Chapter 92 (1/2)

The big black umbrella was like a black lotus, slowly flowing in the rain of Chang'an City.

Sangsang did not know when she had let go of his sleeves. She asked raising her face and furrowing her eyebrows, ”Young master, what did you say to Xiaoman previously in the Princess Mansion? Those palace mammies and imperial maids looked blue on their faces.”

Ning Que looked at the little girl who pretended to be calm, and could not help thinking of the recurrent scenarios those years in Minshan. He had carried her from this peak to another, from the cottage to another, while he was terribly busy in exploring ways and telling fairy tales to lull the little girl in the pack basket. Now he could not help rubbing her head with a smile, and said, ”To tell fairy tales... You know that's what I'm good at.”

”Which one, The Cinderella or Three Pigs?” Asked Sangsang, in curiosity.

”The Little Prince”

Sangsang asked seriously in frown, ”The Little Prince? Could he understand?”

Ning Que felt stunned, considering that it was really a question.

The master and servant were chatting all the way towards the north in the drizzle of the deep spring. They crossed the Tongxiao Fang, then back to the Eastern City. They bypa.s.sed the entrance to the street and walked deeper to the Eastern City rather than go into the Lin 47th Street. The Old Brush Pen Shop was closed today. No one knew when Sangsang had quietly brought back a podao wrapped tightly by the cloth. Traces of rain could be slightly seen on her shoulders.

The rain gradually became heavy. Pedestrians in the street of Eastern City were forced to return to their homes or workshops. Ning Que and Sangsang stopped in front of a remote slum. They stood under the eaves of the desolate and worn-out Haotian G.o.d Temple with the big black umbrella, looking into the lane and listening silently to the sound coming out from the smithy in the rain.

Sangsang said in a low voice, ”The smithy'll be closed in a while, and young masters'll be busy arranging today's orders, while Chen Zixian'll rest back to the backyard. I heard that he rarely strokes the hammer these years. And then he'll be the only person left in the courtyard, and it's relatively convenient for us due to the rain today.”

Ning Que looked up at the leaden clouds and the dim light in the sky, silently calculating the time. After guessing that it was just about the time, he pa.s.sed the big black umbrella to Sangsang and asked her to wait there. He then took out a bamboo hat from his back to put it on and then walked towards the west of the lane. He pa.s.sed through two streets in the increasingly heavy rain, getting near to the backyard of the smithy.

No one would notice the sc.r.a.ping sound made by tough boots' stepping on the uneven stone road and on the water. Ning Que watched the rough wooden door that was not far away, and slowly stepped forward. He held the podao tighter and tighter with his left hand, recalling all the information of the second name in his heart.

Names on the oilpaper were the important figures in the slain ma.s.sacre of Xuanwei General's Mansion and the village of Yan territory. This information was found by Zhuo Er and was exchanged with his sweat and life during the time while he was a spy in the Military Ministry under the command of Xia Hou.

Chen Zixian, 47 years old and the vice-general under the commander of the former Xuanwei General, was rewarded by the imperial court since he first accused Lin Guangyuan, Xuanwei General, of treason. Yet, he was deprived of the feats and was compelled out of the military due to his try of provocation in the 4th year of Tianqi era. After that, his family fell in hard times. His wife got departure with him and brought his two little sons back to hometown. Yet he stayed in Chang'an city to become a dest.i.tute master in a smithy in a slum of Eastern City.

Most names on the oilpaper list were not doing well after the two incidents except for two or three senior officials, who still enjoyed the prominent position and high salary. The censor who had died in his hands was down in the dumps all days, while some of them lived in mortal dread. Chen Zixian who was behind the door of the courtyard lived a dog's life.

Ning Que did not know why. In accordance with logical reasoning and common plots in stories, those guys, who had ever persecuted the faithful and honest and betrayed their masters in conspiracy, must be extremely aggressive and jolly before the revenge so that those people seeking revenge could feel a sense of pleasure and justice. However, things did not always go like this. They, who were determined to get revenge and killing, did not seem to live any better than those guys.

He had vaguely guessed that was the work of His Majesty, but he could not confirm and was unwillingly to think deeper. The heavy rain today and the call from the Princess Mansion provided a good opportunity for revenge. No matter how the official investigated, no one would or dared to suspect him. This was more important than anything else.

He looked down at the dripping rain from the edge of the hat, slowly moving his steps to get closer to that door.

The surface of the wrecked wooden door was slightly wet and cold when he pressed his fingers on it. He listened carefully to the sound coming from the smithy in the front of the courtyard. When he heard the sound of those heavy hammers tapping iron getting louder and more intense, his left hand which was holding the podao rose slowly and his right hand gently pushed the wooden door open.

The spindle of the old door was moistened by the rain and made a light stridor that sounded like a sob. Ning Que, who was wearing a bamboo hat, walked down the broken stone steps with a knife. He looked at the old man squatting in the courtyard, and said, ”Chen Zixian?”

The old man wearing a thin old jacket outside the woodshed looked miserable. Some traces could be seen on his shoulder cuff for years of burning of the furnace fire, and several pieces of black cotton stretched out of the crevice of the crisp cloth. His gray and white hair was tied together at a random, and he was chopping the firewood with an axe and a wooden piece respectively in his thick, long and iron-like hands.

The old man looked up with a flash in his turbid eyes. He watched Ning Que who had pushed open the door and his shadow below the bamboo hat. The old man wanted to see clearly his face, and then said after a moment of silence, ”Yes, I am.”

Ning Que stopped to look around the simple courtyard, to confirm that all the apprentices were really in the front part of the lane and that no one was left in the courtyard. He turned around to close the door, and to unfasten the lacing of the hat around his neck with his right hand. And then he slowly held the front handle of the podao firmly and walked towards the old retired officer.

The Bamboo hat fell onto the ground in the rain.