The small shops and vendors near the Qingpin Teahouse all knew that this dilapidated establishment had a new manager. There were only three people in the entire building.
The manager was handsome but useless; the accountant was so old it took him half a day to balance a single ledger; and the waiter, having no customers to serve all day, spent his time tending to the flower pots by the door until they were blooming with startling vigor.
The daily question on everyone's lips was: *When is that wreck of a teahouse finally going to close?*
Ye Zhao spent his days as the manager, stubbornly refusing to let the business go under. Based on the land value alone, he had to hold onto the property! As long as the State of Wei didn't collapse, land prices in the city would keep rising. There would be a profit to be made eventually.
The Yulin Guards assigned to monitor Ye Zhao spent their days spectating the daily life of a poor teahouse owner or watching a dandy enjoy a carefree life with his companions. Their small notebooks were filled with pages upon pages of mundane, trivial logs.
The most notable event so far was the appearance of Su Jinzhou among the handful of sparse customers; he was the most unexpected visitor to grace that run-down teahouse.
Wei Feng looked at their only lead so far—the captured man in black—and for once, he doubted his own judgment. After much thought, the most likely explanation was that the enemy had abandoned their designs on Ye Zhao. They probably didn't want to leave any more trails for the guards to follow just for the sake of one person.
But if that were the case, all their clues were severed.
"Commander, should we continue to watch Ye Zhao?" asked the leader of the Yulin Guards assigned to the task. Over a month had passed, and there hadn't been the slightest progress.
Wei Feng stared through the iron bars at the man in the water dungeon, who had been tortured beyond recognition. He didn't give the order immediately. After a long silence, he said, "Give Ye Zhao a *Fengxin*. Then you can withdraw your men."
"Yes, sir."
The subordinate didn't waste a word and retreated quickly. He could tell from the Commander’s low, suppressed tone that he was in a foul mood; staying any longer would be asking for trouble.
However, this case was truly the most difficult the Yulin Guards had ever encountered. That mysterious force seemed to have vanished into thin air, leaving not a single trace. It was truly bizarre.
Thus, one day, Ye Zhao was forced to accept a *Fengxin* from a Yulin Guard, who told him to fire it immediately if he encountered danger. Ye Zhao had heard of these "Signal Bolts"; they were supposedly used by the Yulin Guards to summon reinforcements during missions.
But why give one to him?
Ye Zhao was bewildered. "Why are you giving this to me?"
The guard glanced at him, clearly seeing that Ye Zhao was completely oblivious to the long-term surveillance. For a moment, the guard didn't know whether to be speechless or exasperated. "To save your life. Just take it. You might actually need it."
Ye Zhao: *Are you sure you aren't just cursing me?*
But the man vanished as soon as he finished speaking, leaving Ye Zhao no room to argue. Ye Zhao found it utterly baffling. He couldn't fathom why they would suddenly give him such a thing, feeling that it would likely never see the light of day in this lifetime.
However, as he looked at the Signal Bolt in his hand, an image flashed through his mind—pulling a string, the thing shooting into the sky, and exploding into a firework. Then, a term suddenly surfaced: "Signal gun."
"Eh? What’s a gun?" He was confused by his own thought.
The Signal Bolt was small. Ye Zhao looked at it for a moment before tossing it into his pouch and forgetting about it. He never expected that the day he would need it would come so soon.
***
The fifteenth day of the eighth lunar month: the Mid-Autumn Festival banquet was held at the Imperial Palace.
This, however, had nothing to do with Ye Zhao. Aside from the two times he had accompanied his parents to palace banquets as a child, he had never gone again. There was no point in going anyway...
He went to work at the teahouse as usual. Even on a holiday, he didn't slack off, mostly because his mother had given him a lecture the day before—half-encouragement, half-scolding—about the teahouse's poor business.
At dusk, remembering that no one was home, Ye Zhao decided to grab dinner outside after closing up.
"Boss, a bowl of wontons, please."
"Please wait a moment, young master," a deep, cold voice replied.
Attracted by the voice, Ye Zhao turned to look. The stall owner was a relatively young man who seemed silent and taciturn.
Ye Zhao turned back, a strange feeling bubbling in his heart. How should he put it? The owner's attitude seemed a bit too cold, and his tone was oddly formal, making Ye Zhao feel slightly uneasy. He couldn't help but wonder: *Was there always a wonton stall on this road?*
He didn't think so. This was the road he took home; he had walked it countless times and couldn't possibly be mistaken.
So, he asked, "Are you new to this spot? I don't think I've seen you here before."
"Yes."
The monosyllabic, brief answer made it impossible for Ye Zhao to continue the conversation.
Waiting was boring, so Ye Zhao idly scanned the nearby streets. There wasn't a soul in sight. He looked at the sky. *It’s not even dark yet?* It seemed everyone had gone home early today.
He withdrew his gaze and propped his chin on his hand, staring listlessly at the table. Perhaps because the surroundings were too quiet, a chill crept into his heart. At the same time, he felt as if someone was watching him. He couldn't see anyone, but the sensation was incredibly strong.
Since childhood, his thoughts and intuitions often came out of nowhere. He suddenly remembered the Signal Bolt the Yulin Guards had given him a few days ago, and the more he thought about it, the more uneasy he became.
He glanced down at the pouch on his waist.
In the next instant, a look of shock crossed his face, and he bolted upright. "Oh no! How could I have forgotten!"
He quickly turned to the boss and said, "Boss, go ahead and start the wontons. I’ll be right back..."
As he spoke, he had already stepped out of the stall, hurrying toward the teahouse with a frantic expression, as if he had suddenly remembered an urgent errand.
The young owner’s hand paused as he was about to scoop the cooked wontons from the pot. He watched Ye Zhao’s retreating back, his face masked with a murderous chill.
If Ye Zhao had initially thought he was just being paranoid, the faint, intermittent sound of footsteps from the shadows was the best evidence to the contrary. What started as an act of urgency had now become genuine desperation.
His destination was no longer the teahouse, but... the South City Gate!
Ye Zhao was truly grateful that his mother had dumped a teahouse on him right by the city gate. When he reached the front of the teahouse, he suddenly sprinted with all his might.
"HELP!!!"
His earth-shattering cry completely startled everyone in the vicinity. The people in the shadows realized they were exposed and stopped hiding.
Hearing the dense sound of footsteps behind him, Ye Zhao took a moment to glance back while running for his life.
"Holy crap!!!"
Not only was he terrified, but the soldiers guarding the South Gate were also frightened out of their wits. First, they heard a sudden cry for help, and then they looked up to see a young master in white robes sprinting toward them, followed by a literal swarm of men in black.
There were so many of them it made one's scalp tingle!
"This looks like an assassination attempt on the Emperor himself!" someone cried out in shock.
"Quick, quick, quick! Enemy attack!"
"Save him!"
"Who on earth did this kid offend?!"
Amidst the chaos, the soldiers at the gate panicked for a moment before drawing their weapons to form a defense. Ye Zhao lunged into their midst, gasping for air. He had nearly run himself to death; it wasn't easy trying to keep his little life intact.
He thought that upon seeing official soldiers, the group would retreat. To his surprise, after a moment's hesitation, they chose to press the attack. They acted as if they were determined to take his life, their moves ruthless and their strikes lethal.
Instantly, dozens of men in black clashed with the gate guards in a chaotic melee. Several times, the guards were too occupied to protect Ye Zhao, and it was only thanks to his quick reflexes that he dodged the danger.
Seeing the battle turn sour, Ye Zhao wanted to curse again. *What kind of grudge is this? Why are they so relentless?*
Suddenly, he remembered the item in his pouch, and his expression brightened. He pulled the string. A streak of red light shot into the sky, exploding into a red firework.
***
In Tianshangjing, Yulin Guards scattered throughout the city saw the red circular pattern in the sky. In the next moment, they shifted their steps and rushed toward the South Gate.
In front of the Taiji Hall, Wei Feng, who was on duty outside the doors, heard the sound and looked up. "So, they haven't given up yet."
The corners of his mouth slowly curled into a wide, eerie, and cold smile as he strode toward the palace gates.
***
Back at the gate, Ye Zhao clumsily dodged another blade after firing the Signal Bolt. He had thought the city guards would be able to stop this group, but it seemed that wasn't the case at all!
He looked anxiously toward the inner city, but the streets were empty; no reinforcements were in sight. His side was about to collapse!
Judging the situation, Ye Zhao thought: *I can't wait any longer!* If he waited, he was dead.
He watched the men in black with every nerve tensed, secretly shuffling along the base of the wall toward the right. He knew the streets and alleys of Tianshangjing better than anyone.
The southern part of the city was a large residential area for commoners, filled with endless small paths and complex alleys. As long as he could get in there, Ye Zhao was confident he could lose them. Then he could seek help at the Capital Prefecture, or if all else failed, run to the gates of the Imperial Palace—he’d like to see if they dared chase him there!
Ye Zhao’s plan was clear. He timed his move. One, two, three.
*Run!*
Ye Zhao didn't look back at those following him. He simply darted into the narrow alleys like a rat, weaving in and out at high speed.
However, the sound of footsteps remained stubbornly close behind him. Ye Zhao’s strength was failing, and he was panting heavily, but he didn't dare stop. If he stopped, they would catch him.
Suddenly, his foot stepped on a round, hard object. The sensation was different from the road he had been running on, and it felt like an electric shock to his system. A flash of inspiration struck his mind.
He looked down at the circular iron plate embedded in the ground.
...
A moment later, the sound of footsteps passed overhead. Ye Zhao finally breathed a sigh of relief and slumped onto the ground. "Thank God for my quick wits... hiding in the sewer..."
He tossed aside the small iron latch he had used. He was so exhausted he didn't want to move a muscle. Before him was a pitch-black tunnel, half a man's height, stretching deep into the unknown.
After resting for a while, Ye Zhao hesitated briefly before crawling into the tunnel. If he stayed above ground, there was no guarantee he wouldn't run into that gang again. It was better to be cautious.
In the darkness, he couldn't see his own hand in front of his face. It was hot, stuffy, and filled with the peculiar stench of long-term enclosure—a smell like moldy, rotting socks that made Ye Zhao feel nauseous.
He moved through the tunnel like a blind man, hunched over and feeling his way forward step by step. He bumped his head occasionally, and his back ached from the constant bending. Before long, his hands were covered in black soot.
As time passed, the darkness made his other senses sharper. He could even hear the thumping of his own accelerating heartbeat.
After an unknown amount of time, Ye Zhao’s forehead slammed into a wall. "Ow!"
"Sss—" He instinctively tried to straighten his back, but the ache made him gasp. However, he slowly realized that he could stand up straighter than before.
He reached up and touched the ceiling. It was wood. Just like when he entered, he exerted some effort to move the wooden board, then felt for the iron latch on the circular plate above it. After fiddling with it, he pushed hard.
Moonlight spilled into the hole. Ye Zhao closed his eyes, unaccustomed to the light. Once he adjusted, he scrambled out using both hands and feet.
He collapsed on the ground like a dead dog, his limbs splayed out in the shape of the character 'Big' (大).
The hair on his forehead was plastered to his head with sweat, and his body was drenched in a foul-smelling perspiration. He was covered in grime, with sand and dirt stuck in his hair. His clothes were a mess of gray and white patches; he looked as if he had rolled through a dirt pit several times.
Only after he had rested enough did Ye Zhao have the energy to look around. "Where am I?"
He was inside a stone grotto within a rockery. He stood up and restored the "manhole cover" to its original state.
Leaving through the only small path, he walked slowly, observing his surroundings. As the path grew wider, he thought: *Did I accidentally break into someone's back garden?*
Under the night sky, the rockery was jagged and uneven. In the dim light, he could see flowers in the garden budding and sleeping. It was peaceful and quiet, punctuated only by the occasional croak of a frog. Having met no one, the scene allowed Ye Zhao to relax from the terror of the chase.
As he walked, he saw someone carrying a lantern on the path ahead. Ye Zhao felt a surge of joy, followed by a jolt of alarm. As he drew closer, he saw clearly that the person was wearing the uniform of a palace maid!
*Does this count as trespassing into the Imperial Palace?*
Ye Zhao froze. Hearing footsteps behind her, the maid turned around. "Who is it?"
Ye Zhao looked around. He thought about hiding but decided against it, stepping out openly. "...I’m lost. May I ask where this is?"
Hearing a male voice, the little maid was startled at first. Then, she plucked up her courage and held the lantern closer to Ye Zhao. Seeing his attire and his disheveled state, she thought for a moment and sighed in relief. "This is the Imperial Garden."
"I shall lead the young master to the main hall," she said. Clearly, she had mistaken Ye Zhao for a son of some noble family who had come for the banquet and gotten lost.
Ye Zhao thought this was for the best; it was better than being mistaken for an assassin. "Much obliged."
The maid nodded and silently led the way with her lantern. Ye Zhao followed.
Before long, they arrived before a majestic hall. Just as they reached the base of the steps, the maid bowed. "I can only take you this far. Ahead is the Taiji Hall. I have other duties, so I shall take my leave."
"Thank you."
Ye Zhao thanked her, and she walked away with light steps.
***
**Glossary**
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
--- | --- | ---
清贫茶楼 | Qingpin Teahouse | Ye Zhao's teahouse. "Qingpin" means poor/impoverished.
羽林卫 | Yulin Guards | The elite Imperial Guards.
魏风 | Wei Feng | Commander of the Yulin Guards.
风信 | Fengxin / Signal Bolt | A distress signal flare used by the Yulin Guards.
天上京 | Tianshangjing | The capital city of the State of Wei.
太极殿 | Taiji Hall | The main hall of the Imperial Palace.
御花园 | Imperial Garden | The private garden of the Imperial Palace.
下水道 | Sewer / Drainage system | Ye Zhao's modern term for the underground tunnels.
