Just as the black pigeon flew over the crooked eaves of the dilapidated temple, Lalong leaped out from the base of the wall, his toes landing on half a millstone, and his palm clenched into the air.
The black pigeon flapped its wings twice, but he grabbed the base of its wing, and the bamboo tube struck his palm with a soft sound.
Lalong fell back into the alley, his back against the moss-covered wall.
He first touched the pigeon's chest to make sure the bird was still alive before pulling off the thin rope from its leg and taking out the scroll of paper from the bamboo tube.
"A Gu Poisoning Vessel Infused with the Filth of Ten Thousand People."
"Heavenly Thunder Furnace."
"To brew a substance that is extremely yin and completely eliminates poison."
Lalong's hand stopped at the last line.
The fumes from the night market drifted into the alleyway, mingling with the strange smell wafting from the public toilets. In the distance, people were queuing, jostling to squeeze into the brick building.
This secret report, which was written in Chen Qing, connected all the absurd events.
The lightning that Severed Dragon Ridge.
The blast furnace at Ten-Li Slope.
The filth collected in the city.
Prince Yi Gu Moran, is going to concoct poison.
Lalong looked up at the public toilet and exhaled.
The Great Shaman of Silver City once warned them before the fire altar that the most feared aspect of Central Plains witchcraft was the mixing of bloodlines.
If the Gu gu is contaminated with the filth of a foreign race, at best the medicinal properties will dissipate, and at worst it will backfire on the caster.
If the secret report in his hand is true, it would be an opportunity for Tubo.
Lalong pulled a thin sheet of oiled paper from his waist, took out a charcoal pencil, and, by the light leaking from under the eaves of the dilapidated temple, copied the contents of the paper scroll.
He wrote quickly, and after finishing, he carefully hid the copy on his person, rolled the original letter back into the bamboo tube, and re-tied it to the black dove's leg.
The black pigeon fluttered and flew north, its wings sweeping across the night and quickly disappearing from sight.
Lalong straightened his robes and walked toward the dispersing night market.
At the lamb offal stall, red chili oil floats on the surface of the soup.
"Sir, would you like a bowl?"
Lalong stared at the black pot, the words of the high shaman flashing through his mind, and then glanced in the direction of the public toilet.
It refers to the Tubo.
For Silver City.
The leader is Chisang.
He raised three fingers.
Three bowls.
The shopkeeper was stunned. "Three bowls? With your build, how could you possibly eat three bowls?"
My lamb offal is really spicy; eating too much at night will give me a stomachache.
Lalong took out some loose silver from his sleeve and slapped it on the table.
"The spiciest."
A moment later, three rough porcelain bowls were stacked on the side of the table.
Lalong finished the food in one go, sweat beading on his forehead, his stomach burning.
He picked up the cold water the stall owner offered him, gulped it down, and then went to the fruit stall next door, where he bought two plates of freshly pulled green fruit from the water.
The fruit stall owner clicked his tongue in amazement.
"Sir, do you have a grudge against your stomach?"
Lalong ignored him.
Swallow the raw, cold fruit and wipe the grease from your mouth.
Suffering a little is nothing as long as we can destroy Prince Yi's Gu poison.
It was late at night, in front of a public toilet.
The old guard at the gate was sleeping when he was startled awake by footsteps. He glanced at Lalong:
"New here? Get your toilet tickets again when you come out. One ticket per person, don't take more than one."
Lalong didn't understand what a toilet ticket was, and stepped inside.
By the moonlight, one could see that the pits were divided into individual compartments, with blue bricks paving the ground.
A wooden plaque was pasted on the wall, with a few lines of words written on it in vermilion.
"Practice good hygiene, get sick less often."
Wash your hands after using the toilet.
"Littering will result in a fine of ten coins."
Lalong stood in front of the wooden sign, his molars aching from grinding against it.
Gu Moran even uses rules to bewitch people when it comes to urination.
He chose the innermost stall, closed the wooden door, and as soon as he unbuckled his belt, a sharp pain shot through his abdomen.
Lalong gripped the wooden plank, his face drained of all color.
Those three bowls of mutton offal were probably undercooked because the owner was in a hurry to close up shop.
Those two plates of green fruit shouldn't be eaten on a winter night.
"Damn it..."
He had barely uttered the curse when his stomach churned again.
A loud, barely suppressed noise came from behind the wooden door.
The old soldier outside the door covered his nose and said, "Hey you inside, what did you eat? My sheep aren't even as noisy as you!"
Lalong's forehead pressed against the door panel, and his ears were ringing.
He originally came to corrupt the Gu poison.
Now I'm in so much pain I'm half dead.
After enduring a few more moments, Lalong leaned against the wall and stepped out of the cubicle, his legs trembling, and he couldn't even steady the short blade at his waist.
He saw the light at the door.
I saw the sign on the wall that said "Wash your hands after using the toilet".
The next moment, his knee slammed onto the blue brick ground, white foam came out of his mouth, and he collapsed next to the pit.
The old guard at the gate, unable to resist the drowsiness, had already fallen into a deep sleep.
As dawn broke, before the shops in the south of the city had even opened, the alley behind the public toilet was already bustling with activity.
Several veterans in linen uniforms carried wooden buckets and added straw ash to the sedimentation tank, while two others neatly stacked the toilet tickets collected the night before, preparing to send them to the Prince's Mansion for accounting.
Erzhuzi yawned, pushed open the back door of the public toilet, and prepared to go in to relieve himself.
The door was only halfway open when a pungent, sour smell hit my face.
Who drank alcohol last night?
He covered his nose, stepped into the room, and walked along a row of pits.
When Erzhuzi reached the innermost part, he stopped.
A burly man lay sprawled beside the pit.
The man was wearing a fur merchant's robe, his belt was undone, his face was frighteningly pale, and white foam hung from the corner of his mouth.
The muscles in his arms were bulging, and there were several old wounds on the back of his hands.
Erzhuzi didn't approach at first.
The prince had a rule: if you find a drunkard, first check if he has any accomplices.
If you find a dead body, first seal the door, then report it to the patrol.
If you find a burly man of unknown origin, you must not rummage through his belongings.
You can faint just from going to the toilet?
Erzhuzi pulled out a long-handled manure ladle from the wall and touched the man's foot from a few steps away.
Lalong didn't move.
Erzhuzi yelled towards the door, "Hey, two people! There's a big one lying in the latrine, I can't tell if he's breathing or not!"
Two veterans ran in carrying wooden buckets. One of them squatted down and touched the burly man's neck. As soon as his hand got close, the burly man's wrist snapped.
The veteran stepped back half a step.
"Alive."
"Drag them out alive."
Erzhuzi spoke very frankly.
"Don't let this filth get on you. Your job may stink, but you still need to be clean."
The veteran fetched a rope and dragged the man to the entrance of the public toilet.
Just then, Yun Shuyue returned from delivering takeout, still wearing a snowman hat on her head.
She had just received an order from the pharmacy in the east of the city, and as she approached, her nose twitched.
It has a muttony smell.
Leather smell.
It also has a bitter smell, like the aftertaste of sun-dried highland herbs.
Yun Shuyue placed the empty food box by the door and quickly walked to the burly man's side.
Using the tip of his shoe to pry open the other person's frayed collar, he saw half a thick leather rope protruding from inside.
The knot was tied very strangely.
It's the way that Hu merchants tie their clothes around their waists.
My father told me that Tubo herders liked to tie their horses like this, so the rope wouldn't come undone and they could even hang knives on it.
Yun Shuyue's hand reached for the short whistle at her waist.
" Erzhuzi, don't send this man to the clinic."
Erzhuzi turned to look at her. "What's wrong? Looks like he ate something bad and fainted."
Yun Shuyue stared at the burly man's boots.
" Tubo."