Chapter 102: Xia Yu Transferred to the Six Doors, The Maiden’s Reunion After a Shattered Bond

Osmanthus flowers fell idly, and magpies chattered among the branches.

"Marvelous!" Song Mo exclaimed in praise as he savored the rich broth of his small wontons.

"Truly marvelous!" Xia Yu, eyeing Sister Yu as she busied herself, smacked his lips in agreement.

Song Mo followed Xia Yu’s gaze, catching sight of Sister Yu’s lithe, graceful waist and her shoulders, still dusted with the morning dew.

"What are you daydreaming about, fatty?" Song Mo set down his spoon and teased him.

"Do you think a woman like her would ever look twice at a lowly official like me?" Xia Yu withdrew his gaze, though clearly lingering on the thought.

"Hard to say. Maybe," Song Mo replied with a noncommittal shrug.

"What do you think Tang Yi is actually up to? I was doing just fine as the Chief Constable of Changning County—a job with a bright future—so why did he move me to the Six Doors?" Xia Yu popped two wontons into his mouth, burning his tongue and pulling a comical, grimacing face.

"Perhaps he was afraid your talents were being wasted," Song Mo said, his mind elsewhere, offering a perfunctory excuse.

"What’s most infuriating is that Jiang Wanyi from the Demon Suppression Division. She insisted on playing tricks on me and pulled strings to get me transferred to the Corpse Examination Division." Xia Yu looked at Song Mo and said earnestly, "It’s not that I look down on the trade of handling the dead, but look at me—do I look like the kind of man who can handle an embroidery needle?"

Song Mo nodded. Xia Yu wasn't wrong; he wasn't cut out for such delicate work. With his rugged, brawny physique and a style of martial arts that relied on brute force and wide, sweeping movements, if he were actually left alone to light lamps and stitch up corpses, he would likely flee within the hour.

The two finished their wontons and drank the hot broth, feeling a cozy, comfortable warmth spreading through them.

Xia Yu wiped his mouth and lowered his voice. "Do you think if I invited Sister Yu to have tea at the Spring Breeze and Heart’s Desire Pavilion, she’d agree?"

Song Mo was just about to answer when he caught Sister Yu staring at him with a playful glint in her eyes. He shut his mouth and shot Xia Yu a warning look.

To his surprise, the dense-witted Xia Yu didn't catch the hint at all and kept pestering him: "Good brother, I'm talking to you about something important here. Why are you twitching your face like that?"

Well, he was beyond saving.

"I’ll go. Why wouldn't I?" Sister Yu said, pitching her voice delicately.

Xia Yu’s face lit up, then he realized something was wrong. He turned to see Sister Yu smiling coyly, the awkwardness palpable.

Song Mo watched as the hulking, tower-like man blushed furiously, his hands rubbing incessantly under his purple official tunic, nearly wearing the wooden badge at his waist down to sawdust.

"There's work at the yamen. I'm off." Xia Yu grabbed his newly issued broadsword and strode away, completely forgetting that he was supposed to pay for the breakfast.

Only yesterday, Xia Yu had been sighing in the No. 6 Mortuary, before Tang Yi arrived with a transfer order that summoned him to the Six Doors. Even as the lowest-ranking constable, it was still better than being a corpse examiner. He didn't know the reason behind the move, but since it was a good thing, he stopped dwelling on it.

"My brother is a simple soul, Sister Yu; don't tease him so much," Song Mo said, pressing six copper coins onto the table.

"If I don't tease him, should I tease you instead?" Sister Yu glanced at him.

Song Mo grinned, his eyes clear and steady as he looked at her unabashedly.

"Go on, go on, don't hold up my business," Sister Yu scolded with a playful glare.

"As you wish." Song Mo took one last look at her long, shapely legs before walking out of the wonton shop.

...

Green willows lined the clear river, shimmering in the golden light. The Longhe District in the West Market was bustling. Merchants from Wu had arrived in the city, bringing many fine goods. Herbs were spread out along the streets, silks featured new and intricate patterns, and the gold, silver, and jade ornaments were exquisite.

However, the liveliest spot was an open space at the corner of the street. From afar, Song Mo saw a crowd gathered around an area cordoned off by white silk ropes.

In the center, a middle-aged man was beating a gong and shouting, "Magic tricks! Come see the magic tricks!"

The man was clumsy, only capable of shouting loudly; he couldn't announce the acts or perform any flair. What truly drew the crowd was the young girl standing beside him. She was about sixteen, slight of build, dressed in a green tunic with a tied waist and two long tassels. Her appearance was striking.

Her brows were delicate, her expression soft, and her slight frown was enough to stir pity. In short, she was a true beauty.

Seeing the crowd grow, the girl prepared to speak but was overcome by a fit of coughing, which she muffled with a white handkerchief embroidered with lotus flowers. Song Mo, sharp-eyed, noticed that when she pulled the handkerchief away, the lotus petals on the embroidery appeared significantly redder.

The girl spoke, her voice so light it seemed a breeze could carry it away. "Kind patrons, my father and I have come from Jinling. Our funds are exhausted, and we have no choice but to earn our way with these street performances. We hope you will be generous and spare a coin. We are deeply grateful."

Lowering her gaze, she continued, "I learned a few amateur tricks from my master. I hope you will not laugh at my clumsiness."

With that, she took a long scarf and a pair of scissors from her father. The scarf was about half a foot long. She held it up for the crowd to see, then folded it in half. In full view of everyone, she took the scissors and cut it in two.

The middle-aged man held the two pieces, showed them to the crowd, and handed them back to the girl. She balled the two pieces in her hand and muttered something under her breath—too softly for Song Mo to hear.

In less than three seconds, she flicked the scarf. A strange thing happened: the scarf, which had clearly been cut in two, was now perfectly restored to its original length.

The crowd erupted. Some claimed the man had swapped the scarf; others insisted the girl had. But Song Mo, with his trained appraiser's eye, saw clearly that the pieces had never been switched. Yet, somehow, they had been restored in her hands. He knew then that she was, in all likelihood, a master of the "Color Gate"—the art of sleight of hand.

Amidst the noise of the crowd, Song Mo heard a raspy, elderly voice. "The little girl has real skill. To be so proficient in the 'Broken Mirror Rejoined' trick, which few even know of... the next generation is truly fearsome."

Song Mo frowned and looked toward the voice, freezing in his tracks. He recognized the speaker: the blind old man accompanied by a young boy. They were the same two he had seen at the tailor shop.

The scarf trick had warmed up the crowd, but it clearly wasn't enough to satisfy the idle gentlemen of Jian'an. People discussed and gossiped, but no one was willing to toss a single copper coin.

*Clang.* A crisp sound rang out as a five-tael ingot of pure silver landed on the ground.

"Whoa, what a generous hand!" someone gasped.

No one knew who had tossed the silver. The onlookers scanned the crowd, but no one stepped forward to claim the deed. The girl, however, cast a look of gratitude toward Song Mo, and the old blind man also glanced at him, whether intentionally or not.