Chapter Nine: The White Crow

“This is too troublesome. Sister, why don’t you just use the corpse-dissolving liquid to deal with him?”

A delicate girl’s voice echoed through the pitch-black graveyard, accompanied by the sound of a shovel shoveling earth.

“Jiang Huaiyu, are you working alone this time, or with Master?”

Jiang Huaiyu was the only person in the Netherworld Pavilion whom Shen Hua could exchange a few words with. Though only seventeen, she possessed mastery over all the deadly poison arts in the world. When she unleashed her venom, she was as lethal and ruthless as a poisonous insect. Yet, in front of Shen Hua, she was the very picture of the girl-next-door, with eyes as lovely as crescent moons when she smiled.

Jiang Huaiyu hopped twice on the freshly filled earth, pouting her lips playfully before smiling at Shen Hua again. “Master sent me to check on you and see if you need any help.”

“Lying.”

Shen Hua’s gaze was sharp as a blade, fixed on Jiang Huaiyu.

“Sister Hua, I’m really not lying. If I am, may lightning strike me.”

No sooner had she spoken than a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky.

Jiang Huaiyu pressed her lips together, her eyes flickering nervously.

Shen Hua picked up the shovel, tamped down the earth firmly once more, then lifted her leg and walked away, leaving Jiang Huaiyu standing alone.

“Sister, wait for me.”

“Wherever you came from, go back there. Don’t follow me.”

Without turning her head, Shen Hua strode forward. At that moment, droplets began to fall from the sky.

By the time they returned to the clinic, both their coats were soaked. Shen Hua glanced at Jiang Huaiyu coldly. “Come in and dry your clothes.” With that, she pulled a brown pill from a drawer in the medicine cabinet and stuffed it into Jiang Huaiyu’s mouth, taking one herself.

After a moment, white smoke curled from their clothes and hair. Shen Hua brewed a pot of tea and sat upright at the table, scrutinizing Jiang Huaiyu. “You came to my clinic a few days ago, didn’t you?”

Jiang Huaiyu took a stool and sat opposite Shen Hua, resting her chin in her hands and pouting. “Sister, I was wrong.”

“No, you’re not wrong. Master sent you to help me, didn’t he?”

Shen Hua furrowed her brow slightly and patted Jiang Huaiyu’s shoulder. In front of Shen Hua, Jiang Huaiyu was like a little rabbit whose every move was seen through.

“Alright, I admit it. I came here three days ago, but you happened to be out, so I stayed in your clinic for a while and took a few things.”

Her voice dropped low.

“Those herbs were hard-earned by me, yet you didn’t hesitate to take them. Three years apart, and your hands are still not clean.”

Seeing the displeasure on Shen Hua’s face diminish considerably, Jiang Huaiyu secretly sighed in relief, blinking and smiling mischievously. “I just wanted to treat my beloved little treasures!”

The “treasures” Jiang Huaiyu spoke of were the deadly poisonous insects and scorpions. When she was in the Netherworld Pavilion, she often begged Shen Hua for these. Sometimes, when Shen Hua refused, Jiang Huaiyu would sneak in and steal them while Shen Hua was out.

Suddenly, Shen Hua asked sharply, “After three years, have you managed to develop the medicine?”

Jiang Huaiyu was momentarily stunned before a sly gleam flashed in her eyes, barely noticeable. Then her face lit up with an innocent smile. “Um… not yet.”

Shen Hua asked again, “Did you tell Master about this?”

Jiang Huaiyu raised four fingers and raised her voice, “I swear, I haven’t told anyone.” Then, lowering her voice so only Shen Hua could hear, she added, “Sister, your illness isn’t really serious. Sometimes forgetting things isn’t such a bad thing.”

Shen Hua did not hear the answer she wanted. She lowered her gaze, fingers tapping the table. Long ago, she had noticed that after consulting spirits, she would forget things the next day. She had been searching for a cure ever since, but to no avail.

“Today, you may stay in the clinic overnight. But before dawn tomorrow, you must leave.”

Having finished her tea, Shen Hua drained the cup and rose to leave. Once Shen Hua was gone, Jiang Huaiyu plopped down arrogantly in front of the table, yawned, and closed her eyes.

The next morning, the clinic was empty. Shen Hua opened a window; the morning mist still lingered, drifting like strands of silk, delicate and elusive.

During the day, few ventured into the Ghost Market. Apart from some children who rose early to attend classes at the nearby Wuwang Study Hall, most people only came out after noon. The study hall was known for an elderly scholar who, unlike others, did not despise the children of the Ghost Market and charged only a small tuition. Shen Hua’s reason for rising early today was because she visited this scholar every fortnight, bringing him specially prepared cough-relieving and calming pills.

After breakfast and tidying the clinic, Shen Hua noticed something pressed under the inkstone on the table and remembered she had promised to handle a matter for Wen Yingxue today. Without delay, she closed the clinic door and set off. There was a shortcut from the Ghost Market to the study hall, saving much travel time, so Shen Hua took it.

Midway, a flock of white crows suddenly flew overhead. Shen Hua looked up, unease flickering across her face. Black crows were common, but white crows were rare; the last time she had seen such was at the Netherworld Pavilion, and most white crows were kept by people.

Hastening her pace, Shen Hua arrived at the study hall entrance, where clear voices of reading echoed within. She gently pushed open the door, passed by a pond, and finally sat in a pavilion beside the classroom. The scholar was old, nearing the end of his years, and Shen Hua often saw her father’s shadow in him. He was the only person in Nanjing City with whom she could truly speak. The brushes, inks, paper, and inkstones in her clinic were gifts from him; in return, she sometimes gave him free pulse diagnoses.

“What are you daydreaming about?” the scholar asked with a smile, holding a tray of pastries as he climbed the steps.

“After half a month, you’ve learned to make pastries?” Shen Hua teased.

He placed the tray before her. “Eat. I knew you’d come today, so I bought these yesterday to show my thanks to the divine doctor for caring for an old man like me.”

“Osmanthus cakes,” Shen Hua said, taking a piece.

“I heard from the children that you’ve been busy lately. No matter how busy, you must eat on time, or you’ll suffer the consequences when you’re old.”

“Master, you’re unusually talkative today—not like yourself.”

Finishing the last bite, Shen Hua gave a subtle signal for him to extend his arm so she could feel his pulse.

The scholar’s expression remained calm, a faint smile on his lips. “I feel well lately, so no pulse diagnosis today. Put the medicines in my study. Also, I found a few medical books you wanted last time; they’re on the desk. You can get them yourself later.”

Rising, he took a few steps but then turned back to Shen Hua. “Girl, life is but a few short decades. You can’t live always in the past, or you’ll never move forward.”

Shen Hua went to the study, gathered the medical books, but the scholar’s words lingered in her mind, seeming to carry some hidden meaning. The scholar was fond of orchids, tending to them daily with nutrients and pruning. Before leaving, Shen Hua placed ten taels of silver in the flowerpot.

Looking back at the scholar teaching the children, an uneasy feeling rose in Shen Hua’s heart, whether from the ever-present white crows above or the scholar’s words. Regardless, there were matters she had to attend to. Before leaving, she bowed respectfully in the scholar’s direction.

Outside the clinic, Lu Chenzhou and Wei Shiqi paced back and forth. They had knocked on the door for a while without a response. The Ghost Market was deserted at noon, and they could find no one to ask.

“Most people in the Ghost Market come out only after noon. Maybe Shen Hua went out yesterday and came back late, so she’s still sleeping?”

Wei Shiqi murmured.

Lu Chenzhou shook his head. “She’s gone out.”

Wei Shiqi drooped his head. “How do you know?”

“The front was swept.”

“What do we do now? It’s been four days, and we still can’t confirm the identities of those headless corpses. No heads found, no clues about that Netherworld Pavilion.”

“Let’s go to the imperial tomb and check on Zhou Zheng’s progress with the tomb raiders.”

Having failed to find Shen Hua, the two returned, riding halfway when their horses suddenly stopped as if startled. The horses spun in place wildly before throwing the riders off mercilessly. Yet the horses didn’t stop, racing madly ahead until out of sight.

Both men lay sprawled on the ground, wincing in pain, helplessly exchanging glances.

“What’s wrong with these beasts today?”

Lu Chenzhou brushed dust off himself and looked up at the sky.

“White crows?”

Wei Shiqi followed his gaze.

“First time I’ve seen white crows. That’s ominous!”

Lu Chenzhou rolled his eyes. “You think you know everything.”

“If you want to know whether it’s ominous or not, ask Li Rong later. Now I know why the horses were spooked just now—it was because of those things.”

Frowning deeper, Lu Chenzhou watched the white crows fly by. Recently, strange incidents had occurred repeatedly in Nanjing City. The higher-ups pressured him to solve the case quickly. If not for his former father-in-law, the Ministry of Personnel’s Assistant Minister, whose influence still afforded him some protection, Lu Chenzhou’s position as the chief of the Vigilance Office would have been long lost. He realized he hadn’t visited the old man in half a month and decided to stop by to learn the Emperor’s stance on these matters.

Having lost their horses, the two trudged into the city parched and thirsty. Seeing a tea house by the roadside, Wei Shiqi plopped heavily onto a stool and called out, “Boss, two bowls of tea, quick!”

He then patted Lu Chenzhou’s shoulder teasingly. “Not bad, Brother Lu, didn’t expect you to have such stamina. You haven’t complained once on this hour-long walk.”

Lu Chenzhou smiled wryly. “Not complaining doesn’t mean I’m not tired. I really admire Shen Hua; she runs all over the city and beyond using only her own two legs.”

“Those who’ve roamed the jianghu for years naturally have lighter feet than us. They’re just used to it.”

“What a coincidence, Lord Lu.”

A soft voice came.

Lu Chenzhou looked up. Though veiled, he recognized from the voice and dress that it was Yanran from the Tianyun Pavilion.

“Oh? And who might this be?” Wei Shiqi asked, suppressing a laugh.

“Miss Yanran of the Tianyun Pavilion,” Lu Chenzhou introduced generously.

Yanran smiled and nodded demurely to Wei Shiqi.

Wei Shiqi nodded back.

Seeing Lu Chenzhou silent, Yanran whispered, “Since you two are busy, I won’t disturb you. Come visit Tianyun Pavilion to listen to some music when you have time.”

After Yanran left, Lu Chenzhou suddenly stood and hurried after her, whispering something in her ear before returning to the tea house.

Wei Shiqi teased, “Good eye.”

Lu Chenzhou ignored him, paid for the tea, and was about to leave when a familiar face appeared across the street.

“I’ve been searching all over the city for you, and you’re here drinking tea?”

It was Li Rong from the Astronomical Bureau, looking anxious as he grabbed Lu Chenzhou’s arm.

Noticing Wei Shiqi beside him, Li Rong asked, “And this is?”

Wei Shiqi bowed. “Captain Wei Shiqi of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.”

“Something big is about to happen.”

Li Rong clutched his chest and took a deep breath.

“What now?” Lu Chenzhou sighed.

Li Rong’s face was grim. “I went outside the city this morning and saw a flock of white crows. You may not know about white crows or have ever seen them. Their appearance is an extremely bad omen, especially for those who see them—they will face bloodshed.”

Lu Chenzhou and Wei Shiqi looked at each other, puzzled.

Wei Shiqi sighed. “We just came back from outside the city and saw those white crows too.”

Hearing this, Li Rong pounded the table. “It’s over, it’s over. Looks like this time, heads will really roll.”