Chun Shisanniang and Yao Xishui walked to the rouge shop of Ningxiang Pavilion. They looked out twice, and their gazes also fell on Han Qian and Zhao Ting’er across the street for an instant, but they didn’t detect anything amiss at all and walked into the shop.

At this moment, two more middle-aged men with wooden expressions squeezed through from behind, but they didn’t follow into the rouge shop. Instead, they stood guard outside.

“Are these agents under Lord Chai from the Right Division?” Zhao Ting’er asked Han Qian puzzled.

Han Qian nodded, thinking that Chun Shisanniang and Yao Xishui’s actions weren’t slow. Just yesterday they had talked about taking over the Ningxiang Pavilion rouge shop, and today they had already run over. But he didn’t think of pulling Zhao Ting’er to approach Ningxiang Pavilion. Instead, he continued crouching on the steps across from them, secretly observing the two Wanhong Pavilion assassins that Yao Xishui and the others had left outside.

After a while, he saw a fortune-teller holding an old banner inscribed with the seven characters “Happy in Heaven, Knowing Fate, Therefore Without Worry” come over to strike up a conversation with these two.

At this moment, Han Qian’s brows furrowed slightly. He thought that if other people deliberately watched left and right, they could very easily confirm that Wanhong Pavilion had sent over ten agents hiding in the crowd to watch the activity on Fengxiang Boulevard. This fortune-teller was the leader of these agents—looking at how the pole of his banner seemed quite heavy, perhaps it concealed a weapon.

Gao Chengyuan had replaced Chai Jian to serve as Vice Commander, commanding a crack force in the Dragon Sparrow Army, to demonstrate that the Marquis of Xinchang’s estate didn’t have the ambition to completely grasp the Dragon Sparrow Army in their hands. Chai Jian would establish the Secret Bureau’s Right Division under the title of Vice Commander of the Guard Camp.

However, seeing at this moment that Wanhong Pavilion’s informants arranged on Fengxiang Boulevard were actually reporting to people beside Yao Xishui, Han Qian guessed that Yao Xishui was very likely the actual controller of the Secret Bureau’s Right Division.

Chai Jian’s task was more likely to command the Guard Camp to prevent the Third Prince Yang Yuanpu’s personal safety from being threatened if the struggle intensified—after all, Chen De wasn’t entirely reliable.

“Young master, if you have Sister Chun manage the rouge shop, will Lord Chai’s side also insert additional informants inside?” Zhao Ting’er thought of something and asked.

“This is something they’ll definitely do. You just pretend not to know,” Han Qian said.

He was currently destitute with very limited resources in hand. Even if he didn’t use Chun Shisanniang to manage the rouge shop, he had no qualification to prevent Wanhong Pavilion from infiltrating personnel into the Secret Bureau’s Left Division. Moreover, the Secret Bureau’s Left Division’s agents and investigators were all enlisted households from the garrison military headquarters, with their families controlled by the garrison military headquarters. On what basis could Han Qian make them loyal only to the Secret Bureau’s Left Division and not be bought off or won over by Chai Jian and Li Zhigao?

Fortunately, everyone’s early-stage goals were aligned. There was temporarily no need to calculate these things.

At this moment, the welcoming carriages dispatched by the Palace Domestic Service turned into Fengxiang Boulevard. The crowd immediately stirred, surging forward, wanting to glimpse the style of an imperial wedding. The street patrol soldiers and the estate guard camp’s two to three hundred men barely managed to protect the welcoming procession that meandered over a hundred zhang, preventing it from being disrupted by the chaotic crowd.

Han Qian and Zhao Ting’er shrank back to the foot of the wall. The broken clay bowl in their hands was still knocked down by a hurriedly passing pedestrian, rolling three or four steps away and breaking into two halves.

The person who had bumped into Han Qian turned his head for a glance. Seeing two filthy, rancid-smelling beggars, he cursed about bad luck and squeezed to the front to watch the excitement.

Han Qian sighed. It wasn’t easy to find a broken clay bowl with old stains in the chipped rim at the residence. He hunched his body and squeezed forward, thinking to pick up the broken clay bowl split in two halves—it could still be used together.

At this moment, a father and daughter by appearance saw the two halves of the broken clay bowl on the ground and bent down first to help him pick them up.

The father was a middle-aged scholar wearing a round-collared, wide-sleeved casual robe. His cheeks were thin and long, with short whiskers on his upper lip—quite heroic and handsome. The daughter was uncommonly bright and beautiful, in no way inferior to Zhao Ting’er or Yao Xishui. Even more rare was that between her brows and eyes was a kind of simple, gentle demeanor that made one’s heart flutter. Even Han Qian was momentarily stunned seeing her.

Seeing the middle-aged scholar had an extraordinary bearing and sharp eyes looking over, Han Qian couldn’t guess this person’s background. Afraid of being seen through, he shrank his neck, retreating fearfully as if afraid of offending a noble person, not even daring to take the clay bowl.

“Here.”

The young lady handed over the clay bowl.

Han Qian wiped his hands several times with his robe before tremblingly extending them to receive the broken clay bowl. Then he retreated back to the foot of the wall, still trying hard to attempt fitting the two halves of the broken clay bowl back together.

“That girl is so beautiful!” Zhao Ting’er couldn’t help remarking in a low voice beside Han Qian with feeling.

Han Qian pulled Zhao Ting’er closer to him, telling her not to look around carelessly. This middle-aged scholar’s eyes were very sharp. If he didn’t want his identity seen through, at this moment he couldn’t have the slightest carelessness.

“This is for you!”

Probably seeing Han Qian and Zhao Ting’er’s timid appearance was too pitiful, the young lady took out a package of snack food wrapped in a silk handkerchief from her bosom and bent down to hand it over.

Han Qian observed the middle-aged scholar, hesitating for a while before standing up to receive the food from the young lady. He only made two meaningless mute sounds to express gratitude, then quickly shrank back beside Zhao Ting’er, as if afraid the food would be discovered and snatched away by other beggars.

“I still need to keep that handkerchief,” the young lady said embarrassedly.

Han Qian had Zhao Ting’er extend her hands to hold the pile of snack food, bowing as he handed the handkerchief embroidered with a fresh lotus to the young lady.

As the young lady was about to receive the handkerchief back, a robust woman from the side rushed over and snatched the handkerchief first, complaining to the young lady: “This beggar is sickly. What he’s touched isn’t clean. If the young miss carelessly touches it and contracts some epidemic disease, that would be troublesome—let this servant wash the handkerchief clean first, then return it to the young miss.”

The young lady was quite dissatisfied with the servant’s words, but she wasn’t accustomed to refuting others face-to-face. She could only furrow her delicate brows watching the robust woman put the handkerchief in her bosom. Seeing Han Qian staring over in a daze, she even smiled apologetically.

The middle-aged scholar saw the crowd ahead was too packed. He took the young lady’s hand and said: “We’ll just watch from here. Don’t squeeze forward anymore.”

“We could clearly wait inside the Third Prince’s residence for the bride to come over, but it was father who insisted on squeezing over to watch the excitement,” the young lady pursed her vermillion lips and complained reproachfully.

The father and daughter retreated to the foot of the wall by the street. Even though beside them were only two beggars timidly moving aside to make room, the middle-aged scholar only smiled faintly, unwilling to say much outside.

Separated by three or four steps, Han Qian lowered his head, concealing the doubt in his eyes.

As one of the Third Prince’s close attendants, Han Qian had only been invited to attend the formal banquet at the Marquis of Linjiang’s estate today. Besides this, among the thousands of civil and military officials in Jinling City, there truly weren’t many who qualified to attend the banquet today. For a moment he couldn’t guess what status this father and daughter before him had.

It was quite unfortunate that the estate’s guest list for today was in Guo Rong’s hands. Han Qian obviously had no reason to ask Guo Rong to look at the guest list.

“Lord Wang represents Chuzhou in bringing congratulatory gifts. Instead of enjoying honored guest treatment in the Third Prince’s residence, why are you on the main street squeezed together with these lowly commoners?” At this moment, a middle-aged man squeezed out from the crowded throng, staring at this father and daughter.

The middle-aged man had a thin build, an aquiline nose, and very deep eye sockets. Combined with his sharp pupils staring at the middle-aged father and daughter, his gaze appeared quite sinister, like a venomous snake watching others.

Han Qian saw this person squeeze out from the crowd with four robust men in casual clothing following behind him.

These four men all had chests and arms bulging like cast iron. Without looking at the weapons concealed at their waists, even barehanded, they weren’t people three or five strong men could approach. Looking again at the faint bloody killing aura emanating from them, he guessed they should be military experts who had survived bloody killing formations.

“Lord Zhao, instead of sitting at your post at the Military Strategy Office at this time, you’ve run to Fengxiang Boulevard. Could it be you’ve also been invited to drink and feast at the Third Prince’s residence today?” The middle-aged scholar stood by the street with hands in sleeves, facing the sinister man’s questioning with a calm smile.

Han Qian’s heart jumped slightly. He hadn’t expected the sinister man to actually be Bureau of Military Affairs Military Strategy Office Director Zhao Mingting. No wonder four military experts guarded his left and right at all times!

The Bureau of Military Affairs Military Strategy Office controlled cartography and surveying, military archives, and external military intelligence gathering. The Director held the rank of Sixth Rank Upper Grade. Among the full court of civil and military officials, he absolutely couldn’t be considered prominent, but no one dared underestimate the existence of the Bureau of Military Affairs Military Strategy Office.

Additionally, Zhao Mingting had another identity—he was the nephew of Shouzhou Military Commissioner Xu Mingzhen. Because of this, he was deeply trusted by Anning Palace in Jinling and was actually one of the core figures of Anning Palace and the Crown Prince’s faction.

At the same time, as Great Chu’s publicly acknowledged secret intelligence agency, the Bureau of Military Affairs Military Strategy Office—over these years, the vast majority of secret agents cultivated by Great Chu’s military were controlled in Zhao Mingting’s hands.

Han Qian guessed this should also be a fundamental reason why Zhao Mingting had sat at the Bureau of Military Affairs Military Strategy Office for ten years as if one day, unwilling to be promoted.

Otherwise, with Zhao Mingting’s qualifications and achievements, serving as Regional Inspector in a superior province like Chizhou like his uncle would absolutely not count as the slightest exceptional promotion.

Han Qian also hadn’t expected Zhao Mingting would appear in the crowd outside the Marquis of Linjiang’s estate. Then who was this Lord Wang before him who represented Chuzhou in bringing congratulatory gifts for the Third Prince’s wedding?

Looking at his bearing, he didn’t seem to be suppressed in the slightest by Zhao Mingting’s sharp and keen aura.

“Wang Wenqian…”

Zhao Ting’er saw Han Qian’s brows deeply furrowed as if pondering something. She used her finger to write three characters on Han Qian’s back.

Wang Wenqian, second son of former Prime Minister Wang Jixiong, currently serving as Chief Clerk under the Prince of Xin Yang Yuanyan, Defense Commissioner of Chuzhou?

Han Qian had too many matters to handle and deal with. The number of civil and military officials from the court’s various factions was too great, and the relationships between them were intricate and complex. He had Zhao Ting’er help organize rosters, but he himself hadn’t had time to properly sort through them once. At this moment, thanks to Zhao Ting’er’s reminder, he recalled who this middle-aged scholar before him was, secretly feeling he still needed to strengthen his homework in this area.

The Third Prince Yang Yuanpu was getting married. As an elder brother, the Prince of Xin Yang Yuanyan couldn’t return to Jinling to congratulate him, so he sent his foremost civil official Wang Wenqian to represent Chuzhou in bringing congratulatory gifts—this could be considered thoroughly courteous. Then wasn’t the girl beside Wang Wenqian precisely Wang Jun, Wang Wenqian’s only daughter who had missed a marriage connection with him by one step?

Han Qian was about to take a couple more looks at Wang Jun when he was subsequently attracted by the conversation between Zhao Mingting and Wang Wenqian.

“In the Third Prince’s eyes, what kind of goods could Mingting count as? How would I have the qualifications to sit at the table? Isn’t it just that Lord Niu is afraid rebellious parties and enemy spies will cause trouble at the Third Prince’s wedding and felt uneasy, so he sent Mingting over to watch?”

“Has Lord Zhao made any discoveries?” Wang Wenqian asked.

“Hasn’t Lord Wang also inserted quite a few informants in the crowd? What discoveries has Lord Wang made?” Zhao Mingting asked in return.

“Lord Zhao, you mean those clumsy agents?” Wang Wenqian said with a smile. “However, those clumsy agents all withdrew an hour ago. They also don’t seem like rebellious parties or enemy spies who would cause trouble. Lord Zhao surely won’t pin these goods on Chuzhou’s head, will you?”

“I thought that after Chuzhou’s agents inserted in the north were completely eradicated by Wang Shifan, you were desperately short of personnel and had no choice but to send some greenhorns to insert into Jinling for training,” Zhao Mingting said entirely unconcerned. “If I’d known earlier those greenhorns weren’t Lord Wang’s subordinates, Mingting wouldn’t have held back just now.”

Han Qian felt ashamed in his heart. If not for the misunderstanding between Zhao Mingting and Wang Wenqian, the first batch of agents the Secret Bureau’s Left Division sent into the city would have been completely eradicated by the Bureau of Military Affairs Military Strategy Office, and he would have greatly embarrassed himself before the Third Prince.

However, Zhao Mingting’s letting go without capturing his novice subordinates wasn’t to show mercy to Wang Wenqian’s subordinates. Obviously he believed Chuzhou had even more formidable elite agents lurking in hiding and wanted to find traces from Wang Wenqian, which was why he personally watched Wang Wenqian, right?

And Zhao Mingting showing himself to meet with Wang Wenqian at this moment was probably because after so long he still hadn’t seen through any flaws and wanted to provoke Wang Wenqian a bit, right?