Chapter 19 : Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Wrong Cut

Luocheng’s winding streets and alleys were like the city’s palm lines.

The Liu family’s forces, chasing us, split into five groups, like a closing hand, squeezing the city’s air into a tense knot.

The Secret Spy Division darted through the shadows between buildings, with the Liu family—armed with spears and torches—hundreds of paces behind.

Jiaotu glanced back at me trailing the group, and asked Yunyang: “Do you believe him? If he doesn’t find evidence, we’ve missed our chance to escape Luocheng tonight.”

“We have to trust him,” Yunyang said gravely. “Without evidence, we won’t pass the Chief Punishment Division’s scrutiny.”

Jiaotu said casually: “The Inner Minister won’t really punish us. We’re still useful—worst case, we kill more for him.”

“The Inner Minister has good and bad men, but no fools. If we botch this, there’s no place for us in the Secret Spy Division… Maybe this kid can find something.”

Jiaotu said sternly: “Let’s hope. If he fails, we kill our way back to the capital and beg Bailong for mercy. We can’t fall into the Chief Punishment Division’s hands.”

She glanced back at me again.

I, panting at the group’s tail, my hair soaked with sweat, my face cloth drenched but unremoved.

“This kid’s got stamina,” Jiaotu praised. “He’s keeping up with the spies.”

Any Secret Spy Division operative would be elite in the “Ten Thousand Years Army.” No matter how ragged I looked, keeping pace was no small feat.

I felt my body changing. As exhaustion hit, the three furnaces in my dantian surged with warm currents, sustaining my run.

The furnaces washed through me like a flood, triggering a mysterious transformation.

It was as if a rusty sword was being polished clean.

Crossing Changning Street, the shouts behind grew closer. Yunyang said grimly: “The Liu family knows Luocheng better—they’re taking shortcuts to surround us. We’ll be caught if we keep running.”

“What do we do?” Jiaotu asked.

“Sacrifice the cart to save the king.”

Passing a small courtyard, Yunyang ordered: “Seven Ten-Thousands, take everyone and lead the Liu family west. It’s a big merit!”

The black-clad spy named Seven Ten-Thousands said lowly: “Yes, everyone, follow me!”

I stood by the courtyard wall, watching the spies’ backs vanish, silent. Yunyang and Jiaotu had climbed into the courtyard. Seeing me linger, they poked their heads over the gray tiles: “What’re you standing there for?!”

“Coming,” I said, jumping and grabbing Yunyang’s hand, scrambling over the wall.

The three of us pressed against the wall, holding our breath, listening to the chaos outside.

We heard hurried footsteps pass, someone saying, “They mustn’t escape Luocheng—we avenge Old Master Liu.”

So close, only a wall apart, I could smell the burning torches—cedar bark mixed with pine resin, dry and crackling.

The crowd chased after the spies, and when the street quieted, I dared breathe: “Will the spies survive?”

Yunyang glanced at me: “In chaotic times, fate decides life and death. You, them, Jiaotu, and I—when we were junior spies, we were abandoned countless times.”

Jiaotu said: “Stop talking. Move.”

We climbed out. The street was empty. Heading east, we stopped at the first crossroad.

Yunyang squinted at the bluestone road ahead, where dozens of Fish-Dragon Guards stood on horseback, waiting silently, as if they could always find their prey.

The Chief Punishment Division to the east, the Secret Spy Division to the west. We faced each other across the distance, silent in the shadows, waiting for the other to speak.

The guards, in raincoats and conical hats, hands on sword hilts, exuded mountainous pressure.

Lin Chaoqing urged his horse forward, approaching Yunyang.

His face hidden under his hat, he said: “We’re colleagues under the Ceremonial Directorate. We don’t want the Secret Spy Division crushed by literati. I let you go earlier to give you a chance. An hour’s passed—got evidence?”

Yunyang, grim and silent, couldn’t bluff anymore.

“No evidence, then,” Lin Chaoqing pressed his horse closer. “Seize them…”

He was cut off by distant commotion: “Liang Mao’er, where’re you dragging me? Yan’er’s waiting in Red Curtain!”

“Brother, the Liu family’s mad. We gotta kill the eunuch dogs, or your wine money and cultivation herbs are cut!”

“What?! Cut my wine money?”

“Brother, the herbs matter more!”

The Chief Punishment and Secret Spy Divisions turned left. A chubby young man was carrying a drunken middle-aged man.

The middle-aged man’s robe hung loosely, head lolling on the youth’s shoulder, hair disheveled, but his sword gleamed from constant polishing.

Seeing him, Lin Chaoqing reined in, and all the Fish-Dragon Guards halted.

Jiaotu whispered: “It’s Liang Gou’er.”

Everyone watched the odd pair in eerie silence as Liang Mao’er, cursing, approached.

Passing the crossroad, Liang Mao’er noticed the Chief Punishment and Secret Spy Divisions in the shadows, freezing, his fat trembling.

“Brother, wake up! I think I see them!” Liang Mao’er said.

Liang Gou’er, drunk, opened his eyes: “Found the eunuch dogs?”

Liang Mao’er, sweating, whispered: “Brother, they can hear…”

Liang Gou’er looked at Lin Chaoqing, seeing the neat raincoats and hats, and grinned: “All these raincoats and hats—eunuch dogs for sure! But we offend no one. Tell the Liu family I drew my sword…”

Instantly, still on Liang Mao’er’s back, he hooked his sword’s hilt with two fingers, flicking it.

Clang, the sword unsheathed.

A blazing arc slashed toward Lin Chaoqing. Before anyone reacted, it sheathed again.

Crack—Lin Chaoqing’s hat split, falling to reveal his chiseled face. The precise strike shattered the hat but left him unscathed.

The street fell silent, thoughts frozen by the scene.

Liang Mao’er glanced at the Chief Punishment Division, then the Secret Spy Division: “Brother, you cut the wrong guy…”

“Huh?” Liang Gou’er squinted at us, then at Lin Chaoqing.

Lin Chaoqing, unmoving on his horse, said coldly: “Liang Gou’er, open your dog eyes and see who I am.”

“Oh!”

Liang Gou’er leapt off, scrambling to Lin Chaoqing’s horse, fawning: “Commander Lin! Sorry, sorry. Blame the Liu family—I was drinking in Red Cloth Lane, and they dragged me to cut you!”

Lin Chaoqing whipped his shoulder: “I won’t trouble you today. Get lost.”

“Yes, yes, getting lost!” Liang Gou’er literally rolled aside.

Lin Chaoqing looked up.

By then, Yunyang, Jiaotu, and I had vanished from the street.

“Chase. They’re not far.”

The Fish-Dragon Guards galloped off. Liang Gou’er wobbled up, Liang Mao’er dusting him off: “Brother, why take their nonsense?”

Liang Gou’er, grinning, tied his hair back: “Mao’er, wasn’t I clever? Resolved a crisis!”

Liang Mao’er grumbled: “Not clever at all!”

“Done here—back to drinking!”

“I’m not drinking! You’ve had enough!”

Liang Gou’er: “Not enough… urp!”

…

…

“The Chief Punishment Division’s nose is too sharp—finding us everywhere,” Jiaotu complained.

Yunyang, carrying me on his shoulder, ran: “They call us the Inner Minister’s eagles; we’re eagles, they’re dogs. Their noses are famously sharp—they’d sniff us out at the ends of the earth.”

He coughed blood again.

Jiaotu, shocked: “You’re hurt? I’ll carry him.”

“Just a scratch from clashing with Lin Chaoqing,” Yunyang said. “He’s a man—why would you carry him? We’re here!”

At a sealed residence, Yunyang dropped me: “This is it. Move fast—the Chief Punishment Division’s coming!”

I tore off the seal, pushed open the vermilion gate, and hurried past the rock garden and fishpond: “Where’s the study?”

“Furthest in!”

Hoofbeats thundered in the distance, like drums!

I entered the study, pulling books from the shelf, glancing by moonlight and tossing them down, just like at Zhou’s residence!

Yunyang lit a candle with a fire stick, holding it by the shelf. He felt like my book boy and wanted to snap but held back with danger looming: “What’re you looking for? You’re like a headless fly!”

I said: “Sometimes, luck’s part of strength.”

As I spoke, hoofbeats stopped outside, raincoats rustling against saddles—the Chief Punishment Division was here!

Jiaotu’s face darkened, her lithe frame blocking the door, hand on her short sword.

Facing the charging Fish-Dragon Guards, she said: “The Secret Spy Division’s at a critical point in catching spies. One more step, and you die.”

Lin Chaoqing ignored her threat, advancing: “Kill in. Resisters die.”

A clash loomed. Jiaotu drew her sword, slicing her brow, a black mist seeming to emerge.

In the tense residence, Lin Chaoqing, sword at his waist, advanced, drawing it slowly, cold light gleaming from under his raincoat.

The burly man, like a tiger, fixed on the red wound on Jiaotu’s brow, where mysterious power seemed to surge.

Lin Chaoqing sneered: “I’m a fourth-rank Ning official. Don’t embarrass yourself with petty tricks.”

Jiaotu said calmly: “Try it and see.”

Then, my voice rang from inside: “Found it!”

I stepped out, holding a scroll.