Chapter 230: Happy News

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

"How should I respond, sir?"

This was a crucial point. Fan Xian was not sure how Yan Bingyun had first made contact with the agents under his command, so he was careful not to act without thinking carefully. "There won't be a specific handler in Shangjing within the next two months, but I'll appoint someone responsible for getting in touch with you for the time being."

The old shopkeeper looked somewhat concerned. "I ask that you exercise caution, sir. In the 20 years since Xiao En's capture, the Northern Qi Brocade Guard have been nowhere near on a par with the Red Riders of Northern Wei. But in an enemy nation, a subordinate must still consider those beneath him."

Fan Xian nodded. This was also why the Overwatch Council had not dared to contact those "orphans" abandoned in the north over the past year. "Do not worry," he said calmly. "I'll find the least trackable person in the whole Council."

Of course, he meant Wang Qinian, a man who had spent his life tracking others without ever being caught.

He couldn't hang around too long in that place. After exchanging a few words, Fan Xian got ready to leave, but before he did so, he suddenly had something else to say. "Change the password."

"Yes, sir," said the shopkeeper, bowing slightly.

"One-three-one-four-five-two-seven-seven-seven."

"Yes, sir." The shopkeeper repeated the seemingly random string of numbers without a single mistake.

Fan Xian nodded, satisfied, then returned to the main room. Like a merchant, he cupped his hands in farewell to the shopkeeper, not forgetting to pick up his two pots of oil. Seeing the customer leave, the young shop assistant poked fun at the shopkeeper. "Boss, isn't it a little early to be ordering in sesame oil?"

The shopkeeper looked at him and smiled. "Yes, well, it's big business."

The shop assistant pondered for a moment. Could such a crummy oil shop as their own really be doing business deals like the oil merchants of Dongyi? Several hundred catties of oil was big business indeed. The young man couldn't help but frown upon the old man's unthinking moneygrubbing.

Fan Xian carefully disposed of the oil he was carrying as he walked along the road. He didn't dare give it to a beggar, or casually throw it away, because the most crucial point of the Overwatch Council's spy operating procedures was that one should not underestimate the enemy's capabilities. Although Provost Shen Zhong of the Brocade Guard did not seem all that powerful on that rainy night in the brothel, Fan Xian knew that that was merely a pretence.

After having disposed completely of his jars of oil, Fan Xian set off on the road back to the diplomatic mission. The sky was darkening, and the crowds on the streets were thinning out. As he crossed an arch bridge over the Yuquan River, Fan Xian wiped his face with rainwater. Using both his hands, he got rid of the make-up he'd taken from the young lady's dwelling. It formed a dirty clump of reddish-yellow powder in the palms of his hands.

He ran his hand along the stone lions on the arch bridge, and the powder fell from his palms, quietly mixing in with the river water. No one would find even a trace of it.

Leaving the bridge and going through an alley, and turning making a turn to exit from a row of houses, Fan Xian had already regained his true features. He took off his rain hat and turned his clothing inside out, and he looked just as he had when he was leaving Haitang - handsome and elegant.

He returned to the diplomatic mission with a swagger in his step. The Brocade Guards, who had spent most of the days drinking tea, looked at him a little strangely. Fan Xian knew that news of the deaths of those three saboteurs had no doubt reached Shen Zhong's ears, but the Brocade Guard could only keep it to themselves. As for when they would make reprisals, that was none of Fan Xian's concern.

In the most secluded courtyard of the compound, under its long eaves, Yan Bingyun lay on a low couch. The couch was covered with a soft embroidered quilt. Although Fan Xian had treated his wounds, it would take a long time to recover from the torment he had suffered over the past year. There were wounds all over his body which he could not bear to be touched, so Fan Xian had thought of a way to keep him covered up. Thankfully the weather had not been too warm recently.

Though he knew that the detached northern spymaster was now emotionally and physically exhausted during the process of his recovery, Fan Xian still felt somewhat ashamed to have to trouble him, having relied on Yan Bingyun's strategies over the past few days in Northern Qi.

After Fan Xian gave him a brief explanation about what had happened that day, Yan Bingyun looked at him gloomily. "I hope you did not leave any tracks, sir. Otherwise my subordinates will all be rooted out. Even if you are Commissioner of the Overwatch Council, I will have to take you to tribunal."

Fan Xian shook his head. "I know that your power goes far beyond that. Although the individual contacts are safe, efficiency is too low. There are a number of other aspects that you will need to find a way to set in motion, but I probably don't have the time to deal with them. I am getting ready to hand the contacts over to Wang Qinian - I'm not sure how you feel about that proposal."

There was a strange look in Yan Bingyun's eyes. The past few days, this young high official had shown that he could only work in accordance with the rules. His greatest merit was that he was good at listening to his opinions. But today, he had hit the nail on the head when it came to the network in the north; it seemed that he was quite capable indeed.

"I'm happy with Wang Qinian..." He deliberated for a moment. "Of all those in the Council who hid themselves in the north at the earliest opportunity, Master Wang is one of them."

Fan Xian was a little surprised. He hadn't expected Wang Qinian to have been doing this since the beginning. "According to your plans," continued Yan Bingyun, "we can co-ordinate with Shang Shanhu and dig Xiao En out from his whereabouts. But I hope that the Council's men will not get too deeply involved."

Fan Xian responded to his request, knowing that he didn't want those hidden in the north involved because they had paid too high a price for the internal struggles of the court. "Don't worry," he promised, "I will act appropriately."

Yan Bingyun frowned. "Shang Shanhu is a lion. It is a pity he cannot find a position of strength in Shangjing and so he can only seek the Eldest Princess's help. As officials, we act on behalf of the Eldest Princess's will, as it should be by rights, but you must indeed act appropriately... I believe that the day when Shang Shanhu moves to rescue Xiao En will also be the day that the Eldest Princess and Shen Zhong get rid of the power of the army."

Fan Xian knew that the seemingly-indifferent official had guessed what he wanted to do. He couldn't say much more. "That is what I would like to see. I cannot underestimate the strength of Shen Zhong's control over Shangjing... Let them fight amongst themselves. In any case, it won't do Qing any harm."

After leaving the rear courtyard, Fan Xian found Wang Qinian and told him of his duties. Wang Qinian memorized the string of numbers, knowing that in the days to come, he would be responsible for this dangerous and important task. He was not that old shopkeeper at the oil shop; he was Fan Xian's trusted aide. So he had the courage to ask something. "One-three-one-four-five-two-seven-seven-seven... Sir, it seems like that string of numbers represents something."

"All my life I love money, money, money." Fan Xian laughed. In the dialect of Danzhou, the words for 'money' and 'seven' sounded very similar. [1]

Business had been good for the old oil-sellar over the past few days, and he'd sold a number of barrels of oil. News came to him in secret, and he began to re-establish contact with the Overwatch Council's network in the north after a year of silence. It hadn't taken much time. The spies, disguised as ordinary Northern Qi citizens, had all received their first missions in over a year.

Reports began to be fed back through all types of channels. They were collated and summarized by a number of personnel at the ends of the lines of communication, and finally sent to the oil store in Zhangjiadian.

At the same time, the Qing diplomatic mission attended a number of banquets, increasing their capacity for liquor considerably. Of course, shopkeeper Sheng from Xiushui Street ran over to the diplomatic mission's quarters a number of times, attempting to flatter Fan Xian, believing that he could get the information that both Xinyang and Shang Shanhu wanted from him.

They acted as mediators, handling a lot of information and choosing reports for further analysis. Finally, the one who came up with a precise conclusion was Yan Bingyun, who had spent his days in the rear courtyard, frequently coughing.

Fan Xian did not have too much to do. After all, he was the chief diplomat, and was busy drinking and entertaining guests. And today, he was entering the palace accompanied by Haitang. Haitang had told him a few days ago that the Empress Dowager had invited him to the palace to discuss business.

For Fan Xian, drinking was a happy occasion, and to drink with the still-attractive Empress Dowager of an enemy nation wasn't too bad either. But after Fan Xian had returned to the diplomatic mission, all of the officials and subordinates knew that he was not in a good mood, but no one knew why.

In his chambers, Fan Xian gave Lin Jing a cold glare. "Who is the chief diplomat of this mission? Master Lin or I?"

Lin Jing felt uneasy. "Why are you asking such a thing, Master Fan?" he asked nervously. "You're in charge, of course."

"Good, good." Fan Xian laughed. "So, tell me, Master Lin, when I entered the palace today, why did the Empress Dowager inform me that the Great Prince of Qing was to be married to the princess of Northern Qi? Is that not quite a major event? Why was I not made aware of this at any point since setting off for this mission? Honglu Temple and Taichang Temple have arranged this marriage over these past few days. Was I meant only to learn of it when escorting the princess on our return trip to Qing?"

Lin Jing gave a sigh of relief, given that this was all that the problem was. "Sir," he said with a smile, "please don't blame Lin Wen and me. We simply passed on handwritten letters from the Empress Dowager of Qing, addressed to the Empress Dowager of Qi. As lowly officials, there was no way for us to know that the two women were arranging their children's marriage in their letters. When news came from the palace, what could we say? I wanted to inform you, sir, but you have not been in the mission over the past few days, so I haven't had the chance to do so."

Lin Jing rolled his eyes. He knew that the young man was angry, and he smiled as he passed him a letter. "The official proclamation will arrive soon. This is a secret letter from the royal court, explaining His Majesty and the Empress Dowager's position. Of course, they want this wedding to go ahead... In fact, there are two happy occasions to celebrate. Congratulations, Master Fan."

[1] "One-three-one-four-five-two-seven-seven-seven" is pronounced yi san yi si wu er qi qi qi. "All my life I love money, money, money" is pronounced yi sheng yi si wo ai qian qian qian.