Chapter 1519 - Streetwalker

She knew that surveillance at this level was not particularly tight—typically, no permanent lookout was posted to watch the shop, nor was a decury planted inside. Still, she was cautious. First she walked past Haixing Store's street once to survey the surroundings.

This was not a busy commercial area; pedestrians were few, and the shops were nearly empty. Li Yongxun noted there were no surveillance personnel nearby. Her mood eased somewhat. Just as she was pondering how to establish contact with her brother-in-law, she spotted several graffiti-like symbols on a nearby wall.

Li Yongxun froze: these were Brocade Guard code marks.

People of the jianghu often used secret symbols to communicate with fellow travelers. Li Yongxun was no stranger to this—the Brocade Guard had long studied such underworld conventions and developed its own set of secret contact marks, useful both for covert investigations and enemy reconnaissance.

Working with the National Police and being loaned out for assistance, she had encountered all manner of secret marks. But this particular set she recognized clearly—it was the Brocade Guard's. Lin Ming had taught her these years ago.

Seeing these marks confirmed that Lin Min was indeed Lin Ming. The message was simple: a summons to fellow operatives. On nights of the first, meet on the river embankment near Heyuan Street; the signal would be holding a willow branch.

No wonder her brother-in-law had turned up in the pleasure district! If he was on a mission to gather military intelligence, why would he be visiting brothels? Li Yongxun had found it puzzling, but now the pieces fell into place.

Seeing the mark, Li Yongxun hesitated no longer. Checking that no one was around, she picked up a piece of coal slag from the ground and scrawled a response mark below, then quickly left.

That evening, Lin Ming saw the response and was overjoyed. But he soon realized an awkward problem. Though the code marks could specify dates, they could not specify which calendar. In Ming territory, this would be no issue, but Lingao used the so-called Gregorian calendar, which did not align with the Ming calendar. To accommodate farmers, the Cropped-Hairs also had an agricultural calendar printed alongside the Gregorian, but this agricultural calendar also differed from the Ming calendar.

After much thought, Lin Ming concluded that since Li Yongxun had been living in Lingao for so long and had no access to a Ming calendar, she would surely follow the Cropped-Hairs' Gregorian calendar.

By the Gregorian calendar, the next day ending in one was January 21—just three days away.

Three days later, after work, Lin Ming washed up and said casually that he was going out for a stroll. He left the shop alone. By now he knew his way around: first he ate dinner at a small eatery in East Gate Market, then wandered about. He walked sometimes fast, sometimes slow, occasionally stopping to look around or stepping into a shop—the very picture of a penniless fellow with time to kill. After meandering for half an hour or so, he heard the clock chime six times. One last check confirmed no tail behind him. Only then did he quietly make his way toward Heyuan Street.

Lin Ming carried the courtesan's calling card from the other night. If anyone questioned him, he would claim he was heading to Night Flower.

He crept up to the river embankment. Though it bordered Lingao's pleasure district, the embankment was deserted—women had no reason to come here, and men were all heading straight to their destination. No one had the leisure to stroll by the river at night.

Standing atop the dike, he could see the lanterns and hear the music of Heyuan Street below. Up here, however, it was desolate and quiet. Lin Ming sat on a bench, idly twirling a willow branch, waiting for his sister-in-law.

Life is but a dream... Lin Ming gazed at the night scene and felt the sentiment well up unbidden. From leaving home, drifting on the sea, to arriving in Lingao—it all seemed like just yesterday. He had always harbored doubts about whether he could find his sister-in-law, fearing he might never discover her whereabouts. Though he was only her brother-in-law by marriage—a tenuous relation at best—those days when Li Yongxun stayed at his home made it impossible for him to let go. He felt responsible for her.

Lost in reflection, a voice suddenly spoke: "Sir, instead of going into the street for fun, you're sitting here sighing all alone—aren't you wasting this wonderful life?"

Lin Ming tensed. He had taken every precaution meeting Li Yongxun here. He had heard the Cropped-Hairs had their own Eastern Depot and Brocade Guard, whose counterintelligence skills were formidable. Every stranger who approached made him wary—they might be Cropped-Hair agents.

He focused his gaze: it was a prostitute with a yellow ticket hanging from her neck. Under the lamplight her age was unclear, but from her figure and the faint crow's feet at her eyes, she was probably around thirty. Her face was thickly powdered; her looks were passable. Her figure was plump, like a ripe peach. She wore a light, fluttering white-on-red floral silk vest, its collar unbuttoned to reveal the red breast-wrap tightly binding her chest—quite alluring.

Around her white neck was a black leather collar, faintly engraved with numbers and fitted with a metal ring. Lin Ming had noticed some streetwalkers wore such collars while others did not.

He guessed she was here drumming up business. His heart calmed slightly. He only smiled faintly without replying—as long as he did not engage, the streetwalker would move on.

But this streetwalker did not leave. She laughed: "Don't be so cold, sir. I have a fine item here—guaranteed you'll like it..."

Lin Ming knew the tricks of these streetwalkers: typically they would unbutton their clothes, flash a breast, and hook a customer. To his surprise, she did not undress. Instead, she produced a willow branch.

Lin Ming's pupils contracted. Involuntarily his hand moved to his waist—and grasped nothing. For an instant his mind went blank: This isn't my sister-in-law, yet she understands my code!

The streetwalker, looking coyly provocative, draped herself over his shoulder. "Well, sir? Isn't this a fine item?"

In a flash, Lin Ming understood: there were Brocade Guard operatives in Lingao.

However, the Brocade Guard never used women. This woman had to be some colleague's agent, sent after seeing his summons mark.

Knowing there were fellow operatives here brought him no joy at all. He had come to Lingao on personal business. Whether he succeeded or failed, it had to remain secret—no one else could know. Now a colleague had discovered him. This was very bad.

He had no authorization to be in enemy territory. If anyone wanted to make trouble for him later, this alone would be enough to ruin him. Second, even if no one raised this point, the colleague had obviously come to Lingao for intelligence work—they had no sister-in-law to find. When it came time to serve the court, would they ask for his help?

If he helped, Lingao's net was too tight—involving himself would be suicidal. If he refused, the other party could anonymously tip off the Cropped-Hairs, and he would be a prisoner in the blink of an eye.

Thinking this, he silently cursed himself for leaving that code mark. The city-wide dragnet these past days obviously signaled a major case—and to the Cropped-Hairs, the biggest case would be court spies. He should have realized fellow operatives were in Lingao. After several sweeps, they would be reeling, eager for reinforcements.

His only option now was to deny everything. Lin Ming reckoned that since arriving in Qiongzhou he had done nothing; his cover was still clean. No matter how sharp the Cropped-Hair agents were, they could not unravel him that quickly. Anyway, his identity was known only to his sister-in-law. As long as she did not betray him, even if the Cropped-Hairs arrested him, he could bluff his way through.

As for the Brocade Guard side: since only an agent had been sent to make contact, this was obviously not someone from Guangdong Province who might recognize him. And his trip to Lingao had been entirely secret—neither colleagues nor his own centurion post knew. Even if there was a row back in Guangdong, he could flatly deny ever having been to Lingao or leaving that mark.

Besides, with the current city-wide manhunt, even if this colleague was furious, they would hardly dare stir up more trouble.

Years of Brocade Guard casework had honed his instincts. In an instant he had weighed the gains and losses. His expression softened; he remained silent, pretending to be oblivious, uncomprehending, indifferent.

The woman, seeing him say nothing, grew impatient: "Can't you even see this willow branch?"

"Miss, I'm not in the mood. Go find business elsewhere. Go on!" He spoke loudly—if Li Yongxun had already arrived nearby, this would warn her of the change and tell her to leave at once.

"What do you mean?!" The streetwalker was clearly an amateur. Seeing he refused to respond to her contact, she jumped up. "You called for a meet, and now you pretend not to know me?!"

Lin Ming deliberately played dumb, loudly saying, "Miss, I haven't said a word. You came up on your own. I told you, I'm not interested. Go find business elsewhere!"

The previously quiet embankment was now noisy. Footsteps sounded, and two black-uniformed police officers came running up from below the dike.

"What's going on?" one demanded.

Seeing trouble, the streetwalker spun to flee, but the other officer had already cut off her escape, brandishing his white baton. "Squat down! Behave!"

The streetwalker clearly feared the police. She immediately crouched, hands over her head.

The first officer blocked Lin Ming's path, raised his right hand beside his head in a crisp salute, and said, "Sir, please cooperate. Show your papers. Thank you."

Lin Ming was inwardly tense but forced himself to stay calm, not letting it show. He was gambling. If this woman made a scene and implicated him, he would be in danger. But he had already calculated: his odds of winning were high. Smiling ingratiatingly, he handed over his identity certificate. The officer took it, examined it carefully under the streetlight, then returned it and asked:

"What happened?"