Chapter 008
Chapter 8: No Different from Bandits
At night, a shadow slipped in through the inn’s back door and slid into the accounting room. In a few breaths, the candle went out, and the quiet returned.
Early the next morning, before the shopkeeper got up, noisy voices rose downstairs. He pulled the quilt over his head, wanting more sleep, when someone knocked: “Shopkeeper, the yamen sent men.”
The shopkeeper jolted upright, rushed into his clothes, and opened the door: “What happened?”
“That guest from yesterday reported to the yamen. Said he lost banknotes in our inn. The yamen sent people to check.”
“That dog picked the wrong day,” the shopkeeper muttered as he went downstairs, straightening his clothes. Anyone who could run an inn at Northern Fortress Pass wasn’t soft. Yesterday’s guest wore fine clothes and looked like a fat sheep. Nobles or not, anyone who came to Northern Fortress Pass had to bow to him.
“Officials, you’re up early. Hard work,” he said as soon as he reached the ground floor, piling on the smile. While talking, he gripped one runner’s hand and slipped a banknote into it.
The yamen runner cleared his throat and hid the note without a ripple: “Someone says he lost banknotes here. We can’t ignore it.”
“Of course. We’re honest traders. Please investigate and clear our name,” said the shopkeeper, guiding the two runners to sit.
As the victim, Duan Yi Chen had taken a seat in the teahouse across the street very early, playing attendant beside Xia Meng Yan: “Waiter, what is this tea? It tastes odd. Change it. Bring a few pastries that aren’t sweet.”
“Please wait a moment, honored guests. I’ll bring them right away,” said the waiter. The shop had just opened when a big client came and asked for the best room upstairs, so the waiter hurried down to prepare.
For two days, Xia Meng Yan had little appetite. She hadn’t slept well last night either. Her mood wasn’t steady. When she saw the shopkeeper pass money to the yamen runner, she guessed it at once: “Tell our people downstairs to spread the word that it was General Lin’s brother-in-law who lost the banknotes,” she said.
Guard Song nodded and went.
Duan Yi Chen grumbled: “Why that turtle’s brother-in-law? He’d like that, but I don’t.”
“First, this is Northern Fortress Pass, and Lin Ye Lan serves under Marshal Huo. Using his name works better than using yours,” said Xia Meng Yan, rubbing her temples until the ache cleared a little. “Second, we don’t know who’s behind the inn. If we reveal ourselves, they might take revenge. Let them go after Lin Ye Lan instead.”
At the word “revenge,” Duan Yi Chen’s irritation vanished: “Good idea. Best if it kills Lin Ye Lan.”
She shot him a look, helpless. Ever since he knew she liked Lin Ye Lan, Duan Yi Chen had never said a good word about the man. If he wasn’t calling him a dog, he was wishing him dead. Anyone who didn’t know better would think Lin Ye Lan had dug up his ancestors’ graves.
“This trick will last at most two days. We still need to leave fast,” she said. Counting the time, Wang Mang’s side should be almost done. At the latest, the person would be delivered tonight. She did not want to stay at Northern Fortress Pass a moment longer.
Just then, people on the street shouted: “You dared to mess with General Lin’s brother-in-law? You must be looking for death!”
“Right! I’ve long heard this inn wasn’t clean. Now they kicked an iron plate.”
Hearing “General Lin,” the yamen runners grew careful. What seemed like easy money had hidden thorns. “Shopkeeper, be honest. Was the theft done by someone inside your inn?” one asked.
“Officials, you wrong us. No. I already asked my people. They all said they saw nothing,” said the shopkeeper.
At that moment, Guard Song came across and addressed the two runners: “My master is on the second floor across the street. He says our banknotes are marked. Search, and you’ll find them.”
The shopkeeper stiffened at the word “marked,” but forced a smile: “All banknotes look the same. What mark? Is your honored guest trying to make trouble in muddy water?”
“One glance will tell,” said Guard Song, calm as stone.
The two yamen runners exchanged a look and nodded: “We have work to do. Shopkeeper, take out the banknotes from the counter. Now.”
From the upstairs window, Xia Meng Yan looked across and met the shopkeeper’s gaze. He wasn’t stupid. He knew there was a trap here. But with so many people watching, he couldn’t play rough out in the open. He went behind the counter with a grim face and took out the banknotes beneath.
Duan Yi Chen’s banknotes were there, but so were the past few days’ takings.
The shopkeeper handed them to the runners: “Look, officials. Banknotes don’t talk. How do you say they’re his?”
Guard Song stepped up and raised his voice: “My young master likes to play. Any banknote he touches, he draws two little strokes on it.” He picked one up to show the crowd. “Here. See? It looks like a small pendant.”
The onlookers leaned in. It was true.
“I heard that lord lost five thousand taels. This shop is too black.”
“Yeah. That much money could feed us for years.”
The shopkeeper’s mind went blank. A pendant mark? He flipped through the stack fast and saw it—on every note. A circle with a tiny tail, simple but unique. How could this be?
Wait. Why are there so many with the mark? If he counted it out, he’d have to pay out an extra three thousand taels beyond the stolen sum.
“T-this doesn’t prove they’re yours,” he said, a chill along his spine. He understood now: he’d walked into a trap. But this wasn’t the time to scold himself. Three thousand taels was no small matter. How would he explain to his backer if he paid it?
“I want to see your master.”
“Master is waiting upstairs,” said Guard Song, stepping aside.
The shopkeeper hurried straight to the teahouse across the street.
From afar, Duan Yi Chen saw the shopkeeper’s ashen face and laughed so hard he almost fell over: “Serves him right. Dare to steal from me?”
“Don’t celebrate too early. He knows you’re General Lin’s brother-in-law and still wants to meet you,” said Xia Meng Yan. “Telling them your identity was only a test.”
This section continues on the next page.
The Huo Family’s army could act like local emperors here only if their pay didn’t run short. At first, Xia Meng Yan had wondered why the Court kept squeezing the army’s pay at Northern Fortress Pass while Marshal Huo didn’t seem to care. After seeing how the shopkeeper moved, she had a bold guess: this town robbed travelers in secret and used the dirty money to feed the Huo forces. The inn was one of the dens.
Upstairs, the shopkeeper met Duan Yi Chen and Xia Meng Yan and spoke straight: “A great river flooded the Dragon King Temple. One family failed to recognize one another. My underlings were blind and made this lord suffer. I have one hundred taels here as an apology. Let’s call it even today. What do you think?”
Duan Yi Chen almost leaped to his feet. A hundred taels to send off a beggar?
Xia Meng Yan stopped him and gave the shopkeeper a small, polite smile: “You’re joking. If we’re one family, how could we take it? But tell me this: does General Lin know what you’re doing?”
Lin Ye Lan didn’t like her, but he was loyal to the Court and respected Marshal Huo. If he learned that the marshal he respected was running robberies in secret, no better than bandits, would he feel disappointed?
The shopkeeper blinked, then smiled with a strange meaning: “And who might you be, madam?”
“General Lin’s madam.”
“Oh, so you’re the madam. My apologies,” he said, not doubting her at all. In Northern Fortress, anyone who dared to lie to him wouldn’t see tomorrow’s sun. “As for the army camp, madam should not speak too much. General Lin is very busy. He doesn’t need to know about little matters like this.”
“Tsk,” thought Xia Meng Yan. He was using Lin Ye Lan’s career to threaten her. Before, she might have agreed to keep quiet. Now, she couldn’t wait for Lin Ye Lan to lose everything.
“If the shopkeeper says so, then forget the banknotes. Consider them tea money for the soldiers,” she said.
Xia Meng Yan stood and left with Duan Yi Chen. As soon as she climbed into the carriage, she ordered in a rush: “Back to the inn. Pack up. We’re leaving.”