The Sleuth of Ming Dynasty (ENGLISH TRANSLATION)

CH 7

The premonitions of humans were mysteries within mysteries, and written word would find them difficult to describe. Right before, he had felt uneasy from head to toe, and the outcome of that validated his premonition at once — danger instantly approached, and, judging from the force at his neck, the other was about to make this the place he died!

Eyes widening, he saw that before him was a silhouette covered in white. Although they were within reach, he couldn’t even tell what they looked like, because they donned a white mask on their face.

Along with the sharp pain coursing through his neck, there was a sob-like, resentful voice resonating in his ears; intermittent, as if someone was calling for their soul, yet indistinct. Only words such as ‘wronged spirits’ and ‘divine fox’ could be vaguely heard.

He had read the books of sages since he was a child, and showed respect from a distance towards discussions of the supernatural. In this scenario, one phrase had to surface in his mind: a ghost in god’s clothing!

Regardless of whether the other was a real or a fake ghost, they had come prepared, and were massively strong. Tang Fan, though, had been caught off guard with the sudden ambush, and was rapidly cut off from his breathing.

In the span of a few brief breaths, his struggle bore no fruit, and he was instead trending towards rolling his eyes up into his head and passing out.

Then, at that very moment, the sound of a sword unsheathing cleaved through the empty air.

The pressure on his neck subsequently lightened. With one hand against the wall and one hand caressing the injured area that had just been strangled onto him, he couldn’t keep from violently coughing.

The white figure floated and swayed, beginning to fight head-on with a black figure.

Someone grabbed Tang Fan’s arm and hauled him up.

“You have quite an agile trap, Sir Tang, but why is your physical skill so terrible?”

Tang Fan lifted his eyes to take a closer look — hey, a familiar person!

It was none other than the Gonfalon of the Northern Bastion Office that he had met a few days ago in Rejuvenation Hall: Sui Zhou.

The man’s tone was exactly like his being, ice-cold and with no emotion, but Tang Fan could also catch a thread of ridicule in his frosty words. He had no choice but to force a smile.

The reason why Sui Zhou wouldn’t work with him wasn’t wholly because of this issue with the Marquis Estate.

The Brocade Guard had never regarded Shuntian Prefecture as very pleasing to the eye, and that segment of history had to be traced back to the Guard’s role.

To be brief, the grudge’s origin was a long time ago, and it was a really long story that was better not discussed. At present, Tang Fan coughed a good couple of times, not having the leisure to dispute with him. “Who is he?” he asked, voice hoarse. “Why did he attack me? And what did you show up here for, Sir Sui?”

“Just a leftover from the demon fox case. A group pretending to be spirits,” Sui Zhou answered coldly.

While they were talking, the white-clothed person had since been captured by a Guard under Sui Zhou’s command. Even their white mask had been seized, revealing the ordinary and frazzled face beneath it.

Now having the illumination of lanterns, Tang Fan noticed that on the mask was a pale lotus flower drawn between the brows.

“The White Lotus Society?” Taken aback, he combined that with what Sui Zhou had just said, and quickly came to a conclusion. “Was the demon fox case from two years ago actually connected to them?”