Heyue City had stood for over a hundred years, yet never had it seen a day as lively as this one. That morning, the magistrate’s court had heard a major case of murder for financial gain — though it ultimately concluded with a ruling of false accusation, the dramatic twists and turns of the proceedings alone were enough to keep the entire city’s residents talking for months. But before anyone could catch their breath, barely past noon, the Precious Treasures Pavilion in Sanhe Ward had posted a notice whose contents sent shockwaves through the whole city. Word spread from person to person like wildfire, and within half an hour, nearly half the city’s population had come running to queue outside the Precious Treasures Pavilion.

What? You’re asking what the queue was for?

Good heavens, did you not see the Precious Treasures Pavilion’s notice?

Hua Family’s Fourth Young Master — renowned throughout the Tang Kingdom — was offering ten times the market price to purchase every pearl ornament in the city. Earrings, hairpins, gold step-shakers, bracelets, rings — if it had a pearl, he wanted it!

What? You’re asking whether Hua Family’s Fourth Young Master had lost his mind?

Heh, you only know half the story. Hua Family’s Fourth Young Master hails from the illustrious Hua Clan of Yangdu — one of the five great surnames and seven noble houses, the highest echelons of the scholarly aristocracy. Their clan motto is eight characters: “march to your own drum, idle and flush with coin.” And none embodied this more than their Fourth Young Master himself — he was none other than the most notorious profligate in all of Yangdu, celebrated across the land. Whatever outrageous thing he did came as no surprise to anyone. Besides, this time there was a perfectly good reason behind it — a proper matter, at that.

What? You want to know what the proper matter is?

Heh heh heh, why, to win a smile from a beauty, of course!

What? You’re asking which beauty?

Oh my, you don’t know?

Do you see the young woman standing beside Hua Family’s Fourth Young Master? Bold and dashing, exuding a ferocious aura, one glare from her and she looks like a demon possessed — enough to make your heart seize and every hair on your body stand on end.

That is the legendary Lin Sui’an, said to be capable of taking on a hundred men single-handedly.

Ah? You say Hua Family’s Fourth Young Master has poor taste?

Away with you — what do you know!

That young woman is no ordinary person. Her bladework is fierce and her martial arts formidable. She made her name in a single battle in Yangdu — rumor has it she stared the incompetent Yangdu Prefect Zhou Changping to death with a single look.

A person like that is the only one worthy of the “one-of-a-kind” Hua Family’s Fourth Young Master!

Hey now, I won’t keep chatting — I’ve still got a pearl earring at home, I’d better go queue up!

“The above is the rumor currently circulating about Hua Family’s Fourth Young Master lavishing a fortune upon his beloved.” Jin Ruo said with gleeful schadenfreude, “Fresh off the press — still warm.”

Lin Sui’an pressed her fingers against the throbbing vein at her temple. “What — in — the — world — is — this?!”

“Don’t blame me,” Jin Ruo raised his hands in a show of innocence, “Hua Yitang told me to spread it exactly like this. He even said that only a reason like this would be fitting for his identity as Yangdu’s foremost profligate.”

Lin Sui’an ground her teeth, clenched her fists, released them, then clenched again — her knuckles cracking one after another. She silently recited her fourteen-character mantra for suppressing rage: Do not measure yourself against fools; do not compete with idiots for the moral high ground!

For the sake of solving the case, she could endure this. Endure, endure, endure… she could not endure!

She hoisted Qian Jing and swept toward the Precious Treasures Pavilion like a dark gale, with Jin Ruo scurrying along behind her, laughing as if he relished the chaos. The tea stall where they had been resting was just across the street from the Precious Treasures Pavilion — only a few steps away — yet Lin Sui’an managed to work up a full head of sweat traversing the distance. The queuing townspeople parted in a perfectly synchronized formation, staring with wide unblinking eyes that flashed like camera flashbulbs from the modern era, the brightness giving Lin Sui’an a pounding headache.

A massive sunshade awning had been erected in front of the Precious Treasures Pavilion, stretching far enough to cover half the street. Three layers of sheer gauze curtains hung on all four sides, billowing in the breeze like clouds and mist — dreamlike and ethereal. Beneath the awning sat a folding couch resembling a chaise lounge, and on it Hua Yitang reclined at a languid angle, leaning against a soft cushion with his feet propped up, cheek resting on one hand, eyes half-lidded, fanning himself and taking his leisure with tea and fresh fruit. His posture was as affected as it could possibly be, his bearing as profligate as one could imagine, and his peerlessly handsome features drew the gaze of every single person present.

To the front-left of the sunshade awning stood a table and desk, behind which Yita and Mu Xia sat in proper upright postures. The Precious Treasures Pavilion’s two head stewards were flanked to either side: Steward Li had a large chest in front of him and was responsible for receiving the ornaments; behind Steward Zhang stood several large chests stuffed full of copper coins, and he was responsible for making payments. Xiao Yan and the Precious Treasures Pavilion’s shop assistants formed an inner ring, while six constables sent by Magistrate Xu to keep order formed an outer ring — all were standing at the ready, braced for action.

The queuing townsfolk would first hand their pearl ornaments to Yita, who would appraise the value of each piece. Mu Xia would calculate the tenfold price, Steward Li would receive the ornament, Steward Zhang would pay out the coins — goods and payment exchanged simultaneously, no refunds once you stepped away from the counter. In practice, nobody wanted a refund.

Hua Yitang had been right: Yita’s eye was both sharp and ruthless. He could accurately name the price of an ornament at a single glance, never off by half a copper coin. Add to that the tenfold price multiplier, and nearly every person who heard the figure came away beside themselves with delight — they took the money and ran, terrified the Precious Treasures Pavilion might change its mind.

By contrast, the expressions on Steward Li’s and Steward Zhang’s faces were rather grim. Even though they were spending Hua Yitang’s money, it was still passing through their hands, and it felt exactly as though flesh were being carved from their own bodies.

Lin Sui’an arrived beneath the sunshade awning amid a volley of burning stares. Hua Yitang immediately sat upright, swept the edge of the folding couch with his fan, and struck an elaborate pose of “having swept the couch in welcome.”

Lin Sui’an folded her arms across her chest. “Isn’t this going a bit too far?”

“I am Hua Family’s Fourth Young Master — it would be strange if what I did didn’t go too far,” Hua Yitang said with a smile. “The more outrageous it is, the less likely it is to arouse suspicion.”

Jin Ruo grabbed a pastry and stuffed it into his mouth. “Are you really so certain the killer will come to sell the ornament?”

“Because aside from him and Lu Shi, no one else laid eyes on that ornament. He will assume it is safe.”

“What if the killer already sold the ornament long ago?”

“All the better. The killer would never reveal the ornament’s true origins — he would certainly fabricate some clean, innocent provenance. The more the buyer believes the killer’s story, the more at ease they will be about coming to sell the ornament. As long as we find the ornament, we can trace it back to the killer.”

“What if the killer neither sold the ornament to someone else nor comes here to sell it?”

“Anyone who broke his own rules to commit murder over an ornament is consumed by greed. Faced with a tenfold premium, there is no way he could be unmoved.”

“That all sounds remarkably well-reasoned,” Jin Ruo applauded, regarding Hua Yitang with the expression one reserves for a simpleton, “But there’s one last question — none of us have ever seen that ornament! How are we supposed to identify it?”

“That’s simple,” Hua Yitang nodded, drawing a sheet of paper from his breast pocket. “I drew a diagram.”

On the paper was a hairpin — delicate and finely made, with a smooth round pearl — exactly as Hua Yitang had sketched it earlier based on Lin Sui’an’s description of what she had seen through her golden finger.

Lin Sui’an’s eyelid twitched uncontrollably. The secret she had gone to such lengths to conceal — this fellow had produced it so carelessly and openly. Was that really all right?

Jin Ruo gaped in astonishment. “It’s a hairpin?!”

Hua Yitang nodded.

“Where did you get this diagram from?!”

“Naturally, Lu Shi told me.”

Lin Sui’an: “Ahem — cough cough cough!”

Jin Ruo sucked in a sharp breath, glanced furtively around, and lowered his voice. “D-don’t tell me you can also commune with the dead and summon spirits?!”

Hua Yitang put on a grave expression and made a show of mysterious gravity. “As all the world knows, Hua Family’s Fourth Young Master of Yangdu is blessed with the face of Pan An and a mind of matchless brilliance. He reads the heavens above and fathoms the earth below; the Five Elements and Eight Trigrams, feng shui and the compass — there is nothing he does not understand, nothing he does not know. Communing with the dead and summoning spirits is but a trifling parlor trick — naturally he accomplishes it with ease.”

A moment of dead silence.

Lin Sui’an’s eyelid twitched. She watched Jin Ruo’s expression cycle from shock to confusion and finally settle into disdain. “Hey, surnamed Hua — will you die if you don’t brag?!”

Hua Yitang tapped his fan. “Ah dear, I didn’t think you’d see through it so quickly. Worthy of the Pure Gate’s Deputy Sect Master — you truly do have a heart carved from seven-faceted jade.”

Jin Ruo: “…”

“The truth is, I asked Xiao Yan and the Precious Treasures Pavilion’s steward Tian Bao. Based on their descriptions, combined with the styles of ornaments Lu Shi had made in the past, I deduced what it would look like,” Hua Yitang said quietly. “The type of ornament Lu Shi was most skilled at making was hairpins, and this particular decorative pattern was also his specialty.”

“Weren’t you afraid of drawing it wrong?” Jin Ruo asked.

Hua Yitang preened with satisfaction, waving his little fan. “I am Hua Family’s Fourth Young Master — how could I possibly draw it wrong?”

Jin Ruo’s eyes rolled so far back they nearly disappeared into his skull, his expression full of contempt and scorn — and yet he could no longer stay put. He stuffed two more mouthfuls of pastry into his mouth, ran over to stand beside Mu Xia and help him keep watch, looking for all the world as though he’d been hoodwinked into believing.

Lin Sui’an stared at Hua Yitang, dazed.

“From now on, whatever your eyes happen to see — anything that’s inconvenient to explain — push it all onto me.” Hua Yitang leaned close, his voice low and unhurried. “Spouting nonsense, boasting, and weaving fabrications are the signature skills of us profligates.”

As he said this, his face was barely two inches from Lin Sui’an’s ear. The floral and fruity fragrance of his incense seemed to take on a tangible form, sweet and tart as it seeped into every corner of her chest.

Lin Sui’an’s breath tightened without warning.

Hua Yitang retreated half a step as though nothing had happened, turning his gaze toward the crowd. Were it not for the faint flush creeping up his earlobes, one would have thought him perfectly composed. Suddenly, he let out a soft sound of surprise.

Lin Sui’an followed his gaze. At a distance of roughly one zhang from the Precious Treasures Pavilion, a commotion had broken out — it seemed someone was causing trouble.

Hua Yitang snapped his fan shut with a crack. “How dare someone make trouble on my Hua Clan’s turf — just watch me beat them until they’re scrabbling across the floor looking for their teeth—”

“You stay put. I’ll go take a look.” Lin Sui’an gripped Qian Jing and strode over quickly. It turned out that two young women in the queue had been surrounded by three ruffians, who were jeering and catcalling at them.

The two women wore gauze veils. The one in front wore a pomegranate-red skirt and a bright yellow sash, her figure slender and graceful, her bearing elegant and enchanting. The one behind her was tall, in a blue skirt with a green sash, and appeared to have been frightened — she had shrunk behind the red-skirted woman and did not dare make a sound.

The ruffians’ attire was even more distinctive. They had their shirts on only halfway, exposing half a shoulder — deep into autumn, and they weren’t afraid of freezing. The leader in particular had rolls of fat that quivered with every word he spoke. His arm bore what was presumably a tattoo, but whether the dye had run out or faded, only a few sections of blackened curved lines remained — at first glance, they looked like a nest of earthworms.

The ruffians surrounded the two women with leering grins:

“Well, well — isn’t this You Jiuniang from the Four Songs establishment in Wuhe Ward? What’s the matter? Serving the high and mighty officials isn’t enough for you — now you’ve come to try your luck with the Hua Clan’s sweets?”

“The courtesans from Four Songs usually keep themselves hidden away all mysterious-like. Now that we finally get a look — those waists really are as slender as willow branches. I can tell you, it’s making this old man of mine itch something terrible!”

“You Jiuniang, you’ve been standing in the sun for half the day now — aren’t you tired? Why not come rest in my arms for a while? I guarantee I’ll give the lady such a thorough and comfortable time.”

The surrounding townspeople seethed with anger but dared not speak. Evidently these ruffians were veteran troublemakers in the city. But the red-skirted courtesan was quite fierce — she yanked up her veil and scolded them in a sweet yet furious voice: “Get lost! Today is my day off — I’m not serving anyone!”

Beneath the veil was a face like a crimson peach, tender and strikingly beautiful. The face looked familiar to Lin Sui’an. She thought for a moment — goodness me, a familiar face! It was the coyly charming young woman she had encountered at the Ji Family clinic, the one who had given her a flower token.

The moment You Jiuniang showed her face, the ruffians grew even more agitated. The earthworm tattoo ruffian practically drooled, sidling up to her shamelessly. “I’ll do all the work — you just lie there, no effort required!”

The ruffians’ underlings cheered loudly, and You Jiuniang rolled her eyes with stunning elegance, casting a glance at the tattooed ruffian’s lower half. With withering contempt she said, “Someone like you — I doubt I’d feel anything even after you were done.”

“Pfft!” — someone in the crowd spat — and immediately a wave of muffled laughter rippled through the onlookers.

The tattooed ruffian flushed crimson with humiliated fury. “Brothers, grab these two and haul them away — I intend to have a very thorough good time today!”

The two underlings hesitated. “This — this doesn’t seem right.”

“These are Four Songs courtesans — their fees are outrageous!”

“We couldn’t afford even one of them, let alone two!”

The laughter around them swelled even louder.

The tattooed ruffian sputtered: “Pay — pay what money?! I’ve never paid a woman in my life!”

The underlings spoke earnestly:

“Big Brother still wants us to go collect a debt — don’t get distracted from the real business!”

“Grabbing a respectable woman off the street carries the death penalty by flogging!”

“Respectable? They’re courtesans! Do you know what a courtesan is? Women who sleep with a thousand men and accompany ten thousand—”

“Smack!” A resounding slap sent the tattooed ruffian stumbling sideways. You Jiuniang’s beautiful eyes blazed with fury as she smiled coldly. “Even if I slept with ten thousand men, it would never be your turn! Other men at least have a few ounces of something to offer between their legs — what about you? Can you even scrape together one ounce if you count the fat on your belly and the mush in your skull?”

A roar of laughter exploded up and down the entire street.

The earthworm ruffian’s face cycled through green and red, the veins on his forehead bulging, and without another word he swung a fist straight at You Jiuniang’s face. The underlings shrieked “You’ll have to pay if you injure her!” The watching townspeople cried out in alarm, watching helplessly as that hammer of a fist plunged down — “thud” — a sound, then the fist was caught. Caught with effortless ease, as though someone had simply picked up a lump of dough.

Dead silence fell.

Every pair of eyes stared agape at the person who had stepped in front of You Jiuniang. It was a young woman in fitted martial attire, with long elegant brows and phoenix eyes. The ease with which she gripped the tattooed ruffian’s fist made it look as though she held a ball of dough — whereas the tattooed ruffian had gone iron-grey in the face, his legs shaking so badly they could have been used for sieving, clearly unable to withstand even a fraction of this young woman’s strength.

“This — ” Lin Sui’an found herself momentarily stuck on what to call the tattooed ruffian. By the customs of this era, males were generally addressed as such-and-such “Brother,” but calling him “Ruffian Brother” directly seemed somewhat inelegant. Lin Sui’an’s gaze made a circuit around the tattoo on his arm and she settled on a title. “This — Earthworm Brother — this constitutes sexual harassment.”

“My surname’s not Sexual—” Earthworm Brother had only gotten four words out when his arm made a sharp crack, and with a howl he toppled to the ground. His arm had been bent into a grotesque angle — snapped clean in two.

Lin Sui’an beamed sweetly. “Your mouth isn’t very clean either. Shall I help wash your tongue for you?”

Earthworm Brother’s face had gone ashen, cold sweat pouring down him, and he nearly blacked out from the pain — yet he still couldn’t stop his mouth. “Who do you think you are, do you have any idea who I—” The rest of the sentence never came out, as one underling clapped a hand over his mouth while the other desperately dragged him backward.

“Sweet mother of mercy — that’s Hua Clan’s Lin Sui’an!”

“A hundred of you wouldn’t be enough for her to cut down!”

The tattooed ruffian’s eyes bulged from their sockets, his legs kicking frantically, as the two underlings hauled him away from the scene at full speed.

The surrounding townspeople broke into applause and cheers.

“Many thanks to Lin Niangzi for coming to the rescue,” You Jiuniang dipped into a graceful curtsy — then suddenly her figure swayed, and boneless as a willow she toppled toward Lin Sui’an. “Oh dear, I have a timid constitution — I simply cannot bear a fright — my legs have gone weak—”

This fall was ten thousand kinds of graceful and charm, and a thousand flavors of coquetry. Lin Sui’an could hardly refuse to catch her — she wrapped an arm around You Jiuniang’s slender waist. You Jiuniang spun neatly around and struck a pose: a deep back-arch, one leg lifted high, the white gauze of her veil lifting at one corner before drifting slowly back down.

Lin Sui’an’s pupils contracted sharply.

You Jiuniang’s hair was adorned with three pearl hairpins — and this time Lin Sui’an saw them clearly. One of them was identical, to the last detail, to the hairpin she had seen through her golden finger.

Well, well. Searching the crowd a thousand times over, yet on a sudden turning, behold — she stands where the fading lanterns cast their gentle light!

Lin Sui’an’s brow arched in a smile. She hooked her arm under You Jiuniang’s knees and executed a textbook princess carry. “You Jiuniang has had quite a day. Why not come rest somewhere comfortable with me?”

You Jiuniang’s pretty face flushed a becoming shade of pink. “I am more than willing — it’s only that I brought a little sister with me today. It would be rather poor form to simply abandon her~”

Lin Sui’an: “No matter — she can come too.”

Amid a chorus of catcalls from the crowd, there came one discordant sharp intake of breath.

Lin Sui’an turned her head in surprise and saw, a few steps away, Yangdu’s foremost profligate standing stock-still, his entire body rigid, his face darkened like a storm cloud, his forehead turning a shade of green. The precious fan had slipped from his fingers and landed in the dirt, looking thoroughly dejected.

Skit:

Hua Yitang (tears streaming): If you want to get through life without a hitch, best to wear a bit of green upon your head.