Chapter 99: The Door-Kicking Thief Crane

In his previous life, Wang the Second's household had been entangled with Jia Qin's family so deeply that Wang Shu's death remained an unsolved mystery. But in this life, Jia Qin was like that woman Yang from Shatun—from his appearance to his departure, he never once crossed paths with Wang the Second.

Inside the main room, Wang the Second laughed with delight, holding up the copper coins and saying, "I counted them all—every stack has exactly the same number! Haha."

"What's exactly the same?" asked Old Man Wang.

"Ten, ten at a time," Wang the Second explained. "I grouped them in piles of ten, and when I got to the last one, it came out to exactly ten. Haha."

Old Man Wang looked at the two piles of coins in front of his foolish son's hands and knees, and burst into silent laughter.

Wang Xing laughed so hard she collapsed into her father's arms, and Wang Peng imitated his younger cousin, leaning into their grandmother's embrace—so much so that Old Madam Jia suddenly forgot what number she'd been counting to.

The main room was filled with warmth and joy.

But before the widower's house, it was chaos.

Two sturdy young men took turns drawing well water and pouring it out. Who would dare drink water that had soaked a corpse?

Two more village neighbors had already saddled donkeys and ridden together to the Waterside Pavilion. No matter how Jia Qin had fallen into the well, so long as a life had been lost, it had to be reported to the nearest pavilion at once. Someone else had gone to the eastern edge of the village to deliver word—after all, Jia Qin was a junior kinsman of Old Master Jia's clan, a man with some learning. The landowner Jia family could ignore Jia Qin and his mother, but they needed to know of this matter.

Every instruction came from the widower, and as the saying goes: a village with an elder is a village with a treasure.

Wang Zhu, carried on Wang the Third's back, could hardly believe that the corpse lying on the ground had been lecturing him just an hour earlier. "Father, I'm scared. Can I go home and stay a few days?"

Wang the Third looked around. Among the neighbors who'd come to help, none were young children. He said at once, "All right. Your father will take you home first."

"Wang the Third." The widower's voice was not loud—scarcely louder than the tap of his peachwood staff against the ground.

"Old uncle. What is it?"

"You're asking me? Where exactly do you think you're going?"

"Oh. I'm just taking Zhu home first, and then I'll be right back."

"My house is right behind us. Which way are you heading?"

Wang Zhu's grip on his father's shoulders tightened.

Wang the Third moved closer to the old man and said, in a conciliatory tone, "Uncle, Zhu is still young—he's frightened of corpses. Could I—"

"No. As for why Wang Zhu came here in the first place... the truth of it, you and your son know, and I know too. I asked around just now; no wonder it took so long for Wang Zhu to fetch people. He went straight home instead—taking the chance to be reunited with his father."

"Uncle, he's just a child. He came to me first, and then I called for people—it's the same thing."

The widower stared at Wang the Third in disbelief. This man, whom he'd always believed to be the most honest and straightforward fellow in the village—how could he speak such nonsense! A man had died—fallen into a well! Shouldn't you raise the alarm from the nearest house outward? This brat had gone straight home first! And on the way home, had his voice been struck dumb?

At the South Mountain Villa.

The white crane was truly persistent. No matter how many times Wang Ge shouted "I know, I know!" it kept knocking on the door, two knocks at a time.

If she didn't open the door, it seemed the thing would knock all night. Wang Ge first placed all the finished and half-carved wooden blocks into the basket, then picked up a triangular scrap of waste wood.

She slid the door open.

And sure enough—the beast! Just like last night, it tilted its head at her. It wasn't being cute at all; it was sizing up the block in her hand. Its long beak clamped down, dipped low, and flicked—tossing the scrap back inside the room.

What was that supposed to mean? It was turning its nose up at the offering? Wang Ge picked it up and tried again, offering it forward with friendly intent.

The white crane neither moved nor cried. It just looked at Wang Ge.

Then she understood. It only wanted the carved pieces! Spoiled rotten, that's what it was! She shut the door, dropped the bolt, and refused to open it no matter how much the crane knocked. When she blew out the candle, sure enough, after a few moments, the crane finally gave up.

Crane! It left behind a defiant call of protest.

The thirtieth day of the twelfth month.

Brightly colored silk banners hung throughout the curved corridor, the ground had been swept immaculately clean, and pots of blooming flowers adorned every scenic spot before the walkway. The students' morning meal had been upgraded to meat porridge. Wang Ge ate very slowly, savoring every mouthful, letting out a satisfied "Mm" with each swallow—anything less and she could not do justice to the happiness and contentment of the moment.

Regrettably, the porridge could not be doubled up. So she filled her clay bowl with water and drank it like thin soup, still tasting the lingering flavor of meat.

After every meal, there was no need to worry about the clay plates and bowls—one simply placed them outside the door and the serving boys would collect them. She put hers out, went back inside, and shut the door without bolting it. She was reviewing what the master had taught when the door suddenly creaked open a crack... and then a long, black... bird leg shoved against the door, widening the gap.

And then, the thief crane's long beak, red crown, and black-and-white split face poked through.

Both girl and crane were visibly startled.

Wang Ge: Breaking and entering? Who owns this white crane?

The red-crowned crane: Weren't all the students supposed to be at the waterside pavilion at this hour?

Smack! Crack!

Someone had set off firecrackers early in the morning, startling the thieving crane into leaping straight into the room and hiding beside Wang Ge. Just as it thought it had gotten away with it, its beak tip flipped open the lid of the basket and clamped down on a wooden block carved with the character "thing"—but in that same instant, Wang Ge took one step to the door, slammed it shut, and dropped the bolt.

Girl and crane stared at each other again.

The thieving crane admitted defeat, released its grip, and set the block back in its place. Then it puffed out its chest and walked over. Wang Ge opened the door and made a gesture of invitation. It had barely cleared the threshold when the door slammed shut behind it—nearly catching its tail feathers!

"Crane..." it protested.

Wang Ge gave a "Hmph" and muttered, "Not tying your beak shut is already doing your master a favor." She settled her mind and went back to reciting the three-character section of the *Ji Jiu Zhang*.

This section contained a total of one hundred and thirty-two surnames—single-surnames paired with two-character given names, compound surnames with one. At first glance it seemed to follow no pattern, but in truth, rules could still be found. Take the first name, "Song Yannian," and the third, "Wei Yishou"; take "Shi Menghu" and "Long Weiyang."

"Wu Chenglu, Linghu Heng..."

"Chai Guilin, Wen Zhiheng..."

After reading through the passage several times until it flowed smoothly, she began to memorize it. She had no gift for remembering things at a glance—far less clever than her younger brother. All she could do was repeat it over and over; when her mouth went dry, she drank water, and when she'd drunk, she went back to reciting. There was no shortcut.

Jiashe Village.

Ren Suzhi came over in the morning and questioned the widower, Lady Wei, and Wang Zhu in turn. The three accounts were most interesting.

First, the widower. The old man said he had already been asleep when he was woken by a noise.

"Uncle, think carefully. What kind of sound was it? From which direction did it come? Uncle, why don't you lie down, just as you were when you slept last night. That sound... from which direction around you... did it come?"

Following Constable Ren's suggestion, the widower lay down and turned on his side, just as he had woken in the night. It truly was a good method. The old man pointed at the back wall. "It should have been from there. Thud... like the sound of pounding on a wall? Ah, I'm old—the finer details escape me."

Next came Lady Wei. This woman, unwashed and unkempt, wore a terribly haggard expression—save for her eyes, which held a sharp light, brimming with resentment and hatred. She recalled, "Qin had already lain down when he heard someone moving about outside. He said, 'It must be little Zhu again, waiting outside for me to come reason with him.' And yet—good deeds go unrewarded! My son fell into the well, and that Wang Zhu claims he never saw how my son fell in! Yes, the old uncle says he can vouch for Wang Zhu—says that Wang Zhu came into the house from outside and only then heard my son's fall into the well. But Qin wasn't a fool! The ground was icy with snow—what reason would he have to go near the well? I don't believe Wang Zhu had nothing to do with this. Sir Constable, you must see justice done for my son!"

Last came Wang Zhu. Ren Suzhi had assumed that no matter how bad the boy's nature, he was only seven years old and would surely be scared out of his wits. To his surprise, Wang Zhu remained fairly composed, and told Ren Suzhi every story Jia Qin had shared with him from the moment they first met—including the final one he'd never gotten to finish: "two sufferers pitying each other."

"Sir Constable. Jia Qin didn't wish me well, and I was afraid of him. But I absolutely did not harm him. He was stronger than me and taller than me. I couldn't have hurt him."

Ren Suzhi stepped out of the house, brows knit tightly.

The clatter of hooves announced Huan Zhen's arrival, followed at a distance by Iron Wind and Iron Thunder.

"Sir, you summoned me in such haste—is there another case?"

"Mm." Ren Suzhi spoke plainly. "This case is unusual. You're meticulous, which is why I've brought you in from the township to assist me. Come with me."

(End of chapter)