When Xie Chi came out after bathing, He Feng had already left.

She sat by the bedside for a long time without feeling sleepy at all.

The room was a bit stuffy, so she opened the window a little to let in some fresh air.

As soon as she pushed the window open, she heard piercing laughter from not far below. She moved to the window and looked out to see a Japanese man wearing a dark blue kimono, extremely short, making the clothes on his body look long and loose.

He was sticking his bottom out and shouting into a tavern. Getting no response, he suddenly went in and dragged out a Chinese old man, patting his waist while laughing and speaking into his ear.

The distance was considerable, so Xie Chi could only hear fragments, but they were clearly insulting words.

Xie Chi stood at the window watching him toy with the old man – pushing, pulling, patting, shoving, then taking out a knife to play with, frightening the old man into repeated bowing.

Since the September 18th Incident and the fall of Northeast China, the devils had established their damned puppet Manchukuo here, making Changchun their capital and renaming it “Xinjing.” On the surface it looked peaceful, but they were devils wearing human skin – worse than actual devils.

Now the Japanese invaders were pushing their luck, extending their evil claws to North China. The government didn’t resist – first they’d signed the Tanggu Truce, followed by the He-Umezu Agreement, and who knew what other sovereignty-surrendering agreements and treaties would come next.

Meanwhile, high officials enjoyed wine and pleasure in the rear, letting the little Japanese run wild while ordering troops to chase and fight their own people. The poor Anti-Japanese Allied Army struggled to resist until now, still worrying about food and winter clothing.

Before leaving, the Japanese man kicked the old man to the ground.

He even spat on him.

He walked away satisfied while the old man behind him bowed and scraped until the Japanese disappeared, only then returning dejectedly.

Xie Chi felt heartbroken watching this. When the rulers did nothing, what could ordinary people do?

This Japanese man had two swords at his waist and wore this outfit – she couldn’t tell if he was a samurai, ronin, or soldier.

He hummed Japanese songs all the way, swaying as he walked west.

He was drunk and felt the urge to urinate. Looking around, he ducked into a secluded alley. He tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and urinated contentedly, pursing his lips and whistling.

Suddenly, his voice stopped.

His mouth half-open, eyes wide with shock, he saw his own blood splattered all over the wall in front of him. The urine was still flowing below, but he couldn’t steady that thing, clutching his neck, unable to stop the spurting blood. With gurgling sounds, he collapsed.

Soon, he made no more sound.

He died without understanding why, his pants still not pulled up.

Xie Chi walked past as if nothing had happened, as if she’d just taken a stroll and casually bought someone’s life.

She’d used He Zhangzhi’s knife – over these two years, she’d used this blade to end quite a few devils and traitors. If nothing else, it was truly sharp. Strike quickly and killing left no blood.

At seventeen, her first kill – Song Mang’s dead face haunted her dreams every night.

At twenty-one, she killed her second – she couldn’t even remember what that devil looked like. Things were always unfamiliar the first time, familiar the second. Her meager compassion had vanished completely when she crawled out of Yun Village.

But in fact, even now she didn’t dare slaughter a single chicken, because chickens were innocent, but devils deserved to die. If you showed them mercy, they would bully you, kill you, destroy your home, occupy your country.

Nanjing as the capital had countless Japanese spies and traitors, openly and secretly doing sneaky things. The maps they drew marked every shop and tree in meticulous detail.

The little devils had China figured out completely. When war really broke out, their planes would probably hit their targets with perfect accuracy.

More hateful than devils were the traitors. Yet the traitor ranks kept growing.

They deserved to be cut into a thousand pieces.

Xie Chi hid the knife in her sleeve and calmly walked back to the main street, casually stopping at an open tavern to buy three taels of wine.

She leisurely swayed back to the hotel.

…

Xie Chi slept very peacefully the latter half of the night, sleeping until noon the next day.

Going out to eat, she heard people discussing the death of a Kwantung Army squad leader the previous night.

This made her eat with even more relish.

There were no trains leaving today.

Xie Chi had to stay another day. Unable to act rashly in broad daylight, she sat peacefully in a coffee shop for half the afternoon, flipping through newspapers and magazines.

A beautiful woman greeted her: “Hello, may I sit here?”

Xie Chi looked up from her newspaper to see her wearing a fine checkered skirt, yellow leather shoes, and the most fashionable long curls, smiling sweetly at her. “Please sit.”

The beautiful woman sat down happily and got straight to the point: “Where did you have this qipao made? It’s so beautiful.”

“Made underground.”

“What?”

Xie Chi lifted her eyelids to look at her, then said seriously: “Nanjing.”

“What kind of embroidery is this? It’s so pretty.”

“Random embroidery.”

“Random embroidery? There’s such a technique?” The beautiful woman saw her laugh quietly and pouted. “You’re teasing me.”

“It really is randomly embroidered.”

“Then may I look at it closely?”

Xie Chi didn’t refuse.

The beautiful woman sat beside her. “The embroidery is so beautiful.”

Seeing her bright, sparkling eyes, Xie Chi suddenly said: “If you like it, I can embroider something small for you.”

“Are you an embroiderer?”

“I suppose so.”

Xie Chi took out a small bundle of needle and thread from her bag. She always carried these – when necessary, embroidery needles could serve great purposes.

“Why do you carry these with you?”

“I embroider a little when bored, to pass time.”

Xie Chi looked at her white round collar. “I think embroidering here would look good.”

“That’s fine.”

“What would you like embroidered?”

“The same as yours.”

“Mine is a black lotus, embroidered on black fabric – it’s just right. On your clothes it would be too conspicuous.”

“Then what should I do?”

“Use white thread.”

“Won’t that be invisible?”

“Faintly visible is more beautiful. Wouldn’t embroidering a red flower look vulgar?”

“That makes sense.”

Xie Chi moved closer to her. “Don’t move around now.”

“Okay.” The beautiful woman looked at her eyebrows and eyes. “Your skin is so good. How much does this cost?”

“No charge.” Xie Chi smiled slightly. “I just arrived in Xinjing and am unfamiliar with everything. How about you tell me about things here?”

“Sure, what kind of things do you want to hear? Food and drink? Or fun places.”

“Tell me about people.”

“People?” The beautiful woman glanced around. “You don’t want to hear about that person, do you?”

“Which person?”

“That one from the Forbidden City.”

Seeing her darting eyes, Xie Chi lowered her voice and laughed: “Not interested.”

“Then what do you want to hear?”

“Koike Ryuji.” Xie Chi stared into her eyes. “I happened to hear people chatting about him a few times. He seems quite interesting. Have you heard of him?”

“Of course I have.” The beautiful girl shook her head at the mention of this name. “He’s notorious, especially among women.”

“How so?”

“Cruel and ruthless.”

…

Xie Chi didn’t extract any fresh information. The beautiful girl chattered endlessly about romantic affairs, making her feel annoyed.

She quickly finished embroidering a lotus flower and left.

Xie Chi returned to the hotel, waited for dark, then went downstairs again.

She hadn’t walked far when He Feng blocked her path.

“What are you wandering around for?”

Xie Chi walked around him. “My legs are on my body – what business is it of yours?”

He Feng followed beside her. “Believe it or not, I’ll chop off your legs and attach two wheels so you can roll all the way to Beiping.”

“You’ve scared me to death.”

He Feng followed behind her, staring at her waist and hips. After years apart, she’d changed considerably – even her walk was graceful and swaying.

Xie Chi turned back to give him a lingering look. “Why are you following me?”

He Feng echoed her words: “My legs are on my body – what business is it of yours?”

Xie Chi gave a cold laugh and continued walking.

She went to buy half a jin of wine.

He Feng stood across from the tavern watching her. When she came back carrying the wine, he went up and snatched it away. “What’s a woman doing drinking wine?”

Xie Chi snatched it back. “Give it here.”

Suddenly, someone called out to He Feng.

“Koike-kun, another new lover?”

He Feng quickly grabbed Xie Chi’s wrist, pulled her into his arms, his large palm supporting the back of her head as he pressed her against his chest, perfectly hiding her face.

“Takahashi-kun.”

Takahashi approached. “What’s wrong with this young lady?”

He Feng smiled and said: “She had a couple drinks and got drunk.”

Xie Chi obediently nestled in his arms, looking up at his long eyelashes.

Takahashi saw the wine bottle in Xie Chi’s hand. “You should have her try our great Japanese sake.” He suddenly gave a sly, wicked laugh, moving closer and covering his mouth with his hand. “I won’t tell Miss Michi.”

He Feng nodded slightly at him. “Then I’ll go first. Let’s drink together another day.”

“Hahaha, go on then.”

He Feng left with Xie Chi in his arms.

After walking some distance, Xie Chi asked him: “Who is Miss Michi?”

He Feng didn’t respond.

“Your Japanese lover?”

“Don’t ask about things that aren’t your business.”

“Hiding me because you’re afraid your lover will find out?”

“You’re so beautiful – what if he takes a fancy to you?”

“Koike-kun is so capable, can’t he protect one woman?”

He Feng looked away, smiling silently.

…

Once inside the room, He Feng tugged at his collar.

Xie Chi leaned against the wall watching him.

He Feng pulled a train ticket from his pocket and stuffed it into her hand. “Get lost and go back. Don’t come here again.”

Xie Chi held it up, flicked the edge, then slowly tore it up.

He Feng stepped forward and gripped the back of her neck. “Must you make me angry?”

“I have money – I don’t need your dirty ticket.”

He Feng nodded. “Fine.”

Xie Chi scattered the torn pieces at him. “Get out.”

He Feng didn’t move. “A Japanese man died last night.”

“Mm.”

“Right around here.”

“Oh.”

“Didn’t anyone come to investigate?”

“Yes, they disturbed my sleep early this morning. I’m a weak woman without the strength to truss a chicken – I was scared to death.”

He Feng rubbed the back of her neck. “When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow. Why, are you afraid—”

Before she could finish speaking, He Feng suddenly blocked her mouth. She froze, momentarily forgetting to push him away.

He Feng released her. “Just a kiss – you don’t mind, do you?”

Xie Chi slapped him hard across the face, making it tingle.

He Feng straightened up, looking down at her from his height, pinching her chin with a mocking smile. “You’ve already gotten in the car with me – what are you acting so pure for? Weren’t you quite cooperative before?”

“Yes, I’ve always been cheap, using my body to trade for my life with you.”

He Feng’s smile faded and he lowered his hand.

Xie Chi walked inside, moved the table aside, and pulled out a knife from within.

He Feng watched it impassively, but his heart was trembling.

Xie Chi walked back and handed him the knife. “This was given to me by your second uncle before. You probably don’t remember. I’ve kept it all these years – now I’m returning it to you.”

He Feng took it.

Xie Chi said: “I picked off the stone on top and sold it, then found a similar one to set in.”

He Feng said nothing.

“I don’t know what made you become like this, forgetting family hatred and national enmity… I can’t bring myself to kill you. If you’re truly helping the Japanese invaders, then I wish you a miserable death. If not—” She looked at him wearily. “The very air here makes me feel humiliated. Nothing but the blood of devils and traitors can wash away this foul atmosphere.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t speak carelessly. I don’t know you. The young master of Yun Village died cleanly on the mountain in the winter of 1930.”

He Feng laughed lightly and contemptuously threw down the knife. “A broken blade – if you don’t want it, just throw it away.”

Xie Chi looked down at the short knife on the floor.

“I’m leaving.”

He stood at the door for a while, then opened it and left.

He walked quickly downstairs, opened the car door, and sat in the driver’s seat.

Speeding along, he suddenly stopped at the end of the road.

He gripped the steering wheel tightly, then grabbed the gun beside him and struck himself hard in the face.

Gritting his teeth, he banged his head against the steering wheel twice.

The horn blared, startling a man and woman passing by.

Another Japanese, with his arms around a Japanese woman, cursed at the car.

He Feng, having nowhere to vent his anger, suddenly threw open the car door, took two steps forward, and kicked the man hard in the chest.

Probably broke his ribs – the man fell to the ground wailing in pain.

…