Chapter 2: Half a Copper Boat

When the bell rang over the river for the third time, the red glow had already slipped beneath the rain. Jiang Wanzhou clutched the Bronze Boat Seal to his chest and signaled Nie Yunzhou to leave the banks. The seal was barely half a finger long; its hull was hollow, yet a strand of dark red thread was embedded in the rim, looking like a bloodstain torn from someone’s robes.

Nie Yunzhou stopped abruptly and murmured, “Don’t stuff it into your pocket. If that thing has been on a corpse, we need to wash it in lime water at the office first, then inspect the bronze color and the fiber composition.”

Jiang Wanzhou obliged, cradling the seal in his palm. Half of a seal-script pattern surfaced on the back—precisely the waterway mark of the Lu Clan Old Escort Agency.

The rain in the south of Chengdu fell on the blue stone paths like a swarm of needles. The corner gate of the yamen stood half-open, the lantern flickering in the wind. Shen Yan stood under the eaves holding an oil-paper umbrella. Seeing Jiang Wanzhou return, he checked the man’s cuffs first, then his gaze dropped to the Bronze Boat Seal.

“You brought back the thing from the middle of the river?” Shen Yan asked. “If it’s tied to the Lu Clan’s old debts, we shouldn’t unpack it in front of everyone. There are still a few unsullied escort logs in the ledger room. Seal this thing first so no one can use the yamen’s hand to spook the old guard.”

Jiang Wanzhou did not hand over the seal. Instead, he said, “If the old guard is still out there, spooking them just forces them to show their faces.”

Nie Yunzhou shut every window and door in the autopsy room. The body had already been dragged back from the river. The victim was soaked through, face gray and pallid, with black mud caked under the fingernails. Nie Yunzhou pulled out a fine bamboo sliver, placed the Bronze Boat Seal on a white porcelain dish, rinsed it in warm water to wash off the silt, and brushed the bottom with a small implement.

A few reddish-brown threads floated to the surface, sticking to the rim of the dish. They were fine as old silkworm cocoons.

“Not blood, not hemp from boat cables,” he said after a long, close look. “The warp and weft are interlaced, the dye is uneven, and the weave is tight. It looks like fiber pulled from Shu Brocade.”

Jiang Wanzhou frowned. “The body was dragged across the boat deck at the bottom of the river. It’s not odd that it picked up Brocade Thread. How can you be certain it came from clothing and not a cargo bundle?”

Nie Yunzhou held a single fiber up to the lamp. “Cargo bundles frizz up after soaking in water, and the dye bleeds along the breaks. These cuts are clean, and the edges still have gold powder on them. It was sliced with a blade. The gold dust came from the hidden patterns on the brocade, not from rough cargo cloth.”

He pointed to the edge of the seal. “There is wax residue at the base. The wax is mixed with pine soot. Someone pressed the seal into the clay, then hid it inside the body. The corpse was just the final box.”

Jiang Wanzhou took the test paper and asked, “Any similar traces on the victim?” Nie Yunzhou peeled back the shroud, revealing a purple bruise on the left ribs.

“Blunt force on the left ribs. No internal damage, but enough to wipe out someone’s strength in the water. There’s a callus on the tiger’s mouth of the right hand, and ink stains on the base of the index finger—this man handled pens or ledger pages for a living. The most important part is under the tongue.”

Nie Yunzhou used a silver spoon to nudge out a small, damp piece of paper. “There is cinnabar ink on it. The writing has washed away, leaving only half of the character ‘Lu’.”

Footsteps hurried outside. Chu Hanyi pushed open the door, water dripping from the brim of her bamboo hat, an old leather box slung over her shoulder. She did not bow to Shen Yan. She walked straight to the white porcelain dish, her eyes locking onto the Bronze Boat Seal.

“The corpse wasn’t delivering a message,” she said. “He was looking for someone. Three days ago, I found this letter in an old drawer at the agency. It says someone is following the old Jinjiang route to ask about the missing escorts. If there’s still no reply, they’ll hand a half Bronze Boat Seal to the Chengdu constable.”

Jiang Wanzhou looked at her. “Why are you only now? If you had the letter, the victim might still be alive.”

Chu Hanyi set the old letter on the desk. The corners had been scorched by fire, but the ink was remarkably preserved.

“I checked the secret mark on the letter first. It wasn’t the agency’s standard safety code; it was a reply from a missing relative.” She opened the leather box and took out a blood-stained strip of cloth. “I’ve been tracking this for years. The one missing is my brother. His last escort was handled by the Lu Clan. The cargo was Shu Brocade, the route from Chengdu to Jiazhou, then up the waterways into the river.

The escort squad never reached Jiazhou. The few who made it back alive only said they were attacked by bandits, but no one said where the raiders came from.”

Jiang Wanzhou pushed the Bronze Boat Seal toward her. “What was your brother’s name?” Chu Hanyi’s fingers pressed the cloth strip until her knuckles turned white.

“No need to ask for a name. Your ledgers just recorded him as Yan Qi.” She looked up, her gaze sharp and direct. “I’m not looking for a name. I’m looking for why that escort was erased. The fact that the victim was digging into it means the old ledger has been opened again. If you seal the Bronze Boat Seal away, I’ll dive to the riverbed and take it out myself.”

Jiang Wanzhou replied, “You can check the ledgers, but you can’t touch the corpse as evidence. If your brother truly vanished on that old mission, let the victim speak the first line for you.”

Shen Yan brought over a cup of hot tea, his tone still gentle. “The Shu Brocade fiber on the Bronze Boat Seal only proves it touched the material. It doesn’t point to the old escort ledger. The Lu Clan’s old vault burned three years ago; the records are riddled with gaps. Digging up the past will just make the living suspect each other.”

Su Jingxing entered shortly after, clutching an oilcloth-wrapped bundle of old ledgers in his arms. Hearing this, he said, “Gaps don’t mean no evidence. Someone re-engraved the burned pages as movable type and hid them in the academy’s abandoned plates. I already collated two pages last night.”

The smile faded from Shen Yan’s face. “Mr. Su, if there’s no conclusion to the old affair, stirring up the whole city over two fragments is too hasty.”

Su Jingxing–Liu set the old ledger aside and peeled back the cover. “What I’m showing you isn’t rumor. It’s the master draft of the Lu Clan escort accounts. Page one covers the handover in Jiazhou. Page two logs an empty boat heading back to Chengdu. There’s a seven-day gap between those pages—right where the half of the Bronze Boat Seal’s seal script pattern would fit.”

Jiang Wanzhou asked, “What was missing from the empty boat?” Su Jingxing–Liu answered, “The ledger lists thirty bolts of Shu Brocade, but only twenty-nine were received. There’s another line smudged out with cinnabar. On the back of the paper, half the character for ‘boat’ remains. The paper scraps found under the dead man’s tongue are made of the exact same material.”

Nie Yunzhou–Ye nodded. “Fibers, paper scraps, old accounts. Three points of cross-verification. This isn’t a coincidence anymore.”

Chu Hanyi–Yan opened the old letter and pointed to a line. “It says: the auditor must not question the escort captain first. First, question the recipient’s seal. The Bronze Boat Seal was originally in two halves—one stayed with the ledger, one stayed with the person. Now that the victim swallowed paper scraps and a seal is hidden in his corpse, it proves he found one half, but couldn’t find the one holding the ledger.”

Jiang Wanzhou asked, “Who wrote this letter to you?” Chu Hanyi–Yan was silent for a moment. “The old strongbox at the escort agency has no record of it. I only know it came from the Chengdu relay station, sealed with the Lu Clan’s family seal. The courier refused to leave his name.”

Shen Yan–Lu stood in the shadows. “The Lu Clan’s family seal was stolen long ago. A seal of mud on a letter proves nothing.”

Nie Yunzhou–Ye suddenly picked up the Bronze Boat Seal and wiped a water stain from the edge. “No. The victim didn’t swallow the seal. Someone sewed it into the inside of his collar. The stitches only pierced the fabric, not the skin. Later, the water soaked the clothes loose, and the seal slid down into his abdomen. But the paper scraps stayed under his tongue. That means he was biting down on a page from the ledger just before he died, trying to protect a section of text.”

Jiang Wanzhou leaned over to inspect the corpse’s clothes. Sure enough, he found three tiny pinholes at the collar.

“The killer wasn’t in a rush to hide the seal,” he said. “He wanted the coroner to find the seal, but not immediately notice the paper. Someone calculated that we would first chase the lead about the river depths, and then investigate the Bronze Boat.”

“They didn’t calculate for us. They calculated for you.” Shen Yan–Lu put down his teacup, and for the first time, his voice dropped low and heavy. “Captain Jiang, when you handled the Lu Clan escort case back then, you testified that the last batch of goods was destroyed by fire and water in Jiazhou. If the old ledger surfaces now, you’re the first one who gets grilled. Bringing the Bronze Boat Seal back to the yamen is like handing the hilt of a knife to someone else.”

Jiang Wanzhou looked at him. “That was my testimony. And three people died because of it. If you truly want to protect me, tell me why the Lu Clan Accounting Office still has those escort logs that weren’t written off.”

Shen Yan–Lu didn’t answer. He only said, “Some ledgers aren’t meant to be looked at by the living.”

Chu Hanyi–Yan drew her blade half an inch, the light reflecting off the old letter. “The Lu Clan owes me a debt. They owe my brother his life. If anyone tries to bury that ledger again, I’ll start by checking whose hands are stained with escort flags.”

Jiang Wanzhou pressed his hand on the back of her blade. “This is a government building, not a duel ground. If you hack someone, that old ledger will just have one more fresh corpse attached to it.” Chu Hanyi–Yan slowly sheathed her sword. “I’ve kept escort for ten years. I know what to cut and what to wait for. But I don’t trust those who only know how to say ‘person not found.’”

Jiang Wanzhou looked at her. “Then we look at the physical evidence. Ink on the victim’s hands, needles at the collar, paper under the tongue. The evidence won’t change its story like a living witness will.”

Su Jingxing–Liu flipped to the last page of the old ledger. He found a line of small, inverted writing on the back of the paper and held it over charcoal fire. The heat revealed the ink: three relay station names—Chengdu, Meizhou, Jiazhou. Each was followed by a red dot, except for Chengdu, which had a half-drawn Bronze Boat.

“These are markers for station-by-station repayment,” Su Jingxing–Liu said. “Someone is tracking down old debts along the old route. The victim has already passed Meizhou. He was just short on the last leg to Chengdu.”

Jiang Wanzhou stared at the half-boat, his voice rough. “It’s not him chasing the debt. Someone is forcing me back onto that old path. Every station is a reminder that that lie hasn’t been paid off yet.”

Shen Yan–Lu finally took an old key out of his sleeve. “There’s an iron cabinet in the cellar of the Accounting Office. Only two keys exist. One is with me. The other disappeared with the old accountant. If you want to see it, go tonight. But once that cabinet is opened, there’s no turning back on the old Lu Clan case.”

Jiang Wanzhou took the key. “I have no intention of turning back.” Shen Yan–Lu looked at him, his gaze warm, almost pitying. “You think the truth settles a debt? The testimony you submitted back then hurt more than just the Lu Clan. It hurt the people who stood as guarantors for you. If someone is making you repay station by station, the final payment might not be silver.”

Outside the coroner’s room, the rain suddenly stopped. In the distance, from the ruins of South Zen Temple, a single bell toll rang out, sinking into the damp, cold night of Chengdu. Nie Yunzhou–Ye put away his examination papers. “The victim died of drowning, but the blunt trauma on his ribs preceded the submersion. The Bronze Boat Seal was hidden in the collar. The paper scraps came from the old ledger. The killer knows both coroner protocols and escort agency rules. This case cannot be closed as a simple floating body.”

Jiang Wanzhou said, “List three things: what the corpse shows, what the fibers prove, and where the paper points. No written statements go into the case file for now.” Nie Yunzhou–Ye looked up. “You trust the corpse more than living people?”

Jiang Wanzhou replied, “Living people can flip their story. A corpse can’t shelter anyone from the rain.”

Chu Hanyi–Yan suddenly turned the old letter to the end. The scorched corner of the paper revealed a line of very fine characters. She saw the signature first, and her face changed instantly. She handed the letter to Jiang Wanzhou. As he took it, his fingers paused on the paper for a moment. The calligraphy was sharp, with strokes ending in a slight upward flick—the writing style he had mastered twenty years ago.

No guild seal, no signature—just that one line of his writing that had never changed: Jiang Wanzhou · to my lord.