252: Chapter 252: A Night Investigation of the Li Family 252: Chapter 252: A Night Investigation of the Li Family With doubts lingering in her heart, Wufu would not let them stay overnight.
As night fell, she got ready, put on the fox mask, dressed in black, and slipped out of the inn like a black cat.
Before she left, she didn’t forget to pull up the thin quilt for Liu Jin, who had kicked it off while sleeping on the floor.
Though the heat of late sumr still lingered, the night brought a deeper chill with heavy dew.
Catching a cold would be bad news.
Wufu darted out of the inn nimbly and ran quickly towards West City.
She had already figured out the most convenient route.
Tingting.
The night watchman struck his gong to signal the ti, indicating it was the second watch of the Hai Hour.
Wufu passed like a gust of wind, evading the Yan Guards patrolling the streets.
From a distance, she could still hear their complaints.
It seed that until the Flower-Picking Thief was caught, the Yan Guards would have no peace.
Wufu arrived at the Coffin Guy’s place, deftly flipped over the low wall, and landed silently in the courtyard of the Li Family’s house.
By this ti, the Li Family was long gone, and the surroundings were pitch-black, so quiet it felt like a haunt for ghosts.
Wufu pressed against the wall in the courtyard and listened for a while, making sure there was no one inside.
Then she took out her flint and sneaked over to the main hall’s entrance, where a lock hung.
This couldn’t stump Wufu.
She drew out a hairpin, fiddled with the lock cylinder a few tis, and with a click, the lock opened.
She gently pushed the door open, and a chill breeze wafted out from inside, making Wufu shudder and tighten her clothes around her.
If she hadn’t been indifferent to ghosts and spirits, she might have found the Li Family house to be dreadfully eerie.
The flint lit up, and she looked around.
The main hall was tidy and orderly, with a kang bed in the center.
Wufu guessed that it was probably Old Madam Li’s or Coffin Guy’s room, which she found quite distasteful.
Her gaze swept around the room and then she began to search thoroughly, inside and out, but shortly after, she ca out.
There was nothing in the main hall.
She then went to the East Wing, which had a dressing cabinet with a bronze mirror on top—presumably where Madam Zhang did her makeup.
Interested, Wufu began searching the room.
When she got to the bed, a brownish patch at the foot of it caught her attention.
Just as she was about to bring the lamp closer to inspect, a sharp cry suddenly echoed from afar in the quiet night, disturbingly piercing.
Wufu jumped, dropping the flint.
A gust of wind blew, extinguishing the fla, and she stood in the darkness.
The wind blew into the room through the open door, ghastly cold, carrying a chill with it.
Wufu shivered again, feeling uneasy and uncomfortable in her heart.
Sothing was not right about this room.
Wufu stood still in the darkness, feeling the persistent chill, unmoving.
Besides the wind, there was no other sound.
But Wufu felt there was sothing odd, anyway.
This room just gave her the creeps.
She picked up the flint from the ground, lit it again, and saw an oil lamp on the table.
After a mont’s thought, she decided to light it and turned it down low.
She walked around the room with the lamp dimd, searching like she did in the main hall.
She knelt to examine the brown spot at the end of the bed.
She brought the oil lamp close, touched the completely dried color with her finger moistened with saliva, rubbing it; a dark red appeared on her fingertip, and she sniffed it, catching a fishy scent.
It was blood.
Wufu frowned, stepped back, and observed the bed.
Then she suddenly knelt down again, touched the corner post of the bed, and compared it with another mark.
The bed had been moved.
Wufu bent down, moved the lamp towards the underside of the bed to look closer, and when she saw the cracks between the floor tiles, she paused.
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