Courtyard House: Home Alone

Zhou Muyun's smile froze for a moment. Liulichang was in the eastern part of the city, while the "Chrysanthemum Agency's" safe house was located in Rongxian Hutong in the western part of the city. This route was obviously a longer one.

But he quickly recovered: "Sir, you have a refined taste. Then let's go through Zhengyangmen, walk along Qianmen Street, and turn onto Yangmeizhu Xiejie."

The two walked out of the station one after the other. The March sunlight, rough and dusty, shone on the gray bricks of the Qianmen Arrow Tower, giving it an old and solemn appearance.

Shimizu Dongsan deliberately slowed his pace, his gaze sweeping over every face on the street—an old man selling candied hawthorns, a child shining shoes, a woman carrying a vegetable basket, and a patrolman leaning against a door frame basking in the sun.

These people could be informants for "Ghost," or they could just be ordinary citizens of Beiping. In the "Chrysanthemum Agency's" training manual, this is called "background noise," and excellent agents must learn to distinguish signals from noise.

"Mr. Zhou," he suddenly spoke, "where do you think this 'ghost' usually hide?"

Zhou Muyun's back visibly straightened: "Reporting to you, sir, as far as we know, they... come and go without a trace. To this day, no one even knows whether they are male or female."

"Then who is his agent? Or rather, who is the person in charge in Beiping right now? You should know that, right?" Shimizu Tōsan asked.

"I do know that. The person in charge in Beiping right now is Tang Baolin, a senior of the Xingyi School. He has the final say in all matters in Beiping," Zhou Muyun replied respectfully.

"Tang Baolin? Xingyi School? He practices martial arts?"

"Yes, sir. In 1923, he defeated a Japanese samurai in the ring and was considered a leading figure in the martial arts world of Beiping."

"Yoshi! Mr. Zhou, please make the arrangements. I need to meet with him as soon as possible, preferably tomorrow morning. Because 'Ghost' is showing signs of attacking Shicheng and Jinmen. I must stop it from happening."

"Mr. Shimizu, under what pretext should I invite him? In other words, in what capacity should you meet with him?" Zhou Muyun asked.

"Mr. Zhou, I will meet with him as a special envoy of the island nation. You can tell him that I am here for the peaceful coexistence of the island nation and Beiping."

At the same time, I also want to know what conditions could be met for the "Ghost" to stop its slaughter of my island nation's Imperial Army.

Zhou Muyun pondered for a moment, then looked troubled: "Mr. Qingshui, forgive my bluntness, but given Tang Baolin's personality, I'm afraid he might not be willing to accept this offer."

This man enjoys extremely high prestige in the martial arts world of Beiping and has even defeated a Japanese samurai. He is inherently arrogant. If you were to visit as a special envoy, he would most likely make excuses or even avoid meeting you altogether.

Shimizu Dongsan frowned slightly and tapped his fingers lightly on the table: "No! You're wrong! I read his information on the way here. Tang Baolin cherishes his reputation, and he will definitely not refuse anything that benefits the people of Beiping."

I intend to enter his residence with dignity and authority as a special envoy from an island nation, forcing him to receive me.

A smile appeared on Shimizu Tosan's lips, a smile so gentle it was as if he were discussing a perfectly ordinary official matter. "Mr. Zhou, just go and deliver the invitation. Tell them that I, Shimizu Tosan, am here on behalf of the island nation's government to discuss the safety of the 300,000 people of Beiping City."

Isn't Tang Baolin supposed to cherish his reputation? I'd like to see if he dares to reject the word 'peace' outright.

Zhou Muyun lowered his head, a complex look flashing in his eyes. He had been undercover in Beiping for twelve years and had seen too many arrogant and domineering envoys from island nations, but he had never seen anyone like Shimizu Dongsan—who spoke the most aggressive words yet had a humble tone as if he were making a request.

This contrast gave him a strange chill, as if he were facing not a person, but a meticulously woven net.

"Sir, you are truly brilliant." That was all he could say in the end.

The next morning, the courtyard deep in Rongxian Hutong was still shrouded in a thin mist, and Zhou Muyun was already waiting under the hanging flower gate.

He changed into a slightly worn blue cotton long gown, with some ink stains on the cuffs, making him look more like a poor schoolteacher than a spy who had been lying in wait for many years.

"Has the Tang family replied?"

Shimizu Dong San emerged from the inner room, dressed in a dark blue long gown, with round-framed glasses perched on his nose, and a copy of the "Shenbao" newspaper in his hand, looking every bit the intellectual concerned with current affairs.

"Yes, he's back." Zhou Muyun's voice was a little tense. "Mr. Tang agreed to meet at 'Zhimeizhai' inside Xuanwu Gate at 10:00 AM. But there's a condition—"

"explain."

"He will only meet with you alone, and the meeting place will be arranged by his men. None of our men are allowed to come within a hundred paces of Zhimeizhai."

Shimizu Tōsan straightened the collar of his long gown, the gentle smile on his lips remaining perfectly unchanged: "As expected. It would be disappointing if someone who can control Beiping under the shadow of 'Ghost' didn't even possess this much caution."

He turned to Zhou Muyun, his gaze behind his glasses suddenly becoming sharp as a knife. Then, he took out a neatly folded piece of paper from his pocket, "But I need you to do something for me."

"Inform all of you in Beiping to begin cross-monitoring and surveillance of Tang Baolin and his confidants immediately. Find the 'ghost' as quickly as possible. This is His Highness the Prince's order; take it back and show it to them."

Zhou Muyun took the paper, his fingertips trembling slightly as they touched its surface. He knew better than anyone the weight of those four words: "Prince's Order"—it meant that all the agents of the "Chrysanthemum Agency" who had been lying low in Beiping for twelve years would be mobilized for this bespectacled young man.

"Mr. Shimizu," he said, tucking the warrant into his pocket and lowering his voice, "Zhimeizhai is Tang Baolin's territory. If you go alone, what if—"

"There's no 'what if'," Shimizu Tungsan interrupted him, pulling a folded map of Beiping from the Shenbao newspaper and slowly unfolding it on the octagonal table. His finger pointed to the vicinity of Xuanwu Gate, where a small circle was drawn in red pen.

"Zhimeizhai was a Shandong cuisine restaurant opened during the Daoguang era of the Qing Dynasty. It was a three-story wooden building with a backyard that led directly to Xizhuan Hutong. Tang Baolin chose this place for two reasons: first, it offered a quiet retreat amidst the hustle and bustle, and second, it provided a convenient escape route."

His fingertips traced a path westward along Xizhuan Hutong. "You see," he said, "just two alleys past the embassy district, and further south is the train station. If he wanted to harm me, he wouldn't have chosen such a well-connected place."

Zhou Muyun leaned closer to examine it and discovered that the map was covered with numerous small pencil marks—which alley had which shops, which courtyard had dogs, and even the location of public toilets was clearly marked. The map's level of detail far surpassed the internal archives of the "Chrysanthemum Agency."

"When did you prepare these, sir?"

"On the ship." Shimizu Tozo folded the map neatly, his tone as calm as if discussing the weather. "From Yokohama to Tianjin, thirty-seven hours, enough time to do a lot of things."

He suddenly looked up, his eyes behind his glasses curving into two crescent moons: "Mr. Zhou, you just said that Tang Baolin 'only agreed to see me alone'—what did he mean by 'alone'?"

Zhou Muyun recalled the messenger's words: "The exact words were, 'Let that islander come by himself. If there's even one more person spitting out the air, I'm not waiting for him.'"

"Panning..."

Shimizu Tosan repeated softly, then suddenly laughed out loud, "What a martial arts style! Mr. Zhou, go and tell him that I, Shimizu Tosan, will be at the appointment promptly at ten o'clock this morning."