Chapter Eight: In the Next Life, Let Me Be Reborn in China

Baili Feihong tossed the dagger into the well.

Splash!

A head rose slowly from the bottom of the well, carried upward by the spring water.

Ji Xiaoqian clutched the dagger in her hand, her cheeks puffed in indignation as she glared at Baili Feihong.

"You rotten man, were you trying to kill me?"

"This is the murder weapon. Hide it well. By the way, I killed Fuxiang," Baili Feihong said, then turned back into the house, changed his clothes, and threw the old ones into the well as well.

"Deal with these clothes, too. Remember, don't let anyone find them."

"Oh, oh!" Ji Xiaoqian snapped out of her daze.

Two tears traced down her cheeks.

Baili Feihong was startled, realizing those were not marks from the water, but ghost tears—deep blue, shimmering.

Ji Xiaoqian gave him a complicated look, searing his face into her memory, then slipped beneath the surface with the dagger and the clothes.

She flowed through the hidden channels of the well, carried by the water, returning to the dark river below.

This underground river linked to Binhe, and from there stretched out to the depths of the sea.

Ji Xiaoqian had been swept into the river by the ocean’s current.

She looked at the ancient chest.

The wooden box was rotten and falling apart.

She gazed at the scattered gold, silver, and jewels littering the ground, crouched down, gathered them up, and swallowed them.

Then she returned to the well.

"Thank you, Mr. Baili," the ghost in white emerged from the well, bowed deeply, and expressed her gratitude.

"No need to thank me. I just did what I was paid to do," Baili Feihong waved her off.

"Still, I am truly grateful, Mr. Baili," the ghost in white smiled through tears as she looked at him.

Baili Feihong felt uneasy under her gaze.

This foolish girl isn't planning to offer herself to me, is she? Even if you have certain advantages, you are not my type. I couldn't accept even if I wanted to.

The ghost in white bent over, opened her mouth wide, and vomited.

Gold, jewels, and jade poured out in a torrent.

Baili Feihong’s brows rose in surprise—so much treasure?

"I have nothing else to offer, so I give you wealth," Ji Xiaoqian glowed with a faint light.

Tiny sparks floated from her form, like fireflies.

"Mr. Baili, before I leave, I wish to tell you something important. If you have the chance, leave Dongbin at once. This city is strange, as if it is the execution ground of some unfathomable demon."

"Xiaoqian, I can never leave," she said.

"But I have no more regrets. Staying in the world, with a hideous face, only frightens people and leaves a bad impression," Ji Xiaoqian transformed into specks of light, drifting away like mist.

"Wait, don’t go!"

"I’m not leaving; I will remain on this land forever," only her echo lingered.

Her heart was finally at peace, free of obsession.

If not for the interference of mysterious powers, she could have reincarnated and been born anew.

But now, she could only fade away completely if she did not wish to linger in the mortal world.

Perhaps it was for the best—she wouldn’t frighten Mr. Baili anymore.

"Dead? The ghost has vanished!"

Baili Feihong felt no joy.

In these days, he had sensed the innocence in Ji Xiaoqian’s heart.

If she hadn't been born into poverty and sold young to the Red Joy House, her life might have been beautiful.

"Self-destruction? Even with her obsession resolved, she cannot reincarnate?" Baili Feihong muttered.

In her whole life, she was rarely able to choose her own path.

Only twice did she have the power to decide—and both times, she died.

"I would rather believe you have another life. If you could reincarnate..."

Baili Feihong looked up at the sky. The moon and stars hung sparse above, and somewhere in the darkness, invisible hands arranged everything.

"Remember, if you are reborn, go to Earth, to Huaxia."

"There, paradise awaits."

Compared to this era, that is truly paradise.

Dawn had not yet broken.

The old servant rose as usual at the appointed hour, bustling about.

As he entered the inner courtyard, he saw a maid lying in a pool of blood. Her eyes were wide open, lips trembling, legs weak—he collapsed to the ground.

"Someone's dead!"

Inspector Zhang Jingzhong reluctantly crawled out from beneath his warm covers.

His wife, beautiful as a flower and as precious as jade, rolled over in dissatisfaction. Her snow-white back and peach-shaped hips were irresistibly alluring.

Zhang Jingzhong swallowed hard, rubbed his aching waist, suppressed the heat rising in his belly, collected his thoughts, and reluctantly tore his gaze away.

He walked to the door, stopped, leaned against the wall, panting.

"This won’t do. Tonight I must have the steward stew chicken soup with my hundred-year-old ginseng to restore my strength. My body grows weaker with each passing year; I must diligently practice martial arts to regain my vitality, or else my lovely wives will fall into the hands of some wretched bastard," Zhang Jingzhong mused.

It was no lie.

Wealth and glory, a house full of beautiful wives—what torment if one cannot enjoy them.

"Lu Jingxian, you little rascal, getting bold! Is it dawn yet? You dare wake me up—be careful, your end-of-year bonus will be docked," Zhang Jingzhong vented his morning grumpiness at Constable Lu Jingxian, who waited respectfully.

"Sir, my inspector, something terrible has happened."

Lu Jingxian’s face was anxious.

"Monsters on the loose?" Zhang Jingzhong instinctively stepped back, heel knocking against the threshold, nearly falling.

"Careful, sir," Lu Jingxian hurried forward.

"Stop," Zhang Jingzhong steadied himself, blocking Lu Jingxian’s advance.

He glanced back at the bed—his wife lay naked. If this rascal saw, he’d suffer a huge loss.

Thinking thus, Zhang Jingzhong closed the door and walked with hands behind his back.

In truth, he pressed his hand to his waist, secretly massaging the sore spot.

"Speak."

"Lady Zhang has been murdered," Lu Jingxian whispered as he drew near.

"Which Lady Zhang has you so flustered?"

A servant brought ginseng tea just then. Zhang Jingzhong took it, sipped, and rinsed his mouth.

"Lady Huang Yuxuan, wife of Zhang, master of the Canal Transport Guild."

Pfft—

Zhang Jingzhong spat his tea.

"What, Fuxiang...I mean, Lady Zhang has been murdered?"

"Yes, sir. Four lives are involved, and Zhang’s reputation too. The news is sealed, and the chief wants you to solve the case quickly."

Lu Jingxian bent and whispered in Zhang Jingzhong’s ear, "Lady Zhang and Zhang Anhua were together when someone stabbed her through the heart from behind. The brothers arrived and sealed off the crime scene. But somehow, the Canal Transport Guild got wind of it; Zhang Fu is already at the scene, witnessing the carnage..."

"That turtle, it’s retribution," Inspector Zhang Jingzhong said bitterly.

Lu Jingxian said nothing.

It was rumored that when the inspector was young, he was infatuated with Fuxiang of the Red Joy House.

Back then, he wasn’t yet an inspector, just a lowly constable—his rank even lower than Lu Jingxian’s.

He could only watch as Zhang Fu redeemed Fuxiang.

And how did Lu Jingxian know? He had a restless father.

His father had been a fan of another courtesan at the Red Joy House.

For a whiff of her fragrance, he even sold their old house just to spend time with her.

Zhang Jingzhong’s cursing of Zhang Fu was nothing strange.

"Let’s go. We mustn’t keep Master Zhang waiting," Zhang Jingzhong led the way out, moving swiftly, boarded the carriage, and sped toward Suzaku Street in the southern part of the city.