Transmigrated to the Northern Song Dynasty as a County Magistrate (GL) - Chapter 57

57: Yongnian’s Clue Helps Solve the Case

Based on the current evidence and information gathered, Tian Qingyi already had a strong suspicion about the murderer’s identity. However, if she were in the killer’s shoes without irrefutable proof, she too would certainly deny everything—self-preservation being human instinct—let alone confess willingly.

More critically, the existing evidence alone was far from conclusive. The suspect would undoubtedly try to deflect blame, possibly even accusing Tian Qingyi of framing him.

Uncertain how to proceed, Tian Qingyi refrained from hastily conducting the trial. The three suspects had been detained in the county jail since their arrest, forcing the jailers to cut short their New Year holidays and return to duty early. Their resentment showed in frequent verbal abuse toward the prisoners.

Tian Qingyi, equally displeased about her own interrupted holiday, treated this case with exceptional seriousness—it was not only a major criminal investigation but also her first since becoming magistrate. For two days, she sequestered herself in the central hall, meticulously reviewing every detail of the case and evidence.

Yet she still felt the evidence was insufficient. There were no eyewitnesses, and the murder weapon remained missing. She had dispatched the captain to search the suspects’ homes, but none yielded the dagger described by the coroner.

If only Zhang Sancheng were here. Even if he couldn’t solve the case, he might offer useful advice. Unfortunately, Zhang wouldn’t return until after the Lantern Festival. As for Registrar Li and Sheriff Wu—their experience would have been invaluable, but fate had left her to handle this alone.

Facing her first investigative deadlock, Tian Qingyi grew so preoccupied that she barely touched her meals. Yun Jingchu initially dismissed it as case-related stress, but after two days of this, she’d had enough.

On the afternoon of the fourth day, during another distracted dinner, Yun Jingchu slammed her chopsticks down. “Must you waste food like this? Either eat properly or don’t eat at all!”

Startled from her thoughts, Tian Qingyi looked at her plain bowl of rice and smiled sheepishly. “You’re right. I’ll focus on eating now.”

She felt guilty—what should have been a relaxing holiday with Yun Jingchu was now consumed by this case. Determined to make amends, she ate attentively, pushing the investigation from her mind. Satisfied, Yun Jingchu nodded and said nothing more.

After dinner, as they shared oranges, Yun Jingchu finally asked, “You’ve been troubled these past two days. Is it about the case?”

“Yes. I’m about ninety percent certain who the killer is, but without the murder weapon or any witnesses, I can’t deliver a decisive blow. That’s why I haven’t dared convene the trial yet.” Tian Qingyi’s worried expression showed how deeply this dilemma plagued her.

Yun Jingchu, warming her hands on a heating pan, pondered before speaking. “Searching blindly for the weapon is like fishing in the ocean. Solve the case first—finding the weapon will follow. As for witnesses, that’s simpler: substantial rewards will draw them out.”

Tian Qingyi’s eyes lit up. The coroner had only worked so diligently after being promised a reward—she’d given him two strings of cash from public funds afterward. Modern advertisements also offered rewards for eyewitnesses—why not apply that here?

Energized by this breakthrough, Tian Qingyi immediately summoned the clerk and captain to the central hall, briefly explaining to Yun Jingchu before hurrying off.

Watching her leave, Yun Jingchu shook her head fondly. Her partner was brilliant yet sometimes surprisingly naive—but always decisive.

En route, Tian Qingyi recalled Zhou Ba’s earlier findings. After consulting the clerk and captain, she dispatched the captain back to Qinglong Town with two objectives: bring back witnesses with crucial information, and apprehend whoever had taught Yang Dalang how to kill.

On the afternoon of the sixth day, Tian Qingyi convened the trial. Yun Jingchu observed from the rear, attended by Yuanqi and others, while a crowd of spectators packed the hall—locals drawn by rumors that the fire had been arson covering up eight murders. With farming suspended for winter and the New Year festivities ongoing, turnout was exceptionally high, including Qinglong Town’s chief and clerk.

The first suspect brought forward was Zhou Liulang. As the court guards shouted for order, the wooden gavel’s crack made him shrink nervously.

Tian Qingyi: “State your name and relation to Zhou Silang.”

Zhou Liulang: “Your Honor, this humble one is Zhou Liulang, cousin to Zhou Silang. We grew up together—why would I harm him? I beg Your Honor’s discernment!” His voice cracked with genuine anguish, eyes reddening as if grievously wronged.

Tian Qingyi: “This court serves justice—no innocent shall suffer, no guilty escape. You claim no motive, yet why do your footprints match those at the scene?”

The guards presented footprint comparisons. Zhou Liulang examined them desperately before crying, “Your Honor, these aren’t mine! I never climbed their walls! And with only a few shoemakers in Qinglong, many share my size. What if the killer wore identical shoes? I swear I’m innocent!”

Murmurs spread through the crowd—some agreed mere footprints weren’t conclusive.

Tian Qingyi acknowledged this with her gavel before summoning witness Zhang Wulang, a notorious local thief. Though an unreliable character, she had no alternatives.

Zhang Wulang: “Your Honor.” He bowed unsteadily.

Tian Qingyi: “Where were you at maoshi on New Year’s Day?”

Zhang Wulang: “Near the Zhou residence, heading to town. I saw someone scale the wall with a ladder. Thinking he was stealing, I waited to loot afterward. But when he left, the house was burning—the flames showed me his face.”

Tian Qingyi: “Look carefully—is this the man?” She indicated Zhou Liulang.

Zhang Wulang: “No, Your Honor. Definitely not Zhou Liulang.”

With insufficient evidence and an exonerating witness, Tian Qingyi released Zhou Liulang. The village chief exhaled in relief—having a clansman implicated would have been disastrous.

Next was suspect Song Laocai, whose exceptionally long ladder matched wall marks. But Song insisted it was for roof repairs, used for years. A veteran carpenter confirmed the ladder’s age and prior repairs.

The village chief testified Song’s house required such a ladder, and he’d had no prior disputes with Zhou Silang. Zhang Wulang also denied Song’s involvement. Lacking evidence, Tian Qingyi released him.

Finally, Yang Dalang—the prime suspect—was brought in. Tian Qingyi skipped preliminaries, calling directly for the man who’d taught him killing methods.

The witness recounted Yang’s inquiries about efficient murder, adding tearfully, “Had I known his intent, I’d have refused!”

Yang Dalang’s eyes flashed with suppressed rage at his betrayer but remained still under the guards’ watch. “Lies! He slanders me!”

Unfazed, Tian Qingyi presented the footprint matches and ladder. The carpenter verified the ladder was newly made, matching the scene perfectly.

Yang Dalang: “The ladder was for my roof! Hundreds in Huating share my foot size! I’m an honest man—why would I kill?”

From her seat, Yun Jingchu rolled her eyes. Just as Tian Qingyi predicted—without irrefutable proof, denial was inevitable.

Tian Qingyi: “You claim the ladder was for your three-meter roof, yet it exceeds that length. Explain.”

Caught off guard, Yang stammered, “I… made it for someone else! They’ll collect it after the Lantern Festival!”

Tian Qingyi: “Who? Name? Residence? Since when do you take carpentry commissions? Any witnesses?”

Yang Dalang: “I—I don’t know his name! No witnesses!”

Tian Qingyi: “No witnesses means you could say anything! First it was for you, now for some mystery buyer? Should I believe this? Should the people?”

“NO!” the crowd roared, now convinced of Yang’s guilt.

The released Zhou Liulang and Song Laocai shouted loudest, glaring at Yang—their ruined New Year was his fault.

Cornered by Tian Qingyi’s logic and the crowd’s hostility, Yang slumped in defeat. His limited education had trapped him—he’d even needed guidance on killing. Now, fear of authority unraveled him completely.

With Yang crumbling, Tian Qingyi delivered the final blow—recalling Zhang Wulang.

Zhang Wulang: “Your Honor! It’s him! He’s the one who scaled the wall!”

Yang Dalang’s face was drained of color. The man he’d most despised—a petty thief—had destroyed him. The irony was unbearable.