A Dream of Justice: The First Lady Constable | Chapter 26 | The Crimson Omen | Novela.app

Chapter 26 - The Crimson Omen The following days stretched like thin, taut silk, each one threatening to snap under the weight of my growing impatience. To Madam Zhang-Li, I was a "jinx"—a dangerous, unpredictable commodity she was desperate to offload, yet terrified to lose. We were locked in a silent, mutual agony of waiting. I needed to infiltrate the higher echelons of this human trafficking ring to find the truth behind the ledgers, and she needed the silver my "sale" would inevitably bring. Every hour spent in that cramped, stifling house felt like a year, the walls closing in on me as I played the role of the helpless captive. By the twilight of the sixth day, the air in the small room felt particularly heavy, thick with the scent of stale tea and the faint, metallic tang of embroidery needles. I sat with Xiao Hong, watching her work by the fading light of the window. She was a quiet girl, her eyes often downcast as if trying to hide the dark secrets of her aunt’s trade. Her needle moved with a practiced, rhythmic grace, pulling vibrant threads through a piece of pale satin. It was a peaceful scene, a deceptive veneer of domesticity that masked the predatory nature of the household. I watched the needle dip in and out, thinking of my own life as a narcotics officer back in my world. I had spent years weaving webs to catch predators; now, I was the one allowing myself to be caught in a web, hoping to find the spider at the center. The heavy silence was suddenly shattered by the thundering approach of Madam Zhang-Li. For a woman of her considerable girth, she moved with a surprising, desperate speed when the scent of profit was in the air. The floorboards groaned under her frantic footsteps as she burst into the room, her face flushed a deep, mottled crimson, her chest heaving with exertion. "Xiao Qing! Xiao Qing!" she wheezed, clutching the doorframe for support. She didn't even wait to catch her breath before the words tumbled out in a spray of excitement. "Tomorrow morning! I’ve done it! I’ve found a buyer! A prestigious one, at that!" I stood up abruptly, my heart giving a violent, discordant lurch against my ribs. This was the moment I had been gambling my life on. The "buy" was finally happening. My mind raced—who was the buyer? Would it lead me to the Ministry of Justice’s targets, or into a deeper, darker abyss? Beside me, Xiao Hong let out a sharp, startled "Ah!" I looked down and saw that her hand had slipped. In her surprise at her aunt’s sudden intrusion, she had driven the embroidery needle deep into her own flesh. I watched, mesmerized in a macabre way, as a single, perfect bead of crimson blood welled up on her fingertip. It hung there for a heartbeat before dropping, staining the delicate white silk of her embroidery. The red stain spread slowly, looking like a lone, bloody plum blossom blooming prematurely on a field of snow. It was a silent, visceral omen. In the world of the underworld, blood drawn at the start of a deal was never a good sign. Madam Zhang-Li, however, was too blinded by the prospect of gold to notice the girl’s injury or the symbolic stain. She continued to babble about the "great fortune" that awaited us, her eyes gleaming with a predatory light. I looked at the blood on the silk and then at the brokeress’s greedy face, a cold resolve settling in my gut. The trap was set, and tomorrow, I would walk right into it. *** **Glossary of New Terms:**