Mr. Sullivan glanced back at the short-mustached Jinyiwei, then looked at Brian Carter again, a suspicious look appearing on his face.

Brian Carter remained calm and said slowly, “That commoner’s real name is Sam Bolton, his son is called Henry Bolton, both from Gu’an. They came to Shuntian Prefecture in accordance with His Majesty’s edict to move the capital, and have lived on Changliu Street in Shuntian Prefecture for three years now. He is timid and cowardly by nature, making a living selling breakfast…”

The short-mustached Jinyiwei questioned, “And does any of this prove that Sam Bolton isn’t the murderer?”

Brian Carter smiled and said, “Of course, this doesn’t prove it. But I noticed traces of undried brine on his sleeves and trouser legs, which must have come from getting up early to steam buns… I tasted the buns made by Sam Bolton—they were white and soft, quite skillfully made.”

The short-mustached Jinyiwei mocked, “Everything you say is trivial. What does any of this have to do with whether Sam Bolton is the murderer?”

Brian Carter chuckled, “It’s actually very relevant. If an ordinary person had killed someone at Qingshou Temple, he would surely be flustered and at a loss. How could he still go about steaming buns and doing business like Sam Bolton? Since Sam Bolton managed to make good buns, it shows his behavior was as usual, with nothing weighing on his conscience. He shouldn’t be involved in the incident at Qingshou Temple.”

The short-mustached Jinyiwei was left speechless.

Mr. Sullivan slowly nodded, patted Brian Carter on the shoulder, and said with a smile, “Brian, you truly are observant and have not let down my trust. Keep up the good work.” After a brief pause, he asked, “Well, have you found anything from examining the corpse?”

Brian Carter gazed at the corpse, his expression somewhat puzzled. After a while, he said, “I have not yet determined the cause of death.”

Mr. Sullivan frowned, but before he could speak, the short-mustached Jinyiwei couldn’t help but say, “There’s a gaping wound in the victim’s chest from a weapon—obviously that’s what killed him. Brian Carter, don’t tell me that’s not a fatal wound!”

Mr. Sullivan suddenly turned and barked, “Samuel Parker, if you don’t shut up, do you believe I won’t sew your mouth shut and throw you in the latrine?”

Samuel Parker turned pale and involuntarily took half a step back.

Mr. Sullivan’s face was still clouded with anger as he turned to Brian Carter and asked, “How do you know the wound on the victim’s chest isn’t the fatal injury?” Brian Carter frowned and said, “Judging by the shape and cut of the wound on the chest, it was likely made by a very fast short blade…”

Mr. Sullivan asked in surprise, “How can you be sure it was a short blade?”

Brian Carter slowly drew his sword, handed the hilt to Mr. Sullivan, and said, “Sir, try using this sword to stab Wuxin…”

Mr. Sullivan mimed the motion for a moment, then nodded, “You’re right. Normally, with a blade this long, it shouldn’t be possible to make a wound at that angle.”

Brian Carter took back the long sword and sheathed it, a strange look in his eyes. “But there’s something odd—the wound near the heart, if stabbed in, should have caused a lot of blood to flow out.”

Mr. Sullivan’s eyes showed approval, and he said with satisfaction, “Exactly, that’s what puzzled me too. I saw that there was hardly any blood around the wound on the corpse. This can only mean one thing…” He drew out his words, clearly waiting for Brian Carter’s explanation. After a moment, Brian Carter nodded and said, “Yes, when this stab was made, Wuxin had already been dead for some time, which is why there wasn’t much blood! This is very unusual… Why would the killer make such a pointless stab?”

Mr. Sullivan’s gaze suddenly turned strange, and he muttered, “Unless the murderer had a deep grudge against Wuxin, and so stabbed him in the chest even after he was dead. Or perhaps he wanted to make sure Wuxin was truly dead, so he added another stab…” Sensing that his explanation was unsatisfactory, Mr. Sullivan changed the subject, “But if Wuxin was already dead before being stabbed, what was the real cause of death? And who could have such a deep hatred for Wuxin to risk coming to Qingshou Temple to kill him?”

These questions had actually occurred to Mr. Sullivan long ago, but no matter how he thought about it, there were no answers. The more he pondered, the more uneasy he felt. With his years of experience, he already sensed that beneath the surface of this seemingly ordinary murder at Qingshou Temple, there was something highly unusual.

Brian Carter frowned, touched the corpse’s arm, then slowly withdrew his hand, his eyes full of astonishment.

Seeing this, Mr. Sullivan quickly asked, “What did you find?”

Brian Carter hesitated, “I dare not say.”

Mr. Sullivan grew a bit impatient, “Just say it.”

Brian Carter took a deep breath, his pale face showing shock, “I suspect this person… froze to death!”

A cold wind swept through, and everyone shivered.

Samuel Parker heard this and, if not for fear of Mr. Sullivan’s anger, would have loudly accused Brian Carter of nonsense. In this weather, though the rain was chilling, how could anyone freeze to death?

This Brian Carter had been quite conspicuous among the Jinyiwei lately, but to come to such an absurd conclusion was unexpected. Samuel Parker wanted to laugh, but when he saw Mr. Sullivan’s expression, his smile froze on his face.

He had never seen Mr. Sullivan look so grim!

At that moment, Mr. Sullivan’s face was ashen, the corners of his mouth twitching uncontrollably, the scar-like wrinkle between his brows furrowed even tighter, even revealing a hint of blood red beneath!

So that really was a scar.

Who had left that scar on Mr. Sullivan’s forehead?

Samuel Parker was utterly shocked, unable to understand why, even if Wuxin had frozen to death, Mr. Sullivan would be so terrified. Such an expression on Mr. Sullivan’s face was truly unimaginable!