There was an old saying in the godforsaken city of Yanjiang: “Golden water, silver rice, and salt as cheap as sand.”
Water and rice, precious as gold and silver, and bricks of salt, cheap as gravel, were barely enough to sustain a spark of life in this isolated city amid an endless sea of sand.
“The population never exceeds ten thousand. We rely on the salt lake to put rice in our bowls. The City Lord’s family reeks of wine and meat, while the common rabble outside his gates rummage through rubbish for scraps.”
The city’s mischievous children often sang this little rhyme.
The people of Yanjiang City harbored plenty of resentment, but there was nothing they could do about it. The Wang family, who ruled the city, had connections that allowed them to transport rice across the vast desert. Thousands of mouths throughout the city depended on that rice to survive, and everyone had to work for the Wang family in exchange for it. That was why everyone called the City Lord the “Salt King.”
Recently, however, the tyrannical Salt King had found himself in a bit of a predicament.
He had received a message delivered by a flying goose: the imperial court in the Central Plains was coming to investigate him.
Over the past decade or so, the grain transport official who had been in cahoots with him had been arrested and punished by the imperial court. The newly appointed censor had discovered discrepancies in the accounts and was personally bringing the New Year’s grain supplies to Yanjiang City, intending to distribute them to the townspeople as free relief.
“How can I possibly allow that? If these rabble in the city discover that the grain the imperial court has been sending us for all these years was supposed to be free, how am I supposed to remain the City Lord?”
The Salt King had made his fortune by reselling disaster-relief grain. Now that his lucrative business was about to dry up, he was so worried that he could not sleep for several nights.
His Second Madam, whose pregnancy had been disturbing her sleep, could no longer stand his incessant fretting and offered him a crooked solution.
“People who venture into our great desert rarely make it back alive. At worst, we can hire a few assassins to pretend to welcome the imperial officials, then bury them in the yellow sands without anyone knowing…”
The Salt King immediately saw the light. After enthusiastically planting a couple of kisses on his Second Madam, he threw on his robe, went outside, and summoned his drowsy steward.
Salt King: “Here are one thousand taels of gold. Hire some experts for me and have them take care of the people from the imperial court…”
He drew a finger across his throat. The meaning was unmistakable.
The steward was instantly jolted awake by the dazzling gold. He nodded in agreement and sought out Instructor Qin, who worked at the City Lord’s residence.
Steward: “You’re a fugitive who fled from the Central Plains to this place. Do you know what kind of assassin five hundred taels of gold can hire?”
Instructor Qin: “‘Pockmarked Wang’ is fierce, and ‘Old Demon Han’ is fast. Both are ruthless, formidable men.”
Steward: “Is there anyone who’s both fierce and fast? Someone who can take on several hundred imperial soldiers single-handedly?”
Instructor Qin: “Uh… Then there’s only ‘Hundred-Mile Sorrowful Cry,’ the number-one assassin on the imperial court’s most-wanted list. But if you want to hire him, five hundred taels of gold probably won’t even get you a meeting.”
Steward: “Regardless, you have five hundred taels. Find a reliable assassin and get the master’s job done properly.”
Instructor Qin: “I’ll think of something.”
Three days later, a guard at the City Lord’s residence was chatting with the household chef.
Guard: “The master wants a team of imperial envoys killed. He’s offering one hundred taels of gold to hire someone. Do you have any connections?”
Chef: “Uh… I’ll think of something.”
Another three days later, the chef went to chat with the butcher who delivered meat.
Chef: “The master wants a few outsiders killed. He’s offering one hundred taels of silver. Do you know any skilled knife-wielders?”
Butcher: “I’ll think of something.”
Yet another three days later, the butcher went to chat with a local street loafer.
Butcher: “The Salt King wants an outsider killed. He’s offering fifty taels of silver. Find someone who knows how to use a knife.”
Street Loafer: “I’ll think of something.”
A month passed.
By the time the street loafer had squandered more than half of the fifty taels of silver on drinks at a tavern, he finally remembered the assignment. He rushed to Old Kang, the tavern owner, and slapped the Salt King’s “letter of appointment” onto the tavern’s ancient counter.
Street Loafer: “Help me out, Old Kang! If I can’t find an assassin soon, the Salt King will have me made into salted meat!”
Old Kang fiddled with his abacus beads. His usually drooping eyelids lifted slightly, and his gaze, almost as though it had fingers of its own, pointed toward a young woman sitting on a long bench outside the tavern, laboriously sharpening a kitchen knife.
Old Kang let out a derisive chuckle.
“See if you can make do with her.”
The street loafer’s spirits immediately lifted. He hurried outside and pushed aside the door curtain.
At that moment, the setting sun slanted across the street, its soft golden light falling over the knife-sharpening stall beside the tavern and outlining a fluffy little head.
Compared with most of Yanjiang City’s residents, who were sallow and gaunt, the girl sharpening the kitchen knife seemed completely out of place.
She was at the age when a young woman’s features were just beginning to mature. A hint of childishness still lingered at the ends of her gracefully shaped eyebrows. A faint reddish sunburn swept across her porcelain-white cheeks like rouge, bringing to mind images of a full moon surrounded by a halo and blossoms piled beneath snow-covered branches.
Yet the girl’s craft was nowhere near as dazzling as her radiant beauty.
Her gleaming kitchen knife caught the sunset and reflected its light into the tavern. Amid the rhythmic, back-and-forth scraping of the sharpening stone, the patrons sipping their drinks followed the sound of her humming with their eyes.
All they could see were two long, black, curly braids swaying beside her shoulders. Shimmering objects were woven into the braids, but they were not ornaments. They were an assortment of metal tools in various sizes.
“So there’s still a beauty on East Street who hasn’t been swept into the Young City Lord’s residence…” the street loafer murmured, rubbing his chin as he reluctantly dragged his fascinated gaze away.
Old Kang put away his abacus and snorted.
“That girl is from the Zhenchi Asylum.”
At the words “Zhenchi Asylum,” the street loafer suddenly sobered up. Suspicion and apprehension flickered across his face.
The Zhenchi Asylum was the madhouse west of Yanjiang City.
The street loafer used to frequent the western district as well. With Old Kang’s reminder, he immediately recalled the girl’s background.
She was the adopted daughter of the asylum’s shaman-doctor. Once she turned fourteen, her heartless adoptive mother had demanded that she pay rent every month. Otherwise, she would be kicked out.
Presumably, there were simply too many poor people in the western district, leaving the unfortunate girl with no choice but to seek work in the eastern district.
The street loafer sighed sympathetically, then watched as Old Kang walked to the doorway.
“Subing, is the knife ready?”
“All done! Rub a little oil on it, and it’ll last you another two years!”
At the girl’s crisp reply, Subing lifted her head. Tiny beads of glistening sweat adorned her eyebrows and eyelashes. Whenever she blinked, flecks of light like shattered gold seemed to flicker between her brows and eyes.
Old Kang tossed her a small string of copper coins, took the knife from her hand, and ran a finger along its edge before nodding.
“Not bad. Your sharpening skills keep getting better and better. Your elders must have taught you well.”
Subing counted the copper coins in her hand twice, then scratched her head.
“Grandpa Kang, did you give me too much money? I only asked for eighteen copper coins, but you gave me… twenty-five?”
Old Kang blinked.
“That’s right. You must have counted wrong. Go home and count them slowly.”
“Oh,” Subing replied.
She put away her tools and started walking home.
“Old Kang, I’m heading out first! Put my drinks on credit!” The street loafer wiped the traces of alcohol from his mouth. Without even bothering to set upright the stool he had knocked over, he hurried after her.
Old Kang picked up the stool and leaned out to watch the street loafer following Subing with clearly dishonest intentions. He shook his head and lowered the door panel to close the tavern.
“In this murderous city of Yanjiang, buried in a treacherous desert, who would dare venture out to make a living without a few tricks up their sleeve? That’s practically asking to die…”
…
It was the hour when demons roamed, and the poor alleyways of Yanjiang City were sparsely populated.
Subing counted her money as she walked, muttering numbers under her breath.
The setting sun fell across her delicate, beautiful face, attracting the attention of a passing child. The little one stared at her blankly, a finger in his mouth, until his mother grabbed him by the ear and dragged him away.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed? Watch out, or that idiot will snap your arm in half!”
It was not just passing mothers and children who avoided Subing. Even the thugs lurking in the alleys of the western district averted their eyes when she passed.
Only the street loafer, who had not returned to this part of the city in years, cheerfully hurried after her.
At a street corner, he rushed ahead and blocked her path. Planting one hand against the wall, he stylishly ran his fingers through his greasy hair.
Subing was still counting her copper coins.
“Eleven… twelve… thirteen…”
“Subing!”
“Thirteen… fourteen…”
“Subing! Oh, it’s been two years! Do you still remember me? I’m Hei Liu! Come to think of it, your mother was the one who delivered me when I was born!”
“Fifteen… what comes after fifteen…”
“Is your mother still forcing you to save money? You work yourself to the bone every day. Is it even enough to cover your rent? I’ve got a lucrative business opportunity for you.”
As he spoke, he reached out and grabbed Subing’s thick, black braid without thinking. The awl and little scissors woven into it pricked his hand, making him gasp and immediately let go.
But in the brief moment he had distracted her, the copper coins in Subing’s hand had scattered all over the ground.
She turned to look at him without changing her expression.
Hei Liu grinned and produced an ink pad and the Salt King’s letter of appointment.
“You can’t keep sharpening knives every day! How long will it take you to save enough for your dowry at this rate? Look, all you need to do is put your fingerprint here, and you’ll be rich in no time!”
He eagerly grabbed Subing’s hand and was about to press her finger into the ink when, suddenly, Subing twisted her hand around his neck, lifted him bodily off the ground, and pinned him against the wall.
Hei Liu’s feet dangled in the air. He stared at the slender girl before him in shock, finally understanding why, despite her extraordinary beauty, she had never caught the attention of the City Lord’s household.
“You…”
“If you disturb me while I’m counting again, I’ll snap your neck.”
Her five fingers tightened slightly. Her voice was calm, as though she were speaking to an inanimate object.
“You…” Hei Liu’s face turned bright red as he frantically beat at Subing’s arm, but to no avail. “You crazy woman!”
“Shh…” Subing raised a finger to her lips, signaling him to be quiet. In a hushed voice, she said, “My mother told me that before I hold the wedding ceremony with Scholar Gao, I mustn’t let him find out I’m crazy. If he finds out, he’ll have to silence me.”
Hei Liu finally looked genuinely terrified. He began to sob and whimper.
“Big Sister Subing, I was blind and failed to recognize a truly formidable person! Please, please spare me!”
Subing promptly released him and bent down to pick up the copper coins scattered across the ground.
Freed at last, Hei Liu immediately tried to leave. After taking two steps, however, he rubbed his neck and looked back at Subing, who was gathering her money.
Having spent so long among the prosperous, peaceful residents of the eastern district, he had apparently forgotten that this girl belonged to the Zhenchi Asylum in the western district.
The Zhenchi Asylum took in everyone in the city who suffered from madness. To survive among madmen, one had to be even madder and more ruthless than they were.
Perhaps she really could carry out the Salt King’s assignment.
It’s only a matter of killing an outsider. She can definitely handle it.
Having convinced himself, he ingratiatingly approached her again.
“Big Sister Subing, how about earning this money? I still have five taels of silver here. If you come with me to the City Lord’s residence, I’ll give it all to you!”
Subing remained unmoved, wiping the dust off her copper coins.
“I haven’t learned how to count silver yet. Mumu said I have to master counting copper coins this year. I can learn how to count silver next year.”
Hei Liu: “But it’s silver! One tael can be exchanged for five hundred copper coins!”
At the familiar unit of measurement, Subing finally showed a little interest.
“How many ten-copper-coin groups are there in five hundred copper coins?”
Hei Liu: “Fifty groups of ten.”
Subing: “Fifty copper coins?”
Hei Liu: “No, I mean… five groups of ten groups of ten copper coins.”
Subing: “Fifteen copper coins?”
Hei Liu painfully rubbed his face, summoning the last scraps of his patience to explain.
“It means that doing this one job for me will earn you as much as sharpening fifty knives. Understand now?!”
Subing’s clear, limpid eyes suddenly lit up.
“Oh! That’s a big order—fifty knives!”
Hei Liu raised his voice to match her excitement.
“That’s right!”
Happily, Subing grabbed his hand.
“Then let’s go! We’ll head to your place right now and sharpen those fifty knives!”
Hei Liu: “Huh?”
Half an hour later, in front of a private residence in the eastern district…
Instructor Qin had just finished a tender moment with his mistress and was about to take a leisurely puff of tobacco when the steward from the City Lord’s residence showed up.
Without a word of explanation, the steward slapped him hard across the head.
“Where’s the assassin? The assassin I told you to find last month! It’s already the end of the month, and the imperial court’s message has arrived! The censor will be in Yanjiang City within ten days!”
The slap sent Instructor Qin spinning around in place. At last, his thoughts returned from the bedroom to the matter at hand.
“Uh… the imperial officials are coming this soon? In previous years, they didn’t arrive until after the Shehuo Festival!”
“Damn it, how should I know why they’re early this year?” the steward snapped, snatching the tobacco pipe from Instructor Qin’s hand. “I can delay that letter from the imperial court for another three days. Within those three days, find the best assassin in the entire city and kill that grain-inspection censor! If you can’t do it, you won’t even have to wait for the master to kill you. I’ll personally turn you into fragrant braised meat!”
Instructor Qin panicked instantly. He had already distributed the reward money the steward had given him. Heaven alone knew what sort of people his subordinates had managed to find.
“Well, you know how it is. Anyone in this city with blood on their hands won’t lift a finger without a profit…”
“Five hundred taels of gold isn’t enough?! Don’t tell me you pocketed it all!”
“Of course not! I’ve already instructed my men to find the fiercest and most capable assassin in the entire city!”
“And have they killed the target yet? We’re practically out of time! I haven’t even seen a single hair of this assassin, and you’re still spouting nonsense!”
Under the steward’s suspicious stare, Instructor Qin broke into a cold sweat.
Then, at the far end of the street, he spotted Hei Liu approaching with an extraordinarily beautiful young woman. The two were chatting as they walked, and she was carrying the City Lord’s letter of appointment.
Instructor Qin’s eyes immediately lit up.
“Hei Liu! Where’s the assassin the Salt King ordered you to find?!”
“Found one! Found one!”
Both men looked in their direction.
Subing approached, carrying a small stool under her arm, her expression obedient and sweet.
“Her?” The two men stared at her suspiciously.
“Her,” Hei Liu declared, shamelessly making things up. “Don’t let her age fool you. She’s been an experienced veteran of the western district for years! I even had to pay this much to hire her!”
He hurried forward and waggled his eyebrows at them, holding up five fingers.
Then he turned to Subing.
“You’re…”
Catching Hei Liu’s signal, Subing answered truthfully.
“I’m the fastest knife sharpener in the city. Fifty knives are nothing. I can deliver them within three days. Late delivery comes with compensation. Honest service, fair prices!”
Steward Wang held up five fingers.
“They really paid you this much?”
Subing nodded solemnly.
“It’s the biggest order I’ve ever received in my life.”
“Hmm…” Steward Wang scrutinized her suspiciously. “I know this city is full of talented people, but you’re so young…”
Afraid her client might back out, Subing quickly assured him, “Don’t worry. I’ve been in this trade for ten years. I’ve sharpened at least eight or nine hundred knives, if not a thousand. You can ask around. Not a single one of my clients has ever complained about my work.”
Steward Wang had never imagined that Instructor Qin had actually used the entire five hundred taels of gold to hire an assassin without pocketing a single tael.
After all, there were very few formidable people in this city who could casually take down fifty armed imperial soldiers.
In an instant, he put away his contempt.
“As the saying goes, you get what you pay for. Since this young lady, the… Master of Demonic Blades, dares to accept an assignment from the City Lord, she must possess extraordinary skills.”
Hearing someone praise her craftsmanship, Subing grew a little embarrassed.
“I suppose I’m all right. My grandfather taught me. When money was tight, if I didn’t sharpen a couple of knives in a day, he wouldn’t even let me through the door when I got home.”
“So your skills have been passed down through the family!” Steward Wang exchanged a bewildered glance with Instructor Qin and slapped his thigh. “May I ask your name and lineage, young lady?”
Subing raised her head with a smile and announced her full name.
“Zhenchi Asylum, Qi Hansu.”