[“I have a piece of fabric; I need a cheongsam tailored”]

Huo Zhenye flipped through tailor Yan’s ledger. It clearly recorded everyone he’d last seen, who he’d taken measurements for, and how many pieces of fabric he’d received. Only that piece of two-tone, thin fabric was missing. The apprentice said it was like “electric light silk,” meaning it was both light and lustrous. He told Bai Zhun this, and Bai Zhun listened for a long time without speaking, finally saying, “Go.”

The next afternoon, Huo Zhenye drove his car, picked up Bai Zhun, and went to the Changsan Hall in Huile Alley.

The car stopped at the entrance, revealing a section of pink walls and grey tiles, with a few clusters of red flowers leaning over the wall. Inside the gate was a small stage, with carved doors, five-tiered lanterns, and jade-bedecked, pearl-encrusted decor. Standing there, it felt as though time had suddenly rewound a century; no matter how much the outside world innovated or progressed, it had no connection to the world within.

Upon seeing them, a brothel attendant immediately yelled, “Customers!” Then, bowing and scraping, he approached them, first respectfully addressing Bai Zhun, “Seventh Master Bai.” Only then did he turn to Huo Zhenye: “Young Master Huo.” Huo Zhenye’s face was well-known in Shanghai; it had been reported repeatedly during the Courtesan Queen case, so it was no surprise the attendant recognized him. But how did he know Bai Zhun?

Huo Zhenye looked down at Bai Zhun and heard Bai Zhun lazily respond. He’s visited brothels before? When? Hell, was he a regular?!

The attendant led them to the largest private room, where a rosewood bed with a scenic cloud screen stood. On either side were glass palace lanterns. Without waiting for Huo Zhenye to ask, the attendant brought two food boxes and took out twelve small, palm-sized dishes of dim sum: four dry, four fresh, and four candied fruits.

Bai Zhun slowly took a sip of tea and, like a seasoned patron, ordered, “A bowl of almond custard.” The attendant nodded and withdrew.

“When have you been here?” As soon soon as the door closed, Huo Zhenye immediately asked.

“I came with my master,” Bai Zhun chose a sugar-glazed peach slice. No matter how well the dim sum outside was made, it just wasn’t as exquisite as what they had in the brothel.

“With your master?!” Huo Zhenye was stunned. Could his master have taken his apprentice to “break the meat ^[1] lose virginity ”? It wasn’t unheard of, but Huo Zhenye felt a bit short of breath.

Bai Zhun glanced at Huo Zhenye’s expression. “I came with my master to see what women looked like. Only by seeing their appearance can I make them look realistic when I draw.” ‘Besides here, where else could you find women who would let you look for money?’

Huo Zhenye wanted to ask what he had seen, but couldn’t bring himself to.

“What’s wrong? Haven’t you seen them too?” ‘Does Huo Zhenye think he hasn’t seen Western paintings? The men and women in those don’t wear clothes. Seventh Young Master Huo, you’ve even drawn them yourself; how can you say you haven’t seen them?’

“Who said I’ve seen them? What have I seen? I’ve never seen them!” Huo Zhenye vehemently denied.

Bai Zhun propped his head with his hand, his eyes sweeping over Huo Zhenye’s face. He drawled, “Oh, so you haven’t seen them.”

Huo Zhenye choked.

The attendant quickly knocked on the door, bringing in two bowls of almond custard, and asked Bai Zhun, “Seventh Master, are you ordering a play today or calling for a flower wine?” As he spoke, he glanced at Huo Zhenye, thinking, Why does Young Master Huo look so displeased? Could he be here to cause trouble?

“A play,” Bai Zhun said, looking at Huo Zhenye.

Huo Zhenye pulled out his wallet. At a Changsan brothel, tea cost three silver dollars, a play three silver dollars, and flower wine also three silver dollars.

The attendant accepted the money, his face beaming. “Which lady would you two like?”

“Is Little Jinbao in? Call her over.” Bai Zhun leaned back on the couch, casually tossing a candied walnut into his mouth, looking even more dissolute than Huo Zhenye.

Huo Zhenye was furious; he really did order a play.

As the attendant went to call for the play, Huo Zhenye leaned half his body on the small kang table. “Aren’t we here to investigate a case? I wanted to ask that attendant what he knew.”

“What’s the rush? You’ll know later.” As soon as he entered the building, he smelled it—the lingering resentment hidden beneath the floral powder and rouge, swirling and lingering everywhere in the building.

“So that fabric is really strange?”

Bai Zhun didn’t answer.

Little Jinbao entered, holding a pipa. She bowed upon entering. “Seventh Master, shall I continue with ‘The White Snake’ from last time?”

Bai Zhun leaned languidly on the embroidered bolster, glancing at Huo Zhenye. “Since we’re here, later have them prepare a table of private dishes.” Only familiar patrons could enjoy the brothel’s private dishes.

Bai Zhun pulled a blue and white porcelain dish closer to him, showing a little interest in conversation. “You know about the Green Gang, right?” Huo Zhenye, of course, knew them. They were Shanghai’s most famous gang, wielding great power in both business and politics. Most gambling dens, opium dens, and brothels were controlled by the Green Gang. “Back when the Thirteen Factories ^[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thirteen_Factories ruled the docks, even the most senior Green Gang elders—the ones who lit the grand incense at ceremonies—had to address my master with respect as ‘Seventh Master.’” Young masters like Huo Zhenye might not have been able to come to places like this, but Bai Zhun certainly had.

It blew Huo Zhenye’s mind that Bai Zhun was the one getting pleasure from this. He checked his watch periodically. When the “White Snake” play finished, he threw down a generous sum of appreciation money, dismissed Little Jinbao and her pipa, and closed the door.

—-

Little Jinbao, holding her pipa, walked out and handed it to the attendant. She encountered a sister who asked her, “How was it? Did neither of them keep you?” If either had kept her, it would have been a blessing for the night. Forget Seventh Master Bai; just Young Master Huo’s looks and physique drew countless eyes the moment he entered the brothel. After finally ordering a play, they didn’t even ask for flower wine.

Little Jinbao still had a smile on her face inside the room, but once outside, she told her sisters, “You two, don’t even think about getting a piece of this fat meat.” She bit her lip and gestured with both hands. “Those two are a pair.”

What did it matter how properly they sat? Their eyes and expressions couldn’t lie. Seventh Master Bai was distracted, but Young Master Huo’s eyes never left him for an inch.

—-

Finally, peace. Huo Zhenye leaned back, looking directly at Bai Zhun. “How do we find it?”

Bai Zhun bit into a candied cherry, glancing at him. “Not ‘we,’ you go find it. You owe me.”

“Affix a Soul-Chasing Talisman, and your soul will leave your body. Follow the resentment, and you’ll find the truth.”

This was different from seeking Little Kai’s soul. Little Kai had blood relatives to call his soul back. For Huo Zhenye, this carried some risks.

“Then stick it on,” Huo Zhenye moved the small kang table aside and casually lay down beside Bai Zhun.

“Aren’t you afraid?” Bai Zhun gazed at him with dark eyes. The lamplight from the palace lantern cast shadows on Bai Zhun’s face, and points of light danced in his eyes. For a moment, those specks of light seemed about to leap out.

Huo Zhenye chuckled softly, his chest slightly vibrating. “I owe you, don’t I?”

After chuckling, he closed his eyes, letting Bai Zhun do as he pleased. It was their first time being so close, and the faint sandalwood scent from Bai Zhun wafted around his nostrils. Bai Zhun surprisingly didn’t dodge, letting him lie beside him, with only a thin line separating them.

Huo Zhenye slowly moved his hand over, his fingers touching Bai Zhun’s. Bai Zhun’s hand tried to retract, but Huo Zhenye hooked it.

“I’ve thought about it again, and I’m still a little scared.”

Bai Zhun then pursed his lips and didn’t move, acknowledging that he was the one who’d pushed too far. Huo Zhenye closed his eyes, trying not to laugh aloud.

Although there was no sun or moon in this building, the later it got, the heavier the resentment. Bai Zhun kept his eyes closed, resting. As midnight approached, he opened his eyes and lit a stick of incense.

Huo Zhenye smelled a faint, elusive scent of blood. He opened the door and walked out, looking down the stairs. Red lanterns hung everywhere in the building, and sweet, melodious singing filled the air from the stage. The entire building was packed with people seeking pleasure. He stood by the railing on the second floor, his gaze sweeping from top to bottom. After a moment of thought, his eyes locked onto a girl in a red cheongsam. All the other girls were smiling, genuinely or feigned, but only she sat rigidly, her face indistinct.

Huo Zhenye moved through the crowd. Before he could reach her, she vanished. When he found her again, she had already stepped out of the brothel entrance. Huo Zhenye chased after her, and in a blink, he was on Jinxiu Street. The street was deserted, with a pale moon and sparse stars. The entire street was shrouded in mist. A few steps away, he could only see the woman’s red high heels.

*Click, click, click* went the high heels, stopping in front of tailor Yan’s shop. She knocked on the door: “Is my cheongsam ready?” Huo Zhenye held his breath, following closely. A few steps nearer, he could see from her shoes up to her waist, but still couldn’t make out her face. Every time he tried to get closer, she would be enveloped in mist.

Tailor Yan, of course, couldn’t answer her. The woman sighed, “Why isn’t it ready yet?”

With that, she slipped inside. A moment later, she reappeared and knocked on another door.

*Thump, thump, thump.*

This household ignored her. She moved on to the next.

*Thump, thump, thump.*

A rustling sound came from within the door. A voice emerged through the wooden panel. “Who is it?”

“To make a cheongsam,” the woman’s voice was soft and delicate, seeping through the wood. “I have a piece of fabric; I need a cheongsam tailored.”

Huo Zhenye stepped forward. The sky was too dark; he couldn’t see the woman’s face or the fabric in her hands at all. A sliver of light pierced through the wooden door. The tailor slid open the small window on the wooden panel, and the light from an oil lamp shone out.

Huo Zhenye recoiled a step. What the woman held was no fabric at all, but a limp piece of human skin. One side was stark white, the other blood-red, with fresh blood dripping down the skin.

The female ghost suddenly turned her head. She walked towards Huo Zhenye, step by step, grinning, her fingers lightly caressing the dripping “fabric.” “See, isn’t this piece of fabric of mine good?”

Huo Zhenye was frozen. He was fully conscious, but his feet felt stuck to the ground. He looked down and saw that he had followed her the whole way, and his feet were now planted in the drops of blood oozing from the human skin.

The tailor mumbled, “Why is no one here?” Then he gasped, and with a *thwack,* he shut the small window on the door.

There was no light left on the long street, but the sound of high heels kept approaching. Huo Zhenye cursed under his breath. He kicked off his leather shoes and ran barefoot. The woman had been unhurried moments ago, but the instant Huo Zhenye turned to run, she gave chase fiercely. The sound of high heels echoed in Huo Zhenye’s ears; no matter how he ran, he couldn’t shake her off. The woman’s legs moved frantically, and she lunged her head forward in front of Huo Zhenye. “Your fabric is very good too.”

Damn it!

Huo Zhenye, thinking of Bai Zhun, quickly reached the entrance of the Changsan Hall. Upon entering, the inside had completely transformed, as if a wedding banquet was underway. The small stage had become a ceremony platform. A woman in a red cheongsam stood on stage, and everyone was praising her: “This cheongsam is so beautiful, I hear the gold thread is real gold.” “Young Master Qiao really spares no expense.” In the flickering lamplight, the gold and silver embroidery on the cheongsam shimmered.

Huo Zhenye paid no mind to the scene, sprinting upstairs with the woman hot on his heels. Just as she was about to catch him, Huo Zhenye shoved the door open. A *rip* sound echoed behind him. The moment the light from inside the room shone out, the woman vanished.

Huo Zhenye opened his eyes to see Bai Zhun staring at him. He let out a breath, then realized he was tightly clutching Bai Zhun’s hand, sweating profusely, his back completely soaked. He smiled. “I know what that woman looks like now.” When the female ghost leaned her head forward earlier, he saw clearly: she had a mole at the corner of her eye.

Bai Zhun poured him a cup of tea. Huo Zhenye then felt his throat constricting. He sat up and drank the tea in one gulp, only then feeling the emptiness in his back. He turned his head and saw that the entire back of his shirt had been torn off.

Bai Zhun frowned, “Let go.”