blueteamnovel Chapter 22: The Mayor and the Captain's Doomsday Deal
Chapter 22: The Mayor and the Captain's Doomsday Deal
When Lin Yan returned to the cellar in the east of the city, bathed in the dew of early morning, only a faint glimmer of dawn appeared on the horizon amidst the deep darkness, like water stains seeping through the edge of rice paper; it was still far from true daylight. He reached out and pushed aside the old wooden plank covering the cave entrance, and a scent mixed with the warm fragrance of lamp oil wafted over his face—Su Qingyao had returned before him and lit a celadon oil lamp. The flame flickered twice, casting her shadow, which was sometimes long and sometimes short, onto the earthen wall at the cave entrance.
"Lin Yan!" Upon seeing him, she initially breathed a sigh of relief, her voice trembling slightly. However, as her gaze swept over the dark red bloodstains on his clothes and the mud and bits of grass clinging to his trousers, her breath caught in her throat again. She quickly stepped forward to check on him, "How did you get like this? Did you break any bones?"
Lin Yan gently pressed her hand, his fingertips touching the thin calluses on her palm—the result of years of copying documents with a pen, now as cool as if soaked in dew. "It's just a superficial wound, nothing serious." He sat down on the haystack in the corner of the cellar, his brow furrowing as soon as his back touched the earthen wall—although most of the broken bone had been healed, a slight pain still lingered after his climb and escape through the valley, like insects gnawing at the bone crevices. He sat cross-legged, his fingertips forming a meditation mudra, and as he closed his eyes to regulate his breathing, beads of sweat rolled down his chin and onto his front, leaving a small damp patch.
Su Qingyao didn't say much. She turned around and took out some medicine and a clean strip of cloth from a cloth bag in the corner of the wall. The cloth was cut from her own petticoat; it was fine cotton and soft, and it still had a faint scent of soap. She gently placed the items next to Lin Yan, then took some dry firewood from the corner of the wall and added it to the oil lamp. The firelight immediately became brighter, making the fine down on her eyelashes clearly visible.
She was always methodical, but now she showed an unusual thoughtfulness—first, she moved the oil lamp to the side and behind Lin Yan so that the light could shine on his back without being too bright; then she took out two clean handkerchiefs, folded one into a small pillow and placed it under Lin Yan's wrist so that his wrist bones would not dig into the ground when he was regulating his breathing; the other handkerchief was soaked in warm water, wrung out half dry, and placed next to the medicine bowl.
When she turned around, she walked very lightly, but her gaze kept drifting to the beads of sweat on his forehead. When she saw another bead of sweat, she quietly handed him a damp handkerchief without saying a word, and simply placed the handkerchief within his reach.
Half an hour later, Lin Yan exhaled a breath of stale air, which condensed into a small cloud of white mist in front of the lamp before dissipating. When he opened his eyes, the weariness in them had lessened considerably, but his face still bore the pallor of blood loss. He reached for the medicine bowl, only to find it still warm to the touch—the medicine paste was still lukewarm. Looking up, he saw Su Qingyao with her back to him, organizing her medicine packet, her shoulders and neck slightly tense, clearly keeping a close eye on what was happening.
"How's it going on your end?" he asked, his voice slightly softer than before. "The wolf pack didn't follow the scent, did they?"
"Thank goodness you gave me such detailed instructions." She turned back and pushed the prepared medicine paste towards him again, her voice tinged with lingering fear. "I crouched on that big blue rock, only daring to cover my mouth and nose with my clothes, barely daring to breathe heavily. Those demon wolves howled and chased after you, their tails didn't even swipe in my direction." She paused here, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the rim of the porcelain bowl. "But you—those vines on the mountain wall looked so delicate, and there's a deep valley below, weren't you afraid…?"
"I've checked it. The vines have sinews hidden in their stems; even if two or three strong men were to hang them, they wouldn't break." Lin Yan picked up a strip of cloth, dipped it in the medicinal paste, and rubbed it on his back. When he moved a little too vigorously, sweat beaded on his forehead. Seeing this, Su Qingyao subconsciously leaned forward, but then stopped herself, only pushing the handkerchief half an inch closer to his hand.
"I didn't expect there to be a series of traps around the wolf den. They are stone piles engraved with runes, which look like ancient relics. It seems that the demon wolves found them by chance and used them as guards."
Upon hearing this, Su Qingyao frowned even more deeply. She took out a plain handkerchief from her bosom and handed it to Lin Yan. Seeing him take it and wipe his sweat, she whispered, "These kinds of ancient traps are the most insidious." After speaking, her gaze fell on the bloodstains on his clothes, then looked away. She got up to rummage through her medicine packet. "I remember there's some pain-relieving powder left. Mixing it with other medicine might help."
Lin Yan watched her busy figure, wanting to say something, but saw that she had already prepared the medicine powder, her movements as gentle as if she were handling fragile porcelain. "Did you get something in the valley?" she asked, her voice low.
Lin Yan then took out something from his robes—a palm-sized black bone fragment with smooth edges, engraved with twisted demonic runes, and several pigeon-egg-sized blood crystals. Holding them up to the lamp, it appeared as if blood beads were slowly flowing within the dark red crystals, casting an eerie red hue on the lamplight. He gently placed these items beside the oil lamp. "I originally intended to search for traces of demonic wolves, but I found these next to a pile of bones."
Su Qingyao picked up the bone fragment and brought it close to the lamp to examine it closely. Her fingertips trembled slightly as she traced the demonic runes. She recognized some ancient inscriptions, and the more she looked, the more somber her expression became, until even her lips lost their color. "This is... a bone fragment recording human sacrifice." Her voice was as soft as if she were blowing out a lamp. "It says that the sacrifice must be performed on a dark and windy night, and that the blood of refugees must be used to fill the spiritual spring. And... and the method for making this blood crystal."
She picked up a blood crystal and held it up to the light, making the blood-red image within the crystal even clearer. "Each stone like this costs a living life." Her voice suddenly choked, and a tear fell onto the blood crystal, rolling down its edge like a tear mingled with blood. "Those refugees... Yesterday, when I went to the refugee camp, I saw a child in a blue cotton jacket, clutching a moldy cornbread, asking me if I could get a bowl of hot water for his mother."
Lin Yan remained silent, then reached out and patted her shoulder. The cellar was quiet, save for the crackling of the oil lamp and Su Qingyao's suppressed sobs. He recalled the altar of bones deep in the valley, piled up to half a person's height, the hollow skulls facing the sky as if silently weeping. The dozen or so corpses before the altar were still warm, their coarse cloth clothes torn to shreds—those people, like the child in the blue cotton jacket, had probably longed for a bowl of hot water and a mouthful of coarse grains.
After a long while, Su Qingyao wiped away her tears with a handkerchief, her eyes filled with only cold resolve. "The contract, the ledger, this bone fragment, and the blood crystal—every single one of them is irrefutable evidence. As long as we put them out in public under the notice board at the town entrance, Chen Fuhai and Zhao Mang won't be able to defend themselves even if they have ten mouths, and they won't escape death."
Lin Yan shook his head, tapping the earthen wall beside him with his fingertips, sending a few specks of dust falling. "This isn't enough."
"What do you mean it's not enough?" Su Qingyao asked in astonishment. "Isn't all this enough to prove their crimes of reselling demon-suppressing grains and using living people to refine stones?"
"The evidence is clear, but the death penalty is futile." Lin Yan picked up the ledger, his fingertip tracing Chen Fuhai's signature. "Chen Fuhai served as the mayor of Black Stone Town for eight years. Half of the grain shops and pharmacies in the town are related to him; Zhao Mang's demon-suppressing soldiers control the entrances and exits of the town. With just these inanimate objects, they can easily say 'it was their subordinates acting on their own,' and then send out two scapegoats to clear their names. Those townspeople are always opportunists; seeing the official's authority, they'll only say we're 'falsely accusing the official.'"
Su Qingyao then realized what she meant, her fingertips digging into her palm. "You mean, you want them to admit it themselves?"
"Exactly." Lin Yan's gaze fell on the flickering flame of the oil lamp. "It would be best to make them confess their crimes clearly when they are completely unprepared, and then record it with a photographic stone—this kind of 'living evidence' is the nail that nails them to the coffin."
"But they're already like frightened birds, how could they say such things in front of outsiders?" Su Qingyao frowned, twisting the handkerchief out of shape. "The other day, Granny Wang was taken away by Zhao Mang for questioning, and after returning, she was so scared that she didn't dare to leave the house. It's clear that they're already seeing threats everywhere."
Lin Yan suddenly smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes; it only lingered on the corner of his lips. "Outsiders are obviously out of the question, but they can't always be on guard against each other. Especially when discussing how to 'clean up the mess'—the contract was stolen last night, and they must be as anxious as ants on a hot pan right now, so they'll inevitably get together to discuss it."
Su Qingyao's eyes brightened, then dimmed again. "You want to eavesdrop? How can that be allowed! The town mayor's mansion and the demon-suppressing bureau must be heavily guarded right now. Not even a fly could get in. If you go, wouldn't you be like a lamb entering a tiger's den?" As she spoke, her gaze fell on the bloodstains on his clothes.
"It's risky, but worth it." Lin Yan stood up, the oil lamp casting dappled shadows on him. "With this evidence, our chances of taking them down have increased by fifty percent. Besides—" He looked out of the cellar; the dawn was already deepening, faintly outlining the wooden planks at the entrance. "Today is the planned day. If we don't get the evidence now, and something goes wrong during tonight's operation, we won't even have a chance to recover."
Su Qingyao bit her lip, wanting to say something, but seeing the determination in Lin Yan's eyes—a calmness born of life and death, not a momentary impulse—she finally relented, but reached out and grabbed his sleeve, her fingertips turning white from the force. "I'll go with you. More people means more support."
"No." Lin Yan gently pulled his hand away from hers, took out a small recording stone from his pocket, and placed it in her hand. "You stay here, sort through all the evidence again, and prepare the seductive incense and berserk powder for tonight. If I don't return before dawn—" He paused, his voice softening, "then take the things to Uncle Zhang and proceed according to the backup plan. Don't worry about me."
The backup plan was to abandon Blackstone Town, take the willing townspeople and evidence, and head straight to Qingzhou Prefecture to ask the Demon Suppression Division Chief for a decision. Although the chances were slim, it was still a way to survive. Su Qingyao knew he was right, so she could only nod, clutching the recording stone tightly in her palm; the cold stone surface hurt her heart.
Suddenly remembering something, she turned around and took out a jade bottle the size of a thumb from the bottom of her cloth bag, placing it in Lin Yan's hand. "This is a Qi-strengthening powder. Hold one under your tongue while regulating your breathing," she said, avoiding his eyes.
Lin Yan grasped the jade bottle, still warm from her body, and said softly, "I know my limits." He turned and pushed aside the wooden plank, his figure disappearing into the morning mist, leaving only the flickering light of the oil lamp at the cave entrance. Su Qingyao stood there, listening to his receding footsteps. After a long while, she turned back to organize the evidence, but her movements were much slower than before, and she would occasionally listen to the direction of the cave entrance.