Zhu Dachang went and made a circuit of the county town, and returned with one piece of good news and one piece of bad news.

The good news: Xian De Manor had turned every corner of Cheng County upside down and still found no sign of Lin Sui’an or Hua Yitang.

The bad news: Qiu Hong had gone to the County Magistrate Qiu’s residence, intending to ask His Honor to issue an official arrest warrant listing Fang’an, Mu Tang, Fangke, and the others as wanted criminals.

If that warrant were successfully issued, he — the illustrious Registrar of Cheng County — would become an accomplice guilty of harboring wanted fugitives.

Zhu Dachang sighed inwardly at the rueful lament, then composed his expression and strolled back to the county office. He entered the rear courtyard, stepped into the main room, and turned to pull the door shut.

The room was thick with steam and moisture. In the northeast corner, Ita had requisitioned his wind furnace, tea kettle, tea grinder, and tea strainer. In the kettle, an unknown black liquid bubbled and rolled, boiling water churning in great bursts — churning up an unspeakable sharp and pungent smell that strongly resembled the odor of Li Nili’s socks after three months without washing.

The handsome face of the Persian youth was shrouded in black steam, the blue gleam in his eyes flickering in and out with an eerie, wolfish light.

In the northwest corner, Fangke had commandeered his bookshelf and writing desk. All the books had been stacked on the floor, replaced by several dozen small porcelain vials — three cun tall, sealed with red wax, each labeled with a dense cluster of strange codes. Fangke sat at the writing desk grinding medicinal powder, weighing medicinal herbs, and blending all manner of peculiar powders together. At the corner of the desk, a small wooden box held two glass vials shimmering with rainbow iridescence, cushioned carefully in cotton padding — treated as something quite precious.

Zhu Dachang pinched his nose, glanced at Ita, then drifted over to Fangke’s side. “Master Fang, how goes the antidote?”

Fangke silently raised his head, silently stared at Zhu Dachang, his dry, cold features forming one unmistakable character: Get out!

Having served as an official for many years, if Zhu Dachang had learned any single lesson, it was this: know which way the wind is blowing. He read the message in an instant, and retreated in dejection to the window, clasping his hands behind his back to gaze at the sky.

After more than a month of rain, it was finally beginning to clear. Along the line where mountain met sky, a layer of cinnabar-red light was appearing. Then that sliver of light gradually transformed — darkening to deep red, then fading to violet, then easing into a blue-green, then deepening to a dense, dark blue. Night was falling.

Along the street outside the county office, torches were being lit. Xian De Manor had enlisted the Taoist priests of the Dragon God Temple to come down from the mountain to help. Zhu Dachang knew — tonight was sure to be a sleepless one.

“Registrar Zhu, Master Fang, Ita — please come eat dinner.” Mu Xia carried a tray into the room and laid out six dishes and a soup, one by one.

Since his residence had been invaded, Mu Xia’s cooking had become the sole comfort in Zhu Dachang’s dismal existence. He tasted a mouthful of the lamb soup with flat noodles and felt every bone and muscle in his body ease with contentment.

Ita served up the dark tea brew. Fangke drank it down without so much as a change of expression, then even smacked his lips with evident relish afterward. Zhu Dachang didn’t dare refuse, so he forced it down in a grimace — and the happiness the lamb soup had brought instantly vanished. He sighed heavily despite himself.

Fangke picked up a piece of braised bamboo shoots with chicken. “Registrar Zhu, any news?”

Zhu Dachang quickly set down his chopsticks and clasped his hands. “At present, there is still no news of Commissioner Hua or Miss Lin.”

Fangke nodded. “No news is good news.”

Ita kept his eyes fixed on the lamb soup with flat noodles, too worried to have much appetite. Mu Xia pushed his greens back and forth with his chopsticks, equally unable to eat.

Fangke finished half a bowl of the soup in one go. “Those two are neither of them easy, simple people — one sharp as a blade, the other peerless in martial skill. They will not let themselves go hungry. If you starve yourselves, they will only worry when they return.”

Ita wiped his nose and buried his face in the bowl of soup. Mu Xia, red-eyed, stuffed his mouth full of greens.

Zhu Dachang: “And Young Master Jin — where has he gone?”

Fangke: “Don’t worry. The moment it’s time to eat, he’ll appear.”

The words had barely left his mouth when Jin Ruo came whooshing in like a gust of wind, grabbed his chopsticks, and swept through half the table in a blur, so fast that Zhu Dachang scrambled to snatch two pieces of bamboo shoots before they were gone.

“The Dragon God Temple’s Abbot Xuanming has suddenly announced a closed-door retreat. I went to take a look — the whole temple is in a state of tension and unease, nobody knows what’s going on. As for that fellow Yun Zhong Yue — predictably unreliable as ever, not a single word getting out.” Jin Ruo stuffed a chicken leg into his mouth, gave it one twist and one yank, and left nothing but a bare bone — a display that left Zhu Dachang in silent awe.

“Adding up the Taoist priests in the city and the Xian De Manor guards, their combined numbers are five times that of our county office and constables — currently all under Qiu Hong’s direct command. I also took a look outside County Magistrate Qiu’s residence. Heavy troops are posted there, not even a fly can get in.” Jin Ruo glanced at Zhu Dachang. “Four Sides Manor’s gates are shut tight — your mother won’t have any trouble, will she?”

“I may only be a Registrar, but even they wouldn’t dare do anything to Four Sides Manor,” Zhu Dachang said.

Jin Ruo gave a nod, then asked, “How is Master Fang’s progress on the antidote?”

Fangke finished another half bowl of the soup and let out a satisfied belch. “Progress is very slow. I need talisman water.”

Jin Ruo scratched his head. “That’s incredibly difficult.”

“Or—” Fangke looked toward Zhu Dachang, “—a patient with the poisoning symptoms would also do.”

Zhu Dachang: “Huh?”

In the next instant, with the speed of thunder before one’s ears can register, Fangke seized Zhu Dachang’s wrist. Zhu Dachang gave a startled lurch, and only realized Fangke was simply taking his pulse. He exhaled in relief — only to watch Fangke’s fingers press and release against the pulse point again and again, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper, and his heart climbed right back into his throat.

Suddenly, Fangke let out a heavy sigh.

Zhu Dachang’s face went white as a sheet. “Am — am I beyond saving?”

“What a pity,” Fangke said, fixing Zhu Dachang with a doleful stare. “You’re not poisoned.”

Zhu Dachang: “…”

Is this man actually a physician?! Why does it seem like he’s genuinely disappointed that I’m not poisoned?!

“How wonderful it would be if a poisoned patient just walked through the door right now,” Fangke said.

Zhu Dachang: “…”

This man is not a physician. He is a demon from the depths of hell!

Jin Ruo sighed. “That line would land better coming from a certain fellow surnamed Hua.”

Zhu Dachang: “Wh — what do you mean?”

Jin Ruo flashed a grin. “Because that young scoundrel is heaven’s number one jinx.”

Mu Xia: “Nothing good ever sticks — only the bad things come true.”

Ita: “Si’lang is mighty.”

Zhu Dachang: What is there to be mighty about in that?!

“Registrar, Registrar, Registrar — disaster, disaster, disaster!” Li Nili came sprinting in at full tilt, pointing outside in alarm. “Your mother is here!”

Zhu Dachang shot three feet into the air. “What?! Quick, quick, quick — stop her, don’t let her come in no matter what!”

Li Nili: “We’ve been trying — but—”

“Move out of the old woman’s way, all of you! If you hold me up, you’ll all be sorry!”

A roar like a lioness from the east shook heaven and earth. Madam Zhu came charging through the courtyard with unstoppable momentum. The constables didn’t dare go near her, cowering far back outside the courtyard entrance. Zhu Dachang hadn’t even bothered with his shoes — just his cloth socks — as he rushed out. “Mother, don’t—”

Madam Zhu backhanded him out of the way without breaking stride, and marched straight up to the main room door. Fangke, Ita, Mu Xia, and Jin Ruo all stared up at her in unison — Madam Zhu, standing there like the fearsome wrathful guardian of a temple — and every last one of them froze.

Madam Zhu let out a long exhale. “Master Fang, I thought as much — you’re here. Wonderful.”

Zhu Dachang came staggering up behind her. “Mo — Mother, how did you know—”

Madam Zhu glanced at her son. “You may not have much in the way of ability, but you would never stand by and watch a friend fall into danger. If there is anyone left in this Cheng County willing to protect Master Fang, it could only be you.”

Zhu Dachang’s eyes reddened. “Mother…”

“Enough with the sniveling — what kind of behavior is that?!”

Fangke gave a quiet cough, rose, straightened his sleeves, and bowed in greeting. “What business brings Aunt Zhu to seek me out?”

Madam Zhu pressed her fists together in a solemn salute. “I know of Master Fang’s extraordinary medical skill. I have come to ask Master Fang to save a life!”

Jin Ruo, Mu Xia, and Ita’s eyes all went wide. Zhu Dachang was dumbstruck, thinking to himself:

This whole crowd is made up of jinxes!

The patients were a mother and son. The boy was called A’Niu — the very child who had fallen suddenly ill on the day of the Dragon God Temple’s offering ceremony. This time, his mother, Qiu Sanniang, had fallen ill alongside him.

Even with Jin Ruo serving as a human map to guide the way — avoiding Xian De Manor and Dragon God Temple’s search parties to get Qiu Sanniang and A’Niu to the county office — it still took no small amount of effort.

When Fangke saw the mother and son, their condition was already far from encouraging. Both were lying on the bed with eyes tightly shut, their complexions an ashen green, their lips a dark purple, hands and feet cold as ice, breathing barely perceptible, their bodies trembling faintly. Fangke lifted their eyelids: in both mother and child, the whites of the eyes showed a creeping blue-green tint. Their pulse was abnormally rapid.

Fangke gave his diagnosis without hesitation: “Dragon God Fruit poisoning!”

Madam Zhu was horrified. “Dragon God Fruit? That’s impossible! Dragon God Fruit only grows on the southern shore of Dragon God Lake. Dragon God Lake is sacred ground in Cheng County — no ordinary citizen of Cheng County would dare go near it except on the Dragon God Festival. And besides, the southern Dragon Gate leading to the lake is never opened at other times.”

Fangke tested the temperature of each person’s neck with his fingers, then added, “To be precise — they have been poisoned by the Dragon God Temple’s talisman water.”

Madam Zhu was so stunned she couldn’t utter a word.

Fangke glanced at Madam Zhu as if about to say something, then swallowed it back. He went to the medicine table, picked up a white porcelain vial, and then thought for a moment and also brought over the two glass vials from the wooden box. First, he tipped two green medicinal pills from the white porcelain vial and placed one each in Qiu Sanniang and A’Niu’s mouths. Then he took the newly refined white fragrance pills from the glass vials, placed them in teacups, and asked Mu Xia to dissolve them with warm water before carefully feeding the mixture to each of them.

Madam Zhu said with recognition, “I know this fragrance. It’s the same scent as what Mu Tang carries on him — he said it was called Silver Toad Bath. He told me it had a calming, spirit-settling effect. That scent even saved my life once today.”

Fangke’s brow moved slightly. He stepped forward and pressed his fingers to Madam Zhu’s pulse for a moment, then quietly let out a breath. “Silver Toad Bath is the catalyst for the antidote… precisely as I suspected.”

Zhu Dachang suddenly understood, and his face drained to the color of paper. “Could it — could it be that Mother’s palpitation condition is also — also—”

Fangke: “Aunt Zhu’s heart palpitation condition does indeed stem from the talisman water poison.”

Madam Zhu: “How can that be?! Every last citizen of Cheng County has drunk the talisman water. It’s the medicine that keeps us alive!”

From the unfathomable depths of Fangke’s eyes, a cold, piercing light flared. “The talisman water is not medicine that saves lives. It is poison that ends them.”

“Are you holding up?” Lin Sui’an asked.

“N-n-n-not… not really,” Hua Yitang replied.

Lin Sui’an didn’t know whether to laugh or despair. Ever since they had entered the secret passage, Hua Yitang had been inching closer and closer. At first he had only held her hand; then he had been clutching her wrists with both hands; and now he was clinging to her arm like a large, slow-moving sloth, shuffling along and shivering the entire time.

Lin Sui’an even suspected that at the slightest unexpected noise, he might vault directly onto her back. She sighed. “Men in this world all consider cowardice a disgrace. Even if they’re scared half to death, they would never admit it. Aren’t you afraid people will mock you for being like this?”

“I haven’t done anything wrong or wicked — I’m simply afraid of the dark. What is there to be ashamed of? Let those who want to laugh go right ahead — what does it have to do with me? This breadth of spirit and dignity, this uniqueness and independence of the Hua clan — how could people of that sort of prim and proper hypocrisy ever hope to fathom—” His voice cut off mid-sentence. He sucked in a sharp breath and the entire person shrank behind Lin Sui’an. “Wh — what was that sound?!”

Lin Sui’an raised the night-luminescent pearl and checked. “You stepped on a rock,” she said with resignation.

This person — saying the most unyielding things, and doing the most cowardly of things.

Hua Yitang let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders hunching and neck shrinking, eyes rolling this way and that. He noticed that Lin Sui’an kept periodically holding up the night-luminescent pearl to light up the walls on either side. Puzzled, he asked, “Why do you keep checking the side walls?”

“The last time I explored the secret passage in the Dragon God Temple with Yun Zhong Yue, I noticed that the Dragon God Temple’s mechanisms are set into the passage walls,” Lin Sui’an said. “I keep feeling that this passage has some similarities to the Dragon God Temple’s.”

Hua Yitang suddenly fell silent. He even shifted himself half a step away — though only half a step, no more. Lin Sui’an was fully focused on finding the way and paid no attention. After a long pause, Hua Yitang suddenly blurted:

“Who is better-looking — me or Yun Zhong Yue?”

Lin Sui’an nearly lost her grip on the night-luminescent pearl entirely.

“Pardon?”

Hua Yitang went silent again. His nose made a small huffing sound. By his tone, he seemed to be — sulking?

Lin Sui’an couldn’t tell if she was imagining it, but there seemed to be a distinct whiff of vinegar in the air.

Lin Sui’an swallowed her laughter. “I have never seen Yun Zhong Yue’s face clearly. I have no basis for comparison.”

Hua Yitang made two more disgruntled sounds.

“All right, all right, all right — Fourth Young Master Hua is the most flamboyant, the most elaborately adorned, the most magnificently splendid, and the most strikingly, breathtakingly beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on. Happy now?”

Hua Yitang made two more grudging sounds, then shuffled over and resumed clinging to Lin Sui’an’s arm.

Such a dramatic little child, Lin Sui’an thought in private amusement.

The passage ran deeper than expected. What should have been an eerie, terrifying journey had somehow been derailed by Hua Yitang’s antics. Between talking and bickering, they walked all the way to the end of the passage before they knew it. Ahead, a faint trace of light was beginning to show.

Lin Sui’an put away the night-luminescent pearl. With one hand shielding Hua Yitang, she angled her body into a guarded stance and crept slowly forward. The light source grew brighter and brighter — a narrow opening, its edges rough and uneven, bearing clear signs of having been hand-carved. Neither dared rush ahead. They crouched down, pressed themselves against the opening, and peered outside.

Beyond the opening was a spacious natural cavern, soaring more than ten zhang high. A ring of torches hung from the cavern walls, their swaying light illuminating the ceiling — dense with stalactites that hung like an upside-down black forest.

Directly ahead stood rows upon rows of five-tiered solid wood display shelves — dozens of them, each about the height of a person, every shelf crammed with small gourds gleaming with lacquered oil, sealed with red wax. There were thousands of them at least.

Hua Yitang sucked in a sharp breath. “It’s the Dragon God Temple’s talisman water!”

Lin Sui’an signaled him to keep quiet. She listened with keen attention. The cavern was vast and utterly silent — only the low resonance of wind threading through the stalactites, and the crackling hiss of torches burning.

No footsteps. No sound of breathing.

Lin Sui’an relaxed. She pulled Hua Yitang through the opening, and they began walking along the rows of display shelves. Hua Yitang casually picked up one of the gourds, gave it a shake, and his face lit up — it was full. He promptly tucked it into his robe.

The rows of display shelves soon came to an end. Ahead were more rows — this time embroidery frames, also about the height of a person. A third were empty; the other two-thirds were hung with embroideries of birds, flowers, mountains, and rivers. The needlework was rough, with little artistic merit. Hua Yitang recognized them at a single glance — these were Four Sides Manor’s embroideries. Some of the designs were even ones he himself had helped improve.

Every single embroidery was wet.

The two exchanged a glance and pressed on past the rows of embroidery frames. Ahead the space opened up dramatically, revealing more than thirty large dye vats. Above the vats were mounted frames with suspended rope mechanisms, resembling simple cranes. Some of the frames were empty; others had dripping embroideries hanging from them. More than half the vats held embroideries soaking within.

Hua Yitang leaned over one of the vats for a closer sniff. Then he pulled out the gourd from his robe, uncorked it, and gave it a sniff too. He quickly jammed the stopper back in, tore off two strips of fabric without a word, handed one to Lin Sui’an, and covered his own mouth and nose with the other. “The liquid in the vats smells very similar to the talisman water in the gourd.”

Lin Sui’an’s face filled with alarm. Pressing the cloth over her nose, she said, “You’re saying they’re dyeing the embroideries in talisman water?”

Hua Yitang looked again more carefully. “The talisman water has no color — it’s not for dyeing. I suspect that once the embroideries are fully soaked in talisman water and dried, the toxicity of the talisman water becomes bonded to the fabric, after which it can be transported and sold.”

Lin Sui’an: “…”

Well. Her law-abiding, rule-following nature had clearly been a constraint on her imagination.

Hua Yitang: “The stockpile of talisman water and embroideries here far exceeds anything Cheng County could absorb. Their buyers must be in Guangdu — no, not just Guangdu. Yangdu, Yidu, even the Eastern Capital and the Northern Capital. Oh dear, oh dear — this is something tremendous!”

Lin Sui’an raised an eyebrow: So this operation has truly gone nationwide!

The two of them locked eyes for a moment, their gazes bright and burning, sharing an unspoken understanding — and broke into grins.

Hua Yitang: “As expected of my Fourth Young Master Hua — when fortune comes, not even a dam can hold it back.”

Lin Sui’an: “Indeed. Absolute dumb luck.”

Both covering their noses with makeshift cloth masks, they split up and searched separately. Lin Sui’an found three more passages. Drawing on the rudimentary tracking skills she had picked up from Jin Ruo, she assessed the wear patterns and determined that the middle passage had seen the most foot traffic — it was most likely the safest way out.

Hua Yitang did two sweeps around the edges of the cavern, then laughed. “As expected — to maintain the torch lighting, they stocked fire oil.”

As he spoke, he hurled a jug of fire oil outward. Lin Sui’an sent a stone flying to shatter it in midair. The oil exploded upward like a fountain. Hua Yitang laughed out loud, and set to work methodically. Five or six more jugs of fire oil went sailing into the air, then broke apart and rained down like an oil shower, dousing every corner of the cavern with democratic thoroughness.

Lin Sui’an leapt onto the wall, pulled down a torch, spun around, and landed back on the ground. She waited at the cavern exit. Hua Yitang strolled over to her side without a care in the world. They looked at each other and smiled. Lin Sui’an wound up her arm and hurled the torch in a wide arc toward the center of the cavern.

Burn the whole thing down!