Xie Yunjin did not reply.
He leaned against the window.
The snow particles clinging to his cloak had not yet melted; illuminated by the candlelight, they looked like a handful of crushed salt.
Another cluster of fireworks burst across the horizon, casting a red glow on his profile, making him look solitary yet fiercely striking.
Ci’er wore a half-smile as she continued tracing her eyebrows in the copper mirror.
“Second Master didn’t sneak over in the dark just to invite me to watch the fireworks, did he?”
“If I did, would you go?”
“No.” Ci’er set down her eyebrow pencil and pressed her lips together in the mirror.
“The Nine-Bestowments Royal Mansion’s family banquets are famous for their lively music and bustling crowds.
Is it that you naturally dislike lively scenes, Second Master, or did they simply not save you a seat at the mansion?
Why run to the maid selection office to freeze in the cold wind?”
Xie Yunjin looked at the beauty in the mirror.
“Wei Yinzhao, do you know what your greatest skill is out of all your abilities?”
“What is it?”
“Your wicked tongue,” he said.
“The Prince Mansion family banquet is a show put on for outsiders.
As a bloodstained, illegitimate son, sitting there is just an eyesore.
Besides, I find that hypocritical liveliness dirties my ears.”
Ci’er shot him a sideways glance through the mirror.
“Your ears are so precious, Second Master, yet you still come here to ask for a scolding?”
Xie Yunjin scoffed, his tone cool and indifferent.
“Tell me, when Xie Chen sought you out the other day, did he show any sign of affection?”
“Every word was filled with suspicion, and every sentence was about the bizarre case.
Where would there be even half a trace of personal affection?” Ci’er turned to look at him, her expression turning serious.
“It’s been so long since a new Painted Skin Case.
Don’t you find that strange, Second Master?”
Xie Yunjin strolled from the window to the vanity.
He casually picked up her rouge and absentmindedly toyed with the lid.
Getting a bit on his finger, he seemed amused by it.
Only when Ci’er cast a cold glare at him did he set it down.
“Xie Chen has informed the Five Cities Military Department to deploy additional night patrol soldiers in every neighborhood and alley.
They’ve also left a hidden post to stake out the previous crime scenes.
Furthermore, the neighborhoods have implemented a collective responsibility system where any suspicious persons coming and going must be reported to the authorities.
With over a hundred Hidden Posts, it’s an inescapable net.
No matter how bold the killer is, they wouldn’t dare throw themselves onto the blade right now.”
“No wonder…” Ci’er came to a sudden realization.
“Don’t worry about that.” Xie Yunjin curled his lips into a smile and leaned in closer.
His voice dropped low, as if wrapped in a layer of thin frost.
“Hooking Xie Chen is more useful than solving ten Painted Skin Cases.”
Ci’er raised her eyes to look at him.
The copper mirror reflected the two of them.
Their eyes met—a handsome man and a beautiful woman.
At first glance, they looked exactly like a perfect match.
However, upon closer inspection, one would find no affection in either of their eyes.
The candlelight dancing on their eyelashes resembled the cold gleam on a blade’s edge: calm and calculating.
A shrill, bloodcurdling scream abruptly erupted from outside the courtyard.
“Help!
The Painted Skin Ghost is here!”
The voice came from the east courtyard, followed immediately by a short, muffled grunt.
It sounded as if someone’s mouth had been covered, abruptly cutting off the noise.
Xie Yunjin’s aura darkened, the smile instantly vanishing from his face.
He drew his Windchaser Saber backhandedly and darted toward the door, his movements as fast as a shadow.
Ci’er snapped back to her senses.
She grabbed her outer robe from the headboard, threw it over her shoulders, and pulled a dagger from under her pillow.
“Stay where you are and bolt the door.” Xie Yunjin glanced back at her before pushing open the door and vanishing into the wind and snow.
***
The snowy night was bitterly cold.
A crowd of maids gathered in front of the east courtyard’s wing room.
Every one of them was deathly pale, their expressions a mix of horror and panic.
Aunt Cui squeezed through the crowd holding a lantern.
The light illuminated the ground, revealing a gruesome sight.
A person lay on the floor.
It was Lu Kuo, one of the candidate maids.
She was lying face down, her head steeped in a pool of blood.
Her face was entirely gone—from her hairline to her jaw, the entire skin had been peeled off.
Blood was still gushing out, soaking the ground in a shocking, stark crimson.
Cui Wei had collapsed softly to the side.
Her hair bun was disheveled, and a bright red streak of blood marked her temple.
She had been knocked out and had only just regained consciousness.
Opening her eyes and catching sight of the horrific scene on the floor, she instantly broke down.
“The two of us were watching the charcoal basin tonight…
My stomach was hurting terribly, so I told Lu Kuo to cover for me for a bit while I went to the latrine to relieve myself…
I was only gone for a short while…
and then, then this happened to Lu Kuo…”
The maid selection office required people to stay up at night to watch the charcoal basins to prevent fires or carbon monoxide poisoning.
They worked in pairs on a rotating shift, and Cui Wei and Lu Kuo had been assigned to the same group.
Cui Wei was known for being arrogant and bossy, while Lu Kuo was a pushover.
The “short while” she spoke of was most likely spent hiding somewhere to slack off and sleep.
Everyone around knew her habits, but no one exposed her in public.
Did you clearly see which way they went?”
Feeling guilty, Cui Wei didn’t dare look at anyone.
She just covered her face and wailed, “I was so scared my soul nearly left my body!
I had just shouted once when I took a blow to the head, and I knew nothing after that…”
The crowd erupted into an uproar as fear spread like a tidal wave.
Ci’er stood silently at the back of the crowd.
Sweeping her gaze over the courtyard wall, she saw a dark figure leaping gracefully into the air, stepping lightly on the snow.
He vaulted onto the top of the wall, his Moxu cloak billowing and snapping in the night wind.
It was Xie Yunjin.
The Windchaser Saber shattered the snowy gale, its imposing aura piercing the night sky.
From beyond the courtyard wall came the urgent clashing of metal, hurried footsteps, and the sound of clothes whipping through the wind.
The situation was incredibly intense.
“Second Master!
At the alley entrance—”
Another muffled thud followed.
Then, a burst of white powder exploded at the top of the wall, scattered by the wind like a sudden patch of fog.
“Watch out, Second Master!” Ying Qi’s voice cracked in alarm.
Ci’er took a few steps back, her nerves taut as she caught the scent of pungent medicine.
The clashing of weapons gradually faded into the distance, eventually swallowed whole by the blizzard.
Girls ran out of the various wing rooms.
Some were screaming, some were crying, and others were so frightened they threw up on the spot.
The light from the lanterns swung erratically across the snow, illuminating everyone’s faces in fitful flickers, making them look like a flock of startled birds.
That crumpled mass of skin was thrown right next to the corpse, soaking in the bloody water.
The killer hadn’t had time to take it with them.
Two Brocade Robe Officers covered the body with a straw mat.
They sealed the peeled-off facial skin in oiled paper for preservation and carried it away along with the corpse.
Aunt Cui’s face was devoid of color.
Her legs went weak, and she could barely stand.
“Go back to your rooms.
Lock your doors and windows, and no one is allowed out at night.”
Cui Wei was helped back into her room, where she huddled in the corner of her bed, trembling all over.
The wound on her forehead had stopped bleeding, but a large lump had swollen up.
Aunt Cui had someone wipe it with distilled liquor and apply a cold compress, but she did not call for a doctor.
On a New Year’s night like this, doctors considered it taboo to make house calls.
Moreover, the Painted Skin Ghost had been silent for many days, yet chose to commit murder on New Year’s Eve—a day of family reunions—and specifically targeted a candidate from the maid selection office.
This was clearly a deliberate provocation against the court.
With so many girls possessing An All-Yin Birth Chart here, the maid selection office was practically a shooting gallery of living targets for the killer…
No one knew who would be next…