Chapter Twenty-Four: In Pomegranate Lane, the Lady Unfastens Her Silk Belt; Beyond the Warehouse, Iron Cavalry Encircles the City

The group moved through the darkness, the ones at the rear wearing ghastly masks, hopping and skipping as they went. A wooden chest rested on their shoulders, their arms dangling and swaying lifelessly, resembling scarecrows in a scene of eerie strangeness. Leading them was a hazy figure of a woman shrouded in white gauze, her bare feet strikingly visible even in the gloom—a beautiful foreign woman of alluring features.

Winding south from Cloudshadow Lane past Han Guang Lane, they turned eastward, traversed Rock Lane, and finally slipped into Pomegranate Alley, vanishing without a trace.

Jian’an, thirteenth year, the fifteenth day of the eighth month. Tian Si Warehouse, Pomegranate Alley.

At the hour of the Dog.

The coppery tang of blood still lingered in the warehouse; the main doors had been blasted to splinters by firearms and were now propped up with a plank. Black, viscous blood stained the floor. Seated calmly at the table was Mi Zige, with a delicate food box set before him.

“Second Sister, your methods are impressive indeed; your mastery of puppet magic is truly remarkable,” Mi Zige remarked with a smile, his gaze shifting to the four masked figures standing motionless in the doorway, their presence in the darkness as threatening as four serpents lying in wait.

Second Sister Qin covered her mouth with a coquettish laugh, swaying her graceful form as she opened the food box on the table. The box, small and exquisite, contained a world within. The top tier held a selection of fresh fruits and vegetables; the middle, several dishes both meat and vegetable; and at the bottom, a jug of freshly brewed rice wine from Jiangnan.

“You are most considerate, Second Sister.” Mi Zige picked a red fruit and offered it to the strange bird perched on his shoulder, which took the fruit and flew out of the warehouse.

Second Sister Qin poured herself a cup of wine and drank it in one go, a faint flush blossoming across her cheeks—the very picture of a beauty in her prime.

“Why only one set of dishes?” Mi Zige glanced at the table, noting there was but a single cup and a pair of white jade chopsticks.

Second Sister Qin brushed a strand of hair aside and, with a look brimming with charm, replied, “Let me serve you, my lord.”

The rice wine was still warm. Second Sister Qin took a mouthful and pressed her lips to Mi Zige’s, transferring the wine to him. He neither dodged nor resisted, his breath growing heavier as the thin fabric of her dress brushed against him, every sensation heightened.

“You little enchantress...” Mi Zige pulled Second Sister Qin into his arms.

Behind the lacquered screens, fragrant robes were loosened as lantern light flickered softly.

None can claim the heart is untouched when spring’s light spills so suddenly.

Mi Zige fastened his jade belt; a blush of crimson now stained Second Sister Qin’s plain dress.

“Second Sister, I didn’t expect you to be…” Mi Zige began with a laugh, leaving the sentence unfinished.

“You deserve a scolding.” Second Sister Qin’s face turned bashful as she gently struck him with her fair hand.

“It’s done. All we need is to place the Cold Garment Gu on the Spirit Guide, and everything will be settled. Then we can leave this place,” Mi Zige said, drawing her close.

“You wicked man.” Second Sister Qin buried her face against him, half complaining, half shy.

“I have some matters to attend to. Wait for me here, and I’ll take you away,” Mi Zige whispered.

Second Sister Qin suddenly pulled away, pouting as she looked at him. “Don’t lie to me.”

Solemnly, Mi Zige replied, “I swear by my three lives—should I betray you in this one, may I fall into eternal damnation.”

Only then did joy return to Second Sister Qin’s lovely face.

Mi Zige leaned down and kissed her forehead, then left the warehouse, the strange bird swiftly returning to his shoulder.

Inside, Second Sister Qin straightened her disheveled clothes, the blush beneath her skirts spreading deeper. She felt a discomfort with each step, so unlike the ease she’d felt in the throes of passion.

She opened the wooden chest; inside lay Su Jin, unconscious.

From a small box left by Zhao Nu, she took out a Gu worm, the Cold Garment Gu, its body a frosty blue as it lay there quietly.

Second Sister Qin eyed the Gu with a mix of fear and awe. Suddenly, as if sensing something, the Cold Garment Gu shuddered.

Then, like a jellyfish drifting through the depths, it floated into the air and settled gently upon Su Jin’s face.

In an instant, icy blue light burst forth with tremendous power. Even channeling all her inner energy, Second Sister Qin could not withstand it and had to retreat beyond the reach of the radiance, summoning the four masked puppets to guard her before she felt somewhat secure.

Fortunately, within half a stick of incense, the light faded, seeping into Su Jin’s body. On the right half of Su Jin’s face, a pattern of icy blue porcelain cracks had appeared.

“So it is you after all,” Second Sister Qin murmured.

...

Atop the watchtower in the Western Market, the enigmatic Military Marquis in black observed several shadows darting among the market lanes, their garments trailing like phantoms, nearly too swift to follow.

Clattering hooves thundered past the porcelain shop, swept down Mushan Street, and made directly for Pomegranate Alley.

Foreign merchants at the night market reined in their colorfully decorated ox carts, lowering themselves to the roadside as the glint of iron and ice flashed in the moonlight. These were not the constables of the Six Gates seen days before.

They were the elite Northern Frontier Army.

Western Market, Tian Si Warehouse, Pomegranate Alley.

At the hour of the Boar, just after dusk.

“I never imagined these Turks would have such courage,” said Qi Jingmo, the Star Chaser, striding towards the warehouse.

“The most dangerous place is often the safest,” replied Flower Banxia, the Smoker, casting a sidelong glance at the warehouse.

This time, they had no intention of storming in; with the Northern Frontier Army involved, no one could hope to escape their heavy armor, especially with their weapon—the Martial Execution Crossbow—designed to counter sorcerers.

When the Martial Execution Crossbow is unleashed, all below Heaven’s rank are but ants.

“Remember, the most important thing is to ensure Su Jin’s safety,” Jiang Wanyi said quietly, drawing her sword with practiced calm.

She was leading the operation.

Jiang Wanyi and her two companions advanced toward the warehouse when two black shadows suddenly leapt out.

“Oh? Seems Tang Yi’s information was accurate. We’ve found the right place,” Qi Jingmo said, recognizing the masked figures as the ones seen beneath the overpass in Cloudshadow Lane.

“Your turn?” Flower Banxia exhaled a plume of smoke, pointing his white jade pipe toward the masked figures.

“Everything is under control,” Qi Jingmo replied, donning his black-gold gauntlets as he moved to meet them.

The masked figures advanced in silence, crossing their curved blades and attacking Qi Jingmo from above and below.

Any ordinary fighter would have fallen to such a strike, but as one of the Four Great Constables of the Six Gates, Qi Jingmo’s strength was formidable.

Third Rank Martial Artist, the Star Chaser.

The black-gold gauntlets blocked the blades. With a sharp metallic crack, both weapons shattered in their wielders’ hands.

The masked figures discarded the hilts, flanking Qi Jingmo on either side.

Qi Jingmo’s face lit up; close combat was his specialty.

“Take this!” His hands became claws as he struck at one figure's chest with the ferocity of a tiger.

Ordinarily, such a blow would have shattered bone and body, but as his hand struck, Qi Jingmo realized something was wrong—his claws had sunk into the figure’s body, and as he withdrew, he found only a handful of straw.

He stepped back, warily eyeing the masked figures.

They were not human at all.

Jiang Wanyi, perceiving the truth, warned her companions, “Careful, this is puppet magic.”