Brian Carter couldn’t be bothered with him and didn’t respond. The young constable, however, wouldn’t let it go, lecturing him in an old-fashioned, overbearing tone: “This case is serious, you can’t mess around. When we get there, be smart—if you can examine, then do it; if you can’t, just step aside. Don’t go fumbling around and ruin the evidence. If you can’t help, at least don’t make things worse! If you really can’t handle it, just say so. I’ll ask the magistrate to request help from the prefecture and send someone capable down. It’s just that going back and forth would waste time, so you’re being sent ahead to take a look…”

Brian Carter was so annoyed by him that he turned his head and stared at the young constable, then seemed to notice something, a hint of surprise in his eyes: “Your face…”

The young constable was startled. “What about my face?”

“It’s been washed by the rain for a while, and now your face doesn’t look as dark as before.” Brian Carter spread his hands, his voice noticeably lower, as if muttering to himself, but just loud enough for the young constable to hear: “Can a face lose its color? First time I’ve seen that. Don’t tell me it’s dyed? What’s that called… disguise?”

The young constable’s expression changed—he looked a bit guilty, a bit annoyed, but finally shut his mouth, grunted, and ignored Brian Carter.

Chapter Five: The Inn

Brian Carter hadn’t expected that after running for nearly half an hour, they still hadn’t reached the crime scene.

They’d run from the town all the way to the outskirts, more than twenty li, and the squad leader still showed no sign of stopping. Brian Carter couldn’t help but ask, “Aren’t we there yet?”

“Still ten li to go. The magistrate and the third squad already set out early this morning. We need to hurry up too,” the squad leader replied, panting heavily.

Brian Carter clicked his tongue. “That far?”

The squad leader looked frustrated. “Tell me about it! If those people had died three li further south, it wouldn’t even be our jurisdiction, and we wouldn’t have to deal with this mess.”

By now, the squad leader was gasping for breath, his hat askew and his saber crooked, while Brian Carter was drenched in sweat and complaining nonstop. Only the young constable looked completely unfazed, breathing steadily, his steps light and each stride covering a full zhang. If it weren’t for the two “burdens,” he could probably run even faster.

Though he showed no sign of fatigue, the young constable still asked the squad leader in puzzlement, “Where are the horses? What happened to all the yamen’s horses?” He’d only been transferred here two days ago and was still unfamiliar with the local office.

The squad leader held up three fingers. “Small yamen—only three horses in total. One was taken by the magistrate, one by Old Four to deliver a message to the prefecture, and the last one… well, it’s not much younger than me. It can barely stand on its own. If you’re looking to ‘damage public property,’ go ahead and ride it.”

Brian Carter chuckled at that, but the young constable’s face darkened. “Yan Ziping only has three official horses? The Southern Law clearly states that town and county offices must have at least nine horses. What about the other six?”

The squad leader’s mouth twitched, but he ignored him and just said, “Let’s hurry up, don’t keep the magistrate waiting.”

After running another ten li with no farmland in sight, the three of them found themselves in the middle of nowhere. After crossing another ridge, the squad leader pointed to a building in the distance that looked like an inn. “That’s the place!”

The young constable had sounded so serious earlier, but in fact, he was just like Brian Carter, dragged out of bed and rushed over, knowing only that something had happened but not what. Now, seeing the building ahead, he squinted. “Out here in the wilderness, hardly a soul around, and someone opens an inn here… must be up to no good. Looks more like a bandit’s den to me.”

Brian Carter smiled. “It’s just an inn, no bandits, I’m sure. I even came here a few times as a kid. But this place isn’t for the living—it’s a yin inn, a place for corpse drivers to rest.” In the south, there are “mountain stream tribes” skilled at driving corpses, traveling by night and resting by day. At sunrise, they always look for a place to stop, and in the deep mountains and forests, there are often such yin inns—not for living guests, but for the convenience of the dead.

The squad leader chimed in, “Funny thing is, last night a traveler from out of town passed by, thought this was a regular inn, and went in to stay. He was scared half to death and ran to the town to report to the authorities in the middle of the night… We’ve already questioned him. When he entered the inn, the incident had just happened—the blood on the ground hadn’t even coagulated yet, it was flowing everywhere.”

As they spoke, the three of them quickened their pace and arrived at the yin inn. The county magistrate of Yan Ziping had already arrived.

The magistrate’s surname was Thompson. He was completely incompetent—a thoroughly muddle-headed official—but he did have one good trait: he never put on airs. He drew a salary from the court, skimmed a bit off the top when he could, and lived an easy life, always smiling. But now that a major case had happened in his jurisdiction, he couldn’t smile anymore. He glared at Brian Carter and demanded, “Where’s your uncle? Why isn’t he here?”

“He went out and hasn’t come back yet.”

“Outrageous! I’ll have to punish him for dereliction of duty.” Thompson the magistrate fumed, cursing a few times before finally calming down. Then he patted Brian Carter on the shoulder. “Go in and examine the scene. Be thorough, do a good job. If you can find any useful clues and help solve the case, I’ll consider it a merit and let your uncle off the hook.”

“No, let’s keep things separate. If I really do a good job, you can reward me. As for my uncle, if he deserves punishment, then punish him.” Brian Carter smiled easily and turned to walk toward the building.