Chapter 21: Painting the Living Likeness of a Skeleton

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“This young man, Xiao Zhongcheng, was a scion of the esteemed Lanling Xiao family. By the tender age of eleven, he was already renowned for his exceptional talent and beauty. However, later on, his entire clan was implicated in a treasonous plot and ruthlessly annihilated by the Sage Emperor. Xiao himself was meant to perish, but a poem he composed moved the current emperor to pity and spared his life...”

As Lu Shiyilang spoke, he was met with a sharp, reproachful glance from Lu Ling, prompting him to withhold the rest of his words.

At that moment, a constable’s voice reached Murong Huan’s ear. “This is the place, Deputy Lu. The bodies from the well have all been retrieved as ordered!”

With that, before her eyes appeared the dilapidated ancient mansion she had seen in her dreams.

Though long abandoned, it was still clear this was once a noble’s residence of towering pavilions and grand halls embraced by intricate corridors. Golden beast faces gleamed at the gate, and colorful dragon heads adorned the eaves—though one dragon head appeared hacked away by a sharp blade, giving the mansion a worn and forsaken air.

Gazing at the estate, the youth in red, Lu Shiyilang, sighed deeply and stepped forward to explain to Murong Huan, “This was once the residence of Prince Huo, Li Yuangui, brother to Emperor Taizong. A man of great virtue and ability, he was deeply trusted by Taizong and continued to hold significant posts under Emperor Gaozong’s reign. Sadly, in the fourth year of the Chuigong era, the Rebellion of the Prince of Yue and the Prince of Langya occurred. Prince Huo was implicated by fabricated accusations from Zhou Xing, leading to the slaughter of nearly a thousand members of the Li Tang royal family and their households. The court intended to reclaim this estate, but then strange events occurred, and a sorcerer declared the mansion unlucky. Since then, it has been left to decay.”

“What kind of events?” Murong Huan inquired.

“At that time, several young ladies from the inner chambers went missing in Luoyang. Night watchmen claimed to have seen female ghosts wandering this house at night, and eventually the mansion was sealed off.”

Murong Huan noticed that when Lu Shiyilang mentioned the missing girls, Lu Ling’s footsteps abruptly halted, his posture stiffened, and an air of gloom settled over him.

“What became of those missing girls? Were they ever found?”

“No, none of them. To this day, not a single one has been located.”

“So, you suspect that the bones pulled from the well might belong to those missing girls?” Murong Huan asked, stepping over the threshold. Instantly, a desolate, chilling, even terrifying scene unfolded before her eyes.

Upon seeing this, Su Sanlang could not restrain a terrified scream.

Ashu quickly hid behind Murong Huan, trembling with fright.

A wave of desolation suddenly welled up within Murong Huan’s heart. She halted her steps and fixed her gaze on the seven or eight sets of bones neatly arranged on the ground by the constables.

Lu Shiyilang replied, “Exactly. Because you said you could sketch their appearances from their bones, it was you, Deputy Lu, who brought her here.”

“So, can you really draw them?” he teased again.

Murong Huan pondered briefly and said, “Prepare ink, brush, paper, and inkstone.”

Lu Shiyilang’s eyes brightened once more, incredulous as he pointed at the bones. “They’re in this state—can you really reproduce their looks?”

“Even if I can’t, it’s alright. Shiyilang isn’t unreasonable. He has a soft heart beneath a sharp exterior. As long as you’re not the murderer, he won’t harm you.”

Murong Huan smiled slightly at Lu Shiyilang’s kindness, then crouched beside the bones, carefully touching each skull one by one.

“A-Huan, that’s terrifying! Why are you touching them?” Ashu ran over, trembling uncontrollably, unwilling to step forward.

“I told you—they aren’t scary. They were all unfortunate souls,” Murong Huan said softly.

At these words, a rare expression of shame crossed Su Sanlang’s face.

“Why didn’t you think to search this well before?” Murong Huan suddenly asked.

Lu Shiyilang answered, “Because Zhou Jiulang forbade it. The well had been buried and its original form obscured. Only when Zhou Jiulang died beside this very well did we notice something was amiss. We ordered a thorough excavation, and this well was uncovered.”

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“I must say, I truly admire whoever killed Zhou Jiulang—a hero who rids the people of evil. Such courage!” Lu Shiyilang exclaimed. Lu Ling shot him another stern glance, prompting him to restrain his words.

At this point, a clerk brought the ink and paper.

Lu Ling instructed the clerk to set the materials before Murong Huan, then summoned help to bring a screen, covering it with white paper for her to paint upon.

Without hesitation, Murong Huan began to sketch the appearances of the women based on the bones before her.

Lu Shiyilang watched eagerly, breath held, until the first set of bones transformed under Murong Huan’s brush into a beautiful young woman.

“She’s a beauty! And looks no older than a young maiden just coming of age—a true tragedy.”

Then the second set of bones was depicted.

By the time the fourth woman’s likeness appeared on the paper, Su Sanlang could no longer contain a terrified scream.

“That’s her! Lately, she’s been appearing in my dreams, always crying out for help, begging me to rescue them, to report this to the authorities. But I didn’t. I was afraid… afraid my family, the Su, would be implicated!”

Upon hearing this, Lu Shiyilang grabbed Su Sanlang and demanded, “You’ve seen the woman in this painting?”

Su Sanlang instinctively nodded, then desperately shook his head.

“No, I haven’t seen her! I swear I haven’t!”

Still unwilling to confess, Murong Huan interjected, “Zhou Jiulang is dead now. You have no need to hide or fear.”

“Though Zhou Jiulang is dead, his father, Minister Zhou, still wields influence. Without him, Zhou Jiulang wouldn’t have dared kill so recklessly and act with impunity!”

Lu Shiyilang frowned at this, half consoling, half threatening: “Su San, with Deputy Lu here, Minister Zhou wouldn’t dare touch you. Even if you won’t speak, Deputy Lu will find a way to make you. Do you think the Dali Temple’s prison is just for show?”

Lu Ling cast a cold glance as well.

Terrified, Su Sanlang immediately knelt down. “Spare me, Deputy Lu! I’ll tell everything!”

Once he gathered his scattered courage, Su Sanlang began:

“A year ago, I accompanied Zhou Jiulang and two young masters from the Guo and Hou families here. I saw several young girls kneeling on the ground. Their hands were bound, and their mouths gagged. It seemed Zhou Jiulang had just taken these respectable girls from somewhere—or rather, seized them during a raid. Oh yes, he said so himself.”

A year before—right when the Sage Emperor had just ascended the throne—Zhou Xing, wielded like a blade by the Wu family, had ruthlessly executed several prime ministers and princes of the royal lineage, including Prime Minister Wei Fangzhi and Princes Ze and Xu, Li Shangjin and his brother. Most male relatives were killed en route to exile, while the women were sent to the imperial harem or music bureau.

“Zhou Jiulang said he found a new way to entertain himself. Not only did he strip those girls naked, torturing and whipping them, but he also subjected them to cruel and brutal punishments!” Su Sanlang pointed to the fourth portrait Murong Huan had drawn. “That’s her. I was hiding in the shadows, peeking through the door crack. I clearly saw her face, and she happened to glance my way. Though gagged and unable to speak, I knew she was pleading with me—begging me to save them. Oh, she also bore a plum blossom mark on her body.”

Hearing this, Lu Shiyilang could not help but roar, “Beastly beyond measure!” Then, grabbing Su Sanlang’s collar, he demanded, “Why didn’t you report this to the authorities? Even if you couldn’t save them alone, reporting it would have brought the Dali Temple’s officials to their aid. They wouldn’t have died!”

“I—I thought about it, but Zhou Jiulang said if I said a word, his father would annihilate my entire family. I didn’t dare... I truly didn’t dare...”

Su Sanlang kowtowed repeatedly, eyes flickering nervously at the portrait, before lowering his head, sobbing silently.

The abandoned Prince Huo’s mansion fell into a heavy silence, chilling and oppressive. For a long while, the only sound was the faint scratching of brush on paper.

After an unknown length of time, Murong Huan announced, “I’m finished! Come and see.”

Seeing each portrait, Ashu no longer felt fear but sighed mournfully, “So this is how they looked in life! Such beautiful, flowering youth... and all so lovely.”

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Upon seeing the final portrait, Lu Ling was momentarily stunned. Suddenly, he tore the painting from the screen and clenched it in his palm. Lu Shiyilang turned to look, only to see the portrait crushed in his hand.

“Who is this? Let me see!”

“Don’t look!”

Lu Ling suddenly shouted fiercely, exerting pressure, and the portrait crumbled into fragments.

Lu Shiyilang was stunned, gathering the pieces to try to reassemble them, but it was impossible.

“Who exactly is this last one?” he urgently asked Murong Huan.

“I don’t know.”

“Then draw it again! I didn’t see it!”

“Ah Xun, enough questions!” Lu Ling cut him off again. “This matter ends here.”

He then ordered the constables: “Take these remains back and bury them properly!”

“Do you know someone here?” Lu Shiyilang asked Lu Ling, turning to him. “Is this the person you were looking for? Or the person I am searching for?”

Lu Ling remained silent.

At that moment, a clear, melodious voice came from outside the mansion: “Deputy Lu, are you no longer interested in pursuing this case? Do you think Zhou Jiulang’s death makes further investigation unnecessary?”

Lu Ling turned to see Xiao Muchen entering the compound with a guard.

“Xiao Zhongcheng is interested in the case?”

“I am more interested in the one who killed Zhou Jiulang,” Xiao Muchen replied. Approaching Murong Huan, he glanced at her before focusing on the portraits she had drawn.

“Very well drawn! Lifelike, truly gifted!”

After praising her, he looked down at the bones on the ground and sighed, “So many young girls unjustly killed, dying in the prime of their lives—it’s a great sorrow.”

Lu Ling was silent for a moment, then sighed, “It is indeed a pity. But their deaths will never see justice. Not even their names remain after death. Were it not for Su Silang’s sketches, no one would know who they were.”

Xiao Muchen said, “Since Deputy Lu also mourns these girls’ unjust deaths and nameless graves, why won’t you tell Lu Shiyilang who the last skeleton belongs to?”

Lu Ling suddenly raised his head, eyes sharp as he stared at Xiao Muchen.

Xiao Muchen continued, “If I’m not mistaken, this last skeleton should be that of Li Xiaomei, the youngest daughter of Prince Ze Li Shangjin. After Prince Ze and his brother were forced to death in prison by Zhou Xing, Zhou Xing and Zhou Jiulang conducted raids. The female relatives were sent to the music bureau, but when the Ministry of Rites checked the roster, one was missing—that was Li Xiaomei.”

At the mention of Li Xiaomei’s name, Lu Shiyilang’s eyes changed completely. He murmured “Li Xiaomei” several times, then suddenly hurried to the bones and tremblingly touched the skull.

“Xiaomei… Xiaomei…”

Silent rage radiated from him. After a long, low whisper, he suddenly stood and strode to Su Sanlang, grabbing his collar in anger: “Why did Zhou Jiulang kill them?”