The King of Black Fog

Song City, Dahu District, Xinan Road, Money Tree Alley, crammed shanties.

A small kerosene lamp was lit, two young girls squeezed into the dim light, which seemed so faint and constricted the girls appeared to shrink into a tiny cardboard box.

"Qian Xia."

"Hmm?" Li Qianxia didn't look up, engrossed in a book she was reading, having recently gotten accustomed to the vertical typesetting.

Xu Fenfang sewed a few stitches in the clothes, then spoke, "Someone came looking for A'Qing again today, asking me to set you up with him."

Li Qianxia was quite popular.

Stripped of her garments, her figure could elicit cries of "sister, slay me" from other girls, and clothed, her shapely form could make any man swallow his saliva.

Her originally vibrant ponytail was now braided into a 1928-style braid. Sometimes the braid would hang between her breasts, the shape it pressed out radiating with life's allure.

Not to mention her face, just yesterday, a newspaper reporter had shelled out money to have her grace the cover.

The newspaper was the highly esteemed "Song City Pictorial," and the cover usually featured actresses and top female figures from the film and theater industry, world-famous socialites, ladies from prominent families, and pure schoolgirls.

The previous issue featured the recently arrived Chun Emperor!

It was certain that the moment any lady or miss graced the cover, the number of men pursuing her would triple instantly.

Now, when people in Money Tree Alley talked about Li Qianxia's looks, instead of just saying she was beautiful, they'd exclaim, ""Song City Pictorial" has her as their cover girl, you know!"

"Set me up? With that A'Wen again?"

"No, a different one, A'Wu."

Li Qianxia laughed, flipping the "Women's Progress Association By-Laws" to the next page.

At her laugh, Xu Fenfang perked up, put down her needlework, and asked in a low voice, "Are you interested? If you are, I'll respond tomorrow and arrange for you two to see a movie together."

"What?" Li Qianxia chuckled, "I'm laughing because, first it's A'Wen, then it's A'Wu, sounding like Bao Zheng's subordinates from the dynasty, Zhang Long and Zhao Hu."

Xu Fenfang didn't understand what was funny, a limitation of the times.

It's said that you can tell what kind of era it is from the names of that generation, like Jianguo, Weiguo, and also Zi Xuan, Zixuan, Zixuan.

While everyone laughs at Zi Xuan, Zixuan, Zixuan, Zi Xuan, Zixuan, Zixuan themselves don't see what's hilarious.

"So, are you actually interested in A'Wu?" Xu Fenfang pressed.

Li Qianxia lifted her head, about to say something, then after a moment of thought, she simply pulled out another newspaper from beside her.

"Do you see that?" She pointed to a picture of Li Changzhou.

"Li Er Ye?" Xu Fenfang glanced at it, then looked up at Li Qianxia, "You aiming to become his concubine? Stop dreaming... But with your beauty, there really might be a chance, concubines aren't chosen for their background."

"What? Me, becoming his woman? I mean, my other half, must be as handsome, as formidable, and cherish me just like him."

"Cherish you?" Xu Fenfang asked, puzzled.

Li Qianxia sneaked a glance at the bed, ensuring that those people were asleep.

She moved closer to Xu Fenfang, whispering, "Actually, I'm Li Changzhou's sister. But because we were poor when I was young, they gave me away."

Xu Fenfang raised her fist and gently tapped Li Qianxia on the back.

"Quit spouting nonsense!" she scolded laughing.

"Who's talking nonsense," Li Qianxia pursed her lips and grinned, "take a closer look."

She held up the newspaper next to Li Changzhou and beside her own face.

"Don't we look alike?"

Xu Fenfang initially didn't take it seriously, thinking she was joking, but upon a closer look, it was shocking; they did look somewhat alike.

"What you said... is it true?" Xu Fenfang was no longer certain.

Li Qianxia clutched her stomach, laughing, and Xu Fenfang, realizing she'd been fooled, pretended to be annoyed and threatened to prick her with the needle.

"Hey, A'Fen, stop it! That needle's for sewing your wedding dress; it would be bad to get blood on it!"

"Marriage needs a touch of red to be perfect!"

"That's for the wedding night in bed!"

"You hooligan!"

The two girls teased each other for a while, then returned to their books and needlework, eventually turning off the lamp and lying down in bed.

"A'Xia."

"Hmm?

"Don't tell anyone about the cloth I swapped in your dress; I'll buy you a pair of shoes."

"As long as they don't find out on you, my lips are sealed tighter than the stitches you sew."

After a few words, Xu Fenfang yawned and fell asleep.

Once she was asleep, Li Qianxia opened her eyes; in the dead of night, they shone like the stars in the night sky.

With nimble and silent movements, she slipped out of the rental, and in the courtyard, transformed into a Snowy Owl and plunged into the night.

◇

Song City, West City Gate.

The night was pitch-black and windy, the body of a gaunt middle-aged man hung from the tall city gate, occasionally spinning eerily with the wind.

Just as a gust of wind arrived, the body didn't spin but was instead swept away by the breeze.

In the distance, the Snowy Owl flapped its wings, gliding to follow the body.

Blown by the wind, the body drifted and dropped onto Eight Immortals Bridge, sneaking into a private residence.

The Snowy Owl swooped down, perching beside a pond on a willow in the yard, its golden eyes piercing through the glass.

"Master, the person has been brought back." The wind morphed into a robust young man.

In the modestly-sized living room, seven or eight individuals were seated, some in military uniform, some in suits, and others in traditional robes and qipaos.

"I didn't expect that little twerp Li Changzhou to not fall for our ploy," the commander, dressed in a military uniform and seated at the head of the room, stated venomously.

"It seems we cannot incite him to rebel as planned," a man in a suit pondered.

"I say we just kill him outright," a man in a traditional robe, toying with an Iron Gall, suggested.

"No," a woman in a qipao cut in, "Whether it's us or not, the Commander will surely blame us for the killing. The best course of action is still to provoke him into rebelling, to assassinate both the Commander and our head, letting the Commander take care of him personally."