Hongzhi Year 18, Twenty-Eighth Day of the First Month.
Jiang Bin followed us all day.
He didn't speak much, just followed, watching us check ledgers, ask questions, rummage through medicines. But his presence was too strong—not that "I am important" kind of strong, but a "don't mess with me" kind of strong. Wherever we went, people automatically made way, like leaves swept by the wind.
"What did you do before?" Zhu Houzhao asked him.
"Border army." Jiang Bin said, tone plain like talking about the weather today. "Got into trouble, ran out."
"What trouble?"
"Beating people."
When he said these two words, he didn't even move his eyebrows.
We investigated in the east city all day, the trail broke again. That "big official surnamed Wang" the thin-faced man mentioned, asked around, no one knew. Chen Zhonghe from Henghe Hall was already scared out of his wits, answered whatever was asked, but where the upper source was, he couldn't say clearly either.
"Need to find a middleman." Jiang Bin suddenly spoke.
Zhu Houzhao looked at him.
"This kind of business, the people at the top won't show themselves directly. There must be someone in the middle passing words, handling it." Jiang Bin took the stick off his shoulder, tapped it on the ground. "Find this person, can trace upwards."
"You know who?" I asked.
Jiang Bin shook his head. "But I know who can find."
He took us to a teahouse on the west side of the city.
The place wasn't big, hidden deep in a narrow alley, not even a sign at the door. Pushing the door open, inside was actually spacious—several tables, several chairs, a few people sitting in the corner, seeing us come in, looked up and glanced, then lowered their voices to drink tea.
Jiang Bin walked straight to the counter, knocked on the desktop.
"Find Qian Ning."
The伙计 (shop assistant) behind the counter sized him up. "Master Qian doesn't come often—"
"Tell him, Jiang Bin is looking for him."
The assistant hesitated for a moment, turned and went into the back room.
After a while, the back room curtain lifted.
A person walked out.
Qian Ning.
He was completely different from Jiang Bin. Moon-white long gown, material top-grade, but color plain, not flamboyant. Hair combed neatly, tied with a white jade hairpin. A smile hung on his face—not that polite smile, but a kind of "I know everything, but I won't say" smile.
He wasn't old, under thirty, but those eyes when looking at people had an indescribable shrewdness. Like a person standing in the dark for too long, used to watching people come and go, nothing could hide from him.
"Jiang Bin," he spoke, voice neither high nor low, carrying a bit of laziness. "You caused trouble again?"
"No." Jiang Bin said. "Looking for you to help with something."
Qian Ning's gaze shifted to Zhu Houzhao. Stopped for just an instant—very short, but I saw it. His pupils contracted slightly, then returned to normal.
Then he looked at me. Gaze lingered on me for an instant, the corner of his mouth's smile deepened a bit.
"You few don't look like you're here to drink tea." he said.
Zhu Houzhao didn't speak. Jiang Bin didn't make a sound either.
Qian Ning smiled, turned sideways and made a please gesture. "Sit inside."
The back room was much more spacious than the front. A large table, several chairs, a painting hanging on the wall—painting of a cat, squatting in the corner, half-squinting eyes, like looking at something, or like looking at nothing.
Qian Ning sat down, poured tea for everyone.
"Speak, what is it."
"The medicine matter." Zhu Houzhao said.
Qian Ning's hand holding the teacup paused slightly—very light, like ripples on water caused by wind.
"What medicine?"
"That batch of fake medicine from the Ministry of War. Astragalus, Atractylodes, Angelica. Handled by Henghe Hall. Source is in the Ministry of War." Zhu Houzhao looked at him. "You know."
Not a question, a statement.
Qian Ning laughed. Put down the teacup, leaned back against the chair.
"I know a lot of things." he said. "But telling them, what benefit is it to me?"
"What do you want?" Zhu Houzhao asked.
Qian Ning looked at him, something more in his gaze—not calculation, but scrutiny. Like a person weighing the weight of an object.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"Zhu Shou."
"Fake name." Qian Ning said, mouth corner still smiling, but eyes not smiling.
Zhu Houzhao didn't speak. Jiang Bin's hand pressed onto the stick.
Qian Ning saw it, but wasn't flustered. He picked up the teacup, slowly sipped a mouthful.
"Don't be nervous," he said. "I'm just asking casually. If you don't want to say, then don't."
He put down the teacup, turned to me.
"You are the most dangerous among them."
I paused. "Why?"
"They use hands, you use brain." Qian Ning's mouth corner twitched up. "Moreover, they listen to you."
Zhu Houzhao looked at me, didn't deny.
Qian Ning smiled, took a piece of paper from his sleeve, pushed it to the middle of the table.
"The Ministry of War side, the person handling it is called Wang De. Is a distant cousin of Minister of War Wang Chang. He holds a sinecure in the Ministry of War, specially helping Wang Chang manage these unseeable matters. The source of the fake medicine is at the border—border army change of guard, old medicine not returned to warehouse, directly sold to merchants, refurbished then sold back."
He looked at Zhu Houzhao.
"This batch of medicine has been going for three years. Not the first time something happened, just the first time someone investigated."
Zhu Houzhao picked up that paper, looked at it, folded it and tucked it into his sleeve.
"Why help us?" he asked.
Qian Ning smiled. "Because I also don't like the look of them."
This words were too light. I knew it wasn't true. But Zhu Houzhao didn't press, Jiang Bin didn't speak either.
"This matter," Qian Ning said. "You can't finish investigating."
"Why?"
"Because above there isn't just Wang Chang one person." He looked at Zhu Houzhao, eyes carrying an indescribable thing—not a warning, more like a weariness of seeing people crash into south walls too many times. "Ministry of War, Imperial Hospital, Ministry of Revenue, all have people. You dig out one, will pull out three. Dig out three, will bring out ten. By the end—"
He didn't finish.
Zhu Houzhao stood up.
"Then you come together." he said.
Qian Ning paused. That pause was very light, just eyelashes trembling slightly, but he did pause.
"What?"
"Investigate together." Zhu Houzhao said. "Didn't you say you also don't like the look of them?"
Qian Ning looked at him, silent for a long time. So long I thought he would refuse.
Then he laughed. Not that "I know everything" smile from before, but another kind—like a person standing in the dark for too long, suddenly someone pushes the door open, light shines in.
"Fine." he said.
Jiang Bin glanced at him. "If you play tricks—"
"You can't beat me." Qian Ning said indifferently.
Jiang Bin's hand tightened on the stick again.
"Alright, alright," I hurriedly spoke. "Can you two not make a move first?"
Both looked at me simultaneously.
"Didn't make a move." Jiang Bin said.
"Haven't made a move yet." Qian Ning added a sentence.
I took a deep breath. Fine then. Anyway days to come are long, plenty of time to fight.
Zhu Houzhao walked to the door, stopped, turned back to look.
"Tomorrow, East City Great Camp. Chen hour (7-9 am)."
Jiang Bin nodded. Qian Ning leaned against the chair back, holding the teacup, smiling and nodding.
We walked out of the teahouse. Sky was already dark, alley had no lamps, only distant market lights shining through, drawing several light and dark interlaced grids on the ground.
Zhu Houzhao walked in front. I followed behind.
"Do you think Qian Ning is trustworthy?" I asked.
"Not entirely." he said.
"Then why let him come along?"
He was silent for a moment.
"Because what he knows, is more than us."
I looked at his back. Moonlight fell on him, gray short jacket reflecting greenish-white light in the night.
"Moreover," he said. "What he said is right."
"What said right?"
"You use brain."
I paused. He didn't turn back, continued walking forward.
I followed behind, heart beating a bit fast.
Four people. One Crown Prince, one Jianghu martial man, one smiling tiger, one nurse.
This combination, no matter how you look at it, seems unreliable.
But seems—also fine.
(End of Chapter 17)