The Pipa's strings suddenly sang through the air.
With a sweep of her long sleeves, she moved like a diving dragon. Though the dance style was typical of the soft, flowing Jiangnan tradition, in her interpretation it carried a sharp, sword-like edge. As her sleeves whirled through the air, they seemed to shoot invisible silver needles, making observers flinch back instinctively.
"Who is she?!"
"Could she be an immortal descended from heaven?!"
Gasps of amazement rose from below.
The drums quickened their pace. The pipa's notes rang like clashing armies. She spun, her water sleeves striking out like red dragons emerging from their cave - straight at Jiang Yichuan!
The audience drew in a collective breath. The force behind those sleeves could pierce stone.
A flash of surprise crossed Jiang Yichuan's eyes before instantly cooling. The seemingly lethal attack transformed at the last moment into a gentle caress, like a cloud brushing past his ear, deftly adjusting his headpiece's ribbons.
A mysterious smile flickered in the dancer's eyes.
"What magnificent misdirection!"
"Divine skill!"
"Truly unmatched under heaven!"
His gaze fixed on the red figure on stage, lingering on the silver ornament at her ear. Yesterday she had begged for justice at his door, and today they met again here.
Jiang Yichuan's brow furrowed slightly, a touch of displeasure rising in his heart. His fingers rubbed the prayer beads as he pondered this woman's background.
Suddenly-
A cold laugh cut through the night.
"CRASH-"
A teacup flew through the air, aimed at the dancer!
The crowd gasped into silence.
Jiang Yichuan's eyes flashed. His fan whirled out, stopping the cup mid-flight. With a flick of his wrist, he caught it without spilling a drop.
His cold gaze swept over the men who had thrown it.
Taking a sip, he raised an eyebrow:
"Fine tea."
"Give my thanks to your Lord Zhao."
"This Dragon Well is excellent."
The men's faces turned ashen as they slunk away.
On stage, the dance continued as if the violent undercurrent meant nothing. As "Three Variations on Plum Blossom" ended, thunderous applause erupted.
Cheng Xuan spoke first:
"Such moving grace in this dance."
"Swift rhythm."
"Fluid movements."
"Truly masterful."
But Jiang Yichuan shook his head, his tone tinged with disdain:
"Though well-performed..."
"The force was excessive."
"Lacking true authenticity."
The ceremony master raised his command tablet, announcing:
"Now welcoming our third contestant—"
His voice echoed through Peach Blossom House.
But backstage remained deathly silent.
No response.
No rustle of skirts.
Not even footsteps.
The master frowned, calling again.
Still no one appeared.
"What's happening?"
"Has she lost her nerve?"
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
Madam Liu's expression changed. She signaled a maid with her eyes.
As the maid turned to leave, a cold draft swept through the hall.
The candles flickered wildly.
As if something ominous approached.
A piercing scream split the night!
The sound was unnaturally sharp, inhuman.
Like some unclean thing wailing.
The hall fell instantly silent.
Only the candles' crackling remained.
Terror crept across every face.
"D-dead... Someone's dead!"
The maid stumbled out, face ghostly white:
"In the second-floor room..."
"The lady, she..."
Before she finished, Jiang Yichuan had already vanished upstairs like a phantom.
Hu Qi and Qi Feng silently spread out.
Like two shadows.
Silently sealing off all exits.
The entire Peach Blossom House
Had instantly become a massive cage.
When the door opened,
Cold air rushed out.
In the dim light,
A woman lay motionless on the bed.
Clothes disheveled.
Face ashen.
Body rigid.
Already lifeless.
Death's shadow lingered in the room,
Forcing onlookers to step back involuntarily.
Jiang Yichuan knelt to examine the body. His fingers lightly touched the victim's wrist. His gaze swept over her purple lips and bloodshot eyes.
"Poison," he said softly.
"And the killer is experienced."
His eyes cut through the room like blades, dissecting every corner.
"My lord..." Madam Liu stumbled, her voice trembling:
"Please investigate..."
"Whose room is this?"
"And who lies here?"
His voice was cold as ice.
"My lord," she replied,
"This is Du Qingdai's room."
"She was meant to perform next."
Someone in the crowd suddenly spoke:
"Wait... this isn't Du Qingdai."
"I heard Du Qingdai has a twin sister..."
"My lord," the maid said, face pale as paper:
"This is Miss Qingshuang."
"Miss Qingdai's twin."
"Qingshuang has a mole under her eye."
"Qingdai doesn't..."
"Was Du Qingshuang registered for tonight's selection?"
"No..."
Madam Liu's expression grew complex:
"Qingdai was supposed to perform."
Before she finished, a commotion arose outside.
Du Qingdai stumbled in,
Clothes disheveled,
Mind seemingly scattered.
When she saw the body, she froze.
As if struck by lightning.
"QINGSHUANG!"
Her anguished cry nearly shattered the silence.
A timid maid spoke up:
"Miss Qingshuang is wearing..."
"Miss Qingdai's performance robes..."
Jiang Yichuan's gaze pierced Du Qingdai.
Her face changed dramatically.
Head down, silent.
Eyes shifting.
Guilt written all over her.
The Lin'an Magistrate Zhang arrived with his guards.
Seeing Jiang Yichuan, his expression grew uneasy:
"Your Highness, we are humbled by your presence!"
"This matter is grave."
"We hope for your assistance in the investigation."
Hu Qi and Qi Feng materialized behind Jiang Yichuan like shadows:
"My lord."
"The situation is serious. The house is sealed."
Jiang Yichuan's voice was hard as iron:
"No one leaves."
"Until we uncover the truth."
The lockdown order sent ripples of panic through Peach Blossom House.
"We should leave quickly, this place is cursed..."
"How could there be a murder here..."
"Silence! Prince Jing is present!"
Jiang Yichuan stood in the hall, his gaze sharp as a blade, analyzing each person in turn. Under his piercing scrutiny, everyone lowered their eyes.
All except for one figure in red, burning like flame in the darkness.
His gaze swept past the red silhouette, intending to move on, but froze when he recognized her—
Su Xingyao.
She had removed the selection veil, revealing her face. Her honey-colored skin glowed in the candlelight. Among the pallid faces around her, her vivid countenance stood out strikingly. There was something untamed and exotic about her features, eye-catching yet dangerous...
Wait.
Jiang Yichuan's gaze fixed on the pale pink handkerchief she was carelessly holding. Its corner was embroidered with a half-bloomed camellia, the petals layered intricately with subtle patterns.
This familiar needlework...
Where had he seen it before?
He forced himself to focus on the murder case at hand. But that red figure kept drawing his attention like a dancing flame.
Just as he tried to look more closely, their eyes met.
She paused briefly, then looked away.
"There are more pressing matters," Jiang Yichuan reminded himself.
"The mystery of that handkerchief can wait."
He approached the crime scene, examining the victim closely.
Du Qingshuang lay slumped over the table, arms hanging naturally, clutching a handkerchief. Death marks had already appeared on her hands.
"She's been dead at least five or six hours," he said coldly, his gaze sharp:
"Purple lips."
"Death by poison."
The wine cup still held some liquid.
The wine jar was half-open.
Nothing seemed amiss.
A rouge box lay shattered on the floor, its powder scattered.
Windows sealed.
Door lock intact.
In this orderly scene,
Something felt oppressively wrong.
"Who saw Du Qingshuang today?"
The maids and servants exchanged glances.
None dared speak.
Finally, one maid whispered timidly:
"Today was supposed to be Miss Qingdai's performance."
"Miss Qingshuang was never seen."
Moonlight fell like frost over the now-silent Peach Blossom House.
"Honored guests, please remain," Madam Liu struggled to maintain composure, though she was clearly as anxious as an ant on a hot pan. "Prince Jing has questions. Please cooperate until the truth comes to light. We won't delay you unnecessarily."
Several richly dressed patrons shifted uncomfortably.
A well-dressed official muttered, "What rotten luck today-"
Before he could finish, Jiang Yichuan's sharp glance silenced him instantly.
The hall fell dead quiet.
"Sir, that's Prince Jing! Watch your words!" someone whispered, tugging at his sleeve in warning.
The official froze, swallowing his remaining words in regret.
As the crowd dispersed, some still muttered:
"Such bad fortune!"
"Shut up!"
"This isn't a place for our comments!"
Just then, Cheng Xuan approached Su Xingyao, his eyes full of concern:
"Miss Su, are you disturbed by today's events?"
"Thank you for your concern, Master Cheng. I'm fine."
Su Xingyao lifted her gaze slightly.
Her red robes blazed like fire in the darkness.
Jiang Yichuan stood in the shadows.
His eyes traced the embroidered patterns on her dress hem,
Then moved to Cheng Xuan's hastily adjusted sleeves.
The prayer beads turned slowly between his fingers.
Each soft click
Seemed to measure something unseen.
Night had deepened.
A mystery was slowly unfolding
At this courtesan selection banquet.