Prefect Che’s gains from this operation were considerable.

The warehouse in the Nanxiang Gambling House’s back courtyard yielded a large quantity of smuggled goods — contraband salt, tea, and spices made up the bulk of it. Crate after crate was carried out from the storeroom and soon piled up to fill the entire courtyard. Marshal Ren recovered smuggling ledgers from the fifth floor, which Prefect Che brought over and presented to Lin Sui’an as though offering up a treasure. Lin Sui’an glanced through them and found herself in an awkward position: half the entries were written in the Dashi script, which she could not read, and the other half, though written in Tang script, she could still not make sense of.

“There is no need to trouble Lin Niangzi with such minor matters — let me have a look.” Hua Yitang pulled the ledger over and flipped through it rapidly, his speed in reading accounts leaving Prefect Che utterly astonished.

Marshal Ren took the opportunity to bow to Lin Sui’an. “This subordinate is Ren Bing, Judicial Marshal of Guangdu City. I have long heard of Lin Niangzi’s exceptional martial arts, and to see you in person today is a great honor.”

Lin Sui’an quickly returned the bow. “Marshal Ren is too kind.”

The yamen runners were busy dragging the twelve bodyguards out from where they lay on the floor. All twelve had the tendons of both hands and feet severed and were now permanently crippled. Moving should have caused them excruciating pain, yet no matter how the yamen runners shifted them, they all stared with wide, round eyes, lips pressed shut, not making a single sound. Only when they were dragged near Lin Sui’an did their whole bodies begin to shudder.

Fangke, hands tucked in his sleeves, enlightened Yita on the matter. “These men have been overwhelmed with fright and developed temporary loss of speech. When brought close to the source of their terror, their bodies involuntarily produce a defensive response, causing muscle spasms.”

Yita was suddenly enlightened. “Pig-person is mighty!”

Marshal Ren gave a dry cough and moved a little closer. “Marshal Ren is only curious and wishes to ask one more thing — how did Lin Niangzi subdue these twelve bodyguards? Why are they—”

He left the second half of the question unspoken: Why are they scared into such a wretched state?

Lin Sui’an smiled. “These twelve bodyguards only look imposing. In truth, they aren’t difficult to deal with. One merely needs to be faster, strike by surprise, and attack their vital points.”

Marshal Ren swallowed. In the past, he had crossed hands with four of these men — their combat style was ferocious, relentless unto death. A veteran of many years of battlefield experience, he had found even such opponents deeply troublesome, and back then, taking on all four of them at once had been a tremendous strain. Yet this Lin Niangzi had dispatched all twelve single-handedly with apparent ease, and spoke of it so lightly. The rumors from the Eastern Capital were clearly no exaggeration.

“Marshal Wan said Lin Niangzi could hold off a hundred men single-handedly. I originally thought it was an overstatement — but now I believe it.” Marshal Ren smiled.

Lin Sui’an was greatly surprised. “Does Marshal Ren also know Marshal Wan?”

“I spent several years with the Wan Family of Qingzhou.”

The Wan Family of Qingzhou’s network of connections is truly remarkable — familiar faces everywhere you go. Lin Sui’an thought.

“Oh my, this is interesting — I’ve spotted a familiar name in the ledger,” said Hua Yitang, pointing at the ledger with a smile. “Tatargan.”

Everyone started in surprise and crowded around. The entry Hua Yitang was pointing to was in the Dashi script — those worm-crawling characters were entirely unreadable to most, and the only three who could make them out were Prefect Che, Hua Yitang, and Yita.

Prefect Che said: “Tatargan? Could that be the Eastern Capital smuggler who was captured alive by the Court of Judicial Review two months ago? I recall he was Persian — but because the Persian royal family intervened, his special exemption as a foreigner was removed, and he was sentenced harshly.”

Yita said: “Oh. That is him.”

Hua Yitang said: “The commodity they traded was a certain spice named — Qübäbä Kä. What is that?”

Prefect Che said: “The county lieutenant may not be aware — in the Tang Empire, Qübäbä Kä is a prohibited substance, known here as Hua Chun Xiang, the Drawing Spring Fragrance. It is the primary ingredient in Drawing Spring Paste.”

Lin Sui’an thought: Well! So Berkebü turned out to be Tatargan’s handler.

A yamen runner dashed upstairs and murmured a few words in Prefect Che’s ear. Prefect Che’s expression shifted slightly. He immediately invited the group to accompany him downstairs to the back courtyard.

Just as Jin Ruo had predicted, a secret passage and hidden door were discovered in the woodshed. Inside were Tang women who had been abducted — all young women, over fifty of them. To prevent their escape, they had been starved to the point of near death, and every last one of them was carried out horizontally.

Prefect Che, his face grim, ordered his men to have the women sent for medical care. Marshal Ren’s expression was deeply troubled. He said in a low voice, “Prefect Che — all the women who went missing over the past two months are right here. Thank heaven we came in time.”

Prefect Che shook his head. “We were still too slow. Notify the fathers and family members who filed missing persons reports as quickly as possible, and have them come to identify their people.”

“Yes.”

Lin Sui’an watched Prefect Che’s retreating figure and could not help but think of Yangdu City, of the white bones buried beneath the Feng Family’s private school, of… Qi Yuansheng.

“It appears this Prefect Che has genuine ability — he is nothing like Feng Shi’s men.” Hua Yitang said quietly. “That’s good.”

Lin Sui’an nodded. “Yes. That’s good.”

Jin Ruo climbed out from the secret passage and signaled to the yamen runners. Several of them grabbed hold and pulled out the last person inside — who turned out not to be a woman at all, but a man. Covered head to foot in grime, from a distance only a round, bulging belly was visible. Bai Xiang cried out “A’Ye!” and flung himself forward, tears and mucus smeared all over his face.

Everyone rushed over. Marshal Ren recognized him at once. “It’s Bai Rong, the head of the Bai Family!”

Jin Ruo was drenched in sweat. He wiped the mud from his face with his sleeve and muttered, “After being starved for so many days, how is this head of the Bai Family still so fat—”

Bai Xiang wept and cried: “A’Ye, how have you lost so much weight?! You’re nothing but skin and bones!”

Jin Ruo stared blankly.

Bai Rong struggled to open his eyes. Tears spilled from them. “Third son — you came back—”

Bai Xiang: “A’Ye, are you all right, A’Ye, wuwuwu—”

“Did you… beat up… the fourth son of the Hua Family… nice and hard?”

Bai Xiang’s sobbing stopped dead.

Everyone: “…”

“Ha — it appears Bai Family Head suffers no serious harm.” Hua Yitang smiled with his lips but not his eyes.

Bai Rong’s gaze drifted slowly to Hua Yitang’s face. His eyes suddenly snapped wide. He actually jolted upright — and then pointed at Hua Yitang with a shaking finger: “You — you you — the fourth son of the Hua Family! Hic—!”

Hua Rong’s eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed again. Amid Bai Xiang’s anguished screaming, Fangke quietly felt for Bai Rong’s pulse. “He’s been starved too long — mild malnutrition. Nothing serious.”

Bai Xiang: “Nonsense! My A’Ye’s lips have turned purple — he must have been poisoned!”

Fangke said: “He merely fainted from the shock and fury. Keep him away from Hua Yitang, and he’ll live longer.”

Prefect Che laughed through his exasperation. “Quickly take Bai Family Head to the medical hall.”

Bai Xiang followed them out weeping and wailing, and the group let out a collective sigh of relief.

Zhao Zhengzhi returned hurriedly with his men to report to Prefect Che that they had swept up all of Berkebü’s minions at the docks in one clean sweep. When he heard that Berkebü and his gang had been captured by Lin Sui’an’s party, he was immensely astonished. The yamen runners were busy tallying the smuggled goods. Fangke yawned and said he wanted to go home and rest.

At that very moment, a “thud” came from the room in the northeast corner of the back courtyard.

The surroundings went immediately quiet. Everyone turned to look.

This was the room farthest from the woodshed. Its doors and windows had all been boarded over with thick planks, and the interior was completely dark — not a thread of light. It looked like an abandoned room.

“Thud!” Another sound came from the pitch-black window, louder this time, like a heavy object striking the wall. “Thud thud” — the window trembled twice. “Thud” — the door shifted. “Thud thud thud” — the door boards rattled.

Prefect Che said: “Marshal Ren, open it and see!”

Marshal Ren led a group of yamen runners to pull the boards away from the door. The moment he stepped up to it, the hairs on Lin Sui’an’s back all stood on end. She shouted, “Danger — fall back!” Before her words had fully left her mouth, Qian Jing was out of its sheath and she shot forward like an arrow loosed from a bow.

“Crash bang!” A tremendous blast. The door boards and the barricade planks exploded outward together. The yamen runners could not dodge in time and were all struck squarely, spitting blood and tumbling to the ground. Marshal Ren, directly in the line of impact, was fortunate enough to have his battle experience kick in — he drew his blade in an instant and barely deflected a fatal blow, though the enormous force erupting from within still sent him reeling, his vision briefly going black. In a daze, he felt a violent gust sweep toward him from ahead. In a panic, he raised his blade to block. With a clang, he was pushed back three more steps before he could finally see clearly: what had crossed blades with him was a saber — two feet long, three fingers wide, its edge black as ink.

Marshal Ren’s face drained of color. This blade — it looks just like—

“Fall back!” A gust of wind swept past his ear. Something at Marshal Ren’s back gave him a firm push, and he was lifted as lightly as a paper kite and set down two zhang behind himself. Right before him, two figures had already locked in fierce combat.

Two blades, eighty percent alike: one with a dark green edge, like a ghostly eye; the other with a pitch-black edge, like spilled ink. Black wind and green light clashed furiously in the air, throwing off spark after spark, now darting left, now darting right, now strung together in a chain of flashes against the night sky with a scraping sound that set one’s teeth on edge.

The wielder of the green blade was Lin Sui’an. The wielder of the black blade was a man no one had ever seen — clad in a filthy black robe, his topknot in disarray, his face deathly pale, and a smear of cyan-blue liquid at the corner of his mouth, like some kind of vomit. His blade was fast — almost as fast as Lin Niangzi’s. Most terrifying of all were his eyes: the whites had turned a vivid, glowing blue, as though painted over with dye.

“Who is this person?!” Marshal Ren cried out.

“Height nine chi two, weight one hundred and fifty jin, weapon eighty percent similar to Qian Jing,” shouted Jin Ruo. “He’s one of the two killers who murdered Tie Hai.”

Prefect Che: “What?!”

Zhao Zhengzhi: “Lin Niangzi, let me help—”

“Don’t go over there!” Hua Yitang bellowed. “Don’t get in the way!”

Everyone quickly understood why Hua Yitang had shouted that. The speed at which Lin Sui’an and the black-robed man fought was escalating rapidly — so fast that they could barely track the footwork or the blade movements of either. Occasionally the black-robed man’s blade would slash at the ground and leave a deep furrow, testament to the terrifying force behind his strikes.

Lin Sui’an was also somewhat surprised. Her opponent’s blade techniques did indeed come from the Ten Purity Collection, and neither his speed nor his strength was lacking. Added to the saber bearing such a strong resemblance to Qian Jing, she even experienced a momentary illusion that the person opposite her was a clone of herself, fashioned in her image.

This is something else — what started as a mystery thriller script seems to have veered into science fiction territory!

Yet a counterfeit would always be a counterfeit, and would always fall short of the genuine article.

For Lin Sui’an, the fact that her opponent was using the Ten Purity Collection was actually his greatest weakness. After thirty-odd exchanges, she had already identified his combat patterns and rhythm.

The black blade grazed past her cheek. Her opponent had attempted a half-mastered technique from the collection — “Rushing Wind Shakes the Autumn Leaves” — and missed. Very soon, the next technique would be “Throat Slice That Sprays Blood Ten Feet.” Lin Sui’an’s eyes shifted. She arched backward, avoiding the blade sweeping across her throat, then spun in a reverse rotation, dropped her center of gravity, and swept out a strike. Using the flat of her blade, she executed “Blade Cauldron Severs the Gut” and landed it squarely on her opponent’s abdomen.

The black-robed man flew up like a burst burlap sack. The tremendous momentum sent him spinning through the air several times before he crashed hard to the ground, landing on his belly. He retched out a thick, sticky mouthful of blood mixed with some strange substance — red and blue intertwined, deeply nauseating and unsettling.

Prefect Che, Marshal Ren, and Zhao Zhengzhi were witnessing Lin Sui’an’s combat firsthand for the first time, and all three jaws hit the floor simultaneously. They stared at the young woman standing ramrod straight as she twirled the blade in a cool flourish and sheathed it, her brows knitted tightly.

The moonlight fell into her eyes, clear and cold as still water, giving one’s heart a start.

Hua Yitang fanned himself and strode over with long, assured steps, the crisp chime of his fan’s bells beating in time. The moonlight that had gathered on Lin Sui’an scattered as he arrived, falling across his petal-like robes — pure and resplendent at once — and pulled away a full seven-tenths of everyone’s attention. The group gave a collective jolt and snapped out of the shock Lin Sui’an had dealt them.

Lin Sui’an looked at Hua Yitang with an exasperated smile. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you,” Hua Yitang said, clearing his throat. He pointed at the black-robed man sprawled on the ground and demanded in a sharp voice, “Was it you who killed Tie Hai of the Tie Family Medical Hall?!”

The black-robed man’s arm shifted. He propped up his neck and stared at the two of them blankly. The strange cyan-blue color in his eyes was slowly dissipating, much like Berkebü’s state earlier — it seemed his senses had returned. “Master of Qian Jing… I beg you… save my elder brother… save him…”

With that, his trembling finger pointed toward the pitch-dark room, and his pupils filled with a murky white fog. His head struck the ground with a heavy bang.

He was dead. Lin Sui’an understood it immediately. Her mind gave a resounding clang, as though ten thousand razor-sharp ghost claws were raking across an iron plate, ripping open a white blaze across her field of vision:

Through swirling mist and water vapor, a great dragon with a green face and fanged maw burst from the surface of the water and vanished into the vast expanse between heaven and earth.

Lin Sui’an: Wait, what?!!