"Miss, what's wrong with you?"
Li Zhao watched Zhang Yajing's face grow paler, a flicker of panic in his eyes.
"You still ask! Hurry and call Cui Xi to take Miss back to her room to rest!" Madam Zhang was furious. She couldn't believe Li Zhao would bring up something so sensitive at a time like this.
"No need..." Zhang Yajing felt a dizzying sensation. She managed to stand up straight, "Mother, I want to go for a walk."
"Oh, do you want Cui Xi to accompany you?"
"No, I can go by myself. Mother, don't worry, I'm fine."
Zhang Yajing forced a strained smile and left, her spirit seemingly broken.
Her appearance was hardly reassuring.
"Li Zhao, quickly, follow her quietly. Make sure nothing happens."
"Yes, Madam."
Li Zhao hurried after Zhang Yajing, while Madam Zhang rubbed her temples and sighed.
The moon hung high in the sky over the mass grave. Chu Qingze lifted the white cloth covering the makeshift bed, revealing a grey, lifeless face.
This was the female corpse he had retrieved from the mass grave that very day. She was only ten years old, having died from a cold. Her family was so poor they couldn't afford a coffin and had simply dumped her in the mass grave.
He had happened to be there and offered ten taels of silver for a coffin. But the father, upon receiving the money, had absconded, stating that since his daughter wouldn't be buried in the ancestral grave, there was no need to waste money on her.
Chu Qingze recalled the man's avaricious smile and couldn't help but feel a pang of melancholy. As for the girl, he had brought her back.
He placed three sticks of incense in front of the girl, bowed three times, and then took out a knife. He made an incision on her chest, slowly widening it.
"Ahhhh!"
A sudden scream from the doorway startled Chu Qingze, causing his hand to tremble and nearly drop the knife.
He spun around abruptly. Zhang Yajing stood there, clutching her head, her eyes wide with terror as she stared at Chu Qingze.
"You... you you..." Her voice trailed off as her body went limp, and she fainted.
Chu Qingze: "..."
When she woke up, Zhang Yajing found Chu Qingze standing beside her, a frown on his face as he seemed lost in thought.
"Are you... going to kill me to silence me?"
Chu Qingze snapped back to attention. His gaze fell on Zhang Yajing, and his expression softened. "You're awake. Good. Get up."
It was good she was awake. He had been wondering how he would carry her into the house.
Zhang Yajing clutched her head and sat up. Despite her fear, her curiosity got the better of her, and she peeked into the inner room. A corpse lay there quietly, its chest gaping open.
Recalling the horrifying scene, Zhang Yajing timidly asked, "What were you doing just now?"
Chu Qingze wasn't particularly welcoming to such an uninvited guest, so his answer was perfunctory: "Dissecting."
"Dissecting... you mean... cutting open the stomach?"
Zhang Yajing made a slicing gesture with her hand, a flicker of fear in her eyes.
"Of course," Chu Qingze replied, a hint of surprise in his voice. "You didn't know that I moved to the mass grave specifically to dissect corpses here?"
"I thought... you were hiding from me..." Her voice grew softer.
Chu Qingze remembered Zhang Yajing peeking from outside his door every few days. He found her reasoning plausible.
"What brings you here today? Has your condition relapsed?" He specifically looked at Zhang Yajing's complexion, finding no signs of illness, and dismissed the thought.
"I came to drink with you!" Mentioning her purpose, Zhang Yajing's tone became more lively. She casually picked up the wine jar and a packet of beef that had been placed on the ground.
"You cured me. I haven't thanked you yet. This round is on me!"
Chu Qingze frowned. "I'm busy."
"It's okay. I'll wait. We can drink when you're done."
Seeing that she had no intention of leaving, Chu Qingze said, "Make yourself at home."
He then entered the room, completely unconcerned that his cold demeanor might hurt her feelings.
Zhang Yajing was accustomed to his attitude. Seeing him enter the room where the corpse was kept, she mustered her courage and followed him in. However, as she passed the corpse, she covered her eyes with the wine jar.
"Is this your usual drinking cup?" Zhang Yajing asked, spotting two cups on the table.
Chu Qingze replied without turning his head, "Those are for ashes."
Zhang Yajing yelped and threw the cup away.
Chu Qingze sighed. "The cups are in the kitchen."
Zhang Yajing scampered to the kitchen to fetch two cups. She then poured both full and began drinking from one.
Seeing her casual demeanor, Chu Qingze simply ignored her and, after opening the corpse's chest, began examining the extent of the organ damage.
This was the medical technique passed down from his master, a secret inheritance unknown to outsiders. After all, one's body was a gift from one's parents. Unless it was a victim of a crime, who would willingly allow others to tamper with the bodies of their loved ones? He had moved here hoping for a chance to find unclaimed corpses of those who died tragically for dissection and research after paying respects.
However, he knew nothing of their lives, so he could only deduce from symptoms and organ damage, attempting to glean insights. In truth, it was largely an exercise in futility, but better than nothing.
"Are you bringing back these corpses to research medicine?"
Zhang Yajing's voice came from behind him.
Chu Qingze gave a simple "Mm," offering no further explanation.
"How long will it take you?"
"An hour."
Silence followed, punctuated only by the faint aroma of wine.
Chu Qingze focused, observing the corpse and taking out a brush and paper to meticulously record everything he saw.
His neat handwriting danced across the pages, pausing and flowing, filling several pages before a shadow fell upon them.
"What are you writing? Let me see."
Zhang Yajing's face was flushed, and her breath was heavy with the scent of alcohol. She reached out to snatch the booklet. Chu Qingze quickly stepped back.
"You're drunk. Stop messing around."
He swiftly placed the booklet on a nearby shelf and retreated a couple of steps.
Zhang Yajing sat back down in her chair, leaning against the table, propping her head with her hand. She smiled at Chu Qingze, "What are you so nervous about? You've already finished writing. Come on, let's drink."
She patted the table. Chu Qingze picked up the wine jar and saw it was empty.
His tone was tinged with displeasure. "How much did you drink?"
While Zhang Yajing had a decent tolerance for alcohol, her body had only recently recovered. This was hardly the time for revelry.
"I was happy! When you're happy, you have to drink more... but it's a shame... you won't drink with me."
Her words were slurred and softer than usual, lacking her usual boisterousness. Chu Qingze found himself a little more patient.
"Is something troubling you lately?"
"No, what could be troubling me? I'm fine."
"Is it something related to Master Zhang?"
Zhang Yajing's smile faltered. A mistiness clouded her drunken eyes. She opened her mouth a few times, finally letting out a cold laugh.
"Chu Qingze, my father might be dying."
A flicker of guilt crossed Chu Qingze's eyes, but he offered words of comfort, "The verdict hasn't been passed yet. Don't let your imagination run wild."
"Even if the verdict hasn't been passed, the outcome is decided. An official who accepted bribes, trafficked people, and colluded with a martial arts organization... what good end can he expect?"
She looked up, her face, flushed from drink, appearing pitiful. She asked, "Do you think my father deserves it?"
"Stop talking nonsense. I'll go make you some hangover soup."
Deserves it? There was no doubt about it. After all, the countless trafficked victims, their lingering scars, all pointed to the county magistrate Zhang Chu's complicity with the Bloodthirsty Pavilion. But how could he say such a thing to Zhang Yajing?
Zhang Yajing was different from her father; she had a kind heart. Although Chu Qingze felt no romantic affection for her, he had no intention of harming this innocent girl.
Unexpectedly, Zhang Yajing insisted on an answer. She grabbed Chu Qingze's sleeve. "Don't go!"
"Let go!" Chu Qingze felt a prickling sensation on the back of his neck. He forcefully shook her hand away.
Drunk, Zhang Yajing lost her balance and hit her head against the wall.
"Ouch! That hurts..." Tears welled up as she hit her head. Pointing at Chu Qingze, she accused, "I came to drink with you in good faith, and you hit me."
"I... " Chu Qingze felt guilty. "I didn't hit you. You bumped into it yourself."
"If you hadn't pushed me, would I have hit it?"
She slammed her hand on the table and stood up, swaying precariously before finding her balance. Her words were intermittent.
"You... you only know how to bully me. You poisoned me, you inquired about my father's affairs. I know everything. And now... you... you even hit me."
"You..." Chu Qingze was stunned.
She knew everything?
"But I can't blame you. It's my father who did bad things. He deserves to be beheaded. But... he's still my father. What can I do?"
"Zhang Yajing, calm down."
Chu Qingze sensed something was wrong. Zhang Yajing's face was becoming increasingly flushed, which couldn't possibly be due to drinking. It was likely caused by her intense emotions. If this continued, her illness might relapse.
"I can't calm down!" Zhang Yajing suddenly raised her voice. "Chu Qingze! You ruined me! If it weren't for you, I'd still have my martial arts skills. I'd still have a great life. And now? My father is about to die, and I don't have long to live either..."
Suddenly, her eyes blazing red, she threw a punch. Chu Qingze dodged to the side, evading the blow. But a barrage of punches and kicks followed in quick succession, each strike laced with killing intent.
She had murderous intent!
Chu Qingze hadn't expected Zhang Yajing to attack suddenly. However, her martial arts skills were inferior to his, and she had drunk so much earlier. If they were to truly fight, she wouldn't stand a chance against Chu Qingze.
Soon, Chu Qingze had her pinned to the table, his hands restraining hers.
"Chu Qingze, let go of me..."
Zhang Yajing struggled desperately, trying to break free from his grasp, but Chu Qingze incapacitated her with an acupoint strike.
"Stay put for a while. I'll go make you some hangover soup."
He settled Zhang Yajing properly onto a chair and then hurried out to the kitchen. As he placed the medicinal herbs into the earthenware pot, a flood of long-buried memories surfaced: bloody wounds, helpless eyes, a dimly lit room.
Chu Qingze's face turned ashen. The earthenware pot slipped from his grasp and shattered on the ground.
Those memories shouldn't have surfaced, but Zhang Yajing's hateful expression just now strongly resembled that woman from before.
That woman... his master's woman.