Chapter 1: Murder and Concealment

Chapter 1: Murder and Concealment

"A Ying! A Ying!"

"A Ying..."

The faint calls grew louder and closer.

A bone-chilling cold stabbed through her chest, and the metallic tang of rust filled her nostrils.

The water closed over her head, and the only light disappeared bit by bit as her body sank.

In the pitch darkness, she couldn’t see her own hand.

The calls from above came in broken waves. The person trapped in the nightmare wanted to open her eyes and follow the sound, but her eyelids felt like lead, and she could only let her body fall endlessly.

"A Ying—"

The desperate cry tore through Chen Jiao's eardrums.

Chen Jiao, curled up on the wooden bed, jolted awake, breaking free from the suffocating nightmare.

The sounds of struggle from next door confused Chen Jiao's groggy mind. She called out tentatively, "Mother?"

The response came as a muffled whimper.

Realizing something was amiss, Chen Jiao bolted out of bed, fumbled for the fire starter, and lit the oil lamp. The small flame cast a dim light on the bare walls of the impoverished home.

In the cramped earthen-walled room, a violent struggle was silently unfolding.

Madam Xu, her mouth tightly covered, struggled desperately, but her frail body was no match for the assailant.

Seeing the man on top of her, Chen Jiao's blood boiled with rage. Instinctively, she grabbed a tool from the corner and swung it at the man's head.

The blow sent the man into a fury. He clutched his head, glaring at Chen Jiao with his terrifying scarred face.

Chen Jiao recognized him—Dao Baliu, the notorious local thug preying on the widow and her daughter!

Though terrified, she struck again with fierce determination.

In a blind rage, the man fought back, snatched the tool, and kicked Chen Jiao with brutal force.

Overwhelmed by the searing pain, she crumpled to the ground, unable to rise.

Seeing her daughter injured, Madam Xu lunged at the man, biting and clawing like a wild animal, but he brutally grabbed her hair and threw her to the ground.

Because Madam Xu had once been a prostitute, Dao Baliu scorned the mother and daughter, hurling vile insults:

"You filthy whore, used by thousands—what are you pretending to be? After I’m done with you, I’ll take the little one!"

With that, he continued his assault.

Chen Jiao, still reeling from the kick, couldn’t straighten up from the pain in her abdomen and could only watch helplessly as Madam Xu was violated.

Dao Baliu pinned her down, sat on top of her, and tore her clothes apart with brute force.

The small flame of the oil lamp flickered ominously, and the helpless widow and her daughter were left with no savior.

Just as the assailant was about to have his way with Madam Xu, Chen Jiao suddenly erupted with astonishing strength.

She gritted her teeth against the pain in her stomach and, while Dao Baliu was fully occupied with Madam Xu, managed to crawl over and pick up the wooden stick, aimed for his temple and struck with all her strength.

Swift, precise, and brutal!

The blow made his vision blur with stars, like a raging beast, he lunged to fight back.

Another solid hit smashed into his skull, and Dao Baliu felt the world spinning.

The third and fourth blows followed, hitting him until his head was bleeding profusely, and he was knocked out cold from the agony.

Dao Baliu slumped onto Madam Xu like a sack of potatoes, terrifying her.

Madam Xu, in panic, pushed the man off her, ignoring her disheveled appearance, and crawled away as if fleeing from the plague.

Chen Jiao, gripping the wooden stick, had lost all reason. Her eyes were filled with terrifying bloodshot veins, like a maddened beast, relentlessly striking Dao Baliu's head until his face was unrecognizable before she finally relented.

Only when she was sure he wasn’t moving did Chen Jiao collapse weakly to the ground, her face pale as she clutched her stomach, drenched in sweat from the pain.

The room went dead silent.

The temperature difference between day and night in autumn was significant, and the cold wind rattled the pomegranate tree in the yard.

Suddenly, the sound of a night watchman came from the distant street, making them jump like startled cats.

Chen Jiao, dressed in thin clothes, leaned against the cold earthen wall, her young face flushed with an eerie redness.

It was the lingering rush of adrenaline from the kill.

Beside her, Madam Xu was frozen in fear by her daughter’s ferocity, only coming to her senses after a long while.

Seeing her daughter curled up in a daze, Madam Xu, with her clothes in disarray, crawled over to her side.

"A Ying..."

Chen Jiao's scattered gaze gradually focused, her strength almost completely drained.

She was just of age, her body frail from poverty, and the counterattack had used up all her remaining energy.

"Mother, don't be afraid."

Her voice was hoarse and mechanical, grating like sandpaper.

Chen Jiao endured her discomfort to soothe her mother's frightened emotions.

Madam Xu’s eyes darted nervously as she fearfully glanced at the man on the ground, unsure of what to do next.

Dao Baliu was a known thug, and with him targeting them, there would likely be no peace in the days to come.

Madam Xu's lips quivered as she huddled close to her daughter, trembling like a leaf, completely at a loss.

In contrast, Chen Jiao was unusually calm, her dark eyes icy and menacing, her expression carrying a cruelty that belied her age.

With one hand clutching her stomach and the other supporting her body, she crawled over to inspect the scene.

She must have struck with lethal force, as Dao Baliu was already lifeless.

She had now become entangled in a murder case.

These past two years, the harsh world had hardened her to the point of numbness.

Most women would have been terrified in this situation, but after the initial fear, Chen Jiao felt an unusual, twisted sense of pleasure.

Dao Baliu's face was so badly mangled that his features were unrecognizable. Chen Jiao stared coldly at her handiwork, her eyes brimming with ruthlessness.

"Mom, we can’t stay in Shenyang anymore," Chen Jiao said.

Madam Xu stammered, "But..."

Chen Jiao cut her off, "No buts." After a pause, she added, "He's dead."

At this, Madam Xu’s jaw dropped in shock.

Chen Jiao gazed at her like a specter, half her face shrouded in shadow, her frail frame radiating an unyielding strength.

"I know you want to wait for Dad in Shenyang, but now I’ve killed someone."

Madam Xu faltered, speechless.

She wasn’t the sharpest, and now she was like a headless chicken, clueless about how to deal with the sin they’d committed.

While Madam Xu panicked, Chen Jiao was already plotting.

Dao Baliu had broken into their home at night to assault them, and surely no one knew he’d been there.

Their top priority was to get rid of the body and prepare to flee.

They had to leave Shenyang before the body was found and avoid the authorities, or they’d be dead for sure.

Ignoring Madam Xu’s dazed state, Chen Jiao, exhausted, calmly searched for a place to hide the body.

Their rented house was small, with three tiled rooms next door that were now vacant. The tenants had moved out last month, and the landlord had filled the rooms with clutter, leaving them empty for now.

In front of the house was a small courtyard with a pomegranate tree that seemed like a good spot, but digging there would be too obvious.

Madam Xu, who’d been scared out of her mind earlier, now calmed down and suggested burying Dao Baliu under the kitchen water vat.

Chen Jiao considered it and agreed.

Dao Baliu’s head was still bleeding, and worried the blood would stain the floor, Madam Xu grabbed ashes from the stove and sprinkled them over it.

The blood quickly clotted with the ashes.

Chen Jiao found some old rags to wrap the head, and the two worked together to drag the body aside, clean the blood, and move the broken water vat.

The ground was damp from frequent water fetching, making it easier to dig.

The oil lamp was covered, its light as dim as a flicker.

Survival instinct drove the mother and daughter to dig the pit with everything they had.

It was just past midnight, and dawn was hours away. The two worked tirelessly, not daring to pause.

By dawn, they’d finally dug a small pit where the water vat had stood.

But Dao Baliu was a big man, and he certainly wouldn’t fit.

With time running out, Chen Jiao didn’t think too much and, with Madam Xu, dragged the stiff body to the edge of the pit.

Madam Xu’s heart raced as she said, "The pit’s too small; he won’t fit."

Chen Jiao frowned, silent. She had no intention of giving Dao Baliu a proper burial.

After a quick mental tally, she decided to use brute force to position the corpse in the center of the pit and, with a heavy heart, jumped onto it with all her weight.

A sharp "crack" echoed as the corpse snapped in half at the waist under the force.

Madam Xu was terrified by her brutal actions, her face pale, not daring to utter a word.

The corpse, now broken in half, was shoved into the pit, and the tattered cloth around the head slipped off, exposing a gory, bloody mess.

Gritting her teeth against the nausea, Chen Jiao mercilessly stomped on the arms, snapping them.

The legs were treated the same, broken at the knees, though it took more effort.

The corpse was shoved into the small pit in a grotesquely contorted shape.

Chen Jiao, not daring to delay, urged, "Mother, don’t just stand around. It’s almost dawn."

Madam Xu quickly stepped forward to shovel dirt to cover it.

The two weak women, desperate to stay alive, didn’t slack for a moment, carefully filling the pit with soil.

The crowing of a rooster from somewhere nearby sounded like a death omen, sending Madam Xu into a panic.

Chen Jiao hurriedly swept away the remaining dirt.

To conceal the fresh soil, she found a wooden board and laid it over the pit.

Once sure nothing looked out of place, the two worked together to slowly move the water jug onto the board to hold it down.

They then placed buckets and other miscellaneous items around to hide any traces of human activity.

With the corpse properly disposed of, the mother and daughter divided tasks to carefully erase any other traces in the house.

By then, the sky was fully bright.

Chen Jiao, who had been kicked the night before, had a bruise on her abdomen that still ached faintly.

Exhausted, she curled up on the simple wooden bed, drifting into a drowsy sleep.

Madam Xu changed into clean clothes and, having done much physical labor the previous night, was starving. She sat by the stove to light a fire and cook taro.

Early in the morning, there was a commotion outside—it was Granny Zhang, their next-door neighbor.

The noise from the previous night had disturbed them, and she had come to investigate.

Hearing the voices outside, Madam Xu wiped her dirty hands on her apron and calmly went out.

Granny Zhang was tall and extremely thin, her figure resembling a reed.

Her face was sharp and unkind, with high cheekbones, drooping eyelids, and suspicious, pale eyes that scanned the yard.

As her family had fled from the Central Plains, she spoke in a proper northern Mandarin, probing,

"Last night, I vaguely heard some commotion from your side, Madam Xu. I wanted to come and check, but it was pitch dark, and my legs aren’t what they used to be..."

Before she could finish, Madam Xu interrupted with an exaggerated "Oh my!" putting on a high-pitched voice, "Ah, when luck’s bad, even drinking cold water chokes you!

"Last night, our A Ying was half-asleep when a rat bit her."

"Mother and daughter got up in the middle of the night to chase rats, and it was quite a racket!"

Madam Zhang didn’t buy a word of her story, thinking it was more likely that some man had come for shady business, but she didn’t call her out, just asked, "Did it bite you?"

Madam Xu waved it off, "Just a scratch, no big deal."

Madam Zhang eyed the rundown tile-roofed house Madam Xu rented with suspicion, her nosy, probing gaze making Madam Xu feel uneasy.

Afraid of being discovered, Madam Xu brought up Zhu Dalang, her family’s recent widower.

As expected, Madam Zhang’s expression changed immediately, like a cat with its tail stepped on, and she left quickly.

Madam Xu rolled her eyes and muttered, "Nosy old hag!"

Chen Jiao’s sleepy voice called from inside, "Mom?"

Madam Xu replied, "Coming," and went to check on her.

Chen Jiao propped herself up, dark circles under her eyes, and asked warily, "Who was out there?"

Madam Xu whispered, "Madam Zhang." She paused, "She heard the noise last night and came snooping."

Chen Jiao didn’t say anything.

Madam Xu, still anxious, sat on the bed, glancing toward the kitchen, and asked, "When are we leaving?"

Chen Jiao replied calmly, "First thing tomorrow." She added, "This afternoon, I’ll head to Bai Hall to get our pay."

Madam Xu nodded, still uneasy.

While the mother and daughter were discussing their escape plans, Madam Zhang returned to her yard, looking sour.

The Zhu family were outsiders, once well-off with land and houses up north, but the nonHan tribes’ raids forced them to flee.

Their daughter-in-law had recently died, leaving Zhu Dalang a widower, and he’d already left for work.

Old Zhu was a carpenter, organizing his tools, ready to start the day’s work.

Madam Zhang roused her grandson, grumbling to her husband, "A dog can’t stop eating crap, and a brothel can’t do without men."

Old Zhu looked at her, confused, "What’re you on about?"

Madam Zhang glanced toward Madam Xu’s place, whispering, "That racket last night? Probably some man being entertained by the mother and daughter."

Old Zhu didn’t respond.

Everyone knew Madam Xu next door had been a prostitute, and with her and her daughter working at Bai Hall, it was safe to assume they were still in the trade.

When Madam Xu brought up the widowed Zhu Dalang, Madam Zhang panicked, worried her son might fall for that shameless woman.

In the afternoon, Chen Jiao headed to Bai Hall, dressed in a patched, worn brown dress, a gray scarf on her head, hunched and unkempt.

Her abdominal injury made her press her side as she walked, her face tense.

The alley was lined with low, tile-roofed houses, their earthen walls stacked haphazardly.

Chen Jiao walked the chilly, narrow alley, sunlight peeking through the cracks, warming her frail frame.

Having passed through several alleys and stepped onto the main street, the houses here were far more impressive than the narrow lanes' tiled cottages.

Most of them were wooden buildings, with some green-tiled houses as well.

Chen Jiao and her mother had once lived in a green-tiled house, but that was before Chen Jiao turned ten.

The further east they went, the more prosperous the surroundings became.

Baitang was located on Shupai Alley, where she usually worked.

By "Baitang," it meant a brothel.

Her mother had been a prostitute, and naturally, the daughter of a prostitute could not escape being looked down upon.

Chen Jiao could not find regular work like others to make a living, so she had to take up the rough job of washing clothes for the girls at Baitang, or else resort to selling herself.

The wages Baitang offered her were extremely low, and the madam had intentions of recruiting her into prostitution, treating her with relative kindness.

She managed to collect eighty-six copper coins from the accounting office, with the rest of the over one hundred coins withheld.

Despite her pleading, the accountant insisted on settling the remainder next month, leaving her no choice but to accept it.

Carefully hiding the coins, she did not linger and hurried back home.

Xu Shi was already packing her belongings, planning to leave at dawn the next day.

Upon returning, Chen Jiao handed over the money.

Xu Shi couldn't help but worry; the two of them only had a little over one hundred coins, making it difficult to even leave Tongzhou.

Chen Jiao remained silent for a long while before finally saying, "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Madam Xu, mustering her spirits, agreed, "My child is right, when one door closes, another opens." She added, "Once we leave Shenyang County, we'll go find your father."

Hearing this, Chen Jiao was at a loss for words.

Speaking of Madam Xu's experiences, they were indeed filled with hardships.

She had been sold multiple times as a child and later ended up as a prostitute in Bai Tang.

Because she was somewhat attractive in her youth, she encountered a wealthy patron surnamed Chen who bought her freedom and kept her as a mistress in Shenyang.

Later, Madam Xu became pregnant and gave birth to Chen Jiao, whose name was also given by the patron.

The patron didn't visit often but was generous with money, rented a house and hired servants for the mother and daughter, supporting them until Chen Jiao was ten years old.

Madam Xu, used to living lavishly and lacking any skills, quickly fell into poverty with her daughter.

The original Chen Jiao died of a severe cold at thirteen.

The modern Chen Jiao, who had died in a car accident and drowned in a river, had her soul transmigrated into this body.

She had no memory of her supposed father, only knew from Madam Xu that he was a big shot, though she didn't know how significant.

Finding that patron had become Madam Xu's fixation.

Now that Chen Jiao was involved in a murder case, where they went didn’t matter, as long as they left the trouble behind.

So the next morning, mother and daughter slipped away with their belongings.

The southern morning was thick with mist and chilly.

Chen Jiao bundled up in her thin clothes, holding a warm bun in her hand, nibbling on it.

Her hungry stomach was soothed by the warm bun as she embarked on the journey to find her supposed father.

What she thought was Madam Xu's fantasy turned out to be real—she actually found a father, and not just any father, but a powerful warlord!