"Over here, over here."
A figure crouching before a jewelry stall at the roadside turned slightly and beckoned to Ding Songyan.
Ding Songyan stopped, circled the wooden railing, and browsed past several stalls one by one until he crouched beside the figure, pretending to pick out silver hairpins and wooden combs for his sister.
He glanced from the corner of his eye and almost did not dare believe it was Xiaoqing beside him.
The person wore a plain cloth skirt and a thorn-wood hairpin, hair done up in a married woman’s bun, with an unremarkable face—the kind of person you would see anywhere.
"Miss Xiaoqing?" Ding Songyan picked up a silver hairpin, examining it repeatedly while keeping his voice barely audible.
"Disguise technique," Xiaoqing replied in a light tone, her voice equally faint.
Are the disguise techniques of this world this good? I really want to learn too... Ding Songyan sighed inwardly.
Xiaoqing pretended to browse. When the stall owner turned to attend to another potential custor, she continued in a low voice, "I’ve been following you for quite so ti. I haven’t seen the tail you ntioned."
"He’s already dead." Ding Songyan told Xiaoqing the latest developnts.
"Oh..." Xiaoqing’s eyes turned, brightening faintly. "This is quite... quite complicated."
She continued, "I only noticed the Zhen household’s Retainer Yu watching you from the shadows."
Master Yu, your tailing technique isn’t very good. Ren Youyang’s guard spotted you, and Miss Xiaoqing spotted you too... Despite his worries, Ding Songyan could not help the criticism.
Xiaoqing set down the silver hairpin with its crude pearl flowers, her voice growing slightly more serious.
"When you went to the Linjiang County office, Patriarch Zhen was in a private room at a restaurant nearby.
"After you ca out, he left without lingering. The person tailing you was also switched to a different Zhen household retainer."
Patriarch Zhen was nearby when I tried to report to the authorities? Ding Songyan was startled.
Then his reasoning kicked in.
Patriarch Zhen wasn’t previously certain whether Yan Changqing could make "forget" about reporting. So he ca in person, ready to intervene. That shows how seriously he takes this.
Once he confird that Yan Changqing had tampered with , he stopped worrying and left.
If Yan Changqing isn’t lying about being imprisoned, his martial abilities and freedom of movent were probably destroyed long ago. He can only do things on the spiritual or ntal level. That’s sothing Patriarch Zhen can’t fully control. He can only guess, never be certain.
But then Yan Changqing endured for years in silence, only to expose his hidden card to Patriarch Zhen just like that?
He must have sothing else to fall back on...
If I were Patriarch Zhen, I would reach the sa conclusion...
Damn, I hate this kind of multi-layered reasoning...
While thinking, Ding Songyan did not forget to thank his helper.
"Miss Xiaoqing, I’m deeply grateful for your kindness. I’ll rember it for eternity."
If the worst cos to worst, I’ll do whatever it takes. Just please take my family out of Dingjiang Prefecture.
Xiaoqing chuckled softly.
"Forget eternal gratitude. If you really want to repay , hurry up and relearn how to write properly. Practice when you can. Reading your simplified characters in the outlines every night gives a headache, but I’ve been too polite to say so!
"Now just go about your business as normal. I’ll keep watching."
She selected a wooden hairpin, took out her coin pouch, paid, stood, and left the jewelry stall, rging once again into the flow of passersby.
She played that well. I was genuinely worried she’d toss a silver ingot at the stall owner... Ding Songyan spent two qian of silver on a silver hairpin without pearl flowers but with reasonably fine craftsmanship. He planned to give it to his sister tonight as a return gift for the fifty coins she had given him earlier.
It was not that he did not understand frugality. Rather, he felt that while trapped in a situation bristling with dangers, silver should be spent when it needed to be spent. Better that than dying with a pile of money that might not even reach his family.
Besides, thanks to Xiaoqing’s tips and Xu Chang’an’s gift, his purse was currently quite full.
Leaving the jewelry stall, Ding Songyan used the intelligence Xiaoqing had provided to think through several things more clearly.
His next move was to find an opportunity to test the qi that Yan Changqing had given him, to confirm just what "hurting others" and "saving his life" could actually accomplish. He could not afford to hoard it, finding it too precious to ever use it. If the critical mont ca and the effect fell short of expectations, he would be dood.
Understanding the situation was a necessary step in making a plan.
Moreover, this would help Ding Songyan verify two things.
First, whether the "seed" in his mind would beco less effective at erasing key thoughts as the qi was consud.
Second, whether Yan Changqing still had the ability to replenish the qi, which would give Ding Songyan insight into what cards the old man still held.
Additionally, in Ding Songyan’s view, the Zhen household was an enemy, and Yan Changqing was equally one. Every bit more he could squeeze from the old man and every scrap of additional advantage he could gain would give him that much more hope of survival.
Beyond testing the qi, Ding Songyan had other plans.
Returning to Chengyu Lane, he did not go ho. Instead, he knocked on Xu Chang’an’s door.
Xu Chang’an’s face lit up with surprise at seeing him.
"I visited several martial halls today. Want to hear what I found?"
Ding Songyan did not answer. He pulled Xu Chang’an to the well and asked thoughtfully, "Do you know if the Small Boat Gang still has any hidden agents in the city?"
Several days had passed, and the Small Boat Gang’s overt forces in Dingjiang Prefecture had been uprooted by the Four Waters Brotherhood.
"No idea." Xu Chang’an shook his head blankly. "Brother Ding, why are you asking? If even the Four Waters Brotherhood can’t find their hidden agents, how would I know?"
"What about people or organizations that were once closely associated with the Small Boat Gang and still exist?" Ding Songyan pressed.
As a thief, a bottom-dweller in the jianghu, Xu Chang’an did know certain things.
"The Stone Pool Martial Hall’s Master Liu. Chen Yuliang was killed by Master Yu inside their hall."
Ding Songyan nodded with satisfaction, gave a brief thanks, and turned to leave Chengyu Lane.
"Brother Ding, where are you going?" Xu Chang’an followed, curious.
Ding Songyan glanced at him.
"To visit Stone Pool Martial Hall’s Master Liu. To see if I can make contact with the Small Boat Gang."
"You— aren’t you with the Zhen household?" Xu Chang’an was horrified.
Ding Songyan chuckled.
"For several years, I was a great believer in a saying: there are no permanent friends, and no permanent enemies, only permanent interests."
Xu Chang’an ruminated over the phrase and found it quite reasonable. He asked offhandedly, "You said you were a great believer. You stopped believing later?"
"Later? Once you’ve seen enough, you’ll know that it doesn’t encompass all people or all situations." Ding Songyan stared straight ahead, the smile fading from his face.
Xu Chang’an grew worried.
"Aren’t you— aren’t you afraid the Zhen household will turn on you?"
He actually wants to befriend the Small Boat Gang, the Zhen household’s enemy!
"If you don’t say anything, and I don’t say anything, and the Small Boat Gang doesn’t say anything, who would know?" Ding Songyan was of course not going to tell Xu Chang’an that a Zhen household retainer was tailing him.
One of his purposes was precisely to test whether he had a "death-exemption token"—one with a limited duration and limited scope.
Hearing Ding Songyan’s response, Xu Chang’an lost all trace of his smile. His face turned solemn and pale.
He stayed at Ding Songyan’s side regardless, pointing the way to Stone Pool Martial Hall.
Under overcast skies, they rounded Dangkang Temple and arrived at the hall’s entrance. Ding Songyan turned to Xu Chang’an with a smile.
"You don’t need to force yourself to co in with ."
"Brother Ding, you braved the mass graves to help find my master. How could I— how could I abandon you today?" Xu Chang’an replied, his voice tight.
This fellow actually has the spine of a great thief after all... I underestimated you earlier... Ding Songyan was mildly surprised.
He smiled at Xu Chang’an.
"Not bad. You actually repay any kindness shown to you. You haven’t disappointed my belief that you can beco a legendary thief soday.
"But I have sothing else for you to do afterward, so don’t co in. If you actually die in there, who am I supposed to ask for help?"
His concern was not that Stone Pool Martial Hall would harm Xu Chang’an, but that the Zhen household might.
If his reasoning was correct, then as long as he did not try to report this or probe the bottom line these next few days, the Zhen household would turn a blind eye to whatever else he did. But Xu Chang’an did not have that importance. What if the Zhen household decided to choose Xu Chang’an as a sacrifice as a warning to him?
Xu Chang’an, whose legs were already soft with fear, seized on the reasonable excuse, made repeated promises, and headed back toward Dangkang Temple to wait for him.
Ding Songyan looked up at the plaque reading "Stone Pool Martial Hall," and nurous scenes and images surfaced in his mind.
He flicked back the hem of his robe, placed his left hand behind his waist, and walked in with asured steps.
In the open space before the main hall, a number of n in fitted uniforms were striking wooden training dummies, lifting stone locks, or sparring in pairs and threes.
Seeing a visitor arrive, one of the hall’s disciples ca forward to et Ding Songyan.
Before the man could ask his business, Ding Songyan surveyed the space with a slight smile.
"I am Ding Songyan of the Zhen household. I’ve co to pay my respects to Master Liu."
His words had not even fully landed when the disciple approaching him froze.
In the open space before the hall, those striking dummies stopped mid-motion. Those lifting stone locks went rigid. Those mid-spar found their stances spent, caught in place.
Everything seed to freeze into a still painting.
The sumr wind blew hot and low, carrying obvious humidity. High above, dark clouds gathered. A downpour seed imminent.
After a mont, the disciple who had approached finally stamred, "I— I’ll go inform my master. Please— please wait."
Ding Songyan gave a slight nod and stood just inside the entrance, one hand resting behind his back, smiling as he surveyed the martial hall disciples in the open space.
They retreated one after another. Not one dared et his gaze.
After roughly the ti it took to drink a cup of tea, the disciple who had gone to report returned with a young man, walking toward Ding Songyan from the front hall.
The young man was approximately eight feet tall, dark-skinned, thickly built. At first glance his face looked old; only on closer inspection could traces of youth be found. He did not look like a martial artist; instead, he resembled a farr from the countryside.
"Senior Brother Yang, it’s him." The disciple, who left to report the matter, pointed at Ding Songyan, a tremor in his voice.
"Isn’t this the storyteller from outside Dangkang Temple? When did you join the Zhen household?" Senior Brother Yang sized up Ding Songyan, his tone calm and his stance steadfast.
Ding Songyan smiled and said, "Just yesterday."
Senior Brother Yang asked nothing more and gestured an invitation.
"My master is waiting for you at the training ground."
Ding Songyan smiled faintly, maintained his posture with one hand behind his back, and followed Senior Brother Yang at an unhurried pace through halls and courtyards.
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