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墨書 Inktalez
Shen Mo instructed Captain Zhang and the constables to wait outside, while he slowly paced within the study.
How was the secret chamber formed? The doors and windows were locked from the inside, leaving no room for doubt. How did the poison enter the deceased's body? There were no visible wounds on the corpse. What was the true meaning of Jue Bi? "Ink Dragon," "Xin Lian," "Loyalty"—who did they refer to?
His gaze swept over every corner of the room repeatedly. The books on the shelves, the antiques in the display case, the calligraphy and paintings on the walls, the carpet on the floor... Finally, his eyes focused once more on the zitan wood writing desk.
On the desk, besides the striking "Ink Dragon Soaring" ancient ink block, there were also prepared ink, an inkstone, a brush, a brush washer, and a piece of rice paper inscribed with Jue Bi. Everything seemed reasonable and fitting for a scholar writing late into the night.
He picked up the "Ink Dragon Soaring" ink block again. It was rectangular, entirely black, carved with a vividly depicted Ink Dragon, its scales and claws dancing with an extraordinary presence. He brought it close to his nose and sniffed carefully. Besides the rich and pure Mo Xiang, there was still that faint, lingering Sweet Fragrance.
Where did this Sweet Fragrance come from? Shen Mo furrowed his brow, trying to recall a similar scent from memory. It felt somewhat familiar but eluded him at that moment.
His gaze drifted over to the inkstone. The ink inside was rich in color and of moderate consistency. Next to it lay a celadon brush washer filled with murky water used for cleaning brushes. Everything appeared so normal, so logical.
However, just as he was about to give up, thinking he might have overlooked something, an extremely minor detail suddenly caught his attention like a spark in the darkness.
On the side near the window, there was a small, inconspicuous puddle of water on the floor beneath the desk. If not for Shen Mo's meticulous observation, it would have been easily overlooked or mistaken for rainwater blown in by the wind. But with all doors and windows tightly shut, the location of this puddle seemed somewhat deliberate.
More importantly, beside that puddle appeared to be scattered tiny specks of dark powdery substance.
Shen Mo immediately crouched down and carefully extended his finger to pick up a bit of that black powder. He brought it to his nose and sniffed closely.
It was ink powder! Moreover, this ink powder carried the same faint Sweet Fragrance as that ancient ink block and the air around him!
Why was there ink powder scattered on the ground? And why specifically in this location near the window? This was certainly unusual!
His heart raced slightly faster. He stood up and quickly walked over to the tightly shut window to conduct a more detailed inspection. The window was indeed locked from inside with a brass bolt; it was secure with no signs of external force having disturbed or moved it. The wooden frame was solid with no visible gaps.
Could he have been overthinking it?
Just as he was about to dismiss his suspicions, his fingertip accidentally brushed against a small piece of wood below the window frame near where it met the sill. There, he felt an extremely tiny and nearly imperceptible... indentation?
He leaned in closer under candlelight for a careful examination. Indeed! On that piece of darker wood existed a minute hole no larger than a needle’s tip! This hole was very discreet; its color closely matched that of the surrounding wood grain—if not for touching it and searching deliberately, one would never have discovered it!
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