Shi Ting nodded. “Exactly. If you hadn’t had someone send Qiao Dahu’s remains to the Military Police, both the true cause of death and the drug in his body would have been buried without a trace, known to no one.”

Xie Yan tossed the crumpled document onto the low table. His deep eyes gave nothing away, and there was no telling what he was thinking.

“Do you remember the spy Xi Nan planted in Bei Di?” Shi Ting asked.

“Qin Peipei?”

Qin Peipei was a star dancer of the moment, famous throughout Shun Cheng — Xie Yan was well aware of her, and the affair of Qin Peipei’s attempt to stir up conflict between Bei Di and the Di Kingdom by targeting Hui Village had once caused quite the stir. The Military Police had ultimately resolved that incident.

“Qin Peipei belonged to a Xi Nan spy ring operating within Bei Di. The total number of members in this ring is currently unknown, but one thing is certain: they are meticulous in their planning, strict in their discipline, and every single one of them is a committed operative willing to die for the cause.” Shi Ting drank his red wine. “Their method of communication is the eagle — trained birds that respond to a specific whistle call. When we followed the captured eagle back to the ring’s base of operations, we found the place completely abandoned. The members of that ring have remained hidden in the shadows to this day.”

Spy rings like this existed everywhere. Bei Di also had operatives planted in Xi Nan, Jiang Nan, and other regions — all for the purpose of monitoring the movements and plans of rival powers at all times.

“These spies are predominantly female, with men in a supporting role. They use every means available to get close to local officials, then gather intelligence and relay information.” Shi Ting set down his glass and looked at Xie Yan. “The hallucinogenic agent found on Qiao Dahu belongs to the Xi Nan government. There is no legitimate means by which an ordinary person could obtain it. Therefore, whoever possesses this drug must have significant ties to Xi Nan.”

Xie Yan stared at the document, still saying nothing.

“Could this have anything to do with that woman you’ve been taken with recently?”

Xie Yan finally looked up. “How do you know who I’ve been paying attention to lately?”

“The shop assistant mentioned you used to visit the alleyway quite often.”

The young man in question stuck out his tongue and quickly retreated into the back storeroom.

“You used to go watch the cats sometimes, but it wasn’t that frequent. During that stretch you were going very regularly — I assumed you’d come across someone who caught your interest. Besides, you’ve been unusually well-behaved lately. Word is you’ve stopped frequenting the entertainment district entirely. Either something is wrong with you physically, or you’re keeping yourself in check for someone’s sake.”

“You’re well-informed, Director Shi.” Xie Yan gave a dry laugh and said nothing more.

Shi Ting drained the last of the red wine from his glass and tilted it toward him. “This wine is smooth on the tongue but fierce in the gut. It goes down tasting of pleasure, and only once it hits the stomach do you feel the afterburn.”

He stood and looked across at his old friend. “Take care of yourself.”

After Shi Ting left, Xie Yan held the same position without moving, until the shop assistant cautiously called out “Mr. Xie.” Only then did he shift his gaze.

“Tell Old Liu to go check — see if the Ghost Hand has returned.”

After the assistant left, the room held only him. In the dim light, everything before him seemed to take on an unreal quality.

By the time the assistant came back, Xie Yan was already gone.

He made his way to that run-down alleyway. At the sound of his footsteps, several stray cats lifted their heads from the corners and from behind the rubbish bins.

Beside one of the bins, he spotted an iron basin. A little food was still left in it, looking fresh — it could not have been set out long ago.

He knew this basin was Shen Ruoxi’s. Every day before she left for work, she would come to the alleyway to feed these strays.

A small entirely black cat was crouched in the corner, watching him. He remembered she had named it Little Black the Second.

He looked at Little Black. Little Black looked back at him. After they had regarded each other for a while, Little Black, in its utterly aloof manner, turned and walked away.

He thought back to the first time he had seen her in this alley — she had been blending in among the stray cats like a street waif herself. When she raised her head, her eyes had been as clear as spring water.

While Xie Yan stood there, lost in thought as he watched the cats, a shadow suddenly appeared on the wall behind him. He looked at the shadow without alarm. When a voice spoke, he recognized it at once.

“Mr. Xie.”

The Ghost Hand lived up to his name — appearing and vanishing like a specter.

Xie Yan had earlier sent the Ghost Hand to look into Shen Ruoxi, but the Ghost Hand had been occupied with another assignment. After completing that task, he had gone straight to carry out Xie Yan’s new order.

“Go ahead.” Xie Yan pulled a small pouch of dried fish from his pocket and tossed it to the stray cats in front of him.

The strays caught the scent of fish and came surging in from all directions.

~

Shen Ruoxi held the medicine a servant had brought — the family remedy Dai Jing had spoken of, passed down through generations for treating bruises and sprains. Supervisor Cai said Dai Jing had sent it over yesterday, but Shen Ruoxi had been on leave.

Today she came back to work, and Dai Jing had the servant bring it again. The man had clearly been keeping her injured arm in mind all along.

“Where is Mr. Dai?” Shen Ruoxi asked the servant.

If Dai Jing wanted to bring the medicine, he would normally come himself. That he had sent a servant both times suggested he might be caught up in something.

The servant answered honestly: “Mr. Dai is unwell.”

“Unwell?”

“Mr. Dai fell ill yesterday.”

“What is it? Is it serious?”

“Mr. Dai has a stomach ailment. If he eats or rests at irregular hours, it flares up. The hospital hasn’t been able to cure it — they can only prescribe painkillers, and those have been taken so often for so long that they barely work anymore. When the pain strikes, it’s half a life gone.” The servant spoke of Dai Jing’s illness with a face full of worry. “Mr. Dai has been able to keep down only a little rice porridge since yesterday. I heard that by evening he brought it back up again, and the towels he used to wipe the cold sweat were soaked through.”

Shen Ruoxi looked at the small dark green bottle in her hand. Even suffering like this, Dai Jing had still remembered to send her the medicine for her injury. Now that he was the one who was ill, she could not just stand by and do nothing.

“Where is Mr. Dai now?”

“At the mansion.”

Shen Ruoxi told Supervisor Cai where she was going and left with the servant. She had no way of curing Dai Jing’s stomach ailment, but she might be able to offer some temporary relief.

Shen Ruoxi left in such a hurry that she did not notice a familiar car parked just outside the dance hall entrance. The person inside that car watched her get into another vehicle, then vanish swiftly into the night.

The night was dark and still as deep water. In a tree, a crow called out in a mournful, drawn cry.

Shen Ruoxi arrived at the Dai Mansion to find the entire compound swathed in darkness — not a single light was on.

The servant explained: “When Mr. Dai is unwell, he prefers absolute quiet. So the household doesn’t move around freely, and since it’s late, everyone has likely retired.”

“Is there no one to look after him?”

“Nanny Liu is attending to Mr. Dai.”

The two of them entered the mansion, and the servant led Shen Ruoxi up to the second floor. In the corridor, she saw Nanny Liu.

Nanny Liu was seated on the carpeted floor of the hallway, her head resting against the wall, dozing lightly. She had not let herself fall into a deep sleep for fear that Dai Jing might suddenly call for her — so when she heard footsteps, she opened her eyes at once.