gnovel Chapter 003: Entering the Game
Chapter 003: Entering the Game
The man in gray stopped.
At the intersection of the Imperial Street and a small alley, he leaned against the wall, took out a flint and steel from his pocket, and pretended to light a cigarette.
But his eyes never left Zhao Bozong's direction.
As expected, they were Qin's secret agents, Zhao Bocong confirmed in his heart.
He continued walking forward, his mind racing, trying to figure out a way to escape.
Because he was traveling incognito, he had nothing on him that could prove his identity.
If he were to display the token of the Duke of Jian Guo.
The token was in his sleeve. The spies would retreat, but Qin Hui would know within an hour that "Duke Zhao Bocong of Jian Guo was observing Yue Yinping outside the Dali Temple."
Once this information reached Qin Hui, all his previous caution was wasted.
If he doesn't reveal his identity, he won't be able to shake off a trained spy.
He was being watched. From the moment he stood still outside the Dali Temple.
As Zhao Bocong walked to the middle of the Imperial Street and was about to turn into a small alley, a commotion suddenly broke out in the crowd behind him.
"She stood up!"
"He's been kneeling for three days, but he's stood up!"
Zhao Bozong turned around abruptly, and the crowd surged toward the main gate of Dali Temple like a tidal wave.
He was swept back a few steps by the crowd, his back bumping into a pillar. He tiptoed over the sea of heads and looked toward the Dali Temple.
Yue Yinping stood up.
Her knees, which had been kneeling for three days, left two dark watermarks on the bluestone slab; these were the colors of snowmelt that had seeped into the cracks of the stone after soaking through her mourning clothes.
Her body swayed slightly, as if her legs had gone numb from kneeling for so long, but she regained her balance.
The hem of her mourning clothes fluttered slightly in the wind, like a plain white flag. Her face was blue from the cold, and her lips were chapped.
She turned around and faced the crowd.
"Prime Minister Qin forbids the collection of the body." Her voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear and distinct, as if she had practiced it a thousand times. "Fine. I won't collect it."
The crowd quieted down.
"But I'm going in," Yue Yinping said. "Just me, going in empty-handed. Coming out empty-handed."
Her gaze swept across the crowd, glancing at the spies from Lin'an Prefecture, the figures behind the teahouse windows, and the unnatural reflection on the pawnshop roof.
"I want to see my father one last time."
There was no pleading in her voice. She wasn't begging anyone; she was announcing to everyone—I'm going in.
Zhao Bozong's eyelids twitched suddenly.
Yue Yinping's coded signal stopped, and in the crack in the ice at the entrance of the drainage ditch, the shadow flickered, and the person inside moved.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the sway; Kui Shun was gone, and the shadow of the side gate of Dali Temple was empty.
Zhao Bocong suddenly seemed to have figured something out. Yue Yinping had been giving the coded signal for three days, but Wei Shun had not responded.
It wasn't because no one was in the drain; it was because the person couldn't respond.
Yue Yinping has been playing the same rhythm all day, three strokes at a time, repeating it over and over.
That wasn't communication, it was confirmation; she was confirming that Kui Shun was still alive.
After she confirmed it, she stood up.
She changed the whole plan; she wasn't begging Qin Hui, she was sending herself to Dali Temple.
The gates of the Dali Temple opened.
With a creak, the two large black doors were pulled open from the inside.
A hand peeked out from the crack in the door; it was thin and with large knuckles, and dark marks that couldn't be washed off were embedded in the nail crevices.
Then came a face with a hooked nose, deep-set eyes, high cheekbones, and a sparse goatee on his chin. It was Zhou Sanwei, the Minister of the Court of Judicial Review.
Zhou Sanwei stood behind the threshold, half of his body still in the shadows inside the doorway.
He looked at Yue Yinping.
"Miss Yue," his voice was hoarse, "this is a restricted area of the Dali Temple; entry is prohibited except on official business."
"I've come to see my father," Yue Yinping said. "Does the bond between father and daughter count as official business?"
Wednesday Wei remained silent.
Zhao Bozong stared at Zhou Sanwei's face, which was expressionless. But Zhao Bozong noticed his right hand, hanging at his side, with his index finger and thumb constantly rubbing against each other, as if he were turning a string of non-existent prayer beads.
He hesitated. No, it wasn't hesitation. Zhou Sanwei was the Minister of the Court of Judicial Review. In the eighth year of the Shaoxing era, he had tried Yue Fei's case and submitted a memorial stating that "Yue Fei is innocent," which was suppressed by Qin Hui.
If he really wanted to stop them, he wouldn't need to go to the door himself; sending a jailer to close it would have been enough.
He came in person to open the door.
Zhou Sanwei took half a step back.
"Miss Yue," he said, "please."
Yue Yinping stepped over the threshold, the hem of her mourning clothes dragging on the threshold, picking up some dust, but she didn't turn around.
The door slammed shut behind her, the black lacquered panels clattering together with a dull thud.
The crowd stirred.
Some people were discussing it, some were cheering, and some were starting to leave.
Zhao Bocong didn't move; he was waiting for Yue Yinping to come out and for the gray-clad man's reaction.
The man in gray didn't move. He was still at the base of the wall, his flint and steel gone, replaced by a half-burnt pipe in his mouth, his gaze still fixed on Zhao Bocong's direction.
His task was not to monitor Yue Yinping—Yue Yinping had already entered the Dali Temple and couldn't escape.
His task was to monitor the person who was making contact with Yue Yinping, namely Zhao Bocong.
Zhao Bocong suddenly understood.
Yue Yinping knelt for three days and used the secret signal for three days. Today, she suddenly stood up and asked to enter the Dali Temple. It was not because she had lost patience.
It was because she discovered that Kui Shun in the drainage ditch was being watched too closely and was unable to move.
She changed her plans. She sent herself to the Dali Temple, not to see her father one last time, but to join Kui Shun in the temple.
But before entering the Dali Temple, she did one last thing.
She glanced at the crowd.
That glance landed on Zhao Bocong.
Zhao Bocong remembered.
After she stood up, she turned to face the crowd, her gaze sweeping over the spy, the teahouse, and the pawnshop rooftops, finally lingering for a moment in his direction.
It wasn't the kind of casual glance; it was confirmation. She confirmed the gray-clad man's location and realized that he was the one being stared at.
Yue Yinping did it on purpose.
She deliberately glanced at Zhao Bozong, making the man in gray think that Zhao Bozong was one of hers.
This way, the man in gray would continue to keep his eyes on Zhao Bocong, while Kui Shun on the other side of the drainage ditch would disappear as the man in gray's attention was drawn to Zhao Bocong.
Zhao Bozong felt a chill run through his blood in an instant, and his scalp tingled. Yue Yinping had turned him into bait with just one glance.
The tea in the teacup had already frozen solid. Zhao Bozong stood up. He didn't try to shake off the man in gray. He walked through the crowd into the alley. Thirty steps behind him, the man in gray caught up.
Zhao Bozong did not turn around; the corners of his mouth were slightly raised.
Yue Yinping used him as bait, but he could also use the gray-clad man as his talisman.
The fact that the man in gray was watching him meant that Qin Hui wouldn't touch him for the time being.
Qin Hui wanted to play the long game. What Zhao Bocong needed most right now was time—time to figure out what Yue Yinping was really up to.
He walked deeper into the alley, the footsteps behind him neither hurried nor slow.
Zhao Bozong suddenly recalled that scene from the original owner's memories.
The armored man crouched down, his rough hands patting his head, his voice low.
"Your Highness, I have something for you. Please keep it safe."
The man's face was blurry in his memory, and he suddenly realized something.
The original owner entered the palace at the age of seven in the second year of Shaoxing. In the second year of Shaoxing, Yue Fei was reporting on his duties in Lin'an.
A person wearing armor has thick calluses on the tiger's mouth, which are from years of holding a gun.
He spoke in a deep voice, lowering his tone, and stuffed something into the lining of a child's clothes.
Is it him?