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墨書 Inktalez
The interior of Wen Xin Zhai was meticulously arranged. Against the wall stood a row of rosewood bookshelves, filled with ancient texts and rare editions. In the center was a large writing desk, equipped with all the necessary writing tools: ink, brushes, paper, and an inkstone. Several landscape paintings with profound artistic depth hung on the walls, while a corner display case showcased an array of exquisite antiques. However, all this elegance was overshadowed by the lifeless figure slumped in the grand armchair beside the desk.
Wen Boyuan lay there, his head drooping to one side, eyes wide open with dilated pupils, and his face displaying an unnatural bluish-purple hue. A faint trace of ink lingered at the corner of his mouth. He wore his usual silk robe, impeccably dressed, with no signs of struggle or conflict around him.
Shen Mo approached for a closer look while quickly scanning the entire room. The study's door was securely bolted from the inside, and the windows were also fastened from within, with no signs of forced entry or damage. This was undoubtedly a perfect sealed room.
"When was he discovered? Who found him first?" Shen Mo's voice shattered the silence within the room.
"Sir, it was discovered this morning at dawn," Zhong Shu replied, his voice trembling. "The master is accustomed to rising at the end of the hour of the hare to practice calligraphy or read here in Wen Xin Zhai. But this morning, after dawn had passed and he still hadn’t come out or summoned anyone, I felt something was amiss and came to check. I knocked on the door but received no response; it was locked from the inside. Anxious, I had no choice but to have a few servants break down the door. And then… then I saw him… he was already like this…" Zhong Shu's voice choked as he struggled to continue.
Captain Zhang took over: "The coroner has conducted a preliminary examination. No external injuries were found on Master Wen; it is initially suspected that he died from poisoning. However, we have no clues yet as to what poison it was or how it entered his body. What is most perplexing is how the murderer could have poisoned him and then left through these tightly locked doors and windows."
Shen Mo's gaze finally settled on the large writing desk. There lay a sheet of pristine rice paper, upon which bold characters were written in thick ink that seemed to seep through the paper. The vigorous strokes were undoubtedly from Wen Boyuan's hand. Yet, the content of these words left everyone who saw them deeply puzzled—
"Mo Long Teng Yue, Xin Lian Qi Lu, Lonely Shadow Hard to Retain, only hate… loyalty…"
The final character for "loyalty" appeared particularly distorted, with ink splattered chaotically around it, as if the writer had been enduring immense pain while inscribing it or was engaged in a final struggle against some force before collapsing in exhaustion.
"This… resembles Master’s Jue Bi?" Shen Mo turned to Zhong Shu with a grave expression.
"Looking at this handwriting, it is indeed Master’s own," Zhong Shu said, tears streaming down his face as his voice grew more mournful. "‘Mo Long Teng Yue’ is the name of an ancient ink from a previous dynasty that Master cherished dearly and had only recently acquired. But this ‘Xin Lian Qi Lu’… could it possibly refer to… Lady Lian?"
"Lady Lian?" Shen Mo caught onto that title.
"Yes… she is Master’s second wife, her maiden name is Liu Xinlian." Zhong Shu’s voice unconsciously dropped as he spoke, carrying an undertone of complex emotions. "Master is nearing sixty years old, while Lady Lian is still in her youth at twenty-five. She was married just three years ago."
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