Chapter 2685: The Capital (Part 41)

Gou Chengxuan stood before the Ziminglou on Huifu Street, staring at its emptied shell—already stripped bare by looters. The sight filled him with despair. His family was shattered, his future destroyed beyond repair. An inexplicable grief and rage surged through him, a nameless fury with no outlet. He snatched up a broken brick from the roadside and hurled it against the door, now sealed with official strips, roaring through clenched teeth: "Shameless Shorn-hair Thieves! I curse you all to die wretched deaths!"

"Why such distress, Young Master?" Gou Chengxuan hadn't expected anyone to be lurking in this desolate side street. The sudden voice so startled him that he nearly dropped to his knees, thinking the Shorn-hair Thieves had tracked him down. But when he focused his eyes, he discovered the speaker was a wandering Daoist with graying beard and hair. The man sat upright by the roadside, holding a banner that proclaimed "Iron Mouth, Honest Fortunes," with a young Daoist boy standing dutifully behind him—altogether the picture of an otherworldly expert.

"Who might Your Excellency be?" Seeing that the stranger bore no resemblance to a Shorn-hair Thief, Gou Chengxuan mustered his courage to ask.

"Face reading and character interpretation. Eliminating disasters and resolving difficulties." The Daoist smiled faintly, flicking his horsetail whisk toward the banner. "This Poor Daoist wanders the four seas and happened to pass through your precious land. Our meeting today is fate—why not let me cast a reading for you?"

"I have no money." Gou Chengxuan clutched his cloth robe tighter, ensuring the life-saving silver hidden against his chest remained secure.

"Not a single penny required." The Daoist maintained that inscrutable smile. "Forgive this Poor Daoist for speaking presumptuously, but Young Master, I suspect your fate has been sabotaged by treacherous villains, and thus you've fallen into such straits—am I correct?"

Having his raw wound so precisely probed, Gou Chengxuan's curiosity was piqued. He approached skeptically and asked: "What wisdom does the Daoist Master have to offer?"

"Wealth and status, future prospects, marriage—whatever Young Master wishes to inquire about, simply grant me a character." The Daoist smoothed out a paper scroll as he spoke, and the boy respectfully presented brush and ink.

Gou Chengxuan smiled bitterly. If the Shorn-hair Thieves were not eliminated, what future was there to speak of? Holding the brush and pondering briefly, he wrote the character Zei—"Thief": "I ask only this: how long will these Shorn-hair Thieves continue their rampage?"

"An unusual question, sir." The Daoist pointed at the character, nodding and swaying as he analyzed its components. "Looking at this character, the Shorn-hair Thieves are not easy to overcome. This 'Thief' character derives from Bei, meaning wealth, and Rong, meaning weapons. Bei represents money and goods; Rong represents soldiers and arms. Whoever possesses both can dominate a region. In this campaign, the Imperial Court firstly failed to cut off their money and grain, and secondly failed to blunt their military edge. It seems these Shorn-hair Thieves are likely to occupy Qiongzhou for quite some time."

"Can it be that our Great Ming has no way to deal with these bandits?" Gou Chengxuan sighed, his expression desolate, and pressed further: "Can the Daoist Master read my future as well?"

"Let me see your hand, sir."

Gou Chengxuan extended his hand, only to have it seized firmly by the Daoist. Startled, he tried to pull free, but the grip was like iron pincers—impossible to break. Not daring to cause a scene, he could only plead in a low voice: "Daoist Master, why must you do this? If you want money, I still have a few mace of silver I can give you... Ow, ow... If you don't let go, I'll shout for help!"

But the Daoist only tightened his hold, smiling as he spoke: "Does sir harbor enmity with those Shorn-hair Thieves? You might as well tell me—this Poor Daoist can analyze the situation for you."

The remark struck so close to the truth that Gou Chengxuan shuddered involuntarily. However, having narrowly escaped death multiple times, he was no stranger to danger. How could he easily reveal his background? Even in his panic, he forced a laugh and deflected: "Why would the Daoist Master say such a thing?"

"Observing sir's brushwork—those characters like iron hooks and golden strokes—speaks of no less than ten years of disciplined study. Yet looking at sir's cloth robe, though the material is top-grade and new, it bears many stains and tears. These past days must have been quite wretched indeed. And just now, sir hurled a brick at that Shorn-hair Thief's former establishment. The connection is not difficult to deduce." The Daoist paused deliberately, waiting until curiosity was sufficiently whetted before lowering his voice to a pointed whisper: "Is sir aware that quite a few defeated soldiers have been fleeing from Qiongzhou lately? The Governor-General's Yamen still has reward notices posted at its entrance. Anyone who escaped privately and refuses to return to camp is treated as a spy."

Cold sweat broke out across Gou Chengxuan's entire body. He stammered: "You... what do you want?"

"Ha ha ha—don't panic, sir. This Poor Daoist cares nothing for a few taels of reward silver." The Daoist abruptly dropped his smile, his eyes turning sharp and piercing. "I simply ask: did you flee in defeat from the front?"

"What if I did? What if I didn't?" Gou Chengxuan's face went pale. He was no ordinary soldier but a private advisor on the military roster. Now that the sea-crossing army had been completely annihilated and he had fled back alone, if he failed to report to the Governor-General's Yamen for investigation and was subsequently caught, the consequences would be dire.

If he had been a Guangzhou local or a veteran in the official army, things might have been different. But he was a genuine "outsider" and "newcomer"—no background, no patron—and his household registration came from what they now called the "Bandit's Nest." If he actually went to report himself, wouldn't he make the perfect "spy"? There was no telling which official might decide to "borrow his head for convenience."

Thinking this through, his soul nearly fled his body. The Shorn-hair Thieves were detestable, certainly, but the insidious nature of the official lords made him tremble even more. During these months on the campaign, he had witnessed it all firsthand.

With trembling voice, he said: "Daoist Master, Good Fellow, please let this lowly one go. Whatever I know, I will tell you everything without reservation..."

"In that case, this Poor Daoist has one matter that remains unclear. I hope sir will answer truthfully." The Daoist pointed south and asked: "How exactly was Regional Commander He defeated this time?"

Gou Chengxuan's wrist throbbed with pain, and he dared not hold back, spilling everything like beans from a jar: "The Shorn-hair Thieves' muskets are devastating—the cavalry couldn't even get close. Several charges were beaten back. Their cannons are even more terrifying; one blast destroys everything for tens of li. Regional Commander He's Red Barbarian Cannons were simply no match..."

As the Daoist listened to this account, his face grew increasingly grim. Only after extracting every detail did he release his grip. Gou Chengxuan felt as though he'd been granted amnesty. Seizing the opportunity, he bolted away. Before the Daoist could react, he had already vanished from sight. When he finally ran out of breath, Gou Chengxuan ducked into a secluded alley, stopped, and hastily stripped off his cloth robe. He smeared his face with mud and disguised himself as a beggar.

He dared not remain in the city any longer. He had to get outside the walls and find an uninhabited place to hide!

Liu Sha watched him flee without concern, then whispered a few instructions to the Daoist boy.

This man had managed to escape the chaos of battle in Qiongzhou—no simple feat. In his speech, he had revealed not only deep hatred for the Shorn-hair Thieves but also intimate familiarity with their military situation. He was exactly the kind of talent the Master sought to employ. His running away now hardly mattered; in this city of Guangzhou, as long as one found the right door, there was no person who couldn't be tracked down.

And finding such a door was no difficulty at all for those who came from the Northern Division.

October in the South still carried the lingering heat of summer. Even after the third drum of dusk had sounded, the air remained oppressively hot. Liu Sha had maintained his stall all day and was just preparing to pack up and return to the inn when a voice suddenly reached his ear.

"Liu Mutou! Well, it really is you!"

Liu Sha turned to see a lean, tall man waving at him from the street corner.

"You are... Huang Laoliu! How did I run into you here?"

This Huang Laoliu had also once served as an operative monitoring officials in the capital. He and the Liu brothers shared some history—not particularly close, but with the camaraderie of former comrades-in-arms nonetheless. Having not seen each other for years and now reuniting in a foreign land, both were in high spirits. They clasped hands and sought out a wine shop to catch up. After three rounds of wine and five courses of dishes, they exchanged accounts of their current situations. It turned out Huang Laoliu had also lost his position last year. Fortunately, he had a sworn brother here, so he had come to Guangzhou to make a living.

Reunited after so long, the conversation ranged from secret news of the capital all the way to the Shorn-hair Thieves of the South Sea. While Liu Sha was still lamenting how formidable their firearms were, Huang Laoliu wore a look of utter disdain. Whether it was the wine going to his head or deliberate boasting, Huang Laoliu thumped his chest and declared: "To think that brothers like you and me, men of real ability, had our rice bowls smashed by those sour scholars—truly infuriating beyond words. Look at that pack of good-for-nothings; they can't even handle a few Shorn-hair Thieves. It's embarrassing to even speak of it."

"Brother Huang speaks too hastily. Those Shorn-hair Thieves' firearms are devastating—it's said even Red Barbarian Cannons are useless against them!"

"Heh heh, Brother Liu has been frightened witless by those incompetents' exaggerations. As I see it, those Shorn-hair Thief firearms are nothing special at all." Here Huang Laoliu deliberately leaned closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper: "Brother, I have seen the real things!"

"What real things?"

Huang Laoliu's face was full of pride. "Since we're true brothers, I don't fear telling you. The Shorn-hair Thieves may be fierce, but when they fall alone, they're just men like anyone else. These Shorn-hair Thief firearms—I have one execution to my name."

"Is this true?"

"Would I lie? Right now, I'm looking for buyers for those few muskets." Huang Laoliu laughed.

Liu Sha was overjoyed, thinking this was truly a case of "wearing out iron shoes searching everywhere, only to find it without any effort at all." He had searched bitterly for months, and here was ready-made business falling into his lap. How could he let such an opportunity slip away? "Brother Huang certainly has impressive means! Might I have a look at these Shorn-hair Thief weapons?"

"Well, about that..." Huang Laoliu rubbed his hands and scratched his head, appearing somewhat embarrassed. "The goods are in my possession, but this isn't ordinary merchandise. If word gets out or catches the wrong attention, it might jinx my luck."

Liu Sha caught the hint in his words and quickly produced an ingot of silver from his robe, letting it flash in the light: "Brother, why seek other buyers? As long as the goods are genuine, the price is negotiable!"

"Such generous handwriting, Brother Liu!" Huang Laoliu stared at the silver with glowing eyes, the wine sobering from him by three-tenths. "Brother Liu, have you found yourself a path to fortune?"

"I won't hide it from you. Ever since losing my position at the Town-soothing Division, I've joined a master who knows how to recognize talent. This new Master holds high rank and wields great influence, and he's generous by nature—but he has a particular fondness for these Shorn-hair Thief objects. Never mind your few muskets; even if you had a cannon, we'd take it."

"Excellent, excellent! Then I shall rely on Brother Liu's patronage in the future." Huang Laoliu was reaching for the silver when Liu Sha withdrew it:

"One doesn't burn incense until one sees the True Buddha—that's the rule of the Jianghu." So saying, he tossed out a string of copper coins instead. "Keep this as travel money for now. Once the matter is concluded, there will be separate thanks."

Huang Laoliu laughed sheepishly: "Understood! Rest assured, I won't delay things. Silver is secondary—but if there's ever an opportunity to serve on the job, I hope Big Brother will look after Little Brother!"

"That can be arranged."

Huang Laoliu tucked the copper coins into his robe, then suddenly frowned and said: "I won't hide it from Brother Liu—these muskets are outside the city. A few days ago it would have been convenient, but right now the Shorn-hair Thieves are causing havoc at the Pearl River Estuary, so the city gate inspections have become much stricter. All goods being transported are interrogated. The muskets will have to be handed over outside the city."

(End of Chapter)