The late spring heat was a suffocating blanket, heavy and damp. My rented courtyard, once a secret sanctuary, felt cavernously empty. The silence where Xiao Kai's presence should have felt like it had a physical weight.
Xiao Qi too was missing, busy with his work at the Scholars Mark and the Four Corner's Cartographer's shops.
I'd heard nothing of Xiao Kai for several weeks, and I had a nagging suspicion that I'd just sent her to her demise. But for now I had to trust Censor Wang and his good judgement in the matter.
As I stood in the oppressive stillness, my eyes were drawn to the courtyard's main gate. Something was wrong. Fresh scratches marred the heavy wood near the iron lock and the thick crossbar. They weren't random marks. Three deep, parallel gouges splintered the dark wood, as if a heavy, three-pronged tool was used to test the timber and the crossbar's strength.
Someone was here last night and that meant this courtyard has served its purpose.
I'd have to pay Toothman Yao a visit to return my key.
I packed my essentials into a sturdy bundle: the secret ledgers from the Whirling Cloud, my precious pencils and mapping tools, and the few personal effects I'd gathered. Anything that could link me to Lord Feng or the "Black Wind Sword" was carefully secured.
Before unlatching the gate, I pressed my eye to a small crack in the wood. There were no obvious watchers, no thugs loitering on the corner, yet the feeling of being observed was palpable. I slipped out, pulling the gate shut with a soft click.
The city felt on edge. The heat had shortened tempers; I saw two merchants shouting at each other over a spilled basket of plums, their faces red and sweating. Even the City Guards patrolling the ward seemed sluggish and irritable.
I arrived at the familiar open-fronted shop with the single character "牙" hanging above it. Inside, the air was cooler. Toothman Yao was at his desk, and as I entered he looked up. A practiced, professional smile instantly formed on his face.
"Master Zhang! A pleasant surprise. The heat has driven everyone sensible indoors. What can Yao do for you on such a day?"
I didn't waste time I didn't feel I had with pleasantries. I stepped forward and placed the heavy iron key to the courtyard on his polished desk. It landed with a soft, final thud.
Yao's abacus calculations stopped mid-clack. His professional smile didn't falter, but his sharp eyes narrowed upon taking in my packed bundle.
"Ah," he said, his voice smooth and measured. "Leaving the city so soon? I had thought your business in the capital would be of a more… permanent nature."
He placed the key on his desk, his long fingers rested near it as he waiting for me to elaborate.
He was waiting for something, and I took a moment to find my words. After all, he was the one to provide the dossier on the silent pavilion wardens.
I was not sure if he'd be comfortable knowing the truth, but I've placed a lot of professional trust in him already.
"Alas, as you know, it's been a rather tumultuous several months at the Whirling Cloud," I said with a knowing smile. "But I'd certainly appreciate staying in touch. I'm not exactly gone."
A shrewd smile spread across his face. Yao leaned forward, his elbows resting on his desk, the professional distance between us collapsed ever so slightly. His voice dropped to the familiar, confidential tone of a man who deals in secrets.
"Ah," he said, with a genuine gleam of excitement in his eyes. "'Tumultuous' is a fine word for it, Master Zhang." He tapped a long finger on the iron key. "I see. The 'clerk' has concluded his audit."
He pushed the key to the side. "My business," he continued, "is to know which way the winds are blowing, and to offer a sturdy cloak to those who can afford one. A simple courtyard was suitable for a clerk. But for a man who is 'not exactly gone'... perhaps a different kind of property is in order?"
"Actually," I mused, "do you happen to have properties in dead ends? But preferably with a well-hidden second exit."
Toothman Yao's eyes lit up "A dead-end? Most clients in your position value multiple escape routes. A dead-end is a trap." He paused, and a grin split his face. "Unless, of course, the trap is not meant for you."
He turned and pulled a different scroll from a locked cabinet, one bound in plain, unmarked leather. "Yes... yes, I believe I have the perfect location for a man who wishes to control the board," he said, his voice filled with what I thought was pride. "In the Gaoyang Ward, there is a narrow, twisting lane called the Coiled Serpent Alley. It ends abruptly at the high, blank wall of a silk dyer's workshop."
He tapped the map. "At the very end of this alley is a small, unassuming courtyard. The rear of the courtyard has a small, dilapidated woodshed built against the back wall. However, the back panel of that woodshed is not a wall at all. It is a perfectly balanced, counter-weighted door, disguised with false brickwork. It opens silently into the kitchen yard of a noodle shop on the next street over."
He rolled the scroll up with a decisive snap. "It is the perfect mousetrap," he stated. "One way in for the cat, a second, hidden way out for the mouse."
"I think it will do perfectly." I had real money, a fresh purse of Feng silver to work with, so I could lease the courtyard for a few months, paid upfront.
He took my silver, weighed it on a tiny scale before it was swept into a drawer. He produced a new key and a simple lease agreement.
The transaction was complete and I pocketed my new key and lease. I paused at the door, a question that has been on my mind for some time burning it's way to the forefront. I rather liked Yao and I felt I needed to know.
"Do you deal in JianMin, Yao?"
The question landed with the weight of a thrown stone. The pleased, conspiratorial smile vanished from Yao's face instantly. His eyes became flat and cold. He stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable, as if he was reassessing everything he knew about me.
Finally, he spoke, his voice deliberate as he found the words. "Master Zhang. I am a yárén. I broker property. I broker information. I broker connections." He leaned forward, his hands flat on his desk. "I do not broker people. There are those in this city, a lower class of broker, who trade in flesh. They are not my colleagues." A flicker of profound, professional distaste crossed his face. "It is an ugly, messy business. I have no interest in one that is written in tears."
Then he searched my face for disappointment to which I could only present relief and a deep bow.
"Then if you need me," I said, "you can find me at the Garden of Serene Thoughts, the eastern side courtyard marked 'Zhang'."
Yao's hand, which was reaching for a stack of scrolls, froze. The moment of understanding we just shared was momentary.
He slowly lowered himself back onto his stool, a single name escaping his lips in a reverent, almost fearful whisper.
"Feng Shìláng..."
Then, a sharp, almost feral grin spread across his face the thrill of a master player who has just been invited to the highest-stakes table in the capital.
I was right about Yao. He loved this. He lived for this.
Yao rose from his stool and gave me a deep, formal bow, his hands clasped low in a gesture of profound respect. "I see now," he said, his voice imbued with a new gravity. "Forgive my previous... familiarity. Your business... has just become my most important account. You will have my complete discretion and my full resources, Sir."
He took a step back, clearing my path to the door. "Be careful on the road. The city is full of eyes."
I gave Yao a final, respectful bow and stepped out into the oppressive heat.
I sighed to myself. I was hoping for more of a friend than an oath of loyalty, but I supposed this would have to do.
My Feng estate courtyard was as I had left it, immaculately clean, cold, and utterly silent. The silence felt a different kind from when I first arrived here.
I dropped my bundle on the table in my study.
The Steward appeared not by walking through the gate, but by blinking into notice behind me, a column of dark silk against the pale spring light. He gave me a single, impassive nod.
"The Master anticipates your interest in the Chen case," his voice was flat and devoid of emotion. "He has made inquiries. The trial will be a closed session of the Ministry of Justice, convened in two weeks' time. A private retainer has no standing to attend."
He took a slow step into the room, laying a rolled decree tied with an official red ribbon and a neatly folded set of dark, woolen garments on my desk. The uniform was embroidered with the insignia of a government official. It was blue, like all the robes ninth grade officials were.
"Therefore," the Steward continued, "the Master has arranged for you to be appointed Collating Officer, diǎn jiào, of the Left Imperial Guard Armoury. Your duties will be light, focused on inventory and a technical review of existing siege equipment. However, the title grants you a grade nine official rank and the necessary access to observe proceedings on the Master's behalf."
He let the statement hang in the air. I was to have my access, but it came with a new chain.
"The Crown Prince's birthday celebrations are next month," the Steward added without blinking. "The Imperial Guard will be on high alert. You are expected to be present and fulfill your duties at the palace during the festivities."
"Who do I report to?" I asked, surprised by the abruptness of it all. "I know the rank is low, but I can't imagine I'd be able to stay here?"
The Steward, who had begun to fade into the shadows, paused. "Your official station is within the Left Imperial Guard Armoury," he replied. "You will report to its commander, Sun Li. He has been... apprised of your unique technical skills and understands that your primary duties remain to the Master. Your official reports to him are expected to be brief."
The implication was obvious: Commander Sun was also a piece on Lord Feng's board. My true chain of command had not truly changed.
"As for your residence," the Steward continued, "on the contrary. An unmarried junior officer without a family estate in the capital would typically be assigned to the cramped barracks near the palace. The Master, however, considers you a scholar of his household first, and a guard officer second. It is a sign of his continued patronage that you remain here. It would be... unseemly for a man of his favor to be seen in common quarters."
The next morning I waited for the official summons to my posting.
Then, at my first convenience, I reported to the Left Imperial Guard Armoury. I dressed with care, my modern sense of military bearing from my time as a cadet, a summer instructor in ceremony and drill no less, made the stark, woolen uniform look surprisingly sharp. My height probably helped too.
Commander Sun Li was a weathered, professional soldier who received me with a knowing look. "I have been briefed on the… special nature of your assignment," he said, his voice a gravelly baritone, I noted the weariness that underpinned his professionalism. "Vice-Minister Feng takes a great personal interest in your technical expertise. Your official duties here are to review our inventory and assess the readiness of our siege equipment. Your actual duties, I understand, are discretionary. You answer to him."
He gave me a tour of the Armoury, a cavernous space filled with racks of weapons and heavy siege engines.
Catching sight of how my eyes lit up upon seeing those machines, the Commander seemed to approve. "Consider the Armoury and its workshops a resource for your… research. You have full access. File a monthly inventory report to keep the scribes happy. Otherwise, your time is your own."
"Yes, Commander," I responded with a crisp martial salute. "Are there any men assigned to assist me in my work? I intend to do justice to my rank and office, despite my other obligations."
My earnestness seemed to please him. After a moment's thought, he assigned me an aide. "Trooper Meng. He's literate, diligent, and knows the inventory ledgers. He would serve you well."
"Sir, if you could direct me to him, I can see to it we get to work immediately."
This time the approving grin actually flashed across Commander Sun's face. Not the absentee poet he'd been expecting. "Immediate action. Good."
A few minutes later, Trooper Meng, a sturdy and earnest young man from a farming family in hubei, reported for duty.
He was tense and nervous. I couldn't blame him, I wouldn't have known what to expect either.
Dismissed from the Commander's presence, the two of us marched in step to the records hall, a dusty building filled with thousands of bamboo scrolls. To break the ice, I asked Meng about himself, like an officer on inspection. He answered dutifully.
Then, I introduced him to a notebook, charcoal pencil, and eraser. To my surprise, he whispered the name "The Scholar's Mark", with what I could only describe as a hint of pleasant surprise.
We spent that afternoon in a surprisingly productive rhythm. I submitted a preliminary report to an impressed Commander Sun, although admittingly it took a moment for him to decipher my writing.
"Please just use your 'Pencil' next time" He commanded before handing Meng coin with which he was to purchase more supplies from my shop if his pencils ran low.
I reminded myself to ask Xiao Qi about a military discount.
A steed had been stabled with the officer's horses on Lord Feng's account. Slowly I rode fairly precariously back to the estate, having only ridden a horse exactly once before.
I felt a pang of loneliness again as I approached my empty courtyard.
I awkwardly dismounted, but before I could open the gate, it creaked open from within.
Xiao Qi stood there, a lit paper lantern in hand which cast a warm glow. His fingers had been smudged with ink and he was clearly weary, but still his face broke into a wide smile. The aroma of simmering chicken and ginger soup drifted out from the kitchen.
"Welcome home, Master," he said, and my world finally felt warmer than the hot air around me. Xiao Qi took my horse's reins. "Dinner is almost ready."
A smile, the first relaxed one in days, touched my lips. "Thank you, Xiao Qi."
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