The rain intensified, turning the city of Jiugao into a crouching giant turtle amidst the mist, breathing out the overflowing rivers.
The young Governor stood tall and solemn, an inviolable stone monument in the rain. His black official robes, embroidered with the water-repelling Golden Zhen, had been washed clean by the downpour, shimmering with a cold, metallic light like armor.
The case on Sangma Street remained a tangled mess without a single lead, yet during the curfew, a second incident had occurred.
Tonight’s events had been strange from the very beginning.
According to the city guards, the commotion had first erupted deep within the Hongzhi District. In a place of pleasure houses and willow-lined alleys, a bit of noise was usually normal. However, with the current curfew, even the brothels had been closed to guests for some time. Thus, despite his doubts, he had not delayed for a moment and went to investigate personally. By the time he arrived, only horrifying bloodstains remained.
According to the madam of a nearby brothel, the assailant had entered the building from an unknown point, hacked and wounded several people in succession, and then escaped through a back window.
He followed the trail of blood outside the window to the banks of the Daixiao River. The blood had traced a path along the eaves of rooftops where footing was nearly impossible, finally pooling in a hollow beneath a bridge before vanishing entirely.
A search of the city yielded nothing. He judged that the person might have taken advantage of the final moments before nightfall to slip onto a cargo boat and escape the city.
There were only two water routes out of the city connected to the Daixiao River: the upstream and downstream branches. The downstream branch merged into the Li River and passed through the water gate beside the East He Gate, leading directly to a large lake. After the summer rains caused the water to rise, the sluice gates were often opened to regulate the flow. For the sake of city defense management, the eastern water gate only allowed large ships with official government permits to pass after noon.
Consequently, the only remaining exit was the West Feng Gate, leading upstream.
Though the nearest pier outside the West Feng Gate was closed at night, patrols remained; staying there long would not be a wise choice. The only way out was to blend into the nearby villages. The man was injured and had bled all the way; after the exertion of escaping the city, even if he wasn't dead, he should be at his wit's end.
But there was always a chance of the unexpected. Where exactly had the man entered the Hongzhi District? What was his purpose? What had happened before that? Was this assault related to the murders from a few days ago? All of this remained hidden in the darkness. He had not yet crossed blades with the culprit; the situation might be far beyond the possibilities he had considered.
The area outside the West Feng Gate was deserted, offering an unobstructed view. On the main road covered in wheel ruts, even a tiny speck of blood would reflect the moonlight with an unusual glint.
Of course, all of this assumed the weather tonight was clear and dry.
But the rains of late spring and early summer came fast and heavy. In less than half an hour, the rain would wash away every trace on the ground. Everything would be submerged in Jiugao’s vast, leaf-vein-like network of winding waterways, leaving nothing behind.
Using the light of torches, he managed to follow suspicious traces near the pier for a few miles before the rain grew heavy. The trail finally vanished near the upper reaches of the Daixiao River, making it impossible to determine the direction.
There was more than one village here, but the number of households in each was small. He divided Lu Zican and the remaining junior officers into three groups to investigate, while he took two men and rode light and fast toward the most remote one: Dingweng Village.
The village was pitch black. Aside from a few scattered houses emitting a dim, faint light, the rest of the dwellings were swallowed by the gloom of the rainy night.
The clamor of the rain mixed with the restless sounds of livestock; otherwise, everything seemed peaceful.
He slowed the pace of his white-browed dapple-gray horse, riding through the small village path, keeping an ear out for any unusual noise.
After knocking on the doors of seven or eight households in succession, the young Governor’s figure came to a halt in the rain.
He turned around, looking toward a dilapidated courtyard not far away, its brushwood gate tightly shut.
The courtyard looked like any other in the village, nothing special about it. The only slight difference was the sign hanging vertically on the gate, which was already somewhat crooked.
The handwriting on the sign still bore the childish air of the one who had penned it; every stroke was drawn exceptionally thick. Even after years of wind and rain, one could recognize the three large characters "Guoran Ju" from a distance.
The memory of a face flashed before the young Governor’s eyes—a face that appeared destitute yet shrewd, and shrewd yet stubborn. He narrowed his eyes.
"Go check over there."
The path before the brushwood gate was a mess of mud. Sludge splashed wherever the horses' hooves trod, but upon approaching, one could see the woodpile stacked against the courtyard wall, as neat as if it had been built with bricks. The oilcloth covering the wood was flat, without a single puddle of water, exuding an air of discipline and tidiness.
He deliberately slowed his steps, then quietly dismounted. The two junior officers behind him understood instantly, resting their hands on the hilts of their sabers as they stood silently in the rain.
For a moment, the only sounds were the rain and the crackling of the oil-soaked torches.
The ring on the brushwood gate had fallen off, and the peeling door panels were mottled. However, the sharp-eyed Governor discovered something. He reached out a finger and lightly brushed a spot on the door latch visible through the gap.
The speck of dark red on his fingertip was washed away by the rain in an instant, making it impossible to tell if it was blood or rust.
When he looked back into the courtyard, a cold light flashed in his eyes.
He knocked heavily on the brushwood gate.
Once, twice, thrice...
His right hand already rested on his scabbard. Just as he was about to knock a fifth time, the rickety gate finally swung open.
A somewhat familiar face appeared at the door. The torches clearly illuminated the dazed expression on her face.
Qiu Ling paused, his right hand relaxing slightly.
"Shopkeeper Qin?"
Qin Jiuye shot him a quick glance, nodding with what seemed like a hint of bashfulness. Perhaps it was because of the chill of the mountain rain, but her lips looked a bit purple from the cold.
"It is so late. Why is the Governor here?"
Qiu Ling observed her reactions and emotions without a word, speaking each syllable deliberately.
"The authorities are investigating a case and followed the trail here. Are you well tonight, Shopkeeper Qin? Did you hear any strange noises or see anything unusual?"
The woman shook her head, her voice sounding somewhat weary.
"I only just returned from the Su Manor today and went to rest early. I didn't notice any movement outside. Has something happened?"
The young Governor did not answer immediately.
Of course something had happened tonight. He just wasn't sure of the exact sequence of events, nor was he clear on who was involved.
The torchlight swept over the courtyard behind her. It was pitch black, without a single flicker of candlelight. There was a faint, indistinct scent of iron in the air, mingling with the dampness of the rain, making it hard to distinguish whether it was the smell of muddy water or...
"Miss Qin, are you alright?"
He changed his form of address, lowering his voice as if he were truly offering his concerns.
For a fleeting second, he seemed to see something flash through her eyes, but she immediately lowered her head, returning to her previous shrinking posture.
Qin Jiuye struggled to pull herself together, glancing down at her lapel.
She had thrown on her outer robe in a hurry; the belt at her waist was tied sloppily, but her collar was pulled tight. If one were to pull back that collar now, they would see two puncture wounds still seeping blood.
"The firewood I gathered a few days ago is damp, so there’s no fire in the house. It’s a bit cold," she said, tightening her clothes and hunching her shoulders. "I didn't rest well while staying at the Su Manor last night, and now I have a bit of a chill. I just took some medicine."
The young Governor said nothing, his gaze shifting toward the half-drawn door latch.
Unlike the small speck he had glimpsed through the gap earlier, he could now clearly see the shimmering dark red on the latch, as if it were wet from the rain, or perhaps...
Qin Jiuye did not look back, but she immediately realized what he was looking at.
About half an incense stick's worth of time had passed since she returned to Guoran Ju. The rain was heavy, so the bloodstains in front of the gate and in the courtyard had long been washed away. Only this bit on the door latch remained, protected by the straw thatch over the gate.
That was the mark left by Li Qiao when he pushed the gate open to return to Guoran Ju.
Anxiety clawed at her heart, yet she had to maintain her current facade, waiting for him to make the first move.
The young Governor remained silent, but the junior officer who had been standing quietly behind him stepped forward. He looked down at her, his tone heavy with pressure.
"Why is there blood on this gate?"
The woman was visibly stunned at first. Then she turned and leaned in close to the gate to look, appearing as though she hadn't expected her own door to be stained with blood.
"Ah, the worker in the shop didn't know I was coming back tonight and bolted the door early. I was soaked from the rain and in a hurry to get inside. When I used this piece of iron to slide the wooden latch, I accidentally cut my hand. I’ve made a fool of myself before the officers."
Her expression as she spoke was a perfect blend of embarrassment and caution. As she spoke, she pulled a piece of iron from the gap in the door and made a symbolic gesture against the latch.
Qiu Ling’s gaze swept over the fresh wound on her hand, then looked at the door behind her.
It was indeed a very dilapidated brushwood gate, and the "shop worker" she mentioned...
The image of the oily-faced medical apprentice at the Su Manor's gate, who had a smutty book hidden on him, flashed through Qiu Ling's mind. His hand, which had been lightly gripping his sword hilt, finally let go.
"My apologies for disturbing you so late."
Qin Jiuye nodded, her entire body slowly retreating back into the gap of the door.
"Not at all. You work hard, Governor, having to travel about so late. The roads are slippery in the rain; please be careful."
She forced herself to suppress the urge to slam the door shut immediately, trying her best to appear composed.
To her dismay, that haunting voice rang out once more.
"Wait."
The closing gap of the door had to stop abruptly. Qin Jiuye took a deep breath and turned back as amiably as possible.
"Does the Governor have further instructions?"
"There was more trouble in the city tonight. I followed a trail of blood along both banks of the Daixiao River, all the way through the water gate to the outskirts. I judge that the assailant should be nearby." Qiu Ling’s voice in the rainy night was like a rusted nail driven straight into her head. "The outskirts are not like the city. On a dark and windy night, Shopkeeper Qin, you should keep your doors and windows locked tight, lest you be caught up in this innocently."
Qin Jiuye felt her neck begin to throb with pain. The calm, simple face she had been working so hard to maintain crumbled for a split second. Then, clearly sensing she had revealed a flaw and knowing how formidable the man before her was, she quickly switched to a face full of complaints.
"This place is indeed remote. People in the village often lose chickens and dogs, and no one cares even if we report it to the authorities. Perhaps they think such small matters are trivial, but even a single chicken is very precious to a family like ours. One less chicken means one less egg a day. In the future, I hope the Governor will send more men here; I imagine that would be much more useful than locking doors and windows."
Her words were somewhat bold, a crooked path of using offense as defense.
Qiu Ling’s gaze scraped over her face like a knife scaling a fish. Qin Jiuye felt her legs, hidden beneath her skirt, begin to wobble, nearly unable to support her.
After a long silence, the man finally took a half-step back.
"I have noted what Shopkeeper Qin said. I have official duties and cannot stay long. Please do not travel far these few days, Shopkeeper Qin. This case has many suspicious points; we may conduct door-to-door inquiries later. Do you understand?"
Qin Jiuye felt that he might as well have said: *Your village is a suspect village, and you are a suspect. You’d better not play any tricks. Be careful with what you say and do, or I’ll be inviting you to eat prison food.*
She nodded weakly, wanting nothing more than to see him off.
"Certainly, certainly. The night road is difficult; please go slowly, Governor."
The young Governor finally mounted his horse with practiced ease. Without another glance at her, he led his two subordinates and vanished into the night.
Qin Jiuye gave a bitter smile and closed the brushwood gate herself.
If she had previously held some childhood-sweetheart longing or joy at their reunion, now only the desolate bitterness of a narrow escape remained.
If this happened a few more times, she suspected she would start shivering the moment she heard his name.
He was a Governor who upheld the law, perhaps destined to be the most brilliant and heroic commander of Jiugao. And she was just a wandering doctor who made a living through petty tricks and schemes.
She was that now, and she likely would be in the future.
Standing alone in the courtyard, letting the rain pitter-patter against her, a tangle of complex emotions rose within her until she couldn't help but laugh out loud.
When a person reaches the peak of wretchedness and bad luck, a sense of the absurd and ridiculous truly does emerge. And the reason she had retreated step by step and fallen to this state was all thanks to one person.
For once in his life, Situ Jinbao had been right.
That Li Qiao really was her bane.
Perhaps she really shouldn't have kept him. Perhaps she should have made a firm decision today. Perhaps, the moment she pushed open the gate, she should have told the young Governor that a terrifying, bloodthirsty, out-of-control criminal was hiding in her courtyard, one who had just attacked her in the darkness...
But in that lightning-fast moment, she had made a different choice.
Perhaps it was because she discovered he and Xu Qiuchi were brothers. Perhaps it was because of his attitude toward her at the Su Manor earlier that day. Or perhaps it was an instinct and intuition born of being poor.
At the final moment, she had chosen to stand on Li Qiao’s side.
***
Behind the slightly ajar door of the west room, Li Qiao, who had changed rooms to hide, crouched behind several medicine baskets, his ears pricked to the movements in the courtyard.
Perhaps he should have found an opportunity to leave this place long ago. Perhaps he should have seized the chance that day at the Treasure Mirage Pavilion. Perhaps, when the gate was knocked upon just now, he shouldn't have let her go open it, but should have found a way to kill her and then escape...
But at that moment, he had let go.
Perhaps it was because the wounds on his body still throbbed with pain. Perhaps it was because he wasn't entirely certain he could kill everyone outside the gate in a single strike. Or perhaps it was an instinct and intuition born of being a fugitive of the martial world.
At the final moment, he had chosen to let her go.
The woman’s figure stood still in the rain for a moment, appearing much calmer than he had imagined. But in the end, she didn't dare enter the room where he was.
He heard those water-soaked old cotton shoes go silent for a moment. After some deliberation, they went "patter-patter" toward the east room.
Li Qiao held his blade and collapsed back onto the floor.
After tonight, perhaps he should re-examine the relationship between them.
What kind of existence was she? His nominal employer? A source of a far-off antidote? Or a cover for his identity? Among these complex relationships, another layer had now been added: did he need to rely on her blood to survive? And could she keep his secret in this cruel world that was always full of betrayal?
He felt their relationship was destined to become somewhat strange.
When the sun rose tomorrow morning, he didn't even know what to say or do. Because he had never experienced such a relationship.
He had no close associates and had never stayed in one place for so long. He wasn't used to being saved, nor had he ever saved anyone. The things he had experienced most were killing and being hunted.
That was the life he was good at; he shouldn't be swayed by other possibilities. But did he have a better choice right now?
Li Qiao pondered these questions, his eyes, which had just closed, opening again in the darkness.
***
In the latter half of the night, the rain gradually stopped, and the moonlight brightened once more.
Rainwater dripping from the eaves rhythmically struck the window frame. A bit of water seeped through the loose gap in the window, wetting the edge of the stove directly beneath the sill.
Behind half a bundle of fresh firewood under the stove, the woman, exhausted from blood loss and fright, finally couldn't hold out any longer and fell asleep, her body curled up.
Her brow was slightly furrowed, her ten fingers tightly clutching the pastry box in her arms. She did not sleep peacefully.
Li Qiao looked at the thin, small figure on the ground and slowly drew his blade.
The sound of metal friction flashed through the night. Across the wall mixed with rice straw, the sound of dripping rain continued its monotonous rhythm.
The Governor named Qiu had already left with his men. Situ Jinbao happened to be away. The entire Dingweng Village was lost in dreams amidst the lingering dampness. This was his best chance to act.
A strange thought flashed through his mind: if the person by the stove suddenly woke up, would he see her questioning his stupidity?
She had saved him, yet he was going to kill her? Where was his conscience? Had it been eaten by dogs?
Li Qiao gave a cold sneer.
Where did he have a heart? He never had one.
The people on the Qingping Road that night hadn't seen his conscience. The people he had silenced before hadn't seen it either. How could she possibly have seen it?
Relying on a conscience, he wouldn't have lived until now.
Across the curtain of rain, the brief moment he watched her standing inside the gate talking to Qiu Ling was the longest moment of his life.
All his caution, endurance, and suffering had nearly vanished into thin air at that moment.
Even if she hadn't informed Qiu Ling of his situation tonight, there was no guarantee she wouldn't in the future. People were always fickle. Moreover, she and he were too similar—both were people who had survived until today with great difficulty. Would such a person choose to sacrifice themselves to save another for the sake of a hollow conscience?
No, he didn't believe it.
So he couldn't take that risk.
Since she might betray him, he would be the one to betray her first.
His hand, trembling slightly from his injuries, suddenly gripped the hilt with ferocity. The rusted blade flashed through the damp air and then abruptly stopped, the blade as steady as a battle flag.
If he killed her, what about the antidote?
But even if she were unwilling, he surely had ten thousand ways to make her obey and not dare to resist.
He really shouldn't continue playing this "good sister, good brother" game of house with her. He should show his fangs, make her afraid, make her regret, make her kneel on the ground trembling and begging for mercy...
Perhaps he should first break her legs so she couldn't run away.
His left hand, holding the blade, swung out steadily. The rust-colored edge passed right against her kneecap.
Or perhaps he should cut out her tongue so she couldn't inform on him.
With a turn of his wrist, the tip of the blade pierced the night and stopped at the corner of her lips.
Or perhaps, he simply shouldn't take the risk.
The heavy weapon slowly moved down, finally coming to rest against her neck.
Perhaps the blade was cold, its chill soaking into her skin even through half an inch of air. The person under the stove turned slightly, as if caught in a nightmare. Cold sweat trickled down her neck, wetting the cloth bandage that was still seeping blood.
The moonlight tonight seemed exceptionally bright. His racing heart and dizziness gradually subsided, and the inexplicable thirst in his throat vanished. He only felt his five senses were clearer than ever before, as if he could pierce through the dim light and see every tiny hair and slight tremor on her face.
Then, he heard her low murmurs in her sleep.
It was like the buzzing of a mosquito, as weak as the woman herself. It was impossible to hear what she was saying.
Li Qiao raised an eyebrow. He was here to kill her; did he really need to be curious about her sleep-talking?
But the night was long; what was the harm in listening?
He lifted the tip of his blade and leaned down, moving close to her.
The woman’s voice was intermittent, her speech slurred because half her face was pressed down.
"Don't be afraid... don't be afraid..."
The sound of raindrops outside seemed to stop suddenly. The young swordsman’s pale pupils trembled.
She seemed to be merely comforting herself in her confusion. But for a moment, he felt as if he had entered the woman’s nightmare, returning with her to that day at the Treasure Mirage Pavilion. Back then, she had stubbornly held his hand, certain she could lead him out of that dark place...
The bizarre thought flashed by, and soon, his focus returned to her neck.
His nose could still faintly catch a trace of the scent of blood.
Inexplicably, the sensation of that warm blood erupting in his mouth surfaced in his mind again, along with the strength of her struggle in his arms when he bit her...
Different from the killings he had done while drifting through the martial world, this was a more primal and pure impulse. Just like the fresh blood that had flowed into his body, a hint of sweetness emerged from the metallic tang.
It was a hunting instinct.
The arms bracing him on either side of the stove tightened and then relaxed. He slowly straightened his body and re-evaluated his "prey."
Killing her now might indeed be a bit of a waste.
Setting aside the matter of the Qingfeng San, he didn't even know what Lord Yan had done to his body, when it would flare up again, or if he could control himself when it did. If he had to rely on fresh blood to alleviate it over the coming months, choosing targets would be troublesome, and covering his tracks after the fact would be even thornier.
No one understood the trouble of silencing witnesses better than he did.
He needed to carefully erase the marks left by his weapon, destroy any identifying clothing or accessories on the victim, and sometimes even dispose of the body. That was why he preferred to kill with a borrowed knife or fish in troubled waters. That night on the Qingping Road, he had originally intended to use Wang Xiao of the Autumn Mountain Sect as a cover, but he hadn't expected to encounter the "oriole" that was Lord Yan. Although he had narrowly escaped, he had left behind traces that were difficult to eliminate.
The trouble he encountered at the Treasure Mirage Pavilion might only be the beginning.
He should act with even greater caution, keeping all hidden dangers within the smallest possible range.
As it stood, this "hidden danger" named Qin Jiuye might be his best-controlled option.
The person by the stove had long since stopped her sleep-talking, seemingly falling into a deeper slumber.
He stared at his shadow cast upon her, finally sliding his blade slowly back into its sheath. He took another half-step back, and the moonlight from the window once again cast a soft glow over her hair.
The sound of raindrops on the window frame rang out again, rising and falling in competition with the woman’s shallow breathing beneath the stove.
The youth’s figure had already vanished from the room, silently, just as he had come.
No matter. Let her live for a few more days.
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 巨鼋 | Giant Turtle | Specifically a giant softshell turtle, used as a metaphor for the city. |
| 督护 | Governor | A high-ranking military/administrative official. |
| 金狰 | Golden Zhen | A mythical beast (Zhen) embroidered on official robes. |
| 避水 | Water-repelling | A magical or symbolic property of the embroidery. |
| 桑麻街 | Sangma Street | A location in the city. |
| 红雉坊 | Hongzhi District | Literally "Red Pheasant District," a pleasure district. |
| 黛绡河 | Daixiao River | A river flowing through the city. |
| 东阖门 | East He Gate | One of the city gates. |
| 西葑门 | West Feng Gate | One of the city gates. |
| 丁翁村 | Dingweng Village | The village where Qin Jiuye lives. |
| 果然居 | Guoran Ju | Qin Jiuye's residence/clinic. |
| 邱陵 | Qiu Ling | The name of the young Governor. |
| 陆子参 | Lu Zican | A junior officer under Qiu Ling. |
| 白额大青马 | White-browed dapple-gray horse | Qiu Ling's mount. |
| 襦裙 | Ruqun | A traditional Chinese outfit (blouse and skirt). |
| 髌骨 | Patella | Kneecap. |
| 纛旗 | Battle flag | A large banner used in ancient Chinese armies. |
