Chapter Eighteen: Case Closed

Can someone be condemned simply because of a few careless words from others? What a ludicrous notion! Yet, such a grave incident at Yipin Residence—is it really just an accident? For the moment, the truth remains elusive.

The young women present at the scene hadn’t seen clearly what transpired amidst the chaos. All they recalled were shouts for help and the frantic efforts to extinguish the flames, after which people began to flee, one after another. Thick smoke billowed, filling the entire Yipin Residence. The tragic state of affairs left everyone shaken to their core.

The Court of Justice also dispatched numerous investigators to look into the case, but they were like headless flies, unable to find any leads. This consumed much energy and yielded little progress.

Han Qing, however, hadn’t anticipated that Master Zhu would want to meddle in the matter. Indeed, it seemed there was no affair he wouldn’t try to involve himself in.

“Have you heard about the major case in the city?” Zhu adopted an air of gravity, almost comical in its effect.

“Isn’t the Court of Justice handling it?” Han Qing replied unhurriedly, clearly uninterested. His mind was wholly set on earning money.

“I hear some are trying to use this as an excuse to move against Drunken Flower Pavilion.” Rumors had reached him from unknown sources—so false they could not be more so.

“Some are deliberately spreading word to pursue their own ends. But perhaps it’s worth observing to see what exactly they’re after.” Han Qing answered without hesitation, unmoved by the deeds of these people, let alone the rumors.

“What are you actually interested in? This case has drawn widespread attention; everyone is eager for the latest news, yet you’re engrossed in your books.” Zhu was genuinely frustrated. Was this fellow truly a bookworm?

“There are pleasures to be found within books—have you never noticed?” Han Qing shot him a glance. Clearly, he thought Zhu was lacking something upstairs.

The facts were far from clear. Did Zhu really believe the Court of Justice would solve the case? They would simply delay, placate the victims’ families, and eventually close the matter hastily. That, Han Qing reckoned, was their best course.

“Have you discovered some loophole?” Zhu sensed Han Qing growing ever more peculiar.

Did he intend to drag Han Qing into the matter? Wishful thinking.

“No,” Han Qing replied with conviction. Zhu, finding the exchange dull, drank some tea and departed.

Yet Han Qing was curious—what would those people do next? Was it merely about Yipin Residence? He suspected their ambitions went beyond that. The true motive behind the scenes remained unclear.

For now, Han Qing had mastered a method of refining coarse salt. He could share it with his wife so they wouldn’t have to endure the bitterness any longer.

He gathered all the coarse salt from home, spent the afternoon refining it, and obtained only a small amount of fine salt. This paltry yield left him deeply dissatisfied; so much time wasted, and the output was far too low. Meanwhile, prices kept rising. It was a losing proposition.

Yet tonight’s meal was undeniably delicious. Han’s mother noticed immediately—the food lacked the bitterness of before, and she found it odd.

“Did you add something new today?”

“Mother, he refined our coarse salt into fine salt, so the food smells more fragrant!” Jiang Xiu Xiu replied eagerly.

But she was stopped as soon as the words left her mouth.

“You did this?” Han’s mother exclaimed, a hint of weakness in her voice. “How could you? It’s illegal—who would dare refine salt?”

Her fear stemmed from the current imperial decree forbidding ordinary people from using anything but coarse salt. Only the nobility could enjoy slightly finer salt, though even their salt was inferior to Han Qing’s refined batch. If outsiders discovered this, it would mean execution.

“Mother, they merely forbid us from purchasing fine salt or distributing it. I simply used my own skills to make a small change—nothing in the imperial edicts forbids what I did.” Han Qing spoke calmly. He had thoroughly studied the relevant decrees, committing them to memory.

As for refining fine salt, there was no official prohibition—only a ban on private purchases.

“Son, it’s not as simple as you think. If word spreads, others will accuse you of defiance and treason…” His mother still fretted.

Han Qing nodded. “In that case, I won’t do it in the future.” His calm demeanor surprised his mother—was he truly so obedient?

In truth, he simply hadn’t achieved a satisfactory yield this time. Perhaps his method was flawed. So he used the excuse to reassure his family.

As for Master Zhu, he must have lost his senses! He had gone so far as to petition the court to take charge of the murder case himself. Zhu believed the Court of Justice would never unravel the truth, and thought it better for him, an idle marquis, to step in.

The man had yet to arrive, but his message did: he wanted to meet Han Qing to discuss how to investigate the case. Was he a fool?

“Master Han, at last you’re here. I’ve brought all the case files—see if you can spot any loopholes.” Zhu gave Han Qing a look.

“Why must you take over this case? It has nothing to do with you. Even if you uncover the truth, it won’t benefit you.” Han Qing questioned coldly. Since ancient times, the court had seldom vested real power in marquises—Zhu was certainly clever enough not to get involved in such a mess.

“I’m interested, and besides, several injured parties are my kin.” Zhu explained calmly.

“What if I say that all these files you’ve given me are wrong?” Han Qing glanced over them, responding coldly.

The Assistant Minister from the Court of Justice beside them was incensed. “Who are you to question the Court’s investigation?” His eyes flared with anger—he had long disliked Han Qing, who dared to mock them to their faces. It was intolerable.