The Night Watcher of Great Jing - Chapter 81

“A-E is turning into another person… or something else.”

Yang Jian remembered the dream he had the previous night.

Perhaps it had not been a dream.

He shuddered violently and looked to Zhao Li for help.

“A-E sheds her old skin layer by layer. Every day, more comes off.”

“The dried human skin quickly curls into a ball. She stuffs it into the hearth and burns it.”

“It burns like crisp yellow paper.”

Yang Jian scratched neurotically at his arm, as if the memory had made his entire body itch.

Dry skin fell with the rasping movement.

The largest flakes were the size of a thumb, with threads of blood clinging to them.

A small heap soon scattered across the black lacquered table.

Many pieces fell into the bowl of soybean milk before him.

The breakfast stall owner had not dared approach, but the sight finally angered him.

“You filthy thing! Get away from here. Are you trying to ruin my business?”

He grabbed Yang Jian’s arm.

Yielding to the pull, Yang Jian raised his head in confusion.

In that brief interval, he seemed to have grown thinner again. A layer of shriveled skin clung to his skull.

He stared at the stall owner gripping his arm and swallowed hard.

A long, hollow growl sounded from his belly.

He was hungry again.

The stall owner jerked his hand away and stumbled backward several steps, nearly falling into the hot oil used for frying dough.

Fortunately, Lu Zhao and the others had noticed something wrong and gathered around. One caught him with a saber sheath.

“O-officers, that man looks like a starving wolf. He wants to eat someone!”

Zhao Li calmly watched Yang Jian’s mouth stretch wider as saliva ran from it.

When his nostrils flared and he looked her way, she pushed her untouched fried dough toward him.

“Eat some more.”

Yang Jian seemed to regain his senses.

“Thank you. Thank you. I couldn’t possibly…”

He lifted the plate and tipped every piece into his mouth.

He barely chewed. His throat worked several times, and everything vanished.

“Bring more.”

Zhao Li rose and stepped away from the table, one hand resting on her saber as she signaled to the stall owner.

The situation was too strange for even the slowest person to miss. The owner was about to refuse when Lu Zhao—the man who had just stopped him from falling—slid his saber two inches from its sheath with a metallic ring.

The owner hurriedly found a plate, piled it with freshly fried dough, and carried it trembling to Yang Jian.

“Thank you.”

As Yang Jian spoke, a large gob of clear, sticky saliva flew from his opening mouth and struck the owner’s hand.

The man recoiled as though shocked.

“M-mon…”

Monster!

Before the cry could escape, Lu Zhao reached from behind and clamped a hand over his mouth.

The owner made muffled noises and began to faint.

“Don’t pass out!” Zhao Li shouted. “Keep bringing food. Don’t let his mouth stop!”

She still could not determine what had parasitized Yang Jian.

For now, her only option was to control his hunger.

Zhao Li swept her gaze around the market, seized the trembling Head Constable Xing, and pulled him over.

“Is there a medicine shop nearby?”

Head Constable Xing watched Yang Jian pour a bowl of steaming soybean milk into his mouth like a snake and faltered.

“What?”

“A medicine shop! Find one now and move every medicinal ingredient here.”

Zhao Li’s order was meant not only for him but for Lu Zhao and the others.

Zheng Lian and several men sprang into action.

Lu Jianxing and Li Qing remained behind to clear the street.

“Don’t stop! Keep cooking!” Zhao Li told the breakfast stall owner. “Stay steady. Don’t panic! We’ll award you a banner for being an exemplary citizen afterward.”

The man was nearly in tears.

What sin had he committed? He wanted no banner from the Jingning Guard at all.

He complained endlessly inside his head, but he did not dare disobey Zhao Li. He kept frying dough and serving soybean milk.

Yang Jian ate too quickly.

Seated at the table, he swallowed everything in an endless stream.

In his haste, he bit down on the pottery bowl.

A piece broke from the cheaply made clay. Yang Jian crunched it between his teeth and swallowed it with the blood seeping from his gums.

“Lord Lu.” Zhao Li looked at Lu Zhao and lowered her voice. “Please return to the Pacification Office and inform Lord Shen. A monster has appeared. We need a group of skilled men.”

Lu Zhao glanced at Yang Jian, who was still voicing thanks but no longer looked human.

“All right. Be careful, A-Li.”

“Thank you. Is there any more?” the peddler Yang Jian asked humbly as he poured another bowl of hot soybean milk into his mouth.

The stall owner did not dare answer. His hands moved even faster.

The early-morning shoppers and merchants were driven roughly from the street by Lu Jianxing and several Jingning Guard officers.

This was no time for polite negotiation.

If the man lost control and revealed a monstrous form, he would begin feeding on blood and flesh.

Unless the area was cleared quickly, some lucky bystander might become a snack.

The merchants did not understand what was happening. Angry but afraid to speak, they withdrew and left their stalls in disarray.

Zhao Li glanced at the eating Yang Jian and moved behind him.

Her right hand closed around her saber hilt.

At the first abnormal move, she would kill him on the spot.

From Yang Jian’s account, the monster’s true body was probably his wife at home, and it should have matured over the past several days.

Zhao Li needed to preserve Yang Jian as a living specimen. Ideally, she could identify the parasite inside him and prepare a response.

“M-my lord, there’s nothing left.”

The stall owner had doubled his exhaustion through constant motion and rigid muscles. His hands trembled.

Tilting the pot, he poured out the final bowl of soybean milk.

“Nothing left?”

Before Zhao Li could respond, Yang Jian turned his head.

His eyes bulged. The corners of his mouth had stretched back to his ears, exposing blood-red gums.

“Is there really nothing left?” he asked hoarsely, staring greedily at the owner.

“There is!”

The man’s hair stood on end beneath that gaze. He hurriedly carried over the last bowl and looked desperately at Zhao Li.

She glanced around.

The nearby vendors had been driven away, leaving their goods behind.

Zhao Li hurried toward several baskets of vegetables and gourds.

“Food. Food.”

Yang Jian emptied the final bowl, then fixed his gaze on the stall owner.

The man slid down behind his chopping board, mentally replaying his entire life.

Yang Jian reached out both hands and swayed to his feet.

Then a cucumber was abruptly shoved into his mouth.

“Food. Take it.”

Zhao Li pushed a head of cabbage into his hands as well.

Yang Jian hesitated, seeming to struggle.

At last, he chewed and swallowed the cucumber, then lowered his head and bit into the cabbage.

Compared with fragrant fried dough, however, raw vegetables were plainly far less appealing.

Yang Jian’s wolfish gaze moved hungrily between the stall owner and Zhao Li.

Several times, he twitched as if to lunge at her.

Each time, the long saber in her hand frightened him back.