WBICDPH Chapter 35 Part 2

Everyone else was busy with their own tasks. No one noticed Lin Jin standing off to the side, privately basking in self-satisfaction.

Until someone walked up behind him and reported firmly,

“Sir, we dug up a finger bone. The body is definitely inside.”

Lin Jin snapped back to attention, straightened his expression, and went with him to the wall.

Sure enough, as Liu Fuxin had noted, the wall was unusually thick.

From the outside, it looked like an ordinary brick wall, but once dismantled, they discovered a layer of marble slabs behind the bricks.

The guards had to expend significant effort smashing through the stone before revealing a packed layer of earth beneath.

The soil inside had long since hardened. Digging it out was another major task—and they had to be careful not to damage the remains within.

Lin Jin had intended to stay and supervise in case something went wrong. But he’d overestimated his own stamina.

Han Ao and Liu Fuxin were cultivators who had trained their bodies and no longer required sleep. Lin Jin wasn’t like them. He’d stayed up all night with them the day before, and now that the case was nearing its end and his tension had eased, exhaustion crashed over him all at once.

He didn’t even know when he fell asleep.

When he was finally woken, the sky was still dark. He was curled up by the alley wall, surrounded by a protective barrier Liu Fuxin had kindly set up to keep him from freezing to death in Zhongyun City’s snowy night.

After the guards’ overnight digging, Xu Dongsi’s remains had been laid out on a white cloth on the ground.

Nothing was left of her—just a small pile of yellowed bones, not even complete.

Han Ao stood beside him with his arms crossed.

“So what now? Everything’s clear. This should be over, right?”

“Not yet,” Lin Jin said, looking at the bones, then at the wall that had been mostly hollowed out. “There’s still one question.”

“Where is Chu Ji?”

“Huh?” Han Ao blinked. “Wasn’t Chu Ji taken by Xu Dongsi?”

Lin Jin shot him a look full of disbelief.

Before he could respond, Liu Fuxin cut in,

“When Chu Ji disappeared, Xu Dongsi was still alive. This can’t have anything to do with her. Chu Ji’s whereabouts are still a mystery.”

Lin Jin nodded and turned back to examine the exposed wall carefully.

This was where Xu Dongsi had been trapped for seven years.

Lowering his gaze, he said quietly,

“But this part was something I promised Second Master Qin separately. It has nothing to do with this mission anymore…”

He suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

Han Ao and Liu Fuxin noticed at once and followed his gaze. Lin Jin was staring intently at the exposed earth inside the wall, frozen in place.

Han Ao looked as well but saw nothing special.

Just dirt.

Yet Lin Jin suddenly strode over, crouched down, and without a second thought began rubbing the soil away with his sleeve.

Han Ao stepped closer, puzzled—and then his eyes widened.

Lin Jin had unearthed something.

A dark wooden corner—something that looked like part of a box.

A corner wasn’t enough. Lin Jin reached to dig it out fully, but before he could, Han Ao shoved him aside.

“Forget it. With your strength?”

Han Ao grabbed a shovel the guards had been using and, after a few solid strikes, pried the object loose.

An exquisitely carved rosewood box tumbled out of the wall along with clumps of dirt. Lin Jin hurried over, cradled it in his arms, and wiped away the grime with his sleeve.

He hesitated, glancing between the box and Xu Dongsi’s remains, then finally opened the stiff, timeworn latch.

In Zuitang’s story, Xu Dongsi had once owned a wooden box like this—filled with jewelry she’d saved to buy her freedom. Later, she had given it all up to secure Chu Ji’s release.

But now…

The long-sealed box opened to reveal not gold or silver, but a box full of yellowed, aged letters.

Lin Jin looked up instinctively and saw the same stunned expression reflected in Han Ao and Liu Fuxin’s eyes.

He quickly recovered, set the box down carefully, and sat cross-legged on the ground. Gently—very gently—he lifted out a letter, afraid the fragile paper might not survive rough handling.

The thin, stained page unfolded, revealing neat, elegant handwriting.

On the night of the third day of the twelfth lunar month,
to Ji Bai,

Snow falls swiftly, then clears. I hope you are well and at peace.

It has been more than two years since our parting. As I write this, I am in a tent in Lin City. Winter in Linxi is bitter; mountain winds cut sharply, year’s end brings little joy, and the nights are long and sleepless. By lamplight, I set brush to paper—if there are thoughts, I write them, unpolished and unmeasured.

…

Your words, miss, I have never forgotten. I ask only that I do all I can to fulfill that vow. Yet I do not know when or where we may meet again. If death comes suddenly—what then? Do you know my heart?

…

Do not tire of these ramblings. I wish Miss Xu lasting happiness and peace through the years.

Ji, with deepest respect.