The situation was worse than anticipated.

When Rou Qian’er accompanied the residents of Fujiao Ward to the Dali Court to give testimony about Tatargan’s crimes, Rou Qian’er’s maidservant Yingtao had departed Fujiao Ward. And it happened to be during this very window of time that Jin Ruo had been trapped in the hidden chamber of the desolate garden, with all of Thousand Purity’s disciples having gone out to assist in the search — meaning it was precisely a blind spot in Thousand Purity’s surveillance. So when Lin Sui’an asked about Yingtao’s whereabouts, the Thousand Purity disciples were all at a loss.

Jin Ruo immediately arranged for Ding Kun and the Thousand Purity disciples to investigate Yingtao’s background and movements. Ling Zhiyan made a decisive call to return to the Dali Court and prepare to interrogate Rou Qian’er through the night. Hua Yitang was not satisfied and stayed behind at Rou Residence, searching it yet again with meticulous care.

The residence had three courtyards. In total there was one main hall, two primary side chambers, nine secondary side chambers, one kitchen, and one each of a firewood room and a storeroom. Every single room had been cleaned spotlessly, without a speck of dust, the floors looking as though they had been washed with water, reflecting the candlelight. This was not the work of one or two days — preparations had been made well in advance.

On the dressing table in Rou Qian’er’s bedroom, Fangke found several boxes of lip balm resembling Painting Spring Balm. At most it could convict Rou Qian’er of the offense of misusing a banned fragrant ingredient — hardly of much use.

Lin Sui’an held a candle and crouched beside Rou Qian’er’s dressing table, her fingers brushing across the floor, softly letting out a sigh.

If only she had luminol reagent — no matter how much time had passed, no matter how thoroughly things had been cleaned, bloodstains would show up.

Jin Ruo personally knocked along every wall and floor surface — it was a perfectly ordinary residence, with no hidden passages, no hidden chambers, and no trace whatsoever of killing or concealing a body.

“Hey, I refuse to believe he could wash away every single clue,” Jin Ruo said, scratching his chin and pacing in circles. “Unless it was a ghost who did it!”

Hua Yitang upended Rou Qian’er’s wardrobe without ceremony, his constant muttering never ceasing for a moment. “This person is truly bizarre — not even a single set of men’s clothing. Can it be he really considers himself a woman?” He glanced at Jin Ruo. “While you’re wandering around here with nothing to do, you’d be better off going to investigate Rou Qian’er’s financial records and account books.”

That single remark jolted Jin Ruo awake. He chuckled happily and dashed off like a gust of wind — clearly going off to investigate all vessels and carriages registered in Rou Qian’er’s name.

“Fourth Young Master, the situation is not good,” Mu Xia said, coming back from the side chamber next door. The furniture and furnishings in there were all things a young woman would prefer — it was Yingtao’s room. “The clothes in Yingtao’s wardrobe are gone, along with all her frequently-worn accessories.”

Yita: “She’s fled.”

Fangke: “Yingtao is Rou Qian’er’s closest companion — she must know something…”

“Could it be that Yingtao is actually the real culprit?” Hua Yitang tossed aside one of Rou Qian’er’s skirts and clicked his tongue. “Could Yingtao also be a man in women’s clothing?!”

Lin Sui’an: “…”

Good heavens, where does this fellow’s imagination come from?!

“Yingtao is indeed a girl.” Tianku came in, drenched in sweat, and clasped his fists toward Lin Sui’an. “Yingtao is an orphan. Neighbors say she was purchased by Rou Qian’er from the West Market’s human market three years ago. She was only twelve years old when she was brought back — thin and small. Rou Qian’er treated Yingtao very well, just like a daughter.” He paused. “Yesterday at the beginning of the You hour, a Thousand Purity disciple spotted Rou Qian’er’s carriage passing through Sishun Ward. It was confirmed — the one driving the carriage was Yingtao.”

Lin Sui’an: “Sishun Ward?”

Where was that ward again?

“Sishun Ward is on the west side of the South Market,” Hua Yitang said. “Did she take Zhongqu Avenue?”

Tianku nodded.

Hua Yitang: “Going south along Zhongqu Avenue leads to Changxia Gate. Heading east from Sishun Ward, passing through Chunshun Street, is Yanchun Gate. Heading south is Yongtong Gate; heading west is Dingding Gate. But no matter which gate she was heading for, she could not have arrived in time in just one quarter of an hour. The city gates of the Eastern Capital close at the beginning of the Xu hour. She could not have left the city. She must have gone to some ward and gone into hiding.”

“As long as she hasn’t left the Eastern Capital, we can handle it,” Tianku said. “I’ll immediately notify the several elders to lead the brothers to watch all the city gates of the Eastern Capital. The moment she goes to any gate, she’ll definitely be caught.”

Hua Yitang’s fan moved in slow circles on the dressing table — just as he had done when calculating the criminal’s geographical profile back then. “She must have gone somewhere fairly familiar to lie low temporarily. Rou Qian’er frequented the South Market and the North Market, but we just came from the South Market and Thousand Purity’s informants are everywhere there — it’s probably not the South Market…” He paused and looked up at Tianku. “Does Rou Qian’er have any other residences or shops in the Eastern Capital?”

Tianku: “Nothing has been found so far.”

Hua Yitang narrowed his eyes: “So then it should be somewhere near the North Market…”

“Hua Yitang,” Lin Sui’an said as a sudden suspicion flashed through her mind. “Do you still remember Qu Si Niang?”

Hua Yitang: “The blind woman?”

“She was the only victim who lived near the West Market and whose regular market was only the West Market.”

A flash of light crossed Hua Yitang’s eyes. “She was the only victim who fell outside the range of Rou Qian’er’s hunting ground and safe zone.”

“At the time, I assumed the killer had simply gone to the West Market on a whim to hunt. But thinking about it now, rather than the killer suddenly changing his killing habits, there is another possibility—” Lin Sui’an drew a breath. “The one who abducted Qu Si Niang was not Rou Qian’er, but someone else.”

Hua Yitang narrowed his eyes: “You mean — Yingtao!”

Lin Sui’an: “If it really was Yingtao, that makes things rather tricky.”

Mu Xia, Yita, and Tianku were listening in complete confusion.

Tianku: “Lin Niangzi, Fourth Young Master Hua — what exactly are you two talking about?”

Fangke: “All the activity zones that Fourth Young Master Hua previously calculated for the killer were based on Rou Qian’er’s habits. Now that the subject has changed to Yingtao, all previous deductions are entirely inapplicable.”

Yita: “That’s all right — Fourth Young Master is super-talented. He can recalculate.”

Hua Yitang worked his jaw and tapped his fan head against his forehead, closed his eyes, furrowed his brow, and fell silent.

Lin Sui’an understood why Hua Yitang was silent. Calculating a criminal geographic profile had one crucial prerequisite: a sufficient number of basic data points from the crime scenes. With only Qu Si Niang as the sole victim’s data, there was simply not enough to support a recalculation.

Lin Sui’an recalled the scene she had seen — rather, heard — through her special ability in Qu Si Niang’s memories. She thought for a moment and made a decision. “Hua Yitang — do you dare make a bet with me?”

Hua Yitang slowly opened his eyes. Clear, still pupils, like rippling water, fell on Lin Sui’an’s face. He laughed softly. “What is there to be afraid of?”

The blind woman Qu Si Niang lived at No. 46, Liutang Street, Guangli Ward, on the north side of the West Market. A small household, a single-courtyard residence. The whole street was made up of such courtyards — all were ordinary families of modest means.

It was nearly the fourth watch of the night. To the west the sky was a heavy, deep ink-blue; to the east a thin, pale white. In another quarter of an hour the ward gates would open, and the vast Eastern Capital would begin its busy day. The sounds Lin Sui’an had heard in Qu Si Niang’s memories were the din of the market — the timing was just right.

Tianku stood at the door of Qu Si Niang’s home and identified his bearings. “From here to the West Market there are two routes: one goes east to west, through Red Leaf Lane, makes a detour through Yellow Bend Road, and exits through the ward gate. The other goes west to east, crosses the Tongjing Canal great arch bridge, then heads straight south and exits through the ward gate, going directly to the West Market.”

Hua Yitang: “While the route via Tongjing Canal arch bridge is shorter, it has heavy carriage and pedestrian traffic during the day and is not suitable for a blind person to navigate. Red Leaf Lane and Yellow Bend Road have flat surfaces and sparse traffic — that would be the route Qu Si Niang habitually used.”

“Good — we’ll take Red Leaf Lane.” Lin Sui’an tore off a strip of her hem and bound it over her eyes. “Starting from Qu Si Niang’s doorway — going to the West Market.”

This action was quite abrupt, and everyone was somewhat taken aback. Fangke opened his mouth and thought better of it; Mu Xia maintained a professionally composed smile; Yita gesticulated for quite a while without knowing how to express herself; and in the end the only one who actually asked was Tianku: “What is Lin Niangzi doing?”

“We came all this way, so we might as well try our luck. Perhaps with good luck we’ll round a corner and run straight into Yingtao.” Hua Yitang spoke with breezy confidence, fanning himself as he stepped in front of Lin Sui’an and lifted his arm with a rather affected cough.

Lin Sui’an heard everything clearly and could even picture Hua Yitang’s expression — surely wearing the look of “I’m the only one who understands Lin Sui’an” — and could imagine everyone else’s expressions too: undoubtedly “this wastrel is bragging again.”

Lin Sui’an placed her hand on Hua Yitang’s arm. The touch of the fabric was cool and soft — clearly expensive material of considerable value. Beneath the costly, magnificent clothing was a firm and steady arm. She heard Hua Yitang’s voice: “Hold on tight. We’re setting off.”

Lin Sui’an followed Hua Yitang and moved slowly forward. Deprived of sight, her other senses became extraordinarily acute. She could hear Hua Yitang’s footsteps — very steady, stride very small, entirely different from his usual swaggering gait. She could hear his breathing — very slow, very light — interspersed now and then with quiet reminders: “Flagstone steps ahead — not high, just lift your feet a little.” “Be careful, there’s water — slippery.” “There’s a small hollow.” “Slow down — we’re turning.” “Walk straight.”

She heard the rustling of silver filigree-carved fragrance balls rubbing against garments; a mild, warm, woody-fruit scent drifted up in the breeze. Newly risen sunlight broke through the morning mist and fell on her face. She heard the households on either side opening their doors, sprinkling water, sweeping. She heard the heavy ward gates creak and groan open. The ponderous armor of Golden Crow Guards clinked and clattered past. A warm, wet, overwhelming stench of camel dung assailed her. The clattering of foreign languages pelted her from all sides. Hua Yitang stopped walking, leaned close, and rapidly fanned the air beside her with his small fan — a diligently conscientious air purifier.

“How is it?” Hua Yitang’s voice was like a tuft of soft catkin drifting into her ear, tickling softly.

Lin Sui’an instinctively shifted away slightly. “None of the sounds match what’s in my memory.”

“Perhaps it’s inside the West Market?” Hua Yitang’s voice drifted up close again, sweet-scented and warm against her ear. “But the West Market doesn’t open until midday.” The distance between them had somehow gotten even closer than before.

Why was he pressing so close? She couldn’t see — that didn’t mean she was deaf.

Lin Sui’an simply stopped moving away. She spun her head around abruptly, intending to drive him off with sheer bearing — too fast, too sudden. Her nose collided with something she couldn’t quite identify — soft, warm. Hua Yitang’s fragrance and warmth immediately retreated a considerable distance; for a good while there was no sound from him. If it weren’t for Lin Sui’an still holding onto his sleeve, she would have thought he had been startled away.

Mu Xia gave a loud, deliberate cough. Yita and Fangke fell silent. Tianku inhaled a sharp breath for some inexplicable reason.

“Hua Yitang?” Lin Sui’an called out softly. “Where are you?”

“Ahem, right here.” This time Hua Yitang’s voice came from two paces away, thick and muffled, as though he had a piece of candy in his mouth.

“Have you heard a sound like ‘Oh — lo — lo —’?”

Hua Yitang made a surprised sound and was quiet for a moment. “No.”

Lin Sui’an stilled her mind and listened carefully. All around, a great herd of camels snorted and blew, the foreign merchants’ voices and Tang speech blending into one clamorous mass. Then a gust of wind rose, and suddenly all sound hushed — and from far away, like the notes of a folk song, a work chant came riding on the wind.

“Hei-lo-eh — oh — lo —”

Lin Sui’an’s ear twitched. Her finger pointed precisely in the direction the wind came from. “What is in that direction?”

Tianku: “That’s the direction of the Houzai Gate docks.”

“I’ll buy all of these camels!” Hua Yitang called out loudly. A great clamor rose all around; immediately following, Lin Sui’an felt her arm lifted from above — Hua Yitang’s hand — and with the momentum she sprung upward and vaulted in between two woolly humps. Behind her was also a fragrant Hua Yitang; there was barely room for both of them. Her back was pressed against Hua Yitang’s chest without a gap between them. Hua Yitang’s both arms encircled her body; with a sharp snap of the reins, the camel beneath her lurched and broke into a gallop, threading through a wave of startled cries and angry curses, into the wind, into the faint, elusive work chant, running on.

Very quickly, Lin Sui’an heard the clamor of crowds, the laughter of children, the bubbling of water on the boil, the snap and flutter of hanging banners, and — the smell of sugar.

This is the place!

Lin Sui’an yanked the cloth from her eyes. Hua Yitang reined in the camel. A shower of brown camel hair rained down; Hua Yitang sneezed three times in a row.

They had stopped in front of a sweet shop, its sign reading “Xu’s Sugar House.” Beside it was a congee stall hung with a blue-and-white banner that slapped and snapped in the wind. Children darted in and out of the sweet shop, laughing and shouting, draping themselves over the counter and drooling. Not far away was the Houzai Gate cargo dock, where boatmen shouldered heavy sacks, baskets, and wooden crates, chanting rhythmically: “Hei-lo-eh — oh — lo —”

A woman with a wrapped headscarf and a pack on her back came out of the sweet shop leading three small boys of about five or six years old, wearing tattered cloth shoes with toes sticking out, at the most mischievous age. They shrieked and screamed as they ran about, careening into a customer seated outside the congee stall. The woman apologized repeatedly; the customer waved it off without concern, rose, paid, and left. The woman turned back to call the three boys over to her; the lower half of her face beneath the headscarf flashed and was gone.

That was not Yingtao’s face — there were some wrinkles at the outer corners of the eyes, making her look somewhat older. Lin Sui’an had not paid special attention, but just then Hua Yitang suddenly pointed forward and shouted: “Stop her!”

In an instant Lin Sui’an’s palm struck the camel hump and she launched into the air; with a flip she landed directly in front of the woman, and the scabbard of Thousand Purity leveled at the woman’s throat. The three small boys who had been beside the woman immediately took to their heels without the slightest hesitation and were gone.

Tianku, Fangke, Mu Xia, and Yita leapt down from the camels and crowded around. Fangke frowned and stared at the woman’s face for a moment — then his expression changed drastically.

Only now did Lin Sui’an look clearly: this woman’s build was very similar to Yingtao’s, but her entire face was deeply peculiar. Her forehead and the outer corners of her eyes were covered in wrinkles, yet the wrinkles lay in strange patterns — not like those formed naturally, but like the skin of a shriveled fruit. There was a dark, blackish patch at her cheekbones, as though something had rotted there. And at the outer corners of both eyes were two conspicuously prominent teardrop moles.

“Outer corners with teardrop moles, melon-seed face, cherry lips,” Hua Yitang walked to Lin Sui’an’s side, his robes billowing in the wind cold as frost. “This is the true face of Rou Qian’er.”

Following his voice, something unspeakably horrifying occurred. The woman’s facial skin peeled away like rotten pig hide, slowly detaching and sliding down, pooling at her neck, turning out a moldy, hair-covered inner surface.

Beneath it was Yingtao’s young, full face.