When Hua Yitang was young, in order to evade the tutor’s examinations, he had perfected a supreme technique known as “Waters from the Sky Pour Down in Torrents, Red Leaves of a Hundred Mountains Float and Drift.” To execute it, one had to turn the neck a vivid red, break out in a cold sweat, and pair the expression with a body-clenching, knee-knocking dance while crying out: “Going to wet myself!” At these words, the tutor would invariably pale with alarm and send the student rushing off. Thus Hua Yitang could make his escape.

This technique had a plain and easily understood name in common parlance — the “Bladder Dodge.” Reliable without exception, it was considered an essential technique in the repertoire of any self-respecting pampered scion skipping lessons — until the day his elder brother Hua Yihuan saw through the ruse and administered a thorough bamboo-cane-and-stir-fried-bottom correction to Hua Yitang’s rear end. After that, the technique vanished from the rivers and lakes entirely. A lamentable end.

Hua Yitang could never have imagined in his wildest dreams that he would one day find himself compelled to revive it.

Over these past several days, he had squeezed out time through the “Bladder Dodge” ruse to investigate the layout of Four-Sides Workshop. The workshop was smaller than Xiande Manor, consisting of a three-courtyard compound. The first courtyard at the front served as the reception area. The second courtyard had been converted into the embroidery workroom — the zone Hua Yitang knew best by now. The third and rear courtyard was territory he had never entered — the embroidery women described it as the master’s private storehouse, off-limits to outsiders.

Between the embroidery workroom and the rear courtyard was a single door, usually locked. Based on the timing and frequency of Zhu’s mother’s trips to the rear courtyard, it seemed the Zhu family master visited for inspection every few days, though rarely coming into the workroom — going directly to the private storehouse instead.

Four-Sides Workshop had four outhouses — one in the front courtyard, two in the workroom area, and one in the rear courtyard. The two in the workroom had previously been for women only, but after Hua Yitang arrived as the sole anomaly, Zhu’s mother had helpfully designated the smaller southern one exclusively for his use — which, as it happened, created a perfect opportunity for him to slip away unobserved.

And so, Hua Yitang’s toilet trips escalated from once every two hours to once every hour, then to once every half hour. The embroidery women’s glances toward him grew increasingly peculiar. Every time he headed for the outhouse, there would be hushed whispering — some covering their mouths with suppressed laughter, others shaking their heads in pity. Remarks like “what a shame” and “all style, no substance” drifted through the air. Hua Yitang, as the undisputed number one pampered scion of Yangdu City, was certainly not ignorant of what they were implying. But the bigger picture had to come first — he could only endure the humiliation in silence, swallowing his tears and quietly raising his toilet frequency even higher.

Fortunately, effort brings its rewards. After days of investigation, Hua Yitang had discovered an unknown passage: the outhouse and the rear courtyard were separated by nothing more than a single wall. Climb over it, and entry into the rear courtyard was unobstructed.

On the tenth day at Four-Sides Workshop, Hua Yitang deliberately wore a clean, nimble black outfit under his outer robe, with a face-covering cloth tucked inside. He arrived at the embroidery workroom at the start of the day clutching his stomach, groaning and wincing, claiming he had eaten something bad — and made trips to the outhouse every half hour to establish the pattern. Once the groundwork was sufficiently laid, he deployed the “Bladder Dodge” with masterful technique and disappeared into the outhouse.

This way, even if he took longer than usual, no suspicion would be aroused.

Hua Yitang swiftly stripped off his outer robe, pulled out a waterproof leather pouch from inside his robe, stuffed the robe in, and hid the pouch in the hay bin beside the toilet. The leather pouch had been stitched overnight by Mu Xia — waterproof and odor-proof, with two large sachets of fragrant herbs inside, guaranteeing that the robe could be put back on smelling of flowers rather than anything else.

Mu Xia had also prepared a thick, stout face-covering cloth. Fangke had donated a solid pair of heavy-duty work gloves. Hua Yitang put everything on in order, then stepped onto the toilet lid, planted one foot on the lid and one foot on the wall, and — fortunately, his legs were long enough — managed to hold steady. He seized the top of the wall, heaved himself up with ease born of a lifetime’s experience scaling walls and climbing windows, and dropped soundlessly into the rear courtyard.

The rear courtyard was smaller than he had imagined — about a quarter the size of the embroidery workroom. Along the base of the walls grew a ring of low shrubs, and in the center, a garden of artificial rocks and a small water feature divided the courtyard into a north and south half, connected by a wooden arched bridge. The grass, the bridge, and the stones were all dark and waterlogged from the rain — like a bleak ink-wash painting.

At the far end of the arched bridge stood a single chamber room — black eaves, white walls, a foundation of stone and brick, its doors and windows shut tight.

Hua Yitang looked around carefully, confirmed the area was clear, and then crept on tiptoe across the bridge. Reaching the chamber, he tried each of the windows in turn — all were latched from inside. The door had a copper padlock on it.

An ordinary copper padlock, without the slightest resemblance to Hua Family’s custom-made locks. Hua Yitang’s heart leaped. He pulled the hairpin from his hair, inserted the tip into the keyhole, and began to work it. In truth, he had not been entirely honest with Lin Sui’an about this — the underlying mechanics of locks did not differ greatly from one to the next. He had trained his hand from childhood on Hua Family’s proprietary locks, and common locks posed him no challenge at all. Put plainly, Hua Yitang’s lock-picking could not only open Hua Family’s own locks, but any lock simpler than theirs. Locks more complex than Hua Family’s would require more effort — but not many of those existed in the world.

In no time at all, there was a decisive click from inside the padlock — it was open.

Hua Yitang swiftly replaced the hairpin, slid the lock free, pushed the door open — the hinges let out a long, slow creak — and stepped inside. The room was extremely dark. Directly opposite the entrance stood a large decorative screen painted with wintersweet blossoms — the petals a dark crimson, like dried blood — just as a commotion broke out from the direction of the embroidery workroom.

“Auntie Zhu!”

“Auntie Zhu has fainted!”

This was immediately followed by a chorus of overlapping shouts.

Hua Yitang rapidly assessed the situation: Zhu’s mother had suddenly fainted — the workroom would be in chaos. Everyone’s attention would be elsewhere, with no mind to spare for his whereabouts. This was precisely the best moment to search for clues. Opportunities do not wait — Hua Yitang had one foot over the threshold —

“Come quick — Auntie Zhu isn’t doing well! Help!”

“Someone help! Help!”

【Dragon God Fruit poison causes blood to rush violently upward through the body. If not treated in time, the heart bursts and death is instantaneous.】

Blast it all! Damn Dragon God Temple!

Hua Yitang squeezed his eyes shut, clenched his teeth, pulled his foot back, closed the door, locked it, and ran at full speed. He vaulted over the wall back into the outhouse, changed into his outer robe in three quick movements, and came sprinting toward the embroidery workroom while still tying his sash.

Inside the embroidery workroom, all was pandemonium. The women had clustered in a circle around the center, cries of alarm rising and falling. Hua Yitang shoved through the crowd and found Zhu’s mother lying rigid on the floor — her face drained of color, her lips a deep purple, her whole body trembling uncontrollably. Several embroidery women were calling out for people to stand back and let in air. One pressed the philtrum point on Zhu’s mother’s upper lip, another pressed her ear to Zhu’s mother’s chest to listen for her heartbeat, and two others had rolled up Zhu’s mother’s sleeves and were rapidly slapping the inside of her forearms. Their emergency response was surprisingly well-organized.

“What happened to Auntie Zhu?” Hua Yitang asked urgently.

An embroidery woman: “Her old condition — palpitations of the heart.”

Hua Yitang: “Does she have medicine for it?”

The woman bit her lip, hesitating, and shook her head.

Hua Yitang made a decisive call and crouched down. “I’ll carry Auntie Zhu to my family’s clinic. Dr. Fang can treat her!”

“No no no — Auntie Zhu’s condition can only be treated with the sacred water from Dragon God Temple!” another woman cried, red-eyed.

Hua Yitang felt a jolt of alarm in his chest. He remembered what Fangke had said.

【The people of Cheng County have become deeply dependent on the sacred water. If the supply were to be cut off suddenly, the consequences would be unthinkable.】

Hua Yitang bit down hard enough to draw blood from his inner lip. Lin Sui’an had only been poisoned once, and only lightly — yet it had taken Fangke every ounce of his skill to pull her back from the brink. Zhu’s mother’s symptoms were clearly far more severe, and the depth of her poisoning was impossible to judge. Fangke’s current antidote was only half-finished — in an emergency this acute, if something went wrong —

“The sacred water is up to two strings of cash per bottle now. Where would we find that kind of money?”

“Even if we had the money, it would be useless! She’d have to be taken to Dragon God Temple in person so the Temple Master could dispense the sacred water — there’s no way we’d get there in time!”

“Hitch the carriage!” Hua Yitang overrode all objections and hoisted Zhu’s mother onto his back, his eyes reddening. “I have money — hurry!”

Several women ran out to the front. Hua Yitang carried Zhu’s mother and sprinted for the gate. Just as the women who had run ahead came rushing back, there was a man behind them — a middle-aged man with a broad, flat face and small eyes, dressed in a plain brown robe, striding in with hurried steps and the dusty look of one who had traveled some distance. The women greeted him as Master.

The Zhu family master took one look at Zhu’s mother’s condition and his face went white. “Zhu’s aunt is having another attack?!”

The women: “We were just about to take Auntie Zhu to Dragon God Temple for the sacred water.”

The master’s expression went to a sickly pale. “I’ve just come from Dragon God Temple. The Temple Master has gone into seclusion — he’s refusing to see anyone. Everyone who went up the mountain seeking sacred water was turned away.”

“What?!” The embroidery women fell into a panic.

“Blast it all!” Hua Yitang exploded. “What kind of accursed seclusion is this, at a time like this?! Is the carriage ready or not?!”

The Zhu family master was startled by Hua Yitang’s shout. “You’re the Mutang that Auntie Zhu mentioned? Where are you taking her?”

“The clinic, obviously!” Hua Yitang shot back coldly. “Saving a life is like fighting a fire — keep wasting time talking and she’ll be reporting to the King of Hell!”

“Master, what do we do?!” The embroidery women wept.

The Zhu master clenched his jaw. “To the clinic — now!”

The whole group surged out of Four-Sides Workshop in a rush. The carriage at the gate had just been hitched when Hua Yitang came sprinting up with Zhu’s mother on his back — and just as he was about to board, he paused.

He had felt Zhu’s mother move.

Everyone saw it: Zhu’s mother, who had been thoroughly unconscious, let out a long exhale, and opened her eyes. She raised her head and looked around with a dazed expression. “What’s all this commotion about?”

The crowd stood in stunned silence. Hua Yitang nearly twisted his own neck. The Zhu family master hurriedly had her helped down. Though still somewhat weak, Zhu’s mother was able to stand steadily — her color and the shade of her lips had returned to normal. She wiped the sweat from her brow, pressed a hand to her chest, and said, “Did I have another spell?”

The embroidery women nodded tearfully.

The Zhu family master stared at Zhu’s mother in astonishment, looking her up and down from head to toe. “Auntie Zhu — you’re truly all right?!”

Zhu’s mother rubbed her scalp, then felt her chest again. “Strange — it doesn’t feel as awful as usual this time. I feel as if I just had a nap — and a rather comfortable one.” She sniffed at her own sleeve. “Yes — exactly that fragrance from the dream! Lovely!”

Fragrance?!

Everyone turned simultaneously to look at Hua Yitang.

This Lord Mutang had come sprinting out of the outhouse just moments ago — and not only had there been no unpleasant smell about him whatsoever, he’d been carrying a positively intoxicating fragrance on his person. In the heat of the moment, no one had stopped to think about it, but smelling it again now, the scent rolling off him was rich and heady, the kind that lingers for three days and makes your eyes water.

Hua Yitang himself had gone still. Only now did he recall that when Mu Xia had been preparing the leather pouch for hiding his robe, Fangke had wandered over, glanced at it, rolled his eyes, and walked away muttering something about “already marinated through to the bone… truly unnecessary…” — and at the time, Fangke had seemed to be holding a small medicine vial, looking rather similar to the one containing Lin Sui’an’s antidote, though he hadn’t given it to Hua Yitang.

Could it be… could it be that the fragrance he had been wearing all along already carried an antidote effect?

Thinking back, when Lin Sui’an had been poisoned, she had also fallen soundly asleep in his arms — and at the time, he had been overjoyed, imagining that she was — that she must — Lin Sui’an was — at this thought, Hua Yitang felt three parts relief, three parts disappointment, three parts wry resignation, and one part a feeling he couldn’t quite name.

“Young Lord Mutang, what exactly is in the fragrance you’re wearing?” The Zhu family master asked him with a grave expression.

Oh well. Plenty of time for those thoughts later. Business first.

Hua Yitang rallied his spirits, broke into the most sincere and brilliant smile in his arsenal, and clasped his hands respectfully. “This fragrance is called Silver Toad Bathed in Water — a proprietary formula from my family’s Dr. Fang. It calms the mind and stabilizes the spirit, and it appears it happened to suit Auntie Zhu’s condition exactly. How fortunate — it seems Auntie Zhu truly has great fortune and a charmed life!”

The crowd let out a collective sound of understanding. Zhu’s mother was moved to tears. “I am deeply grateful to Young Lord Mutang for coming to my aid and saving my life. From this day forward, I will serve as your ox and horse, will go through fire and water —”

“As for offering your person — that will not be necessary!” Hua Yitang leaped back a full three feet in alarm. “Chief Clerk Zhu and I are as brothers — that would be a matter of generational propriety!”

The crowd looked at one another, and burst out laughing.

Zhu’s mother chuckled heartily and gave Hua Yitang a firm clap on the head. “And what makes you think my standards are so low that I’d take a fancy to a baby who hasn’t even finished growing?!”

Hua Yitang held the top of his head and laughed awkwardly.

Zhu’s mother looked at Hua Yitang’s face, drew a breath, and made a solemn second bow. “Young Lord Mutang’s life-saving grace is immeasurable. I, Zhu Shi Niang, am willing to repay it with my life.”

Leize Quarter, Xiande Manor.

Lin Sui’an frowned. “Big Brother Qiu Eight, that’s called pledging your life in repayment — not offering yourself in marriage.”

Qiu Laoba scratched his head. “Isn’t that pretty much the same thing —”

The onlookers all pressed their hands to their faces. “Absolutely not!”

“Oh!” Qiu Laoba clasped his hands together. “Lady Fang saved my life. I am willing to repay it with my life.”

“That’s quite all right,” Lin Sui’an declined. “I’m not a fortune-teller — a person’s life is no use to me. Keep it for yourself.”

Qiu Laoba burst out laughing. “Then — whenever Lady Fang has need of me, Qiu Laoba is at your service. Just say the word.”

The men all turned thumbs up toward Lin Sui’an in succession:

“Lady Fang risked herself to save someone — truly the bearing of a hero of the rivers and lakes!”

“Lady Fang’s martial arts — could you have trained under some legendary master in seclusion?”

“I’ve been wandering the rivers and lakes for many years and have never seen technique like this. Lady Fang, is there some particular school of thought behind your moves?”

“Ah — I was just born with a lot of strength. I picked up the wolf-tooth club and gave it a toss,” Lin Sui’an waved her hands around by way of demonstration, “and by sheer luck it happened to knock their swords away. It was really all Brother Qiu Eight’s good fortune.”

With that, Lin Sui’an glanced around and beckoned everyone to huddle in. Lowering her voice, she said, “Don’t you all find those three inner compound guards a little off?”

The men looked at one another, expressions caught between wanting to speak and holding back.

Qiu Laoba said in a hushed, mysterious tone: “They’ve definitely been possessed by something evil.”

Lin Sui’an’s brow twitched. The word “also” in that sentence was a very interesting choice.

“How so?”

Qiu Laoba: “Lady Fang — you met the old Manor Lord before. Didn’t you notice anything wrong?”

“The old Manor Lord seemed to be a bit —” Lin Sui’an tapped the side of her head. “Qiu Bo said he’d grown muddled in his old age.”

“Muddled, nothing,” one of the men cut in. “The old Gate Master was possessed.”

Lin Sui’an raised an eyebrow. “Possessed?”

Qiu Laoba nodded vigorously. “This evil thing is particularly vicious. Every night after dark, it attaches itself to the old Manor Lord and sucks out the marrow of his essence — that’s why the old Manor Lord gets more and more confused with each passing day.”

Another man: “So that’s why Xiande Manor doesn’t permit anyone to stay overnight after dark — they’re afraid the evil thing will latch onto someone else!”

Lin Sui’an: “……”

“Don’t look like you don’t believe it,” Qiu Laoba swallowed nervously. “About a month ago, Qiu Bo asked me to go and sweep the old Manor Lord’s courtyard — specifically told me I had to be out before dusk. I don’t know what came over me, but I somehow dozed off while I was sweeping —”

“You just fell asleep because you’re lazy!” someone said.

“Get out of here, stop interrupting.” Qiu Laoba waved him off. “When I opened my eyes, the sun had already set. I was afraid of getting a scolding from Qiu Bo, so I grabbed my broom and tried to sneak out — but just as I backed up to the courtyard gate, I heard —”

Qiu Laoba’s eyes nearly bulged from their sockets, his face a mask of abject terror, “— the sound of a wild beast coming from inside the old Manor Lord’s room. Howling and shrieking — and I could see shadows on the window — a creature with four claws, running and thrashing and tearing around inside the room. I tell you, I was so frightened my bowels went loose — I crawled out of there on all fours. When I got home I burned with fever for three days, and if Qiu Bo hadn’t put up the money to have the brothers carry me up the mountain to Dragon God Temple for sacred water, I might not have made it.”

The sound of a wild beast? A four-clawed creature? Possession?

This was utter nonsense. What kind of superstitious, feudal storytelling had this turned into?

Lin Sui’an said nothing, scratching her head, her mind churning through several hypotheses — and dismissing them each in turn.

Not enough clues or evidence. One cannot jump to conclusions.

Seeing Lin Sui’an’s expression of complete skepticism, the men began enthusiastically sharing their own encounters with the “manor’s strange phenomena.” Perhaps with the added prestige of being “Qiu Laoba’s savior,” Lin Sui’an’s status had vaulted overnight from “the new outsider” to “one of us,” and the information shared in that spirit was extraordinarily rich.

“Lady Fang, let me tell you — the strange things in this manor don’t stop there.”

“Take the kitchen in our outer compound — the stove is never lit, but those ten big vats that are filled to the brim every morning? By the next day, every last drop is gone.”

“Same with the chopped firewood — pile it up in the morning, and by the next morning, not a stick left.”

“No water in the pot, no fire in the stove — so where does all the water and firewood go?”

“It has to be a weasel spirit. My mother always said weasel spirits love to possess people’s bodies.”

“Does a weasel really drink that much water?”

“Maybe it’s a water buffalo spirit?”

“That makes sense — water buffaloes need to drink water and eat grass — no wait, water buffaloes don’t eat firewood.”

“If we have the Dragon God protecting Cheng County, why are all these evil spirits still running rampant? Is the Dragon God slacking off?”

“Ptooey, ptooey, ptooey — how dare you slander the Dragon God! Do you have a death wish?”

“Dragon God, great one on high — I was just talking nonsense, please don’t take it to heart. Amitabha!”

Chatter, chatter, chatter, chatter……

Just as Lin Sui’an was genuinely engrossed in all of this, Qiu Bo came rushing over in a hurry, saying the firewood in the woodshed had gotten damp and needed everyone to get it chopped right away. Lin Sui’an was about to go help, then — a flash of inspiration — doubled over and began moaning and whimpering in the manner she had seen Hua Yitang use when faking illness.

Qiu Laoba was immediately alarmed. “Lady Fang — did you hurt yourself just now while saving me?”

“I stood out in the rain just now, and my stomach is a little —” Lin Sui’an rapidly blinked twice — “sore.”

Qiu Laoba and the other rough-handed men understood at once. Their faces all went a deep embarrassed red. They immediately pleaded with Qiu Bo on her behalf, asking that Lin Sui’an be allowed to rest where she was — this kind of light chopping work was nothing for them to handle. Qiu Bo seemed to be in a genuine rush, gave a few brief instructions asking Lin Sui’an to rest well, and led Qiu Laoba and the others off toward the outer compound.

The moment they were out of sight, Lin Sui’an sprang up, fit as ever, and — working from the map in her memory — circled around the training ground, cut through the small garden, climbed over the corner gate wall, followed the secluded narrow path, and arrived outside the old Manor Lord’s courtyard. One vault, and she was over the wall and inside.

Maybe Hua Yitang really did have the instincts of a crow for bad omens after all — the old Manor Lord’s every word and action did carry some kind of hidden significance. Lin Sui’an thought: the key to breaking open Xiande Manor might very well lie with the old Manor Lord himself.

The entire courtyard was extraordinarily quiet. Rain brushed softly over the grass leaves with a dry whispering sound. The tea room’s door was left slightly ajar, the window cracked open a finger’s width. From within drifted a trace of fragrance — barely perceptible, mist-like, hovering in the rain.

Lin Sui’an moved with utmost lightness, pressed close to the ground, and slipped swiftly toward the window. She was nearly at the wall below the window when — with a bang — both the door and the window snapped shut at the same moment. From inside the tea room came the sound of a beast’s snarling roar.

“Awoooooo——”

Bonus scene:

Lin Sui’an: Well now — so it really has turned into a supernatural story?