Chapter 1533 - The Superior

A man's silhouette sat on the bed, silently watching the doorway. The faint light filtering through the bamboo blinds reduced his entire figure to a black shadow.

He had no topknot, and his clothes had collars—the typical appearance of a naturalized citizen. His build wasn't particularly large, but the muscles bulging on his arms and shoulders indicated he was a powerful man.

Xin Nachun set the bundle she carried on the table and gingerly sat on the bed.

"What, the wound still hasn't healed?"

The man's accent was strange—not-quite-standard Mandarin. He came from the mainland. Though he could speak official dialect, for Xin Nachun, who had grown up locally and never even visited Qiongzhou Prefecture City, it was extremely difficult to understand. As for the Lingao dialect Xin Nachun spoke—strictly speaking, it wasn't even Chinese.

Fortunately, both could speak a bit of "New Speech." Though Xin Nachun wasn't a naturalized citizen and wasn't required to learn it, doing business in a place like East Gate Market with its mix of people from all over, speaking only the local dialect simply wouldn't work.

Thus these two, whose purpose was to overthrow the Yuan Elder Court regime, communicated their conspiracies using the Mandarin the Yuan Elder Court was vigorously promoting.

"I have you to thank for this." Xin Nachun's voice carried some resentment. If not for following the man's orders, she wouldn't have taken those fifty lashes for nothing.

It was the man who had sent her to the embankment to make contact. Who would have thought the other party wouldn't acknowledge her as a "fellow operative," and the argument had actually brought the police.

If not for her identity as a prostitute, which hadn't aroused the police's suspicion, and if the other party hadn't shown some restraint, she would be in the Cropped-Hairs' prison right now "going through the hot hall"!

In a way, she had walked right to the edge of the abyss.

Thinking of this, she couldn't help feeling a chill of fear.

"Getting a whipping and you're upset? Truly a woman's concerns!" The man's face was invisible, but his tone clearly held laughter.

"Easy for you to say, since you weren't the one getting your ass whipped," Xin Nachun said. At that, the scabbed wounds on her buttocks itched fiercely; she couldn't help scratching.

"Aren't you on your back getting 'whipped' by men every day? What's fifty lashes?" The man's words were both flippant and contemptuous. "Back when I served in the yamen, if I botched a task, one word from the superior and I'd be dragged off for eighty military strokes—no crying out allowed. The Cropped-Hairs scratched an itch on your backside and you're howling like this—if they really caught you and threw you in the Political Security Bureau, you'd sell me out the moment you turned around—" At this, his tone turned cold and cruel.

Xin Nachun's heart trembled. Her "superior" might look honest and unremarkable, blending right in with naturalized citizens, but when it came to killing, he didn't hesitate. She had seen with her own eyes how he had calmly and efficiently killed two people by the sea, tied stones to them, and dumped them in the water. And she had been the one who lured those two to the shore.

As for why those two had to die, she had no idea, and the superior didn't permit her to know. But from that moment on, she was fully committed to following him.

After Xin Nachun was released from the "Correction Institute" that specially housed bandit kin and similar "non-citizens," she had no means of support. Lazy and idle by nature, she had always been the village "loose woman" and "tramp" type. Though the Correction Institute had found her a job, she thought factories like clothing or textile plants were too tiring, and farm work meant sun exposure. As for commercial establishments—once they heard she was "bandit kin," no one wanted to hire her.

Lingao did not allow unemployed persons to exist. "Non-citizens" like her had thirty days after release to obtain proof of employment. Otherwise, she would be treated as a "vagrant"—meaning direct "detention and labor." That meant doing every kind of hard, exhausting work. In the end, seeing that being a yellow-ticket prostitute seemed decent—not too strenuous and money-making—she registered as a self-employed prostitute.

East Gate Market had a large population, especially many single men. Xin Nachun was young, good-looking, and had the right figure. She quickly became a popular yellow ticket. With no family to support, life was quite comfortable.

But a comfortable life could not make her forget the hatred in her heart. Especially for her most obsessed lover—come to think of it, she didn't feel much about the family members killed or executed during the bandit suppression. They had never treated her well, just used her when they had urges, pulled up their pants and left when done, never showing a kind face, beating and cursing her at will. But Zhao Dachong, the man she could not forget, she yearned to avenge.

How to avenge him, though, she had never really thought about. Under the Yuan Elder Court's rule, this was a typical "police state" with a tight legal net. A village loose woman like her, used to running wild, immediately suffered—before long, she broke the law and received a whipping. Though being whipped in the Correction Institute was routine, compared to the Corrections Office's lashing, that had been merely a tickle. The public whipping had shattered her soul; she didn't even remember how she got off the frame and back to the hostel. She had lain on her stomach for over ten days before she could get up.

From then on, though her hatred for the Yuan Elder Court deepened, her fear grew even stronger. So-called revenge gradually became just a thought.

Until a few months ago, a chance client encounter introduced her to the superior. She was recruited as an agent. After witnessing with her own eyes the superior's Brocade Guard waist badge, she threw herself wholeheartedly into the work. It was as if, having been suppressed by the Cropped-Hairs for too long, her rebound was especially fierce—like a moth flying into a flame without looking back. Besides, this superior's attitude toward her was no different from the late Zhao Dachong.

However, Zhao Dachong had only been a rural bandit, while the superior was a proper, officially ranked member of the Brocade Guard. In looks and bearing, Zhao Dachong couldn't compare. Even when he berated her, his official dialect sounded crisp and clear—far more pleasing to the ear than Zhao Dachong's country talk. Gradually, the man she had never stopped thinking about faded from her heart, and the superior occupied all her thoughts.

"A whipping is nothing. I've suffered worse before," Xin Nachun said, affecting nonchalance. "But that guy knows my identity—one shout from him and it's all over!"

"Heh heh." The man laughed coldly. "Is your neck carrying a pig's head? Can't think at all? He's not clean either—if he shouts, can he escape? Since he could leave Brocade Guard code marks, even if he's not a colleague, he's at least some kind of agent. If someone like that sneaks into Lingao, would the Cropped-Hairs let him off lightly?"

"That's..."

"Working for me, you'd better be sharp. Use your head more. Stop thinking about seducing men all day." The man's tone was full of contempt. "If something goes wrong, we're all finished!"

"If I don't seduce men, what do I eat?" Xin Nachun said carelessly. "You want to serve the country loyally—I have no interest in that."

"Serve the country loyally," the man laughed bitterly. "Who still serves the country loyally these days? I'm doing this because I have no choice!" He made a vicious chopping motion with his hand. "Coming to this Cropped-Hair territory, not quite human, not quite ghost. If it weren't for—" He caught himself in time. "Never mind. You wouldn't understand anyway."

He stood, pulled a thick stack of circulation vouchers from a satchel on the floor, and tossed them on the bed.

"This is for your wound medicine."

"This much!" Ignoring the pain in her buttocks, Xin Nachun lunged for it, snatched it up—tugging at the barely-healed wounds, which had been itching unbearably; now came a sharp stab of pain. She couldn't help crying out.

"Don't rush. There's plenty more." The man asked with a cold smile, "Are you still in touch with that Shopkeeper Gou?"

"Yes, but his wife is very jealous. I can only manage when there's time..." Xin Nachun had grabbed that stack of vouchers; a quick count showed over three hundred. Her mood immediately improved.

"Who asked you about that? Does he still exchange gold and silver privately?"

"Of course he does. That's his livelihood. With just that little shop and the pittance the Cropped-Hairs pay him—he's got a woman he's infatuated with in Heyuan District who's cost him plenty—how would he manage otherwise?"

"Is it safe?"

"No problem. The Cropped-Hairs trust him. He's careful too—only exchanges for people introduced by acquaintances."

"What kind of person is he? Reliable?"

"A spineless softie." Xin Nachun smiled. "But he's got grievances against the Cropped-Hairs now."

"Oh? Why?"

"Shopkeeper Gou was one of the first to side with the Cropped-Hairs locally. He used to be a cook at Gou Family Village. Shortly after the Cropped-Hairs landed, they attacked Gou Family Village. After they took it, he was the first to turn coat. Years later, those who sided with the Cropped-Hairs early have all done well. Even captured Gou Family Village militiamen are officers in the Cropped-Hair army now. And him? Still running a little eatery, getting a stipend for being the Cropped-Hairs' informant. Wouldn't you be upset?"

"No wonder." The man nodded, then pulled out a mulberry-paper package from his satchel and tossed it on the bed. "Take this silver and exchange it for circulation vouchers. Give them to me next time we meet. When you exchange it, feel free to give him a little extra."

Throughout Hainan Island, gold and silver were prohibited as currency. But that didn't mean there was no demand. Thus black markets for gold and silver exchange had emerged. Though the National Police had cracked down and kept the market small, underground exchangers still existed.

The superior's activities in Lingao required substantial funds. Circulation vouchers couldn't be found in the Ming. Places like Guangzhou and Leizhou could exchange some, but quantities were limited. Silver had to be smuggled in and exchanged locally. This was why the man had recruited Xin Nachun. Local yellow-ticket prostitutes moved freely and had connections across all social strata—excellent go-betweens and couriers.

"Why give him a bonus?" Xin Nachun was puzzled. "Are you trying to recruit him?" She cried out, "Absolutely not!"