Hexing Street derived its name from its proximity to the Great Ferry River that spanned Sanxiang City.
Every morning and evening, swarms of fishermen would follow the river's current to Hexing Street's docks, setting up stalls in the fish market.
Any western district resident wanting seafood came here, some even traveled by carriage from other districts specifically for it.
The dockside fish market had its unique advantages.
At dawn, the fish were freshest, often still flapping, highly prized by wealthy households and restaurants.
By dusk, the fish had spent a day in wooden tubs, most belly-up, selling for less than even a tenth of their morning price.
Commoners would carefully pick through these dead fish, they were still decent for an occasional treat.
As darkness fell and dinner time passed, stalls gradually packed up.
Fishermen departed in small boats for villages outside the city, after all, nightly travel on water was often treacherous.
Under the sunset's glow, the market slowly grew deserted.
Zhang Dou hurried to pack his stall. Needing to buy writing supplies for his school-age child, he'd nearly missed the departure time.
That's when he noticed one remaining stall; its owner showing no intention to leave.
Glancing at the mountain-draped sunset, Zhang Dou approached.
He'd met the stallkeeper a few times before. "Wang Bingquan, time to go. The waterways will become difficult soon."
"Heh heh heh heh..."
Wang Bingquan emitted an eerie chuckle. His head was abnormally large, veins bulging across his face.
Zhang Dou retreated several steps before steadying himself.
In the man's stall's tub lay a single belly-up silver carp; both eyes gouged out, it was too unsightly and smelly to sell.
"Wang Bingquan, if it won't sell, take it home for soup-"
"Heh heh... or buy you instead?"
"Who wants your rotten fish? Fine, kindness wasted on ingrates."
Zhang Dou cursed under his breath. Wang Bingquan just kept on laughing, the sound raising hairs on one's neck.
Suddenly, Zhang Dou recalled some grim rumors; ones about Wang Bingquan himself.
Five fishermen had shared Wang Bingquan's village, taking turns selling their collective catch.
Days ago, while net-fishing on the Great Ferry River, all except Wang Bingquan had died.
The bodies hauled up by the Yamen were reportedly mangled beyond recognition; their eyes hollowed out completely.
Rumors claimed they'd been killed by water ghosts.
Zhang Dou couldn't help but pity Wang Bingquan, the old man had clearly lost his mind, why else would he be lingering at the abandoned fish market like this..
He sighed. "Wang Bingquan, I'll buy this fish. Go home early."
Wang Bingquan raised his head, staring fixedly at Zhang Dou, his lips stretching into an exaggerated grin.
"Three coppers."
Zhang Dou grimaced as he pulled out his purse. Desperate to be rid of this plague god already, he handed over several coins without even counting them.
Wang Bingquan deftly threaded straw through the fish's mouth and passed it over.
"Fry it. Silver carp's tender and the eyes are the best part."
Just as Zhang Dou reached for it, someone intercepted, snatching the straw rope with precise timing.
He turned to see a Yamen runner who hadn't been there moments before.
"You-"
Ren Qing made no move to return the fish. "Leave. Consider those three coppers buying your life."
Wary of authority, Zhang Dou swallowed his anger, but confusion still churned within him.
Why would two men fight over a stinky rotten fish? And what did he mean by 'buying your life'?
Baffled, Zhang Dou headed for the docks. Glancing back, he saw the two figures disappear into an alley.
The more he thought about things, the more wrong they seemed. Wang Bingquan almost seemed like a vengeful ghost from folklore.
He poled his boat away hastily.
Meanwhile, Ren Qing swayed the fish idly while scanning the alley.
His investigation into the headless corpses had revealed something: quite a few victims lived near water sources, this is what had lead him to Hexing Street.
Their common thread was that each victim had purchased a dead fish before eventually developing eye pain and ending up as headless corpses.
Other victims showed different patterns, proving the Hundred-Eyed One never showed himself, he was always killing through proxies.
At the alley's dead end, Ren Qing waited in pitch darkness.
Soon, glowing green eyes approached, accompanied by an eerie muttering:
"I didn't mean to kill them..."
"They deserved it. Deserved it."
"Not my fault. Can't blame me."
"Die die die die die!!!"
Wang Bingquan emerged, his twisted face brimming with malice.
"I came... to return your fish eyes..."
Something felt off about all of this. Ren Qing examined the fish, its scales were shedding, replaced by clusters of human eyes.
For a moment, the fish seemed freshly caught, so vivid it even made his mouth water.
His double pupils rotated.
The illusion shattered instantly.
Tearing open the fish's belly, a still-twitching human eye plopped out. He crushed it underfoot.
Wang Bingquan now faced the wall, trembling violently as if gripped by terror:
"Don't kill me! I did everything, I fed eyes to the living daily, even my fellow villagers!"
His tone shifted abruptly: "I didn't kill them! Just hid eyes in fish. They bought it, they deserved death!"
Ren Qing drew his dagger.
Wang Bingquan's head flushed crimson, eyeballs bulging grotesquely yet his gaze remained fixed.
The Hundred-Eyed One's power was illusion-weaving; controlling minds through hallucinations. Wang Bingquan was just a puppet in the end.
Ren Qing studied the wall.
Ordinary night vision wouldn't spot it, but his double pupils revealed everything:
A snail crawled along the bricks, a human eye growing between its antennae; staring back unnervingly.
Before Ren Qing could react, the snail exploded into sludge.
Wang Bingquan's throat gurgled. Clutching his severed neck, his head toppled and rolled away, vanishing down the alley.
Ren Qing naturally gave chase.
Judging from the methods used by the Hundred-Eyed One, it doesn't seem like he had just been promoted.
Rather, it feels like he has been hiding in Sanxiang City for a long time, and killing people to take their eyes is not a way of practicing the Blindless Method.
This wasn't just about the Blindless Method's cultivation.
Perhaps he was healing grave injuries.
Perhaps prolonging his dying life.
If so, he'd surely reached the Half-Corpse realm by consuming supernatural remnants.
Advancing to a Hundred-Eyed Demon Lord would require devouring another's remnant; not only is it a life-threatening task, but it is also impossible to find something like that so easily.
Is the other party creating chaos to cover up something?