Yeats glanced at the squire of the Punishment Department, and then at Jia Bichen, "Because that person is masked, she doesn't know who that person is?" ”

"Then don't you check it?" The waiter of the Criminal Department snorted coldly, "I didn't expect Dali Temple to handle the case like this." ”

Master Fan looked at the angry waiter of the Criminal Department and smiled slightly, "The case is not over yet, since it will be investigated." ”

"Lord Fan, Dali Temple is the most sacred place for the laws of the Great Wei Dynasty, don't let some young people fool around, it's not a ......" Pei Jingning turned his eyes slowly, his eyes were indifferent, but it made the waiter of the Criminal Department pause.

There was silence.

It's instantly suffocating.

As the presiding judge, Lu Sicheng broke the unsettling aura, "Jia Shi, Jia Bichen, do you have any objections to the investigation of Dali Temple?" Tang Jibo held the interrogation record in front of Jia's mother and son and asked them to draw a detainment.

Without the slightest hesitation, Jia Shi smeared the oil painting and charged it.

Jia Bichen hesitated and refused to draw, "Mother...... Mother, I don't want to die...... I ......"

Jia Shi snorted coldly, "Who else do you expect to save you?" ”

Jia Bichen looked at Yu Qingzhi, and he bowed to the presiding judge, "Jia Bichen is guilty of whatever crime he should be, and Tianxianglou will never cover it." ”

Listening to the voice, Master Yu is not the masked man in black, Jia Bijin is desperate, the man said that if something happens, he will definitely save her, but ...... It wasn't until this moment that she seemed to understand that their mother and son were being used, and they didn't even know who they were.

Jia Bijin collapsed to the ground.

Yeats sneered, wicked people have their own wicked demons, but Yang Die'er is so innocent and miserable.

Jia's not only this case, but also the case fifteen years ago were sentenced together, and they were sentenced to be executed, and Jia Bichen was assigned to Lingnan as an accomplice and was never allowed to leave Lingnan.

Tianxianglou, as an entertainment venue, did not guarantee the personal safety of the deceased, and was fined 10,000 taels of silver, compared to a human life, this bit of silver is nothing to the rich King of Han!

Yeats grabbed the sensitive word, "Lord Zhao, what did you just say about King Han?" ”

Zhao Bai also realized that he had slipped his mouth, "You know, King Han is the treasure of the Queen Mother, and there must be more people in the feudal clan than other clans, of course he is rich." ”

He must know something, Yeats smiled slightly, no longer asked, looked up at the sky, and failed to catch the murderer who mended the knife and finally caused Yang Die'er's death, she was sorry.

It's not that she deliberately let it go, but the murderer is really cunning, and she didn't find it.

"Isn't it surnamed Yu?" Teng Chong suspected that it was this guy.

Yeats shook his head, "It's not him." ”

"Who's that?"

Yeats still looked up at the sky.

March is coming, and spring is blooming. She wasn't in a good mood.

"Do you remember last year's restaurant case?"

"It's a case of a prostitute hired to commit a murder, at that time we only found the little two who sneaked into the restaurant, and at that time you deduced that there was another murderer, but the prostitute refused to tell who the other person was until he died?"

Yeats nodded.

"Do you suspect that he is the murderer who stabbed Yang Die'er for the third time?"

Yeats nodded again, "This is a person who is good at taking advantage of other people's privacy and inquiring about other people's old hatreds and hatreds to make money." ”

"Who could that be?" Hunting for murderers and bandits is like a common thing for a head catcher, but if a murderer can't be found, it's as if something has not been done and keeps hanging to make him uncomfortable.

"I don't know." In both cases, Yeats failed to write a criminal profile, and the opponent was not ordinary.

Yang Fuquan saw that everyone was silent, and muttered in a low voice: "Then what if he commits another crime?" ”

"Then arrest him and sentence him to death." Teng Chong scolded angrily.

The case of Tianxianglou is over, and everyone's mood is not very good.

Yeats retracted his gaze: "Let's go, I'll invite everyone to drink." "Get drunk and forget about these worries.

Seeing that everyone was really hungry at noon, they looked for a wine shop that suited their taste and went to eat.

In the spring of March, all things recover, the willows are green and the flowers are red, the warblers are singing and dancing, and the earth is a vibrant scene.

Yeats went to the tavern they frequented, and met a monk at the door, the owner of the small restaurant who was in a small business, and was not happy to give these monks a relationship, and was chasing him.

"Go, why are you here again, no one invited ......you today" The boss raised his head, "Hey, Lord Ye, Teng Zhutou, you are here......" The little boss's face immediately turned cloudy, and he immediately greeted him with a smile, "Everyone, please-"

Yeats looked at the handsome monk.

The handsome monk held the bowl in one hand and closed it in the other, "It's really fate, donor, let's meet again." ”

The gray-robed monk has a dignified demeanor, a handsome face, a straight standing posture, a gentle temperament, and a bright and bright jade, like a master in the world.

Yeats asked with a smile: "The master is a senior monk of Mingguang Temple on the outskirts of Beijing?" ”

"Amitabha, the donor praised it falsely, but he is just an ordinary monk."

Unusual?

It's so unusual.

Yeats smiled again and looked up, "Boss, give the master a bowl of vegetarian food, count it in my account." ”

"Okay." Someone asked, of course the owner of the restaurant was happy to give him a fate, and immediately asked Xiao Er to scoop up the white porridge and take the white steamed buns over, "Give." ”

The handsome monk thanked him and left.

Yeats stared at his back, and suddenly said, "Dare to ask the master's name is—"

The handsome monk stopped, turned around and saluted and replied, "The poor monk's law is pure." ”

"Oh, Master Jono." Yeats learned from him to make a joint salute.

Jing Wu smiled slightly, turned around with the bowl, and left.

The spring breeze in March blew his gray robe, and he couldn't tell whether it was fairy fluttering or mundane, he couldn't understand it, and Yeats didn't get entangled, so he beckoned everyone to come in and eat and drink to comfort his internal organs.

The monk who had walked out of the half-mile land stopped and turned his head to look at the tavern.

A woman dressed as a man walked across the capital with a plain and sunny little face, and her face was as beautiful as a hibiscus out of the water, and in the crowd, she could always stand out effortlessly and amaze everyone.

He smiled and turned away.

Because they had to go back to Dali Temple in the afternoon, the Ye small group didn't dare to drink more, and came out to go back to Dali Temple after eating.

The market is bustling with pedestrians.

Due to professional reasons, Yeats and his colleagues had turned a blind eye to the bustle of the capital and had no intention of staying, so they hurried to Dali Temple, but were blocked by a crowded crowd on the way.

"What's going on?" Teng Chong asked as he pushed through the crowd.

A passer-by replied, "A husband and wife bought cloth in the silk village, because the shopkeeper sold them the fabric with holes that the rats had gnawed, and they came to reason with the shopkeeper that the husband was angry to death, and now the woman is asking the shopkeeper to pay for the burial of the man." ”

"Angry?"

Teng Chong quickly pushed through the crowd, Yeats and the others followed to the front of the silk village, where a middle-aged man was lying on the ground, with a pale face and black lips.

Yeats crouched down, put his fingers on the tip of his nose, and there was not a trace of breath, and he was indeed dead. (End of chapter)