gnovel Chapter 002: Yue Yinping
Chapter 002: Yue Yinping
Zhao Bocong had read the historical materials.
Yue Yinping, the second daughter of Yue Fei, whose birth year is unknown.
On the 29th day of the twelfth month of the eleventh year of Shaoxing, my father was ordered to commit suicide at Fengbo Pavilion in Dali Temple, and my elder brother Yue Yun and his subordinate Zhang Xian were killed on the same day.
Historical records about her consist of only seven words: "The woman embraced a silver bottle and threw herself into a well, where she died."
That's a story from the Qing Dynasty novel "The Complete Story of Yue Fei," not official history.
In official history, she didn't even leave her name.
But now she's kneeling here, alive, her knees on the ice, the hem of her mourning clothes soaked through by snowmelt, clinging to the bluestone slabs.
Yue Yinping placed her hands on her knees, her fingers interlaced, in a sorrowful and devout gesture.
But Zhao Bocong noticed that her right index finger was rhythmically tapping the back of her left hand.
One, two, three, pause. Then two, three, pause.
Each set consists of three repetitions, with a pause of about one breath between sets.
It wasn't an unconscious tremor; tremors don't have such a uniform rhythm.
It wasn't from the cold. The cold air in Lin'an during the first month of the lunar calendar could crack pottery jars. If a person were shivering at that temperature, their fingers would be erratic, broken, and out of rhythm.
But not her hands.
Zhao Bocong adjusted his posture, making himself look like a bystander watching the spectacle.
His gaze went over Yue Yinping's shoulder and followed the direction of her fingers—not that her fingers were actually pointing somewhere, but rather that the rhythm of her tapping seemed to be echoing something.
The outer wall of Dali Temple, the entrance to the drainage ditch.
The canal opening is about two feet square, sealed off by an iron fence, with gaps in the fence large enough for an arm to pass through.
There was a crack in the ice on the inside, which stretched from the bottom of the fence into the shadows.
The cracks weren't naturally formed; they were pried open from the inside.
The ice shards at the edge of the crack were still fresh, not a smooth surface that had refrozen.
There is someone in the drainage ditch.
Zhao Bozong's back tensed slightly, but he maintained a relaxed facial expression, shifting his gaze from the drainage ditch to another direction in the crowd.
A person stood in the shadow of the side gate of Dali Temple.
The man was wearing a prison guard's grayish-blue short robe, with a black belt around his waist. He was not wearing a hat, which revealed his gray hair.
Kui Shun.
A name suddenly popped into Zhao Bozong's mind, making his heart skip a beat.
Kui Shun, the jailer in historical records who carried Yue Fei's body out of prison.
The extremely short passage under the entry for the 12th month of the 11th year of the Shaoxing reign (11943) in Volume 143 of the *Chronological Records Since the Jianyan Era*—
"Yue Fei died at Dali Temple. A jailer named Wei Shun carried his body out and buried it next to the Jiuqu Congci Temple. After Wei Shun died, he told his son: 'General Yue died unjustly, but there will surely be a day when his name is cleared. Remember this tomb.'" This is the same Wei Shun.
He was staring at Yue Yinping's hand.
Zhao Bocong noticed that Kui Shun's lips were moving slightly, as if he was silently counting something.
His positioning was clever; the door frame of the side door concealed most of his body.
He was barely visible from the direction of the main gate of Dali Temple, but the entrance to the drainage ditch was right in his line of sight.
He was reading Yue Yinping's code.
But Kui Shun did not respond. His fingers were clenched so tightly that they turned white. He didn't knock on anything, didn't make any sound, and didn't even change his posture.
He was just watching, and there was something in his eyes that Zhao Bozong couldn't quite make out—not anxiety or fear, but restraint.
What is he waiting for?
Zhao Bocong's brain was working at high speed.
If there were coded communications between Wei Shun and Yue Yinping, it would indicate that he was not merely a sympathizer but an accomplice.
Kui Shun was a member of Yue's family.
But if it's someone from the Yue family, why didn't he take direct action? Why make Yue Yinping kneel outside for three days?
Unless... unless he can't do it.
Inside the Dali Temple, someone was watching Kui Shun.
Zhao Bozong's gaze swept across the crowd again; he was looking for a second person.
He had already recognized several of the spies from Lin'an Prefecture, including the gray-clad man who had stood by the tea stall for half an hour without moving, and the middle-aged man pretending to sell steamed buns.
And there was that skinny man who was dozing against the wall, but whose eyelids would open a crack every few breaths.
The spies in Lin'an Prefecture were the outermost layer of Qin Hui's three surveillance systems—numerous, discerning, and easy to identify.
Their task was not to take action, but to keep watch over the area and record everyone who lingered outside the Dali Temple for more than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.
But Qin Hui wouldn't only release people from Lin'an Prefecture.
There's also the Imperial City Guard.
The Imperial City Guard was Zhao Gou's personal guard and, in theory, was not under Qin Hui's control.
However, by the twelfth year of the Shaoxing era, the Imperial City Guard was already under Qin Hui's influence, and Zhao Gou's dependence on Qin Hui had reached a dangerous critical point.
Historically, in the early spring of the year following Yue Fei's death, Qin Hui was granted the title of Duke of Wei, and his power gradually increased.
The Imperial City Guards won't kill for Qin Hui, but they will watch for him.
The Imperial City Guard's informants are positioned even higher.
Zhao Bozong looked up and glanced at the second-floor window of the teahouse across the street. Behind the half-open window, a figure was moving.
Further away, on the roof of the pawnshop diagonally opposite the Dali Temple, there was an unnatural reflection between the tiles—it wasn't snow, it was iron.
The Imperial City Guards occupy a commanding position, overlooking the entire situation; their mission is to "keep an eye on the big fish."
What kind of person is considered a big fish? It's not Yue Yinping—Yue Yinping is kneeling there, she can't escape. The big fish is the person who contacted her.
There is also a third system.
Qin Hui's own secret agents.
The secret agents of the Qin family wouldn't be able to see Yue Yinping.
They would look among the onlookers to see who was observing Yue Yinping.
Thinking of this, Zhao Bozong suddenly felt a chill down his spine.
He stood on the outskirts of the crowd, by the tea stall, holding a bowl of tea that had gone cold.
This position offers a clear view of the drainage ditch, Wei Shun's and Yue Yinping's hands, as well as the main flow of the crowd. Any trained observer would choose this position.
He was looking for someone, and Qin Hui's secret agents were also looking for someone.
And he was a boy who appeared outside the Dali Temple for several days in a row, constantly changing his position, observing Yue Yinping and the drainage ditch.
In the eyes of the secret agent, what was he? He was the big fish.
Zhao Bocong remained calm.
He placed the teacup on the bench at the tea stall, took out three copper coins from his sleeve, and laid them out on the table.
Then he turned around, walked against the flow of the crowd about fifty steps into the depths of the Imperial Street, and stopped in front of a stall selling roasted chestnuts.
"Give me half a jin," he said.
His peripheral vision swept behind him.
A middle-aged man in gray clothes left about ten breaths after the man left the tea stall.
The man in gray did not follow too closely, maintaining a distance of about thirty paces, walking under the eaves on the other side of the Imperial Street.
His stride was even, neither fast nor slow, and his gaze was fixed straight ahead.
An ordinary person wouldn't walk so evenly; an ordinary person would look around, stop to watch the excitement, or be attracted by the hawking sounds from the roadside.
The man in gray didn't. His entire attention was on Zhao Bozong.
Was it a spy from Lin'an Prefecture, or a secret agent from the Qin family?
Zhao Bozong took the chestnut, peeled one, and put it in his mouth.
The chestnuts were roasted with sugar, but he couldn't taste the sweetness.
His brain was working at high speed. If he were a spy from Lin'an Prefecture, he would automatically escape once he left the Dali Temple's territory.
The people from Lin'an Prefecture were in charge of the "site" and wouldn't follow one person too far.
If they are secret agents from the Qin family, they will follow them indefinitely.
Follow him until he makes a mistake, or until he meets his contact, then close the net.