A divine healer, a general, a young marquis! Who can rival them!

Upon returning from the neighboring county, Yang Hu noticed that the hand lurking in the shadows had fallen silent.

Those who were collecting medicine, cutting off medicine supplies, and causing trouble all seemed to fall silent overnight. Yang's Medical Clinic in the east of the city was unusually quiet for a few days.

But Yang Hu knew in his heart that this was not a retreat, but a period of dormancy. Having failed in one attack and been defeated in another, the opponent must have changed tactics.

Sure enough, a few days later, someone came to the door.

The visitor was neither a ruffian nor a thug, but a well-dressed middle-aged man dressed as a steward. He was fair-skinned, clean-shaven, spoke politely, and behaved with impeccable manners; it was clear he was accustomed to performing respectable duties in a wealthy household. Upon entering, he greeted everyone with a broad smile and respectfully presented a generous gift: fine silks, precious medicinal herbs, and a heavy ingot of silver.

This scene was completely different from the group of hooligans who had overturned tables and smashed bowls a few days ago.

"Dr. Yang's medical skills are divine, and my master has long admired him." The steward smiled amiably. "This is just a small gift, nothing more. I hope the divine doctor will accept it, so that we can be friends in this city from now on."

Lu Yan served tea, while Liu Ye stood guard by the door, her eyes warily observing the uninvited guest. Qin Ying, disguised as a medicine boy, shrank behind the medicine cabinet, his eyes lowered, but his hand secretly went into his sleeve.

Yang Hu remained calm, neither accepting nor declining the gift, and simply asked, "I am but a humble physician, unworthy of such a generous gift. May I ask who your esteemed host is? Why are you being so kind?"

"The master cannot reveal his name." The steward's eyes darted around, and his tone shifted, becoming both soft and firm. "The master said that Physician Yang is a great healer who helps the common people. He should be content to sit in his clinic and practice medicine, saving lives. Those trivial, shady business dealings in and out of the city are very dirty. A person like Physician Yang doesn't need to get involved or ask about them. The master's meaning is that we should keep to ourselves. Physician Yang should just focus on practicing medicine, and let others worry about what others do."

These words are like a knife hidden in a velvet glove.

Ostensibly it's about making friends and giving gifts, but secretly it's about bribery and a warning: if you take this benefit, don't touch that line in the west of the city again; if you don't know what's good for you, those thuggish and drug-refusing methods are just appetizers.

Yang Hu sneered inwardly. This move was far more sophisticated than that of a rogue or someone who had stopped taking medicine. The first two moves were coercion, this one was enticement, bribery. Taking this benefit would mean getting on the other party's ship, and investigating that lead later would be seen as ingratitude and courting death.

But he deliberately avoided making it clear. A direct confrontation would only alert the enemy.

A hint of satisfaction appeared on his face as he feigned politeness and began to engage the manager in conversation. He avoided the harsher points in the manager's words, instead going along with the softer ones, exchanging pleasantries and pretending to be greedy and curious, subtly probing the manager's questions: "Boss, your business is so large, you must have extensive connections, right? Are the goods you're trading sold to the south or the north?"

The steward, perhaps thinking the young doctor was sensible and easy to manipulate, lowered his guard and let slip a few things during the conversation: something about "instructions from above," something about "they need him outside the pass," and something about "no one can bear the responsibility if something serious is ruined."

A few words, yet each one carried immense weight. The steward, thinking he had a shrewd and greedy young doctor under his thumb, was completely unaware that he had revealed the most crucial information.

Yang Hu knew perfectly well: there really was someone "above," there really was a connection to "outside the Great Wall," and it really was a huge, disastrous operation where failure would cost him his head. This steward was nothing more than a messenger's henchman; the real master was hidden in a deeper, darker place.

He subtly took note of these hints, but outwardly he simply went along with the other party, saying empty words like "the boss is too kind" and "I hope you will take good care of me in the future." He neither agreed nor refused anything, and the manager left with a beaming smile.

Before leaving, the manager thought that the "bribery" was done and that he would surely ask his shady "boss" for credit. Little did he know that his visit not only failed to shut Yang Hu up, but also helped Yang Hu to further illuminate that line of work.

After seeing the steward off, Yang Hu stood in the hall, remaining silent for a long time.

After this series of tests, the other party had used both hard and soft tactics. He deflected the hard tactics by leveraging the influence of the Zhou family and Qin Ying; he also skillfully accepted the soft tactic, and even managed to extract a few important words from them.

The Black Hand's overt antics have now temporarily ceased. It has retreated into the shadows, lying dormant once more, like a venomous snake that has flicked its tongue but failed to bite its prey, coiling itself up and waiting for the next, even more ruthless opportunity.

Yang Hu was also waiting.

He gazed out the window, his eyes fixed on the northern border post and the military camp. There lay Qin Ying's old troops, whom he couldn't let go of; there lay the end of that line; there lay the deepest roots of that hand. A few days ago, the old soldiers from the border had already come to invite him. That door was slowly, bit by bit, opening for him.

A snake lies in wait, preparing for its next, more deadly bite.

He lay low, but he was actually sharpening his knife.

Both sides remained inactive, but everyone knew that the real battle was not taking place in the open or covert fighting within the city, but deep within the military camp. The one who strikes first may not gain the upper hand; but the one who strikes second must first sharpen their blade sufficiently.

Yang Hu turned around, called Su Qing over, and whispered a few instructions. Ji Chuntang's informants in the pharmacy, Liu Ye's footwork in the mountains and markets, Qin Ying's knowledge of military passes and supply depots—everyone in his courtyard had their own purpose. He wanted to take advantage of this seemingly calm period to quietly untangle the network leading to the border: the medicine warehouses, the grain routes, the checkpoints, the central army delivering military reports—each thread, though seemingly independent, was actually tied to the same hand. Only by untangling this network could he strike decisively when the time came.

"Master, can we trust what the person in charge said?" Su Qing asked in a low voice.

"It's all a mix of truth and lies," Yang Hu said. "But the more they try to intimidate me and bribe me, the more it shows they're afraid I'll investigate further. Fear is their weakness. An ordinary unscrupulous merchant wouldn't go to such lengths—using thuggery, cutting off medicine, and personally bribing a doctor—for a mere doctor. What they're afraid of isn't that I'll steal their business, but that I'll expose their massive treasonous scheme."

Su Qing felt a chill run down her spine. She had been following her master for some time and knew that the western part of the city was a murky place, but she never imagined it was this deep.

"So... what should we do?"

"No rush." ​​Yang Hu's gaze returned to the north. "In this city, we can't compete with his overt wealth and connections. But the root of this line isn't in the city, it's in that military camp at the border. Once I enter that camp and uproot it, all the branches and tendrils in this city will wither and die."

The calmest time is often before the storm.

The quiet of the past few days, which appeared peaceful to outsiders, was, in Yang Hu's eyes, the breath-holding silence before two ferocious beasts clashed. One lurked in the shadows, hissing, while the other sharpened its blade and wove its net in the open. Whoever lost their composure first would reveal their weakness. Yang Hu was very patient. He could wait.

What he had to do was remain calm in this deathly silence, making each move strategically, waiting for the day when the border gate would open completely for him.

Outside the window, the night was deep. The unseen military camp to the north, at the end of that line, awaited him silently. And the knife he held grew sharper with each passing day.