Chapter 3: Bloody Fragrance

Tai Mo’s alarm bells rang louder in his mind upon hearing those words. He began to speculate about the woman’s identity, though he kept a puzzled expression on his face. “Looking for someone? Who might that be?”

“Were there any new guests who arrived here this afternoon?”

“There were,” Tai Mo said, raising his hand in gesture. “It was you, miss.”

The woman’s lips curved upward, her lower lip dipping slightly. A faint smile softened her otherwise serene expression.

At first glance, Tai Mo had thought her attire simple. But now, up close and face-to-face, he realized she had the classic features of a Homer person: a high nose bridge, sharply defined facial contours, deep gray hair, and deep gray eyes. Her double eyelids formed smooth lines that accentuated the sharp, seashell-like peaks beneath.

Beyond that, her face had a distinctive charm. Her eyelids opened wide and clear, while her high-arched eyebrows hovered boldly above her eyes, their shape complementing her broad gaze. The ridges of her brow and nose added dimension to her features. At first glance, her face appeared dignified and imposing, but when she smiled, the light in her pupils sparkled, giving her the air of a good-natured young woman—curious by nature and eager for a casual chat.

Tai Mo wanted to press further with questions, but at some point, two honeybees had buzzed in through the door. Their translucent wings fluttered as they circled the lobby once before landing on the handrail of the staircase leading upstairs. They darted back and forth around the curved railing.

The woman reached into a cylindrical container and pulled out a dart, her eyebrows lifting. “Mind if I play?”

“Go right ahead. That’s what they’re there for—the guests use them all the time.”

The dartboard was separated from the dart tray by two dining tables, but the woman didn’t step closer. She simply leaned against the counter, raised her hand, and took aim. Her motion seemed casual, but in an instant, her wrist and elbow locked straight. She unleashed the dart with a sudden flick—a tungsten steel projectile tipped with color that sliced through the air and struck dead center in the bullseye, landing perfectly.

As the innkeeper, Tai Mo immediately clapped his hands, flattering his distinguished guest. “Impressive dart skills! We have a little game here: if your three darts score over a hundred total, you get a free bottle of fruit wine.”

The woman flexed her knuckles around the remaining darts, weighing them lightly. “Then pour me a glass while you’re at it.”

She was calling for her drink before the score was even tallied—overly confident, bordering on arrogant. But Tai Mo didn’t mind. This woman was clearly a “dart master”; the score and prize were hers for the taking. What was the chance she’d miss?

He turned to fetch a bottle from the cooler, just in time to hear the second dart fly. This one was best not examined too closely—it veered wildly off course, missing the board entirely and nearly clipping the bees by the stairs. The insects buzzed furiously for a moment, unleashing a tirade of “honeyed insults”: How do you even throw like that? Can’t gravity keep you in check?

Fortunately, the bees were magnanimous creatures. They didn’t retaliate after their rant and simply returned to their spot, ignoring the “drunken darter” gravity couldn’t contain.

A good innkeeper knew how to flatter customers and, when they faltered, offer timely comfort and encouragement—guiding them toward positivity and lavish spending.

“No worries! That dart must have been faulty. This throw doesn’t count—let’s try again!”

The woman showed remarkable poise, her cheeks unflushed as she eyed the two bees and changed the subject. “Do these things show up in your inn often?”

Tai Mo retrieved a tall-stemmed glass from under the counter. “Not frequently. I don’t have flowers planted around the building, but the nearby houses have plenty of plants. We see a bee or two now and then. If they bother you, I can shoo them out.”

“I passed through An Nan Town on my way here. There’s a beekeeper there.”

“I know him. Folks around here buy honey from him sometimes—it’s pure and clean.” Tai Mo followed her lead. Whatever she wanted to talk about, he’d indulge her, as long as the conversation steered clear of the “two guests” hidden in his inn.

“Yeah. Every evening near dusk, he lures the bees home in a clever way.” The woman’s expression softened as she idly toyed with the dart in her hand, seemingly settling into idle chatter. “He smears a board with pollen and sets it near the hives. With the hive entrances open, the bees catch the scent and swarm back inside. Once enough are lured in, he seals the openings to keep them from escaping. Then he wipes off the pollen, and the job’s done.”

“That’s efficient. Gets the bees home without much effort on his part.”

Tai Mo enjoyed chatting with guests. He poured the fruit wine and slid the glass toward her. “Enjoy.”

The woman glanced at the orange liquid but didn’t drink yet. Confident as she was, she still knew the rules of the game: score first, claim the prize later.

“You asked earlier what I was looking for?”

The topic looped back, sending a chill down Tai Mo’s spine. To mask his nerves, he busied himself polishing glasses, stacking them neatly. He hoped she’d focus on the water droplets on the cups rather than the tremor in his fingers.

“Yeah. Is the person you’re looking for someone local? Just give me a name—I’ll probably know them. If not, I can ask around.”

Her gaze followed his movements, but she remained steady on her high stool, no more than a meter away. Her voice was moderate, yet it struck his eardrums like a hammer.

“I’m looking for two Sern people.”

Tai Mo gripped the glass so tightly that it squeaked against the cloth. “Sern people? We don’t see many Sern people around here. What’s the deal with those two?”

“They tried to escape. I’m here to find them and take them back.”

“Ah, well, you should definitely track them down. How can I help?”

The woman placed her hand on the counter, her smile friendly—but beneath it, her eyes darkened. “You can tell me exactly where they are.”

Tai Mo’s breathing grew erratic. He knew this woman was the enforcer sent to arrest Zi Qin and Zi Cen. She’d reviewed the road surveillance, narrowing down the suspects to a few houses in the area, including his.

Now, she was probing him, breaking him down—interrogating him by proxy.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. His mission was clear: he absolutely could not let the Zi Qin sisters get caught. If they were taken, those girls faced only death!

Under her scrutiny, Tai Mo’s face took on an even more bewildered look. His eyebrows arched upward, carving three neat lines across his forehead—one more pronounced than the last. There was no tension, only confusion. “Their exact location? Are they in our town?”

Instead of answering, she posed a counter-question. Losing interest at his response, she turned squarely toward the dartboard again.

She’d already scored fifty points. To claim her prize, this next dart was crucial. She narrowed her eyes, sighting the triple-score zone with unyielding focus.

Tai Mo exhaled in relief, thinking she’d dropped it, but then her voice came again—calm and patient. “Want to know more about these two Sern people? I can tell you.”

Tai Mo stiffened, nodding stiffly as he forced a look of curiosity.

“These two Sern people were planning to slip across the border from the Xili outskirts. Fortunately, someone reported them in time. The border post shut down temporarily, patrols intensified, and checkpoints multiplied, cutting off their escape.”

“Good thing! Otherwise, they might have gotten away!” Tai Mo chimed in promptly.

“So they had to double back, looking for the nearest hideout. There’s a flat highway from the Xili border to Xili Town, but they didn’t dare take it. They crawled through the underbrush instead. The countryside path here is full of narcissus and bellflowers—they rolled through the blooms, picking up pollen and nectar on their clothes. Everywhere they went, they left a scent trail.”

Tai Mo listened intently until the woman suddenly pointed toward the stairs. “See those two bees fixated on the handrail? What’s up there?”

To Tai Mo, the bees traced glowing paths through the air, their flight paths silently confessing everything. In that instant, his mind blanked, his breath caught, and he was struck speechless, unable to answer.

The bees finally tired of the railing. They hovered aimlessly for a moment before drifting upstairs together, vanishing around the corner.

With a sharp “thwack,” the dart left the woman’s fingers and slammed into the board, hitting perfectly. The resounding impact jolted fragile nerves. The next second, she whipped around, propping her elbows on the counter to close the distance to Tai Mo’s face.

“You’re harboring Sern people!”

Tai Mo’s throat tightened. Her gray eyes bored into his, icy determination filling them as the color deepened. The smile vanished from her lips, replaced by chilling menace.

A buzz filled Tai Mo’s ears. The bees were long gone, but their noise echoed, stabbing into his brain with deadly distraction. His breath quickened, his features tensed, his mind on the verge of shutdown—but he willed himself: Think fast! Respond! No more stalling!

This woman wasn’t just suspecting the inn—she’d locked onto it. All that remained was a forced search to drag out the fugitives and shut the place down.

Tai Mo grasped the crux of it. To save the inn, he had to go all in. The breath caught in his throat finally burst forth in a wail.

“Commander! Commander, I’m sorry—I didn’t know! I didn’t know they were Sern people! They told me thugs were chasing them… I really had no idea. Their hair is gray, just like ours, but they were covered in so much blood—so much blood…”

Pretending to be an unwitting victim, Tai Mo spoke in a frantic rush. His teeth clacked, his voice pitching wildly, like an out-of-tune string instrument full of static.

“Are they upstairs?” the woman asked.

Tai Mo swallowed hard, steadying his breath. “Yes!!”

“Which room?”

“203.”

“Any traps in the room?”

“No, none,” Tai Mo said. He still clutched the rag, twisting it into folds. “But I told them that if they sensed danger, they could hide in the gap behind the wardrobe against the wall. The room’s modified—there’s a space tucked in there… They probably heard the noise and stashed themselves away.”

The woman looked down, her fingertip tracing the dart’s thin wing. “Move in!”

The next instant, two men burst through the door in plain clothes but moved with trained agility. They bolted up the stairs, and soon noises echoed from above.

The girls’ screams mingled with crashing sounds, tumbling down. But the clamor was fierce yet fleeting, cutting off abruptly. Only heavy footsteps descended from the corner.

The woman looked up. The two girls had their mouths sealed and hands bound behind their backs. They were half-dragged, half-carried, utterly helpless. They’d applied makeup and dyed their hair gray, making them indistinguishable at a glance.

The girls still struggled, despair flooding their eyes as they glanced toward the counter. No introduction was needed—they knew this woman was the one who’d doomed them to this death trap.

Before their tormentor, the girls’ struggles grew more desperate. They lunged toward her, unsure if pleading for mercy or fighting to the death—damn it all, they’d drag her to hell together.

The men showed no mercy, quashing any chance of breaking free. They shoved the girls into the back of an off-road vehicle like livestock and slammed the tailgate shut.

With them gone, Tai Mo’s tongue felt thicker. He stammered a few times before managing words. “They… they really were Sern people?”

“Want to come verify for yourself?”

“No, no!” Tai Mo’s eyelashes fluttered wildly; everywhere felt scorching. “I’m truly sorry for the trouble. I shouldn’t have meddled. Really, Commander, my apologies…”

From the backyard came a honk—a goose call. The pampered white goose of Amo Inn was happily returning home, only to find a guard blocking the entrance, standing tall and arrogant. The goose didn’t hesitate, lunging with a savage peck. Curses erupted soon after. The man seemed no match for the goose, yelping in pain as he hopped about.

Hearing the commotion, the woman shifted her fingertip from the dart wing to the sharp point, pressing until it nearly broke the skin and drew blood. “You keep geese?”

“Yes, seven of them, in the backyard.”

“Fat birds, and bold ones too.”

Tai Mo paled at her words. “Sorry, Commander! I’ll deal with them tomorrow. No more of those beasts…”

“No need for you to handle it.” Her eyes narrowed, issuing the order.

As her words fell, muffled gunshots rang out from outside—silencers on the weapons, but so close the dull thuds reverberated inside, rippling through the air like water hitting hot oil, stinging his eardrums.

Struck by bullets, the geese lost their fight. Chaos erupted as they scattered wildly, charging toward the inn’s entrance. They honked desperately inside, as if begging for rescue or mercy. Their cries tore at the heart before being brutally silenced. Soon, silence fell, leaving only corpses piled by the door amid pools of blood.

Peace returned to the little shop. The innkeeper and his guest sat across from each other, calmly conversing. The branch-like lamps cast a warm glow, outlining their figures softly.

Night wind wafted in, carrying the fragrance of blood—like a crimson curtain enfolding the air, compressing it oppressively. It seeped into noses, lungs, and bones relentlessly.

Amid the bloody aroma, the woman spoke again. “I’ll ask one more time: did you know they were Sern people?”

From the moment she’d entered, her emotions had been deeply veiled, inscrutable. Was this final question a confirmation, or a last chance? Tai Mo couldn’t tell. He racked his brain desperately: Had he slipped up anywhere? Exposed himself?

Was there… any flaw?

“Commander,” he said, unable to stay silent long. His throat felt raw with blood, his mouth thick with its taste. “I really didn’t know!”

Her eyes softened slightly, her expression ambiguous—neither trust nor doubt, joy nor anger. She simply stared at him intently, silently appraising.

Tai Mo knew the men outside carried guns, and so did this woman. A gun could be holstered quietly at the waist or drawn to press against his temple.

Sweat beaded hugely on his forehead, trickling down his cheek to his chin, dripping into the freshly wiped empty wineglass on the counter. He didn’t dare wipe it away or speak. He sat frozen, enduring her gaze in silence.