The twilight was heavy.
Beside the earthen wall on the north side of the border market, a few vultures crouched on the wall, gnawing on dried meat strips. Hearing the sound of wagon ruts, they flapped their wings and flew away.
Zhao Si pulled back on the reins, raised a hand to wipe the dust from his face, and turned back to count his team.
Twelve personal guards had all changed into the coarse short tunics of an ordinary merchant caravan. The swords at their waists were wrapped inside their saddlebags; without a close look, no one could tell anything was amiss. Four horse-drawn carriages slowly approached, leaving deep rut marks. The wooden crates on the carriage beds were tightly covered with tarpaulins.
"Knock on the back door." Zhao Si jutted his chin toward the soldier beside him.
The soldier jumped off his horse, bounded over to the corner door of the Superintendent's Office's back wall in a few quick strides, clenched his fist, and pounded three times. Thump, thump, thump.
A rustling sound came from inside the door for a moment before the corner door opened halfway, and a lantern was thrust out through the gap.
Behind the lantern was Qian Fugui's pale, plump, and greasy face.
The dim yellow light swept over the caravan behind Zhao Si, as well as the men dressed as merchants, before finally landing on the bulging saddlebag at Zhao Si's waist.
Qian Fugui's pupils shrank slightly.
There was no green-curtained carriage, and Li Sheng had not come along.
Not even a single attendant from Xu Qinghuan's side had appeared.
Qian Fugui's lips moved, and just as the word "You" reached his teeth, a sudden numbness washed over the back of his head.
The few words Xu Qinghuan had said to him in the back hall of the Superintendent's Office when she left the border market a few days ago now felt like a red-hot branding iron, searing into his skull word by word.
Cold sweat trickled down the groove of his spine, soaking his inner shirt.
In the span of just two or three breaths, the strange expression on his face completely vanished.
His pale, plump face crinkled into its usual obsequious folds. He bowed and cupped his hands, his voice carrying just the right amount of attentiveness and caution.
"May I ask if you lords are... the Imperial Envoy's personal retinue?"
Zhao Si dismounted, strode forward, shoved aside Qian Fugui's arm that was blocking the doorway, and brazenly stepped over the threshold.
After planting his feet and standing firm, he placed his hands on his hips and swept his arrogant gaze around the courtyard.
"The Imperial Envoy caught a chill at the North Gate and is feeling unwell, so he specially sent us to take over this transaction."
As Zhao Si spoke, he held his chin high and did not lower his voice, as if afraid that those outside the courtyard walls would not hear him.
Qian Fugui followed behind him, holding the lantern low so that its halo only illuminated a small patch of ground at their feet.
His eyes darted rapidly in their sockets.
"Oh, so that's how it is." Qian Fugui rubbed his hands together, his face full of concern, but he deliberately softened his tone. "That is serious! The Imperial Envoy has a precious constitution; he must be carefully nursed back to health."
He paused for a beat, carefully craning his neck to look behind Zhao Si. His gaze swept over the dozen or so men outside the door before pulling back.
"It's just... why don't I see Commander Li accompanying you? For such a large transaction, without a central figure to take charge, this lowly one worries the Helian people will be difficult to deal with..."
Before he could finish his sentence.
With a crisp clang, Zhao Si drew his waist sword halfway out of its sheath.
The cold back of the blade slapped against Qian Fugui's shoulder, neither too lightly nor too heavily, making Qian Fugui's body sink down with it.
Zhao Si turned his face sideways, staring at him with a sinister gaze.
"Stop asking about things you shouldn't ask about."
The back of the blade pressed down another fraction on his shoulder.
"Does a seventh-rank Superintendent like you have the right to flap your gums about the Imperial Envoy's errands?"
Qian Fugui's legs gave way, and he dropped to his knees with a thud. The lantern nearly slipped from his grasp; he quickly propped himself up with one hand while desperately gripping the lantern pole with the other, firing off apologies like a string of firecrackers.
"Yes, yes, yes, this lowly one spoke out of turn, this lowly one deserves to die! You lords have traveled a long way and must be exhausted. I will arrange food and lodging right away, right away!"
Zhao Si snorted, returned his sword to its sheath, and patted Qian Fugui on the head.
"Alright, get up."
Qian Fugui scrambled to his feet, bowing his waist even lower. Carrying the lantern, he led the way, welcoming the group into the backyard.
The settling-in process was not complicated. Two of the three wing rooms in the backyard were cleared out, and the twelve guards split into two groups to rest. The four carriages were parked in the courtyard. Zhao Si specifically ordered his men to lock the wheels with iron chains and arranged two shifts for night watch in front of the carriages.
Throughout the process, Qian Fugui followed along with a bowed back, serving tea and pouring water, running back and forth while keeping up a steady stream of flattery.
Whatever Zhao Si ordered, he agreed to, without letting half an extra word slip out.
Only when Zhao Si waved him off to get lost did Qian Fugui feel as if he had been granted a grand pardon. Carrying his lantern, he retreated to his duty room.
As soon as the door closed, Qian Fugui leaned against the door panel and slowly slid down to sit on the floor. He set the lantern by his feet, its candle flame flickering a few times.
He closed his eyes, and Xu Qinghuan's words from yesterday echoed in his ears once more.
He did not dare to forget a single word.
...
At the end of the Yin hour the next day, while the sky was still dark, a thick fog surged over from the direction of the border river.
This fog was not a sheer veil like usual, but rather heavy clusters like cotton wadding, pressing down over the border market and swallowing everything beyond thirty feet.
Qian Fugui carried his lantern and jogged all the way to the door of the wing room where Zhao Si was resting.
Bang!
The door panel rattled loudly as it was kicked. Zhao Si sprang up from the bed board with a swift flip, a short sword already gripped in his hand.
"Who is it!"
"Master Zhao! It's me!"
Qian Fugui slipped into the room, the panic on his face entirely genuine.
"The thick fog is blotting out the sky here, and there are many people and mixed eyes at the border pass. When those carriages came through the back door last night, who knows how many pairs of eyes were already watching."
He lowered his voice, speaking extremely fast.
"Master Zhao, hurry up and hit the road while the fog is thick! There are all sorts of people in this border market—Helian spies, informants from the three great merchant houses, hidden agents from the Commander-in-Chief's estate. The commotion you made coming in last night wasn't small. If you delay any longer, I'm afraid the news won't be contained!"
Zhao Si picked his teeth, leaning lazily against the edge of the bed in a nonchalant manner.
"What's the rush? Where is the handover spot?"
"Wild Fox Beach!" Qian Fugui answered crisply. "Go out the North Gate of the market and walk twenty miles west along the border river. The terrain at that riverbank is open, and merchant caravans from both countries usually hand over large shipments of goods there."
Zhao Si's brows furrowed instinctively.
He had heard of Wild Fox Beach. Although the terrain was open there, precisely because it was open, there was no cover in any direction.
If a dispute arose during the handover, one wouldn't even be able to find a dirt mound to hide behind.
Furthermore, the opposite bank of the border river was Helian territory. What if the Helian cavalry suddenly turned hostile...
His fingers rubbed against the hilt of his short sword twice.
But on second thought, Lord He had entrusted this errand to him because Lord He was still counting on him to transport the grain back.
If the grain didn't return, the army's food supply would be cut off. If the food supply was cut off, there would be a mutiny. If a mutiny occurred, Lord He would be finished too.
Therefore, Lord He would never cut off his own path to survival.
Zhao Si's brows relaxed.
With a pfft, he spat out the toothpick in his mouth, stood up, patted the wrinkles on his robe, and yelled out the door.
"Everyone up! Hitch the wagons!"
The courtyard immediately erupted in a flurry of chaotic activity.
Qian Fugui stood under the corridor, watching the dozen or so men scrambling to unlock the chains, hitch the horses, and move the wooden crates. From time to time, he interjected to offer a few pointers on the route and directions. Zhao Si no longer acted fiercely toward him, casually acknowledging his words.
As the four carriages filed out of the back gate, the dense fog grew even heavier. The light from the lanterns was swallowed by the mist into a blurry yellow halo, and beyond three paces, absolutely nothing could be seen.
Zhao Si vaulted onto his horse and glanced back at Qian Fugui, who was shrinking against the doorframe.
You are coming too.
Qian Fugui froze.
Master Zhao, I am but a lowly supervisor. This kind of life-and-death work...
Cut the nonsense. Zhao Si interrupted him, pointing his riding crop in his direction. How many years have you been at this border market? You know the rules of the Helian people inside and out. When we arrive at Wild Fox Beach, the procedures for the handover and the methods for weighing the goods all need your supervision. If you do not go, who will?
Qian Fugui opened his mouth, then closed it again.
He lowered his head, clenched his fists inside his sleeves, and stepped over the threshold.
As you command.
The convoy disappeared into the dense fog. The sounds of galloping hooves and rolling carriage wheels faded into the distance, swallowed completely by the heavy mist.
Outside the north gate of the border market, toward the boundary river.
The fog was even thicker here.
A line of ponies trod over the gravel of the riverbank. Their hooves were wrapped in leather, emitting only a muffled thudding sound as they struck the ground. The rider on the leading piebald horse was wrapped in a dusty gray woolen cloak, the hood pulled so low that their face was completely obscured.
Behind followed over thirty riders. Their formation was loose, yet every man had a scimitar hanging at his waist and coils of hemp rope tied behind his saddle.
The men of the Helian faction were also making their way toward Wild Fox Beach.
