Wang Buzui was chanting fervently with his eyes closed when he heard Zhu Yan’s startled cry. He opened his eyes and cast a warning glance at her, “Zhu Yan, if you don’t behave, I won’t hesitate to place your head alongside his.”
Zhu Yan had regained her composure and glanced again at the jar containing the head, remaining silent. She was no stranger to corpses; her initial shock was merely due to being unprepared.
She wanted to examine further, suspecting that these jars contained the body parts taken by the Half-Faced Ghosts after each murder.
Wang Buzui, seeing Zhu Yan’s silence, assumed she was frightened and resumed his chanting, while the other Half-Faced Ghosts continued their tasks.
Xiu Xiu whispered, “Lady Zhu, if you’re scared, come over here. Don’t look anymore.”
Zhu Yan looked over to see Xiu Xiu’s worried face, especially as she glanced at Zhu Yan’s bound hands with pity, beckoning her to come closer.
Zhu Yan shook her head, took a deep breath, and stepped closer. As she suspected, the face in the jar bore a striking resemblance to Li Kairui, confirming it was indeed Li Kaixiang’s head.
She picked up a nearby candlestick and examined it closely. The cut on the neck was clean and smooth, confirming her earlier suspicions.
She then inspected the other jars. The eyes likely belonged to the man who had conspired with Xu Jize to kidnap Du Xiaowan but was killed by the Half-Faced Ghosts. Zhu Yan continued to examine the other jars.
Almost every body part was represented: liver, spleen, kidneys, and even human skin, with the veins visible and traces of blood still present. This was the skin of the Sima of Yingzhou, Biqiu.
Zhu Yan quickly memorized each detail, unaware that Wang Buzui had stopped chanting and approached her.
“Well? Have you seen enough?”
This woman was indeed remarkable. Any other woman would have fainted from fear, yet she dared to scrutinize the jars with a candlestick. Truly impressive.
If she were a man, her future would be extraordinary.
Zhu Yan nodded, “It seems Vice Helmsman Wang has quite a few people he wishes to resurrect. Men and women alike. Am I correct in assuming this head belongs to Li Kaixiang? And that liver to Liu Zongyuan? I can’t identify the other parts, but that skin must be the Sima of Yingzhou, Biqiu.”
Liu Zongyuan had died a gruesome death, his heart and lungs shattered, and his liver missing.
“Lady Zhu, you have sharp eyes. Indeed, these parts belong to both men and women.”
Wang Buzui didn’t hold back his praise. If she weren’t an enemy, he would have liked to recruit Zhu Yan.
“But there’s one thing I’m unclear about. Could Vice Helmsman Wang enlighten me?”
Though she had her suspicions.
Wang Buzui was in the mood to answer, “Speak. You’re going to die anyway, so I might as well let you die knowing.”
“These body parts are as fresh as ever, without any decay. How did you manage that? Just with honey?”
Though there were flowers and trees when they first arrived at the mansion, the floral scent was absent in the dark hall.
Moreover, the sweet scent only appeared when the jars were brought in.
“Interesting,” Wang Buzui smirked. “No wonder you, a mere woman, can solve cases without fail. You’re right; these jars contain natural honey and some preservatives, turning them into candied preserves. You’re familiar with candied meat, aren’t you?”
At this, Wang Buzui looked at Xiu Xiu and the others with malicious amusement, “By the way, the candied meat you’ve been eating these days, how does it taste? Like human flesh? Why not come and smell it? See if it matches the taste.”
These were sacrificial offerings, meant to be well-fed. The disobedient women were killed, their skins flayed, their bones fed to dogs, and their flesh made into jerky to feed the living women.
Unaware, the women ate heartily.
Upon hearing Wang Buzui’s words, the women began to vomit, wishing they could expel their very souls.
Especially Du Xiaowan, who had witnessed Ji Dafu cutting her flesh and chewing it. The memory still chilled her.
Zhu Yan hadn’t expected such inhumanity and exclaimed, “Wang Buzui, do you have no humanity?”
No wonder they were fed candied meat three times a day; the peculiarity lay there.
Though she hadn’t eaten, the mere thought was chilling.
“Humanity? What’s it worth? Can it fill your stomach? Keep you warm? Protect the weak from being bullied?”
A series of questions left Zhu Yan speechless, unsure how to respond.
Wang Buzui sneered, “Since it can’t, what’s the use of it? If you don’t know others’ suffering, don’t preach kindness. Zhu Yan, you should understand this.”
If given a choice, who wouldn’t want to be a good person? Who wants to be a heinous villain?
Since the world is unjust, what’s wrong with carving out his path?
“Moreover, resurrecting those who died unjustly is a great honor, a rare opportunity. We must believe in rebirth and the cycle of life.”
Wang Buzui’s words were like a slap to Zhu Yan’s face, not fatal but stinging.
Faced with Wang Buzui’s questioning, Zhu Yan opened her mouth but couldn’t answer.
Seeing her speechless, Wang Buzui didn’t expect an answer and turned away.
Every step ahead was crucial, and he didn’t want his efforts to go to waste.
The ‘vessels’ for the souls were ready; now it was time for the master to summon the souls.
Xiu Xiu, having emptied her stomach, felt better and approached Zhu Yan, “Lady Zhu, do you also think he’s right? This world is unjust, especially to women. At home, we obey our fathers; when married, our husbands. What are the Three Obediences and Four Virtues but constraints on women?
If we err even slightly, others’ scorn could drown us. Most of those who criticize are women themselves. The saying ‘born of the same root, why so eager to destroy each other’ is just as ironic.
Think about it, how ironic!”
She was a courtesan at Xiuxiang Pavilion, “a pair of jade arms for a thousand pillows, a touch of red lips for ten thousand tastes,” selling her body to survive, degraded to the dust. She understood Wang Buzui’s words about the helpless all too well.
Men spoke sweetly when indulging, but when caught by their wives, they used courtesans as scapegoats.
Courtesans were inherently inferior, subject to abuse, even death, with only compensation to the brothel’s madam to settle the matter.
Who cared about such a worthless life?