The stench of decay from the mass grave could be smelled three blocks away. When Jiang Songyi, clambering into the gambling den's darkroom in her deerskin boots, Gu Zheyuan was fiddling with a blood-jeweled ring. The gold threads of his Dongchang dragon robe shone in the dim candlelight like a venomous snake, making his features appear even more feminine.
"My benefactor's voice." He suddenly chuckled, his fingertips tracing the scar on his throat. "It's even better than the girls in the Music Bureau."
Jiang Songyi took off her black veiled hat, revealing her deliberately thickened eyebrows: "Did the factory manager look carefully when he performed the autopsy? Yue Qingyang should have had a flame-shaped birthmark on his lower back." The voice was like the cry of an oriole breaking the spring ice, startling the dust off the beams.
Gu Zheyuan's pupils suddenly shrank, and the wide sleeves of his python robe swept the dice cup off the table: "The county lady is familiar with his body." The white jade dice rolled to Jiang Songyi's feet, and the three dots of cinnabar looked like bloodstains on the wall of the imperial prison.
"After all." She crushed the dice, the cinnabar powder staining her fingertips red. "In my previous life, when he peeled my skin and pulled out my tendons, I saw it clearly."
The dark room suddenly fell silent. The Buddhist beads on Gu Zheyuan's wrist suddenly broke, and the sandalwood beads rolled into the cracks between the tiles. He remembered that three days ago in the mass grave, the rotting corpse had indeed had a flame mark on its waist, but...
"If you would like to examine it, benefactor," he said, suddenly leaning in closer, the stench of ambergris mixed with the corpse's stench overwhelming him. "Should I have someone dig it up right now?"
Jiang Songyi pulled out the short blade from his waist, and a cold light flashed between them. "No need, I want his left pinky finger." The blade reflected the blood in her eyes. "That knuckle was pierced by a sharp arrow, and there should be cracks in the bone."
The iron horses on the eaves suddenly clanked and a torrential downpour began. Gu Zheyuan stared at the pearl in her hair, suddenly remembering the day when the prince braved the rain to deliver a hundred thousand taels of silver, the pearl's gleam was just as cold.
"What a coincidence." He clapped his hands three times, and the servant came in with the ebony box. "The finger bone is right here."
The moment Jiang Songyi opened the lid of the box, a foul odor mixed with the scent of lime assaulted her nose. Sure enough, there was a hairline crack on the third joint of her bony pinky finger, an exact replica of the scar she had counted a thousand times in her previous life in the cage.
"Good! Good! Good!" She suddenly laughed, tears streaming down her face. "One hundred thousand taels for just one of his fingers is worth it!"
Thunder split the night sky. Gu Zheyuan looked at the woman's crazy appearance and suddenly felt that this rainy night was particularly cold.
…
In the East Factory's duty room, smoke curled from the inlaid gold and Boshan furnace. Gu Zheyuan reclined in a huanghuali wood armchair, his fingertips twirling a string of coral Buddhist beads. The blood-red beads made the bones of his wrists seem even paler.
"I'm sorry to have you wear these filthy clothes." He pushed the indigo eunuch's robe to the table. When the wide sleeves slipped down, they revealed the hideous old scars on his forearms. "After all, we are eunuchs."
"Just enough clothes to cover your body." Jiang Songyi swiftly picked up the clothes and moved behind the screen. The bronze mirror reflected her figure, bound in a corset and waist, the rouge mole on her throat moving up and down as she swallowed. Suddenly, a chuckle could be heard from outside: "What if it's a half-male, half-female demon?"
The hand holding the tie suddenly tightened. Jiang Songyi stared at the young man with sharp eyebrows and bright eyes in the mirror, and suddenly lifted the curtain and came out: "The factory owner has a good eye."
Gu Zheyuan, toying with a gilded sachet, glanced up at the young man. He wore a rather loose-fitting yisha, his neck slender as a crane's. His voice was a clear, female one. His eyes grew intrigued. "This appearance reminds me of the double-bodied Buddha from the previous dynasty."
"Buddha says that all beings are equal." Jiang Songyi straightened his black hat, the black hatband dangling at his ears. "If the factory manager thinks it's unlucky, I'll change it back."
"No need." Gu Zheyuan suddenly approached, the scent of ambergris mixed with blood hitting his face. Jiang Songyi took a half step back, his back pressed against the cool rosewood screen. He saw the pale hand brushing across his collar: "The crown is crooked."
His fingertips brushed against Jiang Songyi's Adam's apple, and she tensed. But then he took two steps back and leisurely pushed open the carved door. "Let's go, my benefactor."
In the twilight, the East Depot Yamen resembled a dormant beast. The copper nails on the vermilion-lacquered gate stained bloody rust, and the iron grilles on the eaves whimpered in the wind. As Jiang Songyi crossed the threshold, a chill ran down his spine—a bloody, mangled figure knelt before the screen wall, its resentment condensing into a black mist that clung to his Feiyu uniform.
"Are you scared?" Gu Zheyuan twirled the Buddhist beads between his fingers rapidly, a sneer on his lips. "The prisoner sent here by the Jinyiwei last month cursed our family for a bad death before biting his tongue."
Jiang Songyi stared at the gray figure lying on the man's shoulder: "The resentful spirit is devouring the body. Can you hear the factory owner crying at night?"
"Cry?" Gu Zheyuan suddenly grabbed her by the back of the neck and dragged her to the torture chamber. "All we can hear is the sizzling sound of burning flesh." The torture instruments hanging on the iron hooks clanked. He casually picked up the branding iron and pressed it into the charcoal basin. "Just like this—"
As sparks crackled and exploded, a crow suddenly cried outside the window. Jiang Songyi glimpsed several dark shadows darting across the beams, the yellow talisman in his sleeve glowing slightly. These vengeful spirits cowered, not daring to approach within three feet of Gu Zheyuan.
"Yuantong the Bald Monk held a 49-day water and land ritual in the Palace of Heavenly Purity." Gu Zheyuan suddenly threw the branding iron back into the fire, splashing a pool of crimson. "Now the capital is full of charlatans, and your benefactor wants a piece of the action too?"
Jiang Songyi brushed off the sparks from her clothes and asked, "Does the factory owner trust me to make these resentful spirits quiet down tonight?"
"With your half-baked double-bodied Buddha?" Gu Zheyuan chuckled, slamming his Buddhist beads on the table. "Why don't you exorcise the evil spirits yourself first?" He suddenly leaned close to her ear, "You little liar disguised as a man."
A chilling wind suddenly blew up from the dungeon, causing the candlelight to flicker. Jiang Songyi looked into the crimson bloodshot eyes and suddenly smiled, "The factory manager's forehead is black. Within three days, there will be a bloody disaster."
"Oh?" Gu Zheyuan touched her Adam's apple with his fingertips, "How about we make a bet? If our family is safe and sound in three days." The last syllable disappeared in the sudden sound of the copper bell. His face suddenly changed, and he drew out the Embroidered Spring Sword and slashed at the void!
Amidst the smoke rising from the burning talisman paper, Jiang Songyi stood there, chanting his incantations: "The resentment has taken form. Does the factory owner believe it now?"
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