Put on This Skin, and You Become a Man-Eating Ghost

Constable Wang Meng narrowed his eyes.

He did not speak at once. Instead, he stepped out from behind the desk. His thick-soled official boots struck the ground with dull, powerful thuds, and the Wild Goose Feather Saber at his waist swayed with his stride. The bronze fittings on its scabbard had been polished to a bright shine.

He circled the stone lock once, then nudged the bluestone with the tip of his foot.

It did not budge an inch.

It truly was a solid hundred-pound piece, not swapped out for a fake.

Wang Meng raised his head, his gaze like two hooks as he sized up the pale-faced scholar before him once more.

That lift just now had looked shaky, as though his waist might snap at any moment, but that final steadying motion had been the real deal.

In these chaotic times, strength was capital. Even if he was a sickly ghost, as long as he could cut people down, he was a good blade.

"What's your name?" Wang Meng spat out the grass stem in his mouth. His voice was still rough, but held a little less contempt.

"Ji Ye."

Ji Ye cupped his hands, his manners impeccable yet neither servile nor overbearing. "I studied for a few years, but my family fell on hard times. I wish to earn a living at the yamen."

"A scholar?"

Wang Meng bared a grin, revealing teeth yellowed by tobacco. "That's rare. These days, scholars are either reciting poetry and matching couplets in brothels, or gnawing bark amid the refugees. You're the first one I've seen willing to put down his airs and become a runner."

He walked up to Ji Ye and suddenly reached out, giving Ji Ye's shoulder a heavy pat.

The pat seemed friendly, but concealed force behind it.

An ordinary scholar would have been slapped straight onto the ground by that blow.

Ji Ye had been prepared.

The instant that large hand came down, he bent his knees slightly, dug his toes into the ground, and used Triple Brute Force to tense the muscles of his shoulders and back.

Bang.

Ji Ye's body swayed slightly, then steadied. There was even that faint smile on his face.

"Interesting."

The sharp light in Wang Meng's eyes grew brighter. This kid's stance was weak, but that stubborn toughness was rare. And what pleased him most was the kid's gaze—none of a scholar's lofty, sour pedantry, but instead a trace of ruthlessness.

Like a wolf that had tasted blood.

"Fine, you pass."

Wang Meng waved a large hand and turned back toward the desk. "Go register over there and collect your badge and uniform. Roll call is at dawn tomorrow. Be late, and you can get lost."

A low murmur of surprise rose from the surrounding crowd.

He passed just like that?

This was a job paid by the imperial granary! Five qian of silver a month, exemption from corvée labor—in Black Stone County, it was one of the finest paths available.

Ji Ye did not reveal any wild delight. He merely cupped his hands again. "Thank you for your support, sir."

He turned and walked toward the clerk handling registration, his steps steady. Only the hand hidden in his sleeve still trembled slightly—those two exertions had nearly drained his current physical limits.

This body was still far too weak.

If he did not quickly obtain meat to nourish himself, relying on talent alone would sooner or later train him into ruin.

The uniform he received was a half-worn black garment, and the character "Constable" on the chest was already coming loose at the seams. The badge was wooden, carved with "Team D, Number 7."

He did not even get a saber.

Only an Intimidation Stick wrapped in iron plating.

"Newcomer, do you know the rules?"

The gaunt old clerk responsible for issuing supplies looked Ji Ye up and down with cloudy eyes, rubbing his fingers together. "This uniform is made of fine material, and that badge was newly carved..."

Ji Ye understood.

The King of Hell might be easy to meet, but the little demons were hard to deal with.

Without changing expression, he took out the dozen or so copper coins from his clothes—the entire fortune he had taken from One-Eye's corpse. He kept only two coins for buying flatbread and stuffed the rest into the old clerk's hand.

"I'm new here, so I'll have to rely on your guidance, Senior." Ji Ye lowered his voice, his tone sincere.

The old clerk weighed the copper coins in his hand, and the wrinkles on his face, like orange peel, instantly smoothed out.

"Heh, a scholar who knows what's what."

The old clerk's attitude changed immediately. He looked around, then pulled out a pair of fairly thick cloth shoes from beneath the table and tossed them to Ji Ye. "The soles on your old pair were worn through. Take these. Consider them a gift."

"Thank you."

Ji Ye changed into the new shoes, and at last felt a trace of warmth beneath his feet.

Those dozen or so coins had been well spent.

In the yamen, information was more important than life itself.

"Little brother, you look like a sensible man, so this old fellow will offer one more reminder." The old clerk lowered his voice and leaned close to Ji Ye's ear. "Getting assigned to Team Ding means your luck is bad. Team Ding handles the southern part of the city—that's Ghost Market territory, and it's a complete mess. Also, your Squad Leader, Zhao Ba Pi, has a black hand. He skims thirty percent of the regular payments every month, so be prepared."

The south side of the city, Ghost Market.

Ji Ye's heart stirred. In his previous life, when he had been a beggar, he had scraped by in the south of the city. People from every walk of life gathered there. There was not only a black market for fencing stolen goods, but also... leaked fragments of martial arts manuals.

"Thank you for the advice, Senior."

Ji Ye committed the information to memory.

Night fell.

Ji Ye moved into the communal bunkhouse provided by the county yamen.

Twenty men slept in one room. The stink of sweat and feet mixed with the sound of snoring, enough to choke a person unconscious.

Yet he slept soundly.

Compared to sleeping in the open under the cold wind, this place was practically heaven.

At dawn the next day.

The moment the drum sounded, Ji Ye rolled out of bed.

Years of a corporate drone's body clock, combined with the vigilance born of his days as a beggar, had left him with no habit of sleeping in.

Cold fog shrouded the training ground.

Several dozen constables stood around in a scattered formation. Some were still yawning, while others were improperly dressed. The Great Liang Dynasty was rotten to its roots, so the yamen in this remote county naturally had no discipline to speak of.

Only Wang Meng stood atop the platform, his expression dark.

"Are you all still half-asleep, you bastards?"

Wang Meng suddenly roared. The Wild Goose Feather Saber in his hand came out with a shing, its cold gleam flashing through the mist.

A nearby wooden post had a corner sliced off in an instant, its cut as smooth as a mirror.

The entire training ground fell silent at once, and everyone straightened their backs.

Ji Ye stood at the rear of the formation, his pupils contracting slightly.

What a fast saber.

Was this a martial artist?

Though it was only the most basic saber technique, in Wang Meng's hands it held the force to split steles and shatter stone. If Ji Ye took that blow, even with Triple Brute Force, he would likely be cleaved in two.

After all, brute force only increased strength, not defense.

"There's a mission today."

Wang Meng sheathed his saber and swept his gaze over the crowd. "Li Family Village outside the city was hit by thieves last night. Three people died. The County Magistrate has given us three days to solve the case. Teams A and B will go to the scene. Teams C and Ding... will search the city for suspicious people."

At that point, Wang Meng paused, his gaze seeming to flick toward Ji Ye intentionally or otherwise.

"Especially those refugees who just entered the city. Check them one by one! Anyone who dares resist, beat them first and talk later!"

"Yes!"

The constables answered in unison, but excitement gleamed in their eyes.

Searching refugees?

That was a cushy job.

Refugees might have no money, but they always had some hidden dry rations, clothing, or even... women.

For these constables draped in official skins, this was not solving a case at all. It was plainly legalized robbery.

Ji Ye tightened his grip on the Intimidation Stick.

He felt sickened, but at the same time, he felt the cold reality of it all.

This was the world he had to blend into.

If he did not want to be eaten, he first had to learn how to bare his teeth.

"Team Ding, follow me!"

A burly man with a face full of flesh and a bulbous nose strode over, carrying a barbed whip in his hand. He was the Zhao Ba Pi the old clerk had mentioned.

Zhao Ba Pi glanced sidelong at Ji Ye's unfamiliar face and sneered. "Newcomer? You're so tender-skinned and delicate. Don't piss your pants later. Stay close, and I'll teach you how to do this job."

Ji Ye lowered his head, concealing the cold glint in his eyes.

"Yes, Chief."

The group charged out of the county yamen in a grand procession, heading straight for the south side of the city.

In the wind and snow, that one-eyed old crow had somehow followed them again. It circled above their heads, letting out hoarse cries of mockery.

As though it were watching a pack of evil ghosts released from their cage.