Chapter 544: A Murder Case

“Ah, young master, your horse doesn’t eat meat—it didn’t even spare it a glance!”

The shop attendant came back inside holding a small chunk of fatty meat, his face full of irritation as he complained to Zhu Ping’an.

“Oh? If it won’t eat, then forget it.” Zhu Ping’an nodded calmly, his expression utterly unruffled as though the matter were of no consequence at all.

“Eh?”

The attendant froze, mouth hanging open. He looked at Zhu Ping’an again—only to find him calmly propping his damp clothes with a wooden stick, turning them slowly over the fire as if nothing unusual had happened.

The attendant pondered for a moment. Then he glanced at the group of people who had followed him out earlier, only to return empty-handed after their curiosity yielded nothing. At last, realization dawned on him, and he let out a soft, drawn-out “Oh…”

Those same onlookers, who had rushed out earlier with eager curiosity to witness a “meat-eating horse,” now trickled back inside as well. Their mouths were full of ridicule and complaints—“What kind of nonsense, horses eating meat? What an idiot,” and the like. Yet now, seeing Zhu Ping’an’s composed demeanor as he quietly dried his clothes—and finding themselves unable to squeeze into the crowded fire pit—they gradually began to understand.

Their earlier laughter faded into awkward silence.

Zhu Ping’an’s clothes were thin, and after a short while by the fire, they dried completely. Around the same time, the attendant brought over the meal he had ordered.

In the midst of wind and rain, to sit down and enjoy a steaming hot meal was nothing short of a blessing.

Zhu Ping’an took out the jar of tender pickled cucumbers his mother had prepared, their crisp aroma rising faintly, and ate with quiet satisfaction.

While he was eating, another traveler hurried into the shop, drenched from head to toe. He appeared to be a peddler, carrying two baskets of goods suspended from a shoulder pole. His steps were hurried, his face anxious.

As soon as he entered, he tried to squeeze his way toward the fire pit, clearly hoping to dry his soaked clothes—and more importantly, the goods in his baskets. The longer they remained wet, the greater his losses would be.

But just like Zhu Ping’an earlier, he tried several times and failed to force his way in.

The wind howled outside, the rain lashed down, and the temperature had dropped sharply. Everyone’s clothing was as thin as usual for the season, and now that they had finally secured warmth by the fire, no one was willing to give up their place.

The peddler looked down at his damp goods, his face full of distress, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“Come here. I’m done drying my clothes.”

Zhu Ping’an, who had been eating, noticed this and raised a hand, gesturing for the peddler to take his place.

“Thank you, young master!” The peddler’s face lit up with gratitude.

“No need for thanks—it’s just a small matter.” Zhu Ping’an smiled faintly and shook his head, gathering his belongings before moving to an empty spot near the door.

The peddler repeatedly expressed his thanks. Once by the fire, he quickly spread out his goods to dry. Fortunately, the timely drying kept his losses within acceptable limits, and his gratitude toward Zhu Ping’an deepened even further.

—

The weather in May was as fickle as a monkey’s mood—changing without warning.

Zhu Ping’an had barely finished his meal when he noticed the rain outside beginning to lighten. By the time he finished packing his belongings and changed into his dried clothes, the rain had already stopped.

Good deeds truly bring their own rewards.

Looking at the clearing sky, Zhu Ping’an allowed himself a faint smile. After paying the twenty-eight wen for his meal, he picked up his luggage and stepped out of the shop.

He secured his belongings onto the horse again. After letting it drink its fill of water, he mounted up and resumed his journey north.

Urging his horse onward at speed, he arrived at a riverside dock by the Yangtze just before sunset—and managed to catch the last passenger boat preparing to cast off.

The ship had a designated enclosure for livestock, allowing horses on board—though it required an additional fare. Zhu Ping’an paid for two tickets and led his horse aboard. A sailor took the horse to the livestock shelter, while Zhu Ping’an carried his belongings into the cabin assigned to him.

There was already someone inside—a kindly-looking old man traveling to Nanjing to visit relatives. Zhu Ping’an greeted him politely, then stowed his luggage beneath the bed and settled in.

Soon, the anchor was raised, and the ship set off, drifting smoothly downstream.

The air, still damp from the recent rain, carried a cool freshness. A gentle breeze drifted through the cabin, and lying on the narrow bed, Zhu Ping’an felt an almost indescribable comfort.

By the time the ship departed, the sun had already dipped below the western hills. Though the rain had just passed, the Yangtze’s water level remained lower than usual due to the season’s sparse rainfall. Along the way, rocks that were normally submerged now protruded above the surface—or lurked just beneath, posing hidden dangers to navigation.

Because of this, the ship moved more slowly than in previous years.

This only strengthened Zhu Ping’an’s resolve to switch to horseback once he reached Nanjing.

After resting for a short while, the fatigue from his earlier ride melted away. Outside, aside from the steady rhythm of water against the hull, all was quiet.

Zhu Ping’an lit the oil lamp in the cabin, its flame flickering gently. From his luggage, he took out his brush, ink, paper, and inkstone.

During his ride earlier, he had already reorganized his thoughts regarding the matter of impeaching officials for killing innocents to claim merit. He had mentally reviewed similar historical cases and records he remembered from his past life, extracting key points and insights.

Now, under the soft glow of the lamp, he began to write—carefully transcribing and refining those conclusions onto the paper.

“Young man, are you heading to Yingtian Prefecture to take the academy examination?”

The old man in the cabin watched Zhu Ping’an writing intently by lamplight and asked in a confident tone.

“I…” Zhu Ping’an paused, considering how to respond.

“I have a nephew just like you,” the old man continued before Zhu Ping’an could answer. “He’s also heading to Yingtian Prefecture for the academy examination—though he set out a few days earlier.”

With that, he had already categorized Zhu Ping’an as another examination candidate.

“Where are you from, young man?” the old man asked again.

“Anqing Prefecture,” Zhu Ping’an replied.

“Ah, Anqing is a fine place! You’ve heard, haven’t you? Someone from your region took first place in the imperial examinations!” The old man nodded repeatedly, clearly impressed.

“…Mm.” Zhu Ping’an could only nod in response.

“What attempt is this for you? Your first, I suppose? You’ve set out a bit late—but for a first try, gaining experience is what matters. My nephew, this is his third attempt. I even helped him prepare his supplies. Let me tell you—when you take the exam, you must bring a hollowed inkstone and proper brushes…”

The old man was talkative, launching into an enthusiastic stream of advice, even sharing practical tips for the examination.

Zhu Ping’an could only listen patiently, occasionally responding with a quiet “mm.”

The old man spoke with growing energy, his voice carrying through the quiet cabin, until the night deepened and the moon rose high overhead. At last, unable to keep going due to his age, he drifted off to sleep mid-conversation.

Only then did Zhu Ping’an resume writing.

Brush strokes flowed steadily across the paper as he continued organizing his notes. It was not until well past midnight that he finally extinguished the lamp and lay down to rest.

—

The next morning, around dawn—perhaps five or six o’clock—the ship had already reached Dangtu County of Taiping Prefecture, just an hour or two away from Nanjing.

After washing up, Zhu Ping’an fed his horse water and fodder, then returned to the cabin to pack his belongings, preparing to disembark once they reached Yingtian Prefecture.

He had just finished when a sudden commotion broke out outside. Before long, the ship slowed and came to a stop along the riverbank.

“Officials are handling a case,” the boat owner went from cabin to cabin, apologizing as he explained. “Please disembark temporarily and wait ashore. Once the matter is concluded, we’ll continue our journey.”

As Zhu Ping’an stepped off the boat, he heard murmurs among the passengers—

It seemed… there had been a murder case.

And the county magistrate himself had arrived with his officers to investigate.