Chapter 89: The Report of Merits

Xie Er panicked, and before he could react, a tremendous force seized the back of his collar and dragged him toward the cabin door like a dead dog.

Xie Er's face went pale with fright, his limbs flailing desperately, and he barely managed to hook his right foot around the corner of the Ottoman divan, straining his toes to hold on.

Bailangzai increased his strength, dragging the Ottoman divan along with him; the handwoven carpet wrinkled in a patch, knocking over the small tea table on it, and Xie Er's neck was choked by his collar, his face flushed red.

He squeezed words out from his throat: "Where's the mistake? I'll fix it!"

Lin Qian flipped through the parchment book, paying him no mind.

"It's the service corridors, the service corridors! I'll add the service corridors!"

Lin Qian still did not answer, his expression focused on the book.

"And the river steps! There's a river landing behind the mansion, connected to the Yongning River, which flows into the Ling River and then out to the Eastern Sea—you can send boats... cough... you can send boats in!"

That parchment book recorded the Spaniards' experiences on the American continent—half realistic, half mythological, often jotting down a few sentences before launching into lengthy theological digressions.

Were it not for the occasional tidbits describing the secrets of the Incas and the Maya, Lin Qian would have long lost interest in reading further.

Bailangzai glanced at Lin Qian, and seeing that he still hadn't been told to stop, clearly meant to intimidate harder.

He drew his dagger and made as if to sever Xie Er's ankle tendons.

Xie Er wailed like a ghost howling: "I truly don't know anything else! I've only been to the inner hall—I've never seen the back residence! The silver on the ship gets unloaded at the dock and handed to the accounts office—where the accounts office keeps it, I really don't know!"

Lin Qian waved his hand, and Bailangzai released Xie Er.

Xie Er, as if granted a pardon, clung to the Ottoman divan with all four limbs, refusing to let go.

Lin Qian took a sheet of paper from the navigation table.

"Redraw it."

Xie Er took the paper cautiously, and on his way back, he cleaned up the mess he had made in his struggles.

An hour later, the new map was finished and handed to Lin Qian.

This version of the map was much more detailed—narrow passageways had been added to both sides of the compound, and these were the service corridors.

Service corridors were generally extremely concealed, their entrances often hidden behind rockeries or woodpiles, the whole thing tucked between buildings, never seeing sunlight, pitch dark.

These were paths for the household servants, used for carrying water, delivering food, making patrols, and the like.

Servants moving through them could avoid disturbing the masters' daily life.

Precisely because they were for servants, service corridors ran straight and direct, with none of the aesthetic winding-path charm of Chinese garden design.

In a great mansion like this, if you needed to reach some compound quickly, the service corridors were the most concealed and fastest route.

Xie Er had also added the river steps.

Jiangnan lived by its waterways—the river steps were a private dock, connecting outward to the river channels and inward to the mansion's rear gate.

When the household purchased bulk goods like grain, oil, rice, flour, and firewood, they generally came through here.

If the young lady of the house wished to go out, she would generally board a boat from here as well.

Xie Er waited quietly for Lin Qian to examine the map while his mind churned with thoughts.

Service corridors were extremely secret within a mansion—common folk who had never set foot in a great compound could never know of them.

So this helmsman, this master, was definitely no ordinary commoner—at the very least, he was a ship's steward for some household, just like himself.

Throughout all of Zhejiang, there were also the Zhu clan of Shanyin, the Sun clan of Yuyao, the Tu clan of Yin County, and other distinguished families—among them, the Zhu clan of Shanyin held the greatest power, and they too participated in the private shipping trade.

But the Zhu and Lin clans were both in Zhejiang, too far from Fujian and Guangdong to exert influence, and they shouldn't have the capacity to establish a stronghold of this scale on Nan'ao Island.

And speaking of Fujian and Guangdong, the most powerful would be... the Ye clan of Fuqing.

The most famous member of the Ye clan was the former Chief Grand Secretary of the Grand Secretariat, and sole Grand Secretary at that—Ye Xianggao.

Only he would have the capacity to build a fortified residence of this scale on Nan'ao Island.

The Chief Grand Secretary had always enjoyed a reputation for integrity—who would have thought that behind the scenes, he'd done plenty of dirty deeds as well. Truly, all crows under heaven are equally black.

Just as he was lost in wild speculation, Lin Qian set the map down and said softly: "Draw it in more detail."

Xie Er opened his mouth in astonishment. Seeing that Lin Qian seemed to have no intention of returning the map, he had no choice but to go back to the table and continue drawing.

An hour later, the new map was finished.

After Lin Qian took it, he pointed out several discrepancies between the two maps and told Xie Er to draw another one.

By the time the morning sun shone through the glass into the captain's quarters, Xie Er was exhausted from drawing.

The fabrications he had painstakingly built into the first map—he could no longer remember them either.

The fifth map showed clear differences from the previous four: the routes of several service corridors had changed, and the labels on several compounds had been altered.

Bailangzai handed the map to Lin Qian.

Xie Er secretly gloated to himself.

This King of Hell hadn't slept all night—he must be mentally weary by now. Those changes were extremely subtle, and surely he wouldn't notice them.

Who would have expected that when Lin Qian took the map, he only glanced at it once before setting it down and snorting coldly: "Loyal to the end, aren't you."

"I didn't—ah—" Xie Er's words were cut off mid-sentence as excruciating pain shot through his finger; the rest of his words were swallowed back down, leaving only screams.

Lin Qian glanced at Bailangzai.

Bailangzai explained: "I broke the left thumb—no problem for drawing."

Lin Qian said to Xie Er again: "When we pay our respects at the mansion, you'll be coming along. If I see any place that doesn't match what you've drawn, you'll get a blade on the spot."

Xie Er clutched his left hand, cold sweat covering his head, and said through the pain: "This one understands..."

"Draw." Bailangzai fetched another sheet of paper and placed it before Xie Er.

Just then, a crewman knocked and entered: "Helmsman, your breakfast has been brought, and there's also a letter."

The crewman glanced at Xie Er, unsure where to put the breakfast.

Lin Qian said to Bailangzai: "Take him to the cargo hold, light a candle, and as he finishes each map, bring it to me."

Bailangzai acknowledged the order and led Xie Er out.

The crewman set the breakfast on the round table, then handed the letter to Lin Qian: "Helmsman, this came early this morning from Shen'ao."

Lin Qian knew it was Huang Hetai's merit report before he even opened it.

After opening and reading it through, it was exactly as he expected—Huang Hetai, as a fifth-rank Garrison Commander, still had some skill; the merit report was written without a single loophole.

Time, place, personnel, battle details, captive confessions, soldier testimonies—all of it was vivid and detailed.

As physical evidence, besides Li Kuiqi's head, there were also the severed heads of those one hundred pirates.

Lin Qian picked up his brush and changed the battle time on Huang Hetai's merit report to last night, thereby also covering up the matter of disguising Li Kuiqi's ship-seizing.

Salted heads couldn't stay fresh for long anyway; if they continued using Li Kuiqi's identity to commit crimes, the head would reveal the flaw.

But with Li Kuiqi handed over, there were still Zhang Kuiqi and Wang Kuiqi out at sea—the Fujian and Guangdong waters were full of sea bandits, no shortage of scapegoats.

Inside the envelope, besides the merit report, there was also a private letter, written by Huang Hetai alone to the Vice Regional Commander.

After all, Li Kuiqi had been sending protection money to the Vice Regional Commander every month; for him to die so inexplicably, Huang Hetai needed to explain it to him separately.

The letter used the clichéd excuse of infighting among sea bandits—no flaws to be found.

Lin Qian put the merit report and private letter back into the envelope and had someone return it to Huang Hetai.

"Wait."

The crew member was about to open the door and leave when Lin Qian called him back: "Tell the lookout leader to send that ghost-head saber to Shen'ao Harbor as well."

(End of Chapter)

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