Chapter 892: Controlling the High-Level, the Inner Ghost Network Spreads

When Zhang Wenqian came out of Chunman Lou, it wasn't dawn yet. Several Mingjing Si hidden agents followed three steps behind him, holding the ledgers thicker than bricks and the two folded contracts. Their footsteps stepped on the stone slab road surface of Xia Prefecture City in the early morning, which was still covered with thin frost, and the broken ice was ground into fine powder by the soles of their boots.

The lights in the main hall of the Governor's Office had never been extinguished. Chen Yan sat behind the desk, the bowl of tea in his hand had been refilled three times, the tea leaves were soaked until they turned yellow, and there was no taste at all, yet he still poured it into his mouth mouthful by mouthful. His gaze fell on the few white chess pieces representing the Rouran Royal Court and the Turkic remnants on the sand table.

Zhang Wenqian spread the two signed and handprinted contracts flat on the desk, took out the two bronze contact tokens from his sleeve and placed them beside, and finally shook open the three-foot-long bill and spread it on the table surface.

"Pillar of State, it's all done."

Chen Yan put down the tea bowl, his fingers first touching the ink on the two contracts that hadn't completely dried, his fingertips brushing over Wurigen's crooked signature, then moving to the handprint of Ashina Mukan that penetrated the paper, stopping for the effort of two breaths.

"Was Ashina willing to sign it himself or was he forced to sign it?"

Zhang Wenqian stood straight in front of the desk, the corners of his mouth carrying a trace of pride that couldn't be cleaned away.

"Reporting to the Pillar of State, the subordinate brought up the old events of the Battle of Jinshan and the topic of revenge. Ashina's hand reached out by itself, much more straightforward than Wurigen."

Chen Yan picked up the contracts and looked at them against the light. The cinnabar handprints on them were dazzlingly red under the light.

"Hatred is more useful than greed. Greedy people forget fear once given money, but people who hold grudges don't need you to feed them; they will go and bite themselves."

He folded the contracts, took out an iron box from the secret drawer at the corner of the desk, and stuffed the two contracts into it. The sound of the lock on the iron box closing made a clicking sound in the quiet main hall.

"What about Wurigen?"

Zhang Wenqian's lips moved, as if picking words.

"Wurigen was roasted on the fire. When the subordinate brought out the letter, his face had already lost its blood color, and his hand was shaking so much that he could barely hold the pen when signing."

Chen Yan stood up from the chair, walked to the sand table, and tapped on the edge of the wooden frame with his fingers twice.

"People who are afraid of death are more obedient than people who hold grudges, but they are also more prone to accidents. Are you sure he can hold up if he is questioned about his itinerary by Wen Ge Ti after returning?"

Zhang Wenqian took out something else from his bosom, a piece of silk the size of a palm, with lines of dense small characters written in fly-head regular script on it.

"Pillar of State, rest assured. The subordinate compiled a complete set of rhetoric for him. Every day's itinerary from departure to doing business at the trade fair to the return journey matches. All the hidden agents of the Mingjing Si on the route have been greeted. As long as Wurigen speaks according to the words on this, no one will be able to find any flaws."

Chen Yan scanned the silk piece once, nodded, and threw the silk piece into the fire basin. The edges of the silk piece curled up and emitted a creaking sound, soon turning into black ash.

"How are the contact secret paths arranged?"

Zhang Wenqian walked to the sand table, his fingers pointing at the eastern part of the grasslands and the southwest direction respectively.

"The subordinate arranged two lines that do not cross. Wurigen takes the east line. The contact person is Ahada, an old cloth merchant of the Mingjing Si in the territory of the White Wolf Tribe. They meet at the trading point on the pasture thirty li outside the White Wolf Tribe camp on the fifth day of each month. Wurigen hides the intelligence in the interlayer of the cloth and hands it to Ahada."

His finger moved to the southwest direction.

"Ashina takes the west line. The contact person is a Qi State merchant selling ironware in the territory of the Turkic remnants. That is actually a long-line hidden agent buried by the Mingjing Si three years ago. They meet at the supply point of the Turkic remnants on the fifteenth day of each month."

Chen Yan's gaze swept back and forth between those two lines on the sand table once.

"If one of the two lines is broken, can the other one top it?"

Zhang Wenqian shook his head.

"No. The two lines are completely isolated. Wurigen doesn't know who Ashina's contact person is, and Ashina doesn't know which road Wurigen takes to send news. If any one is broken, the other is not affected."

Chen Yan's palm slapped on the wooden frame of the sand table, lightly.

"Good, just do it according to this."

He turned and walked back behind the desk, took out two iron plaques the size of a palm from the secret drawer. The front of the iron plaque was engraved with an inconspicuous caravan pattern, and the back was blank, which could only be seen by soaking in a special medicinal liquid to see the dark pattern underneath.

"Before these two plaques are sent out, have the Mingjing Si craftsmen engrave a serial number on the back of each, corresponding to the contract. In the future, when receiving intelligence, verify the plaque first before receiving the goods. If the plaque doesn't match, do not accept it."

Zhang Wenqian reached out and took the two iron plaques, flipped them over, and looked at the blank back.

"Pillar of State, Wurigen and Ashina will leave the city tomorrow. The subordinate arranged hidden agents at the city gate to see them off, and will return to report after confirming that they have stepped onto the official road."

Chen Yan didn't pick up this sentence. His fingers drew a line on that three-foot-long bill on the desk, his fingernails scraping on the paper surface and emitting a fine sand sound.

"Keep this bill."

Zhang Wenqian was stunned for a moment.

"Pillar of State, this account has already been offset by the contract. What is the use of keeping it?"

Chen Yan's fingers lifted from the cinnabar number at the tail of the bill, the corners of his mouth pulling an extremely shallow arc to the side.

"What was offset was the money they owed Da Zhou, not the lives they owed this Duke."

He folded the bill and stuffed it into the deepest corner of the secret drawer, side by side with that iron box.

"When these two people dare not listen, this bill will appear on Wen Ge Ti's desk. It doesn't just write how much money they spent, but also how many women they hugged, how much wine they drank, how much silver they gambled, and how many mansions they bought in Da Zhou's brothels."

Zhang Wenqian rubbed his palms twice, the scent of grease and powder brought from Chunman Lou crushed in his palms.

"This move of the Pillar of State, the subordinate has learned."

Chen Yan closed the secret drawer and fastened the iron buckle.

"The part you can't learn is the key."

He walked to the sand table, picked up a sharpened charcoal pen from the small grid on the edge of the wooden frame, bent down, and drew a small black circle next to the white chess piece representing the Rouran Royal Court on the sand table, and also drew one next to the white chess piece representing the Turkic remnants.

Then he pulled the two white chess pieces from the sand table, dipped a little black ink from the pigment dish beside him, and applied a layer to the bottom of the chess pieces. He held them up and looked at them. The black ink seeped from the bottom of the chess pieces upward, dyeing the originally clean white paint with a jagged black edge.

"From today on, these two chess pieces are no longer white."

Chen Yan inserted the chess pieces with black bottoms back into the hinterland of the Rouran Royal Court and the Turkic remnants on the sand table, pressed them hard, and the tips of the chess pieces sank deep into the sand and soil.

"Zhang Wenqian."

"Subordinate is present."

Chen Yan straightened his waist, both hands behind his back, his gaze slowly sweeping across the vast area representing the grasslands on the sand table, finally landing on the position representing Wen Ge Ti's Royal Court in the center.

"From today on, for every military order transmission route, every general's transfer destination, and every batch of grain and grass hoarding location in Wen Ge Ti's Royal Court, this Duke wants to know three days in advance."

Zhang Wenqian tucked the two iron plaques into the secret pocket close to his body in his sleeve, his voice carrying a sharpness pressed to the lowest level.

"Subordinate guarantees that as long as Wurigen and Ashina's news doesn't break, the things the Pillar of State wants will not be missing a single bit."

Chen Yan turned around to look at him. The light from the fire basin hit his face from the side, making his half-profile bright and dark.

"You just said Wurigen is afraid of death. This Duke tells you, people who are afraid of death have one advantage."

Zhang Wenqian waited for him to continue.

"People who are afraid of death, in order to save their lives, will sell everything they can sell clean. Wurigen is the son of the Right Wise King. The things he can come into contact with are ten times more than Ashina—the Royal Court's troop deployment map, the details of taxes paid by various tribes to the Royal Court, and the private dealings between those generals around Wen Ge Ti."

Chen Yan's index finger drew a circle in the air.

"These things added together are worth more than ten thousand warhorses."

Zhang Wenqian withdrew his hand from his sleeve, hanging by his side, his ten fingers clenching unconsciously.

"Pillar of State, the subordinate has one more thing to report."

Chen Yan walked back behind the desk and sat down, his elbows resting on the desk surface, his chin resting on his crossed fingers.

"Speak."

"Wurigen leaked a few sentences about the inside of the Royal Court after getting drunk. The subordinate didn't interrupt him at the time and let him continue for a quarter of an hour."

Zhang Wenqian took out a piece of paper the size of a palm from his bosom, with a few lines of characters scribbled in charcoal.

"He said that the general named Batu beside Wen Ge Ti had an old grudge with the Right Wise King. Three years ago, when allocating pastures, Batu snatched a piece of fertile land under the Right Wise King's name. The Right Wise King went to Wen Ge Ti to complain, but Wen Ge Ti suppressed it and didn't care. Since then, the Right Wise King and Batu have broken off contact."

Chen Yan's fingers rubbed on his chin twice.

"What about Batu and Wen Ge Ti?"

Zhang Wenqian glanced at the paper.

"Wurigen said Batu is loyal to Wen Ge Ti, but the loyalty has a limit. A few years ago, Wen Ge Ti wanted to send Batu's eldest son to the Turkic front line as a hostage. Batu resisted for three days before agreeing. Since then, although his work hasn't changed, he doesn't go to the Royal Tent to drink much in private."

Chen Yan took his hand off his chin and tapped it lightly on the desk.

"Write it down. This line might be useful in the future."

He stood up, walked to the door of the main hall, lifted the curtain, and looked out. It was already bright. A layer of white frost hung on the old locust tree in the Governor's Office courtyard, and the branches swayed lightly in the morning wind.

"Zhang Wenqian, this Duke asks you a question."

Zhang Wenqian followed to a position two steps behind him.

"Pillar of State, please ask."

Chen Yan put down the curtain and turned around. The hem of his cloak swept an arc in the action of turning.

"What do you think Wen Ge Ti is most afraid of now?"

Zhang Wenqian thought for the time of two breaths.

"Afraid of internal rebellion, afraid that the subordinate tribes underneath will run away and he will have no one to use."

Chen Yan shook his head.

"What he is most afraid of is not these. What he is most afraid of is that he doesn't know where the threat comes from."

His hand withdrew from the curtain, his fingers rubbing in his sleeves.

"Wen Ge Ti is an old hunter. Old hunters are not afraid of wild boars rushing over from the front; they are afraid of invisible things biting behind their necks. By the time he notices the pain, his throat has already been bitten through."

Chen Yan walked back to the front of the sand table, flicked his fingers on the two chess pieces with black bottoms, causing the chess pieces to sway, but they didn't fall.

"Wurigen and Ashina are the things biting behind his neck. He can't see them, can't touch them, but the blood has been flowing out."

Zhang Wenqian stood straight by the desk, the paper with Batu's information in his hand wrinkled at the corners.

"Pillar of State, the subordinate has one last thing."

Chen Yan's gaze lifted from the sand table.

"Wurigen asked the subordinate a question before leaving. He asked when Da Zhou would fight Rouran."

The corners of Chen Yan's mouth twitched upward, not counting as a smile, more like an instinctive reaction of the muscles.

"How did you answer him?"

Zhang Wenqian tucked the paper back into his bosom, his voice carrying a sharpness remaining from the play at Chunman Lou.

"Subordinate said, Da Zhou does not fight Rouran; Da Zhou only does business."

Chen Yan turned and walked toward the secret chamber behind the main hall, turning back after three steps.

"Answered well. In the future, just say this sentence to them. Da Zhou will never fight Rouran."

His figure disappeared behind the curtain of the secret chamber, and his voice drifted from behind the curtain, carrying a low, dry tone baked by the fire basin.

"Whether to fight or not, wait until this Duke is ready to decide. Before that, let Wen Ge Ti rest assured and be his Khan."

Zhang Wenqian stood in the main hall for two breaths, tugged at the collar of the dark purple Shu brocade long robe on his body, turned, and walked toward the door. His boots stepped over the blue stone slab in front of the desk that had been baked dry by the fire basin, every step firm.

The morning wind in the courtyard rolled his robe corners. When he walked under the old locust tree, he reached out and picked a leaf covered with frost from the low branch, ground it between his fingers, crushed it, and threw it on the ground.

The gate of the Governor's Office closed slowly behind him, the sound of the door shaft turning muffled and long, cutting the first ray of sunlight passing through the eaves in the morning into a thin line.

And in the private room on the third floor of Chunman Lou, which was in a mess, Wurigen sat by the window. The sky outside had just brightened. On the streets of Xia Prefecture City, early vendors began to push carts and shout, and the fragrance of steaming cakes drifted up from the bottom of the building.

His fingers gripped the cold bronze plaque under his inner clothing. The edge of the bronze plaque pressed against his ribs, hurting.

When Ashina came over from the next room, he was still wrapped in a wrinkled silk robe. His complexion was gray and defeated like frozen soil that hadn't seen the sun for three days. He sat down opposite Wurigen, pulled the bronze plaque he had from his collar to look at it, and stuffed it back in.

"Leave the city tomorrow?"

Wurigen didn't look back at him, his gaze still nailed to the street outside the window.

"Leave the city tomorrow."

Ashina supported both hands on his knees, his finger joints protruding because of the force, and fragments of flower petals stained when soaking in the hot spring last night remained between his fingers.

"After going back, how do you plan to explain this month to your uncle?"

Wurigen finally turned his head. On that face soaked by wine and color for a month, he couldn't squeeze out any arrogance belonging to the Rouran nobles. What remained was only a layer of gray that was thin to the point of transparency.

"Zhang Wenqian gave me a set of rhetoric. Just memorize it and speak according to it."

Ashina stared at his eyes for three breaths.

"Do you believe him?"

The corners of Wurigen's mouth pulled down a section, that arc uglier than crying.

"What's the difference between believing or not? Signed, pressed, he holds my life root in his hand. Besides believing him, who else can I believe?"

Ashina stood up from the chair, walked to the window, his shoulders leaning against Wurigen's shoulders. The two looked side by side at the long street of Xia Prefecture City outside the window, which was so prosperous that it made one's chest feel blocked.

"Wurigen, I will tell you one thing."

Wurigen turned his face to look at him.

Ashina's voice was crushed into residue, carrying a dryness cracked by the cold wind when it leaked from between his teeth.

"That sentence Zhang Wenqian said, about revenge, I believe it."

Wurigen's eyeballs stopped on his face for two rounds.

Ashina turned and walked toward the door, stopping a step before the curtain without looking back.

"The blood debt Wen Ge Ti owes me will sooner or later be paid with his own blood. Da Zhou is willing to lend me a blade to use, so I will borrow it. We will talk about the future after using it."

The curtain swayed twice behind him, and the footsteps moved away along the corridor.

Wurigen sat alone by the window, his fingers still gripping the bronze plaque on his chest, gripping until his joints turned white, his palms sweating stickily.

The Xia Prefecture City outside the window became noisy in the morning light, but those lively scenes had nothing to do with him anymore. ===== CHAPTER 893 =====