Chapter Four: The Infiltration of Malignant Energy

The unusual commotion had also startled two bailiffs patrolling the streets. Recently, the gruesome slaughter of an entire prominent family in Hangzhou had left the populace anxious and afraid. Now, at the slightest disturbance, their nerves were immediately on edge.

The two exchanged a glance. The older one said in a low voice, “Ding Cun, if anything happens, don’t worry about me—report to the higher-ups at once. Understand?”

“But, Chief Sun…” The bailiff named Ding Cun still seemed hesitant.

“Enough with the fuss. Let’s go.” Chief Constable Sun shot him a glare and strode quickly toward the gathering crowd. Pushing aside the curious onlookers, he saw Zhou Bai lying on the ground, blood streaming from his ears, eyes, and nose.

Relieved, yet with the memory of earlier horrors still fresh in his mind, Chief Sun silently cursed himself for being so jumpy. He immediately knelt to check Zhou Bai’s condition.

Several people who knew Zhou Bai dared not withhold the truth and promptly recounted everything they had witnessed.

“It may be broad daylight, but you never know—it could be some evil force at work,” Chief Sun thought to himself. He was no skilled physician, and upon finding no wounds on Zhou Bai, he could only send for the nearby clinic.

“I bet this is that little bastard Cheng Hu’s doing,” declared a brawny man in his forties, whose hands bore thick calluses. His chest heaved as though he’d just run from the other end of the street.

He gripped a cart loaded with a hefty black wild boar, easily weighing five or six hundred pounds.

At his words, the onlookers fell silent. Though the Sea Dog Gang was a minor, lowly group in Hangzhou, on this street in the city’s west, no one dared cross them.

The man continued to curse, “A bunch of ingrates, all keeping quiet! I saw Cheng Hu come out of that alley earlier. Damn it, if anything happens to Zhou Bai, I’ll beat him within an inch of his life!”

Chief Sun pressed his fingers to his temples, exasperated. This man, Wang Lei, had once been a troublemaker himself. After being beaten almost to death over his debts, it was Zhou Bai’s father who had saved his life. Later, Wang Lei had apprenticed with a martial artist outside the city for several years and returned to make a living as a hunter in the outskirts.

When Zhou Bai first inherited the butcher shop, Wang Lei had helped him fend off more than a few minor misfortunes.

“It doesn’t look like an external injury…” Bailiff Ding Cun shrank under Wang Lei’s fierce glare, his voice growing quieter.

Chief Sun shook his head helplessly. “Enough—whatever the case, let’s get young Zhou Bai to the clinic. We can’t afford to delay if something’s wrong.”

“Alright.” Wang Lei’s tense expression eased. He bent down to carry Zhou Bai, but as soon as he touched him, Zhou Bai slowly opened his eyes.

“Are you alright, Jade Qiong?” he asked.

Jade Qiong was Zhou Bai’s courtesy name, meaning “white jade.” Naturally, it wasn’t chosen by his rough-handed father, but rather given by a wandering Daoist who had once passed through Hangzhou.

“I’m fine, Uncle Wang,” Zhou Bai replied, pressing his throbbing head. The world spun around him. “I just need to lie down for a bit—it’s nothing serious.”

Wang Lei protested anxiously, “How can you say it’s nothing? Let’s get you checked at the clinic. If you don’t have the money, Uncle Wang will cover it.”

But Zhou Bai stubbornly shook his head. All he wanted was to find a quiet place to sleep and, when he felt better, figure out what on earth was going on with his system.

With neither willing to yield, Chief Sun had to step in as mediator. “Let’s take him inside to rest first. If his condition worsens, we’ll call for a physician straight away.”

“This boy’s as stubborn as his father—there’s no changing his mind,” Wang Lei sighed, helping Zhou Bai to his feet. Seeing that no tragedy had occurred, the crowd quickly dispersed.

Since there had been no fatalities, Chief Sun did not follow the two. With so many troubles lately, he had no time to deal with trivial matters.

Still, he remained troubled. There were no visible wounds on Zhou Bai, yet he had suddenly collapsed, blood trickling from his orifices. It was a strange and noteworthy occurrence.

Ding Cun, anxious and hesitant, followed behind Chief Sun for a while before finally speaking up.

“Chief Sun… do you think Zhou Bai’s injury could be connected to the massacre at Master Zhang’s mansion?”

At these words, Chief Sun’s expression darkened. “Enough. That mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble one of these days.”

“But those bodies didn’t have any wounds either, and—”

Before Ding Cun could finish, Chief Sun clapped a hand over his mouth and leaned in to whisper, “With Zhou Bai, it’s probably just evil energy entering his body—he saw something unclean, nothing serious. But what happened to Master Zhang’s family is different. That was a haunting by vengeful spirits, understand?”

Ding Cun’s face turned pale. His stomach churned, and it took several deep breaths before he regained his composure.

Master Zhang’s mansion was near Clear River, and he himself was a renowned merchant in Hangzhou. He had made his fortune trading rice, but his reputation was far from good.

Many said that during the rare, devastating drought in Xuzhou three years ago, Master Zhang had profited from the suffering of others. He shipped grain from Yangzhou and Hangzhou to famine-stricken Xuzhou, selling it at exorbitant prices—sometimes charging a family’s entire yearly savings for a single measure of stale rice. Yet those refugees had no choice: buy or starve.

No one realized that Master Zhang had secretly hoarded nearly half of Hangzhou’s surplus grain.

No one knew how many died in that drought, but Master Zhang grew rich beyond measure.

Yet such a wealthy man and his entire household perished overnight in a manner so eerie it sent chills up one’s spine.

It was the daily supplier of fresh goods who first noticed the mansion was deathly silent—not even a dog or chicken could be heard.

When the authorities arrived, the bodies they found within the courtyards and rooms shocked them to the core.

Each corpse was as serene as if merely asleep, with a satisfied smile upon every face. Not a single wound could be found, but their bellies were grotesquely swollen, like women ten months pregnant.

When the coroner cut open the bodies, they were filled with yellow earth—their internal organs had vanished.

Yellow earth caked their fingernails, mouths, and throats. It seemed they had desperately stuffed dirt into their mouths until they burst.

“Chief Sun, do you think this is retribution?” Ding Cun asked with a sigh, clutching his clothes tighter as he suddenly felt a chill.

Chief Sun’s face grew weary. On the surface, Hangzhou seemed calm, but beneath, dark currents surged. He hadn’t slept properly in days. “Perhaps so. But now that it’s happened, there’s no escaping it. All we can do is wait for the officials from the Office of Yin Rites to arrive tomorrow.”