The journey was peaceful. The group of carriages moved forward on the official road. Occasionally, they could find the traces of the Hu people's bloody surprise attacks. Every time this happened, Fan Xian would get out of the carriage and look for a while. Then, he would have his subordinate Second Bureau intelligence officers carefully gather all kinds of information.
Stopping and walking like this, it only took them six days to arrive at the most remote and shortest-lived city in the Qing Kingdom, Qingzhou.
Qingzhou was very different from what Fan Xian had imagined. Before coming here, he had carefully looked at the intelligence reports in the Council and had even specifically asked the Great Prince about the specific situation on the western front. He had thought that Qingzhou was just a rather desolate and run-down border city, more like a heavily guarded military camp. Unexpectedly, when his group entered the city, they found that other than the soldiers walking back and forth, most of the people in the city were merchants.
Merchants like Fan Xian walked through the few remaining streets and alleys in Qingzhou with hurried expressions. They hurried to exchange documents for exiting the border. In a loud voice, they called for hard labor and carefully stared at the goods they had brought to the border. All of this made Qingzhou lose some of its iron and blood color. Instead, it gained the rich smell of money. It appeared particularly messy.
Fan Xian had thought that the court had set up a province here mainly for symbolic meaning. Qingzhou would be particularly small and dry. He had not thought that this place would have the feeling of a little Suzhou. He sat on the shaft of the carriage and looked at the scene in front of him with a pained smile. He didn't know what to say.
Speaking of which, Qingzhou's abnormal prosperity was inextricably linked to Fan Xian. In the small city, most of the brave merchants who were busy entering the grasslands came from Jiangnan. The Qing court had always strictly prohibited trading with the Hu people. Three years ago, Fan Xian had remonstrated with the Emperor and secretly relaxed this rule.
Salt, iron, and grain were strictly prohibited from being sold to the Hu people. But, what was there to be afraid of selling luxury goods like jewelry, perfume, and strong alcohol to the Hu people? For one, it could bring a lot of income to the Qing national treasury because the nobles in the Hu tribes, who controlled more than 90 percent of the wealth, greatly welcomed these things. For another, it made it easier to send spies into the grasslands.
Fan Xian had seen this in the past, but he had not personally come to Qingzhou. He indeed did not know that one thought of his had allowed Qingzhou to develop so quickly in just a few short years. It had already surpassed his imagination.
It looked like they could earn the Hu people's gems, good horses, and blankets by using some small things that were not particularly valuable. Such a large profit made the Qing merchants extremely excited. They were willing to risk the danger of the two sides fighting endlessly and go deep into the grasslands to trade.
Marx's words were very good, Fan Xian thought. He also had a plan in his heart. Since there were so many people covering for him, he should still be able to go to the grasslands.
The border army stationed in Green Province was especially strict towards these merchants. Even though those merchant companies vigorously stuffed banknotes into the officers' hands, they still didn't speed up the inspection. Fan Xian and his group waited at the city gate for a long time but found it difficult to move forward.
The autumn sun hung in the sky above the grasslands. It was a blazing white. Although it did not give the merchants and soldiers in the city too much of a test of heat, this kind of brightness made people's emotions begin to become irritated.
After all, Qingzhou was too special. It was a strange city formed by soldiers and traveling merchants. When the soldiers became irritated, their attitude toward the merchants became much worse. Although the merchants' emotions were similarly irritated, they still lowered their heads and smiled obsequiously.
Until today, the soldiers of the Western Camp still could not understand why the Imperial Court would allow these greedy bastards to pass through Qingzhou and enter the grasslands to curry favor with their mortal enemies, the Hu people. As they sent out the documents, they were cursing in their hearts with ill intentions. They hoped that these shameless bastards who did not care about their lives for money would die on the grasslands under the arrows of the Hu people and never come back.
Outside the inspection yamen, there were a few black-robed Overwatch Council officials sitting beside the officers and supervising the inspection of goods. Fan Xian gave Mu Feng 'er a meaningful glance. Mu Feng' er immediately understood his meaning and began to prepare to secretly make contact with these colleagues of the Fourth Bureau.
After arranging everything, Fan Xian impatiently continued to wait in the carriages. He jumped off the shaft of the carriage and patted the dust off his bottom. Leading a subordinate disguised as a servant, he walked into Qingzhou.
He pulled open his collar and raised his head to look at the white sun that had shrunk into a small circle in the sky with narrowed eyes. He also felt irritated in his heart, but he didn't sweat. He was very upset.
Suddenly, the Qingzhou city gate not far behind him suddenly opened. A series of urgent and orderly horse hooves rang out outside the city gate, startling the long line of merchants waiting to inspect the goods.
Everyone looked toward the city gate with curiosity. They didn't know which troop had returned. The troops returning at this time should have been out hunting rabbits on the grasslands after not returning all night.
Hunting rabbits was a slang on the border. It had the same meaning as the Hu people's so-called gathering grass and grain. The Qing Kingdom and Xi Hu had continuously stabbed at each other. They relied on this kind of sweeping and counter-sweeping to maintain the blood hatred between them. Although the Qing army was powerful, the troops that dared to leave the city to fight in the middle of the night still appeared very courageous.
Fan Xian also heard the dense sound of horse hooves. He pulled his gaze back from the sky and looked toward the city gate.
Perhaps it was because the sun in the sky was too hot that it left a burning white mark on his retina. When he gazed at the group of weather-beaten riders outside the city gate, particularly the general at the very front of the riders, it was like he was looking at the sun.
…
…
The general leading the riders bravely attacking the grasslands at night was not tall. Contrasted by the armor, she appeared slightly thin and small. However, Fan Xian felt that her body was suffused with light.
Especially the pair of eyes under her eyebrows that were as dark as the distant mountains.
Her eyes were still very bright, so bright that there was not a trace of impurity. They were like jade reflecting the sunlight. However, her brows were furrowed. It seemed that she was thinking more than many years ago. The armor on her body was stained with blood. The horse beneath her was very tired. It looked like she had experienced a true battle last night.
As if pierced by that pair of clean eyes, Fan Xian closed his eyes and lowered his head, hoping that she had not discovered him. A strange feeling welled up in his heart. This scene seemed to prove that something like time did not just advance in one direction.
Five years ago, Fan Xian had come to Jingdou from Danzhou. Outside the city gate, he had seen this girl with brows like distant mountains and eyes like jade. However, the girl who had called him teacher back then wore a light-colored dress and a playful white deerskin hat. Today, the girl was wearing a dusty military uniform and had an awe-inspiring aura.
Time had changed many people and changed many people. It seemed that the only thing that did not change was their names.
Fan Xian lowered his head deeply and used his subordinate's body to hide his figure. On the horse, Ye Ling 'er was clearly tired. She did not notice that there were old acquaintances among the merchants on the side of the street. When the merchants realized that the leader of the riders was Ye Ling 'er, they withdrew their gazes.
These merchants, who had come to Qingzhou for many years, were already used to this scene. Since it was the young lady of the Ye family who led the troops out of the city, regardless of whether it was night or day, she would have to kill some Hu people before she was willing to return to the city.
Two years had passed since the Jingdou rebellion. The Emperor was grateful for the Ye family's loyalty and gave a special edict to take away Ye Ling 'er's title of wangfei. In reality, he was silently allowing this girl to remarry.
In the old territory of the Dingzhou army, all of the soldiers and commoners were used to calling this girl who had returned home Lady Ye. No one was used to calling her wangfei. However, Ye Ling 'er stubbornly called herself wangfei. It was only a year ago that she had taken a knife and forced Li Hongcheng to send her to Qingzhou.
…
…
Fan Xian watched the thin figure on the horse gradually move further and further away. He was silent. He knew very well about Ye Ling 'er's life these two years in Dingzhou and Qingzhou. He also understood why Ye Ling' er persisted in calling herself wangfei and why Ye Ling 'er wore a suit of armor.
Perhaps it was only on the grasslands when she brandished a sword that she would forget the unhappy past. The environment of the grasslands and a life of iron and blood were indeed the best ways to make a person strong.
The daughter of the Head of the Bureau of Military Affairs, the daughter of the person in charge of the Qing Kingdom's military, was fighting head-on with the enemy on the most dangerous frontier. This was probably something that had never happened before in history. Because of this drama, what Ye Ling 'er received was no longer just sympathetic gazes and rumors, but respect and fear.
Fan Xian was not worried about Ye Ling 'er's safety because Li Hongcheng would certainly not let Ye Ling' er sink into a dangerous situation. The people on both sides of the frontier all had a natural respect for the Ye family. The riders Ye Ling 'er led were certainly the elite of the elite of the Qing army.
Ye Ling 'er had the strength of a seventh-level martial artist. It was enough to protect herself. Most importantly, this path of forgetting had been chosen by Ye Ling' er herself. Fan Xian greatly respected this.
… …
With great difficulty, Mu Feng 'er exchanged for the document to leave the frontier. After being pulled by the Qingzhou military and reprimanded by the ear and endlessly intimidated by the dangers of the Hu people on the grasslands, he finally completed all the necessary procedures with a helpless expression.
The goods were gathered in the Qingzhou yamen. When they left the city and entered the grasslands, they would have to use the pass in their hands to pick them up. This was also because they were afraid that after the goods were inspected, some people would secretly tamper with them.
Smuggling such things was rampant no matter which frontier it was. Some military officers would even bring in small groups. However, the Dingzhou General's manor turned a blind eye to this matter. Qingzhou was isolated on the edge of the grasslands. Life was unspeakably bitter. If there wasn't some outside money, no military officer would be willing to stay here for a long time.
That night, Fan Xian and his group rested in a large shared bed. The entire large room was filled with the stench of feet. The night was bone-chilling. Fan Xian used his "privilege" to sleep against the wall. Although it was the coldest, it was also the quietest.
Mu Feng 'er lay beside him and repeatedly asked for forgiveness in a quiet voice. Fan Xian smiled and didn't say anything. In everyone's eyes, he was a descendant of the heavens. Not many people knew what kind of hardship he had suffered in his two lives. When it came to enduring hardship, everyone underestimated him.
The night grew darker. A few strange movements came from outside the shared bed. Mu Feng 'er, who had not slept, immediately woke up and prepared to inform Sir Fan junior. Unexpectedly, when he turned his face, he saw Fan Xian's bright and calm eyes shining with light in the night.
Like a wolf.
The two of them quietly rose and met with the official of the Fourth Bureau of the Overwatch Council. It was the clever person who had secretly sent the knife to Jingdou. In a dark corner of the courtyard, Fan Xian lowered his voice and asked the official, "How many of these knives are there?"
"Just this one," the official quickly replied. The official quickly replied, "Originally, there were three, but after I took one, I found that the other two were gone the next day."
Fan Xian's heart chilled. "Could it be?"
The official knew what he meant and shook his head. "It's not from the Western University. These spoils of war are not eye-catching. They are all piled up in the warehouse and no one notices. As for those two knives … they should have been stolen by someone. I'm not sure who stole it."
"You didn't watch that night?" Fan Xian stared into the official's eyes.
The official raised his head and replied in a small voice, "I watched all night and didn't find anything …" He paused and then said, "If someone could steal a knife in front of me, it must be an ace."
For some reason, Fan Xian trusted this subordinate's confident judgment. He smiled and asked, "How high?"
"As high as the ninth-level," the subordinate replied cutely.
After a few words, Fan Xian found that he liked this Fourth Bureau official whose name he didn't know very much. He didn't know where this liking came from. He glanced at the official curiously and didn't say anything. He thought to himself that the ninth-level disciples under heaven were all famous and powerful figures. How could a ninth-level appear in this remote Qingzhou?
Although liking was liking, Fan Xian's eyes under his slightly lowered eyelids became icy. His fingers bent slightly, ready to strike and kill the official in front of him at any moment.
"One last question. Why are you so interested in this knife?"
The knife that had been broken in the carriage had a very common style. If Fan Xian had not been very familiar with the material used to make the knife, he would not have discovered the hidden danger within.
The Fourth Bureau official did not feel Fan Xian's hidden but unreleased killing intent. Very respectfully, he said, "Sir, I am a member of the Qinian Unit."
The official knelt on one knee and presented an item with both hands. Fan Xian accepted the item and slowly stroked it in his palm. His heart was empty. This was the token of his most loyal subordinate. However, he truly knew nothing about this official's existence.
He confirmed the other's identity and no longer had any doubts. He nodded his head.
The official stood and said in a low voice, "I was personally chosen by Sir Wang to join the team. However, I have never stood out. A few years ago, I had been in the three large workshops. At the beginning of this year, I was moved to Qingzhou. Looking at this knife, I felt it was strange because this knife embryo should be a type B steel from the third large workshop. In the past, the weapons produced by the palace treasury may have been lost on the battlefield, but this kind of knife has not been distributed to the military. I felt the situation was urgent, so I quickly informed you. "
Fan Xian nodded and took a deep breath. He knew his good luck was still continuing. However, he didn't know who the ninth-level ace who had stolen the two knives was. He secretly deduced that if that person was his enemy, the court would probably be full of words attacking him for treason by now. Since the court was quiet, it meant that the person who had stolen the knives also wanted to help him cover up.
"So, you were personally chosen by Lao Wang." In the darkness, Fan Xian smiled. It was impossible to see that his smile was slightly twisted. "No wonder your words are so … interesting."
Fan Xian opened his mouth again and said, "Concerning the name Songzhi Xianling, have you found anything?"
The official stood and reported seriously, "There have indeed been a few more outsiders in the Hu King's camp these two years, but there is no Songzhi Xianling. I have no leads."
"Hmm," Fan Xian said. "I have already had the Second Bureau investigate this name. Wait here. Once there is news, immediately send someone into the grasslands to inform me."
"You are going to the grasslands?"
"I am going to find the person who stole the knives." Fan Xian's voice was very cold. Immediately after, it softened. He patted the official's shoulder and said, "You did well this time. After you finish investigating this case, return to the capital to help me."
"Thank you for your promotion …" The official was overjoyed and knelt down to accept the order. He lowered his voice but could not suppress his joy. "I haven't seen Sir Wang in two years. I wonder if he is well."
Concerning Wang Qinian's whereabouts, Fan Xian had never made it clear to the officials in the Council. Everyone, including Yan Bingyun and the others, thought that Lao Wang had gone to carry out the Commissioner's secret mission. No one suspected anything. The Overwatch Council officials on the periphery knew even less.
Hearing these words, Fan Xian was silent. He thought to himself, Wang Qinian, that old bastard. He has already left, yet he continues to help me. How could I not miss him?
…
…
The opening ceremony of the Paralympics last night was very good. If there are friends who didn't watch it, it would be best to watch the replay. Otherwise, it would be a pity …
Another thing: Yesterday, I watched Zhang Xiaohua's First Chaos in History. I've been nurturing him for a few months. After watching it all in one go, I almost laughed my head off. Talent is talent, this is rare … speaking of which, why does Sixth Liu's surname just happen to be Liu? His words were too biased, too biased …
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