On the twenty-third of March, just as the first rays of dawn began to emerge, Pei Yunfan, the magistrate of Wannian County, was already standing at the scene of the crime.
This was the first murder case he had taken up since his transfer to Chang'an, and it was as bizarre as it was unsettling—a nightmare that made one's scalp crawl. The most renowned puppeteer in the West Market, "Skilled Hand Zhang," had been found dead in his workshop, suspended by seven wooden puppets, their silk strings tied to the beams above.
What was even stranger, however, were the expressions on the faces of those puppets.
"Magistrate Pei, please take a look," the coroner, Old Zhou, said with a tremor in his voice. "The faces of these seven puppets... they resemble the seven victims of last year's 'Red Satin House Serial Murders'... exactly the same."
Pei Yunfan crouched down and closely examined one of the female puppets. Its exquisitely carved face bore two faint traces of vermilion tears, which had yet to dry, and its mouth was twisted into a grotesque smile. He reached out and lightly touched the puppet's arm. The wood was smooth and warm, and the joints were finely crafted, capable of performing more than ten distinct movements.
"These puppets are worth a small fortune," he said as he stood, surveying the workshop. "But nothing seems to be missing."
The workshop's windows were tightly shut, and the door was bolted from the inside—it was a perfect sealed room. Skilled Hand Zhang hung a foot above the ground, his neck ensnared by seven-colored silk threads, each thread extending into the hand of a puppet. His face was deathly pale, his eyes wide open, as though he had seen something terrifying before his demise.
"Did he commit suicide out of guilt?" Wang Hu, the unscrupulous commander, ventured.
Pei Yunfan shook his head. "If it were suicide, there would be something to stand on beneath his feet. Look at the floor."
The blue bricks were spotless, not even a low stool in sight.
"Then how did he hang himself?"
"That is the very question," Pei Yunfan's gaze fixed on the half-carved puppet face clenched tightly in Skilled Hand Zhang's right hand—its delicate outline resembled that of a woman.
He carefully pried open the corpse's fingers and retrieved the wooden face. Turning it over, two tiny words were carved into the back:
"Next."
By the time Pei Yunfan left the workshop, it was already afternoon.
Instead of returning to the county office, he took a detour to Pingkang Alley. He needed to find someone who was well-versed in the strange happenings of Chang'an.
"Xuanji Pavilion" was hidden deep within a narrow alley, its storefront inconspicuous, only a plain wooden plaque hanging above the door. But once inside, it was like stepping into another world—three floors piled high with ancient books and oddities, walls adorned with star charts, maps of the river, and depictions of mythical beasts. The air was thick with the scent of sandalwood and old parchment.
Li Muyan, a descendant of the pavilion's founder, Li Chunfeng, was lounging at the second-floor railing, stifling a yawn.
"Magistrate Pei, your arrival must mean there's another troublesome 'strange case'?" Li Muyan, just over twenty, was dressed in a crumpled green robe, his hair loosely tied back, eyes still heavy with sleep. But his gaze was clear and sharp, as if he could see through all illusions.
"Young Master Li, take a look at this," Pei Yunfan handed him the half-carved puppet face.
Li Muyan took it, glanced at it briefly, and his expression immediately grew solemn. "This is 'Human Face Puppetry'."
"What does that mean?"
"It is said that during Emperor Xuanzong's reign, a mysterious figure mastered a secret technique to seal a living soul into a puppet, allowing it to move as though it were human. This method was lost to time, with only scattered mentions remaining." Li Muyan turned to the bookshelf, pulling out an old, yellowing tome. "The Youyang Zazu mentions this—these puppets are controlled by 'Seven Emotions Threads'—joy, anger, sorrow, worry, grief, fear, and surprise—threads woven from the essence of these emotions."
Pei Yunfan recalled the seven-colored threads wrapped around Skilled Hand Zhang's neck. "So the seven puppets..."
"Indeed, they are controlled by the Seven Emotions Threads." Li Muyan placed the book down, his tone unusually serious. "But what concerns me more is the carving technique. Look at the outline of this woman's face—this is no ordinary puppet; this is a 'Substitute Puppet'."
"A substitute?"
"A puppet used to take the place of someone, to bear their misfortune... or to transfer a curse." Li Muyan walked over to the window, gazing in the direction of the West Market. "Last year, seven courtesans died at Red Satin House, each with a different cause of death, but all had eerie smiles on their faces. The rumors in the market spoke of a demon at work. If someone had sealed the souls of those seven women into puppets, and then controlled them with the Seven Emotions Threads..."
"They could use the puppets to control their 'lingering grudges' and kill," Pei Yunfan finished.
Li Muyan nodded. "But the practitioner would suffer a backlash. If one of the Seven Emotions Threads is severed, the master loses a soul. If all seven threads break..." He trailed off, but the meaning was clear.
"So Skilled Hand Zhang could have been the practitioner, and he suffered the backlash?"
"Not necessarily." Li Muyan suddenly smiled, a look of excitement lighting up his face, as if he had just discovered a new toy. "Magistrate Pei, tonight at the hour of the rat, would you dare join me in the West Market to watch a performance?"
At the hour of the rat, the West Market was eerily silent.
Skilled Hand Zhang's workshop had been sealed off with a wax stamp, yet the rear window had been inexplicably left ajar. Pei Yunfan and Li Muyan silently slipped inside, hiding in the shadows among the piles of timber.
Moonlight filtered through the rice paper, casting strange and shifting shadows across the floor. The seven puppets stood motionless in place, their silk threads hanging down, as though awaiting something.
At the third watch, an unexpected change occurred.
A faint sound of mechanical movement echoed, and to their astonishment, the puppets began to move on their own. Stiffly, they turned, facing east. In unison, they raised their arms, all pointing in the same direction.
Li Muyan whispered, "They're pointing the way."
Following the direction indicated by the puppets, Pei Yunfan saw a map slowly emerge on the wall—an image of the city of Chang'an, drawn with fluorescent mineral powder, with a bright red X marking the location of Pingkang Alley.
"The next target is in Pingkang Alley." Pei Yunfan's heart sank.
Before he could finish speaking, all seven puppets suddenly turned their heads in unison, their hollow eyes seemingly "looking" directly at their hiding spot.
"They've found us!" Li Muyan hissed.
The seven puppets simultaneously opened their mouths, emitting a high-pitched, ear-piercing screech. The sound was neither human nor animal, but rather the wailing of countless vengeful spirits. The silk threads moved of their own accord, like venomous snakes, lashing out toward them.
Pei Yunfan drew his sword and slashed at the threads, sparks flying as the blade met the strands—these threads were tougher than steel!
Li Muyan drew a pouch of cinnabar from his robes and, with a swift gesture, tossed it into the air. "Exorcise the fire, break the evil—swiftly!"
The cinnabar ignited into an eerie blue flame as it touched the threads. The puppets howled even louder, but their assault only intensified. One of the female puppets leaped through the air, her fingers like claws, aiming directly for Pei Yunfan's face.
Pei Yunfan dodged, spinning and slicing the puppet's arm off. The severed limb fell to the ground, oozing dark, sticky liquid with a foul stench.
"This isn't wood!" he exclaimed in shock.
"It's a corpse puppet!" Li Muyan's face turned ashen. "Someone has mixed human corpses with wood... we need to run!"
The two of them crashed through the window, but the puppets pursued relentlessly, leaping from the roof and wall with impossible speed. Even more terrifying, the night patrols of Chang'an seemed completely unaware of the chase, standing motionless with vacant, empty stares.
"The entire West Market is shrouded in an illusion!" Li Muyan bit his fingertip, quickly drawing a symbol in mid-air. "Clear the heavens, dispel the delusions—open!"
The blood-red symbol exploded into golden light, and the surrounding scene rippled like water disturbed by a stone. The motionless guards vanished, leaving only empty streets behind. Yet, the puppets remained—real and growing in number—more than a dozen surged from the alleys!
"We can't escape," Pei Yunfan said, his back pressed against Li Muyan's, sword held horizontally before him. "Li Gongzi, do you have any hidden tricks left?"
Li Muyan gave a bitter smile. "I do, but if we use it, we'll be out for at least half a month..."
Before he could finish, a clear and melodious flute sound suddenly rang through the air.
The flute's melody was ethereal, as though it came from the heavens. The puppets, in the midst of their frenzied attacks, froze momentarily, their movements slowing. Then, a white figure descended lightly upon the wall of the alley.
It was a woman, clad in a white robe as pure as snow, her face veiled with a light gauze, holding a jade flute. She continued to play, the melody growing more urgent. The puppets began to tremble and retreat, until they all collapsed to the ground, motionless.
The woman lowered her flute and looked at them. "Are you two unharmed?"
Pei Yunfan was about to thank her, but Li Muyan spoke first, grinning mischievously. "Miss Bai, your timing couldn't have been more perfect. If you'd arrived even a moment later, we'd have been collecting our corpses."
The woman lifted her veil, revealing a face of ethereal beauty. She shot Li Muyan a sharp glance. "Mu Yan, you know how dangerous the Human Face Puppet technique is, yet you still dared to rush in?"
"But I had Magistrate Pei to keep us safe," Li Muyan said nonchalantly, turning to Pei Yunfan with a gesture of introduction. "This is Bai Suxin, my senior sister. Sister, this is Pei Yunfan, the magistrate of Wannian County, just transferred from Luoyang to handle 'special cases.'"
Bai Suxin nodded slightly, her gaze falling on the puppets with a grave expression. "The technique used to craft these corpse puppets is ancient, requiring at least forty-nine days. Skilled Hand Zhang only began to shut himself off from visitors a month ago—the timeline doesn't add up."
"Are you suggesting..." Pei Yunfan's thoughts raced.
"He wasn't the first, and he won't be the last," Bai Suxin crouched down, inspecting one of the puppets. "These bodies have been treated with a special concoction that preserves them, keeping the flesh supple and elastic. The creator must be skilled in both medicine and mechanical arts."
Li Muyan suddenly spoke up. "Sister, look at their eyes."
Pei Yunfan leaned in and noticed, for the first time, that deep within each puppet's pupils was an intricate symbol—an emblem of a blooming mandala flower.
"Mandala..." Bai Suxin inhaled sharply. "Could it be the 'Poison Immortal Sect'?"
The mere mention of the "Poison Immortal Sect" caused the atmosphere to plunge into a freezing silence.
Li Muyan wiped the smile from his face, his voice growing serious. "The cult that was eradicated by the court thirty years ago? Wasn't it said that all their texts were burned and the remnants completely annihilated?"
"Bodies may die, but the insect still writhes," Bai Suxin rose, her pale face illuminated by moonlight. "Especially their 'Poison Puppet Technique.' It's said that twelve volumes of secret scriptures have scattered among the common folk. If someone has obtained even one..."
Pei Yunfan suddenly recalled something. Reaching into his robes, he pulled out a dossier. "Skilled Hand Zhang's apprentice mentioned that three months ago, a strange customer commissioned a special puppet, requesting that it be modeled after a woman born on the 'Yin year, Yin month, Yin day.' Skilled Hand Zhang refused, but that night, his workshop was burgled, and many precious materials and tools were stolen."
"The timeline matches," Li Muyan clapped his hands. "That thief must have stolen Zhang's craft and the materials needed to make a poison puppet. When Zhang discovered something was amiss, he tried to stop him, but was silenced."
"But why did the thief use the puppets to point us toward the next target in Pingkang Alley?" Pei Yunfan asked, puzzled.
Bai Suxin and Li Muyan exchanged a glance, both speaking in unison:
"A provocation."
"A trap."
Pei Yunfan pondered for a moment. "Perhaps both. The killer believes we won't be able to solve the case, so they leave clues to mock the authorities. But Pingkang Alley is vast—where exactly?"
Li Muyan looked toward the east, where the lights of Pingkang Alley shone brightly. "Hongxiao Alley."
"The site of last year's massacre?" Pei Yunfan's heart sank.
"It is also the only place connected to the seven puppet prototypes," Bai Suxin murmured softly. "If I were the killer, I would return there to complete some 'ritual.'"
Pei Yunfan immediately made up his mind. "We go to Hongxiao Alley now!"
"Wait." Li Muyan stopped him. "If we go in like this, it's like walking straight into a snare. We need to prepare some things first."
"How long?"
"One hour," Li Muyan's eyes gleamed mischievously. "And we'll need to enter by a different means."
At the third watch, outside the back wall of Hongxiao Alley.
Pei Yunfan looked at the embroidered robe he was wearing and the folding fan Li Muyan had handed him, feeling a mix of amusement and exasperation. "This is your plan? Disguise ourselves as pleasure-seekers?"
"The most dangerous places are the safest; the most conspicuous identities are the most inconspicuous," Li Muyan, now dressed as a wealthy young noble, shook the fan with an air of false sophistication. "Though Hongxiao Alley is the site of a gruesome crime, business continues as usual. If we march in boldly, we'll draw less attention."
Bai Suxin, still in her white robes, donned a cloak over her shoulders. "I'll stay in the shadows to assist. If anything goes awry, the signal will be a whistle."
The trio scaled the wall—Hongxiao Alley's back yard had been abandoned for some time, overgrown with weeds. It was here that the seven courtesans had met their tragic ends last year, each dying in a bizarre manner, with the case still unsolved.
Li Muyan lit a special incense, the blue smoke curling upward, drifting slowly toward a dry well in the northwestern corner.
"This is the place of the strongest resentment," he whispered.
The three of them crept closer. The well was covered by a stone slab, but a faint reddish glow seeped through the cracks. Pei Yunfan signaled for them to step back, and with a burst of strength, he pushed the stone aside.
What he saw below made him gasp in shock.
There was no water in the well. Instead, a small altar sat at the bottom, adorned with seven oil lamps arranged in the shape of the Big Dipper. Beside each lamp was a small wooden puppet, each a miniature version of the ones from Skilled Hand Zhang's workshop.
More unsettling was the large copper mirror suspended above the altar. Instead of reflecting their own images, the mirror displayed the silhouette of a person carving puppets.
The figure, with their back to them, expertly worked the carving knife. Suddenly, they turned, smiling eerily at the mirror—and thus, at them.
"Welcome," the figure's voice was rough, like sandpaper grinding against stone. "I've been waiting for you."
As the last word left his lips, all seven oil lamps snuffed out.
The well was plunged into complete darkness, but the copper mirror continued to glow faintly. The figure within began to expand, distorting and changing shape, before finally transforming into a black mist that surged from the mirror!
"Back!" Li Muyan shouted, throwing a copper coin into the air.
The coin formed a makeshift eight-trigram formation, halting the black mist momentarily. The trio quickly retreated, but the stone slab over the well had somehow sealed itself again.
"He's been waiting for us all along," Bai Suxin analyzed coolly. "From the moment Skilled Hand Zhang died, this was a trap."
The black mist hissed as it collided with the eight-trigram formation, the array beginning to flicker. Li Muyan gritted his teeth, blood now oozing from the corners of his mouth. "This thing's too fierce. I can't hold out much longer!"
Pei Yunfan drew his sword, its blade gleaming in the dim light. "Then let's break the formation."
He was not just an investigator. Before his transfer to Chang'an, he had been the youngest commander in the Luoyang Jinwu Guard, trained by the foremost sword master of the Imperial Guard. With a single stroke, he poured ten years of skill into the cut, the blade cutting through the air like a streak of lightning, aimed directly at the copper mirror!
The mirror shattered in an instant.
As it broke, the black mist let out a blood-curdling screech, rapidly retreating to the bottom of the well. The seven oil lamps on the altar reignited, but this time, green flames burned from the wicks. The miniature puppets began to rise, holding hands and forming a circle, spinning and dancing.
"This is..." Bai Suxin's pupils constricted. "The Soul Summoning Dance! He's trying to summon the souls of the seven courtesans!"
The dance grew faster, the wind from the well whipping up. Faintly, a woman's song could be heard, sorrowful and haunting. It was the most popular song at Hongxiao Alley last year—Chang Hen Ge (The Song of Everlasting Regret).
"May we be birds flying side by side in the heavens, may we be branches intertwined on the earth..."
Amidst the song, seven translucent figures slowly materialized—just the spirits of the seven courtesans. Their faces were vacant, their eyes hollow, but all wore that same eerie smile.
Li Muyan's face turned ashen. "The vengeful souls have been turned into malevolent ghosts... This is it... we're done for..."
"Not yet," Pei Yunfan suddenly said. "Look at their feet."
Each of the seven ghostly women had a thin red thread tied around their ankles, the other end extending into a hidden compartment in the well's wall.
"It's a Soul Control Thread!" Bai Suxin's eyes lit up. "The practitioner must be nearby, controlling them remotely through the red threads. If we can find him..."
Before she could finish, a hidden door in the well's wall creaked open, and a hunched figure sprang out, lunging directly at Bai Suxin!
Pei Yunfan reacted instinctively, blocking with his sword. The blade clashed with the figure's carving knife, sparks flying. By the dim light, he finally saw the true face of the killer—
It was an old man, over sixty, with a face covered in deep wrinkles, but his eyes were sharp and intense. What caught his attention was the man's right hand—only three fingers, yet they moved with eerie dexterity, the carving knife flicking like a butterfly.
"Three-Fingered Demon Craftsman!" Li Muyan gasped. "You're still alive!"
The old man cackled, "A descendant of Li Chunfeng, keen-eyed as always. That's right, I'm the Poison Immortal Sect's guardian, Gongsun Zhi, the Ghost Hand Craftsman, who should have died thirty years ago."
He took a few steps back, standing in the center of the altar. "Thirty years ago, the court destroyed our sacred cult and burned our scriptures. But I, Gongsun Zhi, was destined not to die. Not only did I survive, I also found the remnants of the supreme scripture, Twelve Chapters of the Poison Puppet."
"So you used innocent lives to practice your dark arts?" Pei Yunfan's voice turned cold.
"Innocent?" Gongsun Zhi laughed. "These courtesans were all unfortunate women kidnapped by Hongxiao Alley, living lives of misery