As someone moderately averse to social interaction, Lin Sui’an was not skilled at conversation, and even less skilled at interrogation. But she loved to watch others conduct interrogations — especially Hua Yitang interrogating criminals.

There was a peculiar satisfaction to watching those hardened, vicious criminals driven by Hua Yitang to the point of spitting fury, losing their minds, and breaking down entirely.

So when she heard that Hua Yitang was about to interrogate all the principals in the Longshen God case, Lin Sui’an didn’t even stop to think — she followed along with great enthusiasm.

As the saying goes: if you’re not eager to watch the excitement, there’s something wrong with your head.

Especially since Hua Yitang had placed unusual importance on this round of interrogations and had spent three full days in preparation. Lin Sui’an had a feeling it would be a high-stakes affair full of unexpected twists, and if she couldn’t have a part in it, she wouldn’t be able to rest in her coffin.

Under the Tang legal code, for major criminal cases, the primary interrogating official was to be the county magistrate — the county’s first-ranking officer — with the chief clerk serving as the recording official and the county officer acting as deputy, generally only able to assist from the sidelines.

But the situation in Cheng County was uniquely exceptional. First, the Cheng County Longshen case had alarmed the Guangdu Prefecture, the Court of Judicial Review, the Covert Censorate, and even the Emperor himself — the case was simply too high-profile. Second, Magistrate Qiu Liang, having been imprisoned for so long, was physically frail and gravely ill, unable to manage any work. Chief Clerk Zhu Dachang was already a position gained through connections, lacked education, was timid, and was afraid of causing trouble — naturally he had no desire to take on the burden himself. And so the role of primary interrogating official fell, naturally and inevitably, to Cheng County’s County Officer Hua Yitang, with Zhu Dachang reduced to sitting in as a mere observer.

Hua Yitang, following his principle of “make full use of everything available, waste nothing,” pulled Ling Zhiyan in as the recording official as well. As for Lin Sui’an — Lin Sui’an concluded she was probably something like an auspicious ornament to ward off evil from the interrogation room.

The interrogation was set in the county jail rather than the main courthouse. Three or five jailers, seven or eight constables, a single desk, a few wooden benches — all quite spartan.

Today was the first time Hua Yitang had put on his County Officer’s official robe. The uniform for an official of the ninth rank lower grade was pale blue, with a self-provided headpiece, black belt and black boots. And yet — truth be told — sitting properly on the bench in that get-up, he actually looked rather the part.

The first prisoner brought for interrogation: former Master of the Longshen Temple, Xuanming.

Three days had passed since the great clash between the Flower God and the Dragon God, and Xuanming had clearly not fared well during that time. He was dragged before Hua Yitang by two constables, hanging limply like a strand of noodles, emaciated to the point where his shoulder blades jutted sharply beneath his skin, stooped as he knelt on the ground like a pale question mark.

Hua Yitang brought his fan down on the desk with a sharp crack — serving as his gavel. “Xuanming — where did you sell the ritual water and embroidered goods? Who are the downstream buyers?”

Xuanming slowly raised his head. His bloodshot eyes spun wildly. He let out a hollow laugh. “I’ll die before I tell you. Don’t even dream of it!”

“Oh.” Hua Yitang clicked his tongue. “What a shame.”

Xuanming was thrown off by Hua Yitang’s reaction. “What’s a shame?”

“What a shame that Xuanming has missed his last opportunity to confess honestly and receive a reduced sentence for his cooperation.” Hua Yitang opened his palm, and Zhu Dachang opened the wooden case on the desk and placed two scrolls into Hua Yitang’s hands.

The scrolls were plain-looking — one labeled “A,” one labeled “B.”

Hua Yitang unhurriedly untied the binding of Scroll A and unrolled it with a snap. The fish-scale pages rustled as they fanned open, row upon row of dense writing and a patchwork of colored maps, all reflected in Xuanming’s horrified pupils.

“What is this?!” Xuanming cried out.

Hua Yitang flipped the scroll around and displayed it to Xuanming. “This contains the names, addresses, and proprietors of all your establishments in Guangdu City, Yidu City, Dongdu City, Andu City, and Yangdu City. Also included are the route maps for transporting the ritual water and embroidered goods, along with the full list of personnel who made those deliveries over the past two years. Oh, and this too — the most interesting part.” Hua Yitang held Scroll B upright. “This is the Longshen Temple’s financial ledger for two years and four months. Not entirely complete, but sufficient.”

“I never wrote anything of the sort!” Xuanming lurched upright, clawing at the air, only to be shoved roughly back down by the constables. “It’s fake! You fabricated it!”

Hua Yitang’s eyes curved into smiling crescents. He passed the scroll to Zhu Dachang, who laid it out before Xuanming and flipped through it page by page. By the third or fourth page, Xuanming’s entire body had begun to shake violently. He shook his head over and over, wild-eyed. “Impossible! You couldn’t have known any of this! How do you know it? Who told you?!”

“Ah, so many people, where to begin.” Hua Yitang counted on his fingers. “Nine out of ten proprietors of those establishments in the five great cities are Qiu clan members. I had a look through the Qiu clan’s account books, then had a word with the Qiu clan elders. Old Qiu’s steward performed best — he provided quite a few leads. And the proprietors’ family members were all very cooperative once I promised leniency. The folk of Cheng County are truly upright and honest, aren’t they.”

Xuanming’s eyes nearly burst from their sockets. Though he strained with the effort, tears forced their way out.

“As for the delivery routes, that was even simpler.” Hua Yitang laughed aloud. “Xuanming the Shanren is clearly a man who would sooner die than betray his cause, iron-boned and unbending. Unfortunately, the jianghu men hired by the Qiu clan had no such fortitude — a little intimidation was all it took for them to spill everything. This one said a little, that one said a little, and stitching the pieces together naturally connected everything. Oh, and the Longshen Temple’s many disciples — they were utterly forthcoming to me, holding nothing back, speaking without reservation. Xuanming, you can take credit for raising such well-mannered disciples!”

“Hua Yitang!!” Xuanming thrashed madly. Two constables couldn’t hold him — two more had to run over, and the four of them together wrestled him to the ground. Xuanming’s screams of fury and Hua Yitang’s laughter resounded throughout the entire jail.

Zhu Dachang’s jaw dropped. Lin Sui’an raised an eyebrow and exchanged a glance with Ling Zhiyan, wondering what nonsense this wastrel was up to now.

Hua Yitang laughed until he nearly ran out of breath, his slightly reddened eyes tilted upward at the corners, lending him an ineffably seductive air. “I only played a small joke. How does that make me worse than a beast?”

“I want to kill you!” Xuanming howled.

Hua Yitang’s laughter cut abruptly to silence. He slammed his hand down on the desk and rose to his feet. “When you deceived the people of Cheng County in the name of the Dragon God, forced them to make offerings until they had scattered their entire family fortunes — were you worse than a beast? When you poisoned the people of Cheng County, making them fall ill and writhe between life and death — were you worse than a beast?! When you sold the ritual water across the Tang Kingdom, harming innocent people — were you worse than a beast?! Now that your crimes have been exposed and you still refuse to repent — are you worse than a beast?!”

Xuanming, snot and tears smearing his face, convulsed with trembling in every muscle and sinew. “Shut up! Shut up!!”

Hua Yitang’s throat worked several times. He waved his hand, and two constables carried in a stretcher, upon which lay a person — white-robed, face like wax, long-faced with a wide forehead, emaciated beyond recognition, a perfect mirror image of the Xuanqing that Yun Zhong Yue had impersonated. His breathing was barely audible.

Under the barrage of blows, Xuanming was nearly drained of all vitality. He looked up in disbelief, crawled forward, and felt the face on the stretcher for a moment before turning to glare at Yun Zhong Yue. “This is also a fake! Isn’t it?!”

Yun Zhong Yue, still wearing Xuanqing’s face, crouched beside the real Xuanqing and let out a long, slow sigh. “Doesn’t it strike you as strange? Among all the Longshen Temple’s disciples, why did I choose specifically him to impersonate? It wasn’t solely because he was your most trusted disciple. The most important reason is that he is the most foolish — and the most completely devoted to you.”

“What…?” Xuanming’s voice broke.

“I followed him for three months. He believed every word you said without question. You told him the ritual water prolonged life; every time he went to collect it, he would secretly steal a mouthful, dreaming that one day he might transcend into immortality.” Yun Zhong Yue shook his head. “In the end he became a living corpse who could do no more than breathe. For my purposes, that was actually convenient — at least I didn’t have to handle it personally.”

Xuanming’s body shook violently. He collapsed slowly onto the ground, his empty eyes streaming with tears, as though his entire being had been hollowed out.

A hush settled over the jail. After a long while, Hua Yitang’s quiet voice broke the silence. “He was poisoned by the ritual water. In all the world, only the Hundred Flower Dew can save his life.”

Xuanming looked up trembling, completely broken. “You know everything now, Hua Yitang. What more do you want?”

Hua Yitang reached into the wooden case and drew out a third scroll — blue cover, black seal, its title a single character: “Net.” He asked, “I want to know — where did this scroll come from?”

The instant Xuanming’s eyes fell on the scroll, his pupils contracted violently, and an expression of uncontrollable terror swept across his face.

Lin Sui’an had not seen this scroll before. But the moment she spotted the character “Net” on the cover, her heart gave an inexplicable lurch.

Xuanming’s hands clawed at his own arms, his shaking growing more severe. His gaze flickered between the real Xuanqing lying on the ground and the scroll in Hua Yitang’s hand. After a long moment, he squeezed his eyes shut and said in a low voice, “Third Master gave it to me.”

“Who is Third Master?”

“I have never seen his true face. Every time Third Master summoned me, he was cloaked in a great mantle, wearing a mask, his voice deliberately altered. To say nothing of his face — I didn’t even know if he was male or female.”

“Where did you meet?”

“Each time Third Master had a messenger inform me of the location. The meeting place was never the same twice.”

Hua Yitang gave a cold snort. “It seems Xuanming cares nothing for his junior disciple’s life.”

“I genuinely do not know who Third Master is!” Xuanming shrieked. “But Han Tai Ping certainly does — Han Tai Ping was sent by Third Master to oversee the Longshen Temple!”

Hua Yitang said nothing, watching Xuanming steadily.

Xuanming gave a bitter laugh. “My life and my junior disciple’s life are both in your hands now. Why would I lie to you?”

Hua Yitang had Xuanming and Xuanqing carried out.

Lin Sui’an leaned over to look at the scroll Hua Yitang was holding. It was carefully preserved, but the edges and binding were worn with age — it had clearly been around for some years.

“This scroll was hidden in Xuanming’s meditation chamber in a secret compartment,” Yun Zhong Yue said. “He guarded it like a treasure, so I brought it along.”

With this, even Ling Zhiyan couldn’t resist leaning in out of curiosity.

The scroll’s contents were sparse — only five pages. The paper had yellowed slightly. The first page held a painting: a Longshen Fruit, with a note in tiny characters below recording the method of processing the fruit — essentially the basic procedures of grinding, boiling, distillation, and purification, nothing unusual. The only oddity was that the notation beneath the Longshen Fruit did not read “Longshen Fruit” — it read “Net Fruit.”

Pages two and three were both missing; only fragments remained, and from those fragments only a few partial radicals with no decipherable meaning could be made out. Page four depicted a sharply angular stone, dark green in color, labeled “Heavenly Stone,” with a dense passage of cryptic writing below that Lin Sui’an could not decipher.

“A method for smelting the stone into weapons,” Hua Yitang and Ling Zhiyan said simultaneously.

An ominous association rose in Lin Sui’an’s mind: dark green, Heavenly Stone — could it be—

The final page had no illustration at all — only four lines of verse:

Net Fruit clarifies the body’s strength, Heavenly Steel draws upon the stars’ breath, Ten Cruelties seal the heart and soul, Breaking Army gives birth to the new.

Lin Sui’an’s sense of foreboding grew larger.

Whatever the true meaning of these four lines, their mystical, oracular style meant they were almost certainly connected — nine times out of ten — to “Qian Jing” and the “Ten Purity Collection.”

Come to think of it — that day when Xuanming had suddenly shouted at her, calling her a “traitor” — could that too have been related to this scroll?

Hua Yitang glanced at Lin Sui’an, his expression grave.

Lin Sui’an scratched her head. “At this point, there’s no running from it anyway.”

Hua Yitang brought his fan down. “Bring in Han Tai Ping!”

Side story:

Zhu Dachang: Hua Sijie is just a madman — so terrifying, ahhhh