"You should just die."
"You ungrateful little wolf cub! If I ever get my hands on you, I'll break your legs and slice the flesh off your bones to feed the dogs!"
Inside the cramped, windowless thatched hut, the man clutched his bleeding left eye, roaring in madness, driven insane by pain. He swung his blade, but with only one eye, the cleaver missed its mark and embedded itself deep into the wooden table.
Seizing the moment while he struggled to pull the blade free, Wen Jiao dashed out of the hut, wedged the door shut with a cart, and pulled a fire striker from her bosom.
The wooden door rattled violently as the man pounded against it. Her hands trembled slightly as she blew urgently yet carefully on the small red glow at the tip of the striker. With a whoosh, a brilliant flame burst forth, dispelling the darkness.
Without a moment's hesitation, she hurled the burning striker onto the roof. The thatch was highly flammable to begin with, and she had already doused it with oil beforehand—the entire roof caught fire in an instant.
Angry curses erupted from within the hut, but as the flames spread and the whole structure became engulfed, the man's curses turned to pleas—begging Wen Jiao to open the door and let him out.
"I'll never hit you again!"
"I won't sell you to a brothel! I'll find you a good family!!"
The tongues of fire were like ravenous demons, the burning hut a purgatory that devoured all within. Waves of searing heat blasted against Wen Jiao's face, yet she suddenly smiled, revealing two deep dimples.
"You should just die."
Seeing that his pleas were useless, the man flew into a rage, screaming hysterically. But soon, his voice weakened, and the flames consumed all sin and filth, leaving only the roaring sound of the blaze.
The room still carried the faint scent of Dew-Stamen Lotus.
The young woman lay on the arhat couch, her expression pained.
Miaoshan guided her slowly: "And after he died?"
The girl's eyes suddenly flew open. Miaoshan started, then steadied herself and looked closer—though her eyes were open, her gaze was hollow and unfocused. She must still be lost in the dream.
If one wished to make a woman obedient, there were two ways: grasp her secrets, or seize hold of her weaknesses.
So after Miaoshan had chosen her target, she would first use incense to lure the woman into revealing the secrets hidden in her heart, then, while she was still unconscious, strip her clothes and lay her on the same bed as a strange man. Though her virtue would not truly be compromised, it was enough to utterly break the woman once she awoke.
Through threats and coercion, they would all obediently comply.
"After that, I left the village." Wen Jiao's voice drifted as she slowly sat up, looking around in a daze, as if curious about her surroundings.
This was a windowless room, and they were the only two inside.
Miaoshan had already learned that Wen Jiao had burned someone to death—that alone was enough to hold over her.
"Where did you go afterward?"
The girl blinked blankly, as if trying to recall. She muttered something, but Miaoshan couldn't make it out, so she bent down and asked again: "Where did you go?"
Wen Jiao reached out and lightly touched Miaoshan's neck. A numbing sensation spread through her body. Miaoshan realized something was wrong and tried to call for help, but no sound would come out, and her body collapsed uncontrollably to the floor.
Wen Jiao paid her no mind. She first went to lock the door, then returned and crouched in front of Miaoshan: "Abbess, do you know Madam Wang of the Liu household?"
Miaoshan's mind was clear, but her body would not obey, and her voice was trapped in her throat: "How did you wake up so quickly?!"
Wen Jiao pulled out her silver hairpin, its sharp tip pressing against Miaoshan's well-maintained face. She said sweetly, "Since I knew you'd use Dew-Stamen Lotus and datura, I naturally took the antidote before coming."
"Then you were faking it just now?"
"I did fall for the incense at first—that wasn't an act." The silver hairpin in Wen Jiao's hand pressed down slightly, breaking Miaoshan's skin. "Now it's time for the abbess to answer my questions."
Miaoshan was so frightened her eyes went wide, and she stammered, "Wh-what exactly do you want to ask?"
"What leverage do you hold over Madam Wang?"
"I don't know what you're talking about!"
The silver hairpin slashed harshly across Miaoshan's skin, leaving a deep bloody gash. Wen Jiao held up the bronze mirror before her, all trace of a smile gone from her eyes. "Abbess, I'm really, really anxious—so anxious I want to kill someone."
Miaoshan's eyes were filled with terror. She had thought Wen Jiao was a turtle in a jar, but who would have guessed she herself had become the fish on the chopping block!
The silver hairpin approached Miaoshan's face again, and Wen Jiao said softly, "I've heard that if you make two parallel cuts on a face, when the wounds heal and the skin contracts, the flesh caught between them rolls outward, leaving scars like centipedes—especially ugly!"
Though Miaoshan was no longer young, she cared deeply about her appearance. Hearing Wen Jiao's words, terror flashed in her eyes.
"What leverage does Madam Wang have in your hands?"
"I—I truly can't remember anymore."
Wen Jiao's heart raced. "Where are her things hidden?"
A knock suddenly sounded at the door. A vicious glint flashed in Miaoshan's eyes, and she opened her mouth to shout—but the icy silver hairpin was already thrust between her lips.
Wen Jiao said in a low voice, "If I don't get Madam Wang's things today, the abbess won't leave here alive."
That secret letter could clear the Chen family's ten years of injustice. Wen Jiao had traced her way to Madam Wang through countless twists and turns, and at this very moment, she was closer to the truth than she had ever been.
Her blood seemed to boil, and a buzzing rang in her ears. She feared this was a dream, and she feared the secret letter wasn't in this hidden chamber.
With the silver hairpin stuffed in her mouth, Miaoshan couldn't speak, only casting a panicked look toward the curio cabinet against the wall.
The knocking grew more urgent.
"I'll say the mechanism's position. If I'm right, blink."
Miaoshan blinked rapidly. Wen Jiao first confirmed the row, then the column, and thus pinpointed the mechanism's location.
Wen Jiao smiled at Miaoshan—and the next moment, a poisoned needle sprang from her ring, piercing Miaoshan's nape.
Miaoshan immediately fell unconscious.
Wen Jiao turned the mechanism, and the curio cabinet slid aside, revealing a hidden chamber behind the wall. It was filled with shelves, each one labeled with names and identities.
The door was being pounded thunderously.
Anxiety churned in Wen Jiao's heart, but there were simply too many shelves. She searched several rows without finding Madam Wang's name.
"Commander, that little nun said Miaoshan is in here, but the door's bolted from inside—no matter how we knock, there's no answer!"
The man's voice outside was rough and grating. Wen Jiao started—
Those outside weren't Miaoshan's people!
Commander? The capital had the Palace Command, the Cavalry Command, and the Infantry Command—which one did the man outside belong to?
Whoever it was, they absolutely could not discover the hidden chamber.
They had already begun battering the door. Wen Jiao had no time to hesitate. She quickly restored the curio cabinet to its original state, mussed her own hair, and grabbed a jade vase at random to smash against Miaoshan's head.
Gritting her teeth, she shut her eyes and slammed herself into the armrest of the arhat couch. Stars burst before her vision, and riding that daze, she stumbled toward the door. She drew back the bolt—just as the people outside kicked the door in.
With a loud crash, Wen Jiao was knocked to the ground!
Outside the wide-open door, a man stood silhouetted against the light—narrow-waisted, broad-shouldered, radiating an oppressive aura.
He stepped across the threshold, the fish-scale armor on his body clanking dully with each stride.
He seized Wen Jiao by the front of her robes and hauled her up. His voice was lazy and arrogant:
“Oh, a little beauty.”
Wen Jiao caught her breath and finally got a clear look at the man’s face—one that was wild, untamed, and defiant.
He did not look like someone easy to deal with.
Wen Jiao instinctively shrank back, her almond-shaped eyes misting over with tears, fragile and pitiful.
Shen Xiao froze for a moment, thinking Wen Jiao must be an accomplice of the old nun Miaoshan. Any trace of tenderness for a pretty face vanished in an instant. He tightened his grip and lifted Wen Jiao up like a chick, then ordered his men:
“Take the old nun and everyone in this courtyard back!”
The secret chamber had not been discovered, which steadied Wen Jiao somewhat. She was about to cry out her innocence when Shen Xiao dragged her out, then hoisted her onto a horse. With a squeeze of his thighs, the steed beneath him shot off like the wind.
“I am from the Duke Zhenguo’s household—!” Dust kicked up by the horse’s hooves filled her mouth, choking her until tears and snot streamed down her face.
Her voice was swallowed by the wind, her body jolted until she was dizzy.
By the time the horse stopped, she had gone limp as a wet rag. Shen Xiao roughly carried her across the threshold.
The plaque above the door swung into view, and Wen Jiao made out the characters—Dian Qian Si, the Palace Guard Command.
She was thrown into a cell, her hands locked in restraints on a torture rack.
Miaoshan, still unconscious, was dumped heavily onto the ground.
Shen Xiao lifted Wen Jiao’s face, his rough thumb brushing across her fair, tender skin, his eyes sharp as blades:
“If you don’t want to suffer, tell me all the old nun’s secrets. If you force me to use my methods, there won’t be a single patch of good skin left on you.”
Wen Jiao felt like vomiting but barely held it back, forcing out the words: “I… I’m not Miaoshan’s accomplice. I’m the cousin of Song Langyu, the Vice Minister of the Court of Judicial Review.”
“Hahaha! She says she’s Song Langyu’s cousin!” A burly man with a full beard roared with laughter.
The others joined in, and one of them said:
“Master Song sure has a big reputation! Everyone wants to bask in his glory!”
Wen Jiao looked at Shen Xiao, tears streaming down her face as she choked out: “Officer, I truly am his cousin. Madam Wu, the wife of the Duke Zhenguo, is my aunt. Please, officer, send someone to ask, and you’ll know my identity.”
A flicker of contempt passed through Shen Xiao’s eyes. He sneered: “That old nun is a criminal, and you’re her accomplice. Even if you drag in Song Langyu, or the Duke himself comes in person, no one can save you!”
He raised her chin with his riding whip.
“Stop spinning tales and stalling for time. My whip doesn’t have eyes.”
The girl was only sixteen or seventeen. Though somewhat disheveled, her stunning beauty was undeniable—her eyes like those of a fawn, watery and woeful.
“I’m not Miaoshan’s accomplice! She kidnapped me, I swear!”
Shen Xiao took Wen Jiao’s words as nothing but smooth talk to escape blame. Thinking again of that detestable old nun, rage flared in him, and he raised his whip to strike.
“Master Shen!”
Wen Jiao’s heart eased. She looked up and saw Song Langyu arriving swiftly with his household guards, surrounding the cell in an instant.
Shen Xiao pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, cracked his whip against the torture rack, and glanced sideways at Song Langyu: “Master Song barges into the offices of the Palace Guard Command with armed men—do you take us for weaklings to be bullied?”
The moment the words fell, the sound of blades being drawn in unison rang out.
In the midst of the tense standoff, a girl's miserable cry pierced the air:
"Cousin, save me!"