The Four Great Constables

The sun was high in the sky, and warning ropes had been strung up on Caishikou Street.

Curious citizens of the capital craned their necks, peering around. Only Six Fan School personnel came and went, conducting door-to-door searches in the surrounding alleys. Corpses of those who had died at the hands of the Ghost Sha Butcher the previous night were wrapped in straw mats and carried out—nearly a hundred in total.

At the entrance of the Corpse-Stitching Shop, the Ghost Sha Butcher lay sprawled on the ground, foaming at the mouth. He was bound with heavy iron chains and hauled away. A Six Fan School patrol officer was questioning Lin Shou: "What happened here?"

"No idea, Officer. The moment I opened the door, I saw him lying at my shop entrance. I thought he was trying to frame me."

Lin Shou scratched his head with a simpleton's grin, launching into his specialty—the villain crying foul first. After all, he had beaten the Ghost Sha Butcher senseless, and no one on the street had seen anything early in the morning. Dead men tell no tales.

The Six Fan School patrol officer looked at the simple, honest Lin Shou before him and suspected nothing. Everyone knew the corpse stitcher at this shop was a bit of a fool. With that IQ, how could he possibly lie? And even if he did, wouldn't the officer see through it? Could he really be fooled by a fool?

Don't be ridiculous. If he could be tricked by him, he might as well quit the Six Fan School and take up collecting night soil with the dung cart men.

"Officer, who is this guy? Why did so many of you come to catch him, and tie him up with so many chains?"

"A demonic cultist from the White Lotus Sect. He slaughtered an entire street of people last night."

"What?!"

Lin Shou's face was a mask of shock.

"Fortunately, we caught him today. The White Lotus Sect has been running rampant lately, bringing chaos to the people and endangering the region. Make sure to lock your doors and windows at night, and beware of villains."

"Got it, Officer. Thanks for the advice."

Lin Shou agreed, but inwardly he thought: So that guy was from the White Lotus Sect. Why do I keep getting tangled up with these criminals for no reason...

When Lin Shou had encountered the Ghost Sha Butcher that morning, he had immediately seen the man was no good—covered in blood, a murderous aura. Even without Subtle Perception, he could tell the man had just killed many people. Otherwise, Lin Shou wouldn't have struck so ruthlessly.

Now, after asking the Six Fan School people, he learned the man wasn't just a lone thug but part of an organized criminal gang. That made it even more crucial not to reveal that he had taken the guy down himself. What if they came seeking revenge?

The White Lotus Sect was the largest rebel organization in the Great Jing Dynasty. What wouldn't these criminals do? If they came for revenge and just wanted to kill him, that would be one thing. But what if they couldn't beat him and instead splattered shit all over his shop door?

Tsk. Good thing he had the foresight to shift the blame quickly and extricate himself. Whoever wanted to take the fall could have it.

Lin Shou ambled cheerfully back into the Corpse-Stitching Shop.

After the Six Fan School finished their evidence collection and investigation, the news was urgently relayed to the Ministry of Justice and the Grand Court of Revision. The Minister of Justice, that little old man, was already frantic.

Not long ago, he had nearly been exiled home to farm sweet potatoes because of the Scalp-Cutter case. No sooner had that been resolved than the Ghost Sha Butcher appeared. Thank heavens the man was caught, or the Minister might have lost his own head.

The matter of White Lotus Sect cultists slaughtering a street in the capital had reached the emperor's ears, and His Majesty's dragon countenance was enraged. The Commander of the Nine Gates and the Three Judicial Offices each bore half the blame. Sacrificing a few subordinates to take the fall was inevitable. The Minister was currently selecting candidates...

While the Minister worried about his official career and pondered how to maneuver in court to smoothly shift the blame to his underlings, Over at the Six Fan School's Divine Constable Hall, Two people were conversing within.

One was a fair-faced young man in a cloud-embroidered brocade robe, holding a folding fan, drinking wine and singing—a dashing, romantic jade-like gentleman, peerless in lightness skill.

One of the Four Great Constables, Zhuifeng.

The other was a woman with jet-black hair, carrying a sword case on her back. Inside the case were thirteen hidden swords. Her face was like ten-thousand-year-old ice—thirteen cold swords that could freeze blood itself.

One of the Four Great Constables, Xue Ning.

The two had received a secret letter the previous night. After changing horses eighteen times in one night, they had rushed back to the capital to capture the Ghost Sha Butcher.

But as soon as they returned, they heard the man had already been caught.

They had gone to see him. He was now lying in bed, drooling, only able to babble "ah-ba ah-ba." The strike had been precise and ruthless—one blow had turned him into a vegetable.

And the Ghost Sha Butcher's famed treasured weapon, the Ghost-Head Guillotine, had been snapped in a single clean hit.

"This Ghost Sha Butcher is no mere lowlife. He had twenty years of training in his hardened evil arts, enough to rank him among second-rate experts. With his rare guillotine style and a treasured weapon forged from dark iron, even first-rate experts would struggle to go head-to-head with him."

Zhuifeng flipped through case files, waving his fan, sipping fine wine from a jade cup. He looked less like he was handling a case and more like he was visiting a brothel.

Compared to his slacker demeanor, Xue Ning on the other side had no expression at all. She didn't speak, like eternal, unchanging ice, wearing a deadpan face. The two were complete opposites.

Zhuifeng continued:

"Judging by the injuries, the attacker only used one move, taking down the Ghost Sha Butcher—man and blade together. So, if you were to fight the Ghost Sha Butcher, how many moves would it take?"

Xue Ning didn't answer. Instead, she pointed at the broken guillotine.

"What if he didn't use the blade?"

Xue Ning held up one finger, then covered half of it—meaning half a move would be enough.

"What if he did use the blade?"

Xue Ning thought for a moment, then held up three fingers. Three moves.

"The Ghost Sha Butcher, man and blade, was taken down in one move. The attacker is at least a top-tier expert, possibly even a master."

Xue Ning thought again, then pointed at the guillotine once more.

Zhuifeng nodded. "True. With a better weapon or a martial art that counters his, even a first- or second-rate expert could manage it... I'm not good at identifying martial arts. Do you recognize what technique or school this is?"

Xue Ning shook her head.

"Can't tell?"

Xue Ning shook her head again.

"Don't recognize it?"

Xue Ning shook his head again. After remaining silent for so long, he finally spoke his first sentence:

"No moves. Just brute force."

Afternoon, Qingcheng Teahouse.

The chief culprit, Ghost Sha Butcher, had been executed. The Six Fan School had mostly withdrawn, and the shops at Caishikou had resumed normal business.

Lin Shou sat in the teahouse listening to storytelling. Beside him were a few colleagues from the Corpse-Stitching Shop, the Heavenly Cripples and Earthly Maimed—his treat.

"Gents, want some?"

Lin Shou held out a paper bag of snacks.

"Teeth aren't what they used to be. Can't handle anything hard."

"Taishi Workshop's spiced fava beans. Soft as can be."

"Hey, why didn't you say so? Little Nine's got a good heart."

A few old men grinned, took the bag, and shared it among themselves. Soon the aroma wafted out—storytelling just hit different when you had something to munch on.

"Ah, with those White Lotus Sect heretics slaughtering the streets and leaving so many dead, we're going to be swamped again."

A new corpse-stitcher remarked. Beside him, an experienced old hand waved dismissively and chuckled:

"Pfft, the ones who died clean and clear are the easy ones. The worst are those who die without a trace. The Autumn Examination's coming up soon. Once the Examination Hall opens, who knows how many more will drop dead on us."

"How so?"

"Every year, people die in the Examination Hall. Corpses that are a nightmare to stitch. In past Autumn Examinations, that's when corpse-stitchers die the most."

"Huh? Tell me more..."

Lin Shou listened to their chatter for a while. He was about to pour himself some tea when he found the pot empty. He looked around for a waiter to refill it but couldn't spot one.

Fine, I'll do it myself. Lin Shou got up and walked over to the stove. Just as he reached for the kettle of boiling water, a thin, frail little hand reached out at the same time. Their eyes met.

The other person shuddered all over and turned to bolt.

Lin Shou called out from behind:

"Come back. Or I'll find you in the middle of the night."