Han Ji

Chapter 150 The Shadow in the Rice Warehouse

Several burlap sacks were piled up next to the fire, bulging and full.

"Willow," a younger man rubbed his hands together, "will the young master reward you this time we go back?"

The scarred man, Liu Jun, glanced at him and said, "You'll get your share. Getting things done is more important than anything else."

"That's right, that's right..." The younger man smiled obsequiously, took out a pancake from his pocket, broke off half of it and handed it to Liu Jun. Liu Jun took it, but didn't eat it, staring blankly at the fire.

Qian Zhao's gaze fell on the sack.

The burlap sacks were made of ordinary coarse linen, but the way they were tied was incorrect. Ordinary merchants would tie their goods with a cross knot or a grid knot for easy loading and unloading. These burlap sacks, however, were tied with double loops, a method commonly used in the military—sturdy, but difficult to untie.

Moreover, the snow had melted at the bottom of the sack, indicating that the contents inside were heavy and compacted.

Medicinal herbs? Medicinal herbs aren't that heavy.

Qian Zhao made another gesture.

Ten guards were already in position at the back gate, swords drawn and bows strung, blocking any escape route.

He stood up and stepped out of the snowdrift.

The footsteps startled the people inside.

Liu Jun suddenly looked up, his hand reaching for his waist, where a bulge protruded—a short sword. But when he saw the guards behind Qian Zhao, he stopped.

"Who goes there?" He stood up, blocking the sack, a smile plastered on his face. "Sir, I'm a medicine merchant from Jingzhou. I've been caught in a snowstorm and am seeking shelter here..."

Qian Zhao didn't reply and walked into the post station.

The firelight illuminated half of his face, and the snow on his armor melted, dripping water.

"A pharmacist?" He glanced at the sack. "What kind of medicine?"

"Angelica, Astragalus, Poria..." Liu Jun answered smoothly, "These are all rare in Sichuan, and they can fetch a good price if transported back to Yizhou."

Qian Zhao walked up to the sack and poked it with the scabbard.

Hard.

"Open it," he said.

Liu Jun's expression changed: "Sir, this... the medicinal herbs are susceptible to moisture; they'll be ruined as soon as the bag is opened."

"It's ruined, I'll pay for it." Qian Zhao's voice was flat and even.

The four men behind Liu Jun stood up, all reaching for their robes. Qian Zhao's personal guards took a step forward, their blades gleaming in the firelight.

The stalemate lasted for three breaths.

Liu Jun gritted his teeth and waved his hand: "Open."

A young man untied the burlap sack, grabbed a handful of medicinal herbs, and found they were indeed angelica root, withered roots and a muddy smell.

Qian Zhao didn't look at the medicinal herbs, but at the bottom of the burlap sack.

When the man was getting the medicine, a small corner of oilcloth peeked out from under the burlap sack; it was dark and different in color from the herbs.

"Pour it all out," Qian Zhao said.

"Sir!" Liu Jun exclaimed anxiously, "This...this won't do..."

Qian Zhao's personal guards stepped forward, two of them pressing down on Liu Jun's shoulders, one on each side. Two other guards picked up the sack and dumped it out with a clatter, scattering the medicinal herbs all over the ground. Underneath, they revealed an oilcloth package, three feet long and one foot wide, tightly bound.

Liu Jun's face turned pale.

Qian Zhao used the tip of his knife to pry open the knot in the oilcloth.

Inside were scrolls, made of bamboo slips, tied with hemp rope. He picked up one scroll and unrolled it.

The flickering firelight illuminated the words: "...The Azure Heaven is dead, the Yellow Heaven shall rise. In the year of Jiazi, great fortune will come to the world..."

Annotated volume of the Taiping Jing.

Qian Zhao looked up and saw Liu Jun.

Sweat beaded on Liu Jun's forehead as he forced a smile: "Sir, this... this is for gaining the trust of the mountain people... The mountain people of Sichuan believe in this; it makes doing business easier..."

"To gain the trust of the mountain people," Qian Zhao repeated, "to use the *Taiping Jing* for annotation?"

He packed up the roll, tied it up, and stuffed it back into the tarpaulin.

"take away."

"Sir! I'm innocent!" Liu Jun struggled. "I'm really a medicine merchant! I... I found this scripture on the road!"

Qian Zhao ignored him and waved to his personal guards: "Take the people and goods away together and return to Nanzheng tonight."

Liu Jun's hands were tied behind his back and bound tightly. His four followers were also held down and gagged. The sack was repacked and loaded onto the horse.

When we left the post station, the wind was strong.

Before mounting his horse, Qian Zhao glanced back at the campfire. The fire was still burning, crackling and illuminating the empty, dilapidated house.

He mounted his horse and whispered, "Go."

Twenty riders charged into the wind and snow.

The horse's hooves, wrapped in cloth, made a muffled sound, but moved quickly. Liu Jun was bound to the horse, jolted violently, his stomach churning. He gritted his teeth and endured it, his eyes fixed on Qian Zhao's retreating figure, his expression complex. There was hatred, fear, and a hint of barely perceptible despair.

He knew it was over.

This job went wrong.

What about his husband...? He dared not think about it.

The wind whipped up snowflakes, stinging my face like knives. The mountain road was pitch black, with only a faint glimmer of light from the horses' hooves pounding the snow, winding its way towards Nanzheng.

Qian Zhao ran in the lead, her heart heavy.

The annotations to the *Taiping Jing* are no ordinary item. Although the Yellow Turban Rebellion was quelled, this thing remained a taboo; possessing it was a capital offense. Liu Jun's claim that it was to gain the trust of the mountain people was utterly deceitful.

And then there was the way they tied it up, the Hubei accent, and the heavy burlap sacks...

He recalled Liu Bei's instructions from a few days earlier: "Keep a close eye on the rice granary route, especially in the twelfth lunar month. There will be fewer caravans, but the necessary patrols must not be reduced."

What should be there?

Qian Zhao doesn't know.

But he knew that the person in his hand and the package he was carrying were probably much heavier than they looked.

Su Gu arrived on the 25th of the twelfth lunar month.

The snow stopped, the sky cleared, and the sun hung pale in the sky, offering little warmth. Su Gu came without any attendants, only supported by an old servant, who was draped in a thick fur coat and had a sallow complexion, looking as if he had just recovered from a serious illness.

Liu Bei greeted him in the main hall.

Su Gu waved his hand: "Don't be so polite, have a seat."

The two sat facing each other. Tea was served; it was new tea from southern Sichuan, with a bluish-green hue. Su Gu didn't drink it, but instead tucked his hands into his sleeves and coughed twice.

"I'm not fully recovered yet," he said, "but I had to come to your happy occasion."

He took a small wooden box out of his pocket.

Made of sandalwood, about the size of a palm, carved with cloud patterns, its surface polished to a shine so bright that it reflects one's image.

"Open it and take a look," Su Gu said, pushing it towards him.

Liu Bei opened it.

Inside, red silk was laid out, and on it lay a jade unicorn. The jade was the color of mutton fat, so smooth it seemed to drip oil. The unicorn raised its head and paws, its whiskers and mane bristling, and two dots of black jade were inlaid in its eyes, making it lifelike.

Liu Bei closed the box.

"Master Su, this is far too precious."

"Precious?" Su Gu laughed, his face crinkling with wrinkles. "No matter how precious it is, it's just a stone. Is it more precious than your unborn child?"

He reached out and grasped Liu Bei's wrist.

My hands were cold, like ice, but I held them tightly.

"Xuande," Su Gu looked into his eyes, emphasizing each word, "Congratulations. This chaotic world... needs someone like you."

Liu Bei did not withdraw his hand.

"What does Master Su mean?"

"What do you mean?" Su Gu released his grip, leaned back in his chair, and looked outside. The sun shone on the snow, its reflection blinding. "The world is about to catch fire. Although the Yellow Turban Rebellion has been quelled, the flames have not been extinguished. The Qiang rebellion has broken out again in Liangzhou, the Wuhuan in Youzhou are restless, and the Xiongnu in Bingzhou are stirring... And the court? Factional strife, eunuchs, and imperial relatives—it's a complete mess."

He turned back and stared at Liu Bei.

"At this time, it would be great if there were a place where the people had food to eat, the soldiers received their pay, and pregnant women could rest and recover peacefully..."

"It's not easy." He paused, "You're a capable person. I can tell."

Liu Bei remained silent.

He stood up, and the old servant hurriedly helped him up.

He stopped at the door without turning around.

"Xuande, I've come to ask for a cup of wine to celebrate the baby's full moon."

After saying that, he left.

The footsteps faded into the distance.

Liu Bei sat alone in the hall, looking at the wooden box.

After a long while, he opened the box and took out the jade unicorn. The jade was warm to the touch. He held it tightly in his hand, so tightly that his knuckles turned white.