Zheng Shunshun sighed with immense regret and immense resignation, and the look he directed at An Ciru was one of considerable complexity.
Such a look—if it had belonged to a young woman, with its three parts resignation, three parts reluctance, three parts grievance, and ninety-one parts petulance—would have left a man completely spellbound.
But he was a man, and when a man directed such a complicated look at another man, the interpretation became considerably simpler.
An Ciru saw that look, and his immediate first thought was: *this fellow has something he wants to say.*
Zheng Shunshun sighed: “We don’t want to leave—we have no choice. You know what happened a few days ago. When I led some of our men back to the Prince’s residence to move things, we happened to run into assassins who had infiltrated the compound…”
His tone was suffused with sorrow. “We could never have imagined our luck would be so poor. We were already struggling in the capital—do you think we wanted to take on a royal-edict delivery mission as dangerous as this one?”
“Then to arrive in Qingzhou and think we had found a worthy patron—our superior had even hoped to accomplish something meaningful here, to leave a good impression on the Qingzhou Prince, a chance for good birds to choose a branch worthy of their perch. And now this happens again. It’s no longer safe to stay in Qingzhou, so today I’ve come to bid you farewell.”
Zheng Shunshun pointed at the object. “Inside that, there is a letter. Written on it is an address, along with a key—it’s a residence within Daxing City. Consider it a gift from us.”
An Ciru was clearly taken aback, not having anticipated so substantial a gift.
He quickly rose to his feet. “Such a generous gift I cannot accept—it is far too valuable.”
Zheng Shunshun waved this aside. “What is there valuable about it? If we had money, we’d have simply left you a good heap of silver. Unfortunately we don’t live very well ourselves, and what we can offer is just this one residence in Daxing with about a hundred empty rooms.”
An Ciru: “…”
Zheng Shunshun said: “I personally selected this house for you. Spacious, excellent fengshui—everyone says whoever lives there will never want for food or clothing.”
A cell in the Dali Court’s prison was certainly spacious—drafts came through from all directions, water seeped in freely; naturally the fengshui was excellent.
An Ciru also understood that the other party wanted something from him, so he went along with it: “If you could stay, we would certainly grow much closer. But since you’re determined to return to the capital, I don’t know what I could do to help you.”
Zheng Shunshun immediately followed up: “There’s nothing that requires your help—it’s only that when we depart, if you could put in a kind word for us before the Prince, so that things won’t be made difficult for us, that would be all.”
An Ciru thought to himself: if I put in a kind word for you and the Prince finds out I’ve gone behind his back, he’ll have me flayed alive with your lot invited to watch.
“Actually…”
An Ciru ventured a careful probe: “I have always wanted to go live in the capital. I’ve wanted that for a long time.”
Zheng Shunshun was sharp—he immediately caught the unusual undertone in those words.
An Ciru was a trusted confidant of Gan Daode, and quite comfortably established in Wulai City. If this wasn’t mere pleasantry, then it pointed to a very serious problem.
And the tone in which An Ciru said it was clearly not pleasantry.
Zheng Shunshun turned the matter over in his mind, then smiled and said: “If you want to go, what could be simpler? We’ll go together.”
An Ciru’s eyes lit up at once, and he said with eagerness: “If I really went, I would know no one in the capital but the few of you—I would have to rely on you all for much.”
Zheng Shunshun raised a hand and gave An Ciru a pat on the shoulder. “That’s nothing at all. Just say the word that you want to go to the capital, and we’ll arrange everything for you. The house I picked out for you—you can move in bag and baggage, or without any baggage at all.”
He had originally come intending to bribe An Ciru, but this new discovery had prompted an impromptu change of plan—set his own business aside for now and first dangle An Ciru’s appetite.
What had started as asking a favor had shifted into having someone ask a favor of him. The reversal was rather amusing.
The two of them chatted for a little while longer before Zheng Shunshun took his leave and headed back, turning things over in his mind as he walked: this An Ciru definitely had some important, hidden secret.
And that secret was certainly damaging to Gan Daode—otherwise An Ciru would have no reason to be thinking of flight.
—
Li Chi’s residence.
For the past two or three days, Li Chi and the others had been minimizing their outings, waiting on word from the Gui Yuan Sect.
After the incident, Gan Daode’s guard had been raised—patrols on the streets had grown considerably more numerous than before, and the forces stationed outside Li Chi’s residence had more than doubled.
It was clear that Gan Daode had his suspicions about Li Chi and the others. After all, it was after their arrival that the assassin incident had occurred.
Even so, Gan Daode’s men had not blocked anyone from leaving—over the past two or three days, Dantai Yajing had gone out to test the waters and found himself free to come and go, though he was questioned about where he had been and, if he’d been shopping, what he had bought.
Li Chi and the others were sitting in the courtyard pavilion making idle conversation when Dantai Yajing returned, and everyone looked toward him.
Dantai Yajing walked up to them and released a long sigh, his expression one of remarkable complexity.
Li Chi asked: “What happened?”
Dantai Yajing looked at Li Chi. “Am I too handsome?”
Li Chi: “I honestly don’t know how to respond to that. I’ve had the same affliction myself, I just never had the nerve to say it out loud.”
Dantai Yajing said: “I went out to test the waters just now—the Slayer King’s soldiers didn’t stop me, so since I was already out, I thought I’d pick up a few things.”
He looked at Li Chi and said with some indignation: “Then I was insulted.”
Li Chi looked at him, thinking: with your martial skill, who could possibly insult you?
Dantai Yajing said: “I was walking along the street when a beautifully appointed carriage suddenly pulled up, and an attractive woman got out and rudely blocked my way. She asked me, without any preamble, whether I could accompany her for the day—and if so, she would buy me new clothes.”
He looked at Li Chi, his expression conveying: if this had happened to you, what would you have done?
Li Chi pondered for a moment, then replied: “You should accompany her for two days. I’d like an outfit too.”
Dantai Yajing: “…”
Yu Jiuling sighed and sat there swinging his legs. “Those of us who are beautiful men are always running into this sort of trouble when we go out. It’s such a burden!”
Dantai Yajing said: “Do you know what your ‘those of us who are beautiful men’ does? It makes anyone who hears it assume the woman I just described is thirty years older than she actually was.”
While they were trading jests, the man standing watch outside came in to report that Lord Gui of the court was here requesting an audience.
Li Chi and the others all rose to their feet, for this was a signal.
If Gui Yuanshu had come himself, it meant either that something major had occurred, or that everything that needed to be prepared was in place and they were ready to move.
That very night, in Wulai City, at the Xingfang House.
After two pots of wine, An Ciru had become noticeably more talkative.
Li Chi, disguised, had adopted the appearance of one of Gui Yuanshu’s attendants, and stood quietly in a corner throughout, saying nothing, only listening.
Gui Yuanshu sat beside An Ciru, occasionally offering a few words of reassurance.
An Ciru’s volubility at this point amounted to little more than complaints—that Gan Daode had never really treated him all that well, and anxieties of the sort that accompanying a lord was like accompanying a tiger, and remarks that he had long wanted to seek better prospects elsewhere.
He appeared to be drunk, but was in fact still probing—hoping Gui Yuanshu would take him to the capital.
Gui Yuanshu played along with his performance, thumping Zheng Shunshun on the chest and promising that he could leave everything to him.
Zheng Shunshun looked at Lord Gui and thought: that rather hurt.
On the way back, Li Chi said quietly to Gui Yuanshu: “This man definitely has something to hide. I’ll keep watch on him myself—if anything comes up, I’ll find a way to inform you.”
With that, he slipped off the carriage, startling Gui Yuanshu.
Li Chi made his way back quietly, trailing An Ciru—only to discover that instead of returning directly to the Prince’s residence, the man turned off in a different direction.
Li Chi ducked into an alley and stripped off the outer robe he’d been wearing—beneath it he wore a night-combat outfit—and wrapped a black cloth around his face, then continued the pursuit.
Before long, An Ciru stopped outside an inn, cast a careful glance around in all directions, then turned and walked on without entering.
About a quarter-hour later, An Ciru made a long circuit and arrived at the inn’s rear entrance. He knocked at the door—lightly, and in a particular rhythm. Someone opened the back door and An Ciru slipped inside.
Li Chi lay flat on a rooftop across the way but dared not make any hasty move—for he had already noticed that the inn was not what it appeared.
Inside and outside the inn: skilled fighters, everywhere.
In other words, there was another group within Wulai City beyond Li Chi’s own that was plotting something.
Li Chi committed the knock-rhythm to memory and stayed where he was on the rooftop without moving.
With careful, unhurried movements, he drew out his far-sight glass and trained it on the inn. Through a lit window at the rear, he could dimly make out An Ciru’s silhouette—the man had dropped to his knees and was kowtowing the moment he entered.
Li Chi was inwardly startled. Could it be that An Ciru was a spy planted by another of Gan Daode’s enemies?
If so, the plan would need to change yet again.
About another quarter-hour passed before An Ciru emerged from the inn—again through the back door—and left with hurried steps.
Li Chi withdrew with great caution, acutely aware of the dangerous presences emanating from inside and around the inn.
Half an hour later, Li Chi returned to the residence—carrying An Ciru.
He had vaulted over the rear garden wall; with his abilities, slipping past the Slayer King’s guards posted outside was no great difficulty.
Dantai Yajing was on watch that night and moved to intercept the moment someone came over the wall—then noticed the black cloth covering the newcomer’s face, which bore an embroidered pattern of a small, adorable duckling.
“Chief, could you be a little less flashy…”
Dantai Yajing pointed at Li Chi’s face-covering. “That pattern…”
Li Chi said: “Never mind all that, just take him—I’ve been hauling this fellow the whole way here and he’s heavier than he looks.”
Dantai Yajing asked: “Who is it?”
Li Chi said: “That wealthy woman who wanted you to keep her company for a day. I brought her back for you. You take her for two days, Yu Jiuling takes her for two days, and I’ll have two new outfits.”
Dantai Yajing: “Nonsense…”
He took the person and assessed. “It’s a man?”
Li Chi: “My, you sound disappointed.”
Dantai Yajing: “Ha…”
Before long, in a cleared-out room, Yu Jiuling upended a basin of cold water over An Ciru to bring him around.
The moment An Ciru opened his eyes, his instinct was to cry out—Yu Jiuling immediately clapped a hand over his mouth and said with fierce menace: “Make a sound and I’ll have you castrated first. Stay quiet and nothing bad will happen. We mean no harm.”
An Ciru stared around in terror—then realized he knew everyone in the room.
These were people from the Shanhai Army—he had at least seen all of them before.
Li Chi said: “Let me offer you an apology in advance. What he just said about meaning no harm was a lie. Every one of us is currently very much armed with harmful intent.”
He looked at Yu Jiuling. “Start by cutting out his tongue so he can’t make any noise.”
Yu Jiuling immediately drew his dagger.
An Ciru immediately lowered his voice. “I won’t make a sound—whatever you want me to do, as long as you don’t kill me, I’ll do anything!”
Yu Jiuling said: “That won’t do at all. You agreed far too easily. When people agree too easily, there’s always something wrong. We’d better cut something off him first and discuss it afterwards—things that come too easily, we don’t want!”
An Ciru: “???!!!”
—