Strange Tales of Tang Dynasty · Chat

Autumn, the second year of Jingyun. Night in Chang'an never truly turns pitch black. The lights of the hundred and eight wards merge into a hazy sea of luminescence. In the East Market, foreign merchants are still calling out for their last transaction. From Pingkang Ward, the sound of a pipa leaks through the high walls, intermittent and drifting, sounding like someone weeping. But recently, the people of Chang'an have not dared to cry. Because of the missing brides. Three months, seven women, all vanished on the night of their wedding. Halfway to their destination, the sedan curtains were pulled back—only to find them empty. The wedding gowns were folded neatly, and the red bridal veils lay at the bottom of the sedan, like withered flowers. Some say they saw a black cat transform into a female demon; others claim to have smelled a rich aroma of tea. That tea is called Chang'an Black Tea, worth its weight in gold, unforgettable after a single sip. Pei Jian, the Vice Minister of Personnel, sat upright in his study, a newly delivered dossier spread across the desk before him. He stared at it for a long time before finally picking up his brush and writing down a few words: *Recommend Su Wuming, Sheriff of Wugong County, to succeed as the Sheriff of Chang'an County.* "A disciple of Master Di," he murmured to himself, "surely he must have some skill." Meanwhile, on the other side of Chang'an, Lu Lingfeng, the General of the Jinwu Guards, was riding his horse down Zhuque Boulevard. Clad in silver armor and a white robe, with his spear resting across the saddle, his eyes carried all the pride of a noble heir. He had just returned from the Ghost Market, with a clue tucked into his belt—Yin Shilang, the man said to be capable of summoning female demons. "General," his subordinate reminded him cautiously, "the Grand General said that we are no longer permitted to investigate this case." Lu Lingfeng pulled the reins, bringing his horse to a halt, and cast a glance back at him. The moonlight fell across his face, half in light, half in shadow. "I shall investigate it regardless." Beneath the streets of Chang'an, deep within the Ghost Market, a scruffy old man was dozing off while clutching a wine gourd. The fragrance of wine mixed with the scent of medicinal herbs wafted from his body, and a pile of chicken bones lay scattered by his feet. His name was Fei Jishi. No one knew how many years he had lived in the Ghost Market, nor did anyone know just how miraculous his medical skills were. He rolled over and muttered in his sleep, "Black tea... brides... Old Fei here smelled it long ago, that scent isn't right..." High above Chang'an, dark clouds veiled the moon. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the direction of the conversation</choice> <choice id="2">Observe the current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance the current plot</choice> </choice_group>