Metropolitan Inspection—the Dafeng Dynasty's triennial evaluation system for capital officials—determined promotions and demotions based on the "Four Virtues" and "Eight Disciplines." Underperforming officials faced demotion or even dismissal.
With careers on the line, the Magistrate's panic made sense. Add a distant connection to a Jishizhong official, and one well-aimed impeachment memorial could spell disaster. An unresolved murder case in Changle County? Perfect ammunition for political rivals.
"How did he die?" Xu Qi'an asked casually.
"Went to collect rent in the countryside, came back late at night, and just happened to bump into a house thief in his own courtyard—got snapped." A colleague mimed a neck twist.
"Any witnesses?"
"His wife heard the commotion, but by the time she rushed out, he was already dead in the yard. We did find footprints along the outer wall, though."
Xu Qi'an poured himself tea, tossing in a few candied fruits pilfered from a coworker. "Could it have been an enemy disguised as a thief?" His tone mirrored those old police station debates from his past life.
"We questioned the wife, children, servants—even neighbors. No recent feuds."
"What about the night patrol?"
"The Imperial Blade Guards reported no suspicious activity nearby that night."
The capital's three concentric walls—Palace City, Inner City, Outer City—each had their own security, making unauthorized movement tricky.
While the outer city had night patrols, there was no curfew, and the gates remained open around the clock. Merchants who had filed the proper paperwork could freely enter and exit with their permits.
This policy had greatly boosted the capital's commercial trade and economic growth.
Xu Qi'an nodded. "So if it was a thief, they must have been very familiar with the Kangping Street area."
"How so?" The constables looked puzzled.
"The intruder moved around the residence at night without being spotted by patrols, meaning they had cased the place beforehand and knew the Imperial Blade Guards' routines inside out." As he analyzed, Xu Qi'an instinctively reached into his pocket for a cigarette—only to remember, with a pang of nostalgia, that such comforts didn't exist here.
He couldn't help but recall his days at the police station, where colleagues would gather in small groups, smoking and discussing cases. It was there that he'd picked up the habit himself.
His fellow constables stared at him, impressed.
"That... makes a lot of sense."
"Why didn't we think of that?"
"Ningyan, a stint in prison really sharpened your wits."
In this era, there were no formal training programs for constables—experience alone dictated skill, and the best performers rose to become chief constables.
"You might not have considered it, but Chief Constable Wang surely did. Has anyone checked the west side of the city?" Xu Qi'an kept his tone humble, avoiding any show of arrogance.
"We spent two days asking around—no suspects yet," a colleague replied.
The western district was a slum, a den of petty thieves and unsavory characters—the kind of place where, if a crime occurred, constables could round up suspects almost at random.
"How much silver was stolen?" Xu Qi'an asked, his mind already piecing together the puzzle.
A colleague glanced at him, noting how his tone now carried the weight of a magistrate. "Nothing. The victim had just returned from collecting rent—mostly small silver bits, copper coins, and grain. What thief would kill a man and then lug heavy chests of money away?"
Something's off.
Xu Qi'an narrowed his eyes. If I were the thief, and I'd cased the place beforehand, I'd have chosen to strike the next day, not the same night.
He kept this thought to himself, cracking another melon seed as his colleagues rambled on.
"What a shame for that pretty wife—so young, already widowed. That figure, those curves… not even the brothels have women like her. I'd pay a tael a night for that."
"Not that young. She's in her thirties, just twenty years younger than the deceased. Women that age… don't stay widowed for long."
Xu Qi'an sighed wistfully. "A woman in her thirties is a treasure. She knows the arts of the bedchamber—endless delights."
His worldly wisdom earned him not admiration, but raucous laughter. "You? A virgin who's never even visited a brothel? What would you know?"
The path of martial arts demanded purity before breaking through to the Qi Refining realm. The loss of primordial yang meant the heavens' gate would never open.
Thus, Xu Qi'an's "19-year-old stalwart pillar" had yet to conquer any demonesses.
...
In the magistrate's private quarters, Chief Constable Wang—his skin darkened like a weathered farmer's—stood with his head bowed, enduring the verbal lashing with slumped shoulders.
The magistrate, Squire Zhu, was a plump, fair-skinned man from Yan Province. A third-rank jinshi（the advanced scholar who passed the highest imperial examinations）from the 20th year of Yuanjing's reign, he excelled in political maneuvering but lacked administrative talent. A classic case of "mediocre at governance, but a master at climbing the ladder."
His virtues? A shred of conscience—petty corruption without outright exploitation.
His flaws? A foul temper and a habit of berating subordinates.
"Incompetence! Utter incompetence!"
Learning that Chief Constable Wang had made zero progress, Squire Zhu's face flushed with rage.
"You're supposed to be a seasoned investigator, yet a simple murder case stumps you for days?"
Beads of sweat dotted Wang's forehead, his back prickling under the verbal assault.
With the Metropolitan Inspection looming, Zhu's temper had grown volcanic. Chief Li, though a decades-long friend of Wang's, dared not intervene.
He knew the magistrate craved promotion, which required two things: connections and achievements.
Without achievements, connections alone invited impeachment.
With both? Smooth sailing up the bureaucratic ladder.
And where did achievements come from?
The Inspection was the ultimate test.
After a quarter-hour tirade, Magistrate Zhu finally picked up his teacup and took a sip.
In officialdom, this was the universal signal: Get out.
Seizing the cue, Chief Li tugged the shell-shocked Wang away, both men retreating like whipped dogs.
Chief Constable Wang returned to the rest room with an ugly expression on his face. The chaotic room fell silent all of a sudden, and everyone looked at Chief Constable Wang cautiously.
"Boss, did Magistrate Zhu scold you again?"
Chief Constable Wang rolled his eyes, grabbed the tea cup and took a big gulp. "Damn it! The victim is dead and the thief has fled. Where the hell am I supposed to find them? I'm really unlucky today. I even lost a qian of silver."
So it was you who lost that money... Xu Qian'an shrank his neck and took a sip of tea to hide his guilty conscience.
It's obvious that silver has no affinity with you.
After listening to Chief Constable Wang's complaints, a young constable gave him a bad idea. "How about, fishing for a scapegoat?"
Xu Qian'an's eyebrows twitched.
"Fishing for a scapegoat" was a professional term in the lower ranks of the officialdom!
It meant: finding a scapegoat.
Limited by technology and equipment, most cases in ancient times were unsolved mysteries, and the detection rate was extremely low. Sometimes, due to reasons such as officials seeking political achievements or pressure from superiors, in order to meet the requirements, they would find a scapegoat.
The process was like this. First, the local clerks would select a group of old ruffians who often committed crimes. Their names would be written on pieces of paper and folded up, and then the official would randomly pick one.
Whoever was picked would be the scapegoat.
That's why it was called "fishing for a scapegoat".
Once the unlucky guy was identified, the clerks would go to arrest him, and after bringing him back to the yamen and going through a set of procedures called "torturing someone into confessing false charges", even the toughest person would confess.
The superiors would be satisfied, the middle-ranking officials would be appreciated, and the clerks would receive rewards. It seemed like a win-win situation for everyone.
The scapegoat wasn't really wronged either. After all, he was a bad guy. Sending him to the next reincarnation earlier was also for the well-being of the surrounding common people.
There were many, many similar underhanded operations in the officialdom.
Chief Constable Wang nodded. "It can only be like this. Xiao Li, you go and handle this matter. Pick a few ruffians who are more troublesome and are older."
Just as Xiao Li was about to nod, Xu Qian'an frowned and said, "Wait! Boss, there are many doubts in this case. It's not that there's no way to start the investigation."
Xu Qian'an didn't accept this reasoning.
Although he hadn't been a policeman for many years, the values and worldviews he had established back then were still intact. Even though those people were ruffians who committed crimes, their crimes didn't deserve the death penalty. Even if they were deserved to die, each case should be judged separately.
If they found someone to take the blame here, wouldn't the real culprit get away with it easily?
Chief Constable Wang's face darkened, and he didn't say anything. He gave Xu Qian'an an unhappy look.
Everyone started to persuade him one after another:
"Ning Yan, don't meddle in other people's business."
"The boss gets scolded every day. There's really no other way. Besides, it's just a ruffian who often causes trouble."
Those who had a closer relationship with him said, "Boss, Ning Yan's family has just suffered a great disaster. It's inevitable that he's a bit sensitive to this kind of thing."
Chief Constable Wang turned a deaf ear and stared at Xu Qian'an. Looking unhappy, he said with a sullen face, "Tell me, how are you going to investigate!"
"Give me the case files!" Xu Qian'an said straightforwardly.