“You’re saying… the contents of this vial have lost their effect?”
In the inner chamber of the Marquis Xianan’s side room, Mr. He accepted the porcelain vial that Ruan Hongjiao handed over.
“This servant doesn’t know what happened,” Ruan Hongjiao said anxiously. “Thankfully, Niang Niang reminded me to test it after returning. Just before leaving, I tried it on a chicken—and it had no effect! That’s why I rushed here to see you. No matter what, we mustn’t spoil Niang Niang’s plan!”
Mr. He opened the stopper, fanned it lightly toward his nose. The characteristic fishy odor of snake venom was barely detectable. A glint of understanding flickered in his eyes. Calmly, he said, “Perhaps the weather was too warm, and it spoiled. No matter—I’ll prepare a fresh batch for you now. It will keep at least until tomorrow.”
He rose and pulled a rattan chest from the wardrobe, setting it on the table.
Curious, Ruan Hongjiao moved closer to look.
Mr. He smiled faintly, making no move to stop her. He unlocked the chest and lifted the lid—
Inside, a brilliantly colored snake coiled upright, hissing with its crimson tongue flickering. Though not large, it looked sinister: its scarlet body was banded with white rings. Its shape resembled a krait, but whereas kraits are black-striped, this one’s base color was blood-red, and on its head grew a fleshy crest like a rooster’s comb. Who knew whether it was a natural mutation or a bred variety.
Ruan Hongjiao shrieked, “A snake!” Her legs gave out and she collapsed against Mr. He.
He steadied her waist with a smile. “No need to be afraid. Huan’er is quite intelligent. With me here, it won’t bite you.”
Ruan Hongjiao’s face went pale, her eyes filling with tears—pitiful as a pear blossom in the rain. Trembling, she said, “When I was young, I was nearly bitten by a viper. I truly can’t bear it… I must step outside a moment.”
Shaking, she rushed into the outer room and flung the door open—only for a gust of stormy, rain-laden wind to blast in, lightning and thunder crashing. Sheets of rain lashed the earth, torrents streaming from the eaves.
Splashed head to toe, Ruan Hongjiao gave another cry and instinctively slammed the door shut, leaning back against it, gasping for breath.
“My makeup’s been ruined by the rain.” She raised her sleeve to shield her face, embarrassed. “I can’t possibly carry out Niang Niang’s task looking like this… Does sir have a mirror? Might I borrow it to touch up?”
On the table beside the bed in the inner chamber stood a large mirror, for grooming and attire.
Mr. He said gently, “Of course. Please, madam, make yourself at home.”
A woman’s toilette was a private affair, not for strange men to behold. With courtesy, Mr. He picked up the rattan chest and carried it into the outer room, leaving her space.
Ruan Hongjiao thanked him, carefully circling wide around the chest, and entered the inner chamber. She sat at the table, setting out her powder box, rouge pot, and other cosmetics.
She gazed into the mirror—her face white as paper, yet her eyes burning like fire—and drew in a deep breath.
In the outer room, Mr. He reached into the chest and lifted the snake. With two fingers, he pressed gently at the corners of its mouth. The snake opened wide, revealing curved, sharp fangs like white jade hooks, glinting coldly under the lamplight.
From the inner chamber came faint sounds, the soft clink of bottles and jars as though she were applying makeup. Mr. He lowered his eyes to the snake, smiling as he fitted its fangs against the thin membrane at the mouth of a bamboo tube.
Meanwhile, Ruan Hongjiao held a rouge pot in her left hand, tapping the porcelain lid with her thumb to make crisp noises, while her other hand moved stealthily, searching the room. The storm outside muffled her faint movements.
Cabinets, drawers, bookshelves, hidden spaces by the bed’s head and foot—she swiftly searched several likely hiding spots, but found nothing.
The excuse of “touching up her makeup” could not last long. Once Mr. He finished extracting venom, he could walk in at any moment. Her heart pounded with urgency, sweat beading at her temples.
She turned once more, scanning the chamber. Suddenly her eyes stopped on a chest beside the qin table.
It sat there in plain sight, with an incense burner pressed on top as if to weigh it down. But the brass hinges connecting lid and body gleamed brightly—clearly, it was often opened.
Ah, darkness under the lamp! Ruan Hongjiao’s eyes lit up. She moved the incense burner aside and opened the unlocked chest.
Inside the box lay a neat stack of items. At first glance, Ruan Hongjiao saw the phoenix-and-luan necklace and Buddhist scriptures with painted images that Consort Wei had given. Digging further, there was also a blood scripture written in Sanskrit, and a copied version of the The Lament for My Late Mother.
Ruan Hongjiao had no time to wonder why Mister He would keep a sacrificial text written by the Crown Prince himself. She quickly flipped to the very bottom of the box and drew out a strange piece of iron.
The iron piece was curved downward on both sides like roof tiles, about a foot long and five to six inches wide. On its surface was inlaid row upon row of neat golden characters in regular script. Perhaps because of age, much of the gold lacquer had flaked off, but the writing was still faintly legible.
Ruan Hongjiao brought the iron piece close to the lamp, carefully parsing the words: “…Followed the dragon in founding the realm, rendered service to the state. The subject is pardoned nine deaths, descendants three deaths…”
What was this?
“This is a golden book iron charter,” said a voice by her ear, low and ghostly.
Startled, Ruan Hongjiao dropped the iron plate.
Mister He caught it before it hit the ground and placed it back into her hands. “No harm done. Madam, please continue reading.”
Looking at the crimson-crowned banded snake coiled around Mister He’s wrist, its tongue flicking, Ruan Hongjiao’s breathing grew rapid, her clothes soaked with sweat.
Mister He guided her fingers across the iron charter, explaining patiently: “Here… the leader of the Void Sect, Wen Xiang, this charter was bestowed upon him… and here, it lists his merits: rallying his sect’s followers to support Emperor Taizu as the enlightened ruler amid chaos, then following the army to suppress the unjust former dynasty, thus earning merit in founding the state. ‘The subject is pardoned nine deaths, descendants three deaths’ means his own nine death sentences could be excused, and his descendants three times. But once the pardon is used, his rank and stipend are stripped, no honors remain—only this charter to exchange for life.”
“This is what common folk call the ‘immunity medallion’.” Mister He’s voice was gentle, and under the lamplight, his white silk robes seemed haloed in holy radiance, making his handsome young face appear almost otherworldly.
Yet the words he spoke reeked of old blood: “The emperor’s golden words could not be retracted, so he devised another way—after the army captured Wen Xiang, he ordered nine cuts made, each one missing the vital points, each cut counting as one death excused. The tenth cut severed his throat, ending this so-called mercy, no different from lingering torture.”
Ruan Hongjiao shivered all over, asking hoarsely: “You are…”
“Shh.” Mister He pressed a finger to her lips. “I have kept this iron charter for many years. I will not let the court discover it—for if it is found, it will be destroyed, and the hatreds and entanglements within would vanish without trace.”
With the serpent’s maw so near her face, Ruan Hongjiao could scarcely breathe, but still forced herself to ask: “What is your connection to the Void Sect?”
“I am the former leader’s final disciple,” Mister He said slowly, “his only one.”
Ruan Hongjiao did not know what grudges existed between the sect and the court. She only knew that Emperor Taizu had banned the sect in the founding years, so she asked: “Then you are the current sect master? Does the Void Sect bring calamity to the realm only to take revenge on the court?”
Mister He smiled. “The world has long misunderstood me. It seems you are no exception… but no matter. When you grasp the truth of life’s impermanence, you will naturally be enlightened.”
Life’s impermanence—how to grasp it? By dying? And then enlightenment? Ruan Hongjiao shook her head in horror.
Mister He replaced the iron charter in the box, then slid his hand inside her bodice.
In despair, Ruan Hongjiao’s eyes flashed with defiance. She turned and wrapped her arms around Mister He’s neck, speaking in a honeyed voice: “I don’t want enlightenment. I’d rather stay muddled and ignorant, and seize pleasure while it lasts—”
“Form is not different from void; void is not different from form. All dharmas are of the same essence: void by nature.” Mister He spoke like a teacher, even as his fingers drew out from her chest a sachet worn against her skin.
He snapped the cord, pulled out a folded slip of paper, unfolded and glanced at it, then laughed softly: “All the world scorns courtesans as cheap, bought easily with coin. But Su Qinghe is far shrewder than most—what he trades is not money, but feeling. That way, he makes you utterly devoted, ready to follow him through fire and blade… What a remarkable man! The more I think, the more I wish to play a few more rounds of chess with him.”
Lord Su is not as you say—don’t measure others by your own heart! Ruan Hongjiao longed to cry out, but suddenly felt only disdain. She knew she would not escape alive today. Fear gave way to calm. She took the slip from Mister He’s hand, returned it to the sachet, and clutched it tightly in her palm.
“Do it, then,” she said coldly.
Mister He looked at her with appreciation, nodding. “I will chant for you, grant you passage, so you may return swiftly to the homeland of True Emptiness.”
He flicked his fingers. The crimson-crowned banded snake reared its neck, baring fangs.
The roof suddenly split open, tiles crashing down as two streaks of cold light descended from the sky—one striking straight at Mister He, the other at the venomous snake before Ruan Hongjiao.
She stumbled back in terror. The cold light brushed past her cheek, severing the snake’s neck.
But a snake does not die at once. Its body coiled and dropped, yet its head lunged forward with inertia, sinking its fangs viciously into the side of her jaw.
Ruan Hongjiao screamed, clawing at the head to rip it free. But her flesh was hooked on the fangs, tearing loose with a sickening snag. The next streak of light swept in, slicing away the patch of skin along with the snake’s head, flinging both aside.
Blood gushed instantly. Clutching the torn side of her lower jaw, Ruan Hongjiao clenched her teeth, uttering not another cry of pain.
Agony burst across her scalp, tears flooding her eyes. Through the blur she saw figures whirling inside the room, cold gleams and Mister He’s white robes tangled in combat.
Her vision darkened further. Desperate, she groped for the box, finally found it, and clutched it tight to her chest. Then the darkness swallowed all, and she fainted away.
—
The silent midnight streets were shattered by the thunder of galloping hooves.
Su Yan led a squad of imperial guards, crashing with the storm through the gates of the Disaster Relief Bureau. He shouted: “I am Su Yan, Shidu of the Eastern Palace. I request audience with His Highness the Crown Prince!”
The crown prince’s guards had been sheltering from the rain beneath the eaves. Startled by the sudden intrusion, they raised weapons to encircle the intruders—but froze upon hearing the name. Their leader, recognizing Su Yan, wiped water from his face, peering through the curtain of rain: “It is indeed Lord Su! My lord, why come with a troop in the middle of the night, so urgently to seek the young master?”
Su Yan swung down from his horse, rainwater running off the brim of his cloak’s hood. He strode forward. “Commander Wei, I have urgent business with the young master. Please announce me.”
Commander Wei replied, “No need to announce. The young master already instructed: if Lord Su seeks audience, he may be admitted anytime, anywhere.”
“Where is the young master now?”
“In the back courtyard storeroom, going through documents related to the grain relief embezzlement case.”
“Hurry, take me there!” Su Yan urged, rushing up the steps.
