Just after the hour of the *You*, Bobo Street was a surging tide of carriages and crowds.
Beside the ancient bluestone pavement, the waters of the Daixiao River flowed as gently as ever. The sampans that had darted busily throughout the day finally slowed. Boatmen sat at the sterns, counting the day’s earnings, pondering how many pecks of rice they could buy and whether they could afford to light a lamp tonight. Diligent fishmongers had long since sold their catch, yet they refused to let their decks stay empty for a moment, piling them high with fresh flowers and fruit instead. These delicate goods could not withstand the blistering daytime sun; only under the cover of night did the vendors dare to hawk them from their boats.
The lanterns were sparse, not yet fully lit, but the entire street had already begun to pulse with life.
Street vendors at every corner cried out their wares with all their might, sweating profusely, determined to earn back every copper coin lost during the previous curfew. Rice cakes turned a shimmering golden-brown in bubbling vats of oil; the furnaces of the flatbread shops glowed a fiery red; coarse tea leaves unfurled into dark green blossoms in boiling water. White plumes of steam drifted across the thoroughfare.
The darker the night grew, the more vibrant and colorful the street became.
For ordinary folk, now that the case on Sangma Street was solved and the killer at Ershui Bank had been found, life could return to its steady, rhythmic pace. Nothing was more important than living one’s life. If there was anything more important, it was how to live it better.
Qin Jiuye walked through the crowd with heavy steps.
Once, she had been just like them—one of the ordinary people scurrying about, consumed by the struggle for a livelihood. Now, though her status remained unchanged, her state of mind made it impossible for her to blend back into this heart-warming bustle of the mundane world. Her eyes saw the festivities, but her mind was filled with conspiracies and schemes.
A doubt had been gnawing at her: why was it that among the afflicted, He Yuanzhou had lost his mind despite consuming so much blood, while Li Qiao remained clear-headed?
At first, she thought it was a side effect of the residual poison in Li Qiao's body, but Guo Rengui’s words had sparked a different idea. If He Yuanzhou had not been like that from the start, but had deteriorated over time, then there were two possibilities.
First, it was simply a matter of time; perhaps in a few days, Li Qiao would also turn into a monster driven by instinct and a thirst for blood. Second, during those ten-odd days in the Su Manor, something had triggered the Old Madam’s symptoms, causing her to fall instantly into an irrecoverable abyss.
What was it? Was it truly just a coincidence? Was Li Qiao simply too lucky, or was He Yuanzhou too unfortunate?
Wait—perhaps there was a third possibility.
Even if the "secret recipes" obtained by Li Qiao and the Su family came from the same hand, the two recipes might not have been identical. It was the subtle difference between them that caused such drastically different reactions after infection.
A thought suddenly flashed through Qin Jiuye’s mind, sending a fresh chill down her spine.
What if the person pulling the strings behind the scenes had the same doubts she did? What if that was the very reason for conducting these cruel experiments?
The world was boundless, the mountains and rivers vast, and the transience of all things within them was inherently unpredictable. No one could perceive everything from the start. Since ancient times, countless physicians had tasted a hundred herbs, gathering experience into knowledge passed down through generations, eventually forming the medical canons of today.
Yet, the difference between becoming a Buddha or a demon lay in a single thought.
Where there were those who wished to save the world, there were those who wished to harvest lives. The most terrifying weapon in this world was not the sword, but disease. Its efficiency, speed, and the difficulty of defending against it far surpassed that of any well-trained army.
In the distant past, ancient texts recorded a city on the edge of a northern marsh that fell in a single night due to a plague; even after a century of recovery, it could not regain its former glory. More recently, when the late Emperor sent troops to suppress the Prince of Xiaoling, the Battle of Juchao had been exceptionally brutal. Rumor had it that shortly after the battle, plagues broke out in the surrounding commanderies. The imperial court had to dispatch specialists for three years before the situation was fully brought under control.
Qin Jiuye’s head began to throb again.
However, no matter how much she racked her brain, the chaotic world before her—where yin and yang were inverted and the sun and moon were obscured—was not something she could overturn alone.
Not far away, several half-grown children gathered by a drainage ditch to scoop up water insects. They caught something unknown and chased each other along the embankment, hooting with laughter.
Qin Jiuye’s mind wandered, her thoughts suddenly veering in another direction.
From the moment she heard Su Lin mention the "secret recipe," she had plunged headlong into various conspiracies, suspecting that everything from the Qingping Path and the Treasure Mirage Pavilion to the Su family was linked by a single dark thread. She had analyzed the surface, but she hadn't had time to ponder the deeper implications, to the point that she had overlooked the most important thing of all.
If everything was as she boldly guessed—if the mastermind was the same person and Li Qiao and He Yuanzhou suffered from the same strange illness—then she, who had been bitten savagely by Li Qiao, might very well be the next patient.
Qin Jiuye came to a dead halt.
The distant conspiracies in her mind instantly transformed into a tray of clattering abacus beads that refused to yield a result.
Thinking back carefully, it had been over ten days since she was attacked by Li Qiao. During this time, aside from the wound on her neck, her body had shown no other discomfort or symptoms. Did this indirectly prove that the strange illness was not transmitted through bites?
But she couldn't be certain. First, she couldn't be sure that Li Qiao and He Yuanzhou had the same illness, even if their symptoms were similar and they were both involved in the "secret recipe" affair. Second, she couldn't confirm whether she was uninfected or simply asymptomatic.
According to the medical records, about a month passed between He Yuanzhou taking the recipe and his first outbreak. Li Qiao, however, had fallen ill the very night he visited the Treasure Mirage Pavilion. It was clear that the patterns of this strange illness were hard to find and likely related to the physical condition of the infected person.
Death was not terrifying; what was terrifying was the sound of its approaching footsteps.
The surrounding crowd felt like a dark undercurrent with swirling eddies, parting before her and closing behind her. Qin Jiuye looked at the diverse faces, finding them sometimes clear and sometimes blurred. The chaotic sound of footsteps surrounded her, mingled with the cries of vendors and the low whispers of unknown people, as if ghosts wearing human skins were hiding in the crowd, watching her and snickering.
In the next moment, someone’s foot accidentally overturned a fishmonger’s basket by the roadside. A cluster of loaches tumbled out, surging into the middle of the path.
The loaches struggled and writhed violently on the stone slabs, their slippery bodies striking the ground. Their wide, staring eyes glinted with a silvery light, their mouths agape as they gasped for air, their slime-covered barbels twitching rhythmically...
Qin Jiuye’s train of thought was severed. A wave of uncontrollable nausea rose in her chest, and the hair on her arms stood on end.
In an instant, the fishmonger stepped into the street, cursing under his breath as he tossed the scattered loaches back into the basket one by one. Only a small patch of slimy mud remained on the bluestone road.
After standing dazed for a moment, Qin Jiuye finally moved her feet, walking toward a row of stalls adorned with colorful lanterns.
Beside the lanterns, some vendors sold rouge and powder. They smiled at the brightly dressed young women passing by, but when Qin Jiuye walked past, they didn't spare her a single glance.
Qin Jiuye knew she did not look like someone who could spend silver on rouge. And indeed, she had no intention of buying such things.
As she reached the end of the street, the paper lantern at the corner alley was somewhat dim. There were fewer vendors nearby; only an old woman sat there selling fresh flowers and inexpensive trinkets.
The old woman had her eyes closed and her head bowed, seemingly dozing against her wooden cart. Seeing this, a few mischievous boys crept closer, taking advantage of her age and poor hearing to snatch the flower garlands from the cart. Unexpectedly, as if she had another pair of eyes, the old woman’s bamboo pole struck out sharply, landing right on the "thief’s" hand.
The boy cried out, looked at his rapidly swelling hand, and glared resentfully at the old woman. Not daring to try any more tricks, he called to his companions and fled.
Once the children had vanished, Qin Jiuye approached the old woman.
The cart was dilapidated but kept very clean. It was piled with a miscellaneous assortment of goods: large items like brush-washers, potted money trees, and large pickling jars; and small items like needles, thread, copper buttons, and small wooden beads for embroidering shoe uppers.
Qin Jiuye looked through them and picked something out.
It was a palm-sized bronze mirror. It looked quite old and had not been well-maintained; the water chestnut flower pattern on the back was chipped, but in the center, two small characters in seal script could be faintly discerned: *Wu Shang*—No Harm.
Ordinary bronze mirrors usually bore auspicious phrases like "Unending Joy" or "Bright Radiance." The one in her hand was different. Others might not care for its meaning, but it happened to match the prayer in her heart at this very moment.
"Use the mind like a mirror; do not escort the past nor welcome the future; respond but do not store. Thus, one can overcome things without being harmed." The old woman behind the cart looked up at some point, her eyes closed as she swayed her head and recited. "Young lady, you have a destiny with this mirror. Why not buy it for good luck?"
These days, even a street vendor’s sales pitch was quite sophisticated.
In the past, Qin Jiuye wouldn't have even paused at such a stall. If she heard someone trying to persuade her to buy, she would have wished for grease on her soles to slip away instantly. Anyone who wanted to earn her silver was a villain.
But today, for some reason, perhaps because the day’s exertions had left her exhausted, her legs failed her the moment she reached the cart. She couldn't look away.
Qin Jiuye rubbed the bronze mirror in her hand and asked in a low voice, "How much for this?"
The old woman finally opened her eyes a crack and spoke slowly. "This mirror is an old piece from the Jingyin Tower. There was originally a pair. If you take both, I’ll give them to you for ninety-nine coppers—a good omen for a long life together."
Jingyin Tower was a legendary jade pavilion dedicated to crafting exquisite curios, once home to the world’s finest artisans. A single needle from Jingyin Tower could supposedly be traded for a manor.
But that was ages ago. Not to mention that the tower only appeared in songs and unofficial histories; no one had ever seen its treasures with their own eyes. How could they appear at a temporary stall on a busy street? Over time, "Jingyin Tower" had become a gimmick used by swindlers in the black market. Any expert would turn and walk away upon hearing it.
Qin Jiuye smiled, not minding much. Bobo Street was full of talented people; even a random old woman was well-versed in the art of business, her pitches coming one after another.
"I am but one person. I have no need for things in pairs."
Hearing this, the old woman lifted her sagging eyelids to look at Qin Jiuye. Her gentle gaze held a hint of cunning and wisdom.
"Then I shall charge you forty-nine coppers. Aside from the mirror, won't you look at anything else? I have smartweed flowers picked fresh today, still covered in dew and fragrant. They would suit you well."
Smartweed was a wild flower found everywhere by the water; village children called it "dog-tail flower." This old woman truly knew how to do business, trying to trade free wildflowers for copper coins.
Yet even if it was a wildflower, it was lovely upon closer inspection. Qin Jiuye instinctively touched her thin, gaunt chin.
She and Jinbao were like two withered twigs depending on each other for warmth. Even the people in Dingweng Village sighed when they saw them, calling them "truly bitter-fated." This was the first time someone had said she suited a fresh blossom.
"You joke, Auntie. These flowers have nothing to do with me."
"You are at the age of a flower, young lady. It is only right for an old woman to say so."
The old woman finished and gave her a thin-lipped smile.
Qin Jiuye assumed the woman was just telling tall tales to sell more goods, but for some reason, she was the one who felt self-conscious.
Regardless, a forty-nine copper bronze mirror was an unprecedented "extravagance" for her. Her hand trembled slightly as she counted the coins from her purse and handed them over.
"Just the mirror."
The old woman said no more. She took a square piece of red paper from a small bamboo basket, wrapped the mirror neatly, and handed it to Qin Jiuye.
Qin Jiuye took the mirror, gave the stooped old woman one last look, and walked toward the fading lights.
As she walked, she couldn't help but wonder what she would look like when she reached that woman’s age. By then, she should have her own small courtyard and enough saved for her funeral expenses. If she still wanted to be a merchant, perhaps she could close the pharmacy and come out to sell flowers, tea, and bronze mirrors. She would praise the kind-looking girls she liked and play deaf and dumb with the annoying young lords. She would earn silver according to her mood and face each day with tranquility. That wouldn't be bad at all.
As Qin Jiuye thought, her expression suddenly turned bittersweet.
It wasn't just "not bad"—it was the life she yearned for.
But she was not a mountain flower growing by a clear stream, nor even a small insect hiding from the sun under a leaf. She was a loach dug out of the mud, straining to breathe and struggling every moment, writhing her body toward a distant, unreachable shore.
Sometimes she didn't know the meaning of this struggle, but the instinct to survive made it impossible for her to stop.
Just as her life could never be truly tranquil.
Qin Jiuye gripped the bronze mirror tightly and walked into the depths of the alley where the shadows were thinning.
***
**Glossary**
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
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酉时 | You hour | The period from 5:00 PM to 7:00 PM.
黛绡河 | Daixiao River | A river flowing through the city.
径荫楼 | Jingyin Tower | A legendary workshop known for exquisite craftsmanship, often used as a gimmick by swindlers.
无伤 | Wu Shang | "No Harm" or "Unscathed."
用心若镜，不将不迎，应而不藏，故能胜物而不伤 | Use the mind like a mirror... | A quote from the *Zhuangzi* (Inner Chapters) regarding the Daoist ideal of mental detachment and resilience.
蓼花 | Smartweed | A common wildflower (Polygonum), often associated with humble or rustic settings.
