Chapter 1 Murder
In a large underground gambling house, dozens of gambling tables were surrounded by people. The sounds of dice colliding, silver coins clinking, and hysterical shouting came one after another.
The air was filled with the odor of sweat, alcohol, and cosmetics. The scene was dirty and messy, but it still couldn't stop the gamblers' enthusiasm.
"Big! Big! Big!"
"Open! Four, five, six, fifteen big!"
A cheer erupted from the central gambling table. A fat man dressed in brocade clothes almost lay on the table, holding the silver and money he won in his arms with both hands, his eyes flashing with morbid excitement.
Another round began. The dealer rattled the dice cup and slammed it down on the table. "Buy and leave!"
The man in fancy clothes placed his bet again, placing all the money he had just won on "big". He rubbed his short and fat hands together, staring at the dice cup, just waiting for "big" to come out so that the pile of money would turn over.
Everyone's attention was focused on the dice cup.
"Big! Big--"
The loudest shouts suddenly stopped. The people at the table were confused and turned around to see a horrific scene.
The man in fancy clothes widened his already small eyes, which were full of disbelief, and a three-foot-long knife with a cold glow was stuck in his neck, piercing through the back of his neck.
His mouth was still in the shape of shouting, and he moved as if he wanted to say something, but only a mouthful of blood gushed out.
The air at this table seemed to be still, only the surroundings, unaware of the noise, were still making noise.
Suddenly, the bloody knife spun, and a head fell onto the table, rolling several times. Blood spurted out from the bowl-sized wound, splashing all over the face of the skinny man who was standing nearby.
He touched his face dully, and the sticky, warm liquid startled him, followed by a sharp explosion.
“Ahhhhh!!!”
The noise was quite loud, spreading and echoing in the enclosed space. Screams were heard one after another, and everyone fled in all directions, creating a chaotic scene.
Soon, the gambling house that was once crowded with people was left with only a mess on the ground, a dismembered body, and a man in black wearing a black robe and a mask, holding a knife.
The strange patterns on the mask looked particularly ferocious under the light. He swung the long sword in his hand with a sharp, flowery motion, wiped the blood from it, and sheathed it. His movements were smooth and flowing, and a black iron token at his waist swung with it, with the word "Xi" engraved on it.
The man in black took out a piece of black cloth, wrapped the head skillfully, and walked away.
…
At daybreak, an elderly woman stopped by a pancake stand on the street and asked, "How much are the pancakes?"
"Three cents each," Du Huaizhi said without looking up, fiddling with her flatbread. She looked about seventeen or eighteen years old, wearing a light-colored coarse cloth dress, her black hair tied in a simple bun with an old-fashioned wooden hairpin stuck in it.
"Come one." said the old lady.
Du Huaizhi responded, stuffed a few pieces of charcoal into the stove, wiped his hands on the rag hanging beside him, skillfully brushed a layer of oil on the flat iron pan, picked up a pancake and put it on it. The pancake surface made a sizzling sound when it touched the iron pan.
The old lady stared at her again and again: "Why are you setting up a stall alone, girl? Where are your parents at home?" It is rare for a girl of this age to show herself in public like this.
"All gone." Du Huaizhi replied lightly, as if talking about today's weather.
The old lady choked. When she said that, she automatically understood that the little girl was alone and had no choice but to come out to make a living. She awkwardly changed the subject: "Four more."
Du Huaizhi nodded, and caught a glimpse of a team of yamen runners carrying a stretcher passing by the market. The stretcher was covered with a white cloth, and under the cloth was the outline of a person with a dent, which was obviously a headless corpse.
"Who is this dead person?"
"Who else could it be? The magistrate's treasure." His tone was a bit sarcastic.
"It's him, bah! It's better for him to die, it's karma!"
"Shh... keep your voice down..."
The sounds of discussion around him reached his ears, and Du Huaizhi's mouth corners rose slightly.
"Son—why did you abandon me and go away, my son?"
Inside the government courtyard, the plump and beautiful county magistrate, dressed in tight and gorgeous clothes, was crying bitterly while holding the headless corpse.
The housekeeper standing by wiped his tears with his sleeve, said words of comfort, and handed the only silk handkerchief in his sleeve to the magistrate.
The magistrate cried for a long time, his tears and snot soaking the handkerchief thoroughly. He stuffed it back to the housekeeper with the silver thread still tied to it. "Who... who did it!" The magistrate clung to the edge of the stretcher, trying to open his narrowed eyes wide and asked angrily, "How dare you kill my son on my own territory! Where are your men? Are they all just there to eat and do nothing?!"
The housekeeper threw the handkerchief to the ground in disdain and explained, "The thief's martial arts skills were extremely strong. When someone reported him to the authorities and the government sent people to look for him, they couldn't find any trace of him. There's a reliable source saying..."
The housekeeper leaned close to the magistrate and whispered something in his ear.
"A bunch of trash! All of them are trash!!" The magistrate's face turned from rage to helpless grief and indignation, and he slumped to the ground. "I only have this one son..." As he spoke, he cried again.
"Master, don't worry." The housekeeper knelt beside him and said, "We in the government office can't do anything, but the people above us can. That group was originally just an organized gang of thugs, but in recent years they have grown stronger. They use the excuse of taking money to do things to kill and rob people, committing all kinds of evil. They have committed murders everywhere. The people above us have long been fed up with it and have sent people to investigate openly and secretly. They sent people here to investigate the murder case in Lin County a few days ago. I sent someone to invite them before dawn this morning."
The magistrate's small eyes lit up. "Where is that man now?"
"I guess it's on the way."
After the working hours, there were fewer people. Du Huaizhi stood there for a long time but no one came. He was about to sit down to rest his feet, but before his butt even touched the stool, someone came to the stall.
"How much bread is left?"
The man who came was a young man dressed as a ranger, carrying a long sword on his back. He had a handsome appearance and his skin was a healthy wheat color due to years of being outdoors.
There was a faint smell of blood around this man, and he could smell it as soon as he approached Du Huaizhi. In today's world, martial arts are highly valued, and there are many self-proclaimed knights like him, so they are quite common.
Du Huaizhi lifted the cloth cover of the basket and took a look. "Thirteen."
"I want them all." Without hesitation, the young man took out his purse. The purse was worn out, with a few dark red dots printed on it.
Du Huaizhi couldn't help but look at him again. The young man also realized that something was wrong and hurriedly explained: "We just met a group of thieves on the road..."
As to whether this was true or not, Du Huaizhi had no way of knowing.
"Do they all need to be fried?" Du Huaizhi asked. The pancakes are pounded out of cooked glutinous rice and are already cooked food. After cooling, they become cold and hard and can be stored for up to a month.
This kind of cake is a common dry food for farmers and merchants who go out. When they are hungry, they can just throw it into the fire and it will be ready in a short time. Frying it in oil is just one way to eat it.
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