At three past four in the morning, the sun was at its peak. The blazing sunlight scorched the bluestone slabs of the General's Mansion, and even the swallows nesting under the porch were too lazy to flap their wings. Shen Weiwan leaned on the soft couch of the carved carriage, her fingertips tapping intermittently on the window sill. Her gaze, through the diamond-shaped window lattice, fell on the bronze bell hanging from the eaves of the Guanyin Temple on the outskirts of the city. The wind blew past, and the bell's tongue made a soft, creaking sound, as if accompaniment to the farce that was about to unfold.
"Miss, are you really going to let that old hag Liu pry open the storehouse?" Chuntao lifted the curtain at the corner of the sedan chair and handed over a celadon food box. Inside was a sweet-scented osmanthus cake freshly bought from a well-known pastry shop, its golden crust sprinkled with finely chopped icing sugar. "Yesterday, you deliberately dangled the storehouse key around your neck. I saw her eyes turn green, like a she-wolf at the sight of blood."
Chen Weiwan picked up a piece of osmanthus cake, her fingertips rolling over the delicate dough, and crumbs fell onto the hem of her moon-white, gold-trimmed skirt. She raised an eyebrow and looked at Chuntao. A faint red mark on her wrist shone a pale pink in the sunlight—a smudge she'd created this morning with rouge while pretending to sort boxes. "Why not keep her for New Year's? The way she looked at the key yesterday, she wanted to pounce on it and gnaw through the red string. We'll have a good show when we get home later." She brought the cake to her lips, a hint of "provoking a beating" curling her lips. "Go tell the old housekeeper that the 'warehouse-guarding mousetrap' in the warehouse needs a new one, so it doesn't really hurt the 'distinguished guest'."
Meanwhile, Liu was scrambling through the crack of the corner gate, her pearl headband stained with sweat, plastered to her lush forehead, a few strands of hair clinging to her temples. Seeing Chen Weiwan's carriage disappear behind the flower-draped gate at the corner, she abruptly straightened up, her gilded armor scraping against the door panel with a sharp creaking sound, startling the swallows perched on the beams and sending them fluttering and flying.
"Lü'e!" she growled, her earrings jingling with her movements. "Go to the front yard and tie up that new locksmith! Then call in those nimble servants of Mrs. Wang's, and bring the crowbars from the corner of the warehouse!"
Lu'e trembled as she pulled out a silver ingot from her sleeve pocket. Her fingertips rubbed the edge of the silver ingot, leaving a few sweat stains. "Madam, I just saw that before Chen Weiwan left, she strung the key on a red string and hid it in her lapel. We don't have the key..."
"Can't you pry it open without the key?" Liu snatched the silver, her nails scratching white marks on the silver ingot, "I've found the secret compartments where the general hid his weapons when he was fighting at the border. Why would I be afraid of a broken copper lock?" She stepped on the three-inch-high flower pot bottoms, her skirt sweeping across the copper rust on the corridor railings, and rushed to the storehouse in a hurry. The red-gold phoenix hairpin on her bun shook violently and almost slipped from her hair.
Half an hour later, the locksmith was carried to the warehouse door by two burly women. His knees slammed heavily on the hot bluestone, making a loud "dong dong" sound. He stared at the thick copper lock on the door, swallowing with his Adam's apple rolling. "Madam, spare me... This, this is a Thousand Machine Lock made by the time-honored Wanjilou in the south of the city. Without a key, you need a special seven-sided iron chisel. Ordinary tools are impossible..."
"Tools?" Liu smashed the gilded incense burner to the ground, sending shards of porcelain flying everywhere, a few splashing onto the locksmith's pale face. "I've got plenty of money!" She shook open the purse at her waist, and silver flakes tumbled onto the floor, gleaming blindingly in the sunlight. "If you pry it open, I'll give you ten taels! If you try to trick me—" She pointed to the stable next to her, where a lame old donkey lay, "I'll lock you up with that lame donkey and starve you for three days!"
The locksmith looked at the silver scattered on the ground, then glanced at the lame donkey swishing its tail in the stable. He gritted his teeth and pulled out the iron pick from his waist. The midday sun shone directly on the copper lock, making the beads of sweat on his forehead shine like broken diamonds. Liu paced anxiously, pinching the brocade handkerchief in her hand and muttering to herself, "There must be three boxes of pearls from the South China Sea tribute, the general's black fox fur cloak... and Chen Weiwan's mother's red gold hairpin. It must be hidden in the sandalwood box at the back. Her stepmother always liked to stuff treasures into the darkest places..."
With a soft "crack," the rotten wooden door slammed open, a foul odor of dust and mildew lashing out. Liu sneezed three times, rubbing her nose as she rushed into the warehouse. But she paused as she took in the scene inside—over twenty wooden crates, sealed with cinnabar, lined neatly in two rows. Cobwebs dangled from the beams. A half-filled basket of moldy rice husks lay piled in the corner, and a few fat rats scurried frightenedly beneath the crates.
"Open! Open all the boxes!" Liu kicked over the nearest wooden box, its armor scratching white marks on the yellowed seal. Wang Po wielded her crowbar to pry open the first box's lid, sending up rotten leaves mixed with dust. At the bottom lay only half a gnawed, pitted steamed bread, with a few rice-sized woodlice crawling around it.
"Impossible!" Liu screamed, leaping at the second box, her gilded armor scratching against the wooden crate. The third, the fifth... When the twelfth box revealed its bare interior, she spun around, grabbing the locksmith by the collar, her golden hairpin nearly blinding him. "Tell me! Did you conspire with that little bitch Shen Weiwan? Where did you hide my jewelry?!"
The locksmith was so frightened that his crotch was wet. He pointed to the corner of the wall and said tremblingly: "Madam... Madam, look!"
Liu turned around suddenly and saw that the hem of her pearl-studded skirt had somehow caught on the hemp rope at the corner of the box. The other end was attached to a half-foot-long iron clamp. A crisp snap shook the dust to a halt. The cold mousetrap had bitten into her wrist tightly. Blood oozed from the sharp teeth and dripped onto the bluestone slab like a handful of scattered red beans.
"Ah!" A heart-wrenching scream nearly toppled the tiles from the warehouse. Liu's arms swung, colliding with the wooden crate behind her. The back of her head slammed against the corner, instantly creating a bump the size of an egg, more conspicuous than the peony beads in her hair. As the servants frantically worked on the mousetrap, she caught a glimpse of an aqua-green glass bead rolling out from the crack of the innermost wooden crate. It was the gift she had given to Chen Ruorou last year, but now it felt like a slap in the face, slamming hard into her.
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