Chu Dijiang nodded in agreement. “Go on.”

Zhu Pianpian was delighted, thinking she had caught a fat sheep. “First, write down the identity of the person you want killed. Then go to the Yaohua Pavilion in the Liu Family Tea House in Yangzhou. If someone asks ‘Would you like to eat meat?’, give them two taels of silver and reply ‘I prefer vegetarian food, please eat.’ After taking the money, they’ll say ‘There’s a fairy mountain at sea,’ to which you should respond ‘In the misty void.’ This completes the transaction. Hand over your pre-written note, and after reading it, they’ll quote a price. If you agree, pay a ten-tael deposit, with the full amount due upon completion.”

The small deposit didn’t mean the assassination would be cheap. Rather, it reflected that no one had ever dared to default on payment to the Misty Mountain Villa. The deposit merely signified the agreement.

“I’ll have someone provide you with a map to the Liu Family Tea House later,” Zhu Pianpian smiled even more gently. “Is there anything else you need to know, sir?”

Chu Dijiang was satisfied with this information. He could investigate other matters slowly on his own. Asking too much might reveal his intentions, and who knew if Zhu Pianpian had any connection to the Misty Mountain Villa?

“No,” Chu Dijiang said, promptly producing a 2,000-tael government note.

Zhu Pianpian’s eyes briefly swept over the two notes on the table. “In that case, please forgive this widowed woman for not seeing you out.”

“Farewell,” Chu Dijiang said.

An Jiu rose and followed him. At the steps, she suddenly turned back and caught Zhu Pianpian greedily examining the two notes.

An Jiu’s slightly intimidating gaze was hard to ignore. Zhu Pianpian felt a chill run through her body. Looking up, she met An Jiu’s cold stare and shuddered, her first reaction being to quickly tuck the notes into her bosom.

However, An Jiu did nothing and left.

Zhu Pianpian breathed a sigh of relief. Though still shaken, the thought of the more than two thousand taels of silver soon pushed everything else from her mind.

She reveled in the joy of having fleeced a fat sheep, not realizing that “what goes around, comes around.” Zhu Pianpian might very well have risked the rest of her life for these 2,300 taels.

Shortly after Chu Dijiang and An Jiu returned to their room, the waiter delivered the promised materials.

They carefully examined everything. The information about the Feng family was so detailed it could be called a “Feng Family Chronicle.” It even included details about how many concubines they had, each concubine’s background, whether they had children, and more outrageous details like the second madam of the Feng family’s elder brother keeping a dog, and the second master of the Feng family habitually taking a golden pill before intimate encounters with women…

“It’s hard to know what’s true,” An Jiu remarked. Some seemingly trivial details could be crucial, but she felt that Zhu Pianpian’s face screamed “swindler.”

Chu Dijiang took out all his banknotes. “I used to think I could never spend it all, but if we keep doing business with Zhu Pianpian, we’ll probably be penniless soon.”

The Konghe Army was a shadow organization, unlike regular government officials who received not only salaries but also land, food, and clothing allocations from the court. Instead, everything was converted to money and distributed to each member. Additionally, they received a large injury compensation for each mission completed, amounting to at least 7,000 taels a year. Chu Dijiang had been with the Konghe Army for over a decade. In the early years, his salary was lower, but still around 3,000 to 4,000 taels. Everyone in the Konghe Army was the same. With nowhere to spend the money and no time to use it, even social interactions didn’t require spending. Despite his efforts to splurge, he still had 79,000 taels left.

An Jiu, unfamiliar with the prices, felt that this nearly 80,000 taels indeed didn’t seem like much. “You’ve done poorly.”

She tried to recall how much she used to have in her account… How much was it? After pondering for a while, An Jiu realized she couldn’t remember, but she vaguely recalled that her last mission’s price was 2 million US dollars, of which she took 40%.

Purely in terms of numbers, Chu Dijiang’s wealth did seem paltry.

Chu Dijiang usually didn’t pay much attention to such matters, but he wasn’t entirely ignorant. He carefully recalled, “A meat bun only costs two wen. This money could last a lifetime.”

“Then Zhu Pianpian is too expensive,” An Jiu said. It wasn’t about the amount of money, but feeling cheated and bullied… This incident needed to be remembered.

“Should we stay another night?” Chu Dijiang gestured towards the window.

He was asking if they should continue observing the dock.

“Let’s go,” An Jiu said.

After all, it was just a momentary feeling, and there were many questionable things in the world. Even if something was wrong with the dock, it wasn’t their concern.

They left immediately, entering the city and easily finding the Liu Family Tea House using Zhu Pianpian’s map.

The tea house was located in a narrow alley, neither bustling nor desolate.

They found a hidden spot to observe from afar. While searching for a vantage point, they realized that although the tea house looked ordinary, blending in with the surrounding dilapidated buildings, its interior was completely hidden from view from any angle.

After several days of observation, they understood the tea house’s routine connections with certain outsiders. For instance, someone from the shop would go to the market every morning, someone would come to collect kitchen waste in the evening, and two regular customers would come for tea daily. These people didn’t arrive at fixed times, but their visits never varied by more than two hours.

Chu Dijiang had followed each of these four people separately but found nothing suspicious.

Everything seemed normal during this period.

However, they weren’t in a hurry. After all, hiring assassins wasn’t an everyday occurrence. They patiently monitored for over a month, during which Chu Dijiang even went in for tea twice, but to no avail.

Chu Dijiang speculated that either Zhu Pianpian had sold false information, there was no recent business, or they had missed something during their surveillance…

The mission deadline was eight months. They had spent a month on the road and over a month monitoring this tea house to find the Misty Mountain Villa’s headquarters. The villa would certainly be even more heavily guarded, requiring more preparation time. They couldn’t afford any more delays, so Chu Dijiang decided to test the waters.

With his superior qinggong skills facilitating covert movement, Chu Dijiang was better suited for tailing. Thus, the task of hiring an assassin fell to An Jiu.

They agreed to meet at the Qingfeng Restaurant in five days and then went their separate ways.

It was past noon, and the sky was overcast.

Business was slow at the Liu Family Tea House, with only a few regular customers. Upon entering, An Jiu saw no waiter, only an elderly man in his seventies dozing at the counter.

An Jiu tapped on the counter, and the old man slowly opened his eyes. “What tea would you like, customer?”

“Do you have any private rooms?” An Jiu asked.

The old man seemed to wake up a bit more. He took out a set of bamboo tags and spread them on the counter, each bearing the name of a private room. An Jiu looked them over and chose “Yaohua.”

“Upstairs, turn left, last room,” the old man said.

An Jiu went up on her own and entered the room.

After a while, a waiter came in and asked, “What kind of tea do you usually drink, customer?”

An Jiu was most accustomed to plain water, but since she was in a tea house, she couldn’t just order that. “Tieguanyin,” she said.

“We also have other food. Would you like to try some?” he asked with a smile. “Would the customer like to eat meat?”

Hearing this, An Jiu carefully examined the man. He was around thirty, with a lean build and a face full of wrinkles when he smiled. His eyebrows and hair were sparse, and his lips were thick. When he grinned, you could almost see his back molars.

She took out two taels of silver from her bosom and placed them on the table. “I prefer vegetarian food. Please eat.”

The waiter’s grin widened as he pocketed the silver and said, “There’s a fairy mountain at sea.”

An Jiu took out a piece of paper from her sleeve and handed it to him. “In the misty void.”

The waiter took the note, unfolded it, and glanced at it before nodding. “The total is 6,000 taels, with a 10-tael deposit.”

When Chu Dijiang wrote that note, An Jiu was beside him. It said “Yangzhou Cui Linglong, Zhu Pianpian.” Didn’t Zhu Pianpian say she charged 2,000 taels because she had to bear responsibility? Well, now she would have to bear it. Chu Dijiang and An Jiu felt this was entirely justified and had no qualms about it.

An Jiu paid the silver as instructed, thinking to herself that Zhu Pianpian’s life seemed quite valuable.

The waiter continued, “In a month, we’ll hang the head at Ten Mile Slope outside the city. Bring the remaining payment when you verify the goods. If it’s inconvenient for you, we can also come to collect it. May I ask where you reside?”

“Qingzhu Lane in Hangzhou. My surname is Lü, courtesy name Shuangyu,” An Jiu recited the identity Chu Dijiang had prepared for her.