The low-key prince summons trainees from the Imperial Household Department at the start of the game.

Lu Changfeng's eyes grew brighter and brighter.

Although he was a member of the Beggars' Sect in his previous life and was used to fighting and killing and chivalrous deeds, he was not a brainless person.

He certainly knew the value of intelligence, and that in the heart of the power vortex of the capital, whoever controlled the information held the upper hand.

"What Your Highness needs is not an army to charge into battle," he said slowly, "but a net."

"Yes." Zhou Xing nodded, stretching out his chubby little hand, palm up. "What I want is for every event that happens in the capital to reach your ears within three days and for me within five days."

"Which official accepted whose money, which general took which concubine, which prince hosted whom, which merchant ship arrived at the dock—these seemingly trivial matters are all crucial to me."

Lu Changfeng took a deep breath, knelt down on one knee again, clasped his hands in a fist, and said cleanly and neatly: "Your Highness, I understand. Rest assured, the intelligence network in the capital will take shape within a month and cover the entire city within three months."

He paused, then added somewhat sheepishly, "But there's a small problem right now. The brothers don't even have enough tools to eat from. That dilapidated temple in the west of the city is drafty..."

Zhou Xing smiled slightly, jumped down from the windowsill, ran barefoot to the bedside, and pulled a small cloth bag from under the pillow.

This is the monthly allowance he has saved up over the past few months. A prince's monthly allowance is not much, but the advantage is that no one cares about him and he doesn't have many expenses. He has saved up about ten taels of silver.

He handed the cloth bag out the window.

Lu Changfeng took the cloth bag, weighed it in his hand, and then looked at Zhou Xing with even more complicated emotions.

The fact that a six-year-old prince could prepare the money in advance shows that he had planned this step ahead.

Such thoughts and such cunning sent a chill down his spine, yet at the same time, he felt inexplicably at ease.

Follow wise people and you'll live a long life.

He carefully tucked the cloth bag into his bosom, glanced at the moonlight, and whispered, "Your Highness, it's almost dawn. I can't stay any longer. Next time I have important matters to report, I will send the message through Wang Mazi's Pancake Shop in Deshengfang, West City."

"If you have any instructions, you can send someone to that shop and tell the shopkeeper, 'Two sesame seed cakes, no scallions,' and he'll know you're one of us."

Zhou Xing nodded and noted it down, watching Lu Changfeng's figure disappear back into the shadows of the artificial hill and bamboo forest, vanishing silently into the night.

He closed the window, walked barefoot back to the bed, climbed into bed, pulled the covers up, and closed his eyes.

Moonlight streamed through the window paper, casting a hazy glow on the ceiling.

Zhou Xing lay in the darkness, his mind rapidly processing all the information. Zhao Gao was in the study of the chief steward of the Imperial Household Department, gradually infiltrating the core of the department.

Lu Changfeng and the Beggars' Gang's founding team are about to begin building an intelligence network in the capital city from a dilapidated temple in the western part of the city.

One line is inside the palace, and the other is outside the palace. Both lines are just starting out, but their directions are clear. They just need time to grow and eventually converge at a certain point.

All he needs to do is continue being a six-year-old child.

He rolled over, buried his face in the pillow, and a smile curved his lips in a way that no one could see.

The system says that a large-scale supergroup can be summoned once a year.

Next year, the year after, and the year after that, every year he will have a new batch of people, an additional network, and an extra layer of covert power.

He doesn't need to rush to bring these forces to the surface. He just needs to lay them down layer by layer until one day, this palace city, this capital city, and even the entire Great Zhou will find that every brick, every road, and every street under their feet has been silently covered by his net.

On that day, it will be hard to say who will be the pawn and who will be the player.

In the distance, the light in the study of the Grand Steward of the Imperial Household Department was still on.

Zhao Gao sat at a small table in the corner, with a stack of account books spread out in front of him and a cup of cold tea beside him.

He rubbed his sore eyes and continued copying the purchase list to be submitted to the manager the next day.

He hadn't had a good night's sleep for three days, but he didn't feel tired.

In his previous life, when he served by Qin Shi Huang's side, he had experienced days ten times more bitter than this.

This little bit of hard work isn't even an appetizer.

In the dilapidated temple in the western city, Lu Changfeng pushed open the creaking wooden door and entered the main hall, which was covered in cobwebs and dust.

Moonlight streamed down through the gaping hole in the roof, illuminating the dozen or so figures lying sprawled haphazardly inside the hall.

Hearing footsteps, the group of people sat up one by one, their eyes all turning towards the doorway.

"Boss, have you seen the master?" A thin, dark-skinned man with a missing front tooth approached, his face full of urgency.

Lu Changfeng did not answer immediately.

He walked to the center of the hall, took out the small cloth bag containing loose silver from his pocket, placed it on the broken offering table, and then slowly scanned the faces of everyone in the hall.

His eyes were bright and piercing, completely at odds with his tattered cotton-padded coat.

"I saw him." His voice was soft, but every word was firm and resolute. "From today onwards, we are no longer just beggars; we are His Highness Ninth Prince's eyes and ears in the capital."

"Within a month, I need to find out the name of every shopkeeper on this street, what time they open and close each day, who owns the shop, and which government office they are connected to."

The dilapidated hall was quiet for a moment, then the dozen or so beggars clasped their hands in unison, their movements perfectly synchronized, making them look nothing like a group of vagrants.

"Yes, sir!"

Moonlight poured down from the broken roof, illuminating the heavy bag of broken silver on the offering table, and also illuminating a dozen pairs of burning eyes.

From this moment on, this dilapidated temple in the western city was no longer just a dilapidated temple.