for him. He seized the teapot on the table and gulped down several mouthfuls, quenching the burning dryness in his throat before firing off questions: “You know who the murderer is?”

Madam Jin bowed respectfully. “Yes, Master.”

As they spoke, Chen Chang’an and the others arrived in the hall.

Peng Wanli’s voice rang out, “Come, tell the truth to this official. But remember: every word must be true—no deceit or fabrication.”

Madam Jin’s words were deliberate and firm: “I dare not deceive you, Master.”

“Speak, then!” Peng Wanli intoned solemnly.

Madam Jin spoke steadily, “The one who killed my daughter and the other victims is none other than the village head.”

At these words, Peng Wanli’s ears seemed to snap upright, his face contorting uncontrollably as he exclaimed, “So it was him! I just knew it!”

“Wha—what?”

The village head’s knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground. “I—I’m not the murderer! How could I be? Master Peng, please don’t listen to her nonsense!”

He glared at Madam Jin, breathing heavily. “We have no enmity between us. I’ve even helped your family with town matters. Why would you frame me?”

“Hmph!”

Madam Jin scoffed coldly. “What reason would I have to frame you? Right here, before Master Peng and Master Chen of the Black-clad Guard, do you think I’d dare utter falsehoods?”

She knelt. “Masters, I swear every word I speak is the truth.”

“You… you’re lying! Slander! This is pure slander!”

The village head shouted, face flushed with rage, and lunged for Madam Jin. Fortunately, Constable Wang restrained him.

“Bang!”

Peng Wanli snatched up a teacup and struck it on the table like a gavel. “What are you trying to do? Silence the witness?”

He puffed out his chest, raising his chin arrogantly. “Hmph! I’ve long suspected you, but had no conclusive evidence. Now that someone has testified, do you still deny it?”

“No… no, Master Peng, I…”

Seeing Peng Wanli’s imposing manner, the village head turned to Chen Chang’an, kowtowing in desperation. “Master Chen, I truly am not the murderer. Please, speak for me. I swear I’m not!”

Chen Chang’an pursed his lips, then stepped forward, gaze sharp as he questioned Madam Jin, “Don’t just accuse him—how do you know? And where is your evidence?”

Madam Jin bowed again. “Replying to Master Chen: when he killed my daughter Ruolan and tried to escape, the black cloth covering his face was snagged by a branch and came off. I arrived just in time and saw his face clearly.”

Chen Chang’an’s eyes narrowed. “Then why didn’t you say so when we visited your home this afternoon?”

“I…”

Madam Jin hesitated. “Though outsiders see my family as wealthy, the village head is still an official. I didn’t dare alert him without sufficient evidence.”

“Oh? So you mean you have evidence now?” Chen Chang’an raised an eyebrow.

“Yes… yes!”

Madam Jin clasped her hands in the manner of men. “Masters, these past days I’ve done everything I could to find evidence and finally succeeded. If you search the village head’s home, you’ll see.”

“Constable Wang, search his house!” Peng Wanli, elated at the imminent breakthrough, summoned all his vigor.

Constable Wang snapped to attention. “Yes, sir!”

Amid the pounding of footsteps and the clatter of sword hilts, he led five county constables to carry out the search. Within minutes, they returned bearing a bloodstained dagger and two bundles.

Throwing them to the floor, Constable Wang knelt to report, “Master, we found this dagger and some gold and jewels at the village head’s home. Our examination confirms the dagger matches the wounds on all the victims.”

“As for the gold and jewels, they are confirmed to be the property of the Jin and Du families.”

“So, it was murder for profit!”

Peng Wanli, furious and self-righteous, shouted, “Men, bind the village head and lock him in the woodshed for the night. Tomorrow he’ll be taken to the county for formal trial.”

With both witness and physical evidence, the long-stalled string of murders in Stone Bridge Town was finally solved. No longer would he fear his superiors’ inquiries; perhaps he might even be rewarded for his efforts.

These thoughts led Peng Wanli to glance at Chen Chang’an—so this was the famed Black-clad Guard? At the temple, he’d insisted the village head could only be an accomplice, never the mastermind. How wrong he was!

Men of action may be good for fighting, but it takes a civil official to solve cases, he thought, brimming with confidence.

“Master, those things aren’t mine! Madam Jin must have planted them to frame me!”

The village head, perhaps seeing no hope in Peng Wanli, turned to Chen Chang’an, knocking his head on the ground. “Master Chen, the Black-clad Guard is famed for discernment—please, help me!”

Chen Chang’an ignored him, holding out his hand to Constable Wang. “Let me see the dagger.”

Constable Wang hesitated, but handed it over.

Chen Chang’an examined the dried blood on the blade, then tilted it to catch the light, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

He looked at the village head, face suddenly stern. “Still denying it? The jade ring in your pocket is inscribed with the character ‘Du’—it belonged to the third victim, Du Mingcong. If you’re not the murderer, who is? Confess!”

“Ah, I… I…”

Confronted so suddenly, the village head’s composure shattered. He knelt, face ashen, opening his mouth only to close it again, unable to utter a word.

“What? The jade ring found at the Arhat Temple belongs to Du Mingcong?” Peng Wanli was shocked. “Bring it here!”

Constable Wang quickly retrieved the ring from the village head and handed it to Peng Wanli, who inspected it and thundered, “Indeed, it’s inscribed with ‘Du’—it’s Du Mingcong’s property!”

“Village head, you are truly brazen—killing for money, mutilating the victims. You are beyond redemption! Still you refuse to confess? Men, bind him!”

“I…”

“Master, Master Peng, please let me explain! The ring does belong to Young Master Du, but calling me the murderer is a stretch—I only found his body by the river and, seized by greed, took the ring.”

“Silence!”

Peng Wanli slammed the table, roaring, “With both witness and evidence, you still dare deny it? Constable Wang, beat him until he confesses!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Bang!”

“Aagh!”

“Ow, ow!”

The hall echoed with the sound of cudgels striking flesh and the village head’s pitiful cries. The commotion was deafening, yet to Chen Chang’an, the world grew eerily silent—so quiet a pin drop would startle.

He focused all his mind on why Madam Jin would frame the village head. Could she be the real murderer?

She had arranged the evidence perfectly, but her words and demeanor were flawed. Normally, a mother who knew her daughter’s killer would be consumed with vengeance, not so focused on pointing the finger.

Moreover, the so-called murder weapon was clearly a plant: if the village head had truly stabbed five people with that dagger, both sides would be stained with blood, not one side clean and one side red.

“What is really going on?”

Muttering to himself, Chen Chang’an decided to examine the items Constable Wang had brought from the secret passage, hoping for new clues. He left the main hall.

Sitting at the front, Peng Wanli noticed his departure and laughed heartily. “Ha, he must realize now that I’m the better detective—so much for his grand claims about the village head.”

Outside the hall, Chen Chang’an, whose hearing had been sharper than most ever since his arrival in this world, heard Peng Wanli’s words and smiled as well—similar in expression, yet utterly different in meaning.

“Hey, where are the things Constable Wang brought from the Arhat Temple’s passage? Take me there,” he ordered a station attendant.

“Right away, Master Chen!”

The attendant bowed and led the way to a storeroom. “Everything from the Arhat Temple is inside, sir.”

“Thank you.”

Chen Chang’an nodded and entered, only to find the coroner inside, who piqued his curiosity. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh!”

The coroner turned, recognizing him, and quickly bowed. “Master Chen, I came to catalog the items and their quantities.”

“But your job is to examine corpses,” Chen Chang’an reminded him.

The coroner smiled wryly. “That’s true, but Steward Ma doesn’t understand the medicines mixed in the pile, so he had me do it.”

“Strange, though—besides the gold and jewels, there are bottles of knockout powder and aphrodisiacs.”

“What did you say?” Chen Chang’an tensed instantly.

The coroner nodded. “And there’s even a potent drug that can render a man impotent for life.”

In that instant, Chen Chang’an’s stagnant thoughts about the case cleared, opening up a wide, bright new path.