13. The Man-Eating House (9)

“It was an act,” Liang Ye said.

Haichao, still fuming, was caught off guard by the sudden remark, as if she’d been swept off a wave, and blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

“The way I acted just now—that was a performance,” Liang Ye explained. “That couple is rather strange. I put on that act to make them underestimate me, to lower their guard so I could strike precisely at the crucial moment and see their true reactions.”

Haichao kicked a small stone by the roadside with her toe, muttering, “Why are you telling me all this? It’s so inexplicable.”

“Afraid you’d misunderstand.”

“What’s there to misunderstand?” Haichao looked up at the moon and flicked the pebble into the air. “Your business has nothing to do with me.”

“Hmm,” Liang Ye’s voice was soft and low, almost like he was speaking to himself. “Still, I worry you might misunderstand.”

A complex feeling rose inside Haichao, difficult to name, ultimately turning bitter. Three years ago, Liang Ye wouldn’t have said such things. Three years later… there were mountains and seas between them, and a prime minister’s daughter in between as well.

The night breeze brushed her cheek, chilling something deep within.

“You said that couple was strange. What’s strange about them?” Haichao asked. “They’re a handsome pair and seem affectionate. Only the wife seems a bit stubborn.”

Among the Tanka people, daughters and men alike go out fishing or diving for pearls; they don’t emphasize male dominance. In their family, the mother often had the final say.

“Luckily, Su Tingyuan is devoted to her. It’s another matter if she met someone fickle…” She glanced meaningfully at Liang Ye. “But sometimes, she cries.”

“Not necessarily,” Liang Ye said.

“Huh?”

“Su Tingyuan might not be as reliable as he seems.”

Haichao raised her eyebrows. “I think he’s quite attentive to his wife—thoughtful and patient.”

Perhaps because of her father, Haichao naturally held a soft spot for men who cherished their wives.

She glanced at Liang Ye. “Not all handsome men are unfaithful. He doesn’t seem like a bad person.”

Actually, Haichao didn’t think Su Tingyuan was especially handsome. Among ordinary men, he was above average, but having watched Liang Ye grow up, compared to the young man who looked like the moon tonight, any common handsome lad paled in comparison.

Liang Ye lowered his eyelids, showing no anger, but his figure seemed inexplicably lonely, as if tonight’s cold moon had soaked through him.

“I can’t say if he’s good or bad, but he lied.”

“When did he lie? How do you know?”

“Because his words and actions don’t match; there are many inconsistencies.”

Haichao thought for a moment but couldn’t find any flaws in Su Tingyuan’s words.

“I didn’t notice anything,” she said.

“Why do you think Su Tingyuan treats his wife well?” Liang Ye countered.

Haichao recalled and said, “Isn’t it obvious? When we met him in the courtyard, he was so anxious. When we went to ask his wife questions, he helped her with her clothes and supported her. That’s clearly a habit, showing he usually takes care of her.”

Liang Ye asked, “Then why was he in the study in the front courtyard, working on accounts?”

“Maybe because the ledgers were too many and heavy?”

Haichao immediately shook her head, realizing that excuse didn’t hold. Su Tingyuan wasn’t her; no matter how many ledgers, there would be many servants to carry them.

“Or maybe he worried about disturbing his wife? But no matter how careful, there would be some noise…” That also made no sense. The main hall of the Su family wasn’t a tiny hut like hers. If he feared waking his wife, he could have gone to a side room.

Both side rooms were spacious and even had curtains dividing off studies; there was no need to go to the study specifically.

Haichao felt discouraged and muttered, “In the end, he didn’t know his wife would have trouble tonight.”

Liang Ye shook his head. “Do you remember what the maid said? His wife has often woken up from nightmares in the past few months. If it were you, could you calmly stay up all night in the front courtyard working on accounts?”

Haichao already agreed with Liang Ye’s reasoning in her heart but was reluctant to admit it aloud. “That’s all just your guess.”

Unexpectedly, Liang Ye nodded. “Indeed, it’s all speculation. So until just now, I couldn’t be sure he was lying.”

“What happened just now?”

They hadn’t really done anything, only walked around the Su residence.

“Time,” Liang Ye said.

“Time?”

“Just now, we took about fifteen minutes to walk from the backyard to Su Tingyuan’s study. We arrived just as Su Tingyuan was hurrying over. After hearing the screams, we dressed and got up, discussed in the courtyard, knocked on the west wing door, were delayed briefly by the young servant Li Ji on the bamboo path, and reached the main hall about seven or eight minutes later. After talking with steward Li for a moment, we met Su Tingyuan arriving.”

Haichao thought it over. “What’s wrong with that? We walked slowly to the study just now. Su Tingyuan knew his wife was in trouble, so of course he hurried.”

“Right. Given Su Tingyuan’s age and build, a brisk run would take just over seven or eight minutes.”

“Isn’t that just right then?”

“But Su Tingyuan was in the study. He couldn’t have heard his wife’s screams. So how did he know she was in trouble?”

“I remember steward Li said that when he found out, he immediately sent someone to the front hall to fetch the master… Wait, that can’t be right,” Haichao realized. “Even if that servant ran like his life depended on it, and Su Tingyuan ran full speed after hearing the news, the round trip would still take about fifteen minutes.”

The facts didn’t align with Su Tingyuan’s story. The only explanation was that Su Tingyuan was lying.

But the truth remained a mystery.

Haichao pursed her lips and muttered, “Fine, you’re right.”

A smile flickered in Liang Ye’s eyes, like a sliver of moonlight breaking through layered clouds.

Haichao steadied herself, trying not to think about irrelevant things. “Since Su Tingyuan couldn’t hear the screams in the study, how did he get there in fifteen minutes?”

“Because he wasn’t in the study at the time.”

“If he wasn’t, why lie?” Haichao was puzzled.

“There must be something he doesn’t want to reveal.”

“Then where could he have been?”

“A place where he could hear his wife’s screams, reach the main hall within fifteen minutes, and remain secluded without passersby. Only two places fit: the guest quarters where we stayed and one other.”

He paused. “The stable yard where the groom had his ghost encounter.”

Haichao was startled. “That yard’s been abandoned for a long time, hasn’t it? The weeds are over a foot tall.”

Liang Ye said, “Do you remember the talisman on the gate?”

Haichao nodded. She remembered—a yellow paper with a vermilion charm, looking like bloodstains, eerie to see at night.

“According to steward Li, the groom’s incident happened three months ago. A Taoist was called to perform rites and sealed the door with talismans. Since then, the servants dared not enter, and the yard was deserted.”

“Three months of talismans, even sheltered from wind and rain, would fade and become brittle. But the porch and gate had little dust, and the ground bore messy footprints—someone had been there recently.”

He added, “Also, Su Tingyuan’s robe was damp, but the path from the study to there is all stone or wooden porch—no place for dew to cling.”

Haichao was almost convinced. “Why would he go to a haunted place in the middle of the night, not sleeping?”

“That’s exactly what we need to find out.”

“Maybe he had some urgent matter he didn’t want to tell others? We can’t just say his care for his wife is all fake.”

“There’s a shortcut from that yard to the main hall. If Su Tingyuan heard the commotion and rushed over, he should have arrived before us, even before steward Li,” Liang Ye patiently analyzed. “But he took about twice as long, either strolling or delayed for some reason.”

He paused. “Whatever the case, his feelings for his wife aren’t as devoted as they seem.”

Haichao couldn’t argue. The piercing scream still haunted her. Su Tingyuan, as husband, didn’t know beforehand if his wife was safe, yet didn’t rush over immediately. That was hard to explain.

“One more thing,” Liang Ye continued, “he didn’t even look into the room where the accident happened until we left.”

Haichao realized this only after Liang Ye pointed it out and frowned. “Is it because he was busy taking care of his wife?”

“After his wife took the tranquilizing medicine and fell asleep, he had enough time to check the room between then and when we questioned her in the side room. Why didn’t he go?”

Haichao’s head throbbed. “Why?”

“Maybe he arrived earlier and had already seen it,” Liang Ye said.

Haichao was shocked. “Then why pretend he just got there?”

Liang Ye pondered briefly. “Remember the bloodied ghost face on the wall and the blood characters by the bed?”

Haichao shuddered, unable to forget—likely nightmares awaited.

“What about the face and characters?”

“That ghost left the face and threat, but also messed up the room and covered the blood characters,” Liang Ye said. “That’s excessive.”

“Right!” Haichao suddenly understood. “You mean… the room was disturbed by someone to hide the ghost face and cover the blood characters? Su Tingyuan?”

Liang Ye glanced toward a courtyard glowing with light in the distance. “Not necessarily him, but definitely someone with a guilty conscience.”

As they walked back along the same path, they unconsciously arrived at the bamboo path leading to the guest quarters. Unexpectedly, Liang Ye did not return to their dwelling but took a different fork toward the rear garden.

Having walked so far in the dead of night, even someone as strong as Haichao was tired and sleepy, not to mention Liang Ye, who was limping.

Haichao silently told herself not to meddle, but seeing him hobble along, growing more exhausted, she couldn’t help speaking up. “I’m very tired. I can’t keep going.”

Liang Ye said, “You go back to the guest house first. I still have some matters to attend to.”

“What could be so important at this hour?”

“Hmm.”

Haichao puffed her cheeks. “Forget it.”

“I’m fine alone.”

Haichao raised an eyebrow. “Stop stalling. If you’re going somewhere, go quickly.”

Liang Ye looked at her. His originally dark eyes reflected the lantern light, as if shimmering with inner light.

Haichao muttered, “If you die in the middle of the night, I’ll be in trouble too.”

“Hmm.”

“I wasn’t going to bother with you.”

“Hmm.”

“But we agreed to find a way out together. What can I do?”

“Hmm.”

“I’m not the kind to go back on my word.”

“I know.”

Haichao fell silent. The two of them quietly crossed the rear garden, arriving at the northwest corner.

There was a half-acre lotus pond there. The lotus flowers had long wilted and fallen; only a few withered stalks stood in the moonlit water like a group of lost spirits.

Liang Ye stopped, looked around, then approached a cluster of hibiscus blossoms, extinguishing his lantern.

He gently tugged her sleeve and whispered, “Crouch down.”

Haichao crouched. “What is it?”

“Shh, don’t make a sound,” Liang Ye whispered.

The hibiscus patch was small, so to hide their figures, they had to stay very close. Liang Ye’s breath was almost on her skin.

Haichao felt her throat tighten and involuntarily shifted her legs, causing the leaves to rustle.

“Don’t move,” Liang Ye gently grasped her wrist through her sleeve. “Someone’s coming.”

Haichao quickly withdrew her hand but stayed still, peering through the leaves.

Far away, a single lantern flickered, swaying in the air.

Soon, the light floated to the other side of the pond. It was a man carrying a lantern, walking around the north side toward them.

The man stopped about five steps away. From his slightly stooped back and shiny, plump face, Haichao recognized him—Steward Li.

He held the lantern in his right hand, with a small bundle tucked under his left elbow.

He stood cautiously by the pond, looking around before setting the lantern on the ground and crouching down, fiddling with something.

After a moment, a small flame leapt up. Steward Li began bowing toward the fire.

Haichao realized he was burning paper money.

She heard him chant in a singsong voice: “Little lady, please don’t blame this old servant, I had no choice…”