Chapter 47: Picking Mulberries (Part 4)
“Commander Zhou, one of the deceased is a disguised barbarian,” Chao Yi Song reported as soon as Zhou Ting arrived.
A barbarian?
The private room was a mess. Zhou Ting saw only Han Chinese faces, except for the corpse on the table, its mask partially torn. He stepped closer and ripped away the remaining mask, revealing the distinct features beneath.
“Did anyone see what happened?” he asked, turning to his men.
“We questioned the witnesses. Someone mentioned a figure in white robes and a veiled hat, but they didn’t see clearly…” Chao Yi Song replied.
Most people in the entertainment district were too preoccupied with the festivities to notice anything else.
White robes, veiled hat.
Zhou Ting frowned, remembering the figure he had seen downstairs. “Chao Yi Song, search the building.”
“Yes, sir!” Chao Yi Song left and ordered his men to gather everyone downstairs.
Zhou Ting examined the barbarian’s body.
Although there was a truce between the Great Qi and Danqiu, tensions remained. A barbarian’s presence in Yun Jing was suspicious.
“Commander Zhou, we found a few people in white robes, but no one wearing a veiled hat,” Chao Yi Song said, returning, out of breath. “They all look like weak scholars, not capable of killing eight men.”
“Did you test them?”
“Yes, none of them have any martial arts training,” Chao Yi Song said, gesturing to a waiter. “He said he remembers the man in the veiled hat. He was listening to pipa music with a young woman.”
Zhou Ting looked in the direction the waiter indicated. An empty table, two cold teacups. He turned to the waiter. “What did the woman look like?”
“Sir, I didn’t pay close attention. But the man was carrying a lantern, even inside. I found it strange, so I looked twice. But that’s all I remember,” the waiter stammered.
Zhou Ting frowned, then said to Chao Yi Song, “Take the bodies back to the Yin Ye Si.”
The moon was bright, and snow fell like dust.
In the quiet, dark alley behind the entertainment district, Ni Su pulled away from Xu He Xue, her feet touching the ground. Hearing approaching footsteps and voices, a cold hand covered her mouth.
Snowflakes landed on her hair. Xu He Xue followed her gaze to his hand, a smear of blood on its back.
The voices faded, and he released her.
“Even if I can escape, what about you? You were here with me. If Zhou Ting investigates thoroughly, he’ll find witnesses. But if you weren’t here, you won’t be implicated,” Xu He Xue explained.
He leaned closer. “I know you wouldn’t agree, so I…”
He trailed off, but they both remembered him scooping her up and vanishing into mist, unnoticed by the crowd.
Ni Su hadn’t known he possessed such strength, his seemingly frail body capable of carrying her effortlessly.
“I know you didn’t want me to be taken to the Yin Ye Si again,” she said, still not looking at him. “But why does Youdu punish you for using your powers? You’re a ghost now. Shouldn’t you be able to use them freely?”
“Because these powers aren’t meant to be used here.”
“Then where are they meant to be used?” Ni Su asked, looking up at him.
Snowflakes landed on her face. Xu He Xue was silent for a moment, the blood on his hand and the dirt on his sleeve turning into shimmering dust in the moonlight. He looked up at the starry night sky. “It doesn’t matter. I won’t go there,” he said calmly.
Ni Su didn’t understand, but she knew the punishments he endured were severe, the wounds on his arm a testament to the pain he suffered.
“Let’s go back,” she said, the wind and snow stinging her face. “I have many candles. I’ll light them for you.”
The word “back” brought a sense of peace to Xu He Xue. He looked at her, and her simple words made him want to follow her, to go back with her.
“How did you recognize the barbarian?” Ni Su asked as they walked, supporting each other.
“Barbarians live on the plateau, herding livestock. Tribal conflicts over grazing land and animals are common. They carry scimitars from a young age, and their methods and habits are different from the Han Chinese. That man had no ornaments at his waist, yet he kept touching it unconsciously.”
Moreover, Xu He Xue had fought against the Danqiu barbarians for five years and knew their customs well.
“You had me hide Grand Commandant Miao because you knew he wasn’t involved. And the city patrol arrived so quickly, which means someone set a trap for him.”
Grand Commandant Miao, a high-ranking official, meeting a barbarian alone at the entertainment district on the Lantern Festival would be difficult to explain.
“But why were you so certain Grand Commandant Miao wasn’t involved?” Ni Su remembered his decisive action.
“He and the barbarians are sworn enemies,” Xu He Xue said.
His first year at the border, after abandoning his scholar’s life, had been spent in the Hu Ning Army, under General Miao Tian Zhao. It had been a formative experience, witnessing the brutality of war, the gains and losses of victory and defeat.
Miao Tian Zhao had killed countless barbarians. He might have recognized the man in the private room, but even if he hadn’t, the trap had been set, and he would have been implicated.
“Didn’t you question those men? Who were they? Why were they targeting Grand Commandant Miao?”
“They were determined to die. They wouldn’t say anything,” Xu He Xue shook his head.
Ni Su lowered her head. “I saw someone else there. Chief Censor Jiang. He entered the dressing room while I was helping Grand Commandant Miao change. He also seemed to be avoiding the city patrol and the Yin Ye Si.”
“Perhaps he’s made progress with the ledger,” Xu He Xue said, his expression changing slightly.
“When you’re feeling better, let’s visit Chief Censor Jiang,” Ni Su said.
Xu He Xue was about to reply when the lantern flame died, plunging him into darkness. “The candle burned out. I’ll lead you,” Ni Su said, taking his hand.
The alley was unlit and covered in snow. Ni Su discarded the lantern and, holding Xu He Xue’s sleeve, led him towards the light at the end of the alley.
A branch laden with snow snapped, and a pile of snow fell on Ni Su. She shivered and sneezed.
“Ni Su?” Xu He Xue, unable to see, reached out and his hand landed on her face as she turned around.
Her face was cold, covered in snowflakes. They wouldn’t melt against his fingers.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, withdrawing his hand.
“Nothing…” Ni Su shook her head, brushing the snow from her hair. More snow had collected inside her hood. “There’s snow in my hood. Help me,” she said, turning around.
Xu He Xue reached out, his fingers gently brushing the snow from her hood.
Ni Su glanced back at him. His face was barely visible in the moonlight and mist.
“Xu Zi Ling,” she suddenly said.
“Mmm?” he replied, still focused on brushing the snow from her hood.
“I think Grand Commandant Miao will ask about you. He wanted to ask at the entertainment district, but Chief Censor Jiang interrupted him. He’ll ask me again. What should I tell him?”
Xu He Xue’s hand, cold and wet with snow, paused. The wind blew open his sleeve, revealing a fresh, red wound. He was momentarily speechless.
“Xu Zi Ling,” Ni Su said, taking his hand. “Are you in pain? Let’s go back.” She didn’t want him to exert himself any further.
They walked in silence, their footsteps crunching in the snow.
Xu He Xue, relying on the woman who had summoned him, his eyes lifeless, said, “If he asks, tell him we met by chance and you don’t know my name.”
Met by chance, don’t know my name.
Ni Su looked at his jawline in the mist. “You didn’t come back to find an old friend, did you?”
“You avoid your teacher and Grand Commandant Miao, whom you clearly recognize. Why would you want to see your old friend?”
“You’re not looking for someone you care about, but someone you have a grudge against,” she said.
He cherished the memories of his past friendships, unwilling to tarnish them with his current state, choosing to walk this path alone.
“When I met you, I considered seeing him,” Xu He Xue said softly, after a long silence. “But Ni Su, I thought… they might not want to see me.”
His words weren’t spoken with sadness, but with a calm acceptance of reality. But they still stung Ni Su.
Why wouldn’t they want to see him?
Because he had been dead for fifteen years, unmourned?
The loyalty he clung to seemed to be unrequited, the world having abandoned him after his death.
“But,” Ni Su said, tightening her grip on his hand, snowflakes falling on her face, as they reached the warm, yellow light at the end of the alley, the sounds of the bustling street drawing closer, “but I don’t think you deserve to be treated like this.”
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