Being an emperor is not something he can do, so he can only rely on his connections.

Inside the mourning hall, white banners hung low, candlelight flickered dimly, and the air was thick with the scent of incense and a somber, sorrowful atmosphere. However, this sorrow seemed uneven. Kneeling before the coffin were two girls, around twelve or thirteen years old, both dressed in rough hemp mourning clothes, their figures thin. Their faces were tearless, their eyes empty and wooden; they mechanically followed the officiant's chants, bowing and rising like two soulless puppets. Even more striking was a boy, about seven or eight years old, standing beside them. He seemed oblivious to the grief around him, his dark eyes frequently glancing at the cakes and fruits on the offering table. When the adults weren't looking, he would quickly grab one, stuff it into his mouth, and chew until his cheeks were bulging, completely oblivious to his surroundings.

Zhang Jingwei stepped forward, took three sticks of incense from Hu Liushi, lit them on the candle, bowed three times to the heavy black lacquered coffin, inserted them into the incense burner, and then gave a shallow bow to the coffin. He noticed that although the two girls had empty eyes, their manners were impeccable. They immediately returned the bow, their movements stiff but perfectly proper.

Zhang Jingwei's gaze shifted between the young girl and the young Mrs. Hu, and he said with a gentle tone, "I never expected that Mrs. Liu, who is so young, would already have two such sensible daughters."

As soon as he finished speaking, the girl kneeling on the left, whose eyebrows and eyes were more stubborn, suddenly raised her head. A hatred that was not commensurate with her age suddenly flashed in her eyes, and she retorted crisply, "She is not my mother!"

"Jiaojiao!" The more composed-looking girl on the right quickly whispered a warning, reaching out to tug at her younger sister's sleeve, "You can't speak to the mistress like that!"

The girl named Jiaojiao flung her sister's hand away, her face flushed, and continued shouting recklessly, "What mistress! Just some stranger from who-knows-where! Our heartless father only wanted her because she was young and beautiful; and she only wanted his money! Anyway, I will never acknowledge this 'mother' in my life!" Her voice was shrill and particularly jarring in the quiet mourning hall.

An older servant woman from the Hu family rushed forward, both embarrassed and fearful, and said, "Oh dear, my little darling, you mustn't talk such nonsense! Master has just left, this... this is unacceptable!"

Hu Liu's face turned pale then red, but she forced herself not to lash out. She simply dabbed at the corners of her eyes, which were dry, with a handkerchief, and said to Zhang Jingwei with a deliberately suppressed sob, "Sir, please forgive my rudeness. Rongrong, Jiaojiao... they are still young, and they have suddenly lost their father. It's understandable that they spoke without thinking because they were heartbroken. As their stepmother, I won't hold it against them." She emphasized the word "stepmother" lightly, yet with exceptional clarity.

Zhang Jingwei pretended not to notice the undercurrents of this family drama and instead said, "Madam Liu, please accept my condolences. Now that I am here, besides offering my condolences, I also have a duty to fulfill. Would it be convenient for us to go and inspect the scene of the crime?"

A fleeting hint of panic crossed Hu Liu's face, quickly masked by a deeper sorrow: "It's in the backyard... I... I really can't bear to go to that place of sorrow again. Every glance is like a knife cutting me... Please, sir, do as you please." As she spoke, she covered her face and wept softly again.

"Take care, Madam." Zhang Jingwei said no more, signaling Yuan Liang and the others to follow. A servant from the Hu family led the way through the side corridor to the backyard.

The backyard was much smaller than the front yard, with some miscellaneous items and coal piled up in one corner. At this moment, an open space had been fenced off with hemp rope used by the yamen (government office). A human-shaped outline was clearly drawn on the ground with white lime. Within the outline, dark brown bloodstains had seeped into the cracks of the blue bricks, dried and turned black, with some bloodstains dripping nearby.

Yuan Liang stood outside the circle, his gaze sweeping over every inch of the scene like a hawk's. He crouched down, carefully examining the ground, his brows gradually furrowing. He pointed to the main pool of blood within the white line and asked the Hu family servant accompanying him, "After the authorities sealed off the scene, did anyone come in to clean it up?"

The servant, an honest-looking middle-aged man, quickly shook his head: "Reporting to the clerk, no! The officers drew lines and ordered no one to move anything, even chasing away a cat or dog. As for the master's... body, it was only after the coroner from the yamen examined it and drew up a diagram that it was allowed to be placed in the coffin."

"Was Mr. Hu lying like this back then?" Yuan Liang pointed to the human-shaped outline, "face up?"

“He was lying down, face up,” the servant confirmed. “I was the first to find him. I get up earliest every day to open the side door, and that’s when I saw Master…” His face showed fear, “…lying here, motionless, with a pool of blood beneath him…”

Yuan Liang pressed further: "Are you sure that from the time you discovered the body until the government officials arrived and the body was placed in the coffin, no one moved the body or cleaned the ground?"

"I'm sure!" the servant patted his chest. "I was guarding this place before the officers arrived, and I didn't let anyone near. After the officers came, they kept an even closer watch on us."

Zhang Jingwei walked to Yuan Liang's side and asked in a low voice, "Tang Jing, have you discovered anything?"

Yuan Liang did not answer immediately. Instead, he lightly tapped the blue brick ground outside the human-shaped outline with his toe, and then pointed to the area of ​​bloodstains within the outline. "Sir, you see," he said in a low voice, only those around him could hear, "the backyard of the Hu family is paved with the finest dense blue bricks. They are fine-grained, do not easily absorb water, and are very expensive. Usually, only wealthy families or official residences use them."

Zhang Jingwei nodded: "Yes, it's similar to the shop in the backyard of my house. What's wrong with that?"

"The problem lies in this 'lack of water absorption'," Yuan Liang said sharply, pointing to the pool of blood on the ground. Although it was shocking, it seemed somewhat "regular" and "small in quantity" compared to the fatal wound that had "killed him instantly and penetrated his internal organs." "Hu Sheng was a living person, stabbed through the chest and back by a sharp blade, injuring his vital organs. With such an injury, the blood flow would inevitably be surging and cannot be stopped by lying still. Even if he died quickly after being stabbed, the blood would still gush out in large quantities due to his blood pressure. The area soaked by the blood from killing a chicken would probably be much larger than what we see here."

He paused, looking at Zhang Jingwei's suddenly grave expression, and continued, "Moreover, blood spilled on such non-absorbent blue bricks should have flowed and splashed everywhere, leaving messy marks, and might even have accumulated in low-lying areas. But look at the bloodstains within the white line. Although there are splashes, the main pool... the edges are far too 'clear,' as if it's confined to a certain area. And outside the white line, there are almost no decent drips or flow marks."

Following his direction, Zhang Jingwei looked carefully and indeed found something amiss. His eyes sharpened: "You mean..."

Yuan Liang straightened up, dusted off his hands, and said clearly, "Qian Ming!"

“Yes!” Qian Ming immediately stepped forward.

"Following the seam between the bricks, pry up these few blood-stained blue bricks within the drawn lines!" Yuan Liang commanded in a deep voice.

"Alright!" Qian Ming responded readily, pulling a narrow-bladed, thin-walled dagger from his leather pouch—his ever-present weapon, used for self-defense and also for various miscellaneous tasks. He crouched at the edge of the bloodstains, skillfully inserting the tip of the dagger into the gap between the blue bricks, and with a sharp twist of his wrist, a square brick stained with dark brown blood loosened. He carefully lifted the brick and placed it aside.

Everyone's eyes immediately focused on the soil under the bricks.

Dry, grayish-yellow, with only a small amount of deposited dust and debris.

There was no dark red that had soaked into the soil as expected, no trace of blood seeping down, and not even a hint of moisture.

Yuan Liang crouched down, picked up a bit of loose soil from under the bricks with his fingers, rubbed it, and sniffed it. He only smelled of dirt and coal ash. A look of "I knew it!" appeared on his face, his eyes gleaming: "Whoa—! Something's definitely fishy!"

Zhang Jingwei gasped, squatting down beside the pried-open brick pit, his face turning completely grim: "Hiss—! Where's the blood?"

“If there’s no blood under the bricks, there’s only one reasonable explanation,” Yuan Liang stood up, his tone resolute, his gaze sweeping across the backyard like lightning, “Hu Sheng wasn’t killed in this very spot! His body was moved here after he was murdered, to make it look like he was killed here! So, the bloodstains are only on the surface and haven’t seeped in. There might have been a few drops of blood during transport and placement, forming those splatter spots, but the majority of the blood remained at the actual primary crime scene!”

Zhang Jingwei slowly straightened up. The gentleness and regret he had shown in the mourning hall were now completely gone, replaced by a solemnity and sharpness. He looked at Yuan Liang, his eyes filled with undisguised admiration and the excitement of solving the case on the verge of success: "Tang Jing, you truly deserve to be called a famous detective... oh no, a famous lawyer! Your eye for detail is incredibly sharp!"

Yuan Liang bowed and said, "You flatter me, sir. Now that we know the scene was staged, what about Hu Hai's confession..."

"This case is highly suspicious and far from being as simple as it appears!" Zhang Jingwei waved his hand decisively, his voice ringing out in the quiet backyard. "Return to the yamen immediately! This case—re-examine! All those involved, re-interrogate them! Re-examine the evidence at the scene! Defer Hu Hai's conviction for now, keep him under strict guard, and I will personally interrogate him again!"