The interior of Wen Xin Zhai was exquisitely 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, complete with ink, brushes, paper, and inkstones. Several landscape paintings with profound artistic conception hung on the walls, while a corner display case showcased an array of antique treasures. However, all this elegance was overshadowed by the lifeless figure slumped in the grand chair 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 seemed to linger at the corner of his mouth. He wore his usual silk robe, impeccably dressed, and there were no signs of struggle or conflict around him.
Shen Mo approached for a closer look while quickly scanning the entire room. The study door had been securely bolted from the inside, and the windows were also fastened from within, tightly sealed without any signs of tampering or damage. This was undoubtedly a perfect locked room.
"When was he discovered? Who found him first?" Shen Mo's voice shattered the silence in the room.
"Sir, it was this morning during the hour of the Dragon," Uncle Zhong replied, still trembling. "The master usually rises at the end of the Rabbit hour to practice calligraphy or read. But this morning, after the Dragon hour had passed, he still hadn’t come out and hadn’t summoned anyone. I felt something was off and came to check. I knocked on the door but received no response; it was locked from the inside. I grew anxious and had to have a few servants break it down. Then… then we found him… like this…" Uncle Zhong's voice choked off, unable 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 he died from poisoning. However, we have no leads on what poison it was or how it entered his body. What is most perplexing is how the murderer poisoned him and then escaped through these tightly locked doors and windows."
Shen Mo's gaze finally settled on the large writing desk. There lay a sheet of pristine xuan paper, upon which thick ink had been used to write several powerful characters that seemed to penetrate through the paper. The brushwork was vigorous; it was undoubtedly Wen Boyuan’s handwriting. Yet, the content of these words left everyone who saw them deeply puzzled—
"Ink Dragon Soaring, Heart Lotus Weeping Dew, Lonely Shadow Hard to Retain, only hate… loyalty…"
The last character for "loyalty" appeared particularly distorted, with ink splattered chaotically as if the writer had been enduring immense pain while inscribing it or was engaged in a final struggle against some force before ultimately succumbing.
"This… looks like Master’s Jue Bi?" Shen Mo turned to Uncle Zhong with a profound gaze.
"From this handwriting, it is indeed Master’s own," Uncle Zhong said, tears streaming down his face as his voice grew more sorrowful. "'Ink Dragon Soaring' is the name of an ancient ink from a previous dynasty that Master cherished dearly and had only recently acquired. But 'Heart Lotus Weeping Dew'… could it be… could it refer to… Lady Lian?"
"Lady Lian?" Shen Mo caught onto this title.
"Yes… she is Master’s second wife, her given name is Liu Xinlian." Uncle Zhong’s voice unconsciously lowered, carrying a subtle complexity. "Master is nearing sixty years old while Lady Lian is in her prime at just twenty-five. She was married three years ago."
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