The New Year of the fifteenth year of the Da Pei Pingzong reign was not as tranquil as years past. Ever since an incident befell the treasured daughter of the Zhongyong Marquis’s residence when she went to offer incense at Huguo Temple on the first day of the first month, the matter had not spread to every person in Wu Jing — but it was no secret in the circles of the powerful and privileged. Fear and unease had taken hold among the aristocratic class, for the manner of Fourth Miss Qi’s death had been profoundly strange.

Yet wherever one went, the common folk at the lower rungs of society lived by reading the faces of those above them. They possessed a keener nose than hunting hounds: the moment they sensed something unusual among the privileged, they drew their tails in and dared not act brazenly.

All the more so when, on top of this incident, a string of cases of missing women came to light in rapid succession — all seemingly connected to the death of Fourth Miss Qi. The people of the Court of Judicial Review had not even finished celebrating the New Year before they were rushing about investigating, which sent unease spreading still further.

So it was that before the New Year celebrations had even concluded, Wu Jing seemed draped in a pall of gloom, undercurrents churning, leaving people unsettled and anxious.

Princess Zhao’an’s residence received visitors from the palace — an elderly nanny dispatched by the Noble Consort Li, who came on account of the princess’s pregnancy, concerned that there would be no experienced attendant by her side when she went into labor. And so she sent this seasoned nanny and palace attendants to come and check on her.

After much fuss and bustle, the visitors from the palace finally departed.

Cong Fuma smiled and watched the palace party leave, and only when their figures vanished from sight did he turn to look at Princess Zhao’an inside the room. The moment he snapped his head around, the princess flinched, touched her own face, her gaze flickered, and she lowered her head, her body trembling slightly.

“Take good care of the princess. If even the slightest thing goes wrong, I will have your lives.” Cong Fuma looked at the attendants inside the room and said this.

“Yes, sir.”

Cong Fuma raised his head and looked at the wind-chime hanging under the eaves, his expression clearly irritated. “This wind-chime is rather too noisy,” he said.

He raised his hand, and a gust of force struck the wind-chime, sending it tumbling from the corner of the eave. Cong Fuma stepped on it, ground it hard beneath his foot, and walked away.

At the Court of Judicial Review.

Shen Qinghe listened to his subordinate’s report and frowned. “Are you certain it was Princess Zhao’an, without mistake?”

The female subordinate knelt on one knee with a cupped fist salute. “This subordinate saw clearly — it was undeniably her. This subordinate even took the pretext of checking her peace pulse to feel her pulse directly, and the pulse was steady. From the signs of pregnancy she appears to be approaching nine months.”

Shen Qinghe was silent for a long moment, then said, “You may go. Have someone keep watch on the princess’s residence.”

“Yes, sir.”

After the female subordinate left, Shen Qinghe frowned and rubbed the corner of his eye, muttering to himself, “That hardly seems possible.”

He picked up Princess Zhao’an’s medical records and personal registry. It was clearly stated there that she was a pure Yin female body, just as Gong Qi and the others had said. Gong Qi had also sent word saying there was something strange about Princess Zhao’an and the Cong Family, and to keep watch — so why was she sitting so peacefully in her residence?

Even the several elder sticklers of the Cong Family were behaving themselves perfectly, going to the observation platform of the Bureau of Heavenly Observation day and night to watch the stars, with no signs of anything amiss.

Shen Qinghe tapped Princess Zhao’an’s registry and thought over what the female subordinate had said, his eyes lowered in contemplation. Suddenly, a past case came to mind — an assault case involving twin brothers. The victim’s family had clearly seen the perpetrator, yet when inquiries were made, each had an alibi. It was only later discovered there were twins, each covering for the other’s crimes.

Princess Zhao’an had no twin sister — but in this world, it was not only twins who looked exactly alike. There were also human-skin masks, and given that this affair also involved demonic evil and ghosts, a human-skin mask might not even be necessary — a Daoist technique could be enough to make one appear as an entirely different person.

The moment Shen Qinghe thought of Daoist techniques being put to such a use, he felt a suffocating frustration. For those like himself who were ordinary people, using Daoist techniques this way made solving the case genuinely and considerably harder.

Was it not perhaps necessary for Da Pei to establish a special government bureau, dedicated solely to handling these extraordinary and sinister cases?

“Sir, your wife says to—”

“Not going, not going, no time — tell them to go back.” Shen Qinghe waved his hand with impatience.

The subordinate let out a sound of acknowledgment and said, “Your wife is not asking you to return home, sir. She asks that you remember to raise the matter of the Kaiping Marquis residence’s succession when you attend court.”

Shen Qinghe was taken aback. “Why has that come up now?”

“It seems your wife heard someone mocking the ninth young miss of the Kaiping Marquis residence at the Grand Preceptor’s mansion’s New Year banquet — saying that the Kaiping Marquis’s title had no resolution, and that she was an orphan without the standing of the Marquis’s residence to rely on.”

Shen Qinghe’s face darkened. He slapped the table. “Who called her an orphan? Her mother is not dead yet. Who said this — I will submit a memorial impeaching them. What kind of way is that to speak? Has the person no understanding of virtue? A true orphan is someone whose father and mother are both dead. If you have nothing useful to say, read more books — making such ignorant and baseless pronouncements is an embarrassment.”

The servant, watching him slam the table hard enough to make it boom repeatedly and set the teacup bouncing and clattering, could see he was furious, and said weakly, “It seems it was the wife of a Department Vice Director in the Ministry of Works.”

What with the bizarre case not going smoothly and now this infuriating piece of news, Shen Qinghe looked upon the servant with considerable displeasure. “Go back and tell my wife I understand.”

“Yes, sir.”

Shen Qinghe picked up his teacup and drank the remaining half-cup of cold tea. He then looked at the tally of missing persons recorded beside him, his head buzzing. His temper was foul, and he needed an outlet.

“Someone come — have Zhao Fang come speak with me,” he called for the female subordinate from before. The matter of Princess Zhao’an still needed to be confirmed further as to whether it was truly her.

While he waited, he also took out a blank memorial, ground the ink, and began to write.

At the Cong Family estate.

Cong Fuma entered the Cong Family ancestral hall and knelt inside. Before him, a figure draped entirely in black robes sat cross-legged with his back to him, facing a row of ancestral tablets.

“Ancestor,” Cong Fuma said, his voice subdued, “the Cong Family, I fear, has truly come under suspicion.”

The black-robed figure he addressed as Ancestor spoke in a voice hoarse and grating, as though his throat had been scraped raw by a blade. “Is the princess’s side unaffected?”

“You may rest easy — all is well.”

“This child the princess carries is the hope of the Cong Family over the past hundred years. We must ensure nothing goes wrong. As for all else, do not panic — the Cong Family should do what it should do.” The black-robed figure said coldly. “All that matters is ensuring the child in the princess’s womb is safely brought into this world.”

“The Xuan Clan is stirring restlessly, and has joined forces with the Court of Judicial Review to investigate. I fear that the place known as Duoming Ridge cannot be kept hidden much longer—” Cong Fuma’s voice suddenly broke off, for the figure before him had turned around.

He had only one glance before he bowed his head to the ground in prostration and dared not look again, his body trembling slightly.

It was a face of extreme age — dry and desiccated all over, carved with deep furrows and crevices, as though the claws of some great beast had raked across it, the flesh curling at the edges, the visage grotesque and ferocious. A pair of sharp eyes, deep-set and cold as an abyss, stared out.

The ancient, fearsome face was one thing — what mattered most was that the old man was enveloped in a shroud of deathly air, making him seem dim and sinister, cold as a wicked ghost, horrifying beyond measure.

“Afraid of me?” The black-robed figure’s eyes were pitch dark as he fixed his gaze on the man prostrate below.

Cong Fuma said in a trembling voice, “I would not dare.”

The black-robed figure said coldly, “One who would accomplish great things should not even flinch when Mount Tai collapses before him. And yet you are afraid of a man at death’s door — what use are you!”

“I know my failing.”

“Get yourself to Duoming Ridge and stand guard there.” The black-robed figure gave a cold snort. “The Xuan Clan — I understand their ways better than you. What they call the righteous path is nothing more than a matter of insufficient temptation. Once the temptation is great enough, a windfall this enormous will have them green with envy and scrambling to seize it for themselves — not to destroy it. When that time comes, the Cong Family will be safe, and will even have protectors.”

A flicker of near-ecstatic madness glinted in his eyes, as though he could already see the magnificent scene of the day his great undertaking was complete.

Cong Fuma assented, backed away with a deep bow, and withdrew.