gnovel Chapter 022: Qin Mansion's Spy
Chapter 022: Qin Mansion's Spy
In the latter part of the first month of the twelfth year of Shaoxing, the chill in Lin'an had not yet completely dissipated.
On the third day after moving into the Prince's mansion, Zhao Bocong discovered his first spy.
There was no dramatic covert investigation involved.
The servant boy named Liu An was about seventeen or eighteen years old. He had a thin, long face, light eyebrows, and droopy eyes. When he looked at people, he habitually lowered his head and looked up from below.
She is someone who doesn't want to be noticed.
Every evening, Liu An would stand in the alley behind the Prince's Mansion for a while, not for long, only about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.
Zhao Bocong first noticed him because of where Liu An was standing.
From the corner to the left of the back door, you can see the study window perfectly.
His every move in the study, how long the candle burned, and when the light went out—everyone in that position could see it clearly.
Zhao Bozong noticed the anomaly, but he didn't point it out.
The next morning, when Liu An brought a copper basin into the study to help him wash up, Zhao Bozong looked at his face in the copper mirror.
"What's your name?"
"Little Liu An."
"How long have you been here?"
"Your Highness, it has been three years. I used to serve in the palace, but after Your Highness was promoted to Prince, I was transferred to your residence."
Zhao Bozong wiped his face dry and draped the cloth over the edge of the copper basin.
Three years—that means he'd been in the palace since the ninth year of the Shaoxing era. His transfer wasn't accidental; it was a seed planted by Qin Hui three years prior.
The original owner was completely unaware that he had lived next to nails for three years. Countless evenings passed by under the palace corridors, and Liu An stood in a corner, noting what books he read, who he met, and what time the lights were turned off.
"From this day forward, you will be my personal attendant."
Liu An raised his head, his gaze sweeping upwards, a flicker of something Zhao Bozong couldn't quite place in his eyes—whether it was surprise or wariness.
"Your Highness, I am but a lowly servant—"
"A humble servant is always the most considerate." Zhao Bozong picked up the cloth from the edge of the copper basin and draped it on the rack. "My personal attendant is with me every day. All he can see is what books I read, who I meet, and where I go. I never intended to hide these things from anyone."
Liu An lowered his head. "Yes."
In the afternoon, Li Yanxian returned from the direction of Xiangyang, bringing news that Yue Yinping had arrived in Xiangyang safely.
Zhao Bozong listened to his report in his study, and remained silent for a while afterward.
"Li Yanxian, there are Qin Hui's spies in the mansion."
Li Yanxian's fingers rested on the hilt of the sword at her waist. "Who?"
"Liu An." Zhao Bozong casually flipped through a page of a book on the table. "Don't touch him for now."
"Your Highness—" Li Yanxian gripped the hilt of his sword even tighter, but didn't say anything more.
"He was by my side every day. I never intended to hide it from Qin Hui. What I let him see was what I wanted him to see."
Li Yanxian remained silent for a moment, then removed his fingers from the hilt of the sword. "What does Your Highness want him to see?"
Zhao Bocong picked up his brush, dipped it in ink, and wrote four small characters in tiny regular script next to the words the original owner had written.
"Concealing one's clumsiness through skill."
It was almost indistinguishable from the original owner's handwriting; this was an effect he had achieved after practicing for three whole days.
This was his first lesson at the Prince of Puan's residence. To survive under the hunter's nose, the best hiding place wasn't to hide, but to stand in front of the hunter and make him think he saw everything.
Qin Hui wanted a member of the imperial family who was addicted to wine and women and had no ambition, so he tried his best to play that role well.
On the second day of the second month of the twelfth year of Shaoxing, the dragon raised its head.
Prince Puan's carriage made a grand entrance in front of the North Wa Gate, south of Zhong'an Bridge.
Beiwa was the largest entertainment district in Lin'an City, containing thirteen brothels, music pavilions, and terraces. The larger brothels could accommodate over a thousand people.
Zhao Bozong stood at the entrance, looking at the banner hanging at the entrance of the brothel, which had red backgrounds and black characters indicating the programs to be performed today.
Next to the flag, there were also plaques for famous actors. The top one read Ding Xianxian, and the ones below it read Wang Tuanzi and Zhang Qisheng.
Liu An followed behind, carrying Zhao Bozong's cloak in his hand, his face showing an expression of trying hard not to appear too curious.
A spy who had worked in the palace for three years probably had never been to a theater, as palace eunuchs were not allowed to visit theaters.
Zhao Bocong deliberately walked slowly, giving Liu An enough time to see everything clearly at the entrance of the brothel.
A variety show was being performed on the stage, and the sheds below were full of people. The brothel was surrounded by railings, and someone was collecting money at the entrance.
Zhao Bocong had Liu An pay the copper coins, and the two entered the largest brothel.
A variety show was being performed on the lazy stage. Zhao Bozong found a corner seat and sat down, with Liu An standing beside him.
On the stage, a clown dressed as an official was reciting a humorous judgment while shaking his head, and the audience below burst into laughter.
Zhao Bozong was also smiling, but his peripheral vision wasn't on the stage; he was looking at the people.
The Washa was the most chaotic place in Lin'an City. Yang Xizhong, the commander of the Palace Guard, originally created the Washa to provide entertainment for the soldiers during their leisure time.
However, the Xiuneisi later built five more entertainment venues in the city, attracting a large influx of citizens, and the entertainment venues became gathering places for all sorts of people.
Zhao Bozong spotted the scarlet battle robes of the Imperial Guards, the short tunics of the Lin'an Prefecture officials, and several well-dressed people who were deliberately sitting in the corners of the crowd.
Every faction in Lin'an City had placed spies in the Washeli.
After the variety show on stage ended, an old man who tells history took his place. He struck the gavel and began reciting the History of the Five Dynasties.
Zhao Bocong listened for a moment, and the old man was talking about Shi Jingtang ceding the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan and Yun and calling himself a puppet emperor.
The cheers from the audience gradually subsided; some people lowered their heads to drink tea, some got up and left, and no one wanted to hear this part.
Just as Zhao Bozong was about to get up and change to another brothel, he suddenly heard a commotion coming from the brothel next door.
It wasn't cheers, it was curses.
A woman's voice, sharp and loud, pierced through the thin wooden walls between the brothels—"Get out!"
Then came the sound of porcelain shattering.
Zhao Bocong stood up, and Liu An subconsciously reached out to stop him, but then withdrew his hand.
I walked through the crowd to the entrance of the brothel next door. This brothel was smaller than the previous one, and a performance was taking place on the stage.
A courtesan dressed in a lotus-colored jacket was standing on the stage, holding a pipa in her hands. One of the pipa's strings was broken, and the broken string was curled up and hanging down.
A teacup was overturned on the table in front of her, and several musicians from the brothel stood behind her, still holding their instruments, but no one dared to move.
There were three men standing in the audience.
The leader was about thirty years old, wearing a scarlet official robe with a silver belt around his waist. His turban was slightly tilted to one side, his face was flushed, and a smile played on his lips.
Zhao Bocong recognized the scarlet official robe; it was the color of the robe worn by the Vice Minister of the Court of Judicial Review.
"Lord Wanqi," the singer's voice descended from the stage, neither humble nor arrogant, "I sing, but do not sell my body. Lord Wanqi, please return."
The man in the scarlet robe below the stage chuckled. "Miss Ding, you've been singing in this brothel for three years. Who in Lin'an doesn't know your name? I've come here today specifically to hear you sing, and you won't even offer me a cup of tea?"
"I have finished singing. Today's song is 'Rainy Night Bell,' which Lord Wanqi just listened to."
"Rainy Night Bells is not good." Lord Wanqi took a staggering step forward. "Change to another one. Change to Drunken Penglai."
The courtesan's fingers trembled slightly on the broken strings of the pipa. Zhao Bozong, standing in the crowd, saw her suppressing her anger.
A courtesan who had been singing in a brothel for three years had seen all kinds of customers, but this customer in front of her was someone she couldn't afford to offend.