Chapter Seven: The Assassin of the Netherworld Pavilion
After Shen Hua left, a woman in red emerged from behind the master, idly twirling a dagger in her hand. A faint, almost imperceptible cold smile curled at the corner of her lips as murderous intent gleamed in her eyes, fixed in the direction Shen Hua had departed.
“She seems different somehow. Perhaps there’s something in Nanjing City she cares about now,” the woman said, casting a blossoming rose-like smile at the master.
The master replied coldly, “Shi Yin Niang, my men are not for you to command.”
Shi Yin Niang raised her delicate brows and spoke slowly, “Don’t be angry. I’m just kindly reminding you that our plan is already underway. We cannot afford any mistakes at this critical juncture; otherwise, the Pavilion Lord will be displeased.”
By the time Shen Hua arrived at the Ghost Market, dawn had broken, and during the day, few dared to wander there. Her thoughts lingered on the master’s words all the way. For over a decade, she had lived in the mud, walking in darkness. Blessed with an extraordinary talent for learning, she underwent relentless training day and night, her wounds healing and reopening repeatedly. In ten years, she rose to become a top assassin of the Netherworld Pavilion.
Assassins of the Netherworld Pavilion were divided into four ranks. The lowest, called White Pigeons, mainly handled intelligence transmission. The third rank, known as Shadows, were scattered throughout various places, their identities diverse—beggars by the roadside or innkeepers. The second rank, Hunters, though less intellectually gifted than the top tier, excelled in using hidden weapons and exceptional combat skills, often dispatched for special missions. At the pinnacle were seven assassins called Phantom Winds. These warriors, though less physically powerful than Hunters, were masters of strategy and possessed unique supernatural abilities—some specialized in illusions, others in venomous arts, some in disguise, and some, like Shen Hua, could communicate with spirits.
“Big Sister Shen, where have you been?”
A group of children gathered around her, their eyes bright and curious, like ripe grapes fixed on Shen Hua.
A faint smile appeared on Shen Hua’s face as she replied, “I was gathering herbs.” One of the older children pressed his lips together, tugging at her sleeve as if to whisper a secret.
Bending down, Shen Hua placed her ear close to the child’s mouth. In a childish voice, he asked, “Big Sister Shen, can I ask you something? Can your eyes really see ghosts? My father says you can see my mother. What does she look like?”
Shen Hua looked at the child and said softly, “Your mother is a kind woman, very gentle and beautiful. When she smiles, her eyes curve like a crescent moon, and there is a beauty mark between her brows.”
The child shook his head and murmured, “Oh.”
Patting the child’s head, Shen Hua said, “Let’s go.”
Back at the clinic, Shen Hua changed into clean clothes and sat before the bronze mirror. She removed the jade hairpin her master had placed in her hair, glanced at it briefly, and then stored it in a wooden box. Staring at her reflection, she seemed to catch a glimpse of her mother’s face. They looked very much alike, especially their eyes. Yet more than ten years ago, during a catastrophe, she had lost her sight. The first person she saw upon awakening was her master, who revealed that both her life and her eyes were gifts from him. She was not yet ten years old then, the sole survivor in the entire household.
“Knock, knock, knock.”
A few raps came from outside. Shen Hua drew back her thoughts and quickly rose to answer the door of the clinic’s main room.
“Is anyone here...?”
A young girl’s voice came softly like a gentle breeze.
Judging by her attire, Shen Hua knew right away she was from a wealthy family. A maid her age followed closely behind.
“Please come in, guest,” Shen Hua said coldly.
The girl relaxed upon seeing Shen Hua and sighed softly before stepping inside.
“Here to seek treatment or medicine?”
The girl said nothing, her eyes scanning every detail of the clinic.
“Miss, I asked if you want treatment or medicine?” Shen Hua’s impatience surfaced.
Still absorbed in her observations, the girl’s maid tugged at her sleeve and whispered, “Miss, she’s asking you a question!”
The girl snapped out of her trance, then excitedly said, “Are you really the ghost doctor Shen Hua?”
Shen Hua nodded.
“I’m Wen Yingxue. I’ve heard of your exceptional medical skills. I came today to seek your help. I expected you to be middle-aged, but you’re such a beautiful young lady.”
Wen Yingxue’s eyes twinkled with a hint of amusement as she looked at Shen Hua.
Feeling somewhat uneasy under her gaze, Shen Hua stepped aside and asked, “So, treatment or medicine?”
“Treatment, but...”
Wen Yingxue hesitated.
Shen Hua instantly understood her intent. Anyone who came to the clinic outside daytime hours often spoke this way—hesitating, nervous.
“The time is not right, and I already have other patients today. Please come again tomorrow.”
“No, I’m only free today, and it’s a rare chance,” Wen Yingxue said, grabbing Shen Hua’s arm.
Uncomfortable with the contact, Shen Hua instinctively pulled her hand away.
“Miss, since you found me, you must know my rules.”
Wen Yingxue glanced at her maid and muttered, “That Taoist was truly a fraud—I even gave him silver.” Then she smiled playfully at Shen Hua, dimples deepening her charm.
“Miss Shen, please make an exception just this once. I only have today before I must return.”
Shen Hua studied her carefully and said, “Rules cannot be broken. If you truly wish for treatment, leave your address. I will come to your residence around dusk tomorrow.”
Wen Yingxue nodded reluctantly. She wrote down her address and, as she left, added, “The main gate will be locked at night. You can only enter through the back. I will have someone open the door for you.”
Shen Hua replied calmly, “No need to leave the gate open. I will find my own way.”
Wen Yingxue responded with an “Oh,” though a flicker of doubt lingered. Unsure how Shen Hua would enter the mansion, she instructed her maid, Zhu’er, to guard the back gate at dusk.
“I wonder what Brother-in-law has been busy with lately. He hasn’t visited the mansion in ages,” Wen Yingxue said, her cheeks flushing as her smile deepened.
Zhu’er answered, “Perhaps the young master has been busy solving a case.”
Wen Yingxue tapped Zhu’er lightly on the head. “I know. It’s a difficult case. Father has also been returning home late.”
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Lu Chenzhou and Wei Shiqi made their way to the Misty Pavilion. They had prepared well for this meeting. Though Wei Shiqi was a member of the Imperial Secret Police, the Misty Pavilion was unlike any ordinary place—people of the Jianghu never cared about official affiliations.
“How do I look?”
Wei Shiqi eyed Lu Chenzhou, dressed in coarse hemp clothing, a short knife at his waist, and a false beard stuck to his lip. He gave a thumbs-up.
“Not bad. Brother Lu can truly adapt.”
“You secret police are always out in the wind and rain—you naturally carry a Jianghu aura.”
Wei Shiqi nodded repeatedly, “Yes, yes, exactly.”
As night fell, they arrived at the pavilion. The main door was tightly shut. Without the sign reading “Misty Pavilion” above, it would have been hard to recognize the place.
Just as Lu Chenzhou reached to push the door open, it swung inward. The person stepping out met his gaze. Lu Chenzhou greeted with a respectful bow. The visitor, apparently in a hurry, nodded and quickly left.
“Gentlemen, drinking or lodging?”
A woman carrying a lantern appeared from nowhere.
Lu Chenzhou pinched his beard and said calmly, “Drinking.”
“Are you the innkeeper here?” Wei Shiqi asked.
The woman smiled, “Oh, good eye, sir.”
The innkeeper then inquired, “Where have you two come from?”
“Jizhou, Jizhou,” both answered at once, though neither truly believed their own words.
Wei Shiqi hurried to explain, “We arranged to meet here for some business.”
The innkeeper saw through them but said nothing, smiling, “I understand. No one who comes here ever tells the truth.”
Lu Chenzhou and Wei Shiqi exchanged a glance.
“Please, come inside.”
The innkeeper led them through the door into the main hall, where they sat in a secluded spot. A waiter quickly approached and greeted them, “Where are you from, sirs? What would you like to drink?”
“The finest wine—two pots. Just some simple food is fine,” Wei Shiqi replied.
The waiter grinned, revealing gold-capped front teeth that gleamed brightly.
“Alright, please wait a moment. Good wine and food coming right up.”
“Waiter, what’s the innkeeper’s name?”
The waiter rolled his eyes at Lu Chenzhou’s question and busied himself attending to other guests.
Lu Chenzhou was about to argue but was stopped by Wei Shiqi.
“This is no ordinary tavern. Didn’t you notice the waiter’s teeth are gilded?”
Pouring himself some tea, Lu Chenzhou whispered, “I noticed. What’s the plan?”
“No rush. Let’s eat and watch.”
Wei Shiqi’s gaze was already fixed on the innkeeper ascending the stairs.
Meanwhile, Shen Hua had fallen asleep leaning over the clinic’s counter. She awoke after some time, disturbed by the barking of dogs. The sky was fully dark now. She knew Ji Liu would arrive soon but was unsure of his skill. She resolved to adapt as needed.
A soft chime sounded, signaling something approaching. Lighting an oil lamp, Shen Hua opened the clinic door. The Ghost Market, accompanied by the eerie whistle of the wind, felt especially sinister tonight.
Soon, a familiar figure appeared inside.
“Did you dream of her again last night?”
From the moment Ji Liu stepped in, Shen Hua detected the scent of burning, certain that the entity had followed him. Ji Liu closed the clinic door behind him and nodded earnestly, then produced five taels of silver from his pocket, placing them beside Shen Hua’s hand.
“I said yesterday, since you helped me, I won’t take your money. Take it back.”
Shen Hua’s eyes never left Ji Liu’s back.
Ji Liu could only retrieve the silver and replied, “Has she arrived already?”
Shen Hua asked, “How long has she been dead?”
“Ten years—no, ten years and two months.”
His voice trembled as he clenched his fists nervously.
“Why does she refuse to leave, and why does she appear like this?”
Shen Hua looked at Ji Liu, then shifted her gaze behind him. There stood a woman in pale blue robes, sorrow etched across her face. Half of her visage was burned away, leaving only bone exposed; half her skull was hollow. The scent of burning grew stronger within the clinic.