At the first quarter of the Hour of Hai, the Prefect’s residence of Guangdu City was ablaze with lights and teeming with people. The Judicial Marshal Ren Bing led a contingent of yamen runners, standing in strict formation and ready for action.
Ren Bing was thirty years old this year. He had once served as a veteran soldier for eight years under the Wan Family of Qingzhou, forging his martial arts on the battlefield. He was skilled with a pair of axes and had distinguished himself in battle on several occasions. It was precisely these qualities that had caught the eye of Prefect Che, who, overriding all objections, had exceptionally promoted him to the post of Judicial Marshal of Guangdu City.
At this moment, Prefect Che was anxiously awaiting news from Zhao Zhengzhi. They had planned for nearly three months, all for the purpose of sweeping away the smuggling ring in the foreign quarter in one fell swoop. Tonight’s battle would be the decisive moment.
“Taking down the Nanxiang Gambling House is the most crucial part of this operation,” said Prefect Che, pointing at the district map for one final review to check for any gaps. “Zhao Zhengzhi has found out that a large shipment of smuggled goods will arrive at Guangdu Port tonight. Berkebü will send two-thirds of his men to escort it, leaving the Nanxiang Gambling House sparsely defended. This is our best opportunity — and our only one.”
Ren Bing nodded gravely, then thought for a moment and added, “What about Bai Rong’s case? Didn’t that Hua county lieutenant say there were leads at the Nanxiang Gambling House?”
Prefect Che frowned. “Once we’ve taken down the gambling house, we conduct a thorough investigation.”
As the hour approached the third quarter of Hai, Zhao Zhengzhi’s subordinate constables returned with good news: a quarter of an hour ago, a large number of workers and hired thugs from the Nanxiang Gambling House had already arrived at the docks, their numbers not far off from what Zhao Zhengzhi had estimated.
“Commander Zhao has personally led men to keep a tight watch on the docks and guarantees there will be no slip-ups,” the constable reported. “We are only waiting for Prefect Che to capture the ringleader Berkebü before closing the net on all those small fry.”
“Excellent!” Prefect Che gave a firm pat on Judicial Marshal Ren Bing’s sturdy shoulder. “Berkebü and his twelve bodyguards — we are counting entirely on Marshal Ren! We can only succeed, not fail!”
Ren Bing clasped his fists in salute. “This subordinate will exert every last ounce of effort!”
The Nanxiang Gambling House had five floors, each named after a celestial body. The first floor was called “Venus Crossing the Sky” and catered to casual patrons whose stakes did not exceed a hundred gold. The second, third, and fourth floors were named “Mars Guarding the Heart,” “Long-Tailed Star Spanning the Sky,” and “Jupiter Descending,” respectively, with the entry requirements increasing at each level: the second floor required a guaranteed stake of two hundred gold, the third five hundred gold, and the fourth eight hundred gold.
To ascend to the fifth floor, “Five Stars in Conjunction,” one’s stake could be no less than one thousand gold. It was said that since the Nanxiang Gambling House opened its doors, only ninety-nine guests had ever set foot on the fifth floor.
And Hua Yitang was the one hundredth.
It had to be said, the fifth floor truly lived up to being a place only super VIP members could enter — the décor and design exuded extravagance in every detail. The wool carpet underfoot was as white as snow, without a single stray fiber, a pure import from Persia; step on it and one felt as though treading on clouds. The gambling table was roughly the same size as the dining table back at the Hua residence, wide and thick, made of the precious sandalwood rosewood. In the four corners of the room stood multicolored glazed lanterns, and as the flames swayed, the entire room shimmered with the colors of a rainbow, giving Lin Sui’an the illusion of being transported back to a deluxe private room in a modern KTV.
Most astonishing of all, Lin Sui’an actually discovered “stools” here — their shape uncannily resembling the square wooden stools found in small modern restaurants, with a small back-rest similar to an armrest bench on the rear side. Sitting on one, she could stretch her lower legs out straight and plant both feet flat on the floor. Lin Sui’an nearly wept with joy. Oh heavens, oh earth — at last, no more sitting on the floor, grinding her rear end and calves to numbness.
After ascending to the fifth floor, Berkebü’s demeanor grew ever more benevolently serene, like a gilded idol in a Buddhist shrine. He leisurely sipped his tea and had servants set out refreshments and fruit.
Before long, the fifth floor’s croupier brought over a small wooden box — made of yellow rosewood, without a lock — filled with all manner of deeds and contracts belonging to the Nanxiang Gambling House: property deeds, indenture contracts, tenancy agreements, loan contracts, silver house deposit certificates, and more.
“These are my stake. I wonder, does the young gentleman find them satisfactory?” Berkebü asked Hua Yitang with a smile.
Hua Yitang paid him no attention and instead watched Lin Sui’an with amused curiosity. “You like this stool?”
Lin Sui’an stroked the stool leg with great fondness. “Can I take it with me if I win?”
Hua Yitang snapped his fan shut with a sharp crack. “Along with all the furniture and furnishings in the Nanxiang Gambling House!”
Bai Xiang twisted his back, Jin Ruo pressed a hand to his forehead, and Fangke rolled his eyes. “Such ambition.”
Berkebü’s smile visibly twitched for a moment before returning to its former state. He had more documents brought over and added to the box. “Since you have all come to the fifth floor of the Nanxiang Gambling House, you must abide by the rules of the Five Stars in Conjunction.”
Yita settled himself solidly before the gambling table. “State the rules.”
“The rules are the same as the first floor, but five dice are to be used.”
“Fine.” Yita shoved all the gold bars, gold leaf, jade tokens, and property deeds across the gambling table in one sweeping motion. “All in.”
“Good!” Berkebü pushed the wooden box onto the table. “I’ll match.”
The croupier brought out the dice cups — five ivory dice for each player, identical to what Lin Sui’an had seen in the Finger of Gold’s memories, only different in number. In Bai Shisan’s memory, there had been six dice.
Lin Sui’an thought: Could six dice carry some special significance?
Yita and Berkebü simultaneously raised their dice cups and began shaking them — swish swish swish, swish swish swish — and everyone involuntarily held their breath.
Bai Xiang clutched his chest, his face flushing red from holding his breath. Suddenly he jolted — the two players at the table had simultaneously set their cups down.
The croupier’s voice rang out in a high pitch: “Reveal—”
Both dice cups were lifted at the same time.
Everyone’s gaze snapped over in unison, and a collective “Oh!” rose from the crowd.
The dice in both Yita’s and Berkebü’s cups were all five bright red “fours.” A draw.
Bai Xiang let out a long breath and patted his chest with a series of pained exclamations. Jin Ruo and Fangke wiped the sweat from their brows.
Hua Yitang smiled. “The house master is indeed a grandmaster.”
Berkebü also smiled. “This little Persian gentleman is truly formidable.”
Hua Yitang said, “The two of you are evenly matched in skill. I’m afraid five dice may not be enough to determine a winner.”
Berkebü replied, “The young gentleman speaks wisely. Shall we raise the stakes and play another round?”
“And what does the house master have in mind?”
Berkebü leaned slightly forward. The kindly smile on his face, illuminated by the glow of the glazed lanterns, gradually twisted into something vicious and ferocious. “Six dice — do you dare?”
Hua Yitang tilted his head and revealed a row of pearly white teeth. “What is on the table is already my entire fortune. I cannot raise the stakes further.”
“The rule of the Nanxiang Gambling House’s six-dice game is that what is wagered is not money,” Berkebü said with a smile. “It is your life!”
Oh-ho! So that was what six dice meant.
Lin Sui’an’s spirits perked up immediately.
“Oh my!” Hua Yitang covered his mouth with his fan, eyes wide as saucers, crying out in a flustered voice, “I only came to gamble some money — I have no intention of wagering my life!”
“You don’t have to gamble,” Berkebü said coldly, and with a slight wave of his hand, his twelve bodyguards fanned out behind him, curved blades drawn from their sheaths, the cold gleam of steel encircling the entire room. “The rule of the Nanxiang Gambling House is that those who forfeit must leave behind all their stakes!”
Bai Xiang yelped and threw his arms around Jin Ruo. Jin Ruo rolled his eyes in disdain.
Fangke quietly edged closer to Jin Ruo’s side.
“Since it has come to this,” said Hua Yitang, striking the pose of Xi Zi clutching her heart, performing with great relish, “I can only brace myself and play.”
“Admirable nerve!” Berkebü slapped the table and rose to his feet. “Bring out the six dice!”
The croupier replaced the dice with six new ones, wearing a sinister grin. Yita picked them up and bounced them in his palm. His expression shifted slightly. “Inside… there is mercury.”
“The six-dice game uses mercury-filled dice,” said Berkebü, dropping the dice into his cup and shaking it — swish swish swish. “Only one who can win this round truly has skill.”
Lin Sui’an picked up one of the dice and examined it. “Could it be that Bai Shiliu also lost because of the mercury dice?”
Berkebü slammed the cup down with a crack. “Not only did Bai Shiliu’s ancestral home and half his life get lost in the six-dice game — the illustrious Bai Family of Qingzhou, renowned for a hundred years, shall also come to ruin right here!”
Hua Yitang raised an eyebrow. “So Bai Rong really is with you.”
Bai Xiang leapt up in agitation. “What?! My A’Ye is actually here?! What have you done to my A’Ye?!”
A flash of ferocity crossed Berkebü’s eyes. “Win, and I’ll send you to see him myself.”
As he spoke, he lifted the dice cup. Six blood-red “fours,” arranged in a plum blossom pattern, identical in both position and form to what Bai Shiliu had seen in his memories — not one detail different.
So this was the obsession Bai Shiliu carried with him. Lin Sui’an sighed inwardly.
“Little Persian gentleman, look carefully — this is six red in the highest throw,” Berkebü said with a smile. “A draw counts as my win, you know.”
Yita gripped the dice in his hand, his breathing tightening slightly.
“Yita!” Fangke said in a steady voice. “Never mind that his head is big — there’s practically nothing inside it. About the same as a pig’s brain. If you don’t believe me, I’ll split him open and show you later. You can win!”
Yita turned his head, stunned. Layers of emotion rippled through his sapphire blue eyes.
“Pfft!” Hua Yitang burst out laughing.
Bai Xiang sputtered, “A pig’s — pig’s brain?!”
Jin Ruo said, “Doctor Fang, your way of encouraging people is absolutely terrifying.”
Lin Sui’an stifled a laugh, stepped forward, and rested her palm gently on Yita’s shoulder. “I’m quite fond of this stool — I don’t want to give it up.”
Yita gave a solemn nod. “If pig-person likes it, then it all belongs to pig-person!”
He tossed the dice into the cup, held the cup in one hand, shook it three times — swish swish swish — his sapphire pupils contracting slightly. His arm gave a jolt and a sink, then a sudden lift and a shake. A “click” sounded from within the cup. Yita’s hand kept moving, continuing to shake. The glow of the glazed lanterns flowed across his pale skin, luminous and translucent. Then, abruptly, his wrist gave a sharp tremor, and a rapid series of “click click click click” sounded from inside the cup before it landed back on the table with a sharp “crack.”
Berkebü narrowed his eyes to slits, the pouches beneath them twitching violently, half his face convulsing along with them.
Yita lowered his lashes and gently lifted the cup.
Inside the cup were twelve dice — no, not twelve. The six dice had all split in two, yielding twelve faces pointing upward: six faces showed the cotton rose blossom pattern, meaning six “ones,” and the other six showed six “fours.”
“Six fours: high red. Six ones: low red.” Yita raised his eyes, a strand of golden hair sweeping across his long lashes. “You lose!”
“Yita, you’re a gambling god! A god! A god! Hahahahaha!” Jin Ruo rushed over and embraced Yita, ruffling his golden hair into a bird’s nest.
Fangke let out a long breath of relief. Bai Xiang collapsed onto the floor.
Through the stunned gazes of the twelve bodyguards, Berkebü’s entire body convulsed violently. Beads of sweat the size of soybeans slid down his scalp, hair, temples, and the creases beside his mouth.
Hua Yitang snapped open his fan with a crisp crack. The clear, melodious chime of golden bells rang out as if providing accompaniment. “From this moment on, the property deeds, land deeds, silver, and the indenture contracts of every person in this gambling house — the workers, croupiers, servants, hired thugs, every blade of grass, every table and chair, and especially these stools — all of it belongs to me.”
Berkebü let out a sharp shriek. “Kill them! Leave no one alive!”
The twelve bodyguards snapped out of their daze. Curved blades sang from their sheaths as they closed in for the attack. Suddenly, they saw a streak of green light — vivid and blazing — splash across them. Within that green light came a piercing wind, and the wind carved the light into razor-sharp lines, lines that wrapped around their wrists and ankles, then snapped tight in an instant. Skin split. Blood sprayed.
All twelve men crashed to the floor simultaneously. Only then did they see clearly: it was not a line, not wind, not light — it was a green blade, two feet long, three fingers wide. The wielder was the young woman who had been watching the spectacle from the sidelines throughout. She landed lightly on the gambling table, casually twirled the blade in a flourish, and the blood on the edge dripped onto the gold bars and gold leaf, glittering blindingly.
“The second technique of the Ten Purity Collection, ‘To Await the Slaughter Like Livestock,’ has two key points,” Lin Sui’an said, instructing Jin Ruo earnestly. “First: speed. Second: even faster. Sever the tendons in your enemy’s hands and feet with maximum speed, leaving them nowhere to dodge and no way to defend. Once all four limbs are crippled, they become lambs on a cutting board waiting to be slaughtered.”
Jin Ruo pulled a pained face. “Master, it was too fast — I couldn’t follow it.”
Bai Xiang clung to Jin Ruo’s leg, trembling head to foot. “So scary so scary so scary!”
“With Lin Sui’an here, what is there to fear?” Hua Yitang said, fanning himself with a smile.
Bai Xiang swallowed hard and said nothing.
Your Lin Niangzi is the scariest one of all, you hear!
Berkebü slumped to the floor, every muscle in his body rigid as stone. No matter how he tried, he could not bring himself to believe it — his twelve bodyguards, in whom he had taken such tremendous pride, had been defeated in a single breath by an unremarkable young woman. What was more terrifying was that she had done it in a single technique. Was this person even human?!
Wait — what had that flashy young gentleman just called her?
Lin Sui’an?
Lin… Sui’an…
He remembered now!
“You’re the Lin Sui’an who single-handedly defeated the Eighteen Arhats of Tatargan?!” Berkebü shrieked.
Lin Sui’an found this quite funny. She had been thinking there was something inexplicably familiar about these twelve bodyguards, and now that he had jogged her memory, they did indeed bear a considerable resemblance to Tatargan’s Eighteen Arhats back in the Eastern Capital — both groups comprised an even number of guards, both employed foreign fighters, and both looked fearsome but crumpled embarrassingly under pressure.
“Do you know Tatargan?” Lin Sui’an stepped across the gambling table one pace at a time and crouched down, looking at Berkebü from above. “Don’t tell me your warehouses and secret chambers are also full of smuggled goods?”
Berkebü’s pupils contracted violently. He looked at the flashy young man. “You’re the fourth son of the Hua Family?!”
“Right here!” Hua Yitang gave a little wave.
“Well, well, well — the fourth son of the Hua Family!” Berkebü broke into loud laughter. He should have realized sooner: who else but the Hua Family of Yangdu could have this kind of wealth and audacity, combined with such flamboyance and extravagance? It was common knowledge throughout the Tang Empire that the Hua Family of Yangdu and the Bai Family of Qingzhou were enemies as deep as the sea, locked in a fight to the death. He had been certain the Hua Family of Yangdu would never come to the aid of the Bai Family of Qingzhou — that certainty had been his trap, his underestimation of his enemy.
“But this is not Yangdu. This is Guangdu — the foreign quarter, the territory of us foreigners!” Berkebü snarled through clenched teeth. A streak of cyan-blue liquid seeped from the corner of his mouth. He sprang to his feet, his pupils bulging wildly, letting out a screaming howl, and like a frenzied beast lunged toward Lin Sui’an.
Lin Sui’an flicked Qian Jing out, slashing swiftly in three strokes, dutifully narrating as she went: “First technique: Axe Cleave That Severs the Gut. Second: Throat Slice That Sprays Blood Ten Feet. Third: To Await the Slaughter—” Her blade speed was far too fast for her mouth to keep up. Before she had finished calling the sequence, she had already executed five techniques. “Excellent disciple — just watch for yourself and grasp the essence!”
Berkebü’s roar turned into a scream. Blood erupted from his throat, abdomen, and wrists. Lin Sui’an naturally would not strike to kill — Bai Rong was in all likelihood in his hands, and she still needed to keep this man alive to crack the case. So she had held back to forty percent of her strength. By Lin Sui’an’s estimation, these few strikes would leave Berkebü incapacitated. What she had not anticipated was that Berkebü possessed an astonishing resilience. After taking those blows, rather than retreating, he fought back even more fiercely.
Lin Sui’an sensed something was wrong. She recalled the maddened Hao Liu from the Hao family household and shouted “Fall back!” before abandoning all restraint. She came down with the spine of her blade in one technique — Blade Cauldron Severs the Gut — intending to knock him down. Yet when the flat of the blade struck Berkebü’s abdomen, his belly let out a gurgle, and he opened his mouth and spewed a stream of blue liquid directly at her. Lin Sui’an was startled. The tips of her toes flew to the ground and she spun frantically away, barely avoiding it. Even after landing, her heart was still hammering.
Was this Berkebü some kind of llama? What was he doing spitting?!
The veins at Berkebü’s temples, neck, and the corners of his eyes turned black and bulged grotesquely. The irises of his eyes were suffused with a strange cyan-blue hue, eerie and ghostly like will-o’-the-wisps. His face stretched into a smile that was not quite a smile. His speed abruptly became extraordinarily alarming. With two flashing dodges he rushed forward, his hands shaped like eagle talons, launching into a dizzying series of grappling techniques, each strike aimed directly at Lin Sui’an’s throat.
It was Lin Sui’an’s first time engaging in such close-quarters combat, and her opponent was using a grappling style she had never encountered before. For a moment she could not respond in time and retreated several steps. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the worried expressions of the others — especially Jin Ruo, who had already snatched up Ruo Jing and was about to charge forward. Lin Sui’an’s heart went cold. She absolutely could not disgrace herself in front of her disciple. She called out loudly: “Good disciple — haven’t you always wanted to learn how to break a fixed pattern? Today your master will demonstrate it for you once!”
With that, she flung Qian Jing outward. Jin Ruo was aghast and scrambled backward five or six paces, barely catching it in a panic, nearly toppling forward from the weight of the blade. “Master, have you lost your mind?! Oh my goodness—!”
In the split second that Jin Ruo caught the blade, Lin Sui’an shifted her method of attack. She crossed her palms and met Berkebü’s wrists with a sharp slap slap, then curled her ten fingers into eagle talons. Sinking her energy to her lower abdomen, she dropped her center of gravity and settled into a lower stance. With both hands rotating inward, she seized Berkebü’s hands in reverse. Berkebü let out a muffled grunt and tried to lock her hands in return. Lin Sui’an spun in a neat circle, her shoulder somehow ending up in a different position, and she slipped free. Then, with both palms rotating outward, she pirouetted and lunged back toward Berkebü.
For a moment, the two twisted and dodged, attack and defense exchanging hands again and again. The sounds of elbows, forearms, and wrists striking each other rang out without pause.
Everyone was dumbfounded. Anyone who wasn’t blind could see that the techniques Lin Sui’an was now using resembled Berkebü’s very closely — or rather, as the number of exchanges increased, Lin Sui’an’s techniques grew more and more like Berkebü’s, gradually becoming fifty percent alike, then seventy percent, then eighty percent—
Jin Ruo’s face drained of color in shock. “Could it be that what is known as ‘breaking the fixed pattern’ is actually—”
“Breaking the fixed pattern means anticipating the enemy’s anticipation,” said Lin Sui’an. “To know the enemy’s anticipation, one must know the enemy’s techniques. To know the enemy’s techniques, one must first learn the enemy’s techniques—”
Lin Sui’an kept her gaze fixed firmly on Berkebü’s eyes. She guessed that Berkebü, like Hao Liu, had consumed some drug that enhanced strength and speed, which was why his eyes had taken on that strange cyan-blue color. But as time passed, the color in his eyes was growing fainter and fainter, and his speed was slowing — replaced by terror he could no longer suppress.
“How is it possible that anyone could learn my grappling art in a few breaths? Impossible! Impossible!!”
Lin Sui’an smiled inwardly: of course she could not learn an adversary’s supreme technique in an instant. She was merely using her exceptional eyesight, strength, speed, and powers of imitation to approximate its form — in plain terms, she was bluffing.
The essence of breaking the fixed pattern, when all was said and done, was psychological warfare.
By mimicking the enemy’s attack patterns and rhythm, one breached their psychological defenses. When a person’s mind fell into complete chaos, the body would act ahead of the mind, and muscle memory would seize control of the body — Lin Sui’an knew this intimately from her own experience. What was more elegant was that the drug Berkebü had taken deepened the confusion in his mind. If at this moment there were a mirror opposite him, his subconscious would rehearse his techniques against it.
Lin Sui’an was now Berkebü’s mirror. As long as she continued without pause to mimic her opponent’s techniques while remaining undefeated, there would come a moment when Berkebü’s mind collapsed — and her last technique would become his next.
The cyan-blue color in Berkebü’s eyes had completely faded. The terror and dread on his face had reached its peak. After dodging one of Lin Sui’an’s Black Tiger Steals the Heart strikes, he let out a great shout and launched his own Black Tiger Steals the Heart.
Here it was — this was the moment she had been waiting for. Anticipate the enemy’s anticipation — breaking the fixed pattern!
Lin Sui’an’s eyes flashed. She slid sideways with a step, effortlessly avoiding the blow. With both hands and two sharp clicks, she seized Berkebü’s elbow and wrist, then with a whoosh swung him in a full circle and sent him flying with a crash.
Berkebü’s eyes bulged like a pair of burst grapes as he sailed in a graceful parabola over the gambling table, over the twelve bodyguards sprawled on the floor, smashed through the room’s double doors, and his round, rolling body — resembling a great meatball — went tumbling and thudding down the stairs all the way to the main hall on the first floor, coming to rest just in front of the entrance.
As if on cue, the gambling house’s front doors burst open with a bang. Prefect Che and Marshal Ren, leading several dozen yamen runners armed with steel blades and torches, surged inside. Their voices rang out in a fierce roar:
“The Prefect’s office is here to capture criminals and investigate the case! All bystanders clear the way immediately! Anyone who resists will be cut down on the spot!”
A deathly silence fell over the inside and outside of the gambling house. The gamblers and hired thugs downstairs all stared wide-eyed at Prefect Che’s party, while the yamen runners stared dumbfounded at Berkebü lying on the ground, half-dead.
“My, isn’t that Prefect Che?” A bright voice rang out from upstairs, clear as morning light. Prefect Che looked up in a daze to see Hua Yitang leaning over the balcony railing, his wide sleeves billowing in the breeze, waving his little fan with great delight. “Berkebü just accidentally lost the entire Nanxiang Gambling House to me — you’ve arrived at the perfect time. Help me take care of the transfer paperwork while you’re at it, won’t you?”
Prefect Che: “Wha?!!”
Skit:
Marshal Ren: And so my part in this story ends just like that?!