novelAbuy Chapter 098: The Smoke of War Has Not Yet Faded
Chapter 098: The Smoke of War Has Not Yet Faded
After listening, Xiao Bieli didn't say anything, but stood up after a moment of silence.
"I will go to Baima Temple today to check if the rendezvous point in the rear hall is intact. If the rear hall is still usable, I will send a test code to Ezhou using the new code to see if Zhu Fu can receive it."
Yue Yinping pressed him back into the chair.
"Tonight won't work. Baima Temple is holding the Guanyin Festival on the 19th of the second lunar month these two days, and the temple is full of worshippers burning incense."
"It'll be easy for you to blend in with the worshippers and get in, but you might get bumped into by other worshippers at the handover point in the back hall. After the Guanyin Festival, three days from now, I'll personally take you there."
Xiao Bieli did not refute. He put the knife on the table and sat down again.
It was completely dark outside the old camp. The bamboo forest outside rustled in the night wind, and a few fishing lights flickered on the distant Han River.
The cook carried in a pot of wild vegetable porridge and placed it on the table. There weren't enough bowls, so the two of them ate directly from the pot.
"Is your sister still in Lin'an?"
"Yes." Xiao Bieli took a sip of porridge. "She's making glutinous rice balls for Miss Shen at the Prince's mansion. Before I left, she slipped a piece of osmanthus cake into my bag and wrote a note saying to eat it if I got hungry." She paused before continuing, "She's more successful than me."
Yue Yinping glanced at him while holding the bowl.
Xiao Bieli, who defied orders to go north from Zhuxian Town and escaped from the Jin camp on his back, actually said that he was not as successful as his sister.
But Yue Yinping didn't say anything more, because suddenly a series of hurried footsteps came from outside the old camp.
Old Xu lifted the tent flap, his face looking rather grim.
"Girl, there was a firework display just now in the direction of Baima Temple. It didn't look like it was set off from inside the temple, but rather from the area near the east wall outside the temple. The patrol soldiers guarding the city are already heading in that direction."
Yue Yinping put down her bowl and stood up. "It must be the Imperial City Guard testing us. They don't know the exact location of the handover point, so they're using fireworks to scare people away from the vicinity of Baima Temple. Whoever runs away, they'll be arrested."
Turning to Xiao Bieli, Yue Yinping said in a deep voice, "You can't go to Baima Temple tonight, but before the Guanyin Assembly, you must first make contact with the two backup messengers in Xiangyang City."
One is a cook at the White Horse Temple, and the other repairs bows and arrows at a stall near the south gate of Xiangyang. Both are former subordinates of my father, and they fought alongside you in Yancheng.
Yue Yinping paused for a moment and then continued, "The one who repairs bows and arrows in the south of the city is called Zhao Tieqiang."
Xiao Bieli's eyes flickered.
Zhao Tieqiang was the head of the crossbowmen squad under Zhang Xian during the Battle of Yancheng in the tenth year of Shaoxing. He was able to shoot through the face armor of the Jin army's Iron Pagoda from three hundred paces away with a foot-operated crossbow.
This person was ranked thirteenth on his list, and the destination column simply stated "Xiangyang".
"His bow and arrow repair stall will open at 7:00 AM tomorrow. You will blend in with the hunters who repair bows and make contact with him."
The code will be the same one you used back in the vanguard camp at Yancheng. He'll say the first line, and you'll reply with the second. The first line is "smoke signal," and the second line is "not extinguished."
Xiao Bieli silently repeated those two words in his mind.
The smoke signals have not yet died down.
In the autumn of the tenth year of Shaoxing, the vanguard battalion lined up at dawn every day, and Zhang Xian stood at the camp gate to ask for the password.
The smoke of war rises, but it has not yet died down.
At that time, Bianjing was right in front of them, and everyone believed that the next charge would be enough to take it back.
Early the next morning, Xiao Bieli changed into an old hunter's short coat, put on a sheepskin vest that was covered in the smell of firewood, hid the broken bamboo-scabbard knife in a bundle of firewood, and carried a load of firewood to sneak into the city through the south gate of Xiangyang.
The checks at the South Gate were stricter than usual, and the gatekeepers turned over the bottom of the baskets of everyone carrying loads into the city.
Xiao Bieli's bundle of firewood was turned over three times. The bamboo-sheathed knife was hidden in the heart of the firewood and was not touched. The gatekeeper asked a couple of questions and then waved him in.
Zhao Tieqiang's bow repair stall was set up under an old locust tree at the foot of the south corner tower of the city.
The stall was very small, consisting of only an old door panel placed on two benches, with a bow tip stand about half a person's height next to it, covered with various old bows and crossbow arms awaiting repair.
Zhao Tieqiang himself was sitting with his back to the street, changing the string on an old crossbow.
Xiao Bieli placed the firewood bundle next to the stall, squatted down in front of the door, and picked up an old bow with a broken string, pretending to examine it.
After a moment, he whispered the first line: "Smoke signals."
Zhao Tieqiang stopped.
The crossbow string snapped against the crossbow arm with a low, trembling sound. He didn't turn around, but continued changing the string, uttering two words: "Not yet destroyed."
He placed the crossbow, now with the new string, on the door panel, stood up, and walked deeper into the alley.
Xiao Bieli did not follow immediately. He waited for about half a cup of tea's time before leisurely leaving the bow repair stall and turning into the same narrow alley.
Zhao Tieqiang waited for him in an abandoned leather shop at the end of the alley, the shop filled with moldy old leather and broken shoe lasts.
"I thought you were dead," Zhao Tieqiang said.
"I almost ended up spending half a year in the Jin camp."
"I know, last year a tea merchant from the Ezhou direction passed through Xiangyang and said you were back."
"You also said you brought a younger sister with you, and you two survived together in the Jin camp." He paused. "Where is your sister now?"
"Lin'an, the Prince of Pu'an's residence."
Zhao Tieqiang remained silent for a while, then rubbed the corner of his eye with his rough fingers.
"Xiao Xianfeng, you didn't come to Xiangyang just to see me."
"No." Xiao Bieli took out the new communication code for the back hall of Baima Temple and the handover procedures for the new docks along the Han River from his pocket and placed them on the old workbench of the leather shop.
"From today onwards, you are no longer a crossbowman. You are the first secret agent between Lin'an and Xiangyang. Continue to repair bows during the day and go to the south corner tower of the city at night to watch out for anything unusual on the streets and unfamiliar civilian clothes."
Xiao Bieli paused for a moment and then asked, "Do you still have the foot-operated crossbow you used back then?"
"The crossbow body was hidden in the beam of the leather shop, and the string was stored in the ashes of the stove."
"Okay, put it back together." Xiao Bieli's voice deepened.
"In case the Imperial City Guard besieges the White Horse Temple, you can use the crossbows on the corner tower to sound the alarm. Three short arrows, two at a time, and everyone who has ever stayed in Yancheng can understand this signal."
Zhao Tieqiang stood up, placed the broken crossbow string on the door panel, and clasped his hands in a fist salute to Xiao Bieli.
He didn't say anything extra, he just repeated the old command: "Smoke signal."
"Not destroyed," Xiao Bieli replied.
......
At the end of February, Baima Temple was enveloped in the incense smoke of the Guanyin Association.
The area in front of the main hall was crowded with worshippers from all over Xiangyang, who lined up in long queues with incense baskets to offer their prayers.
The bronze bell in the bell tower strikes once every hour, its sound carrying only a muffled murmur in the spring mist, as if muffled by a damp cloth.
Xiao Bieli mingled among the pilgrims and entered the White Horse Temple.
He did not linger in the main hall, but walked along the corridor into the rear hall.
The rear hall enshrines Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva, but the incense offerings there are far less abundant than in the front hall, and in the corner sits an old monk dozing off.
Xiao Bieli squatted down and pretended to tie his shoelaces, his fingers tracing the seam between the stone steps of the palace gate and the corner of the wall.
The brick joints are still dry, showing no signs of recent rain, indicating that this junction has not been disturbed recently.
He gently pried open the third brick, and the half-section of dried cattail root underneath was still in place.
This is the original mark left by Qin Keqing and Yue Yinping last summer as a promise.
He placed a small, angular pebble next to the roots of the cattail, with the sharp end of the pebble pointing due north, according to the new code.
This indicates that the contact point has been confirmed safe and can be restored to use.
Then he put the bricks back on as they were, got up and walked out through the side door of the back hall without looking back.
At the kitchen of Baima Temple, Xiao Bieli found his second contact.
A young novice monk whose Buddhist name is Mingxin.
Mingxin was only fourteen years old. She was an orphan taken in by Yue Yinping outside Xiangyang City. Her father had served as a cook in Yue Family Army and disappeared after eleven years of Shaoxing.
Xiao Bieli patted his shoulder and took something out of his pocket and placed it in his hand.
It was a piece of osmanthus cake, brought from Lin'an. The three layers of oil paper were peeled off, leaving only a small piece. The cake was so dry that it cracked, but the fragrance of osmanthus was still there.