Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Jiang Ruoyi reached out to take the box on the wooden rack but was abruptly pulled back by Lin Qing.

Puzzled, she turned her head and saw the grim expression on Lin Qing’s face. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Lin Qing had just realized that Zhang Weishan’s wound was still fresh; his time of death was certainly recent, possibly even before they arrived.

If the killer were here, she wouldn’t have left yet, because the most important thing hadn’t been obtained. She would be trailing them, waiting for the right moment.

Suddenly, Lin Qing drew her sword with a crisp ring. The long blade flashed like silver, thrusting toward a wooden panel about a person’s height behind them.

Though the secret chamber was cluttered, there were few places to hide. That wooden panel was the only one.

The sword pierced through the panel with a soft tearing sound. When pulled out, the blade was stained bright red.

The panel fell, revealing a freshly dead body wrapped entirely in white cloth, its face obscured—identical to the White Lotus cultists who had ambushed them in the wilderness.

Jiang Ruoyi was startled. “White Lotus Cult?”

Lin Qing asked, “You know about the White Lotus Cult?”

“I’ve lived on the frontier for years. Recently, the White Lotus has been rampant, so I know a little.” Jiang Ruoyi steadied her breath. “When did he follow us? How did I not notice?”

“These White Lotus cultists move stealthily and seem to have their own methods of concealment,” Lin Qing said, turning the corpse over. There was nothing except a lotus tattoo on the wrist—five petals on the flower.

“It seems Zhang Weishan was killed by the White Lotus Cult. The disappearance of the Duke of the Nation must be connected to them as well,” Lin Qing sighed. This White Lotus Cult was indeed a fierce threat to the court. “By the way, have you heard of the Refining Rain?”

Jiang Ruoyi shook her head. “The White Lotus is too mysterious. Every time we send troops to suppress them, the results are minimal.” She reached for the small wooden box on the rack but found it immovable, as if embedded in the shelf. “This box won’t budge. It must be a mechanism.”

Lin Qing thought for a moment. “Open it using the secret code of the Duke’s mansion.”

Jiang Ruoyi nodded and twisted repeatedly. With a click, the wall behind the rack cracked open, revealing a bronze tiger-shaped token.

“My father hid the military token here,” Jiang Ruoyi said, shocked. She grasped the token tightly, paused, then handed it to Lin Qing. “Too many people are watching the Duke’s mansion now. This isn’t safe here.”

Lin Qing noticed a fleeting gleam of joy beneath Jiang Ruoyi’s shock. She weighed the token in her hand—it was heavy. Wasn’t the real token supposed to be with Liu Rong?

No, something was wrong.

She examined the token’s base. To prevent forgery, the authentic token bore intricate tooth marks on the top and many seal characters on the body, each containing nine fine lines.

But this token only had the seal characters forged, without the fine lines—it was a fake.

Lin Qing suppressed the unusual expression between her brows and looked directly at Jiang Ruoyi.

Puzzled, Jiang Ruoyi asked, “Is something wrong, Lady Lin?”

“Nothing. I just realized that Master Jiang is quite the handsome man,” Lin Qing teased, whistling lightly as she tucked the token into her sleeve.

Jiang Ruoyi’s cheeks flushed. “Lady Lin, I’m a man.”

“I never said you were a woman,” Lin Qing replied, picking up the oil lamp and leading the way. But just before leaving the secret chamber, she suddenly stopped.

Ahead was darkness, but she knew climbing up would lead to light. Yet one misstep would send her tumbling down the high steps.

The higher the climb, the worse the fall.

Resolute, Lin Qing stepped up. She still had ambitions to rise in rank and fortune; no matter who died, she intended to survive.

Zhang Weishan’s body was sent to the public mortuary by Bu Tong, and Lin Qing and Jiang Ruoyi returned to the Duke’s mansion.

The next morning, the steward from the Liu household arrived, delivering several shop deeds.

Lin Qing flipped through them. These shops were well-located, mostly near the main street—the busiest area in Wei City.

She glanced at Zhou Fusheng, who was practicing calligraphy, and waved the deeds. “Shall we go have a look?”

Zhou Fusheng put down his brush with a smile. “Sure.”

Wei City was livelier than before, with many shops open and more people out shopping.

Lin Qing and Zhou Fusheng inspected all the shops. It seemed Liu Rong truly feared her reporting to the emperor; the shops offered were straightforward and the businesses decent.

There was a cloth shop, a tea shop, two general stores, and an ironworks.

Zhou Fusheng hesitated. “These shops are good, but I don’t know where I’ll be assigned next after returning. I might not need them. Maybe we should sell them.”

Lin Qing had requested the shops on a whim. “That’s fine. Better to have silver on hand than nothing.”

Zhou Fusheng suggested, “It’s nearly noon. Let me treat you to a meal, then we can arrange for someone to manage the shops.”

Lin Qing, feeling hungry, agreed and pointed to a nearby tavern. “Let’s go there.”

Zhou Fusheng nodded.

They entered the modest tavern and found an empty table.

The tavern was small, mainly selling alcohol with some simple side dishes and staples.

They ordered a small jar of wine and a few dishes, eating and drinking as they talked.

Just then, a group entered.

Leading them were two men and a woman. The men looked fierce, and the woman appeared strong, in her forties.

Behind them was a crowd of ragged, muddy men, women, and children—some in their thirties, some as young as seven or eight.

Most were bound hand and foot, locked together on a long iron chain, standing listlessly against the wall.

The lead man shouted, “Innkeeper! Bring wine and dishes, plus one corn bun per person.”

“Right away!” the innkeeper hurried.

The two men and woman ate while chatting. The larger man said, “This trip wasn’t easy. It took nearly a month to get from the capital to the northern border.”

The woman replied, “After all, these are capital goods. Rare items. Once resold, we’ll make a good profit.”

...

Lin Qing immediately recognized them as slave traders.

She hadn’t expected the trade to span from the capital all the way to the northern border.

She paid little mind, but her gaze instinctively swept the crowd of slaves. Suddenly, her hand trembled, dropping a piece of chicken onto the table.

Zhou Fusheng asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Lin Qing took a deep breath and looked again at the slaves, finally resting her eyes on one young man.

He wore patched brown clothes, slightly hunched as if crippled. His hair was a tangled mess, and his face was thickly smeared with black mud, as if to hide his extraordinary beauty.

That man stared straight back at her.

Lin Qing’s heart pounded wildly, as if it might leap from her chest.

It wasn’t love at first sight—pure shock.

She recognized that face even if it turned to ash.

Li Mingxiao!

Her employer, the emperor of the Dayuan dynasty!

But the emperor, who should be busy in the palace, was now dull and gray, hidden among slaves waiting to be sold.

A storm of emotions surged within Lin Qing.

The emperor was missing. Did no one in the palace know? Not her master? Not anyone in the court?

No matter what she thought, when she looked up, her expression returned to calm. She smiled brightly at Zhou Fusheng. “Now that we have money, it’s not fitting to stay in the Duke’s mansion. Let’s buy a house and move out.”

Zhou Fusheng glanced meaningfully at the slaves. “Good idea. Living in someone else’s house isn’t convenient for you. But if we buy a house, we’ll need servants—must pick ones we like.”

Lin Qing agreed. “That’s true.”

Their voices were loud enough to be overheard by the two men and woman nearby, who exchanged looks. The woman then came over, flattering, “Gentlemen, are you looking to buy servants?”

Lin Qing frowned. “Who are you?”

The woman’s eyes flickered. “I am Wu Sanniang, a servant broker. To be frank, I just returned from the capital with some fine goods. Perhaps you’ll find some to your liking. Prices are negotiable.”

Lin Qing and Zhou Fusheng’s attire marked them as well-to-do, especially Lin Qing, who looked like a noble young master—aloof and refined. That had piqued their interest, hoping to profit.

Lin Qing immediately saw through Wu Sanniang’s intentions. With power and status, it was a simple game—she was one herself.

Lin Qing sipped her wine leisurely, then gave a disdainful smile as she sized up the group. “What? Do I look like someone short of money? Why buy a bunch of mud-covered slaves instead of good servants?”

Wu Sanniang laughed awkwardly. “The journey from the capital is long. They haven’t been cleaned yet, but once washed, their skin will be fair and clear.”

“Oh? All from the capital? All slaves?” Lin Qing’s interest seemed to spark. Then she murmured to herself, “No news of another raid there lately…”

She frowned, whispering, “None have slipped in?”

She needed to know whether Li Mingxiao had been captured at the start or later. She felt these people were no ordinary slaves.

Wu Sanniang’s eyes lit up. Hearing this implied connection to the capital meant a valuable catch. But the last question made her uneasy. She stammered, “No, I’m registered with the authorities. All my trades are legal.”

Lin Qing knew better. She tossed a silver ingot to the innkeeper for the bill and said to Wu Sanniang, “Fine, young master here wants to buy a house, and I’ll take all these slaves.”

Not only Wu Sanniang but also the two sturdy men looked at Lin Qing with reverence—as if she were a deity.

They had found their fortune.

Wu Sanniang asked, “Young master, what kind of house do you want? Any specific requirements?”

Lin Qing answered, “I don’t like noise. It must be quiet, spacious, and have a garden.”

Wu Sanniang hurried, “I have just the place in Yong’an Village, a large estate designed by a professional. It’s beautiful. The previous owners fell on hard times and left it idle.”

“Good. Let’s go see it,” Lin Qing stood. “Bring all these people along. If I like the house, they can start cleaning and repairing immediately.”

Wu Sanniang beamed and quickly settled the bill with the two men. She led the chained slaves out.

“Don’t come with me now. I’ll find you after I finish,” Lin Qing said to Zhou Fusheng, moving beside him. Hidden by the table, she tapped a rhythm on his hand: three, two, four—insufficient manpower, request reinforcements.

They exchanged a glance. Zhou Fusheng lowered his head, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes before he left.

Wu Sanniang and the men saw Zhou Fusheng’s wheelchair and didn’t ask further, waiting outside with the slaves.

Lin Qing paused at the doorway.

Wu Sanniang asked, “Young master, what is it?”

“Just a bit of dirt on my sleeve,” Lin Qing said, pointing to a small oil stain.

“Shall I send someone to fetch a change of clothes from your mansion?” Wu Sanniang flatteringly offered, though inwardly she sneered—such a small stain was hardly noticeable. Rich people could be so finicky.

“No need,” Lin Qing declined, but her heart was pounding. Inside she hadn’t noticed, but outside, she suddenly sensed that one person’s aura was exactly like the Refining Rain!