The afternoon sunlight slanted in through the crack of the door. Guichen Studio was very quiet, with only the faint sound of a pen rapidly writing across paper.
Su Muchen was behind the counter organizing that medical record labeled “Xia Lanshi,” rewriting a copy of the test data Xiao Yuan had left behind last night.
The handwriting on the paper was neater than usual, as if he were writing a prescription that needed to be carried out precisely: left-eye prescription, right-eye prescription, degree of photophobia, recommended lens material.
Every item was clearly marked, and in the corner, he had circled a supplementary line in red pen:
“Recommended to use photochromic lenses; transparent indoors, automatically adjusting outdoors.”
He put down the pen and was looking at that line, thinking about where he should have a pair of glasses made that met these conditions, when the copper bell rang.
Ding-a-ling—
When Xiao walked in, he was holding a takeaway cup of coffee.
As he passed the counter, his gaze inadvertently swept over the papers spread across the countertop, as if he had merely glanced over following the direction of the light.
The paper listed the prescription, degree of photophobia, and recommended lens material. In the corner was another line Su Muchen had added:
“Frame pending selection; needs to be lightweight and understated.”
Xiao slowed down slightly, but his footsteps did not stop.
“Chief Xia’s?” he asked, his tone very casual.
Su Muchen looked up at him. “Mm. Xiao Yuan took him back to test yesterday. The prescription has already been confirmed.”
Xiao stopped in front of the counter, placed the takeaway cup on the countertop, and pushed it toward Su Muchen.
He seemed to be thinking about something before speaking.
“I’ll handle the glasses.”
The tip of Su Muchen’s pen paused on the paper.
He raised his head, his gaze falling on Xiao’s profile.
Xiao did not look at him. He was looking down at the paper on the counter, as if memorizing those numbers.
“The group has optometrists and lens suppliers it works with. Faster than the optical shops outside. And we can get better things,” Xiao said.
Su Muchen looked at Xiao’s profile, as if judging how much of that sentence was “convenience” and how much was “intentional.”
Xiao usually would not take the initiative to take something upon himself unless that matter had something to do with someone.
He had known him long enough—long enough to distinguish that extremely fine boundary.
“Photochromic lenses are needed.” Su Muchen put down his pen. “Transparent indoors, automatically adjusting outdoors. He has photophobia. Ordinary sunglasses aren’t enough. He needs something that can change with the light.”
Xiao nodded once. “Mm, I know.”
He paused, as if confirming that saying the next sentence aloud would not be too obvious.
“…What kind of frame does he need?”
Su Muchen thought about it. “Something lighter.”
Then he raised his head and looked at Xiao.
“You choose the appearance. You’ve met him, so you know better than I do what would suit him.”
Xiao turned and walked two steps toward the door before stopping, as if he had thought of something.
“Anything else special?”
Su Muchen lowered his head and looked at the prescription on the paper. After a moment, he said:
“Add a line of words to the inside of the temples.”
Xiao’s movement stopped.
He did not turn around, but Su Muchen saw his back pause slightly, as if he were digesting those words.
“…What words?”
Su Muchen raised his head and looked at his back. His tone was calm, but faintly teasing.
“What do you think?”
Guichen Studio was quiet for a moment.
The afternoon sunlight was slowly moving across the wooden floor, stretching the shadow at the edge of the counter a little longer.
Xiao stood by the door. He did not turn around, nor did he immediately speak.
As if weighing the significance of that answer.
That line was swaying before him, and he was deciding whether he should reach out and grasp it.
After a moment, he slowly turned his head and sighed.
Helplessly, he said, “Cousin, stop messing around.”
Su Muchen smiled without answering.
Xiao stood by the back door for a while before finally speaking in a low voice.
“I’ll choose a light-colored thin frame. Understated, not easy to attract attention. No need for the words.”
“Okay,” Su Muchen said.
He did not ask Xiao why he wanted to personally handle these glasses, because he already knew the answer.
Some things did not need to be asked about. They only needed to be allowed to happen quietly.
He picked up the pen and added a line at the very bottom of the page:
“Glasses entrusted to Xiao for handling. Estimated delivery date: undetermined.”
Then he put down the pen, closed the medical record, and placed it back into the drawer.
The sunlight moved a short distance across the wooden floor, as if time were passing through this shop at its own pace.
The afternoon at Guichen Studio was very quiet, so quiet that it seemed as though nothing had happened.
But Su Muchen knew that just now, a line had been lightly touched, and the person who had touched it had already turned and left Guichen Studio.
That line was still there, trembling faintly.
◆◇◆◇◆
When the secret scout came to report, the Crown Prince’s people had only just left.
The wind outside the tent had not yet completely died down, as if those footsteps had only just been swallowed by the night. The footprints left in the snow had yet to be covered by fresh snow.
Xia Lanshi sat before the desk, still holding the cup of tea that had already gone mostly cold, as if waiting for news he already knew would come.
“Lord Jiang has begun investigating Madam Liu.”
The secret scout’s voice was very low.
He stood by the tent entrance, neither entering nor raising his head.
Xia Lanshi put down the teacup. His fingertips lightly turned around its rim half a circle, and then the corners of his mouth lifted into an extremely faint curve.
It was not a smile. It was more like the moment when someone finally saw the expected chess piece land in the position where it was supposed to land—a moment of confirmation.
“Mm,” he said.
Xiao Yuan sat beside the desk and had not spoken since entering the tent.
He saw the movement of Xia Lanshi’s hand when he put down the teacup, and he also saw that extremely faint curve.
Xia Lanshi turned his head toward Xiao Yuan.
“If he doesn’t investigate, the Crown Prince won’t be at ease.”
He paused, pushing the teacup half an inch toward the center of the desk, as if adjusting the distance between a chess piece and the chessboard.
“If he investigates but can’t find anything, the Crown Prince will be even less at ease.”
“So.” He raised his eyes, those pale-red eyes reflecting a trace of light in the candlelight. “He must be able to find something.”
Xiao Yuan was silent for a moment before asking, “To what extent will he investigate?”
Xia Lanshi thought about it, mentally walking through once again the path he had already laid out for Jiang Zechen.
“He will find Liu Tingxue, Guichen Medical Sect, and he will also find that those supplies indeed came from Tingxue Pavilion, and that the Northern Frontier indeed survived because of them.”
He paused before adding:
“He will find an answer that he believes is worth writing into the memorial.”
Xiao Yuan did not ask what that answer was.
He looked at Xia Lanshi as if confirming something.
“How long?”
“About another five days,” Xia Lanshi said. “He already has a direction. He is only missing one piece of physical evidence.”
When he said this, his tone had no fluctuations, as if speaking of something that had already been calculated.
◆◇◆◇◆
After Jiang Zechen received the “greetings” from the Eastern Palace, he did not stop the movement of his pen.
He had not finished a complete memorial for three days already.
The words on the paper had been repeatedly crossed out, rewritten, and crossed out again. In the end, only a few lines remained that he felt could be kept.
Every line had been carefully considered again and again, as if cautiously adjusting the flame of a lamp, not allowing it to burn too brightly, nor allowing it to go out.
He had not slept well for several days in a row, and the dark circles beneath his eyes had grown deeper and deeper.
Now, he needed to confirm a direction.
A direction that would neither make the Crown Prince suspicious nor force him to lie.
That night, the people he had sent out returned, bringing something with them.
When the person placed a small cloth bundle on Jiang Zechen’s desk, Jiang Zechen was looking at a recent inventory of supplies in Linbei City.
He put down the inventory, untied the cloth bundle, and inside was a piece of folded oiled paper.
The paper was somewhat thick, with an extremely thin wax coating on its surface. It was a material commonly used by northern caravans to wrap medicinal materials or dried goods.
There were no special markings on the corners of the oiled paper, but along the folds were pressure marks left behind as if it had been folded repeatedly.
Faintly, two characters could be seen.
He spread the oiled paper flat on the desk and adjusted the angle of the lamplight, letting the light shine from the side.
Those two characters appeared within the pressure marks. The strokes were neat and orderly. They were not handwritten, but seemed to have been carved onto a template and then stamped onto the paper.
“Guichen.”
He looked at it for a long time, repeatedly confirming it.
Then he turned the oiled paper over. There were no markings on the back, but there were extremely fine fold marks along the corners, as if it had wrapped an object of a fixed size.
He laid the paper flat on the desk and did not hurry to put it away.
He closed his eyes and pieced these fragments together again in his mind: the medicines of the Guichen Medical Sect, Liu Tingxue’s caravan, the flow of supplies, the words on that oiled paper.
All the clues pointed in the same direction, and that direction gradually emerged.
When he opened his eyes, his gaze fell on the supply inventory at the corner of the desk.
◆◇◆◇◆
The following afternoon, Jiang Zechen went to the branch of Tingxue Pavilion established in Linbei City.
This branch was said to have been established some time ago.
He brought no attendants.
Standing before the counter, he waited until the shopkeeper had finished announcing his arrival before he was led into the back hall.
Liu Tingxue was organizing a batch of newly arrived goods. When she heard footsteps, she did not raise her head, as if she had known long ago that someone would come.
“How does Lord Jiang have time to come by today?”
She asked in a gentle tone, as if greeting a customer who did not often visit.
Jiang Zechen made no small talk. He directly placed the piece of oiled paper on the table and pushed it toward her.
Only then did Liu Tingxue raise her head. When her gaze fell on the paper, there was no obvious change in her expression, as if she were merely looking at an ordinary piece of wrapping paper.
“Goods from Tingxue Pavilion,” Jiang Zechen said. “The two characters ‘Guichen’ are printed on it.”
Liu Tingxue was silent for a moment before slightly nodding.
“Yes.”
Jiang Zechen did not hurry to question her, as if waiting for her to continue.
Liu Tingxue gently pushed the oiled paper back toward him.
Her tone remained gentle, but there was now a faint layer of distance in it.
“What does Lord Jiang want to ask?”
“What is the relationship between the Guichen Medical Sect and Tingxue Pavilion?”
Liu Tingxue was quiet for an instant, as if weighing the matter.
Then she spoke, her tone calm and composed.
“The Guichen Medical Sect is an overseas branch. It is not within Dashing territory, and it has a long-term supply agreement with Tingxue Pavilion. They provide medicinal materials and medical equipment, while Tingxue Pavilion is responsible for circulating them within Dashing. I have never directly met that Doctor Su. I only contact him through trusted channels.”
She paused, as if confirming that what she had said had not crossed a certain line.
“As for the details… those are commercial secrets of Tingxue Pavilion and are inconvenient to disclose. Please forgive me, my lord.”
Jiang Zechen did not immediately respond.
His gaze remained on Liu Tingxue’s face for a while, as if judging how much of those words was true.
Liu Tingxue’s expression did not change, like a mirror that had already been wiped clean countless times.
“How long have you been cooperating?”
“Three years.”
“Three years.” Jiang Zechen repeated that number. “Tingxue Pavilion is the largest commercial route in the Northern Frontier. The goods of the Guichen Medical Sect enter Dashing through you, and are then purchased by His Highness Prince Su for disaster relief. Was this route established by yourselves, or did someone connect you?”
Liu Tingxue smiled slightly.
“Lord Jiang is an inspector, not an auditor from the Ministry of Revenue. How this commercial route was established and who connected the two sides may be more important to the people of the Northern Frontier than to the court’s account books.”
Jiang Zechen said nothing.
He knew Liu Tingxue was going around the question, but he also heard her position—she would not say anything more, and that “anything more” was precisely what he truly wanted to know.
He did not question her further. He merely tucked the piece of oiled paper back into his sleeve, stood up, and slightly nodded toward Liu Tingxue.
“I have disturbed you.”
Liu Tingxue also stood and returned the courtesy.
“Take care, Lord Jiang.”
When Jiang Zechen walked out of Tingxue Pavilion, the wind outside was colder than when he had arrived.
He stood on the steps for a moment, watching the slowly moving figures and caravans on the street, once again confirming how the supplies flowing out of Tingxue Pavilion became part of the Northern Frontier through these ordinary channels.
That commercial route was indeed real.
The Guichen Medical Sect indeed existed.
Liu Tingxue was indeed the intermediary.
He had already obtained the evidence he wanted. Although it was incomplete, it was already enough for him to write a memorial that could be accounted for.
When he returned to his residence, his steps were steadier than when he had come.
He placed the piece of oiled paper inside a wooden box and set it at the corner of his desk, like some kind of evidence that had already been confirmed.
He sat before the desk and did not hurry to pick up his pen. Instead, he first reorganized the fragments of these past days.
The Guichen Medical Sect—an overseas branch, unwilling to show itself, sending medicines and supplies into the Northern Frontier through Tingxue Pavilion.
Xiao Yuan—purchasing them in the name of Prince Su, using them for disaster relief, epidemic prevention, and helping the people.
This line was clean. No secretly stored weapons or armor, no forming a party to plot rebellion, no violation of Dashing law.
He repeatedly examined these conclusions in his mind several times, confirming that every one of them could stand up to scrutiny, before finally picking up his pen.
When the tip of the pen touched the paper, the first character he wrote was “Your subject.”
He spent nearly two shichen writing that memorial.
During that time, he stopped writing several times, as if confirming whether certain wordings were appropriate.
When the final draft was completed, the writing on the paper was neat, with no corrections. Every sentence had been carefully considered again and again:
─────────────
Your subject, Jiang Zechen, respectfully submits:
Your subject was ordered to inspect the Northern Frontier disaster-relief affairs. After more than a month of investigation, I respectfully present the relevant circumstances item by item as follows:
I. Source of Northern Frontier supplies.
Your subject has investigated and found that the medicinal materials, grain, cotton clothing, medical equipment, and other supplies used in Linbei City are mostly transported in by the caravans of Tingxue Pavilion. The head of Tingxue Pavilion, the Liu woman, claims to have a long-term supply agreement with an overseas medical sect named the Guichen Medical Sect. This medical sect is located overseas and is not within Dashing territory. The Liu woman has also never personally met the person in charge of that medical sect. The two sides are connected through commercial routes, with the goods circulated through Tingxue Pavilion throughout the Northern Frontier.
II. Prince Su’s purpose in purchasing the supplies.
According to your subject’s investigation, since Prince Su Xiao Yuan took office as the Northern Frontier Governor, he has indeed used money to purchase the supplies transported by Tingxue Pavilion. Their uses have mostly been epidemic prevention and control, disaster relief, and city repairs, with no evidence of privately hoarding grain or military equipment or expanding military provisions. Your subject reviewed the relevant account books and supply lists of Linbei City. The purchase amounts correspond with their destinations, and there are no obvious records of unlawful activity.
III. Overall assessment of Prince Su’s conduct.
According to your subject’s investigation thus far, I have found no evidence that Prince Su privately stored weapons, privately manufactured armor and military equipment, or formed a faction to plot rebellion. All supplies obtained have been used first for disaster relief, epidemic prevention, and helping the people. They are in fact what his duties require, and there are no signs of overstepping his authority.
The above sections have all been personally investigated and verified by your subject and are reported truthfully.
I humbly await the Sage’s review.
Northern Frontier Disaster Relief Inspector
Hanlin Academy Compiler
Your subject, Jiang Zechen, respectfully submits.
─────────────
He paused for a long time over the final few lines.
Those words were not lies. They were matters he had witnessed with his own eyes.
Xiao Yuan indeed had not privately stored weapons in Linbei City, had not privately manufactured armor and military equipment, and had not formed a faction to plot rebellion.
He had only bought grain, bought medicine, and kept this city alive.
When Jiang Zechen put down his pen, the sky outside had already darkened.
He left the memorial spread out on the desk, waiting for the ink to dry completely. The lamplight made the words on the paper appear clear and calm.
He looked at those words, the words he had written with his own hands.
Every sentence was true, but when those truths were put together, they formed a picture more complete than what he had expected when he first arrived in the Northern Frontier.
He knew that after the Crown Prince finished reading this memorial, he would receive a “seventy-percent-true answer.”
The Guichen Medical Sect existed, the Liu woman acted as its representative, the overseas commercial route was reliable, and Prince Su purchased supplies for disaster relief.
The truly important matters had not been written down.
For example, he had not asked Liu Tingxue, “Where exactly is the Guichen Medical Sect?” because he knew she would not answer.
He had also not asked Xiao Yuan, “Why do you need so much medicine?” because he had already seen where those medicines had gone.
He sat beneath the lamplight and did not look at the memorial again. He merely folded it in half, placed it into an envelope, sealed it with red wax, and put it at the corner of the desk, waiting to send it out tomorrow.
◆◇◆◇◆
By the time the news was transmitted back to Xia Lanshi’s tent, it was already night.
The secret scout’s voice remained low, but there was a little more certainty in it than last time.
“Lord Jiang has already sealed the memorial. It will be sent out tomorrow.”
Xia Lanshi nodded and said nothing more.
The secret scout bowed and withdrew outside the tent.
Xiao Yuan sat beside the desk and did not speak.
He looked at Xia Lanshi.
Feeling that gaze, Xia Lanshi raised his head and looked toward Xiao Yuan.
“What does Your Highness wish to know?”
Xiao Yuan said, “How much did you let him know?”
Xia Lanshi gathered the documents on the desk neatly. His fingertips lightly pressed down on the edge of the pages, as if organizing a path that had already been walked.
“Three parts false, seven parts true,” he said, his tone calm, as if stating a rule that had already been verified countless times. “That way, he will believe it the most.”
Xiao Yuan did not ask what those three parts of falsehood were.
He already knew the answer.
Every clue Jiang Zechen had found was real, but everything he had seen and heard had been what Xia Lanshi allowed him to see.
It was the “truth” floating on the surface, wrapped layer upon layer in “lies.”
And the parts he had not seen were the true core of importance.
When Xiao Yuan stood up, he paused for a step at the tent entrance.
He did not turn around. He only said one sentence:
“You calculated it very accurately.”
Xia Lanshi did not respond.
He lowered his head and looked at the map of the Northern Frontier spread open on the desk.
This game of chess was about to be finished.
But the real chessboard had not yet been completely laid out.