In the noodle shop, a massive pot sat on a large stove, steaming with white vapor.
The noodle master held a lump of dough on his shoulder with one hand, while the other hand wielded a blade, slicing the dough into thin strips that flew into the pot like a hidden swordsman from the martial world.
The noodles were just the right thickness.
Once served in a bowl, a ladle of tender beef and broth was poured over them.
Simple, yet delicious.
The fire from the stove and the rising smoke embodied the most humble and earthly charm of the mortal world.
The young master waved to the shop attendant: "Hey, bring me a bowl of knife-cut noodles."
The attendant recognized him and smiled: "Sure thing, young master! It'll be ready in a moment!"
Chen Ji was surprised: "Young master, the attendant here knows you?"
The young master sat down at a wooden table in the shop, casually wiping the table with his finely tailored sleeve: "I used to come here often before I went to Donglin Academy. Even when I was at the academy, I often craved this taste."
"You're a young master, why would you come to such a small noodle shop to eat?"
The young master pulled a pair of chopsticks from the wooden bucket on the table: "In the prince's mansion, it takes a full stick of incense's time for food to travel from the kitchen to my room. By the time it reaches me, it's cold. When I was a kid, I said I wanted to eat in the kitchen, but they said it was improper... Not like here, where the noodles are served piping hot. Add some vinegar, break a couple of garlic cloves, and it's just perfect."
"The shop attendant doesn't seem to care about your status as a young master either."
The young master laughed proudly: "My father taught us to be kind to others and not to act high and mighty. Haven't you noticed how much the neighbors like me? That's the reputation my father has built over more than a decade in Luocheng!"
Chen Ji didn't press further.
In a world where people were divided into strict social hierarchies, such a young master and Prince Jing were indeed unusual.
The attendant brought the young master's knife-cut noodles to the table.
The young master rubbed his chopsticks, poured some vinegar into the bowl, and glanced at Bai Li: "Bai Li, give him ten taels of silver. That half-line of poetry is mine now... Bai Li?"
Bai Li snapped out of her thoughts: "What?"
The young master asked curiously: "What were you thinking about just now? You seemed lost in thought."
"Oh," Bai Li replied, "I was thinking about that half-line of poetry Chen Ji just mentioned... I can't quite put my finger on why, but it feels very evocative."
The young master smiled: "Same here. I think it's good too, but I can't explain why. Pay up."
Bai Li glanced at Chen Ji, and this time she didn't seem reluctant.
She quickly opened her purse and took out a golden melon seed: "Here, this is pure gold. You can exchange it for ten taels of silver at the bank."
Chen Ji found it amusing.
This Bai Li's purse was filled with golden melon seeds and silver peanuts—all edible.
The young master looked at him and asked curiously: "Do you have any more poems? Sell them all to me. I'll keep them as backup."
"Why do you need so many?" Chen Ji asked, puzzled.
The young master laughed: "You don't get it. One line at a time isn't satisfying. I need ten lines, a hundred lines at once to really impress those scholars."
Chen Ji thought for a moment: "Good lines come naturally, and inspiration strikes by chance. Writing poetry isn't that easy. You have to wait."
If he had to recite entire poems, he only knew a few like "Goose, Goose, Goose," "Quiet Night Thoughts," and "Sympathy for the Farmers"... but half-lines? He had plenty of those.
After nine years of compulsory education, who didn't have dozens of lines memorized? But he couldn't reveal too many at once.
If he did, they wouldn't be as valuable...
The young master grew impatient: "You must have written more before, right? Sell them to me!"
Surprisingly, Bai Li spoke up for Chen Ji: "Brother, writing poetry isn't that easy. Let's wait until he has more good lines. Forced poetry isn't interesting."
"Fine," the young master said, still unsatisfied.
He muttered the line "A man walks between heaven and earth, suddenly like a distant traveler," feeling that the more he pondered it, the more profound it became.
Thinking that this line was now his, he took a silver peanut from Bai Li's purse and slapped it on the table, shouting: "Boss, today I'm in a good mood! Everyone eating noodles here is on me!"
Chen Ji raised an eyebrow.
He hadn't seen the young master pay for anything himself—it was always Bai Li footing the bill.
No wonder the young master always brought Bai Li along.
Perhaps Prince Jing was worried he'd go astray, so he didn't give him any pocket money, and the young master had to rely on his sister's purse.
That made sense—it really did! It seemed the young master was just a big spender in name, while Bai Li was the real wealthy one!
She Dengke reminded Chen Ji: "Chen Ji, we should head back. The shop is about to close, and the master can't handle it alone."
"Alright," Chen Ji stood up and bid farewell to the young master and the others: "Young master, princess, we're heading back now. We'll prepare the ladder for you all tonight."
The young master: "... Classy, true martial world folks!" After Chen Ji and the others left, Bai Li turned to the young master: "Brother, I'm starting to think he doesn't seem like a gambler."
"Indeed, he doesn't," the young master glanced at the little monk who was silently reciting scriptures: "Little monk, my father said you have the 'mind-reading' ability. What do you think?"
The little monk smiled: "Brother Chen has a gambling nature, and it's a strong one. But he doesn't gamble with money—he gambles with his life. Such people are born to walk on the edge of a blade."
Bai Li muttered: "You're making it sound more and more mysterious. Little monk, stop being so cryptic!"
The little monk sighed: "I'm not being cryptic. I just don't know how to explain it to you."
Bai Li ignored him and turned to the young master: "Brother, why did you come out too?"
The young master slurped his noodles and bit into a garlic clove, mumbling: "No reason, I just wanted to tag along."
...
Late at night, the once spacious sleeping quarters felt cramped with Liang Gou'er and Liang Mao'er around.
Chen Ji quietly got up, took a bamboo tube and a bamboo strip, and went to the courtyard.
He began scraping the layers of white frost off the walls.
Just the accumulated frost from this small courtyard over the years could fill half a bamboo tube.
Who knew how much gunpowder could be made from the frost in the entire city of Luocheng...
Tonight was the night Yun Fei and the Jing Dynasty's Military Intelligence Bureau were supposed to exchange goods.
Chen Ji had already passed the information to the official in the backyard of Bailu Pavilion when he went to the east market to buy clothes earlier that morning.
Whether their transaction would succeed or not was no longer his concern.
With Yun Yang and Jiao Tu now imprisoned, and the new head of the Secret Intelligence Bureau yet to arrive, Chen Ji had some rare free time.
He practiced his swordsmanship, made explosives, and enjoyed a leisurely life like an ordinary person.
As Chen Ji was scraping the saltpeter off the walls, a soft knock came from the door.
He frowned.
Was it some martial artists waiting for the young master to go out and have fun? But the young master hadn't arrived yet.
Chen Ji hid the bamboo tube behind the water jar and quietly approached the door: "Who is it?"
A gentle voice came from outside: "Golden Pig."
Chen Ji's heart skipped a beat.
Golden Pig, one of the twelve zodiac agents of the Secret Intelligence Bureau? Why had he arrived so quickly? He had thought the new head of the Luocheng branch would take at least a month to arrive, giving him plenty of time to prepare.
But Golden Pig's arrival was not only faster than he expected, but it probably also caught the Military Intelligence Bureau and the Liu family off guard!
After a moment of thought, Chen Ji took a deep breath and slowly opened the door, putting on a welcoming smile: "May I ask if you are Golden Pig of the Secret Intelligence Bureau?"
Outside stood a chubby young man, wearing straw sandals, a bamboo hat, and coarse cloth clothes, looking like a farmer who had just come from the countryside.
The man smiled warmly, without the sinister aura of Yun Yang or Jiao Tu: "Yes, I am Golden Pig of the Secret Intelligence Bureau. My real name is Song Qian. The first thing I did upon arriving in Luocheng was to come find you."
Chen Ji subtly stepped aside: "Why has Golden Pig come? What about Yun Yang and Jiao Tu?"
Logically, as a mere apprentice in a medical shop, he shouldn't know that the two had been arrested by the main judicial bureau.
So, he had to play his part.
Golden Pig entered the shop, looking around the main hall as he replied with a smile: "Yun Yang and Jiao Tu caused a huge mess and are now in prison... Didn't anyone inform you?"
"No," Chen Ji shook his head: "Yun Yang and Jiao Tu treated me well. Why were they imprisoned?"
Golden Pig shook his head: "You misunderstood Yun Yang and Jiao Tu. You probably don't know they tried to steal your credit. Don't worry, now that I'm here, no one can take your功劳 away."
Chen Ji probed: "Did Golden Pig come from the capital?"
"No, I was already at the Mengjin camp of the Jiefan Guard outside Luocheng when Yun Yang and Jiao Tu arrived. Let me tell you, the yellow carp from the Yellow River in Mengjin is really delicious, especially with the local braised sauce. It's incredibly fragrant."
Chen Ji was surprised: "Golden Pig has been in Luocheng all along?!"
(End of Chapter)