I Am A Husband Curser, And You Are A Wife Curser. - Chapter 30

Chapter 30: A Troublesome Person

Xiangxi had a craving for vegetable buns.

Mother Yang had Yanzi prepare the dough the night before to rise, so they could steam them fresh first thing in the morning.

Xiangxi also got up early. He had Yanzi knead and roll out the wrappers while he prepared the filling himself. He peeled and shredded green radishes, adding salt to draw out the excess water. While waiting, he took fresh tofu bought earlier that morning, diced it, and fried it in hot oil until golden brown. He chopped up glass noodles that had been pre-soaked in hot water.

After squeezing the water out of the shredded radishes, he minced them. He tossed in the tofu and glass noodles, added a handful of dried shrimp and chopped green onions, and seasoned the mixture. Finally, a drizzle of sesame oil completed the filling.

“I’ll wrap the buns. You get the water boiling and start the millet porridge,” Xiangxi directed Yanzi. He sat in the kitchen, deftly wrapping the buns. He had always been a nimble worker, but since marrying into the Yang family, he rarely had a chance to show it.

By the time the eldest sister-in-law, Ming Le, arrived in the kitchen, the first batch of buns was almost ready to come out of the steamer. “How early did you get up? You’re nearly finished,” Ming Le said, helping Xiangxi up from his chair.

“I went to bed early last night and couldn’t stay lying down this morning.” As he wrapped the buns, a bit of flour had inevitably dusted his clothes.

“I’ll handle the rest. Go back to the room and change, and wake up Er-lang for breakfast while you’re at it.” Ming Le saw there wasn’t much left to do; there was no need for three people to crowd the kitchen.

“Alright, I’ll head back first.”

When Xiangxi returned to the room, Yang Tongchuan was already awake. “Wrapping buns is so much work. I could have just gone to the morning market and bought a tray for you,” Yang Tongchuan said as he took out a set of clean clothes and helped Xiangxi change.

“It’s not tiring. You should try one; the vegetable buns I make are delicious.” Xiangxi kept the doctor’s advice in mind: control the diet and get moderate exercise.

When the two reached the main hall, Ming Le was serving the millet porridge. “When I brought the buns in just now, your elder brother couldn’t resist sneaking one. He said they’re better than the meat buns sold outside,” Ming Le said as she added a spoonful of brown sugar specifically to Xiangxi’s porridge.

“Thank you, Sister-in-law.” Xiangxi took his bowl and sat down to eat with the family.

Before they could finish breakfast, someone arrived at the door. Niu Sanli had arrived with his belongings. “Boss, I’m here.” It seemed Sanli had left home before dawn, as his hair was damp with dew.

“So early? Have you eaten? Yanzi, bring a plate of buns for Sanli and let him eat first,” Yang Tongshan instructed Yanzi to lead him to the kitchen.

“Is this the assistant you mentioned, Big Brother?” Yang Tongchuan asked.

“Yes. Does he look alright to you?” Yang Tongshan swallowed his last bite of bun and turned to ask his brother’s opinion.

“Can’t tell much yet. Let’s try him out first.”

“That’s what I thought. The new shop is opening soon. I was thinking of letting him crash in the storage room here for a few days to see if he’s capable. If he is, I’ll let him live at the new shop later.”

“Well, Old Man Niu is an honest man. I hope his youngest son takes after him.” After eating, Yang Tongchuan headed to the yamen.

Yang Tongshan left a bit later. He had Niu Sanli put his bundles in the storage room and, once settled, led him out. “Remember, in the shop, call me ‘Manager.’ Don’t get it wrong.”

“Yes, I understand.”

At the yamen, Yang Tongchuan didn’t have street patrol duty today, so he was just passing the time with his colleagues. Suddenly, a brother on patrol rushed back with news: someone had died in the “Yuexilai” Inn, the largest inn in town.

Head Constable Wang immediately led Yang Tongchuan and the others to the scene. A crowd of onlookers had already gathered at the entrance. Leaving two constables to maintain order outside, the rest followed the manager upstairs.

Upon opening the door, Yang Tongchuan was met with a nauseating stench—a mix of alcohol, waste, and the lingering, cloying scent of intimacy. On the bed, the curtains were partially drawn, revealing a man’s arm.

The constable guarding the room saw them enter and quickly reported what had happened. “We were patrolling nearby when we heard a commotion. A disheveled woman came charging out of the inn screaming that someone was dead. We detained her and came up to find the man already stone cold. And next to him… were some aphrodisiac incenses.”

As the constable spoke, the town’s old coroner arrived. He pulled back the bed curtains to reveal a man in his thirties, barely clothed, surrounded by waste from a loss of bowel control. There were no external wounds, only a few faint red scratches on his chest, likely made by himself in his final moments. His eyes were still open, foam lingered on his lips, and his face was a terrifying shade of purple. He had died a miserable death.

The coroner began a thorough examination. Meanwhile, Head Constable Wang took Yang Tongchuan and the others to question the woman being held in the woodshed.

She was an unlicensed prostitute. The inn’s waiter had sought her out the night before, saying there was business, so she came. This inn did a good business with many out-of-towners, and the owner often acted as a pimp to find women for guests. Head Constable Wang knew about this; as long as no trouble was caused and he received his “tribute,” he turned a blind eye.

“That gentleman was generous, but he was demanding. Any woman serving him had to stay the whole night,” the woman said, now fully dressed but shivering.

“What do you mean? Were there other women there last night?”

“No, just me. That’s what the waiter who fetched me told me. This gentleman was hard to please; he’d been staying for a few days and called for a different woman every night. Every woman who walked out of that room in the morning had weak legs.”

Yang Tongchuan was speechless. What a mess.

“Where did the wine in the room come from?” Wang asked for every detail.

“I don’t know. He was already drinking when I arrived.”

“Did you drink?”

“I did.”

“How much?”

“I don’t remember.”

“What about the aphrodisiac incense?”

“He lit that, not me.” The woman felt she was being set up to take the blame.

“When did you realize he was dead?”

As Wang questioned her, Yang Tongchuan took notes. “This morning, after he woke up, he wouldn’t let me leave. He insisted on one more time, and I complied. But after a moment, he started convulsing. I was terrified. I tried to push him off to call for help, but he suddenly became incredibly heavy, and I couldn’t move him.” Her eyes grew wide with fear.

“Later, when I finally pushed him off, his eyes were fixed. I checked his nose, and he wasn’t breathing, so I…” She couldn’t go on, looking completely traumatized.

Meanwhile, the constables at the scene found the deceased’s Guosuo a combined travel permit and ID. Head Constable Wang looked it over. The man was named Dong Xingzhi, likely a traveling merchant who traded between the border regions and the interior.

However, when Wang looked at the “Relatives” section, he froze. Sensing something unusual, Yang Tongchuan stole a glance.

In the section for family members, written clearly, was the name of his husband’s divorced ex-wife: Lin Yujun.

Head Constable Wang gave Yang Tongchuan an awkward look. Yang Tongchuan could only offer a helpless, bitter smile.

At that moment, the coroner finished his autopsy and reached a conclusion: homicide was ruled out. The man had died of Ma-shang-feng sudden death during intercourse.