Since the brutal beating of Lin Jing on the Long Street, Sang Qing had not felt this exhilarated in a long time. Even thieves longed for a glimmer of hope in their lives. That glimmer before him was a sealed name. With such a seal protecting him, Sang Qing believed he could steal from even the imperial palace's inner chambers without trouble.
Gathering a few comrades, he dashed to the most opulent tavern in the East Market, spending an entire ingot of silver with reckless abandon, swelling with pride and arrogance. This was also the place where they had once met Lin Jing—though their rendezvous had taken place in a shadowy alley beside the tavern. That timid Lin Jing had always warned him to steal sparingly, so that the proceeds barely sufficed for sustenance.
Soon, Sang Qing was sated with food and wine. Basking in the sunlight, he absentmindedly ran his slender fingers through his hair, searching for a flea. With his nails, he crushed the pest and flicked the corpse towards the patrolling martial officers on the street. To Sang Qing, Lin Jing was nothing more than a flea—despicable, insignificant, and contemptible.
"Just wait," he laughed loudly, "I'm destined for greatness!"
After a long day's toil, the martial officers returned to their quarters in small groups. Since the Tibetan delegation had taken residence in the University Study Alley within the imperial city, Ye Jiao had specially dispatched additional guards to reinforce the patrols. This arrangement had even been contested by Bai Xianyu.
"There's the Right Guard Headquarters, the Honglu Temple, and the Ministry of Rites' Guest Services Office all there. Who in their right mind would cause trouble?" Bai Xianyu argued.
The University Study Alley bustled with activity, for foreign affairs offices were located there, as well as embassies for various countries. The envoys and foreign scholars arriving to study in Tang mostly lodged there. Walking from one end of the alley to the other, one could hear a dozen different foreign tongues.
Hence, the patrols were conducted not only by the martial officers but also by the elite Right Guards. Bai Xianyu's argument held merit, yet Ye Jiao said, "Have you heard of 'darkness under the lamp'? The brighter the place seems, the easier it is for shadows to lurk. The Tibetan delegation has been in the capital for a month now, yet the emperor has not summoned them. We must not let any slip-ups happen under our watch."
The lack of an audience either meant the emperor was too preoccupied or that the court was undecided about peace talks. Ye Jiao recalled the last time she met the emperor—he had sipped tea while chatting with her in great interest—and was certain he was not too busy. Though unfamiliar with court affairs, she could always discern his mood: anger over Yan Jide, frustration about Li Ce, relief that she had saved Li Ce, and an inexplicable pang of regret for reasons unknown.
"Fine," Bai Xianyu said, reclining with his legs crossed, "Assign my capable aide Lin Jing to you as well."
Capable aide? Lin Jing was merely a lowly martial officer who had stolen from him once and received a severe beating that nearly cost him his position. Lin Jing, standing guard at the gate, immediately straightened at the mention, eyes fixed downward, sweat pouring in an instant.
To be assigned to Lady Ye's command? Would she even accept him? Lin Jing felt both gratitude and anxiety, uncertain of Ye Jiao's response.
After a long pause, Ye Jiao's melodious voice finally rang out, "Very well. But my men do not stand guard. Lin Jing, come here—I'll assign you a patrol shift in University Study Alley, with double pay."
Lin Jing stiffened, instinctively stepping into the room, head bowed. He barely noticed he had been holding his breath, his chest about to burst. No one had ever called his name so warmly, so fully—laden with trust and responsibility. It was a recognition of his worth, a coal fire on a cold night.
"Look at you, moving up in the world!" Bai Xianyu scoffed, noticing Lin Jing's flustered demeanor as he rose. "Do your job well, and don't screw up."
"Thank you, Captain Bai!" Lin Jing knelt on one knee, escorting Bai Xianyu respectfully. He bore no grudge for the past beating—punishment was deserved for mistakes. He held no resentment for Bai Xianyu's previous disdain. They were born into different worlds. What moved him deeply was the desire to repay this kindness, even with his life.
"The first task," Ye Jiao called after he rose, "On your way to University Study Alley, stop by the Ministry of War office and deliver a message for my brother."
She narrowed her eyes with a sly smile: "This is a personal favor—don't tell anyone."
Lin Jing hurriedly promised secrecy, his nerves easing. Ye Jiao smiled, unfurling a scroll, the brush tip tapping her temple as she said seriously, "Now, let's see how to arrange your schedule."
Ye Chang Geng suspected Ye Jiao watched over him closely. One evening, just as he was about to dine with colleagues after official duties, a message arrived that his meal was prepared at home. The next day, while engaged in lively conversation, the slender young martial officer appeared again, reminding him that tomorrow was Lady Ye's birthday and that he must prepare a gift. The third day, another reminder to celebrate his mother's birthday. On the fourth day, when things had settled, the young officer returned, saying Lady Ye craved braised pig's trotters from the West Market and asked him to bring some home—with an extra spoonful of soybeans.
Ye Chang Geng folded his arms and shook his head. The Ministry of War was far from the West Market. If the officer had time to remind him, he might as well have bought the pig's trotters twice over.
Ye Jiao's intentions were clear: to make him return home promptly after work instead of indulging outside. But Ye Chang Geng could not suppress his restlessness today. Returning in triumph from the northern provinces, he had a queue of people eager to invite him to dinner. He ignored acquaintances but friends from the academy had invited him repeatedly to enjoy a whole roasted lamb in University Study Alley. Further refusals risked rumors that his meteoric rise had made him disdain old friends.
He pulled Lin Jing aside and pressed a small silver coin into his hand. "You know the An Guo Duke's residence?"
Lin Jing nodded. Ye Chang Geng clapped him on the shoulder. "Deliver the pig's trotters to the gatehouse. I have other matters."
Lin Jing hesitated, but Ye Chang Geng threatened lightly, "What? Unwilling to serve Lord Ye?"
Lin Jing agreed at once and dashed off. Returning to the gate, he asked which eatery the pig's trotters came from.
"Lai Si Wei!" Ye Chang Geng answered robustly.
Thanks to the appointment, Ye Chang Geng completed his errands swiftly. The Ministry of War had spent a month analyzing Tibetan troop deployments, armaments, formations, key war advocates at court, and potential allies. The report was compiled, sealed in parchment and wax, and personally delivered to the Privy Council by Ye Chang Geng.
After Lin Jing left, Ye Chang Geng spurred his horse forward, guarding the dispatch. When accosted by acquaintances, he did not stop until the report was formally submitted and the official receipt signed by sundial time. Then he strode away, ready for celebration.
As the saying goes, "Winter lamb is better than ginseng." To comfort his sister, he vowed to reserve two lamb legs for Ye Jiao.
By the time Ye Chang Geng left University Study Alley, it was the late night hour of Hai. At the alley entrance, several patrolling Right Guards greeted him. He jovially tossed them a lamb leg and chuckled, "Keep warm."
"Care for some wine?" one joked.
"You're on duty now; when you're off, we'll drink until drunk!"
"Thanks, General."
The guards embraced the lamb leg and passed by the martial officers patrolling deeper within the alley.
Meanwhile, a few figures slipped silently into University Study Alley. Feng Ming was the first to arrive; punctual as always. At the very end of the hour, Sang Qing appeared hesitantly.
"Steal here?" he frowned, "This alley is crawling with martial officers and Right Guards."
"What's there to fear?" Feng Ming gritted his teeth. "With me watching your back, even if you get caught, a word from me and you'll be released. But let me warn you—if you get nabbed and want me to save you, don't say I tipped you off. Better say it was Lin Jing; he happens to be on duty today."
"Don't worry," Sang Qing said. "Steal what?"
"The Tibetan delegation bought a calligraphy painting today; it's sitting on the study desk."
"Calligraphy? How much is that worth?" Sang Qing's disappointment showed.
Feng Ming leaned against the wall, picking at his fingers and snorted, "It's a painting by Dao Xuan—worth a fortune."
Sang Qing's mouth fell open in awe. His heart pounded wildly. Indeed, his luck was turning; wealth was within reach.
Climbing over the wall, Sang Qing found the Tibetan guards lax. Following Feng Ming's directions, he swiftly located the study. Sure enough, a painting lay coiled on the desk. Without a glance, Sang Qing grabbed it and slipped away.
Retracing his steps and just climbing the wall, a hoarse voice shouted, "Thief! Thief!"
Panic-stricken, Sang Qing dashed along the wall's edge. Feng Ming had vanished. Within moments, patrolling Right Guards apprehended him.
"Who are you? What did you steal?" they demanded.
As the guards unfolded the painting, a folded paper, two palms wide and heavily creased, fell out. Sang Qing wondered why the painting was so large, when a guard muttered, "This... this looks just like a Tang court memorial..."