Chapter Sixty-Two: Bait and Line

Chapter Sixty-Two: Bait and Line

By the dark lakeshore, a solitary lantern cast a ghostly glow upon the nearby flowers, grass, and trees. The woman hid in the shadows, watching as the scholar quietly hummed a tune, rummaging through the undergrowth. Soon, he cradled a large stone, tossing it lightly a couple of times with evident satisfaction before heading back.

At one end of the road, soldiers of the Martial Fierce Army drew closer, while on the other, local officials patrolled the lakeside with lanterns, seeming likely to arrive before the soldiers. The sound of pounding echoed— the scholar crouched beside the carriage, striking its wheel with the stone, apparently addressing some issue. When he tossed the stone aside, dusted off his hands, and stood up, the officials had already approached. The woman held her breath. As expected, the officials first addressed the scholar, checking the markings on the carriage as a conversation unfolded.

"Sir... are you from the Prince Consort's residence?"

"Is something the matter?" The scholar's tone was cool as he turned to ask.

"Ah... there was an incident in the city just now. We are pursuing the criminal. Since you are not among the Prince Consort's retinue, may we ask why you have this carriage?"

Sensing the scholar might be someone of note, the officials maintained respect. The scholar paused in thought, then asked, puzzled, "A criminal?"

By now, several Martial Fierce Army soldiers had arrived, drawing near to the carriage, though some kept vigilant eyes on the darkness by the river. The scholar turned, "Are you here for the same reason?"

"The Martial Fierce Army is hunting an assassin. What is it you wish to know?" the leading soldier replied steadily.

"What exactly happened?"

"There was an assassination in the city moments ago. The assassin should have fled in this direction. Have you seen anyone suspicious? Also, if you don't mind, we would need to conduct a routine search."

"Heh, understood. Please proceed," the scholar gestured, then inquired, "Has anyone been attacked?"

"Where are you coming from, sir?"

"From Egret Isle, the Flower Queen contest. I am Ning Liheng, not of the Prince Consort's household, but acquainted with Lord Ming, and so borrowed his carriage to return to the city ahead. Lord Ming should still be behind, returning by pleasure boat. If required for your duties, the steward of the carriage is Lu Agu, a Prince Consort’s official; you may inquire of him."

Naturally, the soldiers would not divulge specifics, focusing instead on the scholar’s background. After inspecting the carriage and hearing his explanation, their demeanor grew more respectful. The lead soldier saluted, "Forgive us."

One of the officials remarked, "Ning Liheng... could he be that Ning Liheng from 'When Will the Moon Be Clear'?"

Clearly, this man had some reputation. Both soldiers and officials altered their manner toward him. The lead soldier lowered his voice: "At Xuanling Street just now, an assassin attacked Commander Song Xian. Dozens were injured or killed. The assassin is highly skilled and ruthless, and has likely escaped to this area. Please take care, sir. It would be best to return home soon."

Both groups departed toward their respective directions, meeting another patrol at the intersection and exchanging words while gesturing toward this spot. The scholar waved at the three departing groups and, in the night, could be heard humming, "Heh, Song Xian..."

Then the scholar climbed into the carriage and began whipping the horses forward.

The carriage turned the corner, moving steadily. Ning Yi lifted the curtain, hanging it aside as he watched the flickering lights around him. People returning from the Flower Queen contest passed by; a few officials hurried in the opposite direction. Seeing the carriage’s markings and opened curtain, they paid it no further heed.

The crowd had grown. Most returning from the contest had some minor standing. If every person outside the suspicious core area were to be checked, it would be too much trouble. Moreover, there weren’t enough hands for such scrutiny; at best, they could thoroughly check those leaving the city gates.

The bait was set—whether it would work depended on luck. Based on his calculations, the assassin most likely hid near the lakeshore, but that area was vast; he had chosen the spot he deemed most probable. The surroundings were quiet; any spoken words would carry easily. The chance the fish would bite was only thirty percent.

He did not know if another person was already in his carriage; he had no way to check, lest he face a blade to the head. He merely watched the roads flanking the carriage. There were still people about; if the other had taken the bait, they would not alight here. The road to the academy ahead grew quieter; with no one along the sides, he slowed the carriage and decided to speak.

"I have a few words to say; I ask the valiant not to be overly sensitive. Song Xian is cruel and arrogant, ruthless in his ambitions. In the autumn of the sixth year of Jinghan, he fabricated charges to seize land at Second Month Village outside the city, causing the death of an entire family. This became widely known, but without evidence, no one could touch him. I have long heard of his evil deeds and have admired the heroic and chivalrous spirit. If you trust me, I am willing to lend you a hand..."

His earlier wandering had skirted the edge of danger, but this speech was the true risk. Still, considering the details of the two assassination attempts and the present situation, he was confident the risk was minimized. If anything came of it, it depended on the assassin boarding his carriage—a mere thirty percent chance.

With no one before or behind, Ning Yi waited for a response. But after a long pause, none came.

Had he miscalculated?

In an imperfect plan, failure was common; from the start, the chances were slim. Still, it was not a loss. As time passed, a faint regret rose in Ning Yi’s heart. He sighed, preparing to stop and check beneath the carriage, when a dull thud sounded from the rear. Ning Yi’s heart jolted. He jumped down, lantern in hand, and went over—there lay the assassin woman, shrouded in a black cloth, collapsed on the road, already unconscious.

From the moment she killed Song Xian and was surrounded, she had fought with all her strength, managing to eliminate Song Xian in that dire situation, but suffering many injuries herself. Ning Yi had seen her act fiercely, but after a frantic escape through the city, pursued and blocked, her body was pushed to the limit. When Ning Yi exposed her hiding place, she might have intended to burst forth, but at that moment, failed strength led to sudden fainting. She had wrapped herself tightly in the cloth to keep from dripping blood along the way. Ning Yi watched for a few seconds, then hurried to lift her up.

Previous mistakes and mishaps had occurred, but this turn was truly perfect.

From the start, the chance of getting her onto the carriage was slim; once she was aboard, gaining her trust in such a delicate situation, helping step by step, building a debt, and negotiating—all these steps had diminishing odds. Yet this outcome was the ideal. Simply speaking was not enough to win trust; the situation was too unpredictable. Now, with her unconscious, much of the subsequent process was simplified. As long as he treated her wounds and helped her, when she awoke, reason would likely outweigh suspicion.

The road was already close to the small courtyard beside the academy, which he had rented. Turning the corner, he reached the door. Ning Yi glanced around, opened the door, and carried the woman inside. The outer room was his workshop; the inner was a small storage space, sparsely furnished with a bed and chairs left by previous occupants. Ning Yi laid the woman on the bed, stepped outside to check for any suspicious traces, then returned to seek medicines.

He had prepared common remedies and bandages, expecting injuries from experiments, and now took needle and thread, lighting a crude alcohol lamp fashioned from a porcelain bottle—he had made a small distiller for Nie Yunzhu’s food business, so had produced a bit of alcohol. Carrying these, he pushed open the inner door and stepped inside—suddenly, the cold edge of a sword was at his throat.

She woke up too quickly...

Ning Yi held the lamp motionless, inwardly muttering. The woman leaned against the wall, sword in hand, gazing coldly at him. Clearly, his words in the carriage had some effect; she was not intent on immediate murder. After a moment, she asked, "What are you trying to do?"

"Medicine," Ning Yi raised the small bundle in his right hand and placed it on the table, opening it. He set down the lamp as well, raising both hands. "To treat your wounds."

"How can I trust you?"

"You must judge for yourself."

The woman picked up a pack of medicine, sniffed it, glanced at Ning Yi, and tossed it aside. She opened a porcelain bottle, inspected it, and threw it aside as well. During this, she finally lowered her sword. After a pause, she asked, "What is this fishhook for?"

"A needle, to stitch your wounds."

"Stitch... wounds?"

"Yes, to sew them shut. They’ll heal faster."

She looked at him oddly, "Leave."

Then added, "Only in the outer room. If you leave or play any tricks, I’ll kill you immediately."

"I’ll boil some water for you."

She likely had her own better medicines and wouldn’t let him handle the injuries. Ning Yi nodded and retreated, laughing and shaking his head. In any case, the first step was settled.

"My name is Ning Yi, courtesy Liheng. And you, miss?"

He kept up a respectful, chatty demeanor, attempting to draw closer...

ps: Will revise later; there’s a long ps. Those interested in Ning Yi’s character can refresh.

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