"To catch a spy, you have to learn to think like one."
"If I were the head of the Jing Dynasty's Military Intelligence Directorate, what sort of person in the prince's residence would I turn into my spy?"
Chen Ji sat on the shared sleeping platform, chin in hand, silently analyzing the question.
"Not a guard. Guards aren't allowed into the inner quarters."
"...The imperial physicians and apprentices at Taiping Medical Hall can not only meet people outside, but also enter the inner quarters."
Chen Ji froze. "I can't really be a Jing Dynasty spy, can I?!"
He gave the possibility serious thought.
He had appeared at Zhou Chengyi's house in the middle of the night. The first time he met the steward, the man had known he was an apprentice at the medical hall, which meant the body's original owner had been to the Zhou Residence more than once.
Alum was often used as medicine, and Taiping Medical Hall had some. If he were a Jing Dynasty spy, that would explain where the alum at Zhou Chengyi's residence had come from...
Hiss!
Chen Ji drew a sharp breath.
Wait, no, that wasn't right.
Judging by the intelligence Zhou Chengyi had passed on, the spy should already have met the important figure in the prince's residence. Only after both sides had confirmed each other's sincerity had the head of the Military Intelligence Directorate planned to head south.
Yet when Chen Ji had previously gone to Evening Star Court to treat a patient and Chunrong had wanted to beat him to death, Consort Yun had risen to leave, while Consort Jing had silently let it happen. If he hadn't fought for his own life, he would probably have died at Evening Star Court that very day.
If he were a Jing Dynasty spy, at least one of those two important figures should have protected him.
Chen Ji rose quietly and opened the wardrobe the three of them shared. He felt through everyone's clothes, checking even the collars and cuffs for anything hidden inside.
But he found no clues.
Chen Ji then crouched down and ran his fingers carefully over every brick that made up the shared sleeping platform in the dim light.
Huh.
He felt one brick jutting out by about two millimeters, and the clay around it had come loose.
Chen Ji gripped the edge of the brick with the nails of his index fingers and thumbs and pulled it out bit by bit. Someone had hollowed out a small cavity behind it, where five silver ingots were hidden!
Huh?!
Each silver ingot weighed ten taels, far more than an apprentice at a medical hall should ever possess, unless the Jing Dynasty's Military Intelligence Directorate was providing funds.
When Chen Ji had earlier suspected that the spy was in the medical hall, he had laughed at himself for being overly suspicious. But now that he had actually seen evidence, he couldn't help drawing a deep breath.
Did the silver belong to She Dengke? Or Liu Quxing?
...Or him?
Chen Ji put the ingots and brick back, then returned to bed without a change in expression.
Early in the morning, before the rooster had crowed, Old Yao was awakened in his bed by a commotion in the courtyard.
He put on his black cloth shoes with white soles and ambled toward the door with his hands behind his back. In the courtyard, Chen Ji was gently pouring freshly fetched water into the water vat.
Old Yao glanced into the kitchen at Liu Quxing, who had fallen asleep slumped over the stove, then looked at the bright-eyed Chen Ji. Frowning, he said, "...Did you wear him to death?"
Chen Ji said, "...No. Senior Brother Liu is just asleep."
Old Yao curled his lip. "The rooster hasn't even crowed yet, and you've already made enough noise to wake me. How about we stop letting the rooster crow from now on and have you do it instead?"
Chen Ji smiled and paid his master's words no mind. He had gradually grown accustomed to that venom-dipped tongue of his. "Master, I'm going to fetch more water. I'll fill the vat before the rooster crows, so it won't delay your morning lesson for us."
With that, he rolled his sleeves up to his wrists, hoisted the carrying pole onto his shoulder, and headed outside.
Before Chen Ji reached the door, however, the sound of a copper bell rang out in the distance. Its clear, pleasant chime drew steadily closer.
Old Yao frowned and hurried forward, pulling Chen Ji back inside before he could go out.
The tug forced Chen Ji back two steps, the pole and wooden buckets on his shoulder swaying.
The next moment, a procession carrying a solemn, majestic statue of a Buddha passed along Anxi Street through the darkness before dawn.
Thirty-two monks in gray robes, each with one shoulder bare, steadily carried an immensely large Sumeru pedestal.
Beside the pedestal, other monks held copper bells in their left hands and burning incense in their right. Every so often, they struck their hands together, bringing incense and bell into contact with brilliant sparks and clear chimes.
The incense burned without going out, sending sparks soaring into the sky like fiery trees and silver flowers, like fish and dragons winding in a dance.
Chen Ji asked quietly, "Master, you pulled me back..."
Old Yao said expressionlessly, "Don't ask."
Chen Ji stood shoulder to shoulder with Old Yao, silently watching the procession of monks slowly pass in front of Taiping Medical Hall.
As he watched, he suddenly took a step back.
For that brief instant, the Buddha statue had seemed to glance at him, its gaze indifferent yet tinged with compassion.
By then, Liu Quxing had also been awakened by the bell and come over. He looked at the procession outside the door. "Those are the monks from Dharani Temple in the south of the city. Who spent so lavishly, paying to have a Buddha or bodhisattva paraded through Luo City on the Double Ninth Festival?"
After a moment's hesitation, Chen Ji asked, "Master, do gods and Buddhas really exist in this world?"
Liu Quxing answered before Old Yao could. "Of course they do. The year before last, a man's mother fell gravely ill in Liu Family Village outside the city. During a procession, he knelt before a Buddha statue and prayed, and his mother recovered on the spot!"
Chen Ji was skeptical. He knew that many religions attracted believers by displaying miracles.
Liu Quxing continued, "And I remember that three years ago, there was a filial son in western Luo City whose parents both died of a plague. He went to Dharani Temple in the south of the city to pray to the Buddha and donated everything he owned, his land deeds and ancestral property, to ask Abbot Chuyun to hold a Water and Land Dharma Assembly and make offerings to the Buddhas and bodhisattvas of the ten directions."
"What happened?"
"His parents came back to life, and the plague disappeared too. They just couldn't move from their beds," Liu Quxing replied.
Chen Ji frowned and turned to Old Yao. "Master, did what Senior Brother Liu said really happen?"
With his hands behind his back, Old Yao gave a casual grunt of assent. "His parents were already at death's door when he brought them to me. I told him to take them away and not let them die in the medical hall and ruin my reputation."
Liu Quxing muttered, "Master, what you said back then was that they couldn't be saved, and it would be better to spare the living some expense..."
Old Yao ignored him and continued, "His parents drew their last breaths before my eyes, so when word came that they had come back to life, I went to their home to see for myself. The old couple really had come back to life, but they lay unconscious in their sickbeds, with pulses, heartbeats, and breath all present."
Chen Ji froze. Then his own parents...
But Old Yao sneered. "What's the point of living like that? They'd be better off departing in peace."
Chen Ji pressed him. "Master, has anyone ever brought the dead fully back to life?"
Old Yao glanced at him. "Rumor has it that Xu Gong, the current Grand Secretary, lost his only son in an accident. Xu Gong paid a great sum to enlist the abbot of Pratyekabuddha Temple, who used the Seven-Treasure Lotus Lamp to fashion a body for his son and let him live another life."
"Is his son still alive?"
"He is. He's Xu Shu, the current deputy director of the Imperial Astronomical Bureau."
It was as though a great axe had cleaved through the haze and chaos in Chen Ji's mind, leaving it clear in an instant.
He had already lived another life. If someone in this world really could bring the dead back to life, might he one day find his way home and also bring his parents back?
Make money.
Cultivate.
Chen Ji's heart burned.
If he wanted to cultivate, he couldn't keep avoiding the icy current. He had to figure out what it was, how it formed, and how to obtain it!
By the time the procession of monks vanished at the end of Anxi Street, the sky was gradually brightening.
The neighbors had all lost any desire to sleep. They took down their door panels early, greeted one another cheerfully, and set up their stalls on the street ahead of time.
Chen Ji didn't return to the back courtyard. Carrying the pole on his shoulder, he headed for the well.
A young man carrying a load of firewood approached, calling out his wares. As they passed, Chen Ji stopped and caught hold of him. "Tell Lord Cloud Goat I need to visit the inner prison."
The young man looked startled. "What are you talking about, Physician Chen? I don't understand."
Chen Ji said calmly, "A firewood seller goes from street to street, exposed to wind and sun. He wouldn't have a fair complexion like a secret agent. And a firewood seller wouldn't wander up and down this one street, failing to sell a single load from morning till night. If you were a Jing Dynasty spy, you wouldn't look arrogant; you'd be cautious. Go tell Lord Cloud Goat I want to visit the inner prison to look at the prisoners and case files. I might be able to help him earn more merit."
With that, he went to fetch water without looking back.
Chen Ji hadn't just noticed something strange about the young firewood seller today. He had known since the day he sat on the medical hall's doorstep, waiting for his parents to bring his tuition silver.
And the reason he wanted to go to the inner prison, a place others avoided like the plague, was simply...
Where did the most people die unjust deaths?
The Secret Intelligence Directorate's inner prison.
The young firewood seller slowly let his smile fade and stared after Chen Ji. He had thought his disguise was excellent, but now it seemed Chen Ji had noticed what was wrong with him long ago and had merely watched his clumsy performance in silence.
The next moment, the young firewood seller dropped his firewood and carrying pole, turned, and strode away.