Going to Beiyang

Night fell.

Suhe returned from Xunjin Division.

His family lived in a remote alley in the capital city, and his neighbors were neither poor nor rich.

There were no lights on in the house. Su He walked to the kitchen in the dark, looked around to make sure no one was outside the window, then squatted down by the stove, grabbed the groove on the edge of the bluestone slab, and slowly lifted it up.

Below the stone slab is a narrow set of steps.

Suhe lit a candle, shielded the flame, and walked down the steps.

This is a cellar, which the previous owner used to store food for winter. Suhe converted it into a workroom.

The cellar was small, with a table, a chair, and the four walls covered with paper.

Suhe placed the candle on the table, picked up the tinderbox, and lit another one. The light from the two candles illuminated the four walls clearly, revealing words all over them.

There are original texts excerpted from old files, his own analysis, fragments cut from maps, and timelines marked with vermilion pen.

At the heart of all the information is a portrait of Yan Zu.

Portraits of that person are easy to buy; they are sold in every bookstore. However, portraits from the Republican era have all been beautified by artists and differ greatly from Yan Zu's actual appearance.

The one that Suhe hangs in his home is a sketch he made based on descriptions in old files.

He had black hair, which was neither tied up nor crowned, and wore gray clothes; his face looked young.

This is Yan Zu.

At least Suhe is willing to think that way.

He took out a roll of yellow paper, spread it on the table, stared at it for a few moments, then dipped his brush in ink and wrote down what he had learned that day.

[In Beiyang Prefecture, while searching for immortals atop a mountain, 260 people died and 351 were injured. A gray-clad expert was witnessed descending the mountain; he had black hair and appeared to be in his twenties. He is suspected to be the one who destroyed the city.]

He paused, then added another line next to it.

[It closely matches the image of Yan Zu.]

After finishing and looking at it for a few more moments, Suhe hung the paper on the right wall.

There are already more than a dozen similar papers on this wall.

The earliest photo is from four years ago, and the latest one is from the day before yesterday, still smelling of ink. The locations are scattered all over the world.

If viewed individually, each story seems like a folk tale, but when put together, it's as if someone traveled from the southwest to the northeast, then back to Dongzhou, making a loop around the old territory of Yan.

Suhe took two steps back, rubbing her chin as she stared at them.

There are many masters in the world who wear gray clothes, and there are also people who have the secret to preserving their youthful appearance.

But the gray clothes, black hair, the face of someone in their early twenties, the strength that overwhelmed all the immortal seekers on the mountain, and the disappearance of the Ghost Saint before his death—these clues piled up one by one, and Su He couldn't dismiss them as mere coincidences.

Although he does not yet have concrete evidence.

But Suhe was willing to speculate, or rather, to fantasize, imagining that the person might be on the road, east of Beiyang Prefecture, perhaps having already passed through a certain county, eaten a cold pancake, and continued onward.

The candlelight in the cellar flickered until midnight before going out.

That night, Suhe lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.

He found that he was no longer satisfied with merely imagining that person's towering figure in his mind.

He wanted to see it for himself, to confirm it personally; he really, really wanted to.

"Find an opportunity to go there."

Suhe's murmur echoed in the darkness.

...

From that night on, Suhe planned and looked for opportunities every day during her shifts.

Seven days later, the opportunity came.

While sorting through a backlog of strange tales, he came across a record from three years ago.

That was a routine report from Changluo County, Beiyang Prefecture.

According to the laws of Yan Kingdom, each county must submit a summary of its archives to the Xun Jin Si every six months, which should be a concise overview.

These things are just going through the motions now. The files are piled up in one place to gather dust, and after three years, when no one reviews them, they will be burned together.

The copy Su He found was exactly three years old; the paper was yellowed, and it read:

[A report from Guhuai Village in Changluo County alleges that the village is haunted; the county government has sent people to verify the claim... but the official statement says "no evidence found."]

When Su He saw the three words "Beiyang Prefecture" on the cover, his eyes lit up. He knew his chance had come.

The Xun Jin Division has one responsibility: to investigate and verify the authenticity of information.

The court's initial aim was to "supplement the amount of information and prevent omissions and false reports."

However, the journey is long and the mountains are high, so the reimbursement is pitifully small, sometimes not even enough to cover the travel expenses, and there is also the possibility of disputes with local government officials.

Some people tried it and then didn't want to go anymore. It was simply a thankless task, and over time, no one would take the initiative to apply for on-site inspections.

However, the imperial court has annual performance evaluation targets in this area, and the Xun Jin Si (a department responsible for investigating and eliminating corruption) will select a few unlucky individuals each year to meet these targets.

And this was Suhe's excuse for withdrawing.

Nobody wants to do it, so applying is easier. As long as you follow the proper procedures, the higher-ups will most likely not stop you.

The plan for cooperation between the two sides had been in the works for a long time, and the wording had been prepared long ago.

The eighth day.

He was writing a fieldwork application while lying on the table. When he got to the "reason for investigation" section, he wrote the following six characters: "Suspected unexplained ghosts".

Suhe folded the application and headed towards her superior's office.

My immediate superior's surname is Zhou, his given name is Fu, he is a seventh-rank official, and he is the head of the Treasury Department.

Zhou Fu's hair had turned white, and he had a round face. He smiled at everyone he met.

Suhe had followed him for five years and had never seen him lose his temper, but Suhe also knew that Zhou Fu was no pushover. Anyone who could hold a stable position in the Xun Jin Division was no pushover.

The door was ajar, and the sound of Zhou Fu turning over paper could be heard from inside.

After silently reciting his words several times, Suhe knocked on the door.

"Come in," the person inside said.

Su He pushed open the door and went in.

Zhou Fu sat behind the desk, a document spread out in front of him. He looked up, a slight smile playing on his lips: "What is it?"

"Lord Zhou," Su He handed over the application, "there is a backlog of strange cases in Changluo County, reported three years ago. I feel that the case was approved too quickly, and I would like to investigate it."

Zhou Fu took the application, glanced at it, and raised his eyebrows slightly.

"Beiyang Prefecture?"

He turned to the second page, saw the reason for the investigation, and glanced at Su He again. "Although Beiyang Prefecture isn't exactly a remote area, it's still two prefectures away from the capital. What are you doing going all that way there?"

Su He smiled and said casually, "Now that I've finished my work, I might as well go out and explore the local customs and culture. It will be helpful for organizing the files later."

"Have you finished the task Wu Huaiyi gave you?"

"Completed, submitted to the second floor."

Zhou Fu didn't ask any more questions. He flipped the application back to the first page, picked up a pen, and signed his name in the approval column.

"Return before the autumn harvest."

He pushed the application back and took out a token from the drawer, saying, "Don't waste time, and don't clash with the local government."

Suhe took the token. The waist tag was made of wood, with "Xun Jin Si Field Mission" engraved on the back and a number on the front.

After a short while, Su He emerged from Xun Jin Si. Everything went more smoothly than expected, and he appeared energetic.

I'm leaving today; I don't want to waste a single moment.

Before setting off, he returned home and burned all the papers about Yan Zu in the cellar, taking them off one by one and throwing them into the stove.

He had spent countless nights copying each sheet of paper, so naturally he felt a pang of heartache.

But if these things are seen by others, he won't even have a "what if" chance; someone with ulterior motives can easily accuse him of blasphemy.

After burning the food, Suhe carried the bundle and went out the door.

He didn't go to the stable to get a horse. The official horses he was assigned were of ordinary breed, not fast, and required him to rest two or three times a day.

Suhe went directly to Xuanma Trading Company in the city.

The Xuanma has the bloodline of a demon beast, is half a head taller than ordinary horses, and has far greater endurance and speed than ordinary horses, but the rental fee is frighteningly expensive, three coins of silver per day.

Suhe gritted his teeth and paid the money. By the time he left the city, it was already completely dark.

The black horse neighed, its hooves clattering on the stone path in the dead of night, heading north.

The lanterns on the corner tower of the imperial city in the distance flickered, their light dimming, as if something was watching him from the shadows.