What in the blazes!
The moment Dong Cheng shouted that, Lin Sui’an knew things had gone badly wrong.
He knew he was outnumbered, so he was using the bad blood between the Feng and Hua Families to sow discord and fish in troubled waters.
And as bad luck would have it, Feng Song had believed it. He was holding a blood-dripping wooden box in his hands as well, eyes red and bloodshot as he screamed: “Hua Yitang — I knew it was you all along! Everyone — seize him! Whoever captures Hua Yitang gets a hundred gold!”
“Capture Hua Yitang!” The Feng contingent screamed and charged.
“What idiots!”
“Eat dog filth!”
Lin Sui’an and Hua Yitang both shouted at once. Hua Yitang raised his folded fan. “Capture Dong Cheng!”
The words were barely out when Lin Sui’an had already sprinted forward, Qian Jing unsheathed. The blade flashed like a thin sliver of green aurora slicing through the night. She was fast — in a few strides she had left Ling Zhiyan and Jin Ruo several zhang behind her. But Dong Cheng was faster: he kicked A Long and Wa’er flying and came charging straight at Feng Song’s forces with a shout.
“Hua the Fourth — I’ll slaughter every last Feng dog for you!”
“Capture Dong Cheng!” Mu Zhong led the charge in pursuit.
“The Hua Family is trying to silence us!” Feng Song bellowed. “Take them alive!”
In the span of those two exchanges, Dong Cheng had already reached the front of the Feng contingent. His long blade crashed down, and a spray of crimson blood erupted — two men were cut in half at the waist, dying instantly. The upper halves of their bodies tumbled to Feng Song’s feet. Feng Song let out a screech and sat down on the ground. Bai Fan and Yan Yan fainted outright.
The Feng Family’s enforcers didn’t dare face this man again, and went surging instead at the Mu Family merchant caravan people.
“He has nothing to do with the Hua Family — why are you hitting us?!” Mu Zhong raged.
But no one listened to him. The Feng and Hua Families had accumulated years of deep resentment, suppressed and bottled up — and with Dong Cheng’s spark to set them off, they exploded. Both sides charged each other without care, a melee of shouting and clashing blades that made the very ground rumble.
Now things had become a real disaster. Originally Lin Sui’an had been only three or four zhang from Dong Cheng — but with the crowd surging, the distance between them doubled in an instant. What was more infuriating, the Feng Family’s enforcers spotted a lone young woman in the fray and saw an easy target. Seven or eight of them closed in from all directions, their crossed blades cutting off Lin Sui’an’s line of sight.
“Your ancestors!” Lin Sui’an erupted in fury, blade flashing like lightning, feet stamping up gusts of wind — blocking blades, driving elbows, knees, and fists, body spinning and leaping, connecting with flying kicks in rapid succession. She cut through a whole circle of men, held up her blade, and glared. “Looking to die?! Back off!”
The surrounding enforcers staggered back in shock, scattering in a rush. “That woman’s vicious! Retreat! Retreat!”
Lin Sui’an swept her gaze around — everywhere, a brawling mass of bodies. Dong Cheng had vanished.
No! A ruse to lure the tiger from the mountain!
She spun and charged back. This time she was in no mood to hold back. Wherever Qian Jing passed, blood flew like bursting fireworks. Fortunately the Feng Family’s enforcers were pampered idlers rather than men with nothing left to lose — once Lin Sui’an had wounded three of them they understood the danger, and a row of them cleared a path for her all at once.
The wind drove into her eyes, making them ache. For the first time Lin Sui’an felt genuine resentment toward this era’s architectural conventions. Who needed a courtyard this large? She could run as fast as she liked and still couldn’t defy the laws of physics. As she sprinted, she saw Ling Zhiyan and Jin Ruo being surrounded by a group of enforcers — Ling Zhiyan was fighting and retreating, shouting “I am an inspector of the Court of Judicial Review! This is a misunderstanding! Everyone stand down!” while Jin Ruo was yelling “Shouting is useless, they’ve all lost their minds, no one is listening to you!” Ming Shu and Ming Feng had been cut off, unable to break free to help.
Lin Sui’an scanned quickly — no sign of Dong Cheng. She swatted away a fool of an enforcer who had wandered into her path and kept running. She saw the Feng Family enforcers locked in a brawl with the wastrels. Facing these wealthy young men, the enforcers clearly didn’t dare go all out; the wastrels, on the other hand, were entirely without restraint, fighting with every dirty trick and street-brawling technique they knew. The postures were ugly, but the battle cries were thunderous — and somehow it managed to feel desperately heroic. Lin Sui’an kicked an enforcer off Pei Shijun and bellowed, “Where is Hua Yitang?!”
“Over here!” A voice came from the left. Lin Sui’an snapped her head around — and there was Hua Yitang, straddling an enforcer, scratching and clawing at him with both hands, while Mu Xia wielded a tea kettle with his left hand and a tea ladle with his right, launching indiscriminate boiling-water attacks against every enforcer who tried to get near Hua Yitang — scalding the surrounding men into a chorus of yelps and shrieks.
In the instant Lin Sui’an saw Hua Yitang, the heart she had been holding in her throat dropped back down into her chest with a thud, hitting so hard her chest physically ached.
Thank heaven… thank heaven!
Lin Sui’an let out a slow breath and stepped toward Hua Yitang. “Dong Cheng has disappeared — something’s wrong—”
“Behind you!” Hua Yitang shouted.
The hairs on Lin Sui’an’s back stood up. She felt a gust of wind bearing straight down on the back of her skull, and by sheer reflex she tucked her chin, hunched her chest, and swung Qian Jing backward in a reverse slash. Tsst! A spray of blood droplets hit the ground. Lin Sui’an only caught a glimpse of a foot launching upward before the moment arrived — an overwhelming blade-light, like a blizzard of ice spears, came crashing down. Lin Sui’an was taken aback. Both hands gripped the blade and she scrambled to meet it; every blow carried tremendous force, numbing her arms and sending her staggering back step after step. After only three or four exchanges, blood was already welling from the webbing of her hands, and she barely managed to block Dong Cheng’s blade.
Dong Cheng’s blade-light was cold as frost and ice. Qian Jing’s dark green metal gleamed like a venomous serpent’s eye. As the two-colored blades flickered and collided, Lin Sui’an looked into Dong Cheng’s eyes: bloodshot and savage, mad with the hunger to kill.
She was going to die.
Lin Sui’an’s mind went off like a struck bell. Her vision bled to black and white. Qian Jing’s keen ringing and the thundering in her skull merged into one, shaking her viscera, and blood surged against the current upward through her body. A surging power erupted from within her, and Lin Sui’an let out a cry. Qian Jing drove upward in reverse, forcing Dong Cheng back three steps.
Dong Cheng smiled — baring blood-stained teeth. He shifted from one-handed to two-handed grip and attacked again. The two-colored blades clashed in a frenzy, sparks showering.
Lin Sui’an knew her body had once again lost control, but she was helpless to do anything about it. She could only float like a rootless thing inside this body, watching herself fight Dong Cheng from a remove. Perhaps because the bystander sees most of the game, this time she saw clearly: every one of her attacks was a kill-or-be-killed style of assault — no defense at all, only attack, attack, attack, killing without holding back, kill kill kill!
Her hearing began to fade. An endless killing intent flooded her like a tide, crashing against her precarious consciousness — kill! Kill! Kill!! Kill them all! Kill them all and it will be over!
“Lin Sui’an!!” Suddenly a voice cut through the black-and-white like a ray of morning light. Lin Sui’an jolted. She followed the sound and saw Hua Yitang holding the tea kettle with both hands, out of breath, looking at her. In those beautiful, wide eyes of his, a reddish glistening had risen again.
Ah — he was timid; had she frightened him again?
The moment that thought surfaced, all five senses returned at once, and a searing, bone-deep pain shot from her arms into her brain. Lin Sui’an realized then that her frenzied attack may have already cracked her own arm bones.
Dong Cheng made a quiet noise. He suddenly pressed his blade down. Lin Sui’an’s vision went dark with pain and she dropped to one knee. Dong Cheng’s blade, pressing Qian Jing flat, sliced down onto her shoulder — the skin split open, blood poured. But at that very instant, Hua Yitang let out a shout and hurled the scorching-hot tea kettle at Dong Cheng. Dong Cheng kicked Lin Sui’an aside, spun around, cleaved the kettle apart, and in one motion lunged forward and seized Hua Yitang by the throat, locking him in the crook of his arm.
Lin Sui’an scrambled to her feet. “Let him go!”
Dong Cheng let out a scornful laugh. Holding Hua Yitang with one arm, he took a running start and leapt, both feet thunk-thunk-thunk running up the column of the main hall, the other hand hooking the eaves, and in a flash he was on the roof. Lin Sui’an gave chase immediately, and with a few leaps she was up there too — the two of them in front and behind, tiles clattering under their feet. Dong Cheng was faster, and in a few strides was at the hall’s ridge beam. His blade lay flat against Hua Yitang’s neck. Lin Sui’an’s feet faltered, and she stopped ten paces away.
Dong Cheng glanced at Lin Sui’an, then raised his voice. “Feng Yuyi is alive!”
The whole scene went abruptly silent. Everyone froze. Only then did the Hua Family’s people realize Hua Yitang had been taken — every face went white.
Feng Song shoved aside the family retainers protecting him and rushed forward. “What did you say?!”
“I’m saying you’re a fool,” Dong Cheng said with a smile. “Feng Yuyi is more useful alive than dead — why would I kill him?”
Feng Song: “Where is my grandson the Third?!”
Dong Cheng looked down from his height at the crowd below, satisfaction written all over his face. “At this moment, the heirs of the two most powerful and influential families in Yangdu are both in my hands. So — does that mean all of you do what I say?”
Ling Zhiyan stepped forward, his expression as grave as night. “What exactly do you want?!”
“What I want—” Dong Cheng sighed. The moonlight swept across his face, white as frost and snow. “What I want — you cannot give.”
Lin Sui’an’s heart moved. “You are Zheng Dong?”
Dong Cheng neither confirmed nor denied it.
Lin Sui’an spoke quickly: “Xi Zu — Zheng Xi — is your younger brother. Is Zheng Xi’s case unjust? Did you commit all these crimes to seek justice for him?”
“As long as you release Hua Yitang and Feng Yuyi,” Ling Zhiyan called out, “no matter the injustice, the Court of Judicial Review will give you a fair verdict!”
Dong Cheng looked at Ling Zhiyan in silence for a moment, then brought his gaze back to Lin Sui’an’s face. The blade pressed against Hua Yitang’s snow-white neck; a thin trickle of red ran along the blade’s edge.
Lin Sui’an nearly lost her breath.
“Stop! Whatever you want — the Hua Family will give it!” Mu Zhong shouted urgently.
“I’d like to play a game with all of you,” Dong Cheng said.
Everyone’s expressions changed in shock.
Jin Ruo leapt up. “Are you out of your mind?!”
“It would be my great honor!” The one being held at knifepoint, Hua Yitang, spoke up. His face was rendered pale and blue in the blade-light, and yet a faint luminescence shone in his pupils, his lips even carrying a ghost of a smile. Paired with the trail of blood below his eye, it was somehow both radiant and wickedly striking. “When it comes to games and entertainment, I am without rival in all of Yangdu — no one dares claim second place.”
Lin Sui’an nearly spat blood: At a time like this, could you please stop showing off?!
“Guess me a poem riddle,” Dong Cheng said. “Guess correctly and there’s a prize.”
“Is the prize my life?” Hua Yitang asked.
“One hour. Guess correctly, and you can exchange two lives.”
“The other person is Feng Yuyi?”
Dong Cheng glanced at the night sky. “Time is running. Let’s begin.”
“What’s the riddle?” Hua Yitang asked.
“Bookish fragrance hides a rotten hue, one cavity of filth from the literary gate.”
Dong Cheng’s voice reverberated across the entire Red Makeup Ward, tearing through the thin remnants of cloud in the night sky.
Lin Sui’an’s head buzzed. She knew this terrible, nonsensical verse — it marked practically the start of her bad luck in Yangdu.
Feng Song’s face went the color of gold foil. “Who exactly are you? What do you want?!”
Hua Yitang: “What is the riddle’s answer?”
Dong Cheng: “A place.”
“What is the scope?”
“Within the sixty-seven wards of Yangdu City.”
Hua Yitang’s eyes flashed. “Is it where you’re keeping Feng Yuyi?”
Dong Cheng curled his lip. “Only one hour. If time runs out, you and Feng Yuyi both die.”
“What’s there to guess about?!” Jin Ruo shouted. “Literary fragrance, literary gate — it must be the Feng Residence or the Feng Family’s private academy!”
“Wrong.” Dong Cheng cut Hua Yitang’s face without hesitation — a diagonal slash from the cheekbone upward. Scarlet blood ran down, like a trail of bloody tears.
A collective gasp went through the crowd. Mu Xia nearly fainted. Mu Zhong spat out a mouthful of blood. Jin Ruo covered his mouth and didn’t dare make another sound.
Lin Sui’an’s heart hammered. The trembling sensation in her body reappeared — an overwhelming killing intent surged up again. She bit down hard on the tip of her tongue and forced herself to stay calm.
Hua Yitang was in Dong Cheng’s hands. If she lost control again, she might cut Hua Yitang down with him.
She could not kill. She could not lose control!
In the cool clear moonlight, Hua Yitang looked across the distance at Lin Sui’an. His lips, pale as petals, curved. Paired with the bloody track beneath his eye, he looked oddly, brilliantly radiant.
He said: “Lin Sui’an — don’t be afraid.”
“Afraid of what?!” Lin Sui’an spat out a mouthful of blood. “I’m afraid you’ll break from fright!”
“Time is running,” Dong Cheng reminded them.
“Who has a map of Yangdu’s wards?!” Ling Zhiyan shouted.
Mu Zhong unrolled a scroll and spread it on the ground. Ling Zhiyan’s eyes darted across it. Wa’er rushed over. “I can recite the chant for Yangdu’s twenty-six bridges!”
“Recite it!”
“Nine curves at Crow Ward, Wash Horse, Climb, and Old Lady’s Span, Zhou Family, Small Market, Broad Aid, Jade Emerald, Kaiming, Cai’s Way to Peace, benefit to the south, reach heaven to the north, adjutant cuts east to west, north three middle three south three nine, four wards six and seven—”
Ling Zhiyan’s finger flew across the map following Wa’er’s words, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead. Feng Song was still pulling at his sleeve from the side: “Ling Zhiyan, go faster!”
“Silence!” Ming Shu slapped Feng Song to one side. Ling Zhiyan had no time to even look up; he raised his voice again: “Hua Yitang — I’m not familiar with Yangdu!”
But the hostage Hua Yitang seemed utterly unhurried. “As expected — in the crucial moment, it still comes down to me.”
Lin Sui’an nearly lost her mind. “Can you stop showing off for one moment?!”
“Ling the Sixth — go and find someone from the Division of Household Affairs. The best would be if they can bring along the household registers for the twelve wards of the southwest city. Check whether Qi Yuansheng is still at the yamen — if so, bring him too!” Hua Yitang shouted. “Jin Ruo — get everyone from the Ten Purity Sect who knows the southwest twelve wards over here! Mu Zhong — bring the thirteenth steward!”
Ling Zhiyan, Jin Ruo, and Mu Zhong all had no idea what he was doing, but there was no time to ask — they split up and moved immediately.
Lin Sui’an noticed that when Hua Yitang finished giving those instructions, Dong Cheng’s killing intent visibly receded by three parts. She seized the moment, tore a strip from her sleeve hem, bit one end to hold it, and used it to bind Qian Jing tightly to her hand. She said nothing, fixing her eyes on Dong Cheng and waiting for an opening.
Dong Cheng seemed utterly indifferent to Lin Sui’an’s movements. Right now he was far more interested in Hua Yitang. “You can deduce the answer from all that?”
“This poem appeared suddenly half a month ago and spread widely across Yangdu — catchy, simple enough for a three-year-old to understand, clearly referring to the Feng Family. Yet you say the Feng Residence and the Feng private academy are both wrong.” Hua Yitang lowered his voice; what followed could be heard only by him, Dong Cheng, and Lin Sui’an standing a short distance away: “Then there is only one possibility — this place is connected to the Feng Family, and yet is not the Feng Family.”
Lin Sui’an was stunned. Does this wastrel know what he’s saying?!
“Everything you have done — the killings, the mutilations, seizing Feng Yuyi — has been for today: provoking a brawl between the Hua and Feng Families, deepening the rift between them, and taking me hostage. But you didn’t take me hostage in order to kill me — you took me to force me to do something you cannot do yourself.” Hua Yitang raised his eyes toward Dong Cheng, his long lashes luminous in the moonlight. “Or rather — to force the Hua Family to do something.”
Lin Sui’an: What?!
Dong Cheng’s eyes grew wider and wider, the pulse at his neck beating faster and faster.
“You need to find a place that is closely tied to the Feng Family but very well hidden. You cannot locate it… no — perhaps you’ve already located it but can’t get in. Or perhaps you got in but couldn’t find what you were looking for. You need to thoroughly search that place, but that is too difficult. Unless—” Hua Yitang drew a breath — “unless someone with a compelling and unavoidable reason were to storm the place by force and search it against all resistance. But the Feng Family holds significant power in Yangdu and has a close personal relationship with the Prefect — no one can search the Feng Family’s territory. So, looking at the whole of Yangdu — the only family capable of doing that is the Hua Family.”
Dong Cheng broke into a grin. “Hua Family’s Fourth Young Master — your reputation is well-deserved. You’re clever to the point of being uncanny!”
“Tell me the answer quietly,” Hua Yitang said with a smile, “and I’ll help you tear that place apart.”
“You’re not helping me — you want to make trouble for the Feng Family yourself.”
“Don’t see through me and say so. Leave people some dignity. We’ve talked this far — we’re practically in the same boat now. Loosen your grip a little and let me breathe, won’t you?”
“You think I’m an idiot? The moment I relax, that young woman over there will cut me down.”
“She can’t even beat you — what are you afraid of?”
“The holder of Qian Jing cannot be underestimated. I won’t risk it.”
Hua Yitang and Dong Cheng bantered back and forth, sounding almost like old friends catching up. Lin Sui’an, however, was growing increasingly tense. She could clearly feel that although Dong Cheng appeared composed, as time went on his eyes were growing more and more agitated.
Suddenly, Lin Sui’an’s gaze caught Dong Cheng’s heel trembling slightly — a muscle spasm, it seemed. She quietly stepped back half a pace and changed her angle of observation, and at once her heart leapt.
A small pool of blood had formed under Dong Cheng’s left foot. Because of his all-black clothing and the way he had deliberately kept his left side hidden behind Hua Yitang, she hadn’t noticed until now.
When had he been injured? She thought back — it must have been when he ambushed her and she had swung Qian Jing in reverse. At the time she’d thought it was only a flesh wound, but now looking at Dong Cheng’s reaction, she had clearly underestimated the body’s stress response. From his behavior, the injury had at minimum affected the muscle or tendons.
Lin Sui’an let out a slow breath, steadied herself, raised Qian Jing level with her eyes, and cleared her mind of all else. Every thread of her attention converged on Dong Cheng’s left leg.
One instant. One instant would be enough.
Hua Yitang made the most of his natural talent for talk and chattered on at full flow. Dong Cheng gradually grew distracted, responding here and there without real attention, his gaze repeatedly drifting toward the Red Makeup Ward gate. But his blade never moved a fraction from Hua Yitang’s throat.
Lin Sui’an narrowed her eyes and slowly lowered her stance. Wait a little longer. He’s nearly out of patience.
Suddenly, the sound of hoofbeats rang out beyond Red Makeup Ward’s gate. Prefect Zhou came galloping in, blade raised, leading a crowd of constables, city patrol soldiers, and yamen clerks. “Feng Elder! Hua the Fourth! I’ve come to your aid!”
Dong Cheng’s head snapped up. And in that single blink of an eye, his blade left Hua Yitang’s neck.
Now!
Lin Sui’an’s toe crushed a tile to dust and she launched herself forward like an arrow, arriving at Dong Cheng’s side in an instant. Left palm gripped Dong Cheng’s blade, right foot kicked Hua Yitang clear, right hand brought Qian Jing slashing down at Dong Cheng’s left leg — the whole sequence executed in nearly a single moment. As Hua Yitang went clattering away, blood had already splashed onto Lin Sui’an’s face. Dong Cheng let out a muffled grunt, his killing intent surging. He reversed his grip and drove the blade toward Lin Sui’an’s back — but for some reason, his hand suddenly hesitated. In that split-second reprieve, Lin Sui’an rolled like a log, an utterly graceless scramble down the rooftop, tiles crashing down around her, until she slammed back-first into something with a loud thud and stopped.
A sharp intake of breath came from behind her. It was Hua Yitang — he had caught her. And behind him were Mu Zhong and Ming Feng.
They were all looking directly upward at the rooftop above them, faces stricken.
Lin Sui’an followed their gaze. Dong Cheng was standing perfectly upright — with five or six feathered arrows driven through his chest. He looked toward Hua Yitang for a moment, smiled, and then his body slowly toppled.
“Eat dog filth! Who shot those arrows?!” Hua Yitang shouted in a panic. “Catch him!”
No one caught Dong Cheng. He rolled off the eaves and landed hard on the ground. By the time Hua Yitang and Lin Sui’an reached him, he was coughing up blood in gulps, his throat emitting a gurgling sound — like crying, like laughing.
Hua Yitang grabbed him by the collar, squeezing the words through his teeth: “Where is Feng Yuyi?!”
Dong Cheng’s face broke into a smile — blood-stained teeth bared — “Time is running out. If you can’t find the place, Feng Yuyi will die…”
The words weren’t finished. His eyes closed. He breathed his last.
“Get up!!” Hua Yitang raged, shaking Dong Cheng’s corpse violently.
Feng Song’s voice cut through the crowd: “Keep them alive! Keep them alive!”
“Let me see his eyes,” Lin Sui’an said, and without waiting for anyone to respond, she pried open Dong Cheng’s eyelids and looked directly into the dead man’s pupils.
White light strobed. The vision shifted: fractured sunlight fell across a writing desk, on which lay an open scroll. The ink was not yet dry, the characters neat and graceful. This time the image was very clear.
“After ten cruelties — comes ten purities.”
Identical to the scroll in the charred corpse’s memory.
Dong Cheng’s memory and the charred corpse’s memory were the same.
Lin Sui’an (clutching her head): Well. That’s a disaster.