Chapter Thirty-Two: The Fox Spirit Steals a Heart

Page 1 (of 3)

Zhou Qian, unable to bear the scene any longer, casually seized a long pole that had been swept toward him. The pole trembled like a rain shower as he unleashed the move "Falling Rain," scattering it over the crowd. Instantly, the group clutched their wrists and ankles, crying out in pain. Fortunately, Zhou Qian showed restraint—none of them suffered more than temporary weakness in their limbs.

“Who are you people? Why are you brawling here?” the seasoned constable barked in a low voice, slapping the water-fire staff in his hand.

The old saying goes: the King is easy to deal with, but his underlings are hard to please. These humble folk might not know the name of the Emperor, but they still hold considerable respect for those who provide their livelihood. Two leaders from each group stepped forward and, in fits and starts, explained the situation.

It turned out both groups were fishermen living near the city moat. They survived by fishing and clearing the river of weeds, for which the authorities provided some compensation. As winter approached, fishing became harder. Yesterday, both groups discovered that all their catch had vanished, leaving behind only traces of blood. As rivals, they suspected each other, accusations flew between East and West, and the conflict escalated, culminating in the brawl.

“Oh? When were your fish stolen?” Song Ci asked.

“A little after noon!” both leaders replied.

“That’s precisely when I estimate Miss Xiaoyue died,” Song Ci whispered to Zhou Qian.

“Have you seen a girl about eleven years old, named Xiaoyue? She should have come here today.”

“Are you talking about the little girl who sells fish every day? She comes every three days to buy some river weeds to feed her pigs. By my reckoning, yesterday should have been her day, but she didn’t show up,” a fisherman replied.

“Oh? That’s a clue,” Song Ci murmured thoughtfully.

After the constables dispersed the fishermen, the old constable asked, “Sir, what should we do next?”

“Let’s go to the scene of the crime first.”

The four followed the riverbank and soon arrived at the site, guarded by constables. After verifying their credentials, they entered. A long trail of blood stretched across the ground, surrounded by tangled weeds.

“Just as I thought,” Song Ci said, gently touching the dried blood with his fingers and rubbing them together. “One side is hardened and black, the other still damp. This is hot, fresh blood spurting from the heart—it doesn't dissipate easily.”

“Judging from the blood, the steps are disordered. After Xiaoyue was attacked from behind, she likely lost consciousness, her body moving forward without awareness.”

“How is that possible?” another constable exclaimed in horror. “No one can walk without mind—unless possessed by a fox spirit!”

“What you say isn’t impossible, but two conditions must be met: a lightning-fast claw strike, and a method to seal the blood flow of the organs. Only then could such a thing happen. Yet, even my own master couldn’t achieve that; perhaps only a fox spirit could…”

“But tales of monsters and spirits are just legends—we’ve never seen such things. Master Song, please don’t indulge in the supernatural,” the old constable shook his head.

“My task is simply to seek evidence and deduce logically. Whether the truth aligns with common sense is not for me to predict,” Song Ci replied calmly.

Page 2 (of 3)

The four searched the area again, but found not a single clue. Night had fallen, so Zhou Qian escorted Song Ci and the others back to the magistrate’s office, agreeing to continue the investigation the next day.

“Rest assured, Young Hero Zhou. Song Ci has always seen every matter through to the end. Though the way of heaven may be obscure, it still leaves a faint thread of hope. That’s thirty years of experience as a coroner, so take heart!” Song Ci comforted Zhou Qian, seeing his dejected expression.

“I will remember your words,” Zhou Qian replied, bowing absentmindedly.

Back at the Hu’er Residence, Zhao’er gently wiped Zhou Qian’s face with a warm towel, soothing him. “The Commandant of Five Cities has posted notices and dispatched light cavalry everywhere. Surely the culprit will be caught.”

“I hope so, Sister Zhao’er, you—”

Suddenly, the sound of drums and gongs echoed from outside, along with shouts, hoofbeats, and the crash of collapsing houses. Zhou Qian’s expression tightened. He reached out and drew a sword that glowed faintly blue—a treasured blade called Jue Guang, forged from refined steel mixed with blue sand, which gave it its nighttime glow. It was Zhou Qian’s reward for mastering his swordplay to the point where water could not penetrate and sword light flashed everywhere.

Rushing outside, Zhou Qian glimpsed only the corner of a robe and heard his master Zhou Xun’s low command, “Go back! Wait for my return!”

With no choice, Zhou Qian returned inside, disappointed. About half an hour later, the main gate of the Hu’er Residence opened with a loud sound. Zhou Qian perked up and hurried to meet them. Zhou Xun led the way, carrying a long package, his face somber; behind him followed Fei Wuji, the Magistrate of Luodu, and several soldiers. “You wait outside!” Fei Wuji ordered, wiping sweat from his brow as he saw Zhou Xun stride ahead. Spotting Zhou Qian, Fei Wuji quickly greeted him, “Sorry to have disturbed you, Young Zhou. The fault is mine.”

Zhou Qian nodded and said, “Magistrate Fei, please, let’s go to my master’s study,” helping Fei Wuji out of an awkward situation.

Fei Wuji glanced at Zhou Qian gratefully. As they entered, they saw Old Sun bent over, softly advising Zhou Xun, who replied with a cold snort and sarcastically said to Fei Wuji, “Fine soldiers you bring, Magistrate Fei—hundreds blocked the west yet let that creature escape. Truly a masterful commander!”

“The realm has enjoyed peace for so long, especially the South, where war is unknown. The garrison’s training has grown lax, it’s no surprise…”

“Hmph! Does that mean it’s none of your concern as Magistrate? The Divine Machine, Brave Soldiers, and Heavenly Strategy Battalions once conquered the world in glory, yet now they can’t catch a heart-stealing thief?”

“Master, Mr. Song Ci and Master Lu Xu are here to visit. They’re waiting at the front gate,” Zhao’er’s melodious voice called from outside.

“Let them in!”

Song Ci’s features were somewhat homely, with a blue-tinged complexion, fitting his role as a coroner. Lu Xu, in contrast, had a fair, youthful face, dressed in Daoist robes, headscarf, and hemp shoes, always smiling gently.

“You’re here!” Zhou Xun snapped.

Lu Xu simply smiled, while Song Ci knelt respectfully, “Greetings, benefactor!”

“Haha! The young son of the Song Constable from Qinghe is now famous across the land,” Zhou Xun remarked.

“The youthful hero of those years has become the foremost figure in the martial world,” Song Ci replied.

Page 3 (of 3)

“All right, enough flattery. Help me examine this thing,” Zhou Xun said, opening the package.

Inside was a severed arm, covered in green scales the size of fingernails. The hand resembled a chicken’s claw, webbed and monstrous, its fingers unconsciously flexing.

Lu Xu showed no disgust and leaned in to examine it carefully, while Song Ci exclaimed, “What is this?”

“I don’t know either,” Zhou Xun shook his head. “The creature was a burly man, digging out hearts. When I fought him, his strength was immense, but he showed no martial skill. After I subdued him, he roared, his body shrank, and escaped in my carelessness, leaving only this grotesque arm.”

“Could it be Bone-Shrinking Technique or some poison skill?” Fei Wuji interjected.

“Impossible. Bone-Shrinking Technique relies on dislocating bones, while poison skills, though varied, merely toughen the body or numb pain. None could produce scales out of thin air or such transformation!” Zhou Xun shook his head.

“I actually know its origin,” Lu Xu said suddenly.

“Oh?” The others perked up.

“My family’s heritage is profound, tracing back to the Spring and Autumn period. Elders claim an ancestor was a sword immortal, so I’ve been fascinated by tales of gods and spirits since childhood, searching ancient texts in hopes of riding the clouds and cranes like them. Now, in old age, I’ve achieved nothing, but the research wasn’t wasted. For example, in my medical treatise’s chapter on exotic beasts, I’ve compiled ancient records of monstrous birds and demonic creatures.”

Lu Xu continued, “This creature resembles the servants bred by the demon sects among the immortals, known as ‘Jie’—immensely strong, able to ride black clouds and breathe poisonous smoke.”

“But this thing only shows brute strength, and you say even the immortals have demonic members? Can they be called immortals?” Zhou Xun was surprised.

“Brother Zhou misunderstands. We call them immortals since they can soar to the heavens, sweep through the underworld, burn the sky, and boil the sea. They themselves claim to be Daoist practitioners, seeking unity of body and Dao, eternal and undying.”

“As for the demon sect, it’s a radical branch among the Daoists, seeking to seize the world’s essence for their own cultivation, opposing heaven’s will with human will. They are not petty criminals, but their methods are reckless—even orthodox Daoists shun them as outcasts. That’s the distinction.”

“If what you say is true, why would this ‘Jie’ come to the mortal realm, harming people and eating hearts?” Fei Wuji frowned, clearly dubious—scholars always keep a respectful distance from the supernatural.

“It’s said that after the First Emperor of Qin unified the land, he obtained a mysterious book and sought immortality with the strength of the nation. Three thousand magicians served in the Epang Palace, and all the gold and iron in the realm was used to forge the Twelve Golden Men formation. Though he failed, I believe the emperor’s talent brought some results—perhaps this creature is from the tomb of the First Emperor,” Lu Xu said meaningfully.