In that instant, every breath in the room stopped.

Time turned strangely thick, like a pot of porridge that had been simmering for hours. The deadly broth splashed through it, gaining weight, dragging itself sluggishly toward the bright robes of Hua Family’s Fourth Young Master — but that pristine hem, white as unflawed jade, was like a butterfly’s wing: it floated away without so much as a drop landing on it.

Only then did everyone remember to breathe. As air rushed back into their lungs, time recovered its natural pace. The broth splattered across the floor with a rush, and Ji Gaoyang’s twisted smile froze on his face — like a dust-covered idol in an abandoned shrine.

Hua Yitang had ended up far back near Magistrate Xu’s desk. He had not moved there himself — he had been lifted there by a young woman in fitted martial attire. The crowd finally understood: the illusion of a moment ago, the sense that time had slowed, was because that young woman had been moving too fast.

Magistrate Xu was terrified to a pale shade of green. Clutching his nose, he shrieked: “Poison! Poison — p-p-poison!”

The townspeople, constables, and officers all recoiled in shock and scattered outward with a roar.

Three people alone did not move: Jin Ruo in the crowd, Yita on the hall floor, and Fang Ke at the hall’s edge. All three stood straight-backed — quite distinct from the chaos around them.

Hua Yitang scratched the corner of his brow with his fan. “The broth isn’t poisoned. Mu Xia bought a rabbit from the market. I was bluffing.”

Lin Sui’an: “I know.”

“Oh?”

“The broth was fatty,” Lin Sui’an said. “Getting it on your clothes would’ve ruined them.”

Hua Yitang paused. A flush crept up his earlobe as though a light brush of rouge had been swept across it. “You were worried about me—”

Lin Sui’an’s next sentence shattered whatever he was building: “After all, your looks are the only thing you have going for you.”

Hua Yitang’s eye twitched, and he raised his fan in wounded reproach.

Their voices, neither loud nor soft, carried perfectly to every ear inside and outside the hall. Jin Ruo was overtaken by goosebumps for no reason he could name. The townspeople, upon hearing there was no poison, surged back in with a whoosh. Magistrate Xu recovered his spirit and slapped the gavel down three times in succession: “Hear the judgment! Ji Gaoyang exploited the trust placed in him as a physician to poison and kill ten common citizens. His methods were cruel, his heart vicious, his actions depraved beyond measure! Sentenced to death by beheading!”

Ji Gaoyang lay on the ground. At hearing the verdict he did not wail or cry out — instead he began to laugh, on and on: “You understand nothing. I am a divine healer. I am a god. I am a god. Whoever I wish to die, must die, must die—”

Half his face had been swollen by Hua Yitang’s slap, his hair had come loose, his mouth was foaming blood, and his expression was frenzied — as if he had gone mad.

“Remove him! Keep him under strict watch!” Magistrate Xu thundered. “Once the case records have been submitted to the Court of Judicial Review for final adjudication, carry out the sentence at once!”

Beneath the universal contempt and disgust of the assembled witnesses, four constables carried Ji Gaoyang out. Though the man himself was gone, that bone-chilling laughter seemed to have taken root in everyone’s ears and refused to leave.

Magistrate Xu let out a long breath, straightened his official attire, and brought the gavel down twice. “Hear the judgment: physician Fang Ke has rendered meritorious service by providing the key evidence in this criminal case. Awarded three strings of coin. Released forthwith. Go home — and be a good doctor from now on.”

The constables removed Fang Ke’s chains. Fang Ke was silent for a moment, then clasped his hands in a bow toward Lin Sui’an and Hua Yitang, and turned to leave.

Hua Yitang instantly looked radiant, fanning himself with such vigor one might have expected flowers to come flying off. Lin Sui’an found the whole thing thoroughly baffling.

Magistrate Xu continued: “Hua Family’s Fourth Young Master, in recognition of solving this case—”

“No need,” Hua Yitang snapped his fan shut with a crack, waving a dismissive hand. “It was the least I could do.”

Magistrate Xu was so moved his eyes glistened. He rose from his seat and bowed deeply. “Hua Family’s Fourth Young Master — your righteousness is without parallel! Xu is filled with the deepest admiration!”

“Many thanks to the Fourth Young Master!”

“Many thanks to the Fourth Young Master!”

“Fourth Young Master truly lives up to his name!”

“Fourth Young Master, you are extraordinary!”

From the crowd outside the hall, cheers and applause erupted and swelled — wave upon wave, threatening to take the magistrate’s court roof clean off.

Fang Ke stood quietly at the street corner. He watched the common people cheer and leap with joy. His expression grew still darker. All at once his eyes shifted — he turned and set off at a quick pace toward the ward gate. Less than half an hour remained until curfew. He had to move quickly.

Out of Yihe Ward, around Liuhe Ward and Wuhe Ward, he made straight for Qihe Ward. Fang Ke rarely walked this fast. By the time he arrived at Qihe Ward, he was gasping and drenched in sweat, and without food or water all day his vision was already flickering black at the edges. But he could not stop — he pushed on with sheer willpower, following Five Stone Street until he reached the gates of the Ji Family clinic. What greeted him made his heart sink immediately.

Dozens of people had gathered at the Ji Family clinic entrance, and a volley of insults, rotten cabbage leaves, and rotten eggs was raining upon the clinic’s sign and walls:

“Ji Gaoyang — worse than a beast!”

“Ji Gaoyang — depraved and heartless!”

“Ji Gaoyang — devoid of all conscience!”

“I don’t believe Ji Gaoyang could kill so many people without his wife knowing!”

“Two people sleep in the same bed — you can’t have them be different kinds — his wife is definitely an accomplice!”

“And that little brat of his — looks shifty-eyed and weaselly — grow up and he’ll be a menace too for sure!”

“Everyone charge in together!”

“We can’t shelter these vipers in our midst!”

“Charge!”

The leaders among the crowd kicked open the clinic door without further ado and stormed in. The clinic erupted in a cascade of crashes and shattering sounds — clearly the entire place was being destroyed.

He had arrived too late, as he had feared.

Sweat dripped from the tip of Fang Ke’s nose, landing on lips gone pale — salty and bitter. Fang Ke pressed his lips tight, and with heavy steps forced his way into the crowd. He raised his voice: “Tang law stipulates that even in cases of the most heinous crimes, guilt shall not extend to the family. Whether Ji Gaoyang’s family knew anything of this — you cannot presume—”

“Out of the way!” A black-faced man leaped out of the doorway and slapped Fang Ke aside. Fang Ke had a slight build and no firm footing — the blow sent him tumbling head over heels, leaving him dizzy and disoriented.

“Damn it all!” The black-faced man spat on the ground. “Ji’s woman and the brat are gone — nothing’s left!”

“The constables are coming! Move!” Someone in the crowd hissed. In the next instant, those who had been shouting loudest turned and swarmed away like bees hit with a puff of smoke, and the ones who had rushed into the clinic came leaping and scrambling out and vanished in a flash. They were all ruffians and opportunists who had been exploiting the chaos.

The remaining dozen or so ordinary townspeople threw a few more eggs and left in shared indignation.

Fang Ke stumbled to his feet, lowered his head, and stepped back into the shadow of a wall. The constables rushed into the Ji Family clinic, and after a moment retreated back out, reporting to their leader: “Ji Shi and the child are gone. No casualties.”

The leader let out a relieved breath. “Good. Fall in — back to the post.”

Once the constables had departed hurriedly, Fang Ke emerged from the shadows and stood for a moment looking at the Ji Family clinic sign — now smeared all over with rotten eggs — before turning to leave.

It seemed Ji Shi and the child had received word and left of their own accord.

Good.

Night was closing in. The sun had sunk below the mountains, and the last faint remnant of its light seemed to pool on the ground like spilled blood. Fang Ke felt as though the road beneath his feet had turned to thick, clotted sludge — with every step he sank in, and every step took the full strength of his body to pull free.

The coin pouch tucked against his chest was very heavy. His lungs and heart were very heavy.

As heavy as the crocks that held Lu Shi’s organs and flesh and blood.

So it turned out he was such a stupid, ignorant man — so far inferior to that idle, good-for-nothing profligate.

Because he had failed to notice such a vital clue, Ji Gaoyang had gone on taking opportunity after opportunity to kill those old men.

Why had he not discovered it sooner…

The last thread of twilight sank below the horizon. Darkness dropped like a curtain. Fang Ke pushed open his clinic door and dragged his feet inside. He leaned against the plain white screen and sat down on the floor in the dark. A thread of spiderweb caught his face. He lifted his fingers toward it, then gave up. He tilted his head back and exhaled a long, heavy breath.

What was the difference between him now and a fly caught in a cobweb — both equally pitiful and stupid creatures.

“Oh, our Dr. Fang is back!” The door planks creaked open. Three shadows stabbed long into the room like black tree trunks. “As the saying goes, great trouble survived brings good fortune — I hear Magistrate Xu rewarded Dr. Fang handsomely. Surely the debt Dr. Fang owes us is finally due to be settled?”

Fang Ke’s lightless eyes didn’t move. He pulled out the coin pouch from his chest and threw it to the ground.

The debt collectors picked it up and looked through it. One of them made a clicking sound with his tongue. “Dr. Fang — perhaps you’ve miscalculated. You owe us fifteen strings of coin, and there are only three strings here.”

Fang Ke: “Three strings is all I have. Take it or leave.”

“You’d rather not do this the easy way?!” The debt collector erupted in fury, stamped across the floor, pulled back his sleeve, and swung a fist — when, at that precise moment, light blazed up in the darkness. Not one light — five lights. Red, orange, crimson, green, purple — coalescing into a dazzling rainbow that crack struck the debt collector across the face, and then a dark gale swept through the room. There came a rapid cracking and snapping, cries and screams that seemed to come from every direction, as if all the demons of the underworld had been unleashed.

Fang Ke stared in disorientation at the darkness before him. Then a cluster of light rose, mellow and gentle, illuminating the small, dilapidated clinic.

The light fell on the face of a young woman — with long, elegant brows and phoenix eyes, an air of fierce capability about her. Fang Ke recognized her: she was the spirited young woman who accompanied Hua Yitang. She was called Lin Sui’an, if he recalled correctly.

The object she was using right now to light their way was a night pearl the size of a goose egg.

Another cluster of light appeared — another night pearl, this one held aloft by the golden-haired, green-eyed youth who wore a full hand of gem-set rings that blazed into rainbow halos in the glow.

Fang Ke narrowed his eyes involuntarily. How blinding.

“Pig person,” Yita pointed at the three debt collectors who were sobbing and sprawled across the floor, “Worm brothers.”

Lin Sui’an crouched down and held the night pearl close to light them. She laughed — she recognized these three: the leader still had his arm bound in a splint, and these were none other than the ruffian trio from that afternoon.

“Earthworm Brother — coming to work with a broken arm. Admirable dedication.”

Both underlings had puffy, bruised faces streaked with snot and tears, and Earthworm Brother had half a face swollen like a pig’s head, two teeth missing, his whole body of flab quivering. “I — I have a promissory note!” he stammered.

Lin Sui’an: “How much does he owe you?”

Earthworm Brother pulled out a battered, crumpled document from his chest. “Bl-black and white on paper — principal twelve strings of coin, borrowed over half a year, money begets money and interest begets interest — total due is fifteen strings. Fang Ke signed his name himself, there’s — there’s even a thumbprint! I’m just collecting on behalf of my boss — if I can’t get the money back, I’ll — I’ll get beaten too!”

Fifteen strings…

Lin Sui’an rubbed her head. “Yita, do you have any money on you?”

Yita turned away: “No have.”

“What about one of your rings—”

Yita shook his head frantically like a rattle drum.

Lin Sui’an sighed and opened her mouth wide: “Hua Yitang—”

Thud — a pouch dropped squarely on the back of Earthworm Brother’s head. He flopped face-first onto the ground. The two underlings cried out in joy, for the pouch was brimming with gold leaves.

“As expected — in the critical moment, I must be the one to provide!” Hua Yitang’s money arrived before he did. His pristine boots trod lightly into the room on the glow of the night pearl, Jin Ruo at his side looking exactly like a lampstand, both palms raised aloft, two night pearls resting on them and a third balanced on top of his head, his eyes — what little one could see of them — squeezed into crescents by his enormous grin. “We agreed — these three pearls count as my travel expenses.”

Earthworm Brother had taken a sizable lump on the back of his head from the gold leaf impact, but seemed to feel no pain at all. He cradled the pouch, his voice shaking: “These — all these are for us?!”

Lin Sui’an: “Repayment of Fang Ke’s debt.”

“I wish the Hua Clan prosperity and all good fortune — and now I take my leave!”

The debt-collecting trio, clutching their gold leaves, rolled and scrambled out the door and were gone.

Fang Ke closed his eyes, then pulled himself up from the floor. “Have you come to laugh at my misfortune?”

“Ha! Ha! Ha!” Hua Yitang laughed three times loudly — and then his cheerful expression snapped shut like a door. “You look so gaunt and bitter, you’re not the least bit funny.”

Lin Sui’an: “Pfft.”

Fang Ke ground his teeth. “What exactly do you want?”

Hua Yitang let out a long, drawn-out “tsk,” “It’s Lin Sui’an who insisted on coming — I certainly have no desire to see that wan, ghostly mug of yours…”

Fang Ke frowned and shifted his gaze to Lin Sui’an. This was the third time he had observed her carefully. The first had been at the burial grounds, where her bladework had been ferocious and terrifying — like a god or demon incarnate. The second was when she had spotted those white ceramic crocks and her eyes had gone lit up and bright with fascination. The third was now: her brows and eyes were curved in a smile, and she was grinning the grin of a yellow weasel that had got into the henhouse.

“Brother Fang Ke,” Lin Sui’an considered herself to be smiling with warmth and sincerity, “We intend to hire you as a coroner. What does Brother Fang say?”

Fang Ke went blank. It took him a moment to find his voice. “What?!”

Lin Sui’an maintained her smile, relaxed and earnest: “A gentleman of Brother Fang’s forensic skill — not to be put to work as a coroner of renown — would truly be a great loss to the coroner profession of our Tang Kingdom! Hua Family’s Fourth Young Master here is about to take the official examination in the Eastern Capital, and glory and advancement are surely imminent. As they say, a good man needs three companions—”

“One month, fifty gold pieces, room and board included. Yes or no?” Hua Yitang snapped his fan shut.

Fang Ke sucked in a breath. “What?!”

Hua Yitang: “Final offer — fifty gold per month, room and board included!”

Fang Ke: “I am a physician, not a coroner!”

“No matter, no matter — a forensic examiner is still a physician of a kind — ahem, what I mean is,” Lin Sui’an adopted a solemn expression, stretched out her arm, and squinted at a crib sheet written on her palm, “As it is said — a physician heals and relieves the suffering of the living; a coroner examines and seeks truth for the dead. The one serves the living, the other the departed. They seem opposed, yet at their root, both hold human life as their highest purpose — different roads, the same destination.”

Fang Ke went still. In the soft glow of the pearl light, he looked into the young woman’s eyes — bright as stars. They were eyes full of trust — trust in him.

【One serves the living, one the departed… different roads, the same destination…】

Someone like him — dense and foolish as he was — and there were people willing to place their trust in him?

Fang Ke let out a slow, long breath — so long it seemed to carry all the bitterness out of his organs along with it. He lowered his eyes and bowed:

“Fang’s skill is crude and unworthy. I am honored not to be turned away. From this day forward, I will give every effort.”

They had him!

Lin Sui’an was elated, thoroughly satisfied with the results of this recruitment: as expected — to retain such a proud and high-minded highly skilled technical talent, nothing works like painting a grand vision.

Hua Yitang drifted over, fanning himself: “Wasn’t I right? You have an approachable face — he’d agree to anything as long as it was you asking.”

Lin Sui’an demurred: “Obviously it was my speech just now — about life, death, and the worth of human lives — that moved him—”

“One question — when do we sign the employment contract?” Fang Ke interjected.

Both of them: “Hm?”

Fang Ke: “Is payment monthly or daily? Are there penalties for late payment? What are the penalty terms? What is the standard for the three daily meals? Will there be tea and refreshments? How many courtyards does the accommodation include? Please have all of this specified clearly in the contract.”

Both of them: “…”

The eave cut a slanted line across the sun’s halo. Dawn light broke sudden and new across the sky, half of it falling under the shadow of the garden trees in the detached courtyard. The wind set the bells dangling from the eaves tinkling. Lin Sui’an leaned at leisure against a low table, fingertips turning a steamed cake that Mu Xia had freshly made, watching the expressions on the faces of the five head stewards of Heyue City’s main branches.

The scene was not so very different from three days prior — yet people and circumstances had already changed.

In only three days, Hua Yitang’s reputation in Heyue City had grown enormous. The five stewards now regarded this profligate with a mixture of awe and dread, standing in a neat line in the courtyard, hands clasped at their sides, heads lowered, occasionally mopping sweat from their brows with their sleeves.

Hua Yitang was as he always was — a picture of indolence, leafing through account books with an air of couldn’t-care-less. Every now and then he would raise his eyes to sweep across the stewards’ expressions, produce a couple of “hmm”s, and watch them all go pale — before lazily withdrawing his gaze.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Jin Ruo said. “This person has an exceedingly wicked heart.”

“Wicked men meet their match in wickedness,” Lin Sui’an said.

“Pig person, drink tea.” Yita’s tea was late — but never absent. It was shoved firmly into Lin Sui’an’s hands. Jin Ruo took advantage of the moment to upend the entire plate of cakes into his mouth, then pointed to his chipmunk cheeks to indicate he had no room to speak.

Lin Sui’an sat rigid holding the tea bowl, eyes roving — and just then caught a glimpse of Fang Ke, who had only just risen and washed up and was now walking past. She was delighted. Without further ado she grabbed Fang Ke and steered him over, pressing the tea bowl into his hands. “Brother Fang — come, come, have a cup of tea, clear the head.”

Fang Ke blinked at the group without particular comprehension, lifted the bowl to his nose, sniffed, and took a small sip. His eyes brightened. He drained the bowl. “Any more?”

Jin Ruo spat a mouthful of cake crumbs all over the ground. Yita’s face lit up. He promptly refilled Fang Ke’s bowl, and Fang Ke settled at the desk and began drinking with evident appreciation. Yita, in high spirits, shuffled about excitedly, moving the tea cauldron, the wind-stove, the water ladle, and the tea strainer all to Fang Ke’s side, and set to brewing tea with wholehearted devotion.

The tea cauldron gurgled and bubbled, its surface sending up black bubbles, the rim bearing unidentified floating seasonings. Yita stirred with a tea ladle and murmured his way through an off-key Tang-language song. Fang Ke drank his tea and offered occasional comments. From their expressions, the two seemed to be getting along splendidly.

Jin Ruo covered his mouth. His eyes spun rapidly in every direction. His expression said everything: Terrifying!

Lin Sui’an shook her head in admiration. “Brother Fang truly is formidable!”

“Excellent.” Hua Yitang gestured for the stewards to return their account books, slowly waving his fan. “I will personally report to the family head. Henceforth, all account books under the Hua Clan’s commercial establishments shall take the five Heyue City main branches as the model standard. The stewards have worked hard.”

The stewards all wore smiles — but smiles that looked more painful than tears. They backed away bowing with respectful farewells: “Much obliged to the Fourth Young Master! We are grateful for the Fourth Young Master’s efforts!”

Lin Sui’an let out a sigh. Heaven only knew how much money these stewards had dug out of their own pockets to make up the false figures on the accounts — in just these few days, each of them seemed to have visibly thinned.

The Precious Treasures Pavilion’s Steward Li was kept back again. Also kept back this time were Steward Zhang and Xiao Yan. And once again, the reason was a pearl hairpin.

Hua Yitang signaled Xiao Yan to step forward and pushed the lacquered box on the table toward her. “Open it and take a look.”

Xiao Yan’s eyes were still swollen. She didn’t quite understand — but when she saw what was in the box, her eyes went red again. “This — this is Master Lu’s…”

Lying on the white satin cloth of the lacquered box was the pearl hairpin Lu Shi had made with his own hands.

Hua Yitang said, “This was Lu Shi’s legacy to you. Take it home and keep it safe.”

Xiao Yan: “Me?”

Hua Yitang gave a small smile. He took up the brush, dipped it in ink, and carefully painted over the decorative carving on the head of the hairpin. Then he pressed a sheet of paper against it, made a rubbing, and held it up for Xiao Yan to see.

Xiao Yan was puzzled. On the paper was a strange shape — a longer arc above, a shorter arc below. She felt she had seen it somewhere before, but couldn’t quite make out what it was.

“What is this?” Xiao Yan asked.

Hua Yitang took up the brush, and following the rubbing’s lines, drew the mirror image on the other half of the paper. Xiao Yan stared at it — and stared — and then tears and laughter erupted together onto her face. “It’s a swallow! A swallow! Master Lu made this hairpin for me! It was for me — he made it for me!”

By the last word, she was sobbing too hard to speak.

The courtyard fell silent. Every person said nothing, watching the girl’s tears fall upon the ground and gather into a few dark, muted shadows — Yita stilled his tea-making, Fang Ke set down his bowl, Lin Sui’an gripped the handle of Qian Jing, and from within the scabbard the blade sent out a low, mournful sound. Hua Yitang lowered his lashes and, with a corner of silk cloth, wiped the ink from the pearl hairpin. The gesture was extraordinarily tender — as if he were soothing the spirit that slept within the pin.

Jin Ruo suddenly stood, walked over, and said something quietly in Xiao Yan’s ear. Xiao Yan looked up sharply, her tears breaking into a smile. She gave Jin Ruo a firm nod, folded the rubbing carefully and tucked it into her chest, hugged the lacquered box tightly, and bowed to each of them in turn. Then she raised her chin, straightened her back, and walked away.

The morning light fell on her slight but perfectly straight spine. It was what hope and the future looked like.

“What did you say to her?” Lin Sui’an asked.

“I reminded her that if Lu Jiu comes to make trouble, she need only mention Six Pockmarks by name,” Jin Ruo said. “This girl has real talent — Six Pockmarks and I both think she’s worth developing. The Pure Gate needs fresh blood.”

Lin Sui’an drew out a long “oh—.”

“Drawing the Hua Clan’s wages and doing business for your Pure Gate — Jin Ruo, your abacus clicks faster than mine!” Hua Yitang laughed, his tone laden with pointed irony.

Jin Ruo: “The holder of Qian Jing is your partner — what’s the point of drawing such a fine line between families?”

These words were clearly to Hua Yitang’s complete satisfaction — his whole person seemed to light up and bloom.

Lin Sui’an: “…”

“Fourth Young Master, I’m back.” Mu Xia, hem damp with dew, hurried into the courtyard. “The carriage is ready as well — we can set off whenever you wish.”

Hua Yitang rose, and as he fanned himself, he glanced in Fang Ke’s direction, raising his voice considerably: “And how are the Ji Clan mother and child being settled — hmm?“

Fang Ke’s expression tightened abruptly.

“Fourth Young Master, rest assured — all arrangements have been made. No one will trouble them further.”

Hua Yitang’s smile widened. “Very — good—“

Fang Ke was silent for a long moment. His expression gradually returned to what it normally was. “I see. Well then. Not unworthy of the name Hua Family’s Fourth Young Master — truly as rumor has it. Idle with plenty of money.”

Hua Yitang’s preening smile stuck to his face like a scorched flatbread.

Fang Ke lowered his head in a bow, and went back inside to pack his things.

Lin Sui’an burst out laughing. Jin Ruo rolled his eyes. Yita shook his head with a sigh.

“Mu Xia!” Hua Yitang raised his fan and roared, “Go — go at once and order several sets of clothes for Fang Ke — in the most fashionable Eastern Capital styles! He dresses so wretchedly — if word gets out, where does that leave the face of my Hua Clan?!”

Mu Xia’s professional smile showed two more teeth than usual. “As you command.”

Skit:

Hua Yitang: Why does our coroner have to be Fang Ke specifically? In the Eastern Capital, with the Hua Clan’s connections, what kind of coroner couldn’t we find?

Lin Sui’an: Because I caught the scent of a kindred spirit in him.

Hua Yitang: He also wears incense?

Lin Sui’an: …It’s the smell of someone with terrible luck.

The title of this Ni You Qian Wo You Dao – Chapter segment is drawn from poetry.

Author: Zhang Zai of the Wei-Jin period

Strength fades and fails day by day, hair and temples whiten at last.

Once the glory of a spring blossom — now the withered grass of an autumn past.