Chapter 210: Chapter 96 Brushing Past_1
Fan Zhenglian hanged himself in the prison cell just as it started to rain.
Widow Sun went to the tailor shop across the street to buy some fabric and was stopped by a sudden downpour, so she simply sat down under the porch awning and waited for the rain to stop as she cracked sunflower seeds and gossiped with the others from West Street about the news she had just heard.
Last night the "Fan Qingtian" from the Trial Court killed himself.
Perhaps he, pampered for so long, couldn’t endure the torture in prison, or maybe he knew he was deeply responsible for his actions and couldn’t escape an inevitable death. This esteemed gentleman, once so esteemed, had hanged himself with his own belt from the prison beams at night. When the prison guard came to check in the morning, he saw a long shadow swaying in the dark. Upon closer inspection, he discovered it was a dead man.
Widow Sun talked vividly, as if she had seen everything herself, "His tongue was sticking out long, scared you to death. They say at the time of his death, his eyes were almost popping out of their sockets, like he’d seen the ghost that claims lives. Such a pity—"
Fan Zhenglian acted the "clean" official all his life, solving countless unresolved cases, yet he never thought he’d end up a prisoner in jail, taking his own life out of fear of his crimes. The shift from judge to the judged happened overnight and indeed caused a stir of emotions.
Sister Song spat out and cursed, "He had it coming."
"Who asked him to pretend to be so decent, while behind the scenes he colluded with those people? We poor folk are already having a hard time, and there they are, trying to control even the examination hall; how can people survive? Good riddance, it was too good a death for him!"
Sister Song also had a son who looked forward to prestigious pursuits in a few years. Hearing about the shady dealings at the Tribute Court, she naturally was furious.
With that, the initial sympathy among the crowd soon dissipated, and they all started nodding and agreeing, "That’s right, deserved it!"
Someone said, "That Scholar Wu from the fish shop, even after dying he came back to life in the hall of Yama because his family had accumulated enough good karma through acts of charity. I wonder how they’ll judge Mr. Fan in the underworld. Hopefully, they won’t look at his former merits and let him come back too?"
"The Most High!" Blind Man He squeezed through the crowd at some point, with his eyes closed, he pretended to calculate by counting on his fingers, "Impossible! I’ve figured that Fan Zhenglian carried a body full of karmic injustice, bearing the sins of untimely death of men, women, old and young. Once he enters Hell, I fear Yama will immediately cast him into eternal damnation without a chance of reprieve."
Upon hearing this, the crowd suddenly took interest, circling around Blind Man He, and slowly the conversation shifted from Fan Zhenglian to the techniques of choosing a good grave site after death.
Lu Tong looked at the bustling group of people across from the tailor shop, took an umbrella from the wall beside the door, and was about to leave.
Du Changqing stopped her, "It’s raining, where are you going?"
Lu Tong, "Going to buy some hawthorns."
Yin Zheng explained with a smile, "Since the Cold Dew season has passed, the young lady wants to make some hawthorn pills to sell. Sister Song mentioned that the fruit shop on Que’er Street sells big, red hawthorns. I am going to check them out with the young lady."
Since it was about making medicine, Du Changqing didn’t object and just reminded them, "Somebody died on Mount Wangchun, and the murderer hasn’t been found yet. Don’t go wandering around."
Lu Tong agreed and went out with Yin Zheng under the umbrella.
Outside it was raining, a white blur. Once September arrived, the air had cooled down completely and winter’s shadow lingered faintly. The bluestone pavement, washed by the fine rain, emitted a wet, cold sheen.
Perhaps due to the rain, Que’er Street wasn’t as bustling as usual. At the corner, a shop’s door was half dismantled, and several strong men were busily moving things in and out.
Lu Tong stopped in front of "Liu’s Noodle Shop."
The fine rain was like threads, making the "Liu’s Noodle Shop" signboard slightly moist, as if freshly painted, the red as bright as blood, giving the deserted shop a strange, ghastly air.
The keeper’s wife from the cake shop next door sat at the doorstep peeling walnuts. She glanced at Lu Tong and Yin Zheng and asked, "Are you looking for someone?"
Yin Zheng pointed to the emptied shop and said, "Wasn’t this place a noodle shop before? Their eel noodles were so delicious, why is no one here?"
"The Liu Family?" The keeper’s wife pursed her lips, "They’ve closed up."
Yin Zheng asked, "When will they be back?"
"They won’t be back," the keeper’s wife slapped the walnut skins off her hands, "Something happened to them, why would they come back?"
Lu Tong didn’t say anything and entered the cake shop, picking out a few pieces of jujube cake from the wooden racks. Seeing this, the keeper’s wife got up to get the scale. Yin Zheng took the chance to ask with a smile, "What happened to the Liu family? Our young lady really liked their eel noodles."
The keeper’s wife weighed the jujube cakes and stood at the counter wrapping them in oil paper, replying, "Liu Kun’s man died on the mountain last month, and they still haven’t found the killer. His two sons have also been thrown into jail."