[Do men have to like women to be considered normal?]

Huo Zhenye ambled back to Yuqing Alley, a box of coffee cake in hand. A Xiu slipped out to open the door for him, then darted back into her room. The master was in a terrible mood, and everyone was subdued. Even the little yellow bird was well-behaved, not daring to provoke the red-crowned canary. It stood far off on the rafters, twisting its head and wagging its tail, hoping the red-crowned canary would spare it a glance.

Bai Zhun sat at the table, two small dishes and a bowl of plain congee before him. When Huo Zhenye returned, he didn’t even lift an eyelid. He scooped a spoonful of congee with a porcelain spoon, brought it to his lips, and gently blew on it.

“Why are you eating plain congee?” Huo Zhenye frowned, then criticized the scarcity of side dishes. “This pickled cucumber isn’t good either. When I go back tomorrow, I’ll have Aunt Liu make you some.”

Bai Zhun still ignored him. Huo Zhenye sat down opposite him and waited for a long time, but Ah Xiu didn’t bring him chopsticks and a bowl. It was then that he sensed the atmosphere was off. “What’s wrong?” He thought for a moment and then realized. Bai Zhun’s senior brother had just died. Although it was the senior brother’s own fault, he was still Bai Zhun’s senior brother, so it was normal for Bai Zhun to feel upset. “Do you want to hold a funeral?”

Bai Zhun put down his spoon, used the tip of a chopstick to pick up a piece of pickled cucumber, and put it in his mouth.

“Don’t eat that anymore,” Huo Zhenye said, rolling up his sleeves and taking the congee away. “You eat this first. Even if you’re eating vegetarian, this isn’t how you do it.” He offered him a piece of coffee cake, but fearing he’d eat too much, he cut it in half.

Bai Zhun scraped a bit of coffee cream with a small spoon, watched Huo Zhenye leave, and soon he returned with a table full of vegetarian dishes: mock crab, stir-fried Manchurian wild rice ^[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zizania_latifolia, and watershield soup. Three bowls of dishes were placed before him, and Bai Zhun glanced at them.

“Even monks eat eggs, so it’s vegetarian, right?” Bai Zhun’s body needed eggs and milk, even if he didn’t eat meat.

Seventh Master Bai condescended, using the tip of his chopstick to pick up a bit of the mock crab. The egg whites and yolks were stir-fried separately, with salted egg yolk and ginger vinegar added to create a crabmeat flavor.

“How is it? Not bad, right? This should actually be made with yellow croaker meat. If you like it, you can try the fish version later.” Huo Zhenye’s eyes were full of smiles, seeming to glow under the light, his eyes exceptionally bright.

Bai Zhun glanced at him. Is meeting someone really enough to make him this happy?

The little yellow bird paced back and forth on the rafters, looking down at the two people at the table. One sat ramrod straight, picking rice grains with chopsticks, while the other leaned forward. It flapped its wings and zipped to the side of the cage, craning its neck, trying to touch the bird inside with its beak.

Huo Zhenye was still smiling. Bai Zhun swept a glance at him, then *thwack*– put down his chopsticks with a sharp sound. The bamboo wheelchair rolled into the room.

“Is he… angry?” Huo Zhenye asked the two rows of paper figures. All the paper figures looked down, contemplating their navels. Huo Zhenye had no choice but to stand up and follow him into the room. “What’s wrong?”

Bai Zhun didn’t answer. With a bamboo knife in one hand and bamboo scissors in the other, he cut red paper and tailored wedding robes.

Huo Zhenye accompanied him under the lamp, using a bamboo strip to split bamboo threads. The only sound in the room was the soft crackle of the lamp wick. Bai Zhun watched Huo Zhenye’s wrist turn lightly, splitting the bamboo threads thinly and long, bending and turning without breaking. That nameless anger in his heart actually dissipated a little.

The two sat in silence for a while. Huo Zhenye said, “Xihong’s body needs to be kept for two more days. The Qiao family paid for the funeral expenses and wants to choose a good burial plot for her. Why don’t you rest for two days? You can stitch her skin back up once you’ve recovered your energy.”

“It must be stitched before the Ghost Festival.” And Mrs. Song. Her soul couldn’t be allowed to wander in the mortal world. He needed to send her on her way during the Ghost Festival.

Huo Zhenye saw Bai Zhun’s face turn even paler, and he worked faster. If he could do more, Bai Zhun would have to exert less energy. With one cut, he pulled the wound, and let out a soft gasp.

Bai Zhun tapped his shoulder with the bamboo strip: “Gently, use your wrist strength.”

That tap on Huo Zhenye’s shoulder made his heart pound. He turned around and grasped the bamboo strip, a thin piece of bamboo connecting the two of them. “Do you think it’s only normal for men to like women?” His gaze was fixed straight on Bai Zhun, without any evasion.

The nameless anger in Bai Zhun’s heart flared up again. He snatched the bamboo strip away. How dare he even ask that?

“That’s how human relations are; it’s about yin and yang in harmony.” Bai Zhun’s face was grim. What is so good about that little doctor? He looks so soft and gentle. Does he like him because he resembles a woman?

Huo Zhenye was stunned. He hadn’t expected Bai Zhun to be so resolute. But then again, Seventh Branch was fundamentally about balancing yin and yang. How could Bai Zhun go against what he had learned his entire life? Huo Zhenye’s grip loosened, and the bamboo strip slid away. He sat dispiritedly under the lamp, splitting bamboo threads intermittently, and pasting red paper onto the bamboo strips.

Bai Zhun saw him looking dejected and felt satisfied. He finished cutting the paper clothes and returned to his room to sleep.

Huo Zhenye, however, sat on the corridor bed, gazing at the moonlit courtyard, sighing deeply. Finally, Seventh Young Master Huo understood. Who cares? He likes Bai Zhun anyway.

The next morning, Huo Zhenye quietly left. Bai Zhun had to clean up Bai Li’s mess: Xihong, Song Ying, and Tailor Zhou. Huo Zhenye needed to make a trip to the police station.

The moment Huo Zhenye closed the door, Bai Zhun opened his eyes. He hadn’t slept well all night, listening to Huo Zhenye tossing and turning behind the wall. So early in the morning, already so eager to see that little doctor?

Without his master needing to speak, the little yellow bird flew out of the courtyard, landed on Huo Zhenye’s shoulder, and pecked him indignantly. Huo Zhenye stroked its head. The little yellow bird followed Huo Zhenye to the police station. When Da Tou saw Huo Zhenye, he grinned. “Young Master Huo! Have you read the newspapers lately?”

Bai Zhun didn’t subscribe to newspapers, so of course, Huo Zhenye hadn’t read them. But seeing Da Tou’s expression, it seemed like good news. Huo Zhenye chuckled and asked, “What? Did the newspaper commend you?”

Da Tou shook his head and pulled out a stack of newspapers. “Not me, Young Master Huo, you’ve become famous!”

Huo Zhenye was already famous. The “Courtesan Queen” incident had caused a sensation throughout the city; which newspaper didn’t write a few lines about him? That one case had filled the pockets of several newspaper offices. He reached out and took the newspaper. It was a small paper with an unfamiliar name. Huo Zhenye casually flipped through it and saw large, inky characters: “Playboy Turns Detective, Solves Series of Bizarre Cases After Courtesan Queen Incident.”

Huo Zhenye scanned ten lines at a glance, frowning more and more as he read. This was a story-based report. The protagonist wasn’t named but was given the nickname “Seventh Young Master.” It described how he squandered money, how he became embroiled in bizarre cases, and how he displayed immense power to find the culprit and vindicate himself. Some sentences in it looked very familiar, either taken from Sherlock Holmes or from Charlie Chan Detective Series. The writing was rough, but the story was peculiar. This tabloid reporter wrote that Seventh Young Master could communicate with spirits and solved cases through spiritual means.

Although it was a pseudonym, it was instantly obvious that the prototype was Huo Zhenye; even Da Tou figured it out. “Young Master Huo, tomorrow is the grand finale of the Song Fusheng couple’s case. This newspaper is quite popular now.”

“What is all this nonsense?” Huo Zhenye glanced at the newspaper and threw it onto the table. Even the fact that Song Fusheng went to the church to ask for holy water had been dug up by this reporter. The newspaper’s reports also began to use words like “Satan” and “devil.” No need to ask, this must have been Father Brown’s statements.

Perfect timing, too, for Shanghai’s populace, after seeing so many Chinese ghosts, to now witness a foreign demon.

“Has Song Fusheng been released?” Huo Zhenye asked with concern.

“He’s been out for ages,” Da Tou whispered, sounding mysterious. “Chief Constable Song made a huge fortune off him!” He had practically bled Song Fusheng dry. Da Tou finished with a sigh, “It’s just… Song Fusheng seems to have gone mad.”

“Seems?”

“He’s clear-headed when you talk to him, but he keeps waiting outside 77 San Guan Tang Road.” In just a few days, he’d become ragged, wandering the streets like a beggar. The police station had received several reports of him chasing a family of three on the road, and he was even bullied by real street beggars.

Da Tou said, “I’ve sent him back a few times, but he always ran off before we reached the door.”

It was unknown whether Song Fusheng wanted to settle a score with Bai Li or wanted Bai Li to conjure another wife for him. Huo Zhenye listened, silent for a moment, then patted Da Tou’s shoulder. “Tell the brothers that if anyone sees him again, take him to get a bath and a meal. It’s on me.”

“Young Master Huo, you’re truly a good person.” In times like these, who would care for someone with no family or connections?

“Oh, right! That kidnapper caught in Hongkou, the one who killed Song Mingjie, he died in prison. They say it was suicide.” This happened days ago, but the Hongkou case remained unsolved. No one had entered or left the warehouse, the skylight was so high, and those three kidnappers had died such gruesome deaths. Hongkou officially concluded it was infighting among the kidnappers, with the mad one killing the other three, then committing suicide in prison. That’s how the case was closed.

“What about Xihong’s case?”

“That case is still stuck in a legal wrangle. Changsan Hall is in the Old City Quarter, while the Qiao family is in the concession. And Xihong’s indenture contract complicates everything.” The two sides used different laws. Da Tou found it odd that wealthy people like the Qiao family, who owned a dozen small cargo ships at the docks, hadn’t used money to resolve it. Huo Zhenye curled his lips into a smile. The Qiaos were afraid the corpse might climb into their garden again, bury itself under a tree, and leave the whole family with no peace.

“That Young Madam Qiao has already announced her divorce from Young Master Qiao in the newspaper.” Da Tou heard the Qiao family gave the young madam a sum of money. He was one of the few literate Chinese constables in the police station; the patrolmen listened to him read the news daily, so he knew all the gossip. Lately, the brothers’ favorite read was Seventh Young Master’s Detective Cases. The next issue was Digging Up Corpses in the Qiao Family Garden on a Rainy Day.

While Huo Zhenye was talking to Da Tou, the yellow bird hopped onto the table by itself. Its thin beak tapped on the newspaper, moving down the columns. When Huo Zhenye finished speaking, he turned to see it hopping around and scooped it up. “You can read newspapers too?”

The yellow bird puffed out its chest.

“Young Master Huo, your bird is so smart!” Not only could it find bodies, but it could also read newspapers. Could the psychic detective really be true? Da Tou wanted to reach out and pet the little yellow bird’s head.

The yellow bird instantly hopped away, folding its wings. Its beady black eyes fixated on Da Tou. From its bird-like face, Da Tou could discern a hint of arrogance, and his hand slowly retracted. Huo Zhenye patted his shoulder, gesturing for the yellow bird to fly over. “Let’s go.” The yellow bird fluttered its wings and landed on his shoulder. Once steady, it put both wings behind its back and cast a glance at Da Tou. Da Tou smacked his lips. This bird is truly impressive.

Huo Zhenye made a trip to the traditional Chinese medicine shop, choosing ginseng to replenish Bai Zhun’s health. Pushing the door open with the box, he saw Bai Zhun sitting in the courtyard reading a newspaper. Seeing Huo Zhenye return, Bai Zhun rustled the newspaper loudly, occasionally making strange sounds as if critiquing an article.

Huo Zhenye walked over with the medicine box, his eyes scanning it. The newspaper in Bai Zhun’s hand was the very same one Da Tou had given him at the police station. Even with Huo Zhenye’s thick skin, he couldn’t help but feel a bit flustered. “You… when did you start subscribing to newspapers?”

Bai Zhun elegantly turned a page. He was in a great mood. “Today.” Then he waved the newspaper in his hand. “Psychic Detective?”

Huo Zhenye was both amused and annoyed. Feeling he couldn’t indulge Bai Zhun any longer, he strode over to the wheelchair and opened the medicine box in his hand. Inside were slices of fresh ginseng soaked in honey. Bai Zhun disliked bitterness and strange smells, so ginseng sliced and steeped in honey was at least something he could eat.

Huo Zhenye took out a slice and brought it to Bai Zhun’s lips. “Try a piece. This replenishes vitality and calms the mind.” Bai Zhun’s pale lips parted slightly, encompassing the slice in one bite. His long eyelashes lowered. 

When the time truly comes that he can’t hold on, he would just let him go.