When Pi Yanlin lifted the door curtain, the sound of dice tumbling in the gambling den slammed against his eardrums.
The smell of stale wine mixed with the sour stench of sweat hit him. He frowned, his gaze scanning the corner until it settled on a thin, tall man curled up like a shrimp—Liu Ergou. He was gnawing on half a piece of moldy steamed bread, his fingernails caked with black grime; it was the mark of someone who spent his days squatting under gambling tables to scavenge lost coins.
"Brother Liu." He tapped his money pouch onto the table. The crisp clink of copper coins made a few nearby gamblers look up.
Liu Ergou’s throat bobbed. The bread fell to the floor with a soft thud, and he scrambled up, brushing off the grease. "Pi... Brother Pi? Aren't you working at the Xuan'an Bureau?"
"A man still has to eat, doesn't he?" Pi Yanlin pulled over a long bench and sat down, spinning the money pouch on his fingertip. "Last time at the tea stall, I heard you mention the Zhao Estate being haunted, how those night owls kept crying at the base of the back wall..." He lowered his voice. "I love hearing about such eerie things. Another five coins if you can tell me the details of those night owls."
Liu Ergou’s eyes lit up like a starving dog spotting a meat bone.
He leaned in, his sleeve slipping to reveal the corner of a purple-bruised gambling debt note. "You can't go telling anyone else! By the old locust tree at the east wall of the Zhao Estate, there's always a shadow flickering at midnight. Once, when I was hiding from debt collectors, I was crouching under that tree and saw a man in a blue cloth shirt. He was clutching an iron box, buried it in the dirt at the foot of the wall, and left." He gulped. "The next day, I went to dig around and found a broken piece of an iron plate, carved with a phoenix-like pattern—"
*Clang.*
Pi Yanlin’s fingers froze on the knot of his money pouch. His heart skipped a beat. He thought of the broken piece of military tally in Gu Qinghuan’s possession, the charred "Zhenbei" characters on its edge, and the "disaster of war" that Granny Lin had predicted.
But he maintained a lazy smile. "That’s it? Five coins won't buy a story about squatting by a wall in the middle of the night."
Liu Ergou grew anxious, reaching for the pouch. "I also saw a blade tucked into the back of his blue shirt! The blade had patterns on it, like it had been struck by lightning!"
Pi Yanlin’s pupils contracted. This matched the thunder-patterned broken blade Gu Qinghuan had found in a hidden compartment at the Zhao Estate.
He nonchalantly pushed the money pouch across. "I’ll treat you to a bowl of mutton soup, too. Just tell me exactly where that iron box was buried."
Liu Ergou gripped the pouch so hard his fingers turned white, spilling the information like beans from a bamboo tube: "The third brick of the east wall, three feet down—" He suddenly went silent, staring at something behind Pi Yanlin.
Pi Yanlin knew who it was without turning around. The heels of Gu Qinghuan’s embroidered shoes clicked against the flagstones—a sound as crisp as tapping jade, mingled with the soft jingle of her dark iron waist badge.
He turned his face to meet her gaze, which was cold enough to freeze. "Constable Gu has quite the interest in my leisure time."
"Investigation requires a full stomach, doesn't it?" He shook the pouch in his hand. "Would the Constable like to join?"
Gu Qinghuan didn't answer. Her eyes swept over Liu Ergou’s trembling shoulders before landing back on Pi Yanlin.
She unhooked a piece of baked flatbread from her waist and tossed it to him. "Midnight, the back alley of the Zhao Estate." As she turned, her robes swept up a gust of wind, shaking the lanterns of the gambling den and stretching Liu Ergou’s shadow long across the floor.
Pi Yanlin rubbed the flatbread, smiling; it still carried the scent of sandalwood from Gu Qinghuan. He took a bite, his eyes resting on the drafty crack in the wall—the moonlight poured through it like a Silver Saber carving open the night.
The wind at midnight was heavy with dew.
Pi Yanlin huddled in a pile of grass in the Zhao Estate’s back alley, his back against the brick wall. A notification from the System exploded in his mind: *“Daily ‘lying flat’ check-in complete. Obtained: [Lie-Detecting Ears] (Can discern lies within a ten-mile radius; the truth sounds like a clear bell, a lie sounds like a broken gong).”*
He narrowed his eyes. Suddenly, a faint, rhythmic chiseling sound erupted in his ears, like a rat gnawing on a coffin lid, coming from deep underground.
"It’s at the east wall." He jumped up. His Trace-Seeking Eye scanned the base of the wall; the gaps between the bricks were stained with fresh soil, mixed with the smell of iron rust.
Just as he was about to move, there was a light click of roof tiles above. Gu Qinghuan’s silhouette swept by like a night owl, her dark iron dagger gleaming coldly in the moonlight.
The tunnel entrance was under the third brick of the east wall.
Gu Qinghuan’s dagger pried the brick loose, and a smell of mold mixed with the stench of blood wafted out. She looked back at Pi Yanlin, who was squatting by the wall, touching his ear. "There are three people inside. One is breathing like a broken bellows, one’s hand is shaking—" He suddenly arched a brow. "And one has been rubbing his blade against the scabbard three times."
Gu Qinghuan’s pupils constricted. She pressed down on Pi Yanlin’s shoulder. "You stay—"
"Constable Gu." Pi Yanlin interrupted her, tapping his ear. "My Lie-Detecting Ears are ringing; someone inside just said, ‘If there’s a new face, kill without mercy.’" He tugged at his crumpled servant’s uniform. "In this getup, do I look like a new face?"
Gu Qinghuan didn't speak, but she reached out and pulled him behind her.
The moment they crawled into the tunnel, the brick above clicked back into place, and darkness instantly swallowed the light.
Pi Yanlin’s Trace-Seeking Eye activated automatically. Pale blue dots wandered across the walls—fresh bloody handprints stretching from the bottom of the pit into the depths.
"Three to the left, five to the right," he whispered suddenly.
Gu Qinghuan’s dagger struck, the *ding* of metal against steel ringing out. A masked man’s grunt echoed in the tunnel. A second person lunged from the side, the wind of his blade grazing Gu Qinghuan’s neck.
"Weak stance," Pi Yanlin’s voice was like a needle. "His left foot isn't planted." Gu Qinghuan spun and kicked, her boot heel catching the man’s kneecap.
As the third blade came down from above, Pi Yanlin yanked her belt to the side. The edge of the blade grazed his hair and slammed into the earth wall, shaking dirt down upon them.
"Go!" Gu Qinghuan pulled him deeper into the tunnel, her dark iron dagger clearing the path.
After rounding three corners, the chiseling sound grew louder. A tallow lamp was embedded in the earth wall at the end of the tunnel, illuminating a wall covered in the Red Phoenix Pattern—the flames within the phoenix’s eyes flickered as if about to come alive.
"The royal emblem of the previous dynasty." Gu Qinghuan’s voice was tight; her fingers traced the pattern. "The Zhenbei Army protected this Red Phoenix back then."
"Constable Gu! Servant Pi!"
Judge Wei’s voice thundered from the tunnel entrance, the light of torches spilling through the gaps.
Gu Qinghuan quickly stuffed the broken military tally into her tunic. Pi Yanlin, however, stared at the freshly turned soil at the base of the wall—half an iron box was buried there, its exposed corner identical to what Liu Ergou had described.
"Judge Wei arrives at an opportune moment." Pi Yanlin yawned. "This tunnel leads outside the city; I fear there are smugglers here."
Judge Wei’s face flickered in the torchlight. He stared at the Red Phoenix Pattern on the wall, his throat bobbing. "Seal the scene! Everyone, follow me back to the yamen—Servant Pi, you stay."
Pi Yanlin watched Gu Qinghuan’s silhouette, stretched long by the torchlight, then glanced at the mound of dirt at the base of the wall.
As the System notification chimed once more, he touched his ear and smiled: "When Judge Wei said ‘seal the scene’ just now, the clear bell sound shattered."
The night wind, carrying the moldy scent of the tunnel, crept into his collar.
He looked at the dark iron tiger-patterned token swaying at Gu Qinghuan’s waist, thinking of the iron box Liu Ergou had mentioned and the flames dancing in the Red Phoenix’s eyes—this game had only just revealed a corner.