There's Still a Mole

The Catching Yamen, inner hall.

"Brother Fang, what brings you here today...?" Hou Ping hurried inside.

The bloodshot veins in Fang Xiao's eyes stood out even more. He was leaning back in his chair, his head propped up as he rested. Hearing the voice, he opened his tired eyes.

He had kept watch at Hou Ping's house all night, afraid the Teahouse Owner and that little girl might make a move against Hou Ping under cover of darkness.

Fortunately, nothing had happened. After seeing Hou Ping go out to buy breakfast, Fang Xiao had returned to the Catching Yamen ahead of him.

"I'm getting on in years. Staying up for so many days in a row is taking its toll."

Hou Ping set the tofu pudding, buns, and fried dough sticks on the table, then went over to brew a pot of hot tea. "Brother Fang, there's something I'm not sure I should say."

"What is it?"

"I think staking out Wheat Valley Alley is a waste of time." Hou Ping suddenly sounded indignant. "Every afternoon, Shao Pengshu and the other two put on those damn uniforms and go drink tea at the stall across from Wheat Valley Alley."

"Unless the killer's an idiot or blind, there's no way we'll catch them!"

At the doorway, Zhang Yi, disguised as Yuan Chengji, had been enjoying a meat bun. It had tasted pretty good, but that sudden crack about "damn uniforms" made him freeze.

Fang Xiao glanced outside, then turned to Hou Ping with a meaningful look.

"Brother Hou, could I speak with you privately?" His expression was grave.

Hou Ping paused, the indignation gradually fading from his face.

The two went to the small courtyard behind the Catching Yamen.

"What do you have to say, Brother Fang? Why all the secrecy?"

Fang Xiao looked at Hou Ping and sighed. "You figured it out a long time ago, didn't you?"

"Huh?" Hou Ping laughed, feigning ignorance. "Figured what out?"

"Brother Hou, that day in the hall, you called Shao Pengshu and the other two ungrateful wretches, then said you wanted to poison them. You were doing that on purpose, weren't you?"

The smile froze on Hou Ping's face.

Fang Xiao continued, "You knew Shao Pengshu and I were putting on an act, but you pretended not to notice and played along with me."

"Fang Xiao is truly grateful!" He bowed slightly and saluted.

Hou Ping had been a constable for over a decade. How could he be a dullard?

"Brother Fang, don't do that." Hou Ping hurried to help him up. "You know what my wife is like—she makes a fuss about everything. If you'd told me, I couldn't guarantee I'd keep it from her. It would've been awful if that had ruined your plans."

Hou Ping had long suspected that Fang Xiao and Shao Pengshu were plotting something, but a suspicion was only a suspicion.

Then he added, "If Brother Fang hadn't taught me the Body Forging Technique back then, I'd probably still be wandering around, scrambling to earn enough for my daily meals. I trust you, Brother Fang."

"But, Brother Fang, how did you know I was doing it on purpose that day?"

"Your eyes."

Outside Willow Town, a carriage slowly rolled along the gravel road leading into town.

"Lord Zheng, we're almost at Willow Town." The man driving the carriage adjusted his straw hat and spoke respectfully toward the back.

"Mm. Here will do," came a voice from inside the carriage.

"Yes." The driver jumped down and bowed. "This humble one still needs to deliver the monthly allowance to the Third Young Master. I'll take my leave first."

"Get lost."

At the cold command, Qin Gui lowered his head and walked away.

Only after he had gone more than a mile and could no longer see the carriage behind him did the fear on his face slowly recede. He wiped the sweat from his brow.

Inside the carriage.

Zheng Xiguan lifted the curtain, revealing a bloodless face. Under the sunlight, it looked as though an actor had painted his face white.

He raised a hand and impatiently shielded his brow, gazing ahead with a careless look.

Through the sparse branches, Willow Town appeared and disappeared from view.

He reached inside the carriage and took out a tiny arrow. Then he tossed it into the air, where it instantly became a blood-red streak of light, invisible to the naked eye.

With only the faintest sound, the streak shot toward Willow Town.

Willow Town, North Street.

"Crimson Blood Streamer Arrow—it's a message from Protector Zheng!" The Teahouse Owner caught the streak of light.

"Protector Zheng?" The little girl's face changed. "Why is he the one who came?"

"Where is he?"

"Outside town."

"What does he mean? Does he expect this Young Master to go greet him in person?"

"Young Master, Protector Zheng told us to leave town at once!"

"How dare he order me around?!" The little girl was furious.

"Young Master... we should go see what's going on," the Teahouse Owner urged. "Protector Zheng must have a reason for doing this."

The Young Master sat on the chair, her tiny body and pouty lips giving her an air of petulance. "It's not impossible, but Old Hong, you have to be on my side."

"Rest assured, Young Master. This old servant will absolutely stand by your side."

An old man and a young girl picked up the tea stall and headed out.

As soon as they left, Shao Pengshu, who had been watching nearby, secretly followed them.

But the longer he tailed them, the stronger the ominous feeling in his heart became.

"They're leaving town!"

What should he do?!

For a moment, he couldn't decide whether to keep following them or go back and tell Fang Xiao.

Just as he was struggling to choose, a familiar figure appeared in the shadows.

Yuan Chengji!

No, Zhang Yi!

Why was Zhang Yi hiding here?

Shouldn't he have been disguised as a runner and following Instructor Fang?

A flicker of confusion crossed his mind, and he cautiously crept closer.

Zhang Yi was concealed in a dark corner, watching the Teahouse Owner and the little girl.

At the same time, he occasionally glanced toward other directions—one of which was where Shao Pengshu was creeping up.

When Shao Pengshu was only a few meters away, Zhang Yi seemed genuinely startled, as if he'd been frightened.

"It's me." Shao Pengshu held Zhang Yi in place. "Why are you here?"

"Constable Shao?!" Zhang Yi breathed a sigh of relief. "Instructor Fang sent me to find you."

"Instructor Fang is looking for me?"

"Mm." Zhang Yi replied without betraying anything.

Shao Pengshu watched the Teahouse Owner and the little girl moving farther away, his expression solemn. "Zhang Yi, follow them. Remember, don't let them spot you. Your safety comes first."

"Okay." Zhang Yi nodded and followed them, while Shao Pengshu hurried back to find Fang Xiao.

At the end of West Street, in a small courtyard.

Chu Ming sat in the middle of the courtyard, flipping through Poetry, Politics, and Military Strategy.

"Young Master, would you like some water?" Xiao Shan brought him a cup.

"Just leave it there." Chu Ming didn't look up.

This was already the fifth bowl of water Xiao Shan had brought him. He really couldn't drink any more.

The little maid's thoughts were all on him, but Chu Ming knew he couldn't hesitate in the slightest.

"Young Master, would you like some pastries?"

"No."

Still, Xiao Shan set down a plate of pastries.

They were still warm. The little maidservant must have gotten up early to make them.

Xiao Shan stood beside him, unsure what to do.

"Third Young Master."

Just then, a voice came from outside the courtyard.

Beyond the wall, Qin Gui's face was cold as he knocked on the wooden door.

"It's Qin Gui!" Xiao Shan knew the voice well. "It's only been twenty-something days—not even a month. Why is he bringing the monthly allowance already?"

She muttered under her breath as she went to open the door.

When the courtyard gate opened, Qin Gui wasn't alone outside. A young man stood beside him, wearing a rather strange expression.

"Brother Chu!" Huang Lu carried a bundle of medicinal herbs in each hand. He bumped into Xiao Shan and barged into the courtyard.

Chu Ming closed Poetry, Politics, and Military Strategy and frowned at him.

Before he could speak, Huang Lu set the two bundles of medicinal herbs down on top of the book. He raised an arm, about to drape it over Chu Ming's shoulder.

Chu Ming shifted slightly, avoiding Huang Lu, his gaze sharpening in an instant.

Just as Huang Lu raised his arm, Chu Ming caught a certain smell mixed in with the medicinal herbs: the stench of blood and... rot.

Huang Lu hadn't smelled like this the last time Chu Ming saw him.

"Brother Chu, my father specially prepared these herbs for you. Taking them can not only cure every illness but also strengthen your body."