Chapter 48: Six Journey Together to the Ma and Zhang Family Courtyard, Half the Diamond Sutra Transcribed on the Desk

The wild geese bring sorrow, heralding the early onset of cold, while the sky teases dawn with its faint shadows.

On the official road east of Changning County, several riders sped by on swift horses. Yet, in a twist both amusing and exasperating, Song Mo, eager to reach the Zhang family estate as soon as possible, found himself trailing behind, while the five Bad Officials ahead deliberately slowed their pace to wait for him.

“It seems I ought to practice riding more when I have leisure,” Song Mo murmured with a lowered head.

After half an hour, Song Mo followed Xia Yu and the others to the grand Zhang family manor, a century-old estate.

From the outside, the manor boasted grey tiles and white walls, a towering gatehouse adorned with intricate carvings on its walls, even more exquisite embellishments on the roof, and several guardian beasts perched atop—clearly the work of a master craftsman.

The main gate stood wide open. Two Bad Officials stepped forward to knock the door ring repeatedly, yet no gatekeeper appeared to inquire.

A vague sense of foreboding crept into Song Mo’s heart. Disregarding etiquette, he lifted his foot, ready to enter.

Xia Yu hurriedly grabbed him, embarrassed, and said, “Young brother, let’s stick to the rules. Unlike you, working in Jian’an Capital, I still have to remain here, don’t I?”

Though broad and stout, Xia Yu was keenly perceptive. He understood that the Zhang family was of longstanding prestige; if they were offended, Song Mo could simply return to Jian’an Capital without consequence, but Xia Yu himself would have to bear the blame.

Xia Yu spoke earnestly, and Song Mo, unable to argue further, simply watched as the two Bad Officials continued knocking.

Half a stick of incense burned away, and still no one appeared from the Zhang house. Xia Yu’s expression grew grim.

Though unwilling to offend the Zhangs, Tang Yi was, after all, a high-ranking officer from the Six Gates of Jian’an—if anything went wrong, Xia Yu would surely be the first scapegoat.

Caught in a dilemma, another half stick of incense passed, and there was still no movement from the Zhang residence.

Xia Yu gritted his teeth. “Let’s go in and take a look.”

Only then did Song Mo follow Xia Yu and the others inside, unable to suppress his admiration for the Zhang family’s grandeur—the estate truly lived up to its reputation.

On either side were covered walkways, with a central hall. A purple sandalwood and marble screen stood on the ground. Beyond the screen lay a modest three-room hall, and behind that, the main house. The front featured five grand rooms with carved beams and painted rafters, flanked by side galleries and guest rooms, with cages of parrots and thrushes hanging everywhere.

Even in broad daylight, the side paths were brilliantly lit, the embers still glowing.

Ahead stood a shadow wall built over water, about ten feet high, topped with glazed tiles, its crest shaped in undulating waves.

Though Changning County was not a water town like those in the south, the Zhang family had clearly spared no expense. The front garden was lush with fine trees, and rare flowers bloomed in breathtaking profusion.

A stream wound through the depths of the foliage, meandering and pausing beneath stone crevices.

On both sides of the garden, stone pavilions rose above the trees, their carved eaves and embroidered railings blending seamlessly with the landscape, concealing the feng shui within the hills and stones. The scenery evoked clear waters cascading like snow and stone steps piercing the clouds, with white stone fences and bridges connecting the paths—a view to envy.

Yet Song Mo had no mind to appreciate the garden’s beauty; his sole concern was to find Tang Yi quickly.

The six of them searched the entire Zhang estate, front and back, but found not a single soul.

Xia Yu’s heart skipped a beat. He said in a low voice, “Such a vast Zhang house, not a single person in sight—something must have happened.”

One of the Bad Officials beside him replied carelessly, “Commander Xia, you worry too much. The Zhangs are wealthy; perhaps they’ve all gone out to enjoy the late autumn.”

“Pig-headed fool! Who takes even the gatekeepers out for an autumn outing?” Xia Yu cursed, visibly frustrated.

“Enough, stop bickering—let’s hurry and find someone,” Song Mo said, frowning at them.

Xia Yu nodded, muttering a curse, “Damn it, search everywhere. I refuse to believe there’s not a single breathing soul in the Zhang house.”

The six scattered to search, and in less than the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn, they regrouped in the front hall.

From the looks on Xia Yu and the others’ faces, Song Mo knew they had found as little as he had.

“How odd, it’s as if the Zhang family vanished into thin air,” muttered one of the Bad Officials.

“What did you say?” Song Mo’s eyes narrowed sharply, as if a thought had struck him.

The Bad Official startled, looking to Xia Yu.

Xia Yu nodded at him, prompting the man to repeat, “How odd, it’s as if the Zhang family really vanished into thin air.”

Song Mo slapped his thigh. “Exactly—vanished into thin air.”

The Bad Officials stared at Song Mo in confusion, while Xia Yu’s face quickly darkened as he whispered, “Are you suggesting…”

Xia Yu glanced warily around, then lowered his voice further, “Supernatural?”

The remaining Bad Officials turned pale at the mention of the supernatural, their backs stiffening with chills.

Song Mo nodded gravely. “You all know about the recent deaths in Changning County—every corpse mysteriously disappeared.”

Xia Yu and the others nodded with grim faces. The corpse of Han Bing had vanished from the county morgue, after all, and the memory was still fresh.

“Do you think the Zhang family vanished just like those corpses?” Song Mo asked in a low voice.

Xia Yu’s face fell, as if mourning. “Are you saying Master Tang is dead?”

The thought that Tang Yi might be dead chilled him—not only would his career be ruined, he might be punished alongside.

Song Mo shook his head. “I know Tang Yi; with his skills, he shouldn’t have fallen prey to a fox spirit without a trace.”

Though he said this, Song Mo himself was uncertain. After all, it was a supernatural entity—could Tang Yi’s prowess really withstand its powers?

Song Mo could only hope Tang Yi was unharmed.

The reason Song Mo spoke to steady Xia Yu and the Bad Officials was twofold: he needed their help to find Tang Yi and the Zhangs, and, truthfully, he was afraid—this was his first time facing the supernatural, and anyone claiming not to be scared would be lying.

“Let’s search inside the house,” Song Mo said. Xia Yu and the others hurried after him, clearly taking his lead.

They approached a side courtyard, its door barred. Song Mo had no choice but to climb through a half-open window.

The others followed, though the three-part window nearly proved too narrow for Xia Yu—his belly was as round as a millstone.

Inside, Song Mo surveyed the room. A huanghuali marble desk stood in the center, covered with books and dozens of precious inkstones, various brush holders overflowing with brushes like a miniature forest. On a sheet of rice paper, weighed down by a jade beast, half a chapter of the Diamond Sutra had been transcribed.

Nearby, a large Ru kiln vase shaped like a crane held a bouquet of crystal-ball white chrysanthemums. The west wall displayed a large painting of “Ladies of the Autumn Palace,” flanked by a couplet: “Leisurely bones amidst mist and clouds, wild life among springs and stones.”

On the desk sat a grand censer. To the left, a purple sandalwood stand held a large Guan kiln plate filled with dozens of delicate yellow Buddha’s hand fruits. On the lacquered rack to the right hung a white jade chime, with a small hammer beside it. To the east stood a couch, with a canopy bed draped in embroidered gauze featuring flowers and insects.

From the lavish decor, Song Mo knew this was the room of Zhang Yuhe, the eldest son.

Don’t ask why.

He’d seen it in the lantern show played by Lu Sheng’s corpse…

Song Mo said nothing, crouching to examine the half-transcribed Diamond Sutra on the desk, then glanced at the door.

“It seems the Zhang family disappeared suddenly, without warning,” Song Mo remarked abruptly.