He and Zhongsun Mou had merely been acquaintances in the past, without any deep history between them, but he knew the man acted with great caution. The current situation was in a state of chaos; Zhongsun Mou had actually come in person—was he not afraid of having his vulnerabilities seized upon by the so-called Crown Prince's special envoy?
"I've heard about what happened at Chaohu Pagoda this afternoon." The Water Mirror Technique lasted too briefly; if Zhongsun Mou wanted to hold a serious conversation, he had to come in person. "Your servant was captured through He Xiao's trickery. I'm afraid your secret won't remain safe for much longer."
"'Our' secret," Cen Boqing corrected him. "Didn't you say that all the materials and intelligence in Mai Xuewen's house were taken by you? How could that man surnamed He know the time and location of Mai Xuewen's exchange in Baishaqu?"
It had truly caught him off guard.
Originally, he had not paid any regard whatsoever to this supposed envoy of the Crown Prince, never expecting to suffer such a major loss and have the other party trace the vine straight to him.
Although He Xiao could not do anything to them yet, being targeted like this left a very sour taste in his mouth.
Who didn't prefer pulling strings from behind the scenes?
"He arrived first, and I followed immediately behind. The difference between us was merely a few breaths." Zhongsun Mou curled his lip slightly. "I can only say your luck was truly terrible."
Cen Boqing let out a breath. "Brother Zhongsun, coming here late at night, what brilliant insight do you have to offer?"
It was all because this fellow had grandiose ambitions but clumsy hands, stirring up so much trouble for him. And now he had the nerve to come and gloat?
"He Xiao is too good at causing trouble," Zhongsun Mou said bluntly. "My reinforcements have also arrived, and I wanted to see if Brother Cen requires any assistance."
He had come to urge him into action. Cen Boqing narrowed his eyes. "The person I hired has been preparing for days. He can make his move tonight."
"How confident are you?"
"I wouldn't dare claim it's ironclad, but let's say an eighty-percent chance of success."
That was quite high. Zhongsun Mou relaxed slightly. "Splendid. Do you require us to guard him during the ritual?"
"He permits no bystanders while casting his arts." Cen Boqing still treated this Inspector with a measure of courtesy, adding tactfully, "However, please be prepared, Brother Zhongsun, to step in and fill any cracks at a moment's notice."
"In that case, how about we do this..."
...
On the way back, Jiao Yu warned He Lingchuan once more, "You are a thorn in their side now. Be extremely careful."
"I know." He Lingchuan was well aware. "As long as they kill me, the investigation grinds to a halt."
When people cannot solve a problem, they usually solve the person causing it.
Right now, he was that very troublemaker.
So long as they killed him, the mastermind could return to living a peaceful, unruffled life, basking in spring warmth and blooming flowers.
At present, he was at a disadvantage because he was out in the open while his opponent remained in the shadows.
This shadowy opponent had likely already bared its fangs at him.
As for Zhongsun Mou, who was out in the open, He Lingchuan could not kill him in his role as the special envoy of Chiyan Kingdom.
Not slaying, wounding, or humiliating the Inspector was the bottom line set for Fu Shanyue by the Ruler of Chiyan.
"There's also a third party, friend or foe unknown, likewise lurking in the shadows." He Lingchuan's mind remained very clear.
"You mean...?" Jiao Yu paused, then quickly caught on. "Oh, the one who sent us the *Records of Reverence for the Gods*! You think he's Mr. Mai?"
"He wanted someone to trace the clues here—whether it was me or Zhongsun Mou, so long as someone tracked it down," He Lingchuan mused. "Yet Zhongsun Mou sided with the mastermind, even publicly declaring the courier case resolved. In that case, this third party must be quite displeased."
"Will they make a move against us too?"
"Not necessarily, but being on guard never hurts." Who knew what their intentions were?
Right now, he had at least two sets of adversaries: one eager to see him dead, and the other harboring hidden motives with unknown schemes.
He had only been in Baishaqu for a few days; did things really have to be this lively?
Half an hour later, He Lingchuan returned to the inn where he was staying.
Casting his eyes downward, he noticed that a strand of sheep's wool stuck to the seam of the guest room door had fallen off.
That had been one of General Ling's whiskers—quite a long one.
In other words, someone had secretly entered his room.
He had set up these little mechanisms and precautions to guard against Mr. Mai and the mastermind behind him. Of course, now Zhongsun Mou was another person he had to watch out for.
He Lingchuan stepped inside and inspected the room, discovering that none of the other small traps he had laid had been triggered.
Which meant the intruder hadn't conducted a carpet search of every corner; their movement within the room had even been very limited.
What was the other party trying to do?
Just then, Jiao Yu hurried in from outside, looking grave.
"I got the answers."
It had parted ways with him earlier to look into their latest intelligence.
He Lingchuan was mentally prepared. "Oh? Which powerful family actually owns that mansion?"
"It's Cen Boqing, the eldest son-in-law of the Beijia Kingdom's Minister of Agriculture."
He Lingchuan instantly felt that his mental preparation had been a bit lacking. "Wait, Minister of Agriculture from where?"
"From Lingxu City! One of the Nine Ministers! In charge of Beijia's revenue and grain, possessing immense authority." Jiao Yu retracted its pads slightly, its claws gouging three scratches into the table. "Cen Boqing himself is a Weiyang Captain. He's won battles, has military merits to his name, and is said to be on the verge of promotion. Many in the court are fawning over his family."
He Lingchuan scratched his head. "No wonder the captive didn't dare say his name aloud."
He had long expected that digging deep into this case might step on the toes of certain figures in Lingxu City.
Yet he had not anticipated the opponent's background would be this formidable.
The three words "Lingxu City" formed a chasm that how many officials across vassal demon kingdoms dared not cross?
"What do we do now?" Jiao Yu asked him.
"Uncle Wu's subordinates—the confessions of just two minor figures can't bring down an opponent of Cen Boqing's caliber," He Lingchuan said slowly. "However, we now know who our target is and which direction to push. That in itself is major progress."
He glanced at the sky. "Tomorrow, we'll take the captive and pay this son-in-law Captain a visit."
Just then, the courtyard gate rattled. Commander Lu's personal guards had arrived with food, matching the counter-signals without a single error.
Before returning to the inn, He Lingchuan had instructed Commander Lu to have his personal guards take turns delivering meals from then on, rotating the personnel and alternating the restaurants from which the food was purchased.
For an opponent lurking in the shadows to scheme against him, there were only three methods: assassination, poison, or curses.
As for assassination, Zhongsun Mou likely knew he wasn't easy to kill, and carrying out an assassination in a place like Baishaqu with so many eyes and ears could easily go wrong.
The more covert methods were the latter two.
He Lingchuan currently had no origin power to protect himself, making his resistance to poisons and curses comparatively weak. Zhongsun Mou was well aware that he was a foreigner, so these two methods would have a higher chance of success.
Therefore, starting today, He Lingchuan had to be vigilant on all fronts.
Even though Commander Lu's guards had delivered the meal and matched the secret signals, he still took out his vial and dripped medicinal testing fluid to test for poison, eating only after confirming it was safe.
This fluid had been concocted by his clever monkey, Lingguang, who claimed that one could never be too careful and that it was an essential remedy for home and travel.
Alas, if Lingguang were here, he wouldn't need to worry about being poisoned at all.
After finishing his meal, he circulated his energy and regulated his breathing for over an hour, then went down to the public bathhouse that operated around the clock. There were quite a few people inside.
Before lying down back in his room, he routinely brought out the soul-snatching mirror and swept its reflection through every corner of the room, not even sparing the roof beams.
This mirror could see through many divine abilities and shamanic curses; it was his trusty tool for leaving no stone unchecked.
He Lingchuan held the mirror and swept it beneath the bed. It was just a casual sweep, but the mirror cried out, "Hey, hey, hey, go back!"
He leaned down, illuminating every inch under the bed with the mirror.
"Here!" The mirror shone a beam of light onto the underside of the bedboard.
Only then did He Lingchuan notice a tiny clump of gray silk where the light fell, resembling spider silk.
In such a dark, damp corner, wasn't cobweb the most normal thing in the world?
No matter how glamorous an inn appeared on the outside, its unseen corners gathered just as much dirt and grime.
Yet stuck to the silk was a round gray cocoon, slightly smaller than an ordinary silkworm chrysalis, thoroughly inconspicuous.
Had the mirror not illuminated it in microscopic detail, he likely would have overlooked it even if he had seen it with his own eyes.
He Lingchuan drew his dagger, dug the cluster out, and set it ablaze.
At the exact moment the flames consumed the round cocoon, in another inn more than three hundred zhang away, someone suddenly clutched their chest and let out a heart-wrenching scream!
The person tore open his robes, only to find a large patch of charred flesh on his chest, looking as though it had just been scorched by open flames and even giving off the scent of roasted meat.
"Curse it, it was discovered!"
The man had no choice but to swiftly swallow medicine and pour cleansing liquid repeatedly over the wound.
After nearly half an hour, the wound finally closed up, leaving a scar the size of a copper coin.
Healing completely would take some time.
"Hmph, don't get cocky. You're in for utter disaster!" He pulled out a barefoot wooden carving, set it on the table, and lit two tribute candles.
This was a statuette of a deity, two palms tall, its wood somewhat aged. Although the gilded finish had not completely flaked off, its form did not possess the solemn dignity of typical divine statues. Instead, it bore a hundred faces and a hundred aspects, and its attire was far from dignified—a tattered cloak of a hundred rags.
Across the chest, hands, feet, neck, and even through the tears in its clothing sprouted face after face. Some had only one eye, while others had as many as three or four; some had eyes as wide as copper bells, while others glared so hard their eye sockets tore and bled.
Some faces were weeping bitterly, some were laughing wildly, some were in towering rages, and some were grieving—every single one twisted in agony or madness.
Only a few faces were completely blank, devoid of eyes, nose, or mouth—what could perhaps be called expressionless.
Other divine statues evoked feelings of either majesty or benevolence, but this one was hideous and terrifying; a single extra glance was enough to send chills down one's spine.
It was as though countless resentful ghosts had been crammed inside this wooden carving.
The man squeezed a few drops of medicinal liquid into his eyes and placed a small wooden sphere into the offering bowl. Then he knelt stiffly, lit half an incense stick, and began muttering incantations under his breath.
Having applied the eye drops, he could see a translucent shadow rising from within the wooden sphere. It was the soul of a toddler only three or four years old, its little body still dripping wet—likely having drowned.
Once the child's soul emerged, it looked left and right in confusion, not understanding what was happening, but instinctively drew close to inhale deeply of the incense smoke.
This was its nourishment, replenishing its weakened spirit form.
The wooden ball was carved from seabed wood, allowing remnant souls to dwell within it temporarily.
The curse master produced two whole sticks of incense, lit them, pressed the blunt ends against his forehead, and chanted incantations once more.
The night was silent, and the atmosphere in the room quickly congealed.
It was as if something invisible yet formidable was drawing near, so oppressive that even the chirping of insects outside ceased entirely.
Chapter 486