Magistrate Tian nodded repeatedly. "Of course, of course. Leave it to me, sir."
He breathed an inward sigh of relief. The special envoy had finally assigned an easy task that did not put him in a bind, even if the request was a bit odd.
With the instructions given, He Lingchuan had intended to take his leave, but on a sudden thought, he pulled back the foot he had already stepped forward with.
"Right, two more things."
"More...?" Magistrate Tian nearly blurted out his dismay before catching himself. "Please, give your orders!"
"Here is a wanted notice. Have your men make several dozen copies and paste them in prominent spots around town as soon as possible." He Lingchuan took out the bounty warrant for Mr. Mai issued by Zhitian Township and handed it over. "The masses have sharp eyes. We ought to harness their strength."
Magistrate Tian took it, looked it over, and said, "Understood. I will see to it at once."
"When will they be posted?"
"Er, tomorrow morning—" Seeing He Lingchuan's brow knit, Magistrate Tian promptly changed his tune. "By evening! They will all be up by this evening!"
He Lingchuan gave an approving smile. "And one more thing. Where did you hear that Zhongsun Mou had arrived in Baishaqu?"
"I heard other dignitaries talking about it, sir. More than one or two."
"And where did they hear it?"
"Er..." Word had traveled lightning-fast among the high and mighty this time; by the time it reached Magistrate Tian's ears, it had already passed through who knew how many hands.
"Please track down the source of the news and see who leaked word," He Lingchuan said sternly. "This is of grave importance. Be sure to verify it without delay!"
"Right, of course, right away." Chasing down rumors was like grasping at shadows—never easy—but Magistrate Tian had his own methods: start by looking into the womenfolk of those elite households.
***
Amid the quiet scheming of Baishaqu's various factions, three days went by in a flash, and the twenty-ninth of the seventh month arrived at last.
Chaohu Pagoda was the local landmark. Daily visitors drawn to climb it ranged from two or three thousand on a quiet day to six or seven thousand at peak—a bustling crowd indeed.
Today, however, visitors hoping to climb the pagoda were met with disappointment. Before dawn, workers had already arrived to erect scaffolding, followed by artisans carrying all manner of tools and gear, setting to work on the fourth and fifth floors.
*Clang! Bang! Clatter!* The pounding of hammers and chiseling of stone never let up.
Laborers hauled supplies up and down the stairs, leaving wet mortar, sand, stone fragments, and miscellaneous rubble everywhere.
Visiting Chaohu Pagoda was all about finding scenic tranquility; the key word was "tranquility." Even during peak hours when crowds packed the floors, sitting in the teahouse on the fourth floor sipping tea while gazing out into the distance was one of life's true pleasures.
Now, rough craftsmen had completely shattered that tranquil mood. Even the nearby waterfowl shunned the racket and refused to land, spoiling half the joy of bird-watching.
Thus, most people who came this far, saw the mess, and heard the noise simply shook their heads and turned back in disappointment.
Some visitors felt that having come all this way, they couldn't bear to leave without climbing. But the deafening pounding on stone on the fourth floor struck like hammers against their very nerves, forcing them to take only a cursory glance before hurrying back down, unable even to hold a conversation—
The din was simply overwhelming.
Chaohu Teahouse on the fourth floor had ten tables. Normally packed with patrons, each table would have three or four groups waiting in line. Today, however, it suffered an unfamiliar emptiness.
"Even with this racket, three tables are taken," the soul-snatching mirror clicked its tongue from He Lingchuan's breast. "These folks really aren't afraid of noise."
The teahouse was at thirty percent capacity.
Each of these three groups of customers likely had reasons they couldn't leave, forcing them to endure the grating din.
"Suspicious!" the mirror whispered. "The time is drawing near. They're all suspicious."
He Lingchuan was not seated among them.
He was stationed where he could watch everyone in the pagoda without drawing suspicion.
"What's so suspicious about them?"
"Look at the table on the left." That table had only one man, around forty years old, with dark, weathered skin. "He came in, ordered only a single bowl of tea, and has been sitting motionless ever since. Doesn't that look like someone waiting?"
"He is waiting for someone, but not necessarily Mr. Mai."
The mirror asked, "Because he looks too rustic?"
He Lingchuan replied with certainty, "He's just a hired laborer, and he ordered the cheapest tea on the menu."
The mirror was unconvinced. "I can see his skin is calloused and his knuckles are thick; he clearly does hard labor. But what if that's just a disguise? Or what if the mastermind refused to show up in person and picked someone at random to test the waters?"
"Whoever they picked, it wouldn't be him."
"Why?"
"His left hand is tucked in his sleeve, but he took it out a few times just now—it trembled slightly," He Lingchuan said. "He's either a drunkard or sick. Would you entrust something this important to an alcoholic or an invalid?"
The mirror choked on its words, then turned its attention to the second table. "What about those three women? You think the contact can't be a woman?"
At this table sat three female patrons: a woman in her early thirties, another approaching fifty, and a young girl in the blossoming prime of youth.
The young girl sat primly upright, her small face made up fair and rosy, delicate with a touch of precocious maturity. The younger woman had a slight furrow in her brow and looked impatient, while the elderly woman sipped her tea unhurriedly, occasionally comforting them: "He'll be here soon, very soon."
The younger woman added, "It's too noisy. Why don't we do this another day?"
"If we pick another day, it won't be auspicious!"
Hearing this, He Lingchuan chuckled. "Not much chance for that table either. That old woman is a matchmaker."
"Eh?"
"It's a matchmaking meeting. The girl deliberately wore new shoes and clothes, but the mother didn't."
As they spoke, newcomers came up the stairs: a couple accompanied by a teenage boy, who sat down right at that table.
The two parties began greeting each other, sporting polite yet inescapably awkward smiles.
The mirror muttered grumpily, "Figures. The most boring activity of you humans."
"Then only the last table is left. That old fellow is either a merchant or a head steward. Let's see what faults you can find with him!"
At the final table was a man in his fifties. His clothes were made of fine material, and his tea-drinking posture carried some dignity. Just as the mirror said, he did look like someone with a bit of status and money.
A bit, but not much.
The true air of a person of high station was hard for ordinary folk to cultivate.
"Look, he keeps glancing toward the stairs. He's clearly getting impatient."
"Fair enough; he can't be ruled out. And he is waiting for someone." On his table sat a teapot and two cups, one still empty—he had definitely arranged to meet someone. "He's worth watching."
It was midsummer, after all. However cool Chaohu Pagoda was, a few cups of hot tea brought out sweat. The man wiped his brow twice with a handkerchief, seemed to make up his mind, tossed some coins on the table for the tea, and stood up to hurry down the stairs.
The mirror urged, "Ah, he's slipping away! Follow him!"
He Lingchuan didn't budge. "The appointed time hasn't arrived. It isn't him."
"Maybe he sensed something was wrong and fled early!"
"He already came all the way here. Why would he leave before the time? It's barely half a quarter-hour until the second quarter of the Hour of the Sheep."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than the old man climbed the stairs once more.
Another person followed behind him.
They sat back down at his table and began talking.
With the stone-cutting noise so loud, they had to raise their voices. The clanging and hammering would occasionally pause, and whenever it did, the patrons' conversations echoed across the entire fourth floor.
The matchmaking table: "Let me tell you, there is no bride price in this city that low!"
The old man: "Then when will my son be released? You have to give me an exact word!"
The drunkard: "..."
Instantly, the entire fourth floor fell into an uncanny silence.
He Lingchuan calmly grabbed a wooden plank and resumed hammering nails: *clack, clack, clack*.
Yes, he was currently dressed in coarse cloth, blending into the renovation crew as an assistant while securing the best vantage point for himself.
Back when he was a patrol guard in Panlong City, he had often helped the townsfolk repair houses and wagons. He had learned his carpentry skills from Door Plank. While he lacked the man's mastery, he could pass as a decent laborer.
With the noise restored, the fourth floor returned to normal.
The soul-snatching mirror was baffled. "None of these three tables is the one. Doesn't that mean your whole setup was for nothing?"
He Lingchuan had specifically instructed the County Magistrate of Baishaqu to bring in an out-of-town repair crew to renovate Chaohu Pagoda starting yesterday, the twenty-eighth.
The reason for using an outside crew was to keep locals from catching wind of it beforehand.
At first, the mirror thought it understood He Lingchuan's intention. The pagoda had originally drawn too many visitors, making it impossible to single out Mr. Mai's contact in the crowd. Once construction began, foot traffic plummeted, and anyone who could tolerate the noise and linger on the fourth floor was almost certainly there for serious business.
That would make them easier to observe and identify.
Yet now, all three tables were ruled out. The contact might not have come at all, or might have come up, taken a turn, and left. After all, small knots of visitors had continued to trickle up, look around, and head back down.
Hadn't He Lingchuan wasted his effort? And burned a vital lead in the process?
Instead, He Lingchuan glanced up at the water clock in the teahouse and said, "It's almost the second quarter of the Hour of the Sheep. The time is about right."
"What's about right?" the mirror grumbled. "Make yourself clear!"
"Tell me: if you were the contact, and you saw Chaohu Pagoda undergoing major renovations not earlier, not later, but right when you had arranged to meet Mr. Mai, what would you think?" He Lingchuan chuckled softly. "Add to that the fact that you know the Crown Prince's special envoy is investigating cases in Baishaqu."
"I'd suspect things have gone sour and the deal had better be called off," the mirror replied without hesitation. "At the first sign of trouble, rats always scurry for their holes."
"But what if they've never managed to find Mr. Mai? If they miss today, they lose track of him."
The mirror wondered, "Is Mr. Mai that important?"
"I told Zhongsun Mou that Mr. Mai's subordinate, Wan Song, spilled plenty of secrets. If you were the mastermind, wouldn't you be worried?" He Lingchuan said in a low whisper. "Moreover, what if they don't show up, but Mr. Mai arrives as agreed and gets arrested by us? They would want to make sure that doesn't happen."
"To silence him?"
He Lingchuan nodded slightly. "So they shouldn't let this opportunity slip."
"Afraid to keep the appointment, yet afraid not to show up. A dilemma."
"Not really," He Lingchuan said with a smile. "People always cling to wishful thinking. Baishaqu has been renovating its scenic spots nonstop lately—more than a dozen places already. Who's to say Chaohu Pagoda isn't just undergoing routine repairs by coincidence?"
Chapter 483