No sooner thought than done. Just past noon, Wang Ping changed into fresh clothes, donned a bamboo hat, draped a coir raincoat over his shoulders, and stuffed a long string of copper coins into his pocket. Following his memories, he walked out of Qian Village and made his way toward the nearest county seat in his recollection, Longxing County, without tarrying along the road.
After walking for about another two hours, a walled town finally came into view—imposing gates, guarding soldiers, and a bustling market sprawling outside the town walls.
This was the grass market outside town.
Ninety-nine percent of the people gathered here hailed from the rustic villages outside the county seat; as for the "respectable citizens" within the town walls, they would never set foot in such a place.
Be that as it may, the market outside town was small as a sparrow, yet complete in every organ. At least daily necessities like firewood, rice, oil, and salt could all be bought here, and the prices were even cheaper. At worst, the quality was somewhat inferior, but in Wang Ping's current state, he had no right to be picky.
Soon enough, Wang Ping followed his memories to a grain shop in the market.
Yet the next instant, he pulled up short.
At the shop entrance, a yamen runner clad in black with a saber at his waist sneered down at the grain shop's proprietor, his fingers lightly tapping the counter.
"Old Chen, time to pay this month's regular dues."
The proprietor was a man past forty, his face carved with wrinkles, gray streaking his dark hair. Hunched over, he hurriedly produced a string of a thousand copper cash.
"Rest assured, Master Liu, it's all prepared for you."
With that, Old Chen moved to untie the string to count out the required dues.
But the tall runner called Master Liu abruptly reached out and snatched the entire string of coins from Old Chen's grasp.
"Master Liu?! This..." Old Chen's face tightened.
"What's with the drivel?" The runner waved his hand impatiently. "This will do. Whatever's extra will count toward next month's dues, saving me the waste of time."
With that, he glanced at the shelves, casually picked up a sack of fine rice, and tucked it into his robes, clearly without the slightest intention of paying. Then he swaggered off toward the next shop. Wherever he passed, people lowered their heads and made way, none daring to meet his gaze.
He was nothing less than a street tyrant whose oppressive aura kept the thoroughfare clear.
As for Old Chen, he could only offer a bitter smile.
Behind him, a young man around twenty years old who had witnessed the entire scene gritted his teeth and muttered under his breath, "That Flayer Liu has gone too far..."
"Idiot! Watch your mouth!"
At those words, Old Chen's expression drastically changed. He whipped around and struck the youth hard, motioning for him to shut up immediately.
Seeing that the young man held his tongue but still looked full of resentment, Old Chen could only shake his head helplessly.
"You're still young. Lord Liu is already considered decent.
"Either way, life goes on and business must be done... A little grievance is easily endured if you just bear it. I lived through the same when I was your age."
From a distance, Wang Ping watched the entire scene with a calm expression.
Only after Master Liu walked the length of the street and returned to town in satisfaction did Wang Ping approach the grain shop and say softly, "Uncle Chen, half a sack of fine rice, please."
Hearing him, Old Chen turned around at once with an affable merchant's smile, calling the youth behind him to help. Measuring the peck and tallying the bill went smoothly.
"A total of one hundred and thirty-three wen."
"Uncle Chen, can you knock off the odd change?" Wang Ping asked brazenly.
"Young brother, I'm running a small business here..."
After some haggling, Wang Ping successfully saved himself one wen. A mosquito's leg was still meat, after all. Only then did he pay contentedly for the rice.
Besides this, he had to buy a piece of refined iron for crafting a blade.
Though he could still use leaves for now, to truly get started with the Pure Moon Lotus Blade, he had to refine a flying dagger of his own.
'A single coin can foil a hero.'
Had he not become an undercover agent for the yamen, playing both sides to line his own pockets, he probably wouldn't even have been able to afford the fine rice just now, let alone precious refined iron.
Leaving the grain shop, Wang Ping wandered through the market, deliberately browsing the street stalls to see if he could find a cheap bargain and save whatever he could.
Along the way, he overheard plenty of chatter from passersby.
The topics varied wildly, from nephews' marriages to everyday trivia, but what came up most frequently was news about something inside the county seat.
"Have you heard? A thaumaturge has arrived in town!"
"They say it's an establishment set up by Perfected Youshen. The government even levied corvée labor for it—a massive compound over in Shenghua Ward, east of town."
"Does that mean they're hiring servants?"
"My second uncle does odd jobs in town, and he told me himself that the threshold of that hall is practically being trampled flat. Countless people want to become servants there."
"Well, of course! The government posted an official notice: anyone who becomes a servant in the hall opened by the thaumaturge gets an immediate tax exemption for their entire household! Who wouldn't drool over that? It's just that our lot in life is poor and we can only scrape by out here; otherwise, we'd squeeze our heads raw trying to get in."
"Ah, isn't that the truth..."
Listening to the chatter, Wang Ping couldn't help feeling a stir of curiosity. A thaumaturge, backed by the government, with servants whose whole households were exempt from taxes?
At this thought, he listened even more intently.
Fortunately, he wasn't the only one out of the loop. Listening in along the way, he managed to piece together most of the picture and gained a rough idea of the thaumaturge's background.
In short, so-called thaumaturges were a group of fangshi alchemists favored by the reigning emperor of the Dashun Dynasty. They were said to be capable of concocting elixirs of immortality and were held in deep esteem by the sovereign. That was why the county yamen had given them the green light, helping them build their hall and recruit servants.
'Eighty percent chance he's a fraud. Nothing new.'
Having made his judgment, Wang Ping dwelt on it no further. After all, it was just idle gossip to him; only the masters in town would bother fretting over such things.
Another two hours slipped by.
Finally, Wang Ping stopped before an ironmonger's shop. His eye caught a piece of refined iron; because it was relatively small, the price was correspondingly lower.
Normally, such a small piece of refined iron would be difficult to forge into a weapon, but since he intended to refine a flying dagger, it suited his needs perfectly.
Just then, however.
"Don't turn around."
A faint voice reached his ear, steady and forceful. The movement of Wang Ping's hands playing with the refined iron abruptly hitched, though he quickly kept his expression composed.
'He's here!'
His handler!
With that realization, Wang Ping immediately looked at the ironmonger and said in a low voice, "Boss, is this iron definitely wrought? If it's pig iron, I'm not buying."
The smith's brow furrowed at once.
"You're joking, young brother. I run a blacksmith shop and have a bit of a reputation in this market. If you want wrought iron, how could I sell you cast iron?"
Wang Ping paid him no mind.
The exchange with the blacksmith was merely a pretext, an excuse to communicate with his handler hiding somewhere unseen.
Sure enough, the voice came again:
"How is the situation?"
Wang Ping moved his mouth, speaking to the blacksmith while shaping silent words with his lips. Astonishingly, the shapes his lips formed were completely different from the words he spoke.
This was his method of communicating with his handler as an undercover agent for the county yamen. There was no need to pass suspicious slips of paper; he simply found a spot where the other man could see him, talked to any passerby or vendor, and used lip reading to convey whatever intelligence he needed to deliver.
"I've become Shouchong's disciple.
"I'm now the hall master of the White Lotus Sect branch in Qian Village... but Shouchong seems to realize the yamen has a mole inside the sect.
"If this goes on, I risk being exposed."
Wang Ping shaped each silent word carefully, separating the lip movements from his spoken voice—a technique that had taken him months to master.
Before long, the voice sounded again:
"Rest easy. In the entire yamen, I am the only one who knows you are an undercover agent. Your dossier is strictly confidential; there is no way Shouchong can catch you."
Hearing this, Wang Ping felt no relief.
On the contrary, he felt rather helpless. "My lord, back then you promised we'd pull the net in three years. Three years turned into another three years, and now I've become a hall master."
"I know you're anxious, but don't rush."
The handler's voice remained calm. "I want to wipe out the White Lotus Sect as soon as possible too, but you must understand that this is a major undertaking. We do not strike lightly; when we strike, we must succeed.
"We cannot afford the cost of failure.
"Qian Village is the White Lotus Sect's old nest, and that old bastard Shouchong has laid down many defenses there. If we rush in rashly, he is very likely to notice and flee.
"So if we want to pull the net, either you figure out the positions of all the sentry posts in Qian Village, or you find a way to lure Shouchong out of the village..."
"Easier said than—hm?"
Just as Wang Ping was about to retort, he paused. A fragment of his earlier conversation with Shouchong suddenly flashed through his mind. 'Wait... there might actually be an opportunity.'
Excitement abruptly surged within him.
"In two days, Shouchong might visit He Village!"
"...What?"
The handler's tone shifted at once. "Are you certain? Where did you get this information?"
"He told me personally," Wang Ping said, trying to stay calm. "I can't rule out that he's deliberately testing me with false news, but it could be true."
"No, it ought to be true."
The handler's voice held an eager edge. "There really has been unusual movement among the White Lotus Sect over in He Village. Well done! Wang Ping, once this matter is resolved, you will officially be a man of the yamen.
"And you won't be shorted on your reward silver."
"Thank you, my lord."
Soon, the voice spoke no more. Wang Ping ceased bantering with the blacksmith, who was clearly on the verge of losing his temper, and crisply purchased the piece of refined iron.
Turning on his heel, he headed back to the village.
At this moment, his spirits were soaring. His handler had decided to pull the net; this undercover career of walking a tightrope was finally coming to an end.
When the time came, he could take a hefty sum of reward silver and live out his days in the county seat as a leisurely gentleman of wealth, lying flat and waiting for death. Even if the imperial court acted shamelessly and embezzled his reward silver, at worst he could pack up the White Lotus Sect's assets and make a run for it. With a change of face and identity, he still wouldn't have to worry about the rest of his life.
Just thinking about it made him a little thrilled.
Wang Ping's buoyant mood lasted until he returned to Qian Village. Only after seeing the young Daoist Xie Shi at the village entrance did he gradually regain his composure.
"Senior Brother Xie?"
"Come with me. Master wants to see us," Xie Shi said flatly. "I went along with you to the grass market outside Longxing County, Junior Brother. Master wishes to have a word with you."
Thump!
Wang Ping's heart skipped a beat, but he showed not the slightest trace of panic. Nodding crisply, he followed Xie Shi all the way to the Daoist temple's back courtyard.
"Disciple pays respects to Master."
Seeing the old Daoist seated beside the shrine, Wang Ping dropped prostrate to the ground without a word. This time, however, Shouchong did not tell him to rise.
Presently, an aged voice sounded in a low murmur:
"An expert took a fancy to a young man, accepted him as a disciple, and taught him martial arts. That young man was clever like you, and meticulous in his conduct.
"A pity, though... someone found out he was a ghost of the imperial court."
The next instant, Wang Ping felt a chilling touch between his brows. A prick of pain was accompanied by warm fluid trickling down, staining a corner of his vision red.
"Why did you betray me?"
Wang Ping knew that the Lotus Blade was now pressed against the center of his forehead.
At that moment, Wang Ping's thoughts raced. Countless times in waking nightmares had he envisioned this scene, previously scared half to death. But now that it was truly happening, he found himself remarkably calm instead.
Without hesitation, he raised his head, letting the blade cut into his brow as blood gushed down, his eyes brimming with aggrieved innocence. "Sect Master, you suspect me?"
He decided to take a gamble.
He was betting that his rendezvous with his handler at the grass market was covert enough, and that Shouchong had no real proof and was merely bluffing. He had to deny it to the death.
"Why shouldn't I suspect you?
"Only you and Xie Shi knew that I planned to visit He Village."
Shouchong sneered coldly, then tossed a slip of paper in front of Wang Ping. On it was written a line of characters: There is a mole, abort the operation!
Only then did realization dawn upon Wang Ping: not only was he an undercover agent within the White Lotus Sect, but the White Lotus Sect also had a mole inside the county yamen!
"See that?"
Shouchong pressed the blade slightly forward, his voice ice-cold. "I've grown senile in my old age, harboring a ghost under my own roof without even knowing it. How do you plan to explain this to me?"
"It really wasn't me!" Wang Ping shook his head vehemently.
"If not you, then me? Or is it him?!" Shouchong snapped his head around to glare at Xie Shi.
"Huh?" Xie Shi was caught off guard. He had been looking forward to watching a good show, but panic seized him at once. "Absolutely not! Master, I am your disciple!"
"What of being a disciple?"
Shouchong remained unmoved. "Disciples can't betray me? Over all these years, you haven't been my only disciple. Do you think none of them ever betrayed me?
"Besides, you went to Longxing County with Wang Ping today, didn't you?"
"This... this was Master's own arrangement!"
"It could also be that you foresaw it all along."
Between their words, the tension in the room thickened to the breaking point.
Just then, however.
Boom!
A thunderous blast shattered the tense atmosphere—the sound of gates and walls being blown apart. Immediately after, a clamor of shouting erupted from all around the Daoist temple.
"By imperial decree, suppress the rebels!
"The White Lotus rebels defy authority and plunge the countryside into ruin—their crimes are unpardonable!
"Brothers, the county magistrate has decreed: anyone who slays a rebel will be rewarded ten taels of silver! Whoever cuts down the White Lotus rebel leader will be rewarded five hundred taels!"
Chapter 3