Seeing Achan visit the eatery daily, Boss Xu thought the young woman, with her limited life experience, was making a fuss.
He comforted her, “Madam Chen might have just had some business and closed her shop. She’ll probably be back soon.”
“But she didn’t tell me in advance.”
Madam Chen was trustworthy. If something forced her to close, she would’ve informed Achan.
“Then it was something urgent, and she didn’t have time to tell you,” Boss Xu said.
His words didn’t ease Achan’s doubts.
“Boss Xu, if I go to the Capital Prefecture…”
He shook his head, interrupting, “Miss Ji, you’re not blood-related to Madam Chen, and you have no proof she’s in trouble. The authorities won’t act.”
Seeing her persistent frown, he hesitated and added, “I’ve noticed you have some connections with officials. Why not ask someone to look into it?”
Achan didn’t know whether the Capital Prefecture or the Mirror Division’s gates were harder to breach.
But if she stood outside the Mirror Division demanding Bai Xiuming, she’d likely be chased off. Even if she saw him, he probably wouldn’t help—he wasn’t one to act without gain.
Still, she took Boss Xu’s advice. For Madam Chen’s matter, only officials could help.
Back home, in the dead of night, Achan took an oil lamp to the backyard, squatted by the wall, and began digging, burying something in the soil.
A Mirror Division spy, hidden in the shadows, sensed something odd and moved closer to see what she was doing.
Then Achan spoke.
“How much does the Mirror Division pay you monthly for such hard work?”
The spy froze.
“You watch me every day. Do you ever get to rest?” Achan asked curiously.
The spy thought his job was far easier than colleagues assigned to the Xue family.
Achan’s social circle was small—only her street neighbors, no outsiders. She’d recently grown close to Madam Chen, but that had stopped. Her daily talk was mundane gossip.
His mother and sister rose by early morning, sometimes later, feeling ashamed. Achan, however, consistently woke at late morning, never earlier.
While she slept, he could nap and deliver his surveillance logs to the Mirror Division.
But she didn’t need to know that.
“I have something to say. Can you come out?” Achan asked.
She waited quietly, but there was no response.
Guess not.
“I need to see Captain Feng Yang. Can you pass a message?” Achan tossed her small shovel aside and stood. “If not, no matter. Next time I see your Commander, I’ll say you spied on me bathing.”
Thud. A pebble landed at her feet.
Achan kicked it, her lips curling. “I’ll take that as a yes. It’s urgent. Please ask him to come quickly, ideally tomorrow.”
She went inside, leaving the spy staring at the sky in exasperation.
He’d heard colleagues say Miss Ji and the Commander had an unclear relationship. He’d felt it too, especially since the Commander faced several impeachments over her.
Though he was surveilling, he avoided anything inappropriate, fearing the Commander’s displeasure. Yet today, the target threatened him.
The spy pondered life half the night on the roof. At dawn, he returned to the Mirror Division, reporting truthfully to clear his name.
Bai Xiuming looked at his subordinate, kneeling and professing loyalty, and closed the log.
“My lord, I swear I didn’t…”
“She wants to see Feng Yang?” Bai Xiuming cut him off.
“Yes. Last night, Miss Ji dug a hole in her yard, luring me out, saying she had urgent business with Captain Feng.”
“What business?”
The spy thought. “She hasn’t had issues lately. If anything’s troubling her, it’s likely about the owner of an eatery she frequents. The owner closed shop recently, and Miss Ji seems worried for her safety.”
“She’s so idle she’s meddling in others’ affairs now?”
The subordinate managed, “Miss Ji has a kind heart.”
Bai Xiuming glanced at him, momentarily speechless.
“…My lord, do I keep watching her?” the spy ventured.
He wanted to know how long this task would last. It felt like his skills were wasting away.
No longer just eavesdropping on gossip, he now knew Changping Lane’s prices better than his own area’s and that vegetables were a wen cheaper here.
“No need,” Bai Xiuming said.
The spy sighed in relief. The task was over.
“And Captain Feng?”
“Don’t tell him.”
“Yes, sir.”
Achan waited for Feng Yang all day, but he didn’t come.
She thought the spy had tricked her. Then, after curfew, a knock came.
Opening the door, she saw Feng Yang’s superior.
The spy was a saint for exceeding expectations.
Though she thought this, Achan feigned surprise. “So late, my lord? Why are you here?”
“Didn’t you want to see Feng Yang?”
“Yes, where’s Captain Feng?” Achan let Bai Xiuming in, peeking outside as she closed the door. No one else.
“He’s busy catching snakes.”
“Still catching?” Achan’s voice rose. “How many snakes are you catching?”
Bai Xiuming smiled without answering. Achan suddenly realized, tugging his wide sleeve. “My lord, you’re not planning to pocket my mother’s dowry, are you?”
“Good idea.” He sat by the window table.
Achan poured him a cup of cold tea, showing minimal hospitality.
“My lord, I’m so poor I can’t afford food,” she said, sitting across the table, looking pitiful.
“That bad?”
She nodded vigorously, eyeing the fine money pouch at his waist. “Can you lend me some?”
Surprisingly, Bai Xiuming tossed her the pouch. Achan opened it—only ten taels of silver.
She couldn’t bear to take it; the lord was kind of poor. Besides, accepting his money might delay her dowry further.
Stuffing the silver back, she pushed the pouch back, changing tack. “Actually, my food troubles aren’t about money. The place I eat at had an issue.”
After rambling, she got to the point.
Seeing no reaction, she continued, “The owner of the eatery I go to vanished recently.”
“The Mirror Division doesn’t handle missing persons. Go to the Capital Prefecture.”
“I know.” Achan softened her voice, gesturing slightly. “I just need a small favor.”
“Hm?”
“Help me report it to the Capital Prefecture.”
“Ji Chan.”
“Yes, my lord?”
“What makes you think I’d help you?”
Achan blinked innocently, the lamp’s flame flickering in her eyes. “I thought we were acquainted enough to help each other with small favors. Has it been so long that we’re strangers now?”
Bai Xiuming rubbed his throbbing temple, finally relenting under her persistence. “I’ll speak to the Capital Prefect, but don’t get your hopes up.”
“Thank you, my lord,” she said, then added, “How will you inform me of the results? Through that rooftop spy?”
Having a spy around was oddly convenient.
“He’s not at your house anymore.”
Achan paused. He withdrew the spy? Did he finally stop suspecting her?
“The Capital Prefecture will notify you of the results. As for your mother’s dowry, it’s stored at one of her properties. The key and deed…”
Achan looked at him expectantly, only to hear, “I forgot to bring them. Next time.”
Her hopes crashed. Fuming, she decided to halve her gratitude for his help today.
The next morning, Achan heard that Capital Prefecture officers had gone to Madam Chen’s shop, forcing the lock to investigate, but found nothing.
Two days passed with no news. On the third day, an officer visited, respectfully informing Achan of the investigation’s results.
He detailed the process thoroughly.
“Miss, we checked Chen Hui’s residence. It was tidy when she left, not like she was abducted. We also investigated her ex-husband; he’s been bedridden with a broken leg and has no motive,” the officer said.
He all but told Achan she was overthinking.
“Thank you, sir,” Achan said.
“You’re welcome, miss. I’ll take my leave.”
After the officer left, Achan sighed, hoping the Capital Prefecture was right and Madam Chen had simply left for urgent business, forgetting to tell her.
Chen Hui had no idea how long she’d been locked in this sunless dungeon. It didn’t seem to be in the capital. That day, after closing her shop and heading home, she was knocked out and woke up in a carriage.
She hadn’t seen her captors since.
Sometimes, she wondered if they’d grabbed the wrong person, leaving her neglected.
Maybe she had a chance to survive?
But hunger overwhelmed her. A couple of days ago, someone tossed a coarse grain bun through the bars. Now, nothing. She feared starving to death.
In desperation, Chen Hui held the incense pellet Achan had given her, its scent giving her brief strength.
Hunger weakened her body and clouded her mind, but the pellet’s aroma persisted, intoxicatingly rich.
Unable to resist, she put it in her mouth.
It wasn’t the bitter taste of herbs but carried a meaty flavor. She chewed carefully and swallowed.
Though the tiny pellet didn’t sate her hunger, it eased the burning emptiness in her stomach.
This time, she ate the pellet. What about next time?
Leaning against the wall in the silent, deathly space, Chen Hui sank into despair again.
After an unknown time, she heard a sound—heavy panting, not human, like a frenzied beast.
The iron door screeched as something clawed at it. Chen Hui’s heart raced, her foggy mind sharpening.
“Is anyone there?” she asked, voice trembling.
The reply was the iron door creaking open.
A dark shape lunged at her.
Only when it pinned her to the ground, biting her arm, did she dimly see it—a person?
But its skin was hard, its eyes glowed red in the dark, and it roared like a beast, wanting to devour her.
The creature’s strength was immense; she couldn’t move, left to its mercy.
It reminded her of years ago when her father’s body was half-eaten. Now, she followed his fate.
Was it really just a coincidence?
Suddenly, the dark cell blazed with light as oil lamps on the walls ignited. A sharp whistle sounded, and the creature, having torn flesh from her arm, froze.
Chen Hui struggled to turn her head toward the door, seeing a familiar figure.
“It’s you…” Her lips moved, barely audible.
Dressed in lavish clothes, adorned with jeweled hairpins, Madam Yan entered the cell, supported by her son.
Yan Cheng, whom Achan had met at the Zhao residence, held a jade whistle, the one controlling the creature.
“Chen Hui, do you know how long I’ve wanted you dead?” Fang Yuyu glanced distastefully at the creature, then at the bloodied Chen Hui. “Twenty years.”
“Why?” Chen Hui gasped.
“Why? Because your existence makes me uncomfortable. If not for my husband, you’d have been eaten like your dead father long ago.”
Chen Hui’s pupils shrank. “It was you—you—”
Seeing her fury but lack of strength to even lift a hand, Fang Yuyu laughed. “Of course it was me. Did you think it was a coincidence? Your parents, your brother—all died in the jaws of my living corpse. You’re no different.”
The creature growled, as if echoing her.
“Yan Liru…” Chen Hui forced out the name.
“My husband knew, of course, but he only asked me to spare you. That’s why you lived this long. I thought after your marriage, you’d settle down, but twenty years later, you’re still shameless, seducing other people’s men.”
Chen Hui glared. “The shameless one is you. You stole him.”
Fang Yuyu’s face darkened.
Yan Cheng spoke, “Mother, why waste words? Get rid of her. If Father finds out the living corpse is still here, he’ll be angry.”
Fang Yuyu shot her son a look. “It’s your recklessness, kidnapping her here.”
Yan Cheng didn’t think he was wrong. “Your attendants said you couldn’t sleep after seeing her. If she makes you uneasy, kill her.”
“You,” Fang Yuyu tapped his forehead, then glanced at Chen Hui. “After all these years, I was ready to let you go, but my son is filial, so I’ll indulge him.”
The whistle sounded again. Fang Yuyu and Yan Cheng left arm-in-arm, leaving behind Chen Hui’s hoarse screams and the sounds of the creature feeding.
Then, hurried footsteps approached. Chen Hui vaguely heard someone shout, “Father!”
But she couldn’t see who it was. She could no longer see anything.
Yan Liru, arriving too late as reported by his subordinate, stood outside the cell, unable to step inside.
“Father, it’s my fault,” Yan Cheng knelt, admitting his mistake.
Yan Liru looked at his only son, unable to speak for a long moment.
Fang Yuyu gently tugged his sleeve. “Husband, Cheng’er didn’t mean it. He was provoked and acted wrongly. It’s my fault for not stopping him.”
Yan Liru closed his eyes and ordered, “Dispose of the living corpse. As for Ahui… find a place with good feng shui and bury her.”
Comments
Post a Comment