A Single Tie Of Long Hair Seals A Lifelong Commitment - Chapter 48.1

“Have they found the person?”

In the inn’s main hall, Geng Ting, the Commandant of Chong’an Prefecture, was sticking a map on the blank wall, coordinating military deployment with Zhao Mingqin. Chen Liangyu and Xie Wenjun sat on chairs listening.

Du Peixun lifted his robe and trotted across the threshold.

“We found her, but I’m afraid she can’t come,” Du Peixun handed over a freshly inked dossier. “The person is in the death row.”

Zhao Mingqin rushed over, snatching it in two steps. “How could this be?”

Du Peixun was then the fifth-rank Prefect, while Zhao Mingqin had been acquitted of his crime and was granted the fourth-rank title of Huaihua Zhonglang Jiang. Therefore, when Zhao Mingqin questioned him, Du Peixun first bowed and addressed him as “General Zhao.”

“The Mountain God Temple in Liangxi City housed some beggars. After this year’s Mountain God Festival, more than a dozen beggars were all murdered, and the one who did it was this Pu Ping’er. She has confessed and signed, and will be executed after autumn.”

Zhao Mingqin said, “Lord Du, is there some misunderstanding? Ping’er is kind-hearted; she would even take an injured wild rabbit home to bandage and care for it. There’s no way she could kill anyone.”

“General Zhao, those beggars are not the only ones she has killed.”

Du Peixun looked around the people in the hall, and under their scrutinizing gaze, he bowed to Xie Wenjun and Chen Liangyu, and, steeling himself, brought the case to the forefront.

“Your Highness the Princess, General Chen, Assistant Prefect Qiu Renshan once served in the Ministry of Personnel in Yongdu, as an Assistant Minister.”

“That’s right,” Xie Wenjun said.

“The case of the murder of the Qiu family’s third son, Qiu Shiyan, in his home on the Lantern Festival, the fifteenth day of the first month of Xuanyuan Seventeenth Year, has remained unsolved.”

“I remember that,” Chen Liangyu said.

“According to Pu Ping’er’s own confession, she also killed Qiu Shiyan.” Du Peixun presented another hemp paper, bearing Pu Ping’er’s signature and fingerprint.

It was her own signature; Zhao Mingqin was very familiar with it.

Zhao Mingqin’s expression was full of disbelief, the dossier crumpling in his hands. “This is even more ridiculous. Ping’er was in Cangnan, how could she travel thousands of miles to Yongdu to kill Young Master Qiu?”

Du Peixun said, “If she were truly in Cangnan Prefecture, how do you explain General Chen seeing this person in both Yongdu and Liangxi City? If General Zhao doesn’t believe it, he can personally go to the dungeon and ask.”

Zhao Mingqin stood there, his expression changing rapidly.

“Princess, your humble subordinate…”

Xie Wenjun anticipated what he was going to say and said, “Settle your family matters as soon as possible. If there is an injustice, report it to me immediately.”

“Thank you, Princess.”

Chen Liangyu stood up and said, “I’ll go with you.”

Zhao Mingqin: “No need to trouble General Chen.”

Chen Liangyu smiled and said, “I’m interested in this person and want to recruit her. I’ll go and ask, and if there are hidden circumstances, it’s better to deal with them promptly.”

The entrance to the dungeon was narrow, allowing only one person to pass. The jailer led the way, with Zhao Mingqin and Chen Liangyu following, stepping down the narrow stairs into the underground.

The base of the wall was covered in dark green moss, damp and decayed, with water seeping from the cracks in the stone. The corridor was wet, as if it had been splashed with water.

The ceiling of the dungeon was low, making it very oppressive.

Rows of cells lined both sides of the corridor, with only a half-person-high, mottled iron gate for ventilation. In almost every doorway, one could see desperate and numb prisoners.

Pu Ping’er was in one of the death row cells.

She had just been tortured and was barely alive. Due to condensation, water would accumulate on the ceiling of the dungeon and, once a certain amount gathered, would drop with a “pat” onto the floor.

The sound of the dripping water was particularly clear in the silence shrouded in death.

Dragging her heavily injured body, she shifted on the moldy straw and sat leaning against the wall.

Her head rested on the wall, counting the drops of water.

One drop, two drops, three drops…

It must be coming to an end soon! It’s almost the end, just like her blood loss, about to dry up.

She lifted her hand laboriously, her fingers tracing and drawing on the wall.

She traced the shape of a house gate.

That was the door Zhao Zhouqing pointed to when he carried her home, as she remembered.

He crudely grabbed her by the back of her collar, pointed at the gate, and told her, “This is your home from now on.” He pointed to himself: “I am your father.” He pointed to a woman: “Your mother.”

Then he pointed at a bunch of people one by one, “Your eldest brother, eldest sister, second sister…”

She was born endearing and lively, and wasn’t shy with strangers. Her brothers and sisters all scrambled to hold her, pinch her little face, and tug her braids.

They were called brothers and sisters, yet none of them were much taller than her.

Zhao Mingqin, the eldest, was only half a head taller than her.

Zhao Zhouqing was a military man; he was conscripted when he came of age and married much later than others. In the barracks, when he wasn’t fighting, he studied military texts and history books. People used to laugh at him, asking if a martial man studying so hard was trying to pass the imperial exam.

He toiled until he was almost thirty, still without a marriage match, and he wasn’t particularly bothered. Later, the old general of the time took a liking to him and married his daughter to him.

This also drew more laughter.

The wife didn’t look like a wife, but a daughter; the husband didn’t look like a husband, but an old man.

Of course, many envied his good fortune, saying to his face or behind his back that a foolish person had a foolish person’s luck.

Pu Ping’er was brought back to the Zhao Mansion like this.

Zhao Zhouqing made her kowtow to a memorial tablet and said that was also her father.

“Why is Father a piece of wood?” she asked.

Zhao Zhouqing said, “When people die, they turn into memorial tablets. Ping’er must remember that your father was a general when he was alive.”

“Then I’ll be a general too in the future.”

She grew to fifteen, and Zhao Zhouqing and his wife started to worry.

The child would be reaching adulthood next year, and she was not yet registered in the household. Their family held an official title, and adding one more person to the household would require a thorough investigation of her origins. If that happened, the secret that she was the daughter of a criminal official would be exposed.

Zhao Mingqin was even more anxious than his parents.

On that day, after a light snow, she was braiding ribbons in her sisters’ room. Her second sister was complaining that she had grown fast, and last year’s jacket was too short this year.

Zhao Mingqin furtively called her out and led her to the back garden, giving her a sword.

It was the personal sword of Zhao Mingqin that Pu Ping’er had coveted for a long time.

She had asked him for it many times, but he never gave it.

“Big Brother, you finally let go of it,” Pu Ping’er’s bright eyes instantly curved into two crescent moons.

Zhao Mingqin waved his hand and said, “I’m letting go of it; it’s for you, I’ll let go of anything. However, I do have one condition…”

Pu Ping’er snorted, “I knew I wouldn’t get your things for free. What’s the condition?”

Zhao Mingqin said, “Mom and Dad want to marry you off, you must not agree.”

Pu Ping’er tilted her head, watching his face turn red to his earlobes.

“It’s the order of parents, the word of the matchmaker.”

Zhao Mingqin became anxious. “Those men are not good people. The one from the Xia family already has two concubines outside; that Wu fellow is unmotivated, can’t even study well, and will surely fail the imperial exams. How is he worthy of you? And the one from the Sun family, the Li family…”

He couldn’t articulate it well, only saying, “…they just won’t do.”

Pu Ping’er burst into laughter.

She turned around, facing away from him, her cheeks slightly flushed. “Then you go talk to Mom and Dad.”

Zhao Mingqin indeed ran to Zhao Zhouqing and his wife and spoke wildly. After much pleading, he received a beating.

Zhao Zhouqing took off his shoe and hit him on the forehead. “Rebellious son! That’s your sister, what filthy thoughts are you harboring!”

“What kind of people are the ones you’ve chosen for Ping’er? Which one is better than me?”

Zhao Mingqin had already been conferred the title of Zhaowu Captain at that time.

Although it was only a sixth-rank military title, achieving such a feat before the age of twenty made him a dragon among men, with limitless prospects.

Zhao Zhouqing took off his other shoe. “Get out!”

The sole of the shoe drew a perfect straight line in the air, landing squarely on Zhao Mingqin’s face.

Zhao Mingqin returned defeated.

Zhao Panzhi and Zhao Guzhi, the two sisters, having watched enough of the commotion, pulled Pu Ping’er into the room, closed the door, and began brainstorming.

Finally, through collective wisdom and drawing on all suggestions, they came up with a brilliant, terrible idea: first, cry; second, make a scene; third, hang yourself!

Zhao Panzhi said, “The move is old, but it works.”

Zhao Guzhi measured her size with a rope to make her a new jacket. “I don’t think Big Brother is all that great. Ping’er’s jacket is too short, and he hasn’t even sent a new one, just a broken sword. Who cares for that?”

Pu Ping’er blushed and murmured, “I care.”

Zhao Guzhi pushed her out, “Go hang yourself then.”

When the thin snow on the treetop had slightly melted, Pu Ping’er carried a bundle of hemp rope and waited on the path to Zhao Zhouqing’s study.

She saw Zhao Panzhi and Zhao Guzhi frantically signaling, “They’re coming, they’re coming.”

Pu Ping’er hung the hemp rope on a branch and tied a knot.

Then, she dramatically recited a line of poetry: “After the new rain in the empty mountain, she hangs herself on the southeast branch.”