When Wang Quan and several of his subordinates arrived at Spring Return Hall, the sun had already climbed high. The apothecary's storefront was not particularly large, its gold-lettered sign on a black background appearing somewhat weathered, and a faint medicinal scent permeated the air. A tall and sturdy bailiff stepped forward, and without waiting for a response from within, he raised his leg and kicked fiercely at the door panel!
With a tremendous crash, the door panel shook violently, almost dislodging from its hinges.
"Official business! The person in charge, get out here!" the bailiff shouted roughly, his voice startling the street into a momentary hush.
A moment later, an elderly man wearing a gray long gown and with flower-white hair tumbled and crawled out from the inner room. His face was devoid of all color, and he dropped heavily to his knees, trembling all over. "S-Sir officials... This humble old man is the manager of the shop. I do not know, I do not know what instructions you have?"
Wang Quan said nothing, his icy gaze sweeping across the apothecary. The medicine cabinets were neat, and the floor was clean, making it look entirely like an ordinary medical hall. Behind him, a subordinate unfolded a portrait—it was precisely the likeness of Doctor Liu that Wang Quan had drawn based on his memories of the illusion.
"Do you recognize this person?" The bailiff shoved the portrait almost against the old manager's face. "Doctor Liu! He has committed a crime, and where is he now? Confess honestly!"
The old manager squinted and carefully looked at the portrait. His complexion instantly turned as pale as paper, and his lips trembled even more violently. "O-Official... Y-You must have made a mistake? T-This is indeed Doctor Liu without a doubt, but, but he... He passed away three months ago!"
"Dead?" The bailiff grabbed the old manager by the collar, almost lifting him entirely off the ground, fierce light blazing in his eyes. "Talking nonsense! So many aggrieved parties have identified him, and people saw him prescribing medicine to others as recently as a month ago, and you're telling me he's been dead for three months? Daring to fool government officers, this daddy will tear down this broken shop of yours right now!"
"I wouldn't dare! This humble one wouldn't dare, official!" Terrified out of his wits, the old manager wept and snot ran down together. "Doctor Liu really... really died of a sudden illness three months ago! Everyone in the shop knows it, and all the neighbors in the neighborhood know it as well! His funeral was even arranged with this humble old man's help! If the official doesn't believe it, you can ask around freely, or you can go check the records at the west city pauper's graveyard; there are official filings for all of it! If this humble one has uttered a single word of falsehood, let me be struck by lightning!"
Wang Quan furrowed his brow slightly and gave a subtle look. The bailiff released his grip, and the old manager collapsed weakly to the ground, panting heavily. Another subordinate immediately went inside to question the shop's clerks and apprentices, and the answers they obtained were identical to the old manager's. Every single one of them swore on oath that Doctor Liu had been dead for over three months, and some even gestured wildly to the heavens, claiming they had seen Doctor Liu's grave mound with their own eyes.
Wang Quan dispatched men at once on fast horses to the west city pauper's graveyard to retrieve the records. In less than half an hour, his subordinate brought back a document stamped with the graveyard's red seal, on which was written in black and white Doctor Liu's name, time of death, cause (sudden acute illness), and burial location. The time happened to be three months prior.
The man was indeed dead.
How could someone who had been dead for three months still frequently enter and exit private residences over the past month to take pulses and prescribe remedies for people? And what he prescribed was precisely... life-shortening prenatal tonics?
Wang Quan silently looked at the old manager, who lay paralyzed on the ground and still shaken with terror, and then glanced at the authentic death document. Unless ghosts were at work, it could only mean someone was impersonating him. Furthermore, the impostor not only mimicked his appearance extremely well but could also accurately locate those pregnant women who needed fetal protection and whose families had recently suffered a bereavement—conditions that met the criteria for refining coffin children. This was definitely not something an ordinary person could accomplish. More importantly, the deceased had been dead for three months without the news being widely publicized, yet the impostor knew of it and utilized his identity, which indicated that they were quite familiar with the situation at Spring Return Hall and even Doctor Liu himself.
Had people's minds been addled, causing those pregnant women's families to experience hallucinations? Or... was there an even more proficient master of disguise or sorcerer skilled in manipulating memories operating behind the scenes?
Just as his thoughts were racing, a messenger hurriedly ran up and handed over a small bamboo tally. "Commander Wang, Commander Chen has issued an urgent order: this case is to be concluded right here, all case files are to be sealed, and no further investigation is permitted."
Wang Quan took the bamboo tally, feeling its chill in his hand. He glanced at the Spring Return Hall manager, whose face was ashen, and waved his hand. "Let's go."
The group silently departed from Spring Return Hall. As they reached a street corner, they faintly heard two idlers who had just emerged from a nearby tea stall chatting in low voices.
"Speaking of that Doctor Liu, he was also plagued by terrible luck." A tall, thin man smacked his lips. "Originally, he honestly ran his medical hall. Though he couldn't make a huge fortune, he wouldn't starve either. Yet somehow he found some path and sucked up to that person... And the result? He didn't get to enjoy any blessings, and lost his life first."
"Shh! Keep it down! Do you have a death wish?" A short, stout man nearby nervously looked around in all directions and lowered his voice. "Are the affairs of that kind of great figure anything we can discuss? I heard it was just a sudden death, a sudden severe illness—when King Yama wants to collect someone, what can be done? You can only blame his own fate for being too thin to withstand that kind of 'wealth and nobility,' and it clashed with him..."
Wang Quan's footsteps paused slightly, and looking as if he did it unintentionally, he turned his head and asked a quick-witted subordinate beside him offhandedly, "The person they mentioned—which adult is that? It sounds rather mysterious."
The subordinate stepped closer, his voice lowered to the extreme, carrying a hint of awe and caution. "Commander, since you only arrived recently, you might not know... Who they're talking about is most likely... Lord General of the Middle Army."
General of the Middle Army.
Wang Quan's gaze narrowed slightly, and he asked no further. He raised his eyes to gaze at the tallest and most heavily guarded cluster of buildings in the city, where the county office and the residences of the garrison generals were located. The sunlight shone on the glazed tiles, reflecting a glaring light that failed to impart even a shred of warmth.
"The case is closed." Wang Quan withdrew his gaze, his tone calm and without a ripple. "Let's go back."
When they returned to that stone room in the garrison that forever smelled faintly of mildew and blood, day had already faded to dusk. Wang Quan walked straight to the outside of Commander Chen's room, where a dim, flickering light shone, and knocked on the door.
"Come in." Commander Chen's hoarse voice came from within.
Wang Quan pushed the door open and closed it behind him with a reverse motion. There was only a bean-sized oil lamp in the room, its light leaping erratically and casting Commander Chen's hunchbacked figure onto the mottled wall, stretching it into a distorted shape. He was wiping his long, narrow standard-issue waist saber by the lamplight, his movements slow and focused, without even lifting his head.
Dead silence filled the room, broken only by the rustling sound of coarse cloth wiping the blade and the occasional slight popping of the lamp wick. The air was so stagnant it made one gasp for breath.
Wang Quan stood before the desk, remaining silent for a moment before he finally spoke. His voice was not loud, yet it clearly shattered this suffocating stillness. "Was it that lord?"
He asked without beginning or end, but Commander Chen's action of wiping the saber paused imperceptibly. Still, he did not raise his head, his turbid gaze lingering on the snow-white blade as though there were something extremely fascinating upon it. After several breaths passed, he spoke slowly in an unusually flat tone devoid of any emotion:
"This matter ends right here." He paused, putting weight into his tone as if emphasizing it, or perhaps admonishing himself. "From now on, it will not appear again."
The room once more plunged into a terrifying stillness, heavier than before. The halo of the oil lamp wavered across Commander Chen's sallow face, the deep scar upon it looking exceptionally ferocious amidst the alternating light and shadow.
Wang Quan did not move, his gaze falling upon Commander Chen's calloused hands with their somewhat deformed knuckles. These were hands that had grasped sabers, slain demons, and, just like today, wiped away the corpses of countless condemned soldiers who, like him, had been treated as expendable consumables. He suddenly recalled the terrified, despairing face of the Spring Return Hall manager, the heart-rending agony of the fetus within the illusion, the dying pregnant women, and the infants whose vital essence had been drained away.
A cold, iron-tasting fury slowly bred and spread within his chest.
"This sort of matter," Wang Quan's voice remained calm, yet it was like an undercurrent flowing beneath ice, "has it... been happening a lot ever since he arrived?"
The instant the word "he" escaped his lips, Commander Chen abruptly raised his head!
Those eyes, usually turbid and fatigued, now shot out a sharp, hawk-like fierce light that nailed itself firmly onto Wang Quan's face, filled with shock, anger, and a warning. His chest rose and fell violently, and the veins on the back of the hand gripping the saber bulged.
"Stop poking your nose into things that aren't your concern!" Commander Chen's voice abruptly rose, carrying a sort of near-brutal reprimand that shattered the stillness of the room and made the lamp flame flicker a few times. "Tend to your own duties and guard your own life! The more you know about the rest, the faster you die!"
He stared fixedly at Wang Quan, his gaze ferocious as though he wanted to swallow him alive, but upon closer inspection, beneath that ferocity lay an even deeper, nearly overflowing exhaustion and despair.
"Get out." Commander Chen finally spoke as if exhausting all his strength, waving a listless hand and lowering his head once more to continue wiping that endless saber, though his movements had grown somewhat stiff and sluggish. He did not look at Wang Quan again, as if that momentary loss of composure had never occurred.
Wang Quan stood in his place, watching Commander Chen's deeper hunchbacked silhouette under the lamplight for a few seconds. The stone room was left with only the rustling sound of coarse cloth rubbing against the blade, appearing even more grating than before.
He asked no more, nor did he utter another single word, simply clasping his fists silently, turning around, gently pulling open the door and walking out, before quietly pulling the door shut behind him.
The subtle creak of the door hinges turning was exceptionally clear in the quiet corridor, and then everything returned to dead silence.
Before you continue