"To catch a spy, you must think like a spy."
"If I were the head of the Jing Dynasty's Military Intelligence Bureau, what kind of person would I turn in the prince's mansion to be my spy?"
Chen Ji sat on the bed, propping his chin with his hand, silently analyzing:
"Not a guard. Guards can't enter the inner quarters."
"... The doctors and apprentices from Taiping Medical Hall can not only interact with outsiders but also have access to the inner quarters."
Chen Ji froze: "Could I really be a Jing Dynasty spy?!"
He seriously considered this possibility:
He had once appeared at Zhou Chengyi's residence in the middle of the night.
The first time he met the steward, the steward already knew he was a medical hall apprentice, which meant his original self had visited the Zhou residence more than once.
Alum is often used as medicine, and Taiping Medical Hall has it.
If he were a Jing Dynasty spy, the alum in Zhou Chengyi's residence would have a source...
Hiss!
Chen Ji took a sharp breath.
Wait, no, no.
According to the intelligence Zhou Chengyi passed on, the spy should have already met the important figure in the prince's mansion, and both sides confirmed their sincerity.
That's why the head of the Military Intelligence Bureau planned to head south.
But when he went to Wanxing Garden for a consultation earlier, and when Chun Rong wanted to beat him to death, Consort Yun stood up to leave, and Consort Jing remained silent and indifferent.
If he hadn't actively sought survival, he might have died in Wanxing Garden that day.
If he were a Jing Dynasty spy, at least one of these two important figures should have protected him.
Chen Ji quietly got up, opened the shared wardrobe, and searched through everyone's clothes, even checking the collars and cuffs, looking for any hidden items.
However, he found no clues.
Chen Ji then crouched down and, in the dim light, ran his fingers along the bricks of the bed, carefully feeling each one.
Huh.
He noticed that one brick was slightly raised by about two millimeters, and the surrounding clay was loose.
Chen Ji used his fingernails to grip the edges of the brick and slowly pulled it out.
Behind the brick, someone had hollowed out a small hole, hiding five silver ingots!
What?!
One ingot weighs ten taels, something a medical hall apprentice should never possess unless funded by the Jing Dynasty's Military Intelligence Bureau.
Earlier, when Chen Ji suspected the spy was in the medical hall, he laughed at himself for being paranoid.
But when he actually saw the evidence, he couldn't help but take a deep breath.
Are these silver ingots She Dengke's? Or Liu Quxing's?
...
Or his own?
Chen Ji put the silver ingots and the brick back in place and returned to bed without a word.
...
...
Early morning, before the rooster crowed, Old Man Yao, who was sleeping on the bed, was awakened by the noise in the yard.
He put on his black cloth shoes with white soles, walked slowly to the door with his hands behind his back.
In the yard, Chen Ji was quietly pouring the water he had just fetched into the water vat.
Old Man Yao looked at Liu Quxing, who was sleeping on the kitchen stove, and then at the energetic Chen Ji, frowning: "... Did you tire him out?"
Chen Ji: "... No, Senior Brother Liu just fell asleep."
Old Man Yao pursed his lips: "The rooster hasn't crowed yet, and you're already making noise to wake me up. Maybe you should crow instead of the rooster."
Chen Ji smiled, not taking his master's words to heart.
He was slowly getting used to the old man's sharp tongue: "Master, I'm going to fetch water. I'll fill the vat before the rooster crows, so it won't delay your morning lecture."
With that, he rolled up his sleeves, picked up the shoulder pole, and walked out.
But before Chen Ji could reach the door, the sound of a bell rang in the distance, clear and melodious, growing closer.
Old Man Yao frowned and quickly stepped forward, pulling Chen Ji back into the house before he could leave.
Chen Ji was yanked back two steps, the shoulder pole and buckets swaying.
The next moment, a procession carrying a solemn Buddha statue passed through Anxi Street in the dawn light.
Thirty-two monks in gray robes, bare-chested, steadily carried a massive Sumeru pedestal.
Beside the pedestal, a monk held a bronze bell in his left hand and incense in his right.
Occasionally, he struck the bell with the incense, creating dazzling sparks and clear sounds.
The incense burned continuously, the sparks shooting up like a fiery tree with silver flowers, resembling a dragon's dance.
Chen Ji whispered: "Master, why did you pull me back..."
Old Man Yao said expressionlessly: "Don't ask."
Chen Ji stood shoulder to shoulder with Old Man Yao, silently watching the procession of monks slowly pass by Taiping Medical Hall.
As he watched, he suddenly took a step back.
For a moment, it seemed the Buddha statue had glanced at him, its gaze indifferent yet with a hint of compassion.
At that moment, Liu Quxing was also awakened by the bell and came over.
He looked at the procession: "It's the monks from Tuoluo Temple in the south of the city. Who has the means to hire the Buddha for a procession through Luocheng on the Double Ninth Festival?"
Chen Ji hesitated for a moment and asked: "Master, do gods and Buddhas really exist in this world?"
Liu Quxing quickly answered: "Of course! Two years ago, in Liu Village outside the city, a man's mother was seriously ill. He knelt before the Buddha during the procession and prayed, and his mother was cured on the spot!"
Chen Ji was skeptical.
He knew many religions used miracles to attract followers.
Liu Quxing continued: "Also, I remember three years ago, in the west of Luocheng, there was a filial son whose parents died of the plague. He went to Tuoluo Temple in the south of the city to pray, donated all his wealth, land deeds, and ancestral property, and asked Abbot Yun to hold a Water and Land Dharma Assembly to offer to the Buddhas."
"What happened?"
"His parents came back to life, and the plague disappeared, though they were bedridden and couldn't move," Liu Quxing replied.
Chen Ji frowned and turned to Old Man Yao: "Master, is what Senior Brother Liu said true?"
Old Man Yao, with his hands behind his back, casually nodded: "When his parents were brought to me, they were already on their deathbed. I told him to take them away, so they wouldn't die in the medical hall and ruin my reputation."
Liu Quxing muttered: "Master, you said at the time that they couldn't be saved, so it was better to save money for the living..."
Old Man Yao ignored him and continued: "His parents died in front of me, so when I heard they had come back to life, I went to see for myself. The old couple was indeed alive, but they were bedridden and unconscious, with pulse, heartbeat, and breathing intact."
Chen Ji was stunned.
What about his own parents...
Old Man Yao sneered: "But what's the point of living like that? It's better to let them go in peace."
Chen Ji suddenly pressed: "Master, is there a way to truly bring the dead back to life?"
Old Man Yao glanced at him: "There's a rumor that the current Grand Secretary Xu Gong's son died in an accident. Xu Gong spent a fortune to ask the abbot of Yuanjue Temple to use a Seven Treasure Lotus Lamp to recreate his son's body, allowing him to live again."
"Is his son still alive?"
"Yes, he's the current Deputy Director of the Imperial Observatory, Xu Shu."
Chen Ji's mind felt like a giant axe had cleaved through the fog and chaos, instantly becoming clear.
He had already been reborn once.
If this world truly had a way to bring the dead back to life, could he one day find his way home and revive his parents?
Earn money.
Cultivate.
Chen Ji's heart burned with determination.
To cultivate, he could no longer avoid the ice flow.
He had to figure out what the ice flow was, how it was generated, and how to obtain it!
By the time the procession of monks disappeared at the end of Anxi Street, the sky was gradually brightening.
The neighbors, no longer sleepy, had already taken down their door panels and were cheerfully greeting each other, setting up their stalls early on the street.
Chen Ji didn't return to the backyard.
He picked up the shoulder pole and headed towards the well.
A young man carrying a load of firewood came towards him, hawking his wares.
As they passed each other, Chen Ji stopped and grabbed him: "Tell Lord Yunyang, I need to go to the inner prison."
The young man looked startled: "What are you talking about, Doctor Chen? I don't understand."
Chen Ji calmly said: "A firewood seller who walks the streets, exposed to wind and sun, wouldn't have such a fair complexion like a spy. And a firewood seller wouldn't linger on just one street all day without selling a single load. If you were a Jing Dynasty spy, you wouldn't look so arrogant; you'd be cautious. Go tell Lord Yunyang, I need to check the prisoners and records in the inner prison. Maybe I can help him earn some new merits."
With that, he turned and walked away to fetch water.
Chen Ji hadn't just noticed the firewood seller's odd behavior today.
He had known since the day he sat on the medical hall's threshold waiting for his parents to bring his tuition money.
And the reason he wanted to go to the inner prison, a place others avoided like the plague, was simple:
Where do the most wrongfully accused people die?
The inner prison of the Spy Bureau.
The firewood seller slowly put away his smile, staring at Chen Ji's retreating figure.
He had thought his disguise was perfect, but it seemed the other had seen through him long ago, quietly watching his clumsy performance.
The next moment, the firewood seller dropped his load and shoulder pole, turned, and strode away.
(End of Chapter)