Li Qingge truly had not been at ease about Wang Chong, and that was why she had quietly followed along to look in on him. Wang Chong's vigilance was wanting, and he failed entirely to notice this goddess among constables watching from the side.
Had he been an ordinary man, knowing that a pretty young maid was bathing in the stream close by—the scene enchanting, soft water and yielding willow—he would have been sitting on pins and needles, moved to any number of unmentionable deeds. But Wang Chong had truly tasted the finer things in life. Back when he shared hotel rooms with a few ex-girlfriends, he could still find the leisure, while waiting for them to shower, to squeeze in a duo-queue match, breezy and untroubled, as open as moonlight after rain—which left even Li Qingge full of admiration. Her stepping into view now was, in truth, an apology in disguise.
Wang Chong read between the lines and said with a smile, "I, Wang, am widely read in the classics; I naturally understand heavenly principle and human morality."
What he actually wanted to say was, "Sooner or later it's all meat in my pot anyway—what is there to get jumpy about?" But that answer did not befit the role, so he could only substitute something more high-sounding.
Li Qingge's respect for him deepened further. "Miss Lu and Miss Su have both replied. Tomorrow at first light we shall take Li Miaomiao to pay them a visit."
Wang Chong drew a deep breath and thought, "If I can pass this trial, my innocence will be washed clean. If something slips..."
"Deal with it when it comes!"
He assented, mulled for a moment, then asked, "Are the fair maidens of Qingcheng still in Pengshan County?"
Li Qingge smiled. "The Qingcheng heroines have all departed."
Wang Chong gave a small nod. With the Qingcheng women gone, things felt much lighter. He always had the feeling that no sooner had they parted than it was time to meet Chu Qiuzi again—most peculiar, as though he simply could not shake off this Qingcheng heroine. Though he bore Chu Qiuzi no dislike at all, he still wanted a little more room to "breathe."
Unable to contain her curiosity, Li Qingge asked, "Young Master Wang, in your closed seclusion today, what formidable art did you master, that it stirred up such a commotion?"
Wang Chong had no wish to bring up his completion of the Nine-Headed Dragon King Aspect. The origins of the Thirty-Two Aspects Spirit-Transformation Cultivation Fundamental Classic and the Correct Explanation of the Four Aspects were somewhat unclean, and the fact that he had finished mastering a spirit transformation in a single day was rather shocking in itself—better left unsaid. He answered in a low voice, "I gained some small insight into the Pure Yang Formula, and for a moment failed to rein in my hand."
Li Qingge was half persuaded, half doubtful. Skilled as her own martial arts were, she could not read another's style from the wreckage of buildings blasted apart. "Then congratulations are in order, Young Master Wang—another step forward from the top of the hundred-foot pole."
Wang Chong laughed. "You're too kind, too kind."
The three chatted idly the whole way back to the Daoist temple. By now Li Qingge trusted Wang Chong considerably more, and she invited him to go over the case through the night. He did not decline, and followed her to her quiet chamber. As the two of them pored over the case files, he asked for paper and brush and drew up a table, entering into it: which women White Chrysanthemum had carried off, and what had become of each of them; whom he had killed; which martial arts he had used, and how many times each had been used...
When Li Qingge saw the table, it was as though she were gazing upon an immortal, and she admired it enormously. At once she drew other conclusions from it. "White Chrysanthemum used the Holding-Candle Swordplay only once—or it may have been the Fire-Burning-Eyebrows Swordplay of the Green Mountain Sect of the Western Regions. But there must be something wrong with this case; it is not quite like the others.
"The art he used most for killing was the Ice Soul Finger; he took thirty-one lives with that sinister martial art in all. Yet in these cases the dead were mostly men, and of the six women involved, four astonishingly survived, every one of them insisting she had never been violated. No one believed them—especially as three of the women were no longer virgins and could offer no proof of their innocence at all—but I suspect every one of the Ice Soul Finger cases conceals another story."
Li Qingge's analysis won Wang Chong's real admiration. He thought, "This goddess among constables really is a professional. With her teasing the threads apart like this, the picture of the case has grown far clearer." Then he suddenly recalled that both Kong Chan and Xuan Gang had seen that what Sun Yanqi had used was the Ice Serpent Divine Aspect, not the Ice Soul Finger. He meant to point it out, but could not think how to put it.
The two of them studied the case the whole night through, and he never found his opening; he could only set the matter aside for the time being. As dawn drew near, Li Qingge proposed they meditate briefly and then set out, and Wang Chong had no choice but to agree.
He sat in meditation for a while and felt the Pure Yang true qi throughout his body lively and brimming, with much further progress; his spirits rose with it. Then he shifted into the Nine-Headed Dragon King Aspect, and felt that the newborn Buddhist true qi, unlike the Pure Yang Formula, tempered the sinews and refined the bones, scoured the flesh and cleansed the marrow—strength born of the heart, intent joined with spirit, qi arising from within, blood moistening from without. Through his four limbs and every bone, thread after thread of strength seemed to come forth in turn, adding roughly one to two hundred jin. Bear in mind, the weightlifting record on Earth was a mere four to five hundred jin; his own original strength had been two to three hundred jin; and when he had dueled Qian Luo Yi, a modest breakthrough had added at least fifty or sixty jin of strength. He now surpassed any human on Earth—even if he met bears or tigers in the mountains, he could face them head-on!
Wang Chong came out of his trance to find Li Qingge's lovely eyes fixed on him without so much as a blink. He touched his cheek. "Constable Li, why do you stare at me so?"
Li Qingge smiled faintly. "I suddenly understand why the Purple-Green Jade Maiden of Qingcheng fell for you at first sight—and why even Miss Su, the Chess-Sword Linglong, looks on you differently, and made you a gift of a maid."
Wang Chong shrugged. He knew he was handsome, but it was chiefly his "outstanding talent." His greatest need at present was to clear his name quickly and prove himself a good man; he had no mind to tease this goddess among constables just now, though Li Qingge suited his tastes perfectly well too.
"Let us go!" said Li Qingge.
Wang Chong assented. "Let me go call Yu Zao."
Li Qingge burst out laughing. "Go on, then."
She had assumed at first that Wang Chong was fond of the maid, and that was why he kept her at his side at all times. But after yesterday's "peeping," this goddess among constables had seen through it: what Wang Chong feared was that a lone man traveling with a lone woman was a thing hard to explain—with this maid along, no one could spread gossip.
This was Wang Chong's workplace wisdom: never be alone with a colleague of the opposite sex, lest he end up the subject of some damning little essay. He did not think this goddess among constables was that sort of person—she was a true career heroine, after all—but he had made a habit of such prudence.
Li Qingge had also meant to bring Li Miaomiao along, but the wronged nun absolutely refused to travel with them, so the three of them could only quit the Daoist temple on horseback, each on their own mount. Wang Dong watched his master ride away, then went straight back to his room and lay down. Since attaching himself to Wang Chong he had found the days utterly pleasant: Wang Chong almost never set him any task and was always good-natured, and when they went out on business he need only watch the luggage. Nothing about this life displeased him.
Sun Mingke stood with twin swords angled aslant, the bearing different again from that first descent of the mountain—plainly swordsmanship and martial arts alike had gained in refinement.
Watching nearby, Su Luo Yan and Lu Yaoniang were each in quite different spirits. Wang Chong had suddenly crossed Su Luo Yan's mind, and she thought, "What an abundance of talents the world holds today!?"
Lu Yaoniang heaved a sigh. "Little junior brother, if you had possessed this swordsmanship that day, that lecher would never have escaped."
Su Luo Yan gave a graceful smile. "And are you certain, Sister Lu, that the lecher was White Chrysanthemum?"
...Ma You: I have disgorged every last tael of silver embezzled over the years...
...Su Luo Yan: Could the one who killed my young brother be someone else...
...Sun Mingke: I swear to take back the protagonist's role...
Chapter 36