Chapter 383: A Letter Hidden in the Fish

The surface of the Eternal Stability River was eerily calm.

Li Ping'an held a bamboo rod, the float motionless on the water.

But his Divine Perception spread like a spiderweb, covering a radius of a hundred meters.

Under the willow on the left, the "fishing buddy" wearing a straw hat was still there, today he'd switched to a gray cap.

Behind the slope on the right, an old woman digging wild vegetables had appeared; her basket held pitifully few greens, but her eyes kept glancing this way.

On the distant riverbank, two men in work clothes were smoking, the glow of their cigarette ends pulsing in a rhythm—three short, one long—like some kind of signal.

The shopkeeper's people.

And there were more of them than before.

Li Ping'an's mouth twitched slightly.

Looks like last night's ruckus kicked a hornet's nest.

The shopkeeper's in a panic, he's sent out everyone he can mobilize.

Interesting.

He picked up his fishing rod and changed the bait.

His movements were slow and leisurely, like a true idler.

But his mind was calculating.

These observers included the shopkeeper's people, and possibly also Zhou Zhengwei's people.

The two soldiers he'd run into last night didn't show up today.

But Li Ping'an could feel that farther off, a pair of eyes was watching this place.

Not surveillance, but observation.

Zhou Zhengwei was waiting for him.

Waiting for him to deliver what he'd found.

But how to send it?

Go straight to that bungalow?

Too risky.

The shopkeeper's people are surely watching Zhou Zhengwei's side too.

Use the old secret-letter channel?

The hidden compartment in the Earth God's Shrine on Vessel Street probably isn't safe either.

Li Ping'an's gaze fell on the fish basket.

A few small carp flopped at the basket's bottom, kicking up tiny splashes.

He suddenly had an idea.

At noon.

Li Ping'an reeled in his rod, picked up the half‑empty fish basket, and headed back.

His steps were neither hurried nor slow.

But his Divine Perception kept watch on the "tail" behind him.

The vegetable‑digging old woman carried her basket, trailing far behind.

The two smokers stubbed out their cigarettes and moved to flank him, one left, one right.

The straw‑hat‑wearing fishing buddy also packed up his gear, keeping his distance as he followed.

Surrounded on all sides.

Li Ping'an smirked inwardly.

Is the shopkeeper about to make a move?

In broad daylight, daring to snatch someone in the city?

He didn't break stride, turning into an alley.

The alley was narrow, high walls on both sides.

Good for an ambush, and also…… a counter‑kill.

Li Ping'an set down the fish basket and flexed his wrist.

Come on.

Perfect for trying out the fist intent he'd grasped last night.

Footsteps echoed from both ends of the alley.

Hasty, heavy.

Four, six, eight……

Exactly ten people.

Five in front, five behind, cutting off retreat.

Leading them was a dark‑faced man with bulging temples—clearly a master of external martial arts.

"Li Ping'an?" the dark‑faced man said, his voice hoarse.

"It's me." Li Ping'an turned, his expression calm.

"Come with us for a bit." The dark‑faced man flashed a certificate stamped with a red seal. "There's a case we need your help investigating."

The certificate was genuine.

The department was real.

But the people were fake.

Li Ping'an recognized the department's insignia—it was one of the key divisions controlled by the shopkeeper.

"What case?" he asked.

"You'll know when we get there." The black-faced man waved his hand, "Take him away!"

The people in front and back approached simultaneously.

Li Ping'an smiled.

"What if I don't go?"

"Then don't blame us for being impolite." The black-faced man's eyes turned cold, "Attack!"

Ten people lunged at him simultaneously.

Fist winds howled, leg shadows whipped like whips.

They were all trained fighters, and they coordinated seamlessly.

Li Ping'an did not retreat but advanced.

Baji Quan's "Opening Cannon" erupted with a boom.

The man at the forefront raised his arms to block, but with a crack his arm bones broke, and he screamed as he flew backward.

Tai Chi's "Cloud Hand" followed closely, its soft force pulling, and the two attackers collided head‑to‑head, seeing stars.

The Carefree Step unfolded, his form flitting like a ghost through the crowd.

Wherever he passed, someone fell to the ground.

Sometimes an elbow strike to the ribs, sometimes a finger to a pressure point, sometimes a shoulder bump to the chest.

He did not kill, but instantly robbed his opponents of their fighting ability.

The black‑faced man's expression changed.

He knew Li Ping'an could fight, but he hadn't expected him to be this formidable.

Ten skilled fighters couldn't last three rounds against him.

"Use weapons!" he shouted harshly.

The remaining men pulled out short sticks and iron rulers.

Some even reached for their waist—there was a bulge, possibly a knife.

Li Ping'an's gaze narrowed.

He could no longer hold back.

He drew a deep breath, and his fist intent surged suddenly.

The hardness of Baji Quan and the suppleness of Tai Chi merged into one at that moment.

His body moved like a dragon, his fists fired like cannons.

Boom boom boom!

Three more went down.

The black‑faced man gritted his teeth and lunged himself.

He practiced Iron Sand Palm; his palms were black as iron, reeking with a fishy wind as they slapped toward Li Ping'an's face.

Li Ping'an did not dodge or evade, meeting him with a fist.

Fist met palm.

Crack!

The black‑faced man screamed, all five fingers of his right hand broken, hanging limp.

"You…" fear flashed in his eyes.

Li Ping'an did not stop; he kicked the man in the abdomen.

The black‑faced man flew like a torn sack, hit the wall, slid to the ground, and passed out.

The two remaining men exchanged a glance and turned to run.

Li Ping'an did not chase.

He looked at the wounded scattered on the ground, his brows slightly furrowed.

The shopkeeper dared to openly seize him in the city.

What does that indicate?

It shows the shopkeeper is desperate, possibly even… preparing to break all pretenses.

He bent down and picked up the fish basket.

The fish inside were still flopping.

Carrying the basket, he walked out of the alley.

At the alley entrance, the old woman who had been digging wild vegetables was already gone.

On the distant riverbank, the man who had been smoking had also vanished.

They all ran away.

They went back to report the news.

Li Ping'an pushed his bicycle, walking slowly toward home.

But his mind was quickly calculating.

The shopkeeper's counterattack came faster than he expected, and was harsher.

Next, there would likely be even more intense actions.

He had to get the list out as soon as possible.

Back home, it was already afternoon.

Lin Xueqing saw him and let out a sigh of relief.

"Why so late?"

"I caught a few fish, sorry for the delay," Li Ping'an handed the fish basket to her, "We'll stew them into soup tonight."

Lin Xueqing took the fish basket, saw the few crucian carps inside, and was momentarily stunned.

The fish were all small; even the largest was only about the length of a palm.

But she said nothing, lifted it and went to the kitchen.

Li Ping'an returned to the main hall and closed the door.

He took paper and pen from the Spiritual Spring Space.

It wasn't special paper, but ordinary stationery.

He used that self‑created cipher to quickly write down thirty‑seven names.

After each name, he noted the position and possible contact method.

When finished, he folded it neatly; it was only the size of a matchbox.

Then, he selected the largest crucian carp from the fish basket.

His finger made a light slash across the fish's belly.

The carp struggled once, then went still.

Li Ping'an slipped the folded slip of paper into the fish's belly and sewed the wound shut with fine thread.

The stitches were fine; without close inspection, there was no visible flaw.

After completing all this, he placed the carp back into the fish basket.

Mixed together with the other few fish.

At dusk.

An old man selling tofu arrived at Hu Tong Kou.

He pushed a unicycle cart, with two slabs of tofu on it, covered by a white cloth.

"Tofu—fresh tofu—"

The vendor's call rang out long.

Li Ping'an stepped out of the courtyard, carrying an enamel basin in his hand.

"Sir, two pieces, please."

"Alright." The old man lifted the white cloth, cut two pieces of tofu, and placed them into the basin.

Li Ping'an paid, turned to leave.

Then he looked back.

"By the way, sir, I have a few fish I caught myself, can't finish them. Would you take two home?"

The old man was momentarily stunned, then smiled.

"How could I be so forward."

"No problem, we're all neighbors." Li Ping'an handed over the fish basket.

The old man took the fish basket and looked at the fish inside.

"Hey, this carp is good." He selected two, one of which was the largest one.

"Thanks, comrade."

"You're welcome."

The old man placed the fish into the bamboo basket beneath the unicycle cart and pushed the cart away.

The vendor's call faded as he walked away.

"Tofu—fresh tofu—"

Li Ping'an carried the tofu basin back into the courtyard.

Lin Xueqing was cooking and found it odd to see him bring back the tofu.

"Aren't you the one who doesn't like tofu?"

"I suddenly feel like eating it today." Li Ping'an handed the basin to her, "Add some to the fish soup."

Lin Xueqing took the basin and didn't ask further.

She always felt that her husband was a bit strange today.

But she couldn't pinpoint exactly what was odd.

Night fell.

That tofu‑selling unicycle cart stopped outside an inconspicuous courtyard in West City.

The old man knocked on the door.

Three long, two short.

The door opened.

The old man pushed the cart inside.

In the courtyard, Zhou Zhengwei, wearing a military coat, was pacing.

"How's it going?"

"Got it." The old man took the carp out of the bamboo basket.

Zhou Zhengwei took the fish, his finger brushed the fish's belly and felt the fine stitching.

His gaze tightened.

He slit the fish's belly with a small knife.

The slip of paper fell out.

He unfolded it.

Seeing those cipher symbols, Zhou Zhengwei's hand trembled slightly.

He quickly took out the Code Book and compared the translation.

For each name he translated, his face grew a bit uglier.

Thirty-seven names had been translated.

He remained silent for a long time.

"Well, what a shopkeeper... well, what a network..."

In his voice, there was anger, and also lingering fear.

If it weren't for Li Ping'an obtaining this list, the consequences would be unthinkable.

"Political Commissar, what should we do now?" the old man asked.

Zhou Zhengwei put away the slip of paper, a flash of resolve in his eyes.

"Follow the plan. Everyone on the list is to be secretly monitored. But don't startle the snake."

He paused.

"The shopkeeper's side will make a move tonight. Tell Old Zhao and the others to prepare to close the net."

"Yes."

The old man turned to leave.

"Wait." Zhou Zhengwei called him back.

"Li Ping'an's side... send someone to protect him covertly. The shopkeeper, driven to desperation, might strike at his family."

"Understood."

The old man left.

Zhou Zhengwei stood in the courtyard, gazing at the night sky.

Dark clouds covered the moon, the stars hid.

The wind fills the tower as the mountain rain approaches.

He knew, the final showdown was about to begin.

This list is a dagger aimed at the shopkeeper's heart.

But the shopkeeper will not sit and wait for death.

Tonight is destined to be a sleepless night.

And at this moment.

In the Siheyuan.

Li Ping'an was accompanying his son in learning characters.

"Dad, how do you read this character?"

"Danger." Li Ping'an pointed at the character in the textbook, "the 'danger' in 'dangerous'."

"What is danger?"

"It means... you might get hurt, something might happen." Li Ping'an rubbed his son's head, "so you must be careful in daily life."

Li Yaozong nodded, half-understanding.

Outside the window, the wind grew tighter.

The wind made the window lattice hum.

Li Ping'an lifted his head, gazing at the pitch-black night sky.

The fish had already been sent out.

Now it's up to Zhou Zhengwei.

And all he had to do was wait.

Wait for the wind.

Wait for the rain.

Wait for that final resolution.

The night was deep, impossible to dispel.