6kv Chapter 76: Remnants of Night's Ashes
Chapter 76: Remnants of Night's Ashes
Two days later, at the third quarter of the hour of Xu (7:45 PM), the autumn night in Qingzhou Prefecture was already deep.
The bustling streets of the day now resembled lifeless snakes, their tendons and bones removed, lying stiffly in the thick, impenetrable darkness. A gust of wind, seemingly emerging from some alleyway, hissed and whistled along the ground, swirling up scattered fallen leaves and remnants of water spilled in front of someone's door. The water, already frozen into a thin layer of ice, shattered into shards by the wind, striking the tightly closed doors with a soft rustling sound, adding to the desolate atmosphere. Most windows were pitch black, with only a few letting through a dim, yellowish light, like the listless eyelids of a sleepy person barely open, reflecting the boundless night outside.
Deep in Yuqian'er Hutong in the east of the city, Zhao Kun was walking hurriedly.
He had changed into civilian clothes: a slightly worn dark brown robe, over which he wore a gray squirrel fur vest, and an inconspicuous six-cornered hat with the brim pulled low, almost obscuring half his face. In this attire, blending into the night, he was no different from an ordinary merchant returning home late from his work. No one would associate this hunched-back, slightly unsteady figure with the gleaming armor, leopard-like eyes, and booming voice of the Demon Suppression Division Chief during the day.
He walked quickly, but his steps felt unsteady, as if he were walking on cotton. The several jugs of strong liquor he had downed in the private room of "Drunken Immortal Pavilion" were now surging to his head, fueled by the burning anxiety and fear in his heart. His temples throbbed, and his vision blurred. He could still hear Dong Bao's trembling, low voice, almost crying, her words echoing in his ears, each syllable like a poisoned icicle piercing his heart.
"...Captain...It's all over...It's all over...That killer Lin Yan...He, he arrived...That bitch Qi Qi...She revealed everything from back then...She said Wu Tiankui was you...You were with her...Dong Cun was captured by them...I risked my life to escape and deliver the message..."
Lin Yan! It's Lin Yan again!
Zhao Kun felt a sudden surge of metallic sweetness rise to his throat. He clenched his teeth, forcing back the blood and saliva, the grinding sound echoing clearly in the quiet alley. He desperately wanted to turn back immediately, rush to the branch headquarters, gather his men, and chop that arrogant little bastard and that old fox Zhou Yan into mincemeat! But he couldn't. The alcohol and rage burned through his body, but deep inside, a small part of him felt icy cold—he knew he had already lost the initiative.
Liu Qiqi... that name is like an old scar that has long since scabbed over, but has been forcibly torn open again, gushing out black blood and pus.
The young woman from Liujia Village stood timidly in Wu Tiankui's room, filled with the stench of sweat, alcohol, and foul language, like a white peony that had strayed into the mire. It was he who, after Wu Tiankui had once again become drunk and violent, secretly slipped her a bottle of wound medicine and whispered a few words of comfort. When she looked up at him, her tear-filled eyes held not only fear but also a faint, desperate dependence, like grasping at a straw. That feeling… was like tiny feathers gently scratching at his heart, which had grown increasingly cold and numb from the beatings and scoldings of his master, the ostracism of his colleagues, and the sordid rules of this cannibalistic government office.
Later… came the frantic, hot breaths in the woodshed, her trembling yet remarkably determined cooperation, and the moment when that "treasure" he had treasured for years, never shown to anyone, came in handy. Wu Tiankui died silently, his face contorted in rage. He naturally took over some of his master's connections and duties, and also brought her out of that repulsive house, settling her in a quiet little courtyard in the west of the city. At that time, she truly relied on him, saw him as a benefactor, and the only warmth in this cold world. She did indeed… give him a brief but real period of tenderness and admiration, the kind of warmth and respect that belonged to "humanity." That feeling of being needed, relied upon, and even… admired was like an oasis in the desert for a roughneck like him, who had crawled out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood, barely surviving through scheming and ruthlessness.
But this sweet spring water could not ultimately withstand the blazing fire of a promising official career.
When he climbed the social ladder to the door of that retired official in the capital and learned that the man intended to take a son-in-law, and that the young lady, though plain-looking, had a wealthy dowry and a distinguished family background, Liu Qiqi's tearful eyes, gentle words, and the unspeakable secrets hidden in the corner of the woodshed all became burdens he had to discard. He abandoned her as if discarding an old garment. Even when the new bride and her men disfigured her, and she cried out that she would die with him, he merely frowned, ordered his men to forcibly drag her away, and send her back to Liu Family Village, the place she had desperately escaped from.
He told himself, "No ruthlessness, no manly strength." In this world, without a ruthless heart, one cannot stand firm. He had already been more than kind to Liu Qiqi, giving her a few years of peace, which was better than her following that beast Wu Tiankui. As for her appearance... a woman without beauty might actually be able to live a quiet and peaceful life in this rural area.
Yet, that lingering soft spot in his heart, belonging to "Zhao Kun" rather than "Captain Zhao," was like a rusty nail embedded in his flesh, causing occasional, dull pain, especially in the dead of night when he was drunk. Therefore, all these years, even though he knew Liu Qiqi was a ticking time bomb, he never truly resolved to "deal with" her. Perhaps, in his subconscious, which he himself hadn't delved into, lingered a laughable sliver of hope, a subtle attachment to that unbearable past that he himself was unwilling to admit.
It wasn't until Mo Laogui and the others died suddenly that Zhou Yan and Lin Yan began investigating the old case, and that chilling feeling, like a blade pressed against his throat, returned. He was horrified to realize that Liu Qiqi knew far too much! Wu Tiankui's death, the source of the poison, even… the secret of this house. She was no longer just a trivial old dream in his heart, but a guillotine hanging over his career and even his life, ready to fall at any moment!
So he dispatched Dong Bao and Dong Cun. These two brothers were outlaws he had recruited years ago; they were skilled and tight-lipped, and had done many shady things for him. He thought dealing with a disfigured, lonely woman hiding in a remote, impoverished area would be a piece of cake. But he never expected Lin Yan to appear out of nowhere!
"Useless! All of you are useless!" Zhao Kun spat out the words through gritted teeth, quickening his pace to almost a jog. The night wind whipped at his face like cold knives, but it did nothing to extinguish the anxiety and fear in his heart. Liu Qiqi had confessed, Dong Cun had been captured, Dong Bao had escaped… Lin Yan was probably currently taking those confessions to Zhou Yan to curry favor! What would they do next? Search? Arrest people? Or would they directly confront Liu Xiong with the confessions, or even… the garrison commander?
No, don't panic. Zhao Kun abruptly stopped, leaning against the cold wall, gasping for breath. Even if Lin Yan and the others obtained Liu Qiqi's confession, it would only be a witness testimony. The key... is the physical evidence! The things in Wu Tiankui's old house's woodshed! The raw materials for the poison, the tools for preparing it, and... the blood crystal stones he had secretly embezzled over the years, which he hadn't been able to hand over or bribe, as well as that ledger recording many secret transactions!
Those things are the irrefutable evidence that can completely nail him down!
We must deal with this immediately! Before they react, while the night is still thick!
Without further hesitation, he determined the direction and turned into a narrower, darker alley. At the end of the alley stood a tall, old wall with peeling, mottled plaster, behind which lay Wu Tiankui's old house, which had long since changed hands.
After Wu Tiankui's sudden death, his family quickly sold off their property and left Qingzhou Prefecture. Everyone assumed it had been bought by some out-of-town merchant and had remained vacant for many years. No one knew that the mysterious buyer was none other than Zhao Kun. He used an alias and, through several layers of ownership, had made the transaction flawless.
Initially, keeping this house might have stemmed from a twisted sense of satisfaction—the victor occupying the loser's lair—or perhaps it was simply to conveniently dispose of the immovable "tools" in the woodshed. Later, as his position under Liu Xiong became more secure and he amassed more wealth, he needed an absolutely secluded hiding place, one that even his bedmate couldn't know about. This eerie, secluded old house became the perfect choice.
He even...kept a mistress here.
She was a girl of only sixteen or seventeen. He couldn't remember her name, only that a matchmaker had bought her from refugees fleeing famine in the north. She was thin, timid, and her eyes looked like those of a frightened rabbit. He bought her several bright clothes, hired a mute old woman to serve her, and settled her in the east wing of the house. His current wife was from an official's family, very proper and jealous, and strictly controlled him, giving him the cold shoulder at the slightest displeasure. But this little girl was different. She feared him and respected him. If he said one thing, she dared not say another. Occasionally, when he was in a good mood, he would smile at her and give her some pocket money, and she would be overwhelmed with gratitude. Her doe-like eyes would reveal complete dependence and ingratiation. This feeling of controlling everything and being absolutely obeyed greatly satisfied the vanity and lust for power that had grown twisted deep within him due to his humble origins and the oppression he had suffered in his early years.
More importantly, the girl was "sensible." He strictly forbade her from going near the backyard, especially the woodshed, and she truly never set foot there, not even asking a question. This "obedience" allowed him to safely hide some truly deadly things there.
Tonight, he didn't care about the girl anymore. He didn't even intend to disturb her and the mute woman. He would climb over the wall, dispose of his things, and leave immediately, without anyone noticing.
The house had a high outer wall, topped with withered weeds. Although Zhao Kun was somewhat old and had been drinking, his foundation at the Profound Realm was still intact. He looked around; the alley was deserted, save for a few weak barks from a dog in the distance. He took a deep breath, gathered his strength, and leaped. He placed his hands on the rough brick wall, used his waist and legs to propel himself, and like a heavy cat, silently scaled the wall and landed in the courtyard.
The courtyard was even darker than the outside. The side rooms were all dark, except for a single, dimly lit lamp hanging under the eaves of the main house. A tiny flame flickered weakly within its glass case, barely illuminating the area a foot or so in front of the door, casting long, short, ghostly, swaying shadows. The courtyard was overgrown with weeds, neglected for a long time. Autumn insects chirped in the grass and cracks in the stones, further emphasizing the deathly silence. Only the pounding of his own heartbeat echoed in his ears like a drum.
He didn't go to the east wing, or even glance at the main house, but tiptoed straight to the backyard. The woodshed was in the far corner of the backyard, right next to the kitchen. It was a low, dilapidated mud-brick house with a large brass lock on the door, which gleamed coldly in the dim light.
Zhao Kun took out the key—a key he never parted with, not even his mistress or the mute woman had it—his fingers trembled slightly from nervousness and the alcohol, and after trying two or three times, he finally opened the lock with a "click." A foul odor, a mixture of moldy wood, dust, and some indescribable, faint herbal scent, rushed towards him.
He slipped inside, gently closing the door behind him, and blew on the tinderbox he carried. The orange, flickering flame barely dispelled the darkness that surrounded him, illuminating the general outline of the woodshed. Piles of dried-out firewood and rotten straw clung to the wall, thick cobwebs covered the corners, and fine dust swirled in the firelight. Everything seemed exactly the same as when he last visited.
His gaze eagerly fell upon the old wooden cabinet against the inner wall, seemingly casually placed but actually concealing a hidden compartment underneath. The raw materials for the poison, neatly categorized and wrapped in oiled paper, were hidden within the compartment. Also hidden beneath it were the small iron box containing the blood crystal and the account book wrapped in several layers of oilcloth.
Once these evidences are dealt with, Liu Qiqi's confession will become the sole piece of evidence. Without physical evidence, no matter how capable Zhou Yan and Lin Yan are, they won't be able to easily touch a mere fifth-rank constable! As for Dong Cun... his confession is that of a desperate criminal; we can insist it was obtained through torture!
Thinking this, Zhao Kun felt a little calmer, and his breathing became easier. Holding the tinderbox, he quickly walked to the wooden cabinet, squatted down, and reached out to feel for the mechanism at the bottom. His fingers touched that familiar indentation, and he was about to press it down forcefully—
"Chief Zhao, what a refined interest you have in the middle of the night!"
A calm, undisturbed voice suddenly rang out from the darkest corner of the woodshed.
The sound wasn't loud, even somewhat gentle, but to Zhao Kun, it was like a thunderclap from a clear sky! His whole body stiffened abruptly, his blood seemed to freeze instantly, even his fingertips stiffened. The tinderbox fell to the ground with a "clatter," scattering a few sparks, the light dimmed abruptly, leaving only a faint, dying red glow that lingered and danced on the ground, twisting and elongating his shadow, casting it on the mottled earthen wall like a frightened, swollen monster.
He turned around abruptly, his movements stiff and sluggish due to extreme terror, and his neck even made a soft "crack" sound.
With the help of the faint light on the ground and the extremely dim darkness filtering in from the window, he could see clearly.
Two figures slowly emerged from the dark corner of the woodshed, a place piled high with rotten straw and the least likely place for anyone to hide.
The man in front, dressed in a slightly worn dark blue robe, with a lean face, three long wisps of beard, and a calm and composed expression, was Zhou Yan, the head of the Demon Suppression Division of Qingzhou Prefecture. He stood with his hands behind his back, looking at Zhao Kun with indifferent eyes, as if he were merely examining a piece of furniture in his own study that he was not entirely satisfied with.
Half a step behind Zhou Yan stood Lin Yan, the young man whom Zhao Kun both hated and feared to the core. He was still wearing that dark blue robe, like two cold stars reflected in a deep, icy pool, his gaze fixed intently on Zhao Kun. What shocked Zhao Kun even more was that Lin Yan was casually flipping through a booklet in his hand. The booklet's cover was made of thick, dark blue paper, its edges worn—it was the ledger he hid in a secret compartment, containing countless hidden records!