Transmigrated into a minor official in a county government, with children at home waiting for rice t

Old Ninth Brother bent down and picked up the long bamboo pole from the base of the wall. He reached into the cesspool and probed downwards until the hook caught. He took a deep breath, strained his arm, clenched his teeth, and the veins on his forehead began to bulge.

He bent the bamboo pole and slowly lifted it up. The water surface churned, and a layer of dark brown foam was stirred up, revealing a section of grayish-white arm.

Someone in the crowd gasped, and the buzzing sound suddenly rose and then fell back down, as if someone had grabbed their neck.

Old Jiu's eyelids twitched. He glanced at Xu Fang and saw that Xu Fang's eyes were bigger than his own. He had no choice but to grit his teeth, drag him to the edge of the cesspool, switch the position of his hands, lift the bamboo pole up, and pull up a wet human figure.

It really was a corpse!

It was easy to fish them out of the pond, but it took strength to drag them ashore. Old Jiu quickly called his apprentice for help; one of them lifted the hook upwards, while the other pulled them out from the water.

The corpse rolled over the edge and landed with a thud on the muddy ground beside the cesspool. Water seeped out from the fabric, and a stench suddenly exploded, more than twice as strong as before, spreading in all directions with the midday heat.

Someone in the crowd gagged, covered their mouth, and took two steps back. Several other people pushed forward, craning their necks to look at the corpse.

The archers had to start shouting again: "Back up! Back up! Don't push!"

He held the short stick horizontally in front of him, pushing the crowd out a few inches.

Zhang Sanlang stood outside the rope circle, gazing at the corpse from afar. Waves of a complex stench washed over him, and he instinctively covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve.

Indeed, professional tasks should be handled by professionals.

He felt that he was only suited to sit in the signing room. He thought that seeing this scene at the crime scene once was enough, and he would never come here again unless absolutely necessary!

He turned to look at Fang Zhong'an, who was no better off than him. Fang was standing two steps behind him, one hand covering his mouth and the other hand trembling as he held the paper.

Zhang Sanlang withdrew his gaze, his eyes darting around, and gestured towards Fang Zhong'an with his lip. "Fang Tiesi, do you know what kind of place is next to this cesspool?"

Fang Zhong'an was taken aback at first, but then he realized that Zhang Sanlang wanted to take the opportunity to leave the scene of the crime. He put on a smile and said, "Reporting to Zhang Yashi, that is Yongning Nunnery! The things in this cesspool mostly came from the nuns and pilgrims in the nunnery."

"This is the cleanest manure that vegetable and flower growers are scrambling to get! Unlike ordinary manure, it's not oily and doesn't burn roots, so it sells for three times more..."

Zhang Sanlang was truly surprised that Fang Zhong'an even knew about this kind of news. He quickly waved his hand to interrupt him, "Alright, come with me to take a walk outside the temple and see if there's anyone nearby we can ask for anything."

He turned and walked towards Yongning Temple.

Fang Zhong'an quickly jogged to catch up.

The walls of Yongning Temple were grayish-white in the sunlight, with a strip of moss growing at the base. A row of holly bushes grew against the wall, their leaves wilted from the sun.

The temple gate was half-closed, and a sliver of shadow peeked through the crack, obscuring what lay inside.

Zhang Sanlang walked to the side and turned his head, his gaze falling on the open space between the gable wall and the cesspool. The corpse was still lying next to the cesspool, and the onlookers had dispersed somewhat.

He turned to Fang Zhong'an, "Has anyone reported missing recently?"

Fang Zhong'an thought for a moment and shook his head: "No. I've gone through all the case files in the criminal investigation department recently. There was an old woman who got lost for half a day last month, but she was found at the entrance of the City God Temple. She said she was just lost and it wasn't considered missing."

Zhang Sanlang hummed in agreement.

The Yongning Nunnery is inhabited entirely by nuns, and the occasional pilgrims who visit are also women. The county government cannot arbitrarily question them, much less send people to search the nunnery.

Zhang Sanlang turned around and walked south along the temple wall for more than ten steps, stopping at the corner of the wall.

There was a small open space at the base of the wall, with a few bluestone slabs laid unevenly. Weeds grew in the cracks between the slabs, and a few of them had been trampled down, with fresh green showing at the crevices.

He squatted down and looked at the several blurry marks on the stone slab, which looked like the marks left by shoes with mud and water on them. The marks came from the cesspool, went towards the temple wall, and then turned back.

Zhang Sanlang straightened up. "Who's responsible for carrying the chamber pots in this nunnery?"

Fang Zhong'an was taken aback: "A hygienic bucket?"

Zhang Sanlang pointed towards the latrine, "The filth of the nuns and worshippers in the nunnery has to be disposed of by someone. You just said that most of the stuff in the latrine comes from the nunnery, so there are people specifically responsible for carrying it away."

"This person goes in and out of the temple every day, so he probably knows who's inside. We can't easily enter the temple, and we can't conduct routine searches, so we can only start from the outside."

Fang Zhong'an's eyes darted around, and his expression slowly brightened. "Zhang Yashi means... I'll go find someone to inquire right away. You can stay here and soak up the sun... uh, wait a moment, I'll be going now!"

In Zhang Sanlang's utterly bewildered eyes, Fang Zhong'an swaggered away, his sleeves fluttering.

Zhang Sanlang walked along the temple wall to the east side of the gable wall, where there was a small door, half the width of the main gate, with old wooden panels. Next to the door frame was a palm-sized wooden sign, from which the outline of the four characters "Clean Bucket Entry and Exit" could be vaguely discerned.

Before long, Fang Zhong'an ran back. Seeing Zhang Sanlang staring blankly at the small door, he raised his chin and said, "Zhang Yashi, this door is the side door of Yongning Nunnery, usually used by the servants who carry the chamber pots."

"The main gate is managed by the nunnery, and the key is in the hands of the nun in charge. Further ahead is the back gate, and the alley outside connects to the back street, which is rarely used. The work of cleaning the latrine at Yongning Nunnery has always been done by Old Man Jiu and his apprentice."

"But he only shovels the night soil; someone else carries the latrine buckets. I asked around, and he's an old man in his fifties. Everyone calls him Han the Mute. Actually, he's not mute; he just doesn't talk much. The neighbors are used to calling him Han the Mute."

"He comes twice a day, morning and evening, but he can't enter the nunnery. He just stands outside the side gate, carrying the buckets of clean water he takes out from inside to the latrine to empty them..."

Taking advantage of his moment of respite, Zhang Sanlang quickly asked, "Did you ask Han the Mute where his home is?"

Fang Zhong'an nodded: "I asked. He lives in Willow Lane on the back street, not far from here, the third house at the entrance of the lane. He has no children and lives alone."

Zhang Sanlang nodded in satisfaction: "Send someone to his house and ask him to come over. Don't mention the latrine, just say the county government wants to question him."

"Hey, hey, I'll go myself, I'll go myself!" Fang Zhong'an had barely caught his breath when he hurriedly went to find Han the Mute.

Zhang Sanlang didn't wait where he was. He walked back along the base of the wall. The corpse was now covered with an old burlap sack, and he dared to approach it.

Lu Qiucheng was squatting at the edge of the cesspool, using a bamboo pole to probe the bottom, as if he were scooping up something small. His movements were extremely light and slow. Zhang Sanlang didn't go over to disturb him; he just stood outside the rope circle, his gaze sweeping aimlessly around.

Before long, Fang Zhong'an led an old man closer. The man was in his early fifties, not very tall, with a slightly hunched back, and was wearing a faded gray cloth short brown shirt with the cuffs and trouser legs tied up.

He stopped at the edge of the rope circle, his gaze first falling on the corpse covered with burlap by the latrine, and the wrinkles on his face twitched.