Chapter 111

As dawn was just breaking, the familiar cries of hawkers selling mung-bean juice and fried dough twists rang out in the alley, piercing the morning mist and startling the sparrows on the eaves into frantic flight. Li Ping'an pushed open the wooden window, drew a deep breath of air tinged with coal smoke, and suddenly caught sight of a black cat on the opposite roof, its back arched warily as it stared at him.

Brother, what are you looking at?" Ping Le came over, rubbing her eyes, still holding the award-winning embroidery she'd won last night.

Li Ping'an withdrew his gaze, laughing as he ruffled her hair: "Just looking at a night cat—out in broad daylight and still not back in its den."

Ping Le followed his gaze, but the black cat had vanished in a flash. She pursed her lips: "Brother, why are you talking so strangely today?"

At breakfast, Li Ping'an seemed preoccupied. After gulping down his mung-bean juice in a few mouthfuls, he suddenly set down his bowl: "Le'er, from now on go straight home after school—don't loiter outside."

Ping Le blinked: "Why? Shifu Su said he'd take us today to see double-sided embroidery."

"Listen." Li Ping'an's tone was unusually stern; lately the streets haven't been peaceful.

On the way to take Ping Le to the embroidery workshop, Li Ping'an was especially vigilant. He noticed a new shoe-repair stall at the street corner; the vendor's hands were clean and soft, nothing like someone who does rough work year-round. There was also a candied hawthorn seller whose treats were almost melting yet he didn't sell them, his eyes constantly darting toward them.

"Brother, look—his candied hawthorns are practically syrup already; he really doesn't know how to do business." Ping Le muttered under her breath.

Li Ping'an's heart tightened, but he forced a smile: "Maybe the sugar was cooked wrong—he's embarrassed to sell it."

At the embroidery workshop's door, Su Shifu was already waiting. The old lady had specially donned a dark-green satin jacket, full of energy.

Ping'an, I happen to have something to ask you. Su Shifu pulled Li Ping'an aside, lowered his voice, yesterday a foreigner came to order embroidery, specifically requesting Pinglu embroidery.

Li Ping'an frowned: "A foreigner? What does he look like?"

About forty years old, with a Ren Dan moustache, his speech was polite but his gaze too frightening. Su Shifu gestured, saying he wanted to embroider a picture titled 'Fuji Mountain Cherry Blossom', generous, gave ten silver dollars as deposit.

Li Ping'an's heart sank: "You agreed?"

Not possible! Su Shifu glared, "Old woman I may have dim eyes, but I can still tell good from bad." Just said Pinglu embroidery skill not enough, so I turned him down.

Li Ping'an somewhat relieved: "Thanks, Master. If anyone like that comes again, just report to the authorities."

Leaving the embroidery workshop, Li Ping'an pedaled his rickshaw around the street. Sure enough, after just two intersections, he noticed someone tailing him—the cobbler.

He deliberately went into crowded places, winding seven turns and eight bends into Tianqiao Market. He stopped at the candy stall of Old Sun Tou and ordered a Sun Wukong figure.

Old Sun, have you seen Li San lately? he asked, pulling out money while speaking softly.

Old Sun Tou chuckled while shaping the sugar figurine: "Third Master sent word, saying the swallow's nest was taken over; we need to move and rebuild it."

Li Ping'an understood. It seems Shanben Ichiro has already started acting, even forcing Li San to relocate.

When he finished his shift and returned home in the afternoon, he found an old man selling roasted sweet potatoes squatting at the doorway. Seeing him, the old man hurriedly rose and shouted: "Roasted sweet potatoes—fragrant and sweet roasted sweet potatoes—"

Li Ping'an caught sight of mud on the man's shoe uppers—red soil unique to the Huangnitang outskirts. What would a sweet‑potato seller be doing there?

At night, after Pinglu fell asleep, Li Ping'an changed into his night cloak. Tonight he intends to meet that cobbler.

After the cobbler's stall closed, the cobbler turned into a dead‑end alley. Li Ping'an followed silently like a night owl.

He saw the man walk to the alley's end, tap three times lightly on the wall. A secret door opened, light spilling from within.

Li Ping'an seized the moment, slipped inside, and hid above the beams. Below was a secret room where Shanben Ichiro was giving a lecture.

... We must find those artifacts! Especially that Shang dynasty bronze tripod—superiors are personally involved... Shanben Ichiro had his back to the door, his tone grim.

But sir, Yanzi Li San's whereabouts are uncertain... a subordinate said timidly.

Trash! Shanben Ichiro whirled around, "It's not Li San! It's the one who can use the Wind‑Cleaving Eight Blades—the heir of the Cangzhou Li family!"

Li Ping'an's heart jolted. It turned out Shanben Ichiro had long known his origins!

But there are so many Lis in Beiping... another subordinate muttered.

Idiot! Shanben Ichiro backhanded a slap, "Who else besides the Li family could pull off the full Wind‑Cleaving Eight Blades? Investigate! Find out everything about every Li who came from Cangzhou!"

Li Ping'an quietly withdrew from the secret room, his heart in turmoil. He never expected his family's sword art would instead expose his identity.

The next day, Li Ping'an claimed his cart's axle was broken and didn't go out. He stayed home keeping Pinglu company while she embroidered, actually covertly watching the street.

Sure enough, before noon two household‑registration police arrived. The leader was still an acquaintance—Sun Kezhang.

"Li Ping'an, I heard your cart broke?" Sun Kezhang asked with a squinting smile, his eyes glancing inside.

"That's right, I was just about to find someone to fix it." Li Ping'an blocked the doorway, "Why are you personally doing the household check today, Chief Sun?"

"Alas, orders from above—I have no choice." Sun Kezhang handed over the register; just sign here.

As Li Ping'an signed, he noticed Sun Kezhang's finger lightly tapping a column. His heart stirred; he looked up and saw Sun Kezhang give him a look.

After seeing the police off, Li Ping'an found a small paper wad glued beneath the signature page. Unfolding it, it read only three words: "Cangzhou Li".

Indeed, they were after him!

At dusk, Li Ping'an went to Tianqiao. Before Old Sun Tou's candy stall he whispered, "Tell Third Master, the swallow is returning to its nest."

Old Sun Tou's hand paused; sugar syrup dripped onto the stove, sending up a wisp of green smoke: "There's a hawk by the nest—be careful."

Li Ping'an nodded, about to leave, when suddenly he heard Pinglu's startled cry from behind. He whipped around to see Pinglu being hassled by a kite‑selling vendor.

"Little sister, buy a kite—it can fly really high!" The vendor grabbed Pinglu's sleeve and wouldn't let go.

Li Ping'an lunged forward, seized the vendor's wrist: "Let go."

The vendor winced, released his grip, but his eyes flashed with slyness: "Sir, want to buy a kite? It can carry a person up to the heavens!"

Li Ping'an's heart rang with alarm; he grabbed Pinglu and left. After walking a good distance, Pinglu whispered, "Brother, that man had calluses on his hand—he's used to handling guns."

Li Ping'an stared at his sister in surprise. Pinglu lifted her head proudly: "As Master Su said, embroiderers are best at reading hands. The calluses on that man's tiger mouth and index finger are exactly like those of the police."

Night fell; Li Ping'an settled Pinglu, then donned his night cloak again. Tonight he will take the initiative.

Following Sun Kezhang's hint, he located a Japanese spy outpost—a seemingly ordinary silk shop. Sure enough, late at night, Shanben Ichiro's car pulled up at the back door.

Li Ping'an slipped in like a civet cat, hearing Shanben Ichiro losing his temper.

... A bunch of trash! Can't even find a single person! Starting tomorrow, we'll search house by house! We'll say we're looking for communists!

But sir, doing that will scare the snake in the grass...

Damn it! Shanben Ichiro smashed his teacup, "We must find those artifacts before they're moved out, or we're all doomed!"

Li Ping'an snorted coldly, about to retreat, when he heard Shanben Ichiro say, "Go arrest that old embroideress! She surely knows where the Li brat is!"

Li Ping'an's eyes hardened. "You can move him, but not his sister or master!"

He silently withdrew to the opposite side of the street, found a high point. As Shanben Ichiro's convoy set off, several stones whistled through the air.

Several sounds, the car tires all burst. Shanben Yilang scrambled out of the car door, panicked and shouting: "An ambush!"

Taking advantage of the chaos, Li Ping'an shot past the rooftops like a wisp of green smoke, racing toward the embroidery workshop.

Tonight, he will make Shanben Yilang know that some swallows are not to be provoked.