The person stared at Lin Chengyou without saying a word.

“Wondering where you slipped up?” Lin Chengyou tightened his grip on the silver chain, speaking with a smile.

Behind him was a jade window with a bright moon. The night wind blew in through the window, making the oil lamp on the table flicker. The person remained motionless, only the flame dancing in their dark eyes.

“To be fair, you did everything flawlessly,” Lin Chengyou said. “The matters of Qingzhi and Yaohuang are now without witnesses. A sachet proves nothing, the Carefree Daoist of Luoyang has vanished without a trace, and even for the Heart-Rotting Grass, you have Gekin to take the blame. As long as you clean the small Buddha hall thoroughly, all evidence will disappear. In a few days, you’ll walk out of Caifeng Tower, and no one will know what you’ve done.”

The silver chain clinked softly. The person seemed to just regain consciousness, clutching their painful chest while coughing: “Cough, cough, cough… I don’t understand a word the Young Master is saying. I just accidentally stumbled in here to avoid trouble…”

Teng Yuyi, hidden behind Lin Chengyou, kept watching the person’s expressions and movements. Hearing this, she smiled faintly: “After wearing a mask for so long, have you almost forgotten your true face?”

The person’s throat caught.

“When you ambushed me, your strike was incredibly vicious,” Teng Yuyi calmly observed the other party. “Judging by the wind force and speed of your palm technique, your martial arts are no less than the Five Paths of Dongming Temple. If Lin Chengyou had arrived just a bit later, I would have lost my life at your hands.”

The person’s demeanor grew increasingly panicked: “No, Young Master Wang, there must be some misunderstanding. Earlier I mistook you for Juan’er Li and wanted to greet you, but before I could figure out what was happening, the Young Master had already tied me up. Look, you’re perfectly fine now. If I had wanted to harm someone—”

The people in the room buzzed: “With both witness and physical evidence present, you still dare to quibble—”

Lin Chengyou raised his hand to quiet everyone around: “I was just wondering if you would confess readily, but it seems I thought too much. How could a murderer who has already gone down the path of demonic cultivation bow their head and admit guilt? Since you’re so fearless, I have plenty of patience. If you won’t speak, I’ll speak for you.”

He then called out: “Bring in the items.”

Immediately, two yamen runners entered carrying trays.

The person glimpsed what was on the trays, and their expression subtly changed.

On the left tray was a stack of vermillion women’s robes, and on the right was a Daoist’s black robe and gauze cap.

Lin Chengyou picked up the vermillion robe and glanced at the person: “Actually, until tonight, I wasn’t sure whether you meant to kill Juan’er Li or E Ji, because they had both seen things they shouldn’t have, and both could have been your targets. If I’m not mistaken, the female ghost E Ji saw outside the small Buddha hall that night was you, wasn’t it?”

The person’s eyes rippled slightly.

Lin Chengyou watched them with a smile: “You went to the small Buddha hall late at night to set up an array for harming people, but unexpectedly ran into E Ji. She saw you wearing the vermillion robe and mistook you for a female ghost. With your cautious nature, you should have eliminated E Ji, so why didn’t you kill her in the end?”

The person looked bewildered, blankly shaking their head.

“If you won’t say, then I’ll just guess,” Lin Chengyou stroked his chin. “E Ji is quite talkative. After encountering the ghost, she told everyone about her experience. Soon everyone knew about the female ghost haunting the small Buddha hall. If you had struck then, it would have been difficult not to connect E Ji’s death with the small Buddha hall. If officials came to thoroughly investigate the small Buddha hall, your array-setting might have been exposed. Rather than risk greater danger, it was better to hold back. Besides—”

“You were very confident E Ji wouldn’t recognize you,” Lin Chengyou examined their figure. “The female ghost wore women’s robes and departed light as wind. Even if E Ji racked her brains, she couldn’t have imagined it was you. That day when I told E Ji the female ghost might be the murderer and asked her to recall the ghost’s appearance carefully, although she grew suspicious, she never thought of you. This was partly because your disguise skills are quite remarkable, and partly because in her mind, you were not only cowardly but also very clumsy. How could a light and floating female ghost be you? Each additional murder means bearing another risk. Since she couldn’t suspect you, it was better to spare her temporarily. Am I right?”

The person forced out a smile uglier than crying: “Young Master, I’m getting more confused the more I listen. What female ghost? What vermillion robes? I don’t understand a word.”

“Don’t understand?” Lin Chengyou sneered, casually picking up the Daoist robe from the other tray. “Then let’s talk about this.”

He lifted the collar and shook it, and the pale yellow robe cascaded down. At first glance, the robe was extraordinarily large, suitable only for someone of tall and sturdy build.

“Looks familiar, doesn’t it?” Lin Chengyou said with a smile. “This was gathered based on the dress of that Carefree Daoist. It’s said this person was quite accomplished in Daoist arts, and the small Buddha hall was built under his guidance. Strange though, for such an important guest, few in the tower had seen him in person. I asked all the courtesans and temple servants in the tower, and fewer than fifteen claimed to have seen the Carefree Daoist. One of them was Juan’er Li, and she hadn’t just seen him at Caifeng Tower, but once more afterward.”

He paused: “On the eighth of last month, Juan’er Li went to burn incense at Puti Temple. While resting at a roadside tavern afterward, she happened to see the Carefree Daoist pass by the entrance. This Daoist had been missing for long, and his sudden appearance in Chang’an inevitably aroused suspicion. Juan’er Li mentioned this to Baozhu when she returned, but E Ji and Qingzhi overheard it. This matter eventually reached your ears, making you contemplate killing Juan’er Li.”

The person’s facial muscles seemed frozen, their expression unmoved.

Lin Chengyou continued: “Actually, at first I couldn’t understand either. Just seeing the Carefree Daoist shouldn’t warrant a death sentence. To clarify this point, I specifically went to look around Puti Temple and discovered that besides the tavern, there was also a jewelry shop. Upon asking, I learned that Qingzhi had brought several taels of gold that day and bought many precious ornaments at the shop—gold that she had extorted from you.”

The person suddenly began coughing, waving their hand while coughing, their face written “wronged.”

“Are you thinking, Juan’er Li saw the Carefree Daoist, so how does this connect to you?” Lin Chengyou coldly smiled as he put the Daoist robe back on the tray and picked up a portrait beneath it. “That’s because there never was any Carefree Daoist—you were impersonating him all along.”

At these words, it was as if thunder had struck in everyone’s ears.

“How… how is this possible?”

Lin Chengyou glanced at the fierce-looking Daoist in the portrait: “Looking at this portrait alone, who could imagine the Daoist was you in disguise? You knew your disguise skills were excellent, so you deliberately disguised yourself as the Carefree Daoist while following Qingzhi. By then you had already decided to kill her because she kept blackmailing you. Rather than act within Caifeng Tower, it would be better to kill her in a quiet spot on the street. On the eighth, many courtesans in the tower took leave to go out, including Qingzhi. You saw this as a good opportunity and followed behind her, but unexpectedly, Juan’er Li witnessed this.”

“Juan’er Li didn’t know you were following Qingzhi, because she only saw you disguised as the Carefree Daoist, but didn’t see Qingzhi in the crowd. However, you’ve always been paranoid, constantly worried she might remember something. Qingzhi was certainly going to die, but if Juan’er Li recalled that Qingzhi had been followed by the Carefree Daoist before her death, it would surely draw official suspicion. If they investigated the Carefree Daoist, many things would be exposed.”

At this point, Lin Chengyou threw the scroll back onto the tray: “You knew very well that the Carefree Daoist was fictitious and wouldn’t stand up to investigation. Initially, you appeared at Caifeng Tower disguised as the Carefree Daoist merely to build the small Buddha hall under the pretense of Daoist authority. The small Buddha hall was said to ward off evil, but in reality, it was a place to practice dark arts.”

The person could barely maintain their composure now, their sleeve still covering their lips in pretense, but they had long forgotten to cough.

Lin Chengyou’s eyes deepened with amusement: “As for why you chose this location, it’s because the famous Seven-Star Guiding Seal has various restrictions, the first rule being that the array can only be set where the deceased breathed their last. The Tang couple died in the tower, so you could only conduct the ritual here to control their souls. Am I right, Master Peng?”

The lamp wick popped, illuminating the oily sheen on He Mingsheng’s forehead. He gazed quietly at Lin Chengyou, his eyes as still as stagnant water.

Lin Chengyou looked at him with complex emotions: “If I’m not mistaken, before harming this couple, you had already planned to torture them with the Seven-Star Guiding Seal. Shortly after their deaths, you deliberately lured many spirits to the tower. Hearing the tower was haunted, local people wouldn’t dare rent it. When the time was right, you posed as a merchant from Luoyang and took over the tower. Since you were practicing dark arts, you naturally couldn’t involve real Daoists, so while renovating, you pretended to seek out masters.”

He paused, then said with a cold smile: “Then one day, you appeared as the Carefree Daoist, using the identity of a master to guide the craftsmen in building the small Buddha hall according to your wishes. Although your disguise skills were excellent, the fake madams had sharp eyes. Fearing they would notice something amiss about you, you deliberately arranged for them to be away before you came, which is why so few in the tower had seen the Carefree Daoist.”

“Tell me—” Mingsheng suddenly spoke, “how did you discover the Seven-Star Guiding Seal in the small Buddha hall?”

Teng Yuyi’s scalp tingled. Strangely, though the person’s appearance hadn’t changed, their demeanor and tone seemed to transform into another person entirely. The merchant’s typical craftiness had vanished, replaced by a dignified bearing. When speaking, they were neither hurried nor slow, with great waves seemingly concealed beneath their calm voice.

Some days ago when entering the tower, she had accidentally seen the account book in He Mingsheng’s hands. She remembered finding it strange then that a profit-driven merchant could write such beautiful characters. The handwriting was elegant and powerful, clearly not achieved overnight.

To avoid suspicion, it would have been better to disguise even this aspect, but He Mingsheng hadn’t done so. Even though this person was accustomed to disguising everything, there were still some things in the depths of their heart they were unwilling to give up.

“There’s no harm in telling you,” Lin Chengyou tossed a seal in his hand. “My two junior disciples found some faint marks on the floor tiles that looked like the first seal of the Seven-Star Guiding Seal. After examining it, I suspected someone had performed rituals in the small Buddha hall.”

He Mingsheng slowly nodded: “So that’s it. That tile was hidden in a corner under the incense table, and the mark was faint. I had planned to have it replaced in a few days, but it seems I didn’t get the chance.”

Lin Chengyou smiled coldly: “You were already cautious enough. Judging from the terrible state of the Tang couple’s spirits, you had been torturing them for some time. After performing so many rituals, you only left that one flaw. If my two junior disciples hadn’t spent an entire night cleaning, it probably wouldn’t have been discovered. But speaking of this, Master He, don’t you understand? Compared to this seal, another oversight was far more fatal.”

He Mingsheng calmly cupped his hands: “Please enlighten me, Young Master.”

Lin Chengyou smiled slightly: “When the craftsmen were working, they accidentally exceeded your specified depth and didn’t tell you, fearing they wouldn’t get paid. You didn’t know there was a hundred-year array hidden below and never took precautions. When the two demons escaped from the array half a year later, it was too late. It was because of hunting these demons that I stayed at Caifeng Tower. If someone other than me had investigated this case, with all your various techniques, perhaps the truth would never have come to light.”

He Mingsheng looked somewhat regretful: “I can only blame myself for focusing too much on dark arts these years, making my orthodox cultivation too shallow. If I had detected the demons hidden below earlier, perhaps I would have waited until subduing the two demons before acting. If I had just avoided this array, I wouldn’t have aroused the Young Master’s suspicion.”

Lin Chengyou gazed meaningfully at He Mingsheng: “Actually, you hid yourself well enough. When your former neighbors tried to identify you, no one could recognize you. But that’s not surprising—your nose was severely injured, disfiguring your face, and your build is completely different from before.”

He Mingsheng: “Now I understand why you suddenly called me to the garden this afternoon. So the Young Master had specially brought people to identify me.”

“After killing so many people, have you never felt any regret?”

He Mingsheng smiled faintly: “Never.”

“Even if you had a grudge against the Tang couple, why kill Qingzhi and Yaohuang?”

He Mingsheng let out a long sigh: “They were corrupted at heart. Their continued existence would only harm others. Rather than let more people suffer in the future, it was better for me to eliminate these two sources of misfortune.”

Lin Chengyou found this statement intriguing and crossed his arms: “Oh? Please explain.”

“Wasn’t Yaohuang evil enough to destroy Gekin’s face merely out of jealousy? Wasn’t Qingzhi evil enough to conspire with her sister to harm their foster mother? After discovering my secret, wasn’t she evil enough to blackmail me?” He Mingsheng shook his head and sighed. “After her disfigurement, Gekin wept day and night, yet Yaohuang and Qingzhi showed not the slightest remorse. To harbor such malicious thoughts at such a young age—they would only grow more vicious in their pursuit of profit.”

Lin Chengyou: “So you knew all along it was them who harmed Gekin?”

He Mingsheng’s lips pressed tightly together: “Nothing in this tower could escape my notice.”

“And how did Qingzhi come to blackmail you?”

“That’s quite a long story.” He Mingsheng shook his sleeve.

For many years, He Mingsheng had been searching for the Tang couple’s whereabouts, from the south to the north, expending countless efforts. Fortune favors the persistent—about a year ago, he finally discovered their location.

One day, he disguised himself as a merchant and came to Caifeng Tower to buy clothes. As luck would have it, the Tang couple wasn’t in the shop, so he made excuses to ask the shop assistants about their daily routines. Just then, a clumsy servant accidentally spilled tea on his shoes.

It was early autumn, and He Mingsheng was wearing only light cloth shoes. The scalding tea soaked through to his feet.

In pain, He Mingsheng hurried to leave. The nearby assistant, terrified and at a loss, could only report this to Rong Shi in the back. Rong Shi said to quickly find a doctor and had the assistant take a new pair of socks from the counter for the customer.

He Mingsheng said there was no need for a doctor, and after taking the socks, he left without even changing his shoes.

After leaving, he carefully walked to a secluded corner to change his socks, unaware that Rong Shi had witnessed this from upstairs.

Concerned about offending an important customer, Rong Shi had been watching from above as the guest left, only to notice a bowl-sized red birthmark on He Mingsheng’s foot. She was startled.

Rong Shi was from Yue Prefecture and had lived at Taozhi Ferry before coming to Chang’an. In her memory, the ferry, with its endless vista of water meeting sky, was a wonderful place for entertainment. During the height of summer, young lords and ladies would often come to play together. Among the young men, there was one peculiar sixteen or seventeen-year-old who never went into the water, only sitting on the bank with a book.

Rong Shi heard others call him the “Peng family bookworm” and say he would go to Chang’an for the imperial examinations. Some said such a person might become a minister in the future—how could he play with commoners? There was all sorts of gossip.

The eldest Peng son ignored his companions’ teasing and continued reading alone. Once, someone mischievously pushed him into the water. After swimming up, the first thing he did wasn’t to curse but to look for his shoes. He quickly found them and, smiling, put them on. Though his movements were remarkably fast, Rong Shi still caught sight of his birthmark.

That birthmark was identical to the one on the merchant’s foot downstairs, and even the way he hid to put on his shoes was the same.

Rong Shi felt chilled to the bone because she couldn’t see this person in Chang’an.

The eldest Peng son had suffered a tragic fate—ten years ago, he and his parents and sister had been murdered.

Moreover, the eldest Peng son had been as thin as a bamboo pole, while this merchant was extraordinarily stout. From facial features to bearing, there wasn’t a single similarity. But Rong Shi still felt something was wrong—could there be such similar birthmarks in the world?

While Rong Shi was pondering this, Qingzhi came to the shop looking for her. Qingzhi had been trying to find news of her sister for years, and knowing Rong Shi was also from Yue Prefecture, she often snuck out to see her.

When Rong Shi asked if Qingzhi knew about the Peng family’s past, Qingzhi, though also from Yue Prefecture, had always lived in the entertainment district and giggled that she didn’t know as Rong Shi described the family’s tragic fate.

Not long after, Rong Shi went to a nearby fruit shop to buy dried apricots for Madam Rong, but unexpectedly saw He Mingsheng again in the crowd. She quickly asked Qingzhi beside her if she had seen this man before, and Qingzhi naturally said she hadn’t.

Due to this delay, when Rong Shi and Qingzhi returned with the apricots, they were later than usual. Qi Shi berated Rong Shi, and Qingzhi foolishly defended her, saying Rong Shi hadn’t deliberately lingered outside but had seen an old acquaintance, adding that the person was surnamed Peng and also from Yue Prefecture.

Qi Shi’s face changed immediately, and she grabbed Qingzhi to question her further. Fearing Qi Shi’s abuse, Rong Shi scolded Qingzhi for talking nonsense. Confused, Qingzhi quickly changed her story, saying the surname was Cheng. Conveniently, a nearby charcoal shop owner was surnamed Cheng, though this family had come to Chang’an more than twenty years ago. Rong Shi claimed she had seen Madam Cheng on the road, barely managing to deceive Qi Shi, and while Qi Shi was distracted, told Qingzhi to leave quickly.

After that, Qi Shi’s abuse of Rong Shi intensified, and before long, unable to bear Qi Shi’s torment, Rong Shi committed suicide by jumping into a well.

He Mingsheng knew nothing of this interaction between Rong Shi and Qingzhi. He successfully murdered the Tang couple and took over the silk shop months later.

The day the silk shop became Caifeng Tower, Wo Ji brought her daughters to seek refuge. Qingzhi, squeezed among the crowd, immediately recognized He Mingsheng. According to Rong Shi, this person called Peng Dalang had died ten years ago, yet here he was in Chang’an, calling himself He Mingsheng.

Qingzhi thought Rong Shi must have been mistaken but couldn’t help watching He Mingsheng’s every move.

After months of observation without noting anything amiss, one day last month, Qingzhi was ordered to deliver something to He Mingsheng’s room, arriving just as he was checking accounts with the purchaser. Perhaps too absorbed in his work, when signing his name, he accidentally wrote the wrong character.

Where he should have written “He” on the ledger, he wrote “Peng” instead. Although He Mingsheng remained composed and quickly corrected it, Qingzhi was startled. No matter how confused someone might be, they wouldn’t write their surname wrong. Could it be that Rong Shi hadn’t been mistaken—was the master really that Peng Dalang?

To further confirm her suspicions, Qingzhi began creating opportunities. Once, encountering He Mingsheng in the corridor, she suddenly called out: “Peng Dalang.”

As expected, He Mingsheng’s expression changed instantly.

Qingzhi hurriedly left, pretending she had misspoken, but inside she was overjoyed. Afterward, whenever He Mingsheng was present, she would deliberately mention Rong shi, and not just Rong shi, but Yue Prefecture as well.

At the time, He Mingsheng was secretly setting up arrays to deal with the Tang couple’s souls, never expecting Qingzhi to appear at such a moment.

As the saying goes, “If you want to keep something unknown, don’t do it in the first place.” Though he thought everything was flawless, heaven seemed to be playing a joke on him. Everything a person has done will eventually be revealed in unexpected ways.

He Mingsheng began to deal with Qingzhi, only to discover she didn’t know much, and her word alone couldn’t prove he was Peng Dalang. He neither wanted to be blackmailed by her nor create additional problems, so he planned to find an excuse to drive her out.

Qingzhi seemed to see through He Mingsheng’s intentions. When he had someone call her to the front tower for questioning, she asked him directly: “Master, do you know Qi shi?”

She said she wasn’t surprised Rong shi remembered the Peng family’s affairs, but was curious about Qi shi’s reaction when hearing “Peng from Yue Prefecture” a year ago. Qi shi wasn’t from Yue Prefecture, so why had she been so alarmed?

“Master, you used to visit the silk shop often then, did you also know Qi shi? Everyone says her death was somewhat strange. Should I report this to the authorities?”

He Mingsheng immediately understood—this Qingzhi was a natural blackmailer. Although she didn’t understand the whole story, through some keen intuition, she had perceived the darkest part of his heart.

In that instant, He Mingsheng resolved to eliminate Qingzhi. He gave her several taels of gold as requested but secretly began following her. Just as he was looking for an opportunity to strike, the two demons broke loose.

“After you moved into Caifeng Tower, Qingzhi felt she had the backing and began blackmailing me more intensely,” Mingsheng smiled bitterly. “Caifeng Tower was full of people, with even the small Buddha hall housing several Daoists. She thought I wouldn’t dare act rashly, but didn’t expect I had already secretly cast dark arts on her. That night when I asked her to come out, she probably felt safe because the well was near the small Buddha hall, certain I wouldn’t dare do anything to her, so she went to the well without worry.”

“When a person’s greed reaches its peak, they often reveal their foolishness,” he sighed. “If Qingzhi hadn’t escalated her blackmail, perhaps I would have spared her. But there are no ‘ifs’—she deserved her death. As for her sister who disfigured others, she was equally deserving of death.”

He made this conclusion calmly, his tone as casual as if discussing last night’s rain.

“So that’s how it was.” Lin Chengyou made a thoughtful sound.

He looked up at He Mingsheng: “If you had left Chang’an after killing the Tang couple, none of these complications would have arisen. But for you, merely taking their lives wasn’t enough to quench your hatred.”

He Mingsheng’s lips twitched almost imperceptibly.

“You hated them deeply, didn’t you?” Lin Chengyou observed every change in his face. “Especially Qi shi. If I’m not mistaken, she was your aunt.”

He Mingsheng’s body swayed, and intense hatred burst from his eyes. His previously calm face was instantly filled with killing intent.

He laughed sinisterly: “I was but a dog or swine, unworthy of living.”

With each word he uttered, his face showed more satisfaction.

“My greatest regret these years was letting those two beasts live for ten years, three months, and twenty days more.”

Lin Chengyou stopped prompting He Mingsheng to speak and simply watched him quietly.

He Mingsheng stood motionless, apparently lost in memories, sharp angles appearing on his cheeks as he clearly clenched his jaw tightly.

Suddenly, as if recalling a particular moment, his previously fierce features relaxed, and a desolate expression slowly appeared on his face.

When he spoke again, his calm voice carried a hint of bitterness.

“My surname was originally Peng,” he raised his eyes to gaze steadily at Lin Chengyou. “My name was Peng Yugui.”

Lin Chengyou paused briefly, then smiled faintly: “‘A piece of jade from Kunshan, a branch of osmanthus from Guilin’—a beautiful name.”

“The Young Master makes fun of me.” Peng Yugui smiled bitterly. “This was the name my father gave me. He hoped that one day I would succeed in the imperial examinations, so he chose this name. I had a sister, her name was Baojiao, also given by my father. ‘Baojiao’ meant she was his heart’s beloved.”

His brows trembled, and he suddenly closed his eyes, but his tears were completely beyond control, falling silently.

Lin Chengyou felt a mix of emotions, then suddenly heard the rustle of clothing behind him and realized Teng Yuyi seemed to be moved by the story.

“My father was a pedantic scholar,” Peng Yugui slowly opened his eyes, his expression somewhat numb. “He spent his whole life studying books and ultimately achieved nothing. In others’ eyes, he wasn’t very successful, but we all knew he was the best kind of good person there could be. He ran a village school, taking in children from poor families. When it came time to collect tuition, more than half the children couldn’t pay, but the father didn’t mind at all. He continued teaching wholeheartedly, running the private school for years, always spending more than he earned.”

“My mother never seemed to know how to complain. To supplement our household income, she spent her days sewing and washing clothes for others. Whatever money she managed to save was spent on us siblings. As our savings gradually depleted and life became increasingly difficult, Father felt sorry for Mother and made the hard decision to close the private school. Hearing that fishing could provide a living, he wrote and painted for others during the day and secretly learned to fish at night.”

He smiled bitterly: “Even though we lived frugally, our family was always happy together. There were many wealthy households at the ferry crossing, but my sister and I never envied other children. My mother was especially good at making ‘cold noodles.’ In summer, she would mix locust leaf juice into the dough, put the noodles in well water to rinse them, then season them with vegetarian sauce for us to eat. The cold noodles were emerald green, and my sister and I could each eat a big bowl. Mother would wipe my sister’s mouth clean, then smile and wipe mine. As for my father, he was determined that I should study well. Whenever he had time, he would teach me to write characters stroke by stroke. After I learned, I would teach my sister.”

Peng Yugui opened his palm, tears glistening in his eyes. The calluses on his knuckles remained—traces left from years of diligent practice. His parents left him nothing in this world except these calluses on his hands.

All these years, he couldn’t bear to put down his writing brush, fearing time would smooth away the calluses. If these disappeared too, then the last reminder his parents left him would be gone.

“I was learning to write the character ‘er’ in the study when my sister was born. I wrote her name on paper and told her: you are Baojiao’er. She filled an entire sheet with the character ‘er’ and ran around the room laughing.” As Peng Yugui spoke, a gentle expression appeared on his face, making him look considerably more serene.

The people in the room listened intently, no one willing to interrupt Peng Yugui.

“One year, after father saved a wealthy merchant, our family’s situation improved considerably. The merchant was superstitious about divination and after being rescued, said it was supposed to be his year of great misfortune—’at best losing all property, at worst losing his life’—only by meeting a benefactor could he turn misfortune into fortune. He firmly believed my father was his benefactor and insisted on giving father fifty taels of gold. Given my father’s previous nature, he would never have accepted such a huge sum, but perhaps because our family had suffered too much in recent years, or perhaps thinking of my prospects, he eventually accepted it. It was these fifty taels of gold that attracted those wolves.”

Peng Yugui clenched his fists, his face suddenly darkening.

“People often say ‘accumulate virtue and benevolence, accumulate evil and suffer the consequences.’ Do good, because ‘good and evil will eventually be rewarded.'” He sneered, “But I think these words are all lies, because my parents, such good people, couldn’t escape the harm of evil people, while Tang Yunde and Qi Cui’e, such wolves, lived well for so many years.”

Speaking of his indignation, he couldn’t help clutching at his collar, touching the cold silver chain on his neck, only then realizing he was already in official custody.

He was stunned for a moment, then threw back his head and laughed, his laughter broken and dry, full of unspeakable irony. After laughing for quite a while, his voice gradually deepened, finally turning into a cold snort from his nose.

He said expressionlessly: “My mother was a sentimental person. Ever since settling in Yue Prefecture, she often had her father write letters to her elder and younger sisters in Guanzhong. Tang Yunde and Qi Cui’e weren’t living too badly then and occasionally wrote back. After several years, there was a famine in Guanzhong, and these wolves couldn’t survive in their hometown anymore, so they came out to seek refuge with relatives. The elder sister of the Qi family had died of illness the previous year, so they could only come to Yue Prefecture.

“Mother was naturally happy to receive their letter and quickly tidied up a bedroom. One evening more than a month later, Tang Yunde and Qi Cui’e arrived with other refugees. My father met them at the ferry crossing and brought these wolves to our mountain estate.”

As Peng Yugui spoke and recalled the circumstances then, hatred slowly climbed up from his chest, and his face grew increasingly fierce.

After the Tang couple arrived, they were surprised by the family’s prosperity. That night, during their welcome dinner, Tang Yunde deliberately questioned their father while he was drunk. Father treated them with complete sincerity and was naturally without a guard.

When the couple heard how the Peng family had suddenly acquired such a fortune, they became envious. After staying for just a few days, Qi Cui’e said they planned to settle there and make a living selling fine silks, but being penniless, they wanted to borrow some money from her sister and brother-in-law first.

Father gave Tang Yunde ten taels of gold without hesitation, but the Tang couple grew greedy and set their sights on the remaining gold.

That very night, Tang Yunde began persuading their father to do business with them, saying that on their journey south, they had seen that Guanzhong most lacked fine silks. If they could sell Yue Prefecture’s silk gauze in the north, they would surely win the favor of nobles in both capitals. Once the business was established, they would never worry about food and clothing again. However, there were many people in this trade, and to stand out, they would need to invest a large sum of money.

Father knew nothing about business and flatly refused. Tang Yunde and Qi Cui’e wouldn’t give up, plying father with more sweet talk, but father still wouldn’t agree.

Two days later, it happened to be Qi Cui’e’s birthday. Tang Yunde and Qi Cui’e said they had been confined to the mountain since arriving and today was a rare opportunity to go out, but they didn’t know what good places there were in Yue Prefecture.

Recalling this point, intense regret appeared in Peng Yugui’s eyes.

He was only sixteen then, and in his eyes, his uncle was warm and kind, his aunt straightforward and lively. Being from far away, he naturally felt close to them. Hearing this, he eagerly suggested that there was a nearby lotus pond, and they could go boat riding at night to pick lotus pods.

His sister clapped and shouted with joy at hearing this, father had no objection, so mother happily prepared plenty of food and wine, and that evening the whole family took a boat to see the lotus flowers.

But halfway there, Tang Yunde and Qi Cui’e brought up the business partnership again.

Father firmly refused, saying the Peng family would never engage in commerce.

Peng Yugui was playing with his sister by the boat’s rail at the time and, hearing this, knew father was worried that doing business would ruin his son’s future prospects.

The court had many restrictions on merchants’ sons in official recruitment. If the Peng family became merchants, it could very likely affect his future imperial examinations.

Tang Yunde and Qi Cui’e tried to persuade him for quite a while, but father wouldn’t agree no matter what. Seeing the father’s face showing displeasure, the Tang couple had to drop the subject.

Mother, fearing the family would become too estranged, hurriedly urged them to drink, but before long, Qi Cui’e brought up another topic, saying that since brother-in-law wouldn’t do business with them, perhaps he could introduce them to that wealthy merchant who had given him the gold.

The merchant was a local magnate—even the smallest crumbs from his wealth would be enough for them to start their business. Of course, this would require my brother-in-law’s involvement. As the merchant’s lifesaver, his request would surely be granted.

Father flew into a rage, asking what kind of person they took him for. Such groveling things they could do themselves, but they shouldn’t drag down the Peng family’s reputation.

Qi Cui’e’s smile froze on her face. She had already deeply resented her father’s stubbornness, and after being berated by him, she raised her voice too. She said father wouldn’t agree to this or that, clearly looking down on them for being poor—if they weren’t so destitute, the father would probably show a different face. Her words grew increasingly unpleasant, each sentence stabbing at father’s heart.

Their argument frightened Baojiao to tears. Peng Yugui wanted to carry his sister far away but worried the argument between their parents and aunt and uncle would only worsen.

Suddenly he heard father say angrily: if they thought him such a petty person, they might as well not take the ten taels of gold either. As he spoke, he shielded mother and left the cabin. As soon as these words fell, Tang Yunde abruptly stood up from the table, caught up to father in a few steps, and violently pushed him from behind.

Father was frail, while Tang Yunde was tall and strong. The deck was already wet, and he used his full strength. Father, caught off guard, stumbled forward, his temple hitting precisely on a raised iron lock on the deck.

Mother screamed, Madam Qi hurried out at the sound, and Tang Yunde, seemingly still not satisfied, continued cursing something.

Peng Yugui ran to help father, only to discover a huge gash on his head, bright red blood gushing out, instantly covering father’s entire face. Checking father’s breathing, he found it extremely weak. His heart sank, and he shouted angrily: “Why did you harm him?!”

Mother also saw father’s grave condition and began wailing: “Murder! Murder!”

Madam Qi was frozen in fear, and Tang Yunde also panicked, having not expected his angry action to cause such serious injury.

The boatman came running at the sound and, seeing the situation, was at a loss: “Madam, should we report this to the authorities?”

Mother’s hands were covered in blood as she desperately pressed a handkerchief against father’s head wound, crying brokenly: “Quick—quickly return to shore and find Doctor Huang. Any later and my husband might not survive!”

The boatman grew more anxious: “Doctor Huang has gone to the city and won’t be at the ferry crossing for days. What should we do? The next nearest doctor is in Chunxing Village, but that’s more than an hour away.”

Peng Yugui’s heart twisted into a knot. Father’s bleeding wouldn’t stop—forget an hour, he wouldn’t last half an hour.

He urgently said: “Let’s get to shore first! Hurry!”

While they were speaking, Madam Qi had maintained a nervous, uneasy expression, but Tang Yunde’s demeanor grew increasingly strange. The boatman nodded anxiously and turned to run back, but suddenly Tang Yunde bent down, grabbed the chain from the deck, and struck the boatman heavily in the face.

Caught completely off guard, the boatman fell sprawling. Tang Yunde rushed forward and followed with a second, third, and fourth blow…

Peng Yugui was stunned. The sound was indescribably dull, like drumsticks beating a broken drum. When he realized he would be Tang Yunde’s next target, he quickly pulled mother backward.

“Have you gone mad!” he said trembling.

But Tang Yunde had clearly seen red and charged straight at them.

Behind them was the river. Staying on the boat, they might not be able to fight Tang Yunde, but to escape meant jumping into the water. Yet Baojiao was still standing behind Tang Yunde, clearly terrified by the scene, crying loudly while reaching out to mother and Peng Yugui with both arms.

In this moment of hesitation, Tang Yunde had already reached them. Mother shouted fiercely: “You madman! Cui’e, stop him quickly!”

Peng Yugui lowered his shoulder and rammed into Tang Yunde’s chest. The blow was both urgent and heavy—Tang Yunde groaned in pain and fell heavily to one side.

Peng Yugui pulled mother past Tang Yunde and ran in one breath to Baojiao’s side. Just as he was about to bend down and pick up his sister, his head suddenly exploded with intense pain.

His mind went blank. Tang Yunde couldn’t have caught up so quickly—the one who struck must be—

Mother cried heart-rendingly: “You poisonous woman! I’ll fight you to the death!”

Qi Cui’e screamed: “Tang Yunde, help me quickly, she’s going to bite me to death!”

Peng Yugui desperately tried to stand, but his head felt like it weighed a thousand jin. His scalp was wet and cool, with something hot seeping out. Though he managed to get up, his legs were too weak to stand.

He heard Mother’s piercing cry: “Dalang, quickly take Baojiao and run!”

It was this shout that sparked the remaining strength in Peng Yugui’s body. His arms reached forward—he couldn’t look back—he hugged his wailing sister and staggered to his feet.

He had no choice now; he needed to quickly find something suitable to fight back with. He was injured, and the boat was still far from shore—if they jumped into the water, both siblings would die.

As he stumbled around looking for something like an iron tool, familiar dull thuds came from behind: thump, thump, thump, thump, each blow seeming to strike directly into his brain.

Peng Yugui’s heart violently contracted. Baojiao screamed beside his ear—whether from terror or nausea, he couldn’t tell. He grabbed a broken piece of a wine jar by his feet and roared madly: “I’ll fight you to the death!”

Mother’s head was already a bloody mess, but her arms still desperately clutched Tang Yunde and Madam Qi’s legs. Peng Yugui’s blood rushed to his head as he charged at Tang Yunde like a wild beast.

By the time he too was beaten down by Tang Yunde and Qi Cui’e, he could barely see clearly. His nose was in excruciating pain as if the bone had broken.

He vaguely felt Baojiao’s small hands touching his face as she sobbed breathlessly: “Brother, brother…”

Suddenly those little hands left his face—someone had lifted Baojiao away from him.

Baojiao’s legs thrashed powerfully above his head, and she cried even louder.

Qi Cui’e said anxiously: “What should we do? If this child keeps crying like this, she’ll attract someone sooner or later.”

Another person dragged Peng Yugui toward the boat’s edge. He barely managed to lift his head and said with his last breath: “Please… spare Baojiao…”

That person remained silent. Peng Yugui instinctively dug his fingernails into the deck, scraping so hard they left harsh scratches along the way.

“She’s still small…” he moaned, “…she doesn’t… know anything…”

“Please, please spare her…”

“She won’t… remember…”

Tang Yunde’s movements paused, seeming to hesitate.

Qi Cui’e, noticing Tang Yunde’s softening heart, stammered: “We’ve—we’ve come this far, what madness are you thinking now? Never mind that this child is old enough to remember, even if she weren’t, who around here doesn’t know Baojiao? If we keep this child with us, everyone will know we harmed the Peng family. You—you hurry up, I’m—I’m scared.”

Tang Yunde finally left Peng Yugui and walked toward Qi Cui’e. Peng Yugui realized what Tang Yunde was about to do and trembled in terror, trying to grab one of Tang Yunde’s legs but was easily shaken off.

Baojiao’s crying grew closer as Tang Yunde carried her over.

She wept pitifully: “Brother… brother…”

Peng Yugui was so terrified he felt like vomiting. Even immediate death wouldn’t be more desperate than this moment. He flopped helplessly on the deck like a dying fish, just hoping Tang Yunde and Qi Cui’e still had a last shred of conscience.

“Aunt…”

Baojiao seemed to sense something and cried more shrilly: “Brother!”

Peng Yugui used every ounce of strength he had, cursing that each movement brought a surge of thick blood to his throat. How could a critically injured person control their body with will alone? When he finally managed to move to Tang Yunde’s feet: “Please, spare…”

Before he could finish speaking, there was a splash, and Baojiao’s childish crying abruptly stopped.

A cool mist sprayed his forehead—the splashing water.

Peng Yugui’s ears went silent as if a sharp blade had pierced his heart, his internal organs torn apart in an instant. He completely lost his mind.

His mouth gaped wide, making gurgling sounds in his throat. Each breath made his body shudder in pain. He wept silently, desperately crawling toward the boat’s edge.

Baojiao was only five years old! He screamed in his heart: Heaven, please open your eyes, please give me a way out, take my life instead, just let her live.

Tang Yunde seemingly hadn’t expected Peng Yugui to suddenly burst forth with such strength and hurriedly chased after him. Before he could deliver another fatal blow to Peng Yugui’s head, Peng Yugui plunged headfirst into the river.

When Peng Yugui regained consciousness, he found himself lying on an unfamiliar riverbank. Stars sparkled overhead, waves lapped at his ears, and the night wind brought distant Buddhist chants. Across the water, he could faintly see mountains standing in the moonlight.

He tried to move slightly, immediately triggering intense head pain.

Could he still be alive? He tried to determine where he was. His nose and the back of his head throbbed with pain, while his torso was numb. When he managed to move slightly, he discovered something in the crook of his left arm.

He strained his neck to look down and, in the starlight, saw a black, wet head.

His heart sank. With great effort, he turned over and discovered it was his sister Baojiao. Though his arm had lost all feeling, it still held her tightly. Baojiao’s body had already stiffened. Her small form was curled in his arm, her face so peaceful, just like when she used to sleep sweetly in her mother’s arms.

Peng Yugui’s lips began to tremble. He hugged his sister’s cold body tighter and began to weep heart-rendingly.

***

When Peng Yugui next awoke, half a month had passed. Gravely injured and nearly dead, he had been saved by a young novice monk from a nearby mountain temple.

The temple had only two monks. The old monk was compassionate—not only did he take in Peng Yugui, but he also buried little Baojiao’s body.

The two monks were pure-hearted, and suspecting Peng Yugui was being hunted by enemies, they never told anyone of his whereabouts. It took Peng Yugui a full month before he could leave his bed. Besides the head wound, his nasal bone was also broken.

During his recovery, he gradually heard about that horrifying family massacre.

The Tang couple had escaped fortunately, their family’s wealth completely plundered. Scholar Peng and his wife had died tragically, and the Peng siblings had no possibility of survival.

The county magistrate was corrupt and indolent. Seeing that the victims were mere commoners, they showed little interest. After a month of fruitless investigation, they declared the Peng family had been killed by marauding refugees and hastily closed the case.

Peng Yugui listened numbly, knowing that even if he went to the authorities to seek justice, they would only perfunctorily dismiss it. The Tang couple had fled Yue Prefecture, and the authorities would never go to the trouble of sending people to other regions to pursue them. Moreover, in the vast sea of humanity, if the Tang couple changed their appearance, perhaps they would never have been caught.

Peng Yugui couldn’t wait—he had to kill these beasts with his own hands. Fearing his whereabouts would be revealed, he begged the old monk and young novice to keep his secret. Understanding his difficulties, they readily agreed.

The day he left the temple, Peng Yugui stood silently before his sister’s grave for a long time, taking out a rattle drum he had made at the temple and bending to place it before her grave.

After weeping bitterly, he left the small, lonely grave among the green mountains and valleys, looking back every few steps as he descended the mountain.

“These years, I searched for the Tang couple’s whereabouts while finding ways to make a living,” Peng Yugui’s eyes were filled with bloodshot veins. “Not long after leaving Yue Prefecture, I fortunately met a Luoyang merchant named He En. That year, he had just lost his beloved son, and seeing that I was clever, honest, and somewhat educated, he adopted me as his son and let me join his business. While with the He family, I met a remarkable martial artist. Seeing his extraordinary skills, I found ways to become his disciple and secretly learned dark arts through years of bitter practice. Five years ago, He En’s health steadily declined, and seeing my talent for business, on his deathbed he had me take his dead son’s name, officially making me a member of the He family. From then on, I changed my name to He Mingsheng.”

Lin Chengyou felt complex emotions. So that was it. When he had sent people to Luoyang to investigate the “Carefree Daoist’s” background, they had also investigated He Mingsheng’s identity, but looking at the He family’s household registry, He Mingsheng appeared completely legitimate, so he hadn’t investigated further.

“By the time I found the Tang couple, it was already two years ago,” Peng Yugui’s mouth split into a demonic smile. “After committing such evil deeds, they hadn’t suffered any retribution. Since Heaven wouldn’t act, I would!”

Peng Yugui’s broken nose had already disfigured him, and over the years he had deliberately gained weight. When he first encountered Tang Yunde at an inn in Chang’an’s outskirts, Tang Yunde didn’t recognize him at all.

Sitting at a nearby table, he overheard Tang Yunde talking with his servants and learned that Tang Yunde went to Yue Prefecture every year to buy silk gauze. Not only that, but Tang Yunde also frequently visited Taozhi Ferry. His newly taken concubine, Madam Rong, was a beauty he had accidentally met at Taozhi Ferry.

After hearing this, Peng Yugui wanted to eat his flesh and sleep in his skin. It seemed that because Tang Yunde hadn’t delivered that fatal blow years ago, he had always been uneasy, going to Taozhi Ferry every year just to inquire about the whereabouts of Peng Dalang. If he learned that Peng was still alive, he would surely strike first.

Following Tang Yunde for several days, Peng Yugui gradually summoned the most vicious ghosts from nearby to haunt him. Every night, Tang Yunde was tormented by various grotesque vengeful spirits, causing him to babble incoherently.

From Tang Yunde’s ravings, Peng Yugui learned that the reason he feared his wife was because Qi Cui’e had written down their past deeds and hidden them somewhere. If Tang Yunde dared to cross her, she would let the world know what kind of person he was.

When Tang Yunde was already confused by the torment, Peng Yugui used his art to write the bloody character “Peng” on the bottom of Tang Yunde’s cup. As expected, Tang Yunde was terrified out of his wits. He abandoned his silk-buying trip to Yue Prefecture and fled back to Chang’an that very night. Tang Yunde had developed migraines from years of fine living, and being haunted by fierce ghosts day and night, he died within two months.

After dealing with Tang Yunde, it was Qi Cui’e’s turn, which led to her hanging herself and that confession letter filled with “I was but a dog or swine.”

“But how could just killing them be enough?” Peng Yugui’s gaze slowly swept across everyone’s faces. “Letting them die like that, wasn’t it too easy for them? What would you do if you were me?!”

Everyone remained silent because no one could provide an answer. Lin Chengyou stared mutely at Peng Yugui, his expression far more complex than usual.

Though Peng Yugui’s tone was questioning, he had his answer.

“Of course, this was far from enough. For me, the moment the Tang couple died was just the beginning of my revenge.” Peng Yugui’s nostrils flared as he smiled with pleasure. “I captured these wolves’ souls and tortured them every night. They knelt before me like mud, begging for mercy.

“I asked Tang Yunde why he wouldn’t spare us back then. I grabbed Qi Cui’e’s hair and asked if she had felt even a shred of remorse all these years. My mother treated them well, my father gave them gold to help them through difficulties. Baojiao was only five years old, calling them ‘Uncle, Aunt’ until the very end. When they threw her into the water, did they feel even a moment’s hesitation?!”

His eyes bled with tears as he appeared to lose his mind.

Along with his accusations, the night wind began to carry wailing sounds, as if someone were crying mournfully.

“Thankfully such sophisticated dark arts exist.” Peng Yugui’s eyes glittered with tears as he giggled strangely. “Thanks to the Seven-Star Guiding Seal, I could torture them at my leisure. I dug out their tongues and cut off their hands. No matter how many times they reincarnate in the future, they’ll be born incomplete. It’s a pity my skills were inadequate—I didn’t know there were demons sealed below. Otherwise, with just one more time, I could have cut off their feet too.”

With each sentence, Peng Yugui’s fierce features relaxed a bit more. By the end, he looked at his own hands with a somewhat lost expression: “After the final time, I could have stopped…”

“Could you have stopped?” someone spoke up.

Peng Yugui froze, slowly raising his eyes.

“Your targets were the Tang couple, but you started using dark arts to harm others too, didn’t you?” Lin Chengyou looked at Peng Yugui thoughtfully. “You used dark arts to kill Qingzhi and Heart-Rotting Grass to kill Yaohuang. Juan’er Li merely happened to see your disguised appearance, yet you marked her for death. First, you hid those poisoned needles, and tonight you planned to cut out her heart under the pretense of corpse evil. If you had succeeded, your cruelty and heartlessness would have nearly matched the Tang couple of those years.”

“No!” Peng Yugui’s facial muscles twitched. “I’m different from those beasts. I had my reasons.”

Lin Chengyou paused, his lips slowly revealing a trace of mockery.

“I had my reasons!” Peng Yugui’s gaze scattered as he struggled to maintain composure. “Qingzhi and Yaohuang deserved to die. Juan’er Li—Juan’er Li—if she revealed what she saw, you would have traced it back to me quickly. I didn’t want to face justice because then I couldn’t return to Yue Prefecture.”

He said dejectedly: “I want to return to Yue Prefecture, to Taozhi Ferry, to the place where our family once lived.”

Looking at Peng Yugui’s fierce face, Lin Chengyou felt a secret sorrow. Dark arts could truly corrupt one’s nature—once tainted, no one could maintain their original character. The moment Peng Yugui achieved his revenge, the gates of hell opened to him. After the first kill, there would be a second, a third… From then on, whenever his interests were threatened, Peng Yugui would habitually resort to killing to solve problems.

“Everyone in this world has their reasons,” Lin Chengyou sighed. “But when you turn your blade on innocent people, you can never return to Taozhi Ferry.”

Peng Yugui’s gaze turned fierce. His right palm suddenly flipped over, his fingertips becoming silvery bright, shooting out a long thread like silver silk.

The thread shot straight at Lin Chengyou’s throat, but he neither dodged nor avoided it. Teng Yuyi’s pupils contracted—she recognized this thing, as fine as rain but extraordinarily sharp, deadly to the touch.

“Be careful!” She pulled Lin Chengyou aside. “This thing can kill!”

But Lin Chengyou was already prepared. He tilted his head left while his right hand’s silver chain snapped, striking back toward the window. Then he ducked, rolling into the room with Teng Yuyi.

Peng Yugui grew suspicious—had Lin Chengyou mistakenly struck in the wrong direction in his panic? There was no time to think more. While the silver chain around his neck was loose, escaping through the window was the priority.

His silver thread could cut through gold and iron. If he could escape first, he could cut the silver chain from his neck once outside.

But just as he reached the window, the silvery moonlight suddenly changed color. A broad golden wing reached in through the window, appearing half a zhang wide, followed by a crimson giant claw reaching directly for Peng Yugui’s neck.

In his panic, Peng Yugui shot out his silver thread, cursing that the thread was too thin and the wing too broad. When they touched, it only cut off a few feathers. As the giant claw grabbed him, his neck exploded with piercing pain.

Just as blood was about to spray everywhere, Peng Yugui’s heart turned ice cold. At that moment, he felt someone grab his collar—Lin Chengyou pulled him back into the room while his right hand lit a talisman and flew toward the monster.

“Coming uninvited, seeking death?”

The monster shrieked and retreated as if burned by hot coals.

“It’s the Golden-Robed Young Master.” Lin Chengyou quickly pasted several talismans by the window, then turned to instruct everyone, “We need to deal with the corpse evil here. Quickly follow me to the small Buddha hall.”

He then said to Teng Yuyi: “Juesheng and Qizhi will be here soon. As long as you don’t leave through this door, the corpse evil won’t be able to break in for a short while.”

Teng Yuyi was drenched in sweat, staring at Lin Chengyou without a word.

“Don’t worry.” Lin Chengyou glanced at her. “I’ll do what I promised.”

Only then did Teng Yuyi nod with satisfaction, crouching beside Peng Yugui to examine the silver thread in his hand.

“He’s severely injured.”

Blood was streaming from Peng Yugui’s neck as he breathed painfully. Lin Chengyou tore off a strip from his inner sleeve, crouched down, and pressed it against Peng Yugui’s wound, then said to Teng Yuyi: “Keep pressure on it.”

Teng Yuyi had just taken out her handkerchief, but seeing Lin Chengyou had already applied pressure, she tucked it back and took over pressing firmly.

With his hands free, Lin Chengyou took a pill from his waist pouch and tried to put it in Peng Yugui’s mouth.

Peng Yugui’s face was already as white as paper. He carefully avoided the pill and smiled bitterly: “I didn’t mean to harm anyone just now, I only wanted to escape. But the Young Master is right—my actions have strayed from my original purpose. I can’t deceive myself anymore. Everything is my own doing. I deserve death. The Young Master needn’t save me.”

Lin Chengyou gripped Peng Yugui’s jaw and forced the pill into his mouth without another word. Then he took away the silver thread from Peng Yugui’s hand and stood up: “I’m only responsible for investigating cases, not for judging whether you’re good or evil. Keep your life—everything has a chance to turn around.”

Note: Cold noodles (long tao): A type of cold noodles that Tang Dynasty people loved to eat in summer.