Yan Prefecture’s bustling atmosphere was very different from that of the capital.

Situated on the border of the Daxuan Empire—and with both Goryeo and the northern grassland tribes under its domain—Yan Prefecture saw many merchants passing through, many of whom chose to rest and stay in the city for a time.

Over the years, this had given Yan Prefecture a distinctly exotic flair.

After entering the city, Fang Linyuan dismounted and made his way walking toward Shipu Alley.

Just upon entering the city, he saw many people clad in Goryeo or steppe attire moving to and fro. Occasionally, camels tinkled as they passed by him. In several shops, unique grassland woven tapestries and yak skulls hung prominently.

Shipu Alley was located on Ninggao Street, the main street of Yan Prefecture.

By now, dusk had fallen, and lanterns were lighting up all around. At a glance, everything seemed peaceful and lively.

But Fang Linyuan’s gaze quietly swept across the nearby shops and vendors.

Most were run by non-Han traders, selling cloth, furs, or tools. Food stalls, however, were rare. A foreign tavern nearby was nearly deserted, and a lamb vendor pushing a cart beside him had only sold two or three of his animals the whole day.

Among the passers-by, merchant caravans made up the bulk. They were likely travellers stopping to rest. As for the local Han commoners, many carried baskets or bags and walked with hurried steps—on closer look, it was clear they had just received their grain rations.

Fang Linyuan led his horse and observed silently as he went, slowly forming a clearer picture in his mind.

It was indeed true that Yan Prefecture had suffered a poor harvest and that the common people were weak and impoverished. But as a critical transportation hub with a constant flow of merchants and travellers, its trade flourished and its economy remained outwardly prosperous—obscuring any signs of hardship.

At this thought, a crease appeared faintly between Fang Linyuan’s brows.

For a trading hub so full of merchants, there shouldn’t have been a famine at all.

Goryeo cultivated rice and wheat. While the steppe tribes weren’t agricultural, they had numerous herders and sent countless cattle and sheep to Daxuan each year.

Most of the city’s residents made their living through trade. With such strong market flow and a diverse commercial structure, a single poor harvest shouldn’t have been enough to cause grain prices to collapse.

Fang Linyuan’s eyes darkened slightly. This was something he should definitely ask Zhao Chu about.

With that in mind, he quickened his pace toward Shipu Alley.

What he didn’t expect was—Shipu Alley turned out to be a flower district (NT: entertainment quarters where courtesans, singers, and prostitutes worked)

At the mouth of the alley stood a grand brothel with gauzy curtains billowing in the breeze. Deeper in, signs and doorways shimmered with suggestive charm. From within the alley came the sounds of operatic tunes; finely dressed men strolled in groups of two or three, and behind ornate doors, faint whispers of courtesans could be heard.

Fang Linyuan’s ears flushed red. Why would Zhao Chu choose this kind of place?

He looked around, but didn’t see the telltale golden beast mask.

Zhao Chu had said the alley entrance, right? If he went any farther in, Zhao Chu might not find him. With that thought, Fang Linyuan reluctantly stopped at the entrance.

“You all alone, young sir?” Just then, a charming voice sounded from behind him.

Fang Linyuan turned around to see a woman in gauzy silk. She looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties, radiating a perfectly ripe, alluring charm—like a vivid rhododendron blooming on a branch. She was clearly the madam of the brothel, stationed at the front to greet guests.

With strikingly seductive features, she gave Fang Linyuan one glance—enough for her eyes to all but drip with desire.

“Oh my, and you’ve even brought a horse. Young sir, are you from out of town?” she asked. “Here to enjoy yourself alone? If you don’t know the way, why not come upstairs with me? Every girl in our house can sing and dance—you’re free to pick whichever one you like.”

Fang Linyuan hastily took a step back, flustered. He honestly didn’t know how to deal with this kind of person. After all, outside of official duties, he’d never been to a place like this.

When handling official matters, he carried an imperial edict, had a dozen guards trailing behind him, and with just a flash of his command token, no one dared be anything but respectful—let alone flirtatiously tug at his sleeve like this.

Fang Linyuan stood motionless, hastily pulling back his sleeve and stiffly raising a hand to wave her off. “No need, I’m waiting for someone here.”

The woman seemed used to seeing young men like him—curious, but green and awkward, trying to come up with excuses for themselves. Besides, in a place like this, who would one be waiting for, if not a lover?

“It’s just a drink,” she said with a smile. “Why don’t you wait upstairs, little sir? When your friend comes, you can enjoy yourselves together—no harm in that…”

Just then, a calm female voice rang out behind her. “He’s waiting for me,” the voice said.

The woman turned around immediately and was surprised to see a tall, strikingly beautiful figure who had somehow approached without notice.

She was dressed in the attire of a foreign woman. Her long black hair was braided and adorned with a single piece of fine lapis lazuli on her forehead, and the gems in her hair chimed softly.

Her face was veiled with gauze, making it hard to tell whether she was Turkic or Loulan (NT: ancient kingdom located in what is now the western part of modern-day China). But beneath her long brows, a pair of seductive, fox-like eyes slanted upward—cold yet mesmerizing—as they gazed steadily at the brothel madam.

So she was waiting for her sweetheart.

*

The brothel madam, knowing better than to overstep, tactfully stepped aside. At that moment, Fang Linyuan and Zhao Chu, standing three steps apart, locked eyes.

He had dressed as a woman again!

Fang Linyuan had no time to question him or wonder why—he felt like a saviour had descended from the heavens. In a few hurried steps, he rushed up to Zhao Chu and stopped before him.

“You finally came!” he said. “I was scared half to death—your note didn’t have a time on it, and I thought I might’ve come too early. I didn’t know how long I’d have to fend them off!”

Beside him, Zhao Chu’s gaze slanted slightly as he looked over.

Zhao Chu truly was a remarkable person.

Fang Linyuan didn’t understand cosmetics or disguises, so he couldn’t appreciate the expert craftsmanship of Zhao Chu’s makeup. He just felt that whenever Zhao Chu turned around, it was like he wore an entirely different skin.

Those eyes, when they looked at him, were unmistakably Zhao Chu’s—but everything else radiated exotic charm. Who would ever believe he was actually Princess Huining, far away in the capital?

Truly a master illusionist—his reputation was well earned.

Fang Linyuan looked at Zhao Chu with such admiration that, for a moment, he completely forgot to watch where he was going.

The next moment, Zhao Chu’s arm hooked around his and suddenly pulled him to the side of the street.

A faint fragrance of foreign spices enveloped him. The arm linked with his was soft yet firm, like silken spider thread—gentle, but impossible to break free from—as if he were being wrapped up, layer by layer.

Stunned, Fang Linyuan looked up and saw that above Zhao Chu’s lowered lashes, the gold-dust shimmer of makeup sparkled like rays of twilight caught on his brow.

His heart thudded wildly in time with that glittering light.

Just then, a fast-moving carriage sped past them, brushing his hem and lifting it into the air.

“Watch yourself,” Zhao Chu said softly.

Fang Linyuan snapped out of his daze and finally came to his senses. His face flushed. “Ah—so close, I didn’t even notice.”

As he spoke, he tried to pull his arm back. But the hand resting on his arm didn’t move at all.

For a moment, it felt as if something had tied him there—he couldn’t pull away. And just like that, arm in arm with Zhao Chu, he was slowly led deeper into Shipu Alley.

"Why did you dress like this again?" Fang Linyuan tried to calm his racing heart as he searched for something to say to Zhao Chu.

"Jiang Huaqing has sent people to watch me," Zhao Chu said from beside him. "Tan Ji has also assigned people to follow you. If we meet in private, they’ll certainly be on guard."

Fang Linyuan nodded at that.

Once the conversation turned to official matters, his focus quickly returned, and his words to Zhao Chu came much more naturally.

"There’s something off with the Yanzhou military," he said in a low voice. "I made a round through the camp today. The soldiers were tight-lipped—most likely, Tan Ji already has Yanzhou entirely under his thumb."

As he spoke, he glanced toward Zhao Chu—and just happened to catch the evening breeze lifting his hair, the soft street lanterns casting light across the side of his face.

Fang Linyuan quickly averted his gaze, almost as if fleeing.

"But we don’t actually need them to say anything," he continued. "I inspected all the drill fields. At least two hundred of the soldiers were newly conscripted. I suspect they’ve taken the identities of those who starved to death. I’ve only done a rough pass for now, but give me two more days, and I’ll be able to map their deployment in the military."

Zhao Chu gave a soft hum of acknowledgment. "I oversaw grain distribution today. Based on the number of people in each household, I had everything registered," he said. "Any household with adult males absent wasn't included in the disaster relief quota. By the end of the day, we had ten or so families recorded with missing members."

"You mean..." Fang Linyuan’s eyes widened slightly.

Zhao Chu nodded. "They claim their men are out working or travelling, but nine times out of ten, they’ve been forced into the army."

Fang Linyuan asked, "Has Jiang Huaqing noticed?"

"Not yet," Zhao Chu replied, lowering his eyes. "Issuing grain by official household records is standard procedure. I pretended to be overly meticulous—he watched me for a while, but eventually dismissed it."

"That’s good," Fang Linyuan said. "Then… as long as we can identify the new recruits and match them against the grain registry, we can easily prove Tan Ji’s lying."

He paused, frowning slightly. "But… we still need to find a way to expose how they’ve been embezzling the grain. And as I walked through Yanzhou today, I also found something suspicious about this so-called famine."

Zhao Chu made a quiet sound of agreement beside him. "I’m already investigating that. You don’t need to worry—just focus on keeping Tan Ji occupied."

Fang Linyuan turned his head to look at him. "You already have a plan?" he asked.

"Tan Ji is only responsible for misappropriating and selling off supplies. For the actual selling and trading, he has to rely on people outside the military," Zhao Chu said.

"Besides, the worse the famine, the higher the price of grain. Their entire operation might be tied to the disaster itself."

Fang Linyuan froze slightly in place. Zhao Chu was implying… that even Yanzhou’s famine had been orchestrated by them? If that was true, then these corrupt officials not only held absolute power, but wielded it with terrifying precision.

"Then I…" He hesitated for a moment.

If this really was the case, how could he possibly step back and let Zhao Chu shoulder it alone?

But before he could voice that thought, Zhao Chu cast him a sidelong glance—sharp as a blade.

"Any further news, meet at the jujube grove on the north side of the camp at the hour of the dog (NT: 7-9 pm). Someone will be there to receive you," he said.

"Aside from that, just remember, the woman you met today came from an unknown place, a chance encounter. She is said to be named Ba Yan (NT: eight eyes), but nothing else is known."

His voice became so faint it was almost inaudible, like a breeze that passed by Fang Linyuan’s ear amidst the loud chatter.

Fang Linyuan paused, slightly stunned. Why bring this up all of a sudden?

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a tall, strong figure in armour, flanked by two soldiers, walking directly towards him.

It was Tan Ji.

Fang Linyuan’s brows furrowed slightly.

The next moment, Tan Ji’s loud laughter echoed across the street.

"General Fang, you're here!" Tan Ji said with a wide grin. "I heard from my men that you’ve entered the city, but why are you heading towards Stone Wharf Lane?"

Fang Linyuan looked up at him and saw Tan Ji walking straight toward him through the crowd.

The commander of Yanzhou’s garrison was indeed incredibly arrogant. He knew someone was following him, but he never expected Tan Ji to be so bold as to approach him in person like this.

It was as though he viewed Fang Linyuan as a mere insect, trying to provoke him, to see him angered, to make him wary.

Fang Linyuan’s thoughts paused.

If Tan Ji wanted to provoke him, the more arrogant he became, the better. The more reckless and arrogant he was, the more likely he would grow careless.

With this in mind, Fang Linyuan’s brows darkened, and he put on a displeased expression, mentally calculating how he should respond.

At that moment, he noticed Tan Ji’s gaze had shifted, looking with interest at Zhao Chu standing beside him.

The next moment, he felt a tightening around his arm. Fang Linyuan tilted his head slightly.

He saw Zhao Chu, with his arm tightly hooked around his, half of his body pressed against his arm.

Zhao Chu’s long, delicate lashes, glittering golden like peach blossoms, glanced ahead, then lowered slightly. His brows furrowed ever so slightly as he quickly turned his face away.

In a swift motion, Zhao Chu tilted his face just enough to show an expression of delicate embarrassment, with his features elegantly hidden behind Fang Linyuan.

The author has something to say:

Fang Linyuan: Oh wow, the miraculous Zhao Chu travels across Daxuan!

 

Translator : DarNan