He slid the curtain a finger’s width aside to reveal two guards, studiously ignoring each other. Hong Fei blinked at seeing a red number 3 above the closer one’s head—a plain-faced woman with her dark hair cut short and her nose appearing to have been broken once or twice. Her shoulders were broad, and fine scars lined her knuckles. A club made of pale stone hung from the belt at her side.
The other guard was a man with a thin mustache and no beard, possessing the kind of face that seemed to be always faintly sneering. He was lankier than the other guard, but wore the same armaments. The man looked down at his hands, rather than at the curtain or the woman across from him.
Hong Fei had expected the numbers above the Oxen’s heads, but this 3 was most definitely a surprise. He couldn’t help wondering if she was the match for the young man he’d learned of—a certain Rock Head who also wore a red 3 above his head. Were the two of them intended for each other, as indicated by the Dao of Fate? Red was supposed to be the color of love and marriage.
A silent sigh passed through Hong Fei’s lips. At this complication, he gestured Sun Han toward the other side of the curtain. The scholar had his own knife out.
“Kill,” Hong Fei mouthed, inclining his head toward the male guard. Then: “Red 3; not kill,” toward the guard with the number of her head.
Sun Han nodded to indicate he understood his orders, then got into position.
The Red 3 looked to be a scrapper from what Hong Fei had seen of her. A strike to the jaw might or might not knock her out, depending on the realm of her cultivation, assuming she was a cultivator.
Hong Fei was only at the first tier of Qi Gathering, and the amount of qi in him was minuscule still. The essence in his lower cauldron was plentiful, however. He let it pour into his chest, arms, and fist. If the woman’s jaw broke as a result, he would apologize later. Besides, if the love between Rock Head and her was truly meant to be, then the two of them shouldn’t mind a few missing teeth.
A nod signaled to Sun Han to go, then Hong Fei shot forward. He caught Red 3 across the jaw. Her head spun with the impact, and she slipped to the ground as she lost consciousness. None of her teeth fell out, however. She’d tempered herself to reach at least the low tiers of Body-Forged.
Across from her, the other guard slumped to the ground as Sun Han had pierced a lung first, then cut his throat. The scholar then moved up the stairs to keep his shoes from getting dirty.
Hong Fei cast an annoyed look his way, then re-positioned the dead body so that it acted as a dam and kept the blood from seeping under the curtain. He made sure that Sun Han watched as he did it, so that the scholar would know what to do in the future.
When Sun Han nodded to show he’d understood, Hong Fei gagged Red 3’s mouth and bound her hands and feet. Whether those measures would work and for how long was uncertain, however, so he decided to continue the plan at a swifter pace. He slipped past Sun Han and rushed up the stairs.
There was a small foyer at the top. An open archway led to a washbasin for morning ablutions, and on the other side was a closet with a waste pot. Past the foyer was a sitting area big enough for a couch and pair of chairs. A table between them held a tea pot and stack of cups.
There was no art on the walls, and the furnishings were simply made. A corridor opposite led to a series of doors on each side, as well as an ornately carved door at the end, the image of a large ox glaring fiercely at him.
If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
From the spacing, it seemed each of the bedrooms leading to the boss’s office was approximately the size of room five. Hong Fei listened intently as he moved, but didn’t hear anything. The staff were all down below working.
Carefully, he pressed his ear against the door to the boss’s office. Once again, he heard nothing. Trying the handle, he found the door locked.
Essence flowed into his arms, his grip on the handle tightened, and he measured out more and more of his energy until the door no longer refused him. The lock snapped, and he pushed his way into the office. Sun Han quickly followed him inside and closed the door behind them.
The first thing Hong Fei noticed was the unmade bed to one side, with rumpled sheets and leather straps tied to the posts. The air in the room was stale, since there was no window, just blank walls without art or decoration. The rug on the floor was a dull brown.
The only artistry was reserved for the carvings of oxen on the sides and legs of the desk, as well as the plushily upholstered chair behind it. There was nowhere else to sit besides the bed.
An accounting book and an oil lamp sat on the desk’s surface, and a cabinet of drawers stood to the side. Hong Fei gestured for Sun Han to look through the book, while he went to the cabinet. He found jars of wine, bundles of medicine, a change of clothes, a collection of pale-white stone shards turned into knives, and a lock box.
Hong Fei didn’t bother with finesse. He pounded one of the rock knives into the crease between lid and box, then his essence powered a twist to shatter the lock. Inside, several hundred silver taels glinted in the lamp light. A smile spread across Hong Fei’s face, and he handed the box to Sun Han so that he could keep looking.
The cabinet didn’t have a false back or bottom, and the same was true for the desk and its drawers. Under the rug was the same stone as the rest of the room.
Hong Fei paused to mouth, “Anything in the book?”
The magic of the cards ensured his summons would always be able to understand him, and in reply Sun Han showed him a page of client names along with the amounts earned from them. One, notably, had the word “gratitude” next to their name instead of an amount: sub-deputy He from the Office of Crime and Punishment.
Alas, it only counted as bribery when the benefit was exchanged for a favor, and that second part of the equation was notoriously difficult to prove, unless the people involved were incompetent, which didn’t appear to be the case in this instance.
Hong Fei shook his head in frustration, put his hands on his hips, and surveyed the room. All was seemingly in order. The cabinet’s contents had been neatly organized. There was hardly any dust—the desk’s surface and the floor swept clean. There was none of the evidence he’d hoped to find to tie the Rock Knives to the people in the tiger masks who’d invaded the Yu estate, the ones able to curse others and distort their fate.
His eyes landed on the rumpled bed, which didn’t fit the pattern of the rest of the room, he realized. Big Ox had had everything else cleaned, probably by the brothel’s staff. Why not the bed? he wondered. Unless he doesn’t want others looking too closely at it.
Hong Fei tore off the sheets and ignored the stains that it revealed. The mattress was thin and closed on one side with pins, so that it may be opened and the mixture of feathers and straw could be easily replaced. There was nothing hidden inside, however.
Underneath the mattress was a series of stone slats to hold it off the ground—stone, not wood, which was what one would’ve been expected.
“Help me with this,” Hong Fei mouthed, and Sun Han came over to help him turn one of the slats over.
Revealed was another list of names, this one chiseled into the stone. However, where the accounting book held the names of important people, or at least those who used family names, these were the monickers and nicknames of the low city’s poor.
There were eleven in total. A Stinky Old Hu topped the list; in the middle, there was a pair, Beauty’s First and Second Daughters; and even Rock Head was listed at the end. Small marks accompanied many of the names, but there was no legend to explain what they meant.
Hong Fei had nearly dropped his end of the list at seeing Rock Head’s name, and his instincts had tingled afterward—not liking the coincidence of things arising as they were.
Hong Fei gestured for Sun Han to help with setting the slat aside, so that they could turn over the next one. They saw more names on it, and the third slat was the same. The number of people listed increased to thirty-three.
Hong Fei thought the pattern would continue, but the fourth and final slat had been engraved with the image of a tiger, the body stretching from the top of the stone to the bottom. The beast faced him with a snarl. The word “Destroy” had been chiseled into one eye, and the other held the word “Fate.”
Characters who’ve been mentioned previously are:
-
Scholar Sun Han, a summons
-
Big Ox, a Rock Knife boss, responsible for the gang's brothels
-
Rock Head, a resident of the low city with a Red 3 above his head