Terrorists Go Into Tofu Business

Lin Shou had worked through the night, utterly exhausted, and once he finally slept, his mind relaxed, plunging him into a deep, dreamless oblivion where he lost all track of day and night.

When he woke again, dusk had settled outside, the sun sinking behind the western hills.

The Capital City at evening was thick with the smoky, human warmth of life. In the lanes around Caishikou, chimneys puffed cooking fires as households lit their stoves, and food stalls rolled out steaming baskets for the night market to open.

Lin Shou stirred awake on his cold cot.

The first thing he saw was a beauty at his side.

Ning Luowei sat in a chair, her elbow resting on the cot, her soft jade-like cheek propped on her hand. She leaned lazily close, blinking her cat-tail peach-blossom eyes at him.

"Why haven't you left yet?"

Lin Shou closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, his tone impatient. Don't ask how he dared to speak so arrogantly to the Scalp-Cutter, whose fearsome reputation filled the Capital City. Ask instead about last night, when Ning Luowei had whimpered and wailed like a ghost during the stitching—anyone who saw that could never take her seriously again. A patient this fussy was absurd; in his past life, even taking his little niece to the hospital hadn't produced such a ruckus from a child.

This melodramatic woman had completely reshaped Lin Shou's understanding of the Great Jing Dynasty's high-martial criminals, dragging down the ideological standards of aspiring wrongdoers.

"I just thought if I left without saying goodbye, you might pine for me a long time," Ning Luowei said, blinking her cat-tail eyes at Lin Shou with a smile. "After all, you might never see a woman as good-looking as me again."

This narcissistic, conceited little woman—once her wounds healed, she forgot the pain, preening with all the smugness she could muster.

Lin Shou shook his head and said:

"No, I won't. When the Six Fan School catches you and drags you to the Caishikou execution ground for beheading, I'll go watch how they kill you. Maybe I'll even be the one stitching your corpse."

"Ptoo, ptoo, ptoo! Wish me something good!"

Ning Luowei spat in protest, then wandered around the Corpse-Stitching Shop, poking at Lin Shou's jars and stitching tools with the casual air of someone who didn't consider herself an outsider at all.

"The Six Fan School won't catch me anytime soon. My sect hasn't sent me a new order, so I won't act—they can't find me. Of course, you'd better not rat me out, or I'll have to silence you."

Ning Luowei waved her Willow Leaf Blade, trying to scare Lin Shou. His face was always so flat, as if nothing could move him, and it made her grit her teeth.

Of course, she wouldn't really do anything to Lin Shou. Setting aside the unspoken rule among martial artists not to harm a doctor, just the fact that he'd stitched her up last night was a great debt of gratitude.

Besides, she'd been so muddled from her injuries last night, saying all those ridiculous things. Remembering it made Ning Luowei flush with embarrassment, but since some words had been spoken, she couldn't let it go without an answer.

Ning Luowei nudged Lin Shou with her calf, then looked everywhere but at him, trying to act casual as she asked:

"Hey, about what I said last night..."

"Forgotten."

"..."

Falling flowers drift on the water, but the stream flows on without a care.

Ning Luowei fumed, turned away, and sat down to stew in silence.

Lin Shou's head ached. If someone showed up now, how would he explain this? She was a major fugitive of the court.

He thought it over and grudgingly said:

"Since you don't want to hold the sword anymore, then put it down."

Ning Luowei turned to look at him, her captivating cat-tail eyes narrowing into a sly slit, finally showing a hint of a smile. Lin Shou said she could leave now if she was satisfied, and quickly seized the chance to send her off.

As for capturing the Scalp-Cutter and handing her over to the authorities?

He couldn't be bothered with that trouble.

Lin Shou stared at the wanted poster on the wall—the portrait of the man with the long-haired mole—and mulled over the recent rumors circulating in the martial world about the Minister of Justice.

A few days ago, in the Lantern of Life of that dead constable, he'd seen the man die at the hands of the Canal Gang at Shallow Water Pier. Now, looking at the Minister of Justice and this Scalp-Cutter manhunt, the threads seemed to connect, possibly tangling with the Western Affairs Party's comprador dealings within the court.

Lin Shou had no desire to get dragged into this murky, bottomless pool for the sake of a thousand taels of reward silver.

Every day, he burned his Greed-Abstinence Silver, cultivating his character in this little Corpse-Stitching Shop. In his spare time, he went to the teahouse to listen to storytelling, or chatted about romance with the beautiful Shopkeeper Xia. Wasn't that a sweet life?

So Lin Shou had no intention of turning Ning Luowei in for the bounty. He sent her off, and from then on, they'd forget each other in the rivers and lakes.

But heaven often defies human wishes.

And besides, someone was stirring up trouble.

Lin Shou had barely enjoyed a few peaceful days after sending Ning Luowei away.

One morning at dawn, when he opened his door, he was shocked to see a long line snaking through the streets of Caishikou.

Following the queue, he found that the long-vacant shop across the street had opened for business, packed so tight people could barely move.

Curious about the commotion, Lin Shou asked a customer in line. They said a new tofu shop had opened, and the owner, the Tofu Beauty, was so stunning she looked like a fairy descended from heaven.

Lin Shou chuckled at that. What a stroke of luck—right across from his Corpse-Stitching Shop, just a few steps away. From now on, he could sit in his shop and feast his eyes every day.

But when he got a clear look at the Tofu Beauty's face, his expression immediately soured. He turned back inside and shut the door tight.

Until evening, someone knocked. Lin Shou ignored it.

But he didn't open, and the knocking persisted. Finally, Lin Shou opened the door.

Ning Luowei walked in carrying a steaming bowl of fragrant tofu pudding, set it down for Lin Shou, and pinched her ears from the heat. "My new shop just opened, and you won't even come by to support the business?"

The new tofu shop across from Lin Shou's Corpse-Stitching Shop had men from eighteen nearby streets getting up earlier than roosters every morning to line up for tofu, just for a glimpse of the Tofu Beauty—and who else could that be but Ning Luowei?

Lin Shou thought to himself, what the hell? Here was a major fugitive of the court, flaunting herself in public every day, swaggering around like she owned the place, and the Six Fan School still couldn't catch her?

And you, Ning Luowei—as a criminal of the Great Jing Dynasty, you should have ideals, ambitions, and goals. You should be launching terrorist attacks, kidnapping court officials, assassinating the Great Jing Emperor. How could you open a tofu shop and waste your life away?

Lin Shou shoveled the tofu pudding into his mouth as he thought.

Damn it. He never should have said that "put down the sword" line the other day. Now this troublesome woman had latched onto him.