Chapter 8

A Chan saw the two out, and as she turned back, she spotted the bookshop owner next door bustling toward his shop with two oil-paper packages in hand.

When he saw A Chan, he greeted her warmly: "Miss Ji."

"Boss Xu, what delicious find have you got there?" A Chan replied with a smile.

A Chan had only met Boss Xu once this morning, but Ji Chan remembered him well.

When she first moved here, Boss Xu saw she was alone and seemed clueless, so he worried something might happen to her and took her around the street to buy many daily necessities.

The rice, flour, charcoal, and firewood at home were all things Boss Xu had helped Ji Chan purchase.

Ji Chan had offered him a tael of silver as thanks, but he refused, and in the end, she treated him to a mutton bun from Granny Huang's stall on the street, which made everyone happy.

From this, A Chan knew that Boss Xu was a good man with a fondness for good food.

"Old Man Hu has set up a stall at the street corner selling smoked chicken. His smoked chicken is an absolute specialty. Today, I got lucky and snagged two," he said, lifting the oil-paper packages as he spoke.

Though the distance was far, the aroma of chicken still reached A Chan's nose. She turned, closed the door, and said to Boss Xu, "Boss Xu, keep an eye on my place for me. I'm going to buy some too."

"Go on, go on."

Watching A Chan lift her skirt and hurry toward the street corner, Boss Xu said to the young apprentice who had come out, "Miss Ji seems much more cheerful than before."

The young apprentice also peeked out and muttered under his breath, "The two who sent Miss Ji back just now were Mingjing Division Guards. They looked fierce. I wonder what Miss Ji's background is?"

A Chan had no idea what Boss Xu and the young apprentice were curious about. By the time she reached the street corner, a crowd had already gathered around Old Man Hu's stall.

Some people grumbled that the smoked chicken was too expensive but refused to leave. Others bought a bowl of plain noodles from the noodle stall next door, eating while savoring the smoked chicken's aroma, seemingly enjoying themselves.

A Chan waited in line for nearly a shichen before finally buying half a smoked chicken.

Old Man Hu's smoked chicken smelled incredibly good, but it was too expensive. Half a chicken cost her a full thirty wen.

For the first time, A Chan felt a strong urge to make money. As a fox demon, she at least had to be able to afford chicken.

Since Old Man Hu said the smoked chicken tasted better after it cooled, A Chan didn't rush to eat it. She had to go to Zhao Manor tomorrow, so today she needed to finish making the scented pouches.

Her spices were all laid out on the new table she had bought today, along with some tools. She stepped forward, organized everything, and picked out the spices she would need for the day.

Spices could be made into incense sticks, coiled incense, scented pills, and many other forms. Scented pouches were the easiest to start with.

But when learning incense, the hardest part was blending the recipes. Fortunately, Lady Xiao Lin only wanted an insect-repelling incense, and the spices needed were common, making it easy to mix.

A Chan took mugwort leaf, mint, dried tangerine peel, and four other spices, ground them into powder one by one, mixed them in equal proportions, and stuffed them into a cotton bag, which she then placed into the scented pouch she had bought outside.

These spices were all mosquito-repelling and had a slightly sharp scent. When blended together, the smell was strong but not irritating, and she figured most people could tolerate it.

With the scented pouch finished, A Chan checked the sky. Unnoticed, it had already passed shen shi. Outside, the sky had darkened, and the wind had picked up.

Only then did she feel hungry. She had bought half a smoked chicken earlier, and if she made some flatbread for the evening meal, she could eat.

A Chan thought it would be easy, but she had misjudged her own skills.

To make flatbread, she had to knead dough. If the dough was too thin, she added flour; if too much water, she added more flour. By the time she finally had the dough ready, the small ball meant for two meals had turned into a large one that could last at least two days.

No matter, she thought, finding solace in hardship. She could make hand-pulled noodles tomorrow.

By the time she came out of the kitchen carrying six flatbreads, each as big as her face, half a shichen had passed.

She lit an oil lamp, placed the flatbreads and the shredded smoked chicken side by side on the table. The aroma of chicken spread out, and just as A Chan reached for it, a knock suddenly came from outside.

"Who is it?" she asked, walking to the door without removing the latch.

"Open the door." The person outside neither gave his name nor stated his identity, and his attitude was far from friendly, but A Chan recognized his voice.

She lifted the latch and opened the door. Standing outside was the Mingjing Division's Pacification Commissioner, whom she hadn't seen in days.

She had thought earlier today that her words might draw this lord here, but she hadn't expected him to disregard all etiquette and come at such a time.

"Please come in, my lord." After silently complaining, A Chan still respectfully invited him inside.

Bai Xiuming stepped over the threshold into the empty room, his gaze sweeping around before finally landing on the two plates on the table.

Seeing him eyeing her dinner, A Chan asked reluctantly, "My lord, have you not had your evening meal? Would you like to eat together?"

Bai Xiuming looked at the flatbreads on the plate—uneven in size, varying in thickness, and burnt on one side—and moved his gaze away expressionlessly.

Looks like he's not eating, A Chan thought, then brought over the only stool in the room: "Please have a seat, my lord."

Bai Xiuming didn't sit. Instead, he studied her with a scrutinizing gaze for a moment before speaking: "The news about the Snow Needle Snake—you told Feng Yang?"

A Chan admitted it readily: "I did. I happened to have knowledge of that strange snake in my memory, so I told Lord Feng."

"Feng Yang is very grateful to you."

"I'm glad I could help Lord Feng," A Chan said modestly.

But then, his tone shifted, and he asked darkly, "Was it to help him?"

A Chan wanted to say yes, but given the lessons she had learned from this man—painful ones—she chose silence.

The oil lamp on the table crackled as the wick burned. The dim, yellow light fell on Bai Xiuming, casting a shadow like a ravenous beast, claws bared and menacing.

A Chan said nothing, and he remained silent, as if waiting for her answer.

Left with no choice, A Chan finally admitted: "I helped Lord Feng because I wanted to use his status to shield myself from Xue Mingtang. My lord should know—he wants to kill me, and he still hasn't given up."

Bai Xiuming asked again, "Why were you at the West Market?"

"To buy spices." She pointed at the wooden stake set against the wall, where spices and the scented pouches she had made were piled, and explained, "I learned to blend fragrances before. I thought I could use it to make a living, so I went there to buy some spices. Who knew I'd happen to run into the Mingjing Division making an arrest?"

"Such a coincidence?"

His tone clearly showed he didn't believe her words.

A Chan finally caught on. This man had come all this way specifically because he suspected her of being connected to that Strange Snake.

She felt helpless. She had long seen what this man was like—utterly impervious to reason. He only trusted his own judgment.

Arguing with him was pointless; she might as well try another approach.

"It is quite a coincidence, but there's actually another reason I helped Lord Feng." A Chan's shimmering eyes settled on Bai Xiuming.

Bai Xiuming turned his head to look at her, as if waiting to hear her excuse.

"I guessed that Lord Feng would tell you what happened today, and that you might come looking for me."

"And then?"

"And then I'd have a chance to curry favor with you."

"Curry favor with me?" Bai Xiuming found it absurd. "What do you plan to use to curry favor with me?"

Their eyes met. Bai Xiuming's gaze was deep, as if he could see through to A Chan's heart. She avoided his stare, and in a flash of inspiration, pointed at the table, her tone a little uncertain: "That?"

Thirty wen of sincerity was already plenty. A smoked chicken that fragrant—if she were trying to win someone over, half would be enough. But Bai Xiuming looked at the plate of flatbreads instead.

He fell silent. Countless people in Shangjing City wanted to curry favor with him—some with rare beasts, some with gold and jewels, and stunning beauties were nothing special. This was the first time he had seen such a unique approach, trying to conquer him with terrible cooking.

"... Keep your flatbreads for yourself."

"Huh?" A Chan was bewildered.

But Bai Xiuming ignored her and continued, "Don't leave Shangjing City for now. If needed, I'll call on you to cooperate with the investigation."

"Rest assured, sir." Where else could she go if she left Shangjing?

"If I find out you're connected to this case..." Bai Xiuming said each word deliberately, "Your maternal grandfather's family won't just get off with exile. This official wouldn't mind dragging them back and interrogating them again."

A Chan's heart jolted. Ji Chan only knew that her maternal grandfather's family had stirred up some great disaster and been exiled overnight; she had no idea what exactly had happened.

From Bai Xiuming's words, it seemed to be related to this case. With the Strange Snake involved, this case was likely no simple matter.

And it had been so long since Ji Chan's maternal grandfather's family was exiled, yet the case was still under investigation.

"You jest, sir. I really was just passing through."

"Best if that's true."

Bai Xiuming finished speaking and turned to leave. He had only taken a few steps, his hand just touching the door, when he heard a soft, sweet voice from behind: "This is our second meeting, and I still don't know your name."

Bai Xiuming: "You don't need to know."

"Then can I at least know your surname?" A Chan pressed on relentlessly.

"..."

"Am I not even worthy of knowing your surname?" A faint sob crept into her voice.

Affected and contrived, Bai Xiuming judged inwardly. But as he stepped over the threshold, he still let out a single word: "Bai."

Closing the door, A Chan exhaled. Finally, she had sent that Plague god away.

What kind of person has the surname Bai but a heart so black?

When she helped others, even if they didn't repay her, they at least remembered her kindness. But with this man, he went straight to suspecting her.

Bai Xiuming walked into the deep night, the cold wind lifting the hem of his robe.

He hadn't gone far when Feng Yang, who had been waiting outside, stepped forward: "Sir, the surveillance on the Zhao and Xue families has been arranged."

"Send two more people to watch her. See if the Lin Family has contacted her at all."

"Understood."