Too many female prisoners, a special forces soldier transmigrates and marries wildly.

He entered the shop. The clerk went to the back room to announce his arrival, and a moment later, a middle-aged man wearing a silk shirt, with a protruding belly and a mustache, came out.

"Sir, what brings you here to see me, Mr. Sun?"

"Boss Sun," Lin Feng looked at him, "this shop, so it's Moyunzhai, isn't it?"

Shopkeeper Sun's smile froze: "Yes. Mr. Zhou committed a crime, and his shop was confiscated and auctioned off by the government. I bought it. What, do you know Mr. Zhou, sir?"

"An old friend," Lin Feng said. "I heard Mr. Zhou had an accident, so I came to pay my respects. Does Boss Sun know where he is buried?"

"I have no idea about that," Boss Sun waved his hands repeatedly. "Mr. Zhou's matter is handled by the government. His body was taken to the mortuary and has probably been buried in a mass grave long ago. If you wish to pay your respects, sir, try looking at Shili Slope, north of the city. Perhaps you can find it there."

His words were impeccable, but Lin Feng noticed that his eyes were darting around and his fingers were unconsciously twirling his whiskers—a sign of guilt.

"Does Mr. Zhou have any relatives?"

"This..." Boss Sun paused, looking at Lin Feng suspiciously. "I heard she has a niece, but she's never been here. Why are you asking, sir?"

"I was asked to inquire about it," Lin Feng said calmly. "Since Mr. Zhou has passed away, I won't bother you any longer."

"Please take care, sir." Boss Sun cupped his hands in greeting, but a hint of ruthlessness flashed in his eyes.

Lin Feng left Wenhua Pavilion and wandered around the neighborhood. At the alley entrance, an old man selling steamed buns was squatting in a corner smoking a pipe.

Lin Feng bought two steamed buns and casually asked, "Uncle, Wenhua Pavilion seems to be doing good business."

The old man glanced at the shop and lowered his voice, "What's so good about it? It's a shop we seized by force, how good can it be? Mr. Zhou is such a good man, sigh..."

"Is Mr. Zhou really dead?"

The old man looked around, his voice lowering even further: "They say he's dead, but who's seen the body? That night, the yamen came to arrest him, and they beat him terribly. Later they said he succumbed to his injuries, but the next day someone saw Sun, the skinner, taking over the shop. If you ask me, Mr. Zhou might..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but the meaning was clear.

Lin Feng thanked the old man and returned to the inn. He told Su Wanyue and Bai Xiaohe what he had found out.

Bai Xiaohe's face was pale, and tears welled up in her eyes: "Uncle... Uncle really..."

"Not necessarily," Lin Feng said.

"There's a flaw in what Boss Sun said. He said Mr. Zhou succumbed to his injuries and his body was taken to the mortuary. But if he really died, the government should have a record of it, and the mortuary should have a record of it. I'll go to the government office and the mortuary to check tomorrow."

"Husband, will Boss Sun harm you?" Su Wanyue asked worriedly.

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

That night, Lin Feng changed into his night clothes and quietly left the inn.

He first went to the government office, climbed over the wall, and found the criminal records.

By the moonlight, I quickly flipped through the files and found Zhou Wenyuan's case file. The records were complete, but the handwriting was too neat, as if it had been added later. Moreover, the statement "died despite treatment" was too vague.

Lin Feng went to Huimin Pharmacy again. There was only one old doctor on duty at the pharmacy at night, who was dozing off.

Lin Feng sneaked into the archives and found the record for February 22nd—there was no record of Zhou Wenyuan's treatment at all!

There was indeed a problem.

He eventually went to the mortuary. The caretaker was a lame old man, who was quite drunk. Lin Feng gave him a piece of silver, and the old man immediately sobered up.

"Was a body of someone named Zhou Wenyuan brought in on February 22nd?"

The old man thought for a moment and shook his head: "No. Three people were brought over in those few days. One was a beggar who starved to death, and the other two were elderly people who died of illness. I remember them all."

"Sure?"

"Confirmed! The mortuary's account books are right here!" The old man pulled out a tattered book. Lin Feng glanced at it and, sure enough, Zhou Wenyuan's name wasn't there.

If Zhou Wenyuan isn't dead, then where is he?

Lin Feng suddenly remembered what the two men in the teahouse had said: "An old servant was dissatisfied and went to the yamen to file a complaint, but his leg was broken." He asked the old man, "Do you know where Mr. Zhou's old servant is?"

The old man sighed, "You mean Old Chen? Poor thing, his leg is broken, he has no money for treatment, and he's lying in that dilapidated house behind the City God Temple now. I'm afraid he won't live for more than a few days."

Lin Feng then slipped another piece of silver to the old man: "Thank you."

The City God Temple is located in the west of the city and is in a dilapidated state. Behind the temple are several crooked mud-brick houses, with a faint light shining from the innermost one.

Lin Feng pushed open the door and went in. The room smelled strange, a mixture of musty and medicinal odors. An old man with gray hair and a thin frame lay on a straw mat, his left leg haphazardly wrapped in rags, already festering and oozing pus.

"Who?" the old man asked weakly.

"Sir, I am a friend of Mr. Zhou Wenyuan, and I have come to inquire about his whereabouts."

The old man suddenly opened his eyes wide and struggled to sit up: "You...you're Mr. Zhou's friend? Is Mr. Zhou...is he still alive?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking you."

The old man, tears streaming down his face, said, "That night, more than a dozen people from the yamen came and said that Mr. Zhou was hiding forbidden books. They confiscated his shop. Mr. Zhou protested and argued a few words, but they pinned him to the ground and beat him... He broke two of his ribs and vomited blood. Later, he was dragged away and we never heard from him again."

"When did Boss Sun take over the shop?"

"They came the very next day! They brought a bunch of thugs and drove us all out. I protested, went to the yamen to complain, and they broke my leg..." the old man cried. "My old life is worthless, but Mr. Zhou is such a good person! How could he possibly keep forbidden books? Those books were all proper classics and poems!"

"Does Mr. Zhou have any enemies?"

"No! Mr. Zhou is kind and generous, and never makes enemies. Unless..." The old man suddenly remembered something, "Unless it's because of that matter..."

"What is it?"

The old man hesitated for a moment, then lowered his voice: "About half a year ago, a young man who looked like a scholar came to the shop and said he wanted to buy a few rare books from the previous dynasty. Mr. Zhou said he didn't have any, and the man left. But later, when I was cleaning out the storeroom, I found a bundle in the corner. Inside were several books, and there were some notes tucked between the pages with some words I couldn't understand written on them..."

"Where's the note?"

"I was terrified and hid the bundle. Later, when Mr. Zhou came back, I told him. He looked at the notes, his face changed drastically, and he said these were things that could cost me my head, and told me not to tell anyone. The next day, the books and notes disappeared. Mr. Zhou said they had been disposed of. But not long after, the authorities came..."

Lin Feng understood. Those notes were probably secret letters. Zhou Wenyuan had been framed.

"Old man, please take good care of your injury." Lin Feng took out a few taels of silver and placed them beside the old man. "Take this money to treat your leg. I will investigate Mr. Zhou's matter thoroughly."

"Thank you so much, benefactor! Thank you so much, benefactor!" the old man kowtowed repeatedly.

Lin Feng left the City God Temple, already having made his plans. If Zhou Wenyuan wasn't dead, he was likely being held in some secret place. Boss Sun's seizure of the shop was probably not just for money, but also to silence him.

When he returned to the inn, it was already dawn. Just as he was about to climb over the wall into the courtyard, he suddenly heard very faint footsteps coming from the backyard of the inn.

It wasn't just one person.

Lin Feng, crouching on the wall, watched as five dark figures vaulted over from the outside, landing silently and swiftly. They headed straight for the second floor—Bai Xiaohe's room!

They arrived as expected.

Just as Lin Feng was about to make a move, a very faint groan came from Bai Xiaohe's room, followed by the sound of a heavy object falling to the ground.

He lay hidden in the shadows, listening intently.

From inside the room came Bai Xiaohe's cool voice:

"Useless trash. You think you can touch me?"

Then came a few suppressed screams, followed by silence.