Snow Empress was still in the courtyard. She looked up and saw Yin Wujou carrying a bundle, and nodded slightly. "Leaving in three days. In the next couple of days, help A Yao organize the map; she'll need it on the way."
Yin Wujou responded, put the bundle back inside, came out and sat down at the stone table. He took a picture book from A Yao and began to look at it. Sunlight fell on the paper, illuminating the fine ink lines clearly. After looking at it for a while, he suddenly remembered something from a very distant time.
More than ten years ago, when he first joined the Spirit Vein Bureau, the Snow Empress sat in this very spot—perhaps at this very stone table—teaching him how to read the ley lines. Pointing to the ink lines on the map, she said that each line represented a ley line, connecting mountains, water, and the places where people lived. To understand ley lines, one couldn't just look at a single line; one had to look at the entire map, observing how they moved, converged, and dispersed. At that time, he only half-understood, finding the ink lines very complex. Now, looking at A Yao's father's map book, those ink lines suddenly became very clear. He could understand every single line, and he could discern the meaning behind every change in them.
He looked up and saw Snow Empress looking at him. Their eyes met briefly, and Snow Empress looked away first, looking down at the map. Yin Wujou didn't speak either, continuing to look at the map in his hands. The courtyard was quiet, with only the sound of pages turning and the occasional soft clatter of the abacus. The shadow of the old locust tree slowly shifted, moving from the west wall to the east wall. The sun rose high overhead and then slowly sank in the west.
The day passed both slowly and quickly. By evening, Yin Wujou had sorted out A Yao's picture album, arranging it by region and year. Zhou Yan had cleared up the storeroom's ledgers and made a list of missing items. Snow Empress circled a few more people in the capital on the list, planning to look for them the next day. The four of them discussed things for a while in the main hall by the light of lanterns, and then went back to their rooms to rest.
Yin Wujou lay on the bamboo couch, listening to the sound of turning pages in A Yao's room next door, and the occasional soft clatter of abacus beads in Zhou Yan's room. These sounds blended with the old courtyard of the former Spirit Vein Bureau, like a melody he was very familiar with but hadn't heard in a long time. He closed his eyes and tapped his fingers lightly on the thin blanket, as if following the rhythm of the melody.
He knew there was still much to do. The ley lines in the Hetao needed to be investigated, the old office needed to be repaired, the people on the list needed to be found one by one, and the Spirit Vein Bureau needed to be put back into operation. But at this moment, all he wanted to do was lie on this bamboo couch, listen to these sounds, and think of nothing. It seemed that the ten years of waiting had been for this moment. He turned over, facing the wall, and his breathing gradually became steady.
In the next room, Snow Empress was also awake. She sat on the edge of the couch, holding the copper bell she had taken from the lintel, examining the Southern Frontier runes on its inner side under the lamplight. Moonlight streamed in through the window paper, falling on the back of her hand. She placed the copper bell beside her pillow, lay down, and listened to the sound of the old locust tree in the courtyard rustling in the wind. This locust tree had grown in the old Spirit Vein Bureau Spirit Vein Bureau over a hundred years, witnessing both its most prosperous and its most desolate times. Now, it heard movement in the courtyard, lights turning on, and the clatter of an abacus.
She closed her eyes, her fingers resting on the copper bell. The bell was slightly cool, carrying a trace of the warmth of the daytime sunlight. She thought of nothing more, simply lying there quietly. The night breeze slipped in through the cracks in the window, rustling the papers on the table, stirring the lanterns under the eaves, and blowing through the branches of the old locust tree in the courtyard. Everything was quiet, as quiet as an unfinished piece of music, still slowly unfolding.
Meanwhile, far away in the capital, in a prison cell of the Court of Judicial Review, Vice Minister Pei sat alone under the lamp, with Meng Qi's suicide note spread out before him. He read it for a long time, then picked up a pen and wrote a line on the case file, " Meng Qi committed suicide; his crime ends with him. His family will not be questioned." After writing this, he put down his pen, leaned back in his chair, and gazed at the deep night outside the window.
Three days later, before dawn, Yin Wujou woke up.
He was awakened by a faint medicinal smell. Mornings at the old Spirit Vein Bureau always began with Zhou Yan decocting medicine; this was a habit the old folks had maintained, and now Zhou Yan had picked it up again. Yin Wujou put on his clothes and went out, and saw that there was indeed a small charcoal stove in the courtyard, with Zhou Yan squatting beside it fanning the fire. The water in the medicine pot was bubbling, and wisps of white steam rose up, dispersing into a thin mist in the morning light.
"This is for A Yao." Zhou Yan looked up and saw him, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. "She was organizing the albums until late last night and caught a chill; her nose is a little stuffy. I was worried she wouldn't be able to handle it on the way, so I brewed her some medicine to induce sweating."
Yin Wujou walked over and examined the medicine pot, recognizing the herbs inside—Saposhnikovia divaricata, Schizonepeta tenuifolia, and Perilla frutescens—all common herbs for dispelling wind and releasing the exterior, used in small doses. He nodded. "You haven't forgotten the tricks of the trade at your pharmacy."
Zhou Yan smiled, his face crinkling with wrinkles. "I can't forget it. My father always said that a doctor's skills are ingrained in your bones; you can't forget them even if you want to." He paused, stirring the medicine pot with his chopsticks as he said softly, "Speaking of which, I went back to check. The pharmacy is still open, run by my eldest son. Although his skills aren't as good as my father's back then, he didn't make any mistakes with the prescriptions. I stood across the street for a long time watching, but I didn't go in."
Why don't you go inside?
"I don't know," Zhou Yan said calmly. "I just feel... it's not the right time yet. Let's wait until things are sorted out at the Spirit Vein Bureau."
Yin Wujou didn't press the matter. He understood that feeling; some doors need to be cleared before you open them. He went to the well to fetch water to wash up; the water was very cold, which jolted him completely awake. The sky in the east changed from Mo Lan to grayish-white, and then slowly tinged with a layer of pale gold. The gray magpie in the old locust tree woke up, fluttered away, and flew back after a while, carrying a fresh twig in its beak.
A Yao didn't leave the house until after dawn. She was wearing a slightly worn light blue short-sleeved shirt, her hair was neatly tied back, and her eyes were a little dark, but she looked very energetic. When she saw Yin Wujou in the courtyard, she walked over quickly, carrying two picture books in her hands.
"Brother Yin, I've found the old records for those three springs east of the Hetao bend." She spread the album on the stone table and pointed to them with her finger. "This one is marked 'dried up after a three-year drought,' which is before the establishment of the Spirit Vein Bureau. This is the second one, marked 'stopped flowing after an earthquake.' The third one is even earlier, marked only with the words 'ancient spring, long abandoned,' without even a year."
Yin Wujou leaned closer to examine it. The three springs were arranged in an irregular triangle on the map, none more than twenty li apart. He gestured the distances with his fingers and asked, "What's between these three places?"
A Yao shook her head. "It's not marked on the map. My father's atlas only shows the direction of the ley lines, not the villages and roads. But judging from the terrain, it should be gentle slopes and hills, with a seasonal river running through the middle."
"We'll look at it when we get there." Yin Wujou closed the booklet. "Did you take your medicine?"