Bai Sixteenth Young Master was dead, slain in his ancestral residence.

The ancestral residence was located in the same ward as the Iron Family Clinic — Qiumen Ward — in Qianzhong Lane. The name alone told you it was close to Bainye Lane: step out of the Iron Family Clinic, head east five hundred paces, and turn twice, and you were there.

Bai Sixteenth had been a thoroughgoing gambler. Everything in his home of any worth — and of no worth — had been lost. He had even dismissed all his servants. The courtyard was utterly desolate, and Lin Sui’an had half-wondered whether Bai Xiang had led them to the wrong address.

Bai Xiang was also profoundly shocked. He had been away from Guangdu for less than three months, and already Bai Sixteenth’s home had fallen into such ruin. There had at least been some furnishings for appearances’ sake before — now the place was so bare that there was not even a proper bed to be found. Truly four walls and nothing more.

Bai Sixteenth’s body lay on the floor of the main side chamber — not yet decomposed, still fairly fresh. There was a grim wound at the throat, the bloodstain spread in a spray pattern. Bai Xiang fainted on the spot from fright and was carried outside by the agents to get some air.

Fang Ke had now examined two corpses in a single day. His spirits were greatly invigorated. The autopsy form was filled out quickly and with unusual detail, the normally arid and spare characters taking on a certain free-flowing vitality.

“Deceased Bai Sixteenth, male, height seven chi four cun. Time of death approximately twelve hours ago. Fatal cause: a sharp implement severed the artery at the throat — instantaneous death. Only one wound, the cut surface clean and precise, delivered with absolute decisiveness. The weapon had a sharp blade, approximately three fingers in width, and likely the same blade used to kill Iron Hai.”

Zhao Zhengzhi frowned. “I came to question Bai Sixteenth only the day after Iron Hai’s death. How is he already dead?”

Hua Yitang: “He was likely killed after returning home from the Prefect’s Office. Was there anything unusual about Bai Sixteenth at the time?”

Zhao Zhengzhi thought for a moment. “When he saw the jade pendant, he identified it as Bai Rong’s property without hesitation, manner calm, words certain. I believed him. Later, when Bai Rong went missing, we were all consumed with pursuing Bai Rong — naturally, no one kept watch on Bai Sixteenth’s movements.” He paused. “Alas — that was my negligence!”

Hua Yitang tapped his fan against his chin and said nothing.

Jin Ruo circled the room once, then carefully measured Bai Sixteenth’s foot length, tibia length, and other dimensions with his measuring cord. He clicked his tongue. “This person is Person A from the Iron Clinic. The room also contains footprints from B and C. Unless something unexpected occurred, the killers are also these two.”

Fang Ke: “On Bai Sixteenth’s back, outer right arm, knee, and outer right shin, there are areas of bruising. By the color, they appear to have been caused by a blunt object striking him two or three days before his death.”

Lin Sui’an: “He was in a fight?”

Fang Ke: “Based on the location of the bruising, it would appear to have been a one-sided beating.”

“There is also another person who came to this room — approximately six chi tall, weighing between one hundred and seventy and one hundred and eighty catties.” Jin Ruo glanced at Zhao Zhengzhi.

Zhao Zhengzhi: “Could it be Bai Rong?”

Jin Ruo shrugged. “Possibly.”

Prefect Che stroked his beard and paced in agitation. “Earlier, the witness claimed to have seen Bai Rong near the Iron Family Clinic — but perhaps Bai Rong went not to the clinic, but to Bai Sixteenth’s home. Why would he come to Bai Sixteenth’s home? What is his connection to the two killers? Could he be their accomplice? And where is Bai Rong now?” He stopped. “County Lieutenant Hua, Lin Niangzi — what is your assessment of the —”

Prefect Che froze.

He saw Lin Sui’an walk to Bai Sixteenth’s body, lift her hem, and crouch down. Hua Yitang followed immediately, crouching half a step behind her, and gently took hold of Lin Sui’an’s wrist. Lin Sui’an carefully pried open Bai Sixteenth’s eyelids — and her entire body went rigid and still.

Hua Yitang’s brow was knitted tight, his gaze locked on Lin Sui’an’s profile, his eyes unusually focused.

Prefect Che felt his face inexplicably flush, and he looked away in awkward embarrassment.

“What are those two doing?” asked Zhao Zhengzhi.

Jin Ruo scratched his head, then shook it.

Fang Ke, eyes half-lidded, said flatly — “Avert your gaze.”

One sentence was enough to send Zhao Zhengzhi whipping his head around in mortification.

A full ten breaths passed. Lin Sui’an suddenly drew a sharp breath, her body swaying. Hua Yitang quickly steadied her, asked her quietly how she was; Lin Sui’an answered in a low murmur. Hua Yitang’s frown deepened.

Prefect Che and Zhao Zhengzhi were craning their necks nearly two li forward in their effort to hear what the two were saying. Then Hua Yitang suddenly turned and said, “Brother Fang — lend me your brush and ink.”

Fang Ke unhurriedly opened the wooden chest, produced a sheaf of rough-edged draft paper, and handed over a thin wolf-hair brush. Hua Yitang chose a clean patch of floor, sat down cross-legged, spread out the paper, and held the brush tip perpendicular above it. Lin Sui’an spoke into his ear in an extremely low voice, using the most minute and fragmented of phrases.

The two were plainly in the same room as everyone else, yet a mysterious and intimate boundary seemed to form around them — one that no one, not even Jin Ruo or Fang Ke, could enter.

Prefect Che quickly saw what Hua Yitang was doing: drawing. The brushstrokes were precise, the line-work swift — a first draft appeared quickly. Lin Sui’an indicated several points and shook her head. Hua Yitang took another sheet and produced a second draft. Lin Sui’an raised a few more amendments. And so — third draft, fourth draft, fifth draft — Hua Yitang drew more and more slowly, more and more carefully, with fewer and fewer corrections. By the ninth draft, Lin Sui’an finally nodded.

At the moment Lin Sui’an nodded, everyone present — swept along by the tension — exhaled simultaneously without thinking.

Hua Yitang stood, smoothed his sleeves, and straightened his robe. He handed the drawing to Prefect Che.

“Both of you reside in Guangdu. Have you seen the object in this drawing before?”

The drawing showed six dice, scattered like a plum blossom pattern across a porcelain plate. All six had their red “four” face turned upward — a “Six-Red Grand Color” arrangement of remarkable rarity in gambling. Additionally, two more faces of one of the dice were visible: one marked with “six,” one engraved with a kapok flower. In the lower left corner, the material of the dice was specially noted: ivory.

Prefect Che stared in bafflement. “What does this drawing signify?”

Hua Yitang: “A critical clue in this case, naturally.”

Prefect Che’s eyes went wide. “This — where did this clue come from?!”

Hua Yitang smiled. He drew the carved sandalwood fan from his waist, flicked it open with a sharp snap, and strolled to the doorway. He executed a magnificent turn, swept his sleeve aside in a flourish, stood silhouetted against the light in an air of imperious grandeur, and declared: “Hua has studied under the True Master of the Ten Brilliances from the Golden Light Grotto of Mount Mao. His greatest expertise lies in the Art of the Nine Palaces. Just now, after Hua’s painstaking mental calculation, this image was arrived at — the object in this drawing is that which Bai Sixteenth prized most dearly in his life, and is surely the key to solving this case!”

Zhao Zhengzhi’s jaw dropped. Prefect Che’s eye twitched. He glanced at Lin Sui’an.

Lin Sui’an cleared her throat softly and gave a slight nod.

Prefect Che: “…”

Whatever fragile confidence he had just managed to build in the covert imperial censor instantly became precarious once more.

What on earth is all this nonsense?!

“Your Excellency! Your Excellency! This is incredible!” Zhao Zhengzhi murmured. “I have seen these dice! Among all the gambling dens in Guangdu City, only three can afford ivory dice — but the only one that replaces the ‘one’ face with a carved flower is the South Township Gambling House in the Foreign Quarter. And furthermore —” he swallowed. “I have heard that before Bai Sixteenth Young Master fell into poverty, he was a regular patron of this gambling house.”

Prefect Che was so stunned that his composure crumbled completely, mouth half-open, words failing him.

How did Hua Yitang — a stranger to Guangdu — know about the South Township Gambling House? And how could he have drawn the gambling house’s dice with such precision?

Could he truly be a disciple of some Golden Light Grotto of Mount Mao?

Prefect Che didn’t see it: there was another person in the room even more astonished than he was.

Jin Ruo had his hand pressed over his mouth, eyes rounded like copper bells — but his look of astonishment was directed not at Hua Yitang, but at Lin Sui’an.

Wait, wait, wait — could it be that Master was speaking the truth? That she can actually see the memories of the dead?

Fang Ke lowered his eyelids, half-concealing the light in his gaze as it moved from Lin Sui’an to Hua Yitang, then back from Hua Yitang to Lin Sui’an. His eyebrow rose, and from somewhere in his throat came a long, meaningful sound of comprehension.

The Hua Family’s eighty-eighth residence was located in Xinmeng Ward in the Middle City of Guangdu, adjacent to the central axis road. Across a single main thoroughfare lay the most bustling section of the Foreign Quarter — looking north from the upper-story pavilion, a sea of lights blazed through the night, a scene not unlike the sleepless city of Yangdu.

After entering Guangdu City, the group had pressed from one task to the next — examining bodies, investigating cases — without a moment even to eat. It was not until the hour of You that they finally found time to return. Mu Xia had prepared a lavish dinner featuring Guangdu City’s specialty dishes. First to arrive at the table, naturally, was the soup: only two kinds had been prepared on account of time — one a chicken bone broth, one a fresh specialty chowder. The chowder was made from seven varieties of sea fish, simmered until the broth was a milky white resembling fresh cow’s milk; a touch of salt added upon serving was enough to make it extraordinarily savory. Jin Ruo took one sip and couldn’t stop.

Lin Sui’an was more drawn to the small snacks here — for example, the dish before her now, named “Floral Cluster.” Each piece was the size of a bowl, in the shape of a plum blossom, with a center and five surrounding petals that looked plain at first glance but concealed wonders within: the center and each petal were filled with a different stuffing — shrimp, fish, chicken, and goose — wrapped in glutinous rice flour, fried in hot oil until cooked through, then arranged into a plum blossom shape and dusted with powdered sugar. The center and petals tasted different from one another — delicious and amusing at once.

Fang Ke’s favorite was “Twin Dragon Braised Together” — steamed eel fish topped with a layer of golden minced meat. Jin Ruo asked what the minced meat was made of. Before Mu Xia could answer, Fang Ke had already replied.

“Earthworms.”

Jin Ruo: “!!”

“The earthworms of Qingzhou are particularly thick and meaty. Minced fine, marinated in secret spices for half an hour, then fried in oil until lightly golden — the texture is crisp and satisfying.” Fang Ke ladled a generous spoonful of minced meat and held it out to Jin Ruo. “Try some.”

Jin Ruo: “Ugh!”

Yita burst out laughing. “He’s teasing you. Mu Xia used snake meat.”

Jin Ruo: “Uggh!”

Lin Sui’an quietly pushed the Twin Dragon dish to one side.

“In the culinary traditions of the south, one could say there is very little that does not make it to the table. In Lingnan, ant eggs and python snake are considered delicacies. Then there are water frogs and mud shoots that in appearance are quite like earthworms.” Hua Yitang picked up a section of eel with his chopsticks, took a bite, and clicked his tongue in appreciation. “And from there, one might say that under the vastness of the sky, there is scarcely anything in the world that cannot be eaten. Jin Ruo — if you aspire to become a true connoisseur, you still have a long, long way to go.”

Jin Ruo piled every last portion of Twin Dragon on the table onto Hua Yitang’s side.

Mu Xia smiled and ladled a bowl of fresh chowder for Hua Yitang. “Are we truly not going to investigate the South Township Gambling House?”

“They don’t welcome us, so why should we go pressing our hot faces to their cold backside,” said Hua Yitang with disdain.

According to Prefect Che, the South Township Gambling House was the largest gambling establishment in the Foreign Quarter. Its proprietor was from the Great Arabia and wielded considerable influence in Guangdu, with power deeply entrenched and connections spreading in all directions. To simply show up and demand answers on the strength of a drawing of uncertain provenance would be most inadvisable. They had therefore decided to let Zhao Zhengzhi conduct a quiet investigation.

“Lin Niangzi and County Lieutenant Hua have helped us a great deal, but this is ultimately Guangdu City’s case — it would not be appropriate for outsiders to conduct the entire investigation.” When Prefect Che said this, his expression was rather uncomfortable. Lin Sui’an suspected he had some difficulty he could not speak of aloud. She thought it over, and agreed.

The visions from her golden finger showed only a deceased person’s obsessions. Bai Sixteenth had been a gambler — perhaps his obsession was simply winning money, with no direct connection to the murder.

Focusing on only this one clue was not the wisest approach.

“I think there is definitely something fishy between Prefect Che and that gambling house,” said Jin Ruo, sifting through the dishes on the table with his chopsticks, lifting each item to inspect it carefully, placing in his mouth only what he could identify with confidence. “Poor Bai Third Fatty — when he heard Prefect Che say we weren’t allowed to get involved, he nearly cried again. If it hadn’t been for —” At this, Jin Ruo paused, set down a piece of meat of unidentifiable provenance, and turned to Hua Yitang. “Hey, what did you say to Bai Third Fatty? What did he go home for?”

Hua Yitang produced his handkerchief, wiped his mouth, stood up, and said — “Mu Xia, change my clothes.”

Jin Ruo: “Huh?”

Lin Sui’an blinked. “Hua Yitang, you’re not actually planning to —”

“We’ve come all this way. If I cannot enjoy the pleasures of the renowned Foreign Quarter of Guangdu City, how would I do justice to my reputation as Yangdu’s foremost young wastrel?” said Hua Yitang with a breezy smile.

Lin Sui’an: “…”

As expected.

Mu Xia inclined his head. “The Spring Breeze Brings Success robe, perhaps?”

Hua Yitang: “Give the Spring Breeze Brings Success robe to Yita. I’ll wear the Free Singing of Songs set.”

Fang Ke frowned. “Yita is still so young — how can you take him to a gambling den?”

Hua Yitang and Mu Xia exchanged a look and smiled.

Yita sighed, clasped his hands in a formal bow, and said, “As you command, Fourth Young Master.”

The Foreign Quarter encompassed forty-seven wards, each with its own marketplace, the curfew having been lifted five years prior.

After dark, the night markets were extraordinarily lively — none more so than the South Township Ward, and within South Township Ward, none more so than the Four Seasons Street.

The Four Seasons Street was not a single street but four, crossing each other at right angles and running through the entire South Township Ward, named for the four seasons. Spring Season Street was home mostly to pleasure houses; Summer Season Street had wine establishments to the east and teahouses to the west; Autumn Season Street was lined with commercial shops; Winter Season Street ran alongside the Sishui River, and beside the river stood a five-story tower hung with red lanterns and draped in colorful silks. The lamplight poured from its windows and spilled across the surface of the Sishui River, more brilliant and dazzling than the moon above.

It was Lin Sui’an’s first time seeing Yita dressed in proper formal robes, and she found it remarkably novel. Yita’s day-to-day attire leaned toward modified Western-style garments — short hems, compact cuts, suited for ease of movement. His face was young, his speech stilted, and he had the air of a child still smelling of milk. But now, dressed in Hua Yitang’s clothes, she realized that he had already grown to the same height as Hua Yitang.

The black head-cloth folded his curling golden hair neatly inside. His blue eyes mirrored the red lanterns of the gambling house, exuding a faint and cool detachment. In Jin Ruo’s words: he actually looked “quite the proper sort.”

Lin Sui’an felt that Yita did not particularly like gambling houses.

Fang Ke liked them even less. This was the hour when the great coroner ought to have been asleep — yet he had insisted on following Yita here, like a fretting father, while Hua Yitang was the street delinquent who had led Yita astray.

The delinquent Hua Yitang was, as ever, ostentatious to the extreme — ostentatious carriage, ostentatious clothes, ostentatious fan, ostentatious entourage. Standing before the gambling house entrance, he was so ostentatious as to draw every eye. Five or six attendants, drawn like flies scenting blood, surged over and ushered the whole party through the main doors with fawning energy.

The interior of the gambling house was packed with people, shouts and cries filling the air. The smell of wine, incense, smoke, and breath mingled into something beyond description. Lin Sui’an took one whiff and estimated the PM2.5 was at least triple the acceptable limit. She quickly edged closer to Hua Yitang. He was, as befitting a veteran pleasure-seeker, thoroughly prepared: six large fragrant sachet balls hung at his waist, their notes of fruit-wood and clear musk blanketing the surrounding four-chi radius. A living air purifier in human form.

His fan today was different from the usual. The rib was carved ivory, the leaf plain white silk, from which a strand of miniature gold bells hung — tinkling softly with every motion.

Ting-ting-ting — sauntering right, he glanced at the pai gow tables and shook his head. Ting-ting-ting — drifting left, he looked over the backgammon boards and frowned. He circled the entire floor once, then stopped at the largest gambling table.

The table was round, made of red wood, its surface smooth as a mirror. The center had been deliberately hollowed out as a position for the dealer. The dealer was a sallow-faced man of about thirty, posture slouched and uneven, surrounded by a ring of gamblers. Each person had a pile of copper coins of varying sizes in front of them, and a dice cup in hand — rattling and shaking all at once, each crying out “roll, roll, roll” as they shook. To the dealer’s right sat another dice cup; to his left, a silver tray held more than a dozen dice.

The guiding attendant introduced the game: “This gentleman must be visiting from outside Guangdu. This is our city’s own specialty game, called Six Colors — easy to learn, simple to play. May I explain it to you?”

Hua Yitang nodded.

“Six Colors is a dice game. The dealer rolls first, players roll after. A die has six faces, marked with one through six.” The attendant picked up one die to demonstrate. “Our gambling house’s dice are unique — the ‘one’ face is replaced with a kapok flower.”

Lin Sui’an’s pupils contracted. The design of the kapok flower was identical to what she had seen through the golden finger. The material was different, however — this one was wood, not ivory.

“The ‘one’ and ‘four’ faces are red. The ‘two’ and ‘five’ are white. The ‘three’ and ‘six’ are black. The final total of the dice rolled: odd is ‘small,’ even is ‘large.’ Simply match the dealer’s outcome of large or small to win. If you happen to roll a red face, you win double. Three red faces triples your winnings.”

Before the explanation was finished, the dealer called “fixed!” Gamblers snapped their cups face-down on the table. The dealer called “open!” All the cups were lifted at once.

The dealer’s three dice read “two, three, six” — odd — “small.” Among the gamblers, roughly half had odd and half had even results. Cheers and groans rang out simultaneously across the table.

“It sounds quite diverting.” Hua Yitang tapped his fan against the table’s edge. “Yita, place your bet.”

Yita produced a pouch of gold leaf and slapped it on the table. Lin Sui’an and Jin Ruo nearly choked in unison. Fang Ke stumbled.

The entire table fell silent. The guiding attendant drew a sharp breath. The dealer looked over quietly, a sharp gleam cutting through his eyes.

Hua Yitang smiled brilliantly. “What happens if I roll three of the same red face?”

“You take it all — maximum payout,” said the dealer.

Hua Yitang nodded and made a welcoming gesture with his fan.

The dealer straightened, solemnly picked up the dice cup, shook it three times with deliberate care, and set it down steadily.

The other gamblers didn’t dare join in — they all withdrew their stakes and stood watching Hua Yitang, clearly assessing the situation.

Hua Yitang passed his fan to Yita, rolled up his sleeves, picked up the dice cup with one hand, and gave it three shakes as well, then set it down.

Jin Ruo sucked in a sharp breath. “Is the Hua fellow actually any good at this?”

Lin Sui’an was not entirely sure. Hua Yitang did look supremely confident — but the problem was that he always looked supremely confident. Knowing when he was being genuine versus when he was bluffing was no easy matter.

“He is Yangdu’s foremost young wastrel — first in the Tang Dynasty when it comes to the art of pleasure and indulgence. He must have some skill at this!” Lin Sui’an did not know whether she was reassuring Jin Ruo or herself.

The dealer narrowed his eyes and lifted his cup. “One, two, three — even! Large!”

Hua Yitang’s long white fingers reached for the dice cup. Lin Sui’an and Jin Ruo involuntarily held their breath. Fang Ke began murmuring under his breath — it sounded like the exorcism incantations he recited over corpses.

Hua Yitang smiled, then raised an eyebrow at them — radiating total confidence. He lifted his dice cup.

Lin Sui’an’s head rang like a bell.

Two, three, six. Odd. Small!

Hua Yitang blinked in puzzled astonishment. “Oh my?”

Jin Ruo and Fang Ke simultaneously pressed their hands to their chests. Lin Sui’an’s face turned green.

This man really was a reckless squanderer after all.