As if staged in a meticulously crafted drama, the morning sun slanted through the dense woods outside Fengxiang Garden, casting subtle, cool shadows. Chen Geng and Ye Nanqiao, accompanied by several attendants, hurriedly arrived, their figures appearing and disappearing in the mist, exuding urgency.

Their attendants dispersed to search, blending with the swaying shadows of the trees. Ye Nanqiao moved gracefully through the woods, with Chen Geng following closely, both with heavy, probing gazes.

Engrossed in their respective tasks, the attendants either scrutinized the ground or exchanged potential clues. Each careful movement seemed to unearth long-buried truths.

An inconspicuous stone stool caught Ye Nanqiao's attention. She approached and gently knelt on the damp grass, meticulously examining the surrounding soil. Her touch seemed to resonate with the breath and pulse of the earth, her expression shifting from solemn to focused, revealing a hint of a smile.

Standing nearby, Chen Geng closely monitored every detail, constantly glancing at Ye Nanqiao. When her eyes brightened, he knew she had found something significant.

Ye Nanqiao motioned to him, and Chen Geng quickly approached, focusing on the stone stool she was examining. “Have you found something?”

“Recent days have been dry, yet this soil shows clear signs of disturbance,” Ye Nanqiao pointed out.

“I'll check.” Chen Geng furrowed his brow and crouched down, deftly moving the stone stool to reveal a thin layer of soil underneath. He and Ye Nanqiao leaned in, their attention fixed on a short sword buried there.

Ye Nanqiao carefully lifted the sword, examining it closely with Chen Geng in the sunlight.

“This sword has no bloodstains and appears meticulously wiped. An ordinary murderer in panic would dispose of the weapon more directly. Why bury it so elaborately here, near the Yonghuai River, where a simple toss would leave no trace?” Ye Nanqiao whispered her suspicions to Chen Geng. “Moreover, the site is less than a hundred steps from the scene. Chen Quanan fled in such a hurry he didn’t even pick up the Weaving Maid figurine. How could he have buried the weapon so well?”

Chen Geng’s brow creased slightly, responding softly, “This matter is fraught with mystery. Clearly, someone familiar with the area deliberately left misleading evidence.”

Ye Nanqiao and Chen Geng exchanged a meaningful glance, understanding that everything here contradicted Chen Quanan's confession. The truth, like a layer of mist, seemed within reach yet remained elusive.

Sighing lightly, Chen Geng stood up and instructed the attendants to continue searching the area. He then called over Wei Zhaoyang, who was directing the search nearby. “Go to the Drunken Life Building and tell Brother Cheng to meet at the prefectural office in half an hour.”

Wei Zhaoyang nodded, understandingly mounted his horse, and galloped toward the town, his horse kicking up dust trails.

Half an hour later, at the prefectural office.

The pale morning light streamed through the crimson window lattice, casting warm patches on the blue stone floor of the office, filling the air with a cool and tranquil morning ambiance. After concluding their final search, Chen Geng and Ye Nanqiao hurried back, ushered into the backyard by Wei Zhaoyang, who had been waiting at the door. Cheng Wuyue and Mu Jin had been waiting for a while. Upon seeing Mu Jin, Chen Geng paused briefly before nodding and continuing without a word.

As they gathered, Cheng Wuyue eagerly inquired, “Wei brother mentioned finding the murder weapon in Wang Li's case?”

“Following the information in Chen Quanan's suicide note yesterday, Chen Geng and I searched the dense woods outside Fengxiang Garden early this morning. We found this under a large rock. Does it match the wound?” Ye Nanqiao produced the short sword, its cold light flickering, and placed it on the table.

Cheng Wuyue reached out to receive the short sword, his fingertips gently sliding along the blade. After careful observation, he sighed, shaking his head in disappointment, "This is not the murder weapon. The wound on Wang Li was caused by a single-edged sword, whereas this is a double-edged blade."

Ye Nanqiao nodded thoughtfully, then turned to the silent Mu Jin, "Sister Mu, with your extensive knowledge, can you discern anything unusual?"

Mu Jin leaned forward to take the short sword. The blade reflected a chilling light in the morning sun. She closely examined it - the blade wasn’t long, the weight moderate, and the hilt showed no signs of wear, almost like a new sword.

"It's just an ordinary sword," Mu Jin concluded, placing it back on the table.

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Ye Nanqiao's expression dimmed with disappointment. "It seems we're back to square one."

"Perhaps not," Mu Jin disagreed, looking at Cheng Wuyue, "Single-edged swords are rare. Can the size and length be deduced from the wound?"

"It should be similar to this sword," Cheng Wuyue replied, turning to Wei Zhaoyang, "Do you have paper and ink?"

Wei Zhaoyang promptly fetched the writing materials, carefully arranging them on the stone table. With the inkstone placed centrally, brush, ink, and paper were all at hand.

Cheng Wuyue then closed his eyes and began to draw, picturing the scene: a sharp, single-edged blade penetrating Wang Li's body, narrowly missing the bone, slicing through the vessels, and piercing the heart. He deduced the blade's length to be about one foot two inches, with a width of about three inches, and the distance from tip to hilt about four feet five inches – dimensions sufficient for a fatal blow.

Upon opening his eyes, Cheng Wuyue meticulously sketched the sword. Before he could finish, Mu Jin recognized its origin.

"It's the standard weapon of the border army from over a decade ago. I've seen it a few times," Mu Jin observed, her voice low but resolute, "Only the commanders guarding the frontier were equipped with such swords, usually bestowed by the court as a symbol of honor and responsibility."

Her gaze moved from the drawing to Cheng Wuyue and Chen Geng, deep and insightful, as if unveiling the secrets behind the short sword, "We should be looking for a commander now."

Chen Geng's brow furrowed in deep thought, a flicker of realization in his eyes. Ye Nanqiao also pondered, rapidly filtering through potential suspects in her mind.

The group sat in a tense, contemplative atmosphere, a ray of morning light shining through the window lattice onto the short sword on the table, hinting at something. Their eyes wandered over it, and Mu Jin's words unlocked their chain of thoughts.

"A special weapon of a frontier commander..." Chen Geng slowly voiced out, his tone laced with suppressed surprise, "Could this sword belong to Wei Si?"

"Wei Si?" Ye Nanqiao frowned, searching her memory for this name.

"That's right! How could I forget him!" Wei Zhaoyang suddenly stood up, slapping his forehead and turning to Ye Nanqiao, "I saw him once when visiting Wang's residence. He was tall and imposing, polite in his dealings, but seemed rather inconspicuous at Wang's house. I forgot about him after that, a grave oversight."

Cheng Wuyue also nodded, "The housekeeper at Wang's said he's Wang Shouzheng's nephew. Wang Shouzheng's sister married the frontier commander Wei Rong, who died young on the battlefield. Following her death, Wei Si, still a child, was taken in by Wang Shouzheng. Unfortunately, he was born with a disability; otherwise, he might have been a warrior on the battlefield."

"Born with a disability?" Ye Nanqiao suddenly remembered the description of the perpetrator by Hua Hai and Chen Quanan, "Could it be a cripple? They mentioned a staggering figure, possibly a cripple..."

"The damned cripple!" Before Ye Nanqiao could finish, the parrot "General" hanging quietly in the courtyard suddenly fluffed up its feathers, its eyes bulging as if the term struck a nerve. It began to shriek loudly, its voice filled with anger and disdain.

"The damned cripple!" it cursed, each word sharp and sarcastic.

"A beggar!" it continued, each word like a shot arrow, equally piercing and ironic.

"Pity you weren't born a Wang!" The last sentence was especially cutting, as if venting some deep-seated inequality or past resentment.

Everyone was taken aback by this sudden outburst, pausing their tightly wound reasoning and dialogue.

Amidst the sharp cries of the parrot, the image of Wei Si grew clearer in everyone's minds. Ye Nanqiao, however, remained undisturbed by the commotion, her thoughts flowing gently: "Wait, everyone. We have overlooked something crucial — the county yamen."

Her piercing gaze swept over each person present, "Chen Geng and I had just returned from the county jail, and soon after, Chen Quanan met his untimely death, leaving a confession. All these coincidences seem like someone is secretly leading us."

Chen Geng's furrowed brows seemed to relax slightly as he agreed in a grave tone, "Nanqiao is right. Before our interrogation, no one knew of Chen Quanan's connection to the case. Within the county yamen, especially among those involved in the case, there must be Wei Si's accomplices."

Wei Zhaoyang snorted coldly, "What's there to guess? The county jail may not be as strict as the prefectural governor's prison, but it's still tightly guarded. How could a prisoner die so silently without someone higher up pulling strings? Moreover, to fabricate false evidence in such a short time, it must be that arrogant county magistrate... I've had doubts about him since the Luo family case."

"Liu Changyu has been in charge of the county yamen. With his power and status, if he indeed intends to conceal the truth, it's not difficult," Cheng Wuyue added, "His actions in handling the Wang Li case were too hasty, seemingly deliberately overlooking the many contradictions in the case."

Hearing agreement, Wei Zhaoyang eagerly stood up, slamming the table, "Then shouldn't we act immediately to prevent them from causing more trouble?"

Ye Nanqiao shook her head, signaling for calm, "Haste is not wise. We need solid evidence to strike accurately. Right now, we should act cautiously, leaving no opportunity for the adversary."

Wei Zhaoyang gently tapped the table, "What's the next plan?"

Chen Geng's gaze swept across each person, finally resting on Mu Jin, "If we see a sword being worn, can you identify it, Miss?"

Mu Jin nodded, her tone unflappable, "Certainly."

Chen Geng nodded slightly and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opened them again, a sense of calm had returned to his demeanor. "It is time for us to uncover the truth." he declared resolutely.