Qu Fengyin held his breath, both hands forming hand seals as his true qi surged upward. A misty white vapor rose from above his head.
The Hei Yi were still pursuing from behind. As he circulated his energy, he climbed up the wooden ladder of the Library Pavilion.
Light streamed through the window panes, falling upon Qu Fengyin’s grimacing face.
The heat radiated outward, his resolute features melting like wax under fire, his flowing skin resembling a sticky swamp bubbling and pulsating on his face.
“Stop right there!”
The pursuing Hei Yi shouted in unison every two breaths.
Qu Fengyin felt an intense burning sensation crawling wildly across his cheek. He struggled to recall that face, the way that person should look.
“Stop!”
The footsteps of the Hei Yi constables were rhythmically aligned, each step marking a closer approach. The sound was crisp and forceful, as if it might stomp a hole through the wooden stairs.
Half of Qu Fengyin’s face twitched uncontrollably. Gritting his teeth, he swallowed back his painful sobs.
A black outer robe was thrown down from above.
“Stop!”
The Hei Yi constables drew their blades simultaneously, a sharp sound cutting through the air as cloth strips were sliced into thin threads and scattered.
Qu Fengyin grabbed the wooden railing, bracing his slender waist with effort, and swung his entire body, leaping into one of the floors of the Library Pavilion.
The Hei Yi constables paused, looking upward. The staircases of the pavilion overlapped in layers, light shining straight through, dust swirling chaotically in the air.
There was no trace of Qu Fengyin.
The Hei Yi constables stopped on a certain floor of the Library Pavilion.
They showed no panic or agitation. Their cold faces were resolute and unwavering. Grasping the knives at their waists, they entered that floor of the Library Pavilion in an orderly and methodical manner.
Qu Fengyin’s breathing was chaotic, exhaling hot breath.
The hurried footsteps fell silently on the wooden floor of the pavilion, like a cat’s paw.
He weaved among the bookshelves. His face flashed between the gaps of books like a stirring color palette.
First the eyes, then the nose, and finally the mouth.
For Qu Fengyin, the little trick of changing faces lay in the analysis and control of the facial structure; too much detail would be too heavy, too little too light.
The overall style and shaping of the face were easy to get wrong by a fraction and lose by miles.
His tall, sturdy body was also covered with pustules of various sizes, swollen until transparent, as if one could see the liquid inside.
The fluttering edges of the constables’ robes brushed past the bookshelves. Their sharp eyes, like hawks and falcons, searched for any anomaly in the Library Pavilion.
More importantly, it was about temperament. The air of a Shusheng was entirely at odds with that of the Eagle Dog Claw of the court.
Qu Fengyin exhaled a mouthful of stale breath. His clothes rapidly changed, and his bone structure reshaped.
He passed through the shelves and turned a corner.
A slender, tall frame was now clad in a pure white scholar’s long robe. He casually pulled a bamboo slip from the Library Pavilion’s shelves. His rapid panting instantly calmed, followed by long, steady breaths.
Long eyelashes, like crow feathers, drooped down. His hands opened the bamboo slip, his knuckles faintly tinged pink.
The fine straps of the scholar’s cap hung neatly behind his head. His posture was upright, his spine like bamboo. Standing before the bookshelf, he looked every inch a passionate bookworm.
Anywhere, this would be a model scholar.
He raised his eyes slightly, as if hearing a sound, and turned his head.
The Hei Yi constables stopped, bowed their heads politely, and spoke in unison:
“Sir, please cooperate with our identity verification.”
The scholar who had been called was quite surprised, raising his head and closing the book he was flipping through.
He replaced the book on the shelf, not a wrinkle on his clothes, tidied his sleeves, and cupped his hands in salute.
“I shall cooperate fully.”
***
Qu Fengyin’s seemingly calm gaze fell on the origami bird at the foot of the bookshelf.
But inside, his mind exploded. He wondered, what is this? How could an origami bird appear here? It felt as strange as seeing a huge red lantern on a sword rack.
This was just a county town, nestled deep within the remote mountains and forests of Nan Zhou.
Yet many Jinyiwei who came to investigate had vanished without a trace, usually disappearing within a month, never to be heard from again.
This county town was definitely no ordinary place.
Qu Fengyin squinted his eyes and thought for a long while before turning calmly.
He furrowed his brow slightly, fingertips trembling as he noticed at the end of the narrow path carved between the bookshelves, a small child dressed in scholar’s clothing had appeared unnoticed.
A toddler, wearing a broad-sleeved indigo robe, rosy lips and white teeth, with the appearance of a little immortal child.
His bright, clever eyes fixed steadily on Qu Fengyin. Despite his young age, he exuded an aura steeped in scholarly fragrance.
Cold sweat broke out on Qu Fengyin’s head.
When exactly had the child arrived? Before or after his face transformation?
The Hei Yi constables were not far away from here. In fact, Qu Fengyin was deliberately disguising himself as an ordinary Shusheng to sneak through unnoticed, quietly lying in wait.
Had the child seen him?
Had he discovered the truth?
The long hook hidden in Qu Fengyin’s sleeve slowly slid into his palm, and he calmly met the child’s gaze.
There were a dozen or so steps between them. Qu Fengyin could not kill with a single strike. His fingers curled slightly, showing some anxiety.
Qu Fengyin faintly heard the Hei Yi constables’ interrogation nearby.
The child smiled gently, cupping his hands: “Good day, sir. The student greets you.”
Qu Fengyin could only force a friendly smile and returned the salute.
The child’s smile deepened, tilting his head as if pondering, then said, “Hiss—sir’s face…”
Qu Fengyin’s smile stiffened, his Adam’s apple bobbed, and his breathing softened.
“Why is it so red?”
Qu Fengyin let out a slight sigh of relief.
It seemed he hadn’t been discovered.
He calmly explained, “Perhaps the Library Pavilion is stuffy, causing the redness.”
“Ah—” The child dragged out the sound, crossing his arms with a puzzled expression again: “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a…”
Qu Fengyin couldn’t help but draw in a breath.
Could it be they had secret methods to distinguish their own?
If he were recognized…
His cheek twitched as he tried to edge closer without showing it.
“Hey, maybe it’s just that the student is poor at recognizing faces, so I didn’t know you, sir.” The child promptly bowed apologetically: “The student is at fault.”
Qu Fengyin bit back a breath, his expression slightly stiff, but he had to reply: “It’s no matter, no matter.”
The child’s lips curved upward as he pointed to the origami bird in the corner of the bookshelf: “The student came looking for a companion.”
“Companion?” Qu Fengyin paused, turning his head to look at the little bird that had somehow appeared in the corner of the bookshelf.
The bird was folded from some unknown kind of paper, angular and crisp. The snowy white body bore ink characters, roughly readable as “Dao” and “Wu,” among other small words.
The eyes were ink-painted with a hollow center, giving the bird a lively look.
The child nodded at Qu Fengyin’s words, face filled with joy: “That’s right. This bird is named Ling Lingqi. The student’s lifelong friend, accidentally lost here before but fortunately found again.”
The innocent child sighed with relief, eyes full of naïve joy when speaking of his friend.
This reminded Qu Fengyin of the child of a colleague.
When he once visited his colleague’s home on official business, a four or five-year-old boy clung to his father, wanting to play as knights battling monsters — such pure and simple childish innocence.
Qu Fengyin allowed himself to relax a little.
This was a serious matter. He must first send this child away. He faintly felt the child’s presence here might become a variable.
Qu Fengyin’s thoughts raced, though only moments passed on the surface. He looked at the child and smiled: “Then I’ll help you carry it over.”
The child’s eyes lit up happily, nodding vigorously with a hint of excitement: “Thank you, sir!”
Qu Fengyin turned and took a few steps forward.
He thought to himself: not discovered, this disguise seems feasible.
He bent carefully to pick up the origami bird, when suddenly the child exclaimed.
“I play in the Library Pavilion every day and have the favor of the Little Clerk, serving as a small secretary.”
The sound of pages turning came from behind. Qu Fengyin’s movement stalled, his Adam’s apple moving tensely.
“Um… In the student’s registry, sir doesn’t seem to appear at all?”
Qu Fengyin stood straight, clutching the origami bird, his fingers curling slightly. Cold sweat trickled down the side of his face into his collar.
Had he been discovered after all?
He could not hesitate any longer. The struggle on his face flickered briefly, replaced by firm resolve.
The Hei Yi constables were nearby. Their abilities were difficult for Qu Fengyin to contend with. Since entering the county town, he had been separated from his companions.
If captured, escape would be impossible… Qu Fengyin absolutely refused to accept that outcome.
As he handed over the bird…
A dark gleam flashed in his eyes.
He still spoke in a low voice, attempting to explain: “Perhaps the Little Clerk made a mistake?”
“Is that so?”
The sound of flipping pages was slow and deliberate, tinged with slight suspicion: “But I’ve almost flipped through the entire book, and still can’t find…”
Qu Fengyin quietly turned around, his pupils shrinking.
The child raised his eyes slightly. The book in his hands lay open. His voice was tinged with laziness: “Sir’s name?”
Behind him, two Hei Yi constables stood silently, their faces identical—eyebrows, nose bridges, lips—no differences, expressionless as they stared at Qu Fengyin.
Then a third, a fourth, a fifth identical face emerged from behind.
The five identical faces pressed closely together like a flower in full but disastrous bloom.
The light in the corner of the Library Pavilion was dim, shadows slanting gloomily across their faces, outlining them. Their cold, bone-porcelain white faces exuded a quiet, eerie chill.
Those five faces bowed their heads in unison, so precisely aligned it was as if their thoughts were connected, their souls entwined.
They all scrutinized the registry book in the Little Clerk’s hand, resembling a terrifying scene from a horror story.
Qu Fengyin’s breath caught, his heart sinking into an abyss.
Among the five faces, the smiling child held a brush in one hand and lifted the book with the other: “Do you have any clues about this?”
Even if Qu Fengyin were foolish, he understood now that the child had seen through his entire disguise from start to finish, possibly watching coldly the whole time.
He had been played by a seven or eight-year-old child!
Qu Fengyin took several breaths, calming his mind, lowering his gaze to the origami bird in his hand. It almost felt like the bird’s eye was watching him back, a strange sensation.
He steadied himself. The side effects of frequently using his abilities were starting to affect him.
Qu Fengyin exhaled a slow breath, looked up at the oppressive scene before him, feelings mixed.
“Here, your companion.” Qu Fengyin sighed, tossing the origami bird back.
Ling Lingqi landed precisely in the child’s arms. The child caught the origami bird and raised an eyebrow at him.
Qu Fengyin smiled bitterly.
A bet was a bet; he could only blame himself for unskilled craft and for hoping to get lucky.
The silent five hyenas stared at Qu Fengyin, baring their fangs: “Sir, please cooperate with our identity verification.”