The bustling prosperity of Wuwei Prefecture was far beyond Lena Sanders's expectations.
Harris Ma and Jack Golden tied their horses behind the carriage and followed closely beside her, turning their heads this way and that. Jack clicked his tongue, exclaiming that this place was far livelier than Riverford City, to which Harris scoffed that it still couldn't compare with Castleton.
The group turned from the main street into a side alley and selected a clean, well-kept inn to lodge in.
It was still early in the afternoon when they settled down. Once everything was arranged, Lena Sanders ordered, "You two—go out and ask around. Find out which great families hold influence here in Wuwei Prefecture—who holds office, who has talent, what reputations they have. Learn as much as you can."
"Got it!" both men answered at once.
Lena and Darren Chang headed east along the main street while Harris and Jack went west.
"Beyond the river is Southland," Darren murmured, glancing at the tavern signboards that advertised river fish and porpoise. "If we travel here from Castleton, won't people start thinking too much? We've got several boats, after all."
"Hmm?" Lena paused, then smiled. "Oh, don't overthink it. Whether they speculate or not doesn't depend on where we go—it's their thoughts, not ours. And we can't control what's beyond our reach, so why bother? How about porpoise for dinner?"
She tilted her head, studying the row of signs boasting of "river fish and porpoise."
"Sure," Darren replied, his tone light. Then he muttered, "I just wonder what it costs."
"We've made our fortune. There's only one great mission left—to eat and drink well. Whatever the price, do you think we can't afford it?" Lena said, casting him a sidelong glance.
"That's true," Darren chuckled, patting his chest in agreement.
After asking around, they learned that the best river delicacies were served at Wangjiang Pavilion. Leaving word at the inn, they headed there directly. With a few taels of silver and a bit of persuasion through the tea master, they managed to secure a table.
They had only enjoyed two or three cups of tea before Harris and Jack returned.
As always, Lena gave a simple wave and commanded, "Bring one of everything on the menu—and two plates each of the river fish and porpoise!"
The tea master, accustomed to wealthy patrons, merely responded crisply and had tea and snacks brought up.
"The largest family in Wuwei is the Wang family," Harris began after the tea master left. "After them are the Cao, Li, Wei, and Wu clans—"
"Tell me about the Wangs," Lena interrupted.
"They're the most powerful—outshining all others!" Harris declared, raising his thumb.
Lena nearly choked on her tea. That phrasing—good heavens!
"The Wang family currently has two living jinshi, six juren, and twenty or thirty xiucai! A household truly—uh—teeming with people!"
Lena nearly choked again. "Speak properly! Don't just throw words around!"
Jack burst out laughing, though he wasn't quite sure which part Harris had misused.
"Boss, you're right to scold me. What are you laughing at?" Harris glared at him, then continued, "They say the Assistant Minister of Revenue, Sun Zhou, is married into the Wang family. Of the two jinshi, one is named Wang Anshi—an old man now, nearly seventy—serving as Grain Transport Commissioner in Qin Feng Province.
"The other, Wang Qingxi, is of the next generation, Prefect of Qingzhou in Jingdong East Circuit. He's not young either—nearly sixty, they say. Right, Jack?"
Jack nodded repeatedly to confirm.
"The current patriarch is Wang Qingmin, Wang Qingxi's elder brother and Wang Anshi's nephew.
"And Wang Qingxi's eldest son—the ninth young master, Wang Yishu—is said to be a brilliant scholar. Just returned from Qingzhou for the autumn examinations."
Lena listened carefully, then hummed softly.
"Next is the Cao family—" Harris began, but Lena raised her hand. "No need. Knowing the foremost house is enough. What about the Wang family's reputation?"
Darren cast her a quick glance.
"All good—very good!" Harris nodded eagerly. "The city's largest academy, the Wang Family Charity School, educates poor children free of charge and even feeds them two meals a day, as long as they pass monthly exams. They even run a girls' school!
"Outside the city is a Wang family academy, famous across the province. It's full of classics and ancient texts—free tuition for those who pass the entrance exam.
"As for the Cao family—their ancestral motto says: 'If you cannot be a virtuous minister, be a virtuous physician.' The old patriarch, Cao the Grandmaster, is a renowned healer across the realm. Every day he opens his clinic for one hour, right down this very street—offering free consultations, even giving medicine to the poorest.
"The Li family," Harris continued animatedly, "are famed for their respect toward the elderly—"
He spoke on and on, through tea and dishes of cold fish, until the tea master returned with more plates.
Darren glanced once more at Lena, who explained calmly, "Our business will inevitably involve the local gentry—especially in Wuwei and Yangzhou. We might even have to cooperate with them, so we must first understand who's who."
Darren nodded, then quietly turned to focus on the fish before him.
Of the two platters of porpoise and river fish, Lena and the others shared one; Darren ate the other alone.
The next morning, Darren went to inspect Lujiang and Chaoxian counties under Wuwei's jurisdiction, while Lena, Harris, and Jack began their rounds in town—starting from the Cao family's clinic. After a full day's tour, they returned to Wangjiang Pavilion.
That day, a literary gathering was being held there, hosted by several young scholars of the Wang family—including the ninth young master, Wang Yishu himself.
The establishment had been reserved by the Wangs days in advance, but Lena slipped a bit of silver to the same tea master, who led them quietly to a secluded room on the second floor.
She pushed open the window just a crack and stood by, peering down.
Below, the hall was bustling. At the center stood a large desk surrounded by a crowd of scholars in long robes. The one seated in the middle wore a dark blue brocade robe—about twenty-six or twenty-seven years old, short and slightly plump, not exactly unattractive.
He spoke with animation, picked up a brush, dipped it in ink, and wrote a line of calligraphy before handing the brush to a tall, thin scholar beside him.
Jack slipped downstairs and soon came running back up, pointing eagerly. "That one—the short, round fellow in the dark blue robe—that's the ninth young master, Wang Yishu."
Lena nodded, watched for a while longer, then sat down again. The three of them quietly finished another meal of river fish, then left by the back door.
After resting in Wuwei for two more days, they set out for Yangzhou.
They spent two days there as well, then traveled northward, crossing Huaiyang, turning northeast through Yizhou and Mizhou, on to Dengzhou, before looping back toward Laizhou and Qingzhou.
At each stop, they lingered a day or two, taking in the sights.
By the time they reached Qingzhou, it was midday. They spent one night at an inn and explored the next day. Evening had just fallen when Lena stood by the window, gazing at the dim sky.
"I'm going to the Prefecture Office," she said quietly, turning to Darren. "I'll leave around the second watch—won't take more than an hour."
"What? The Prefecture Office—" Harris began, startled, but Darren silenced him with a firm hand.
"Watch your mouth. Where's your composure?" Jack took the chance to smack him lightly on the back.
"Be careful," Darren said to Lena, concern buried beneath his calm tone.
"Don't worry. You all rest. We leave early tomorrow," Lena instructed.
Darren nodded, and the men retired to their rooms.
Lena sat still for a while, then blew out the lamp. She pushed open the window and perched beneath it, her feet resting on the sill as she gazed at the murky night sky.
From afar came the hollow sound of the watchman's clappers marking the second watch. Lena rose, changed clothes, wrapped her head and face in black cloth, and leapt silently from the window into the dark alley behind the inn.
A crescent moon drifted behind shifting clouds, casting faint light upon the sleeping city of Qingzhou.
Moving swiftly through the dim alleyways, Lena reached the corner near the Prefecture Office. Hidden in shadow, she waited for a passing cloud to dim the moonlight, then slipped through the gates and over the wall via a nearby tree.
Inside, the compound was silent. Lena kept to the eaves, moving quietly toward the front hall.
Only one room glowed with lamplight. She crept closer, pressed herself against the wall, and touched the papered window. Moistening her fingertip, she gently pierced the paper and peered in.
Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with scrolls and official documents.
Behind a heavy desk sat an elderly, stout man of about sixty, engrossed in writing.
Lena narrowed her eyes. Though she saw only his profile, the resemblance was unmistakable—the same features as Wang Yishu of Wuwei. This must be Wang Qingxi, the Prefect of Qingzhou.
She sighed inwardly. Even forty years younger, he could not compare to Lord Ye in the slightest.
She slipped around to the door.
It was half open; a servant sat slumped against the frame, nodding off.
Lena retreated to the corner, lit a stick of sedative incense, and returned to crouch beside the door, fanning the smoke toward the sleeping servant's nose.
The man's head drooped lower and lower. When she judged the time right, she waved the smoke away, extinguished the incense, and fixed her gaze on the lone candle inside.
With a muffled thud, the servant's head struck the door as he dozed off. At the same instant, Lena loosed a small crossbow—the tiny bolt snuffed the candle and buried itself in the bookshelf behind Wang Qingxi.
Darkness enveloped the room.
"Xiaorui!" Wang Qingxi called out, irritation in his tone.
Before his voice had fully sounded, Lena was inside. Two quick steps—one blow to knock the servant unconscious, and then the silken cord looped tight around Wang Qingxi's throat.
"Don't move. Don't speak. Or I'll strangle you where you sit," she hissed in his ear.
"Who are you? What do you want? I am—"
"I know who you are—Wang Qingxi, Prefect of Qingzhou." She tightened the cord slightly; his breath caught. "I ask, you answer. If I say nothing, you stay silent."
He raised a trembling hand halfway, then let it fall to the desk, nodding repeatedly.
"How did my aunt die?" Lena's voice was low, cold, each word bitten out through her teeth.
"Your… your aunt?" Wang Qingxi stammered.
"You vile creature—you defiled her, drove her to death—and now you dare ask who she was? Have you already forgotten?"
Her voice trembled with fury.
"If you've forgotten, fine—then tell me how many girls you've forced, how many you've destroyed! Speak! One by one!"
"You must be mistaken," Wang Qingxi said quickly, though his fear was growing. "I have never taken any girl by force—never harmed anyone."
"Mistaken?" Lena let out a sharp laugh. "Very well—then name them. Your concubines, your maids—how did they come to you? How did they die? I've traced every clue to find you here. Lie once, and I'll tighten this cord."
"I—I'm not a man of lust!" he gasped. "I've loved only my books! My sight is poor—I can't tell faces five steps away! I—uh—"
The cord drew tight again; he choked.
"Fine, fine! I'll speak! My first concubine, Madam Zhang, was a maid who served me since childhood. She died in childbirth—both mother and child gone. The second, Madam Huang, came with my wife's dowry. She bore a daughter and still lives in the rear courtyard. That's all! Which one was your aunt?"
He panted heavily, anger and fear trembling through his voice.
"Lies! Do you take me for a fool?" Lena snarled, pulling the cord sharply. Chair and man toppled backward together.
"I only want the truth—tell me how my aunt died. If you do, I'll spare you. Defy me, and I'll end you now."
Wang Qingxi's eyes bulged; he pushed helplessly against the heavy desk, unable to break free. Just before he lost consciousness, Lena released the cord.
"Speak."
"I swear—I've done nothing! I love books, not beauty! My sight is poor—I cannot even see clearly! Ask anyone—you may inquire freely! I was born in Wuwei, served as county magistrate in Ru and Wei counties before coming here to Qingzhou. Ask whoever you wish! Tell me—what was your aunt's name? Who was she? What happened?"
His voice quavered with terror and outrage, his whole body shaking violently.
Lena watched him for a moment, eyes unreadable, then struck him deftly on the neck to knock him out. She pocketed the silk cord, retrieved her arrow, and slipped silently into the night.
The next morning, the four travelers packed their belongings, ate breakfast, and left Qingzhou at a leisurely pace.
After half an hour on the road, Darren glanced at Lena, who was cracking melon seeds beside him, and asked quietly, "Nothing happened, right?"
"Nothing," Lena replied, knowing he was referring to her visit to the Prefecture Office. "Just an old debt of Zhanlu's. Since we passed by, I paid it a visit."
Darren looked at her, gave a low grunt of acknowledgment, and asked no more.
The group rested two days in Jinan, then continued northward—back toward Castleton.