Chapter 655: Following the Clues

When Hu Peiyun and his party arrived in Chang’an, the city gates were already closed. Yet, thanks to his special status, Hu Peiyun managed to enter the city and head straight to the headquarters of the Intelligence Hall located in the imperial palace.

As soon as he entered, an on-duty officer stepped forward and reported, “General Hu, the princess sent someone to look for you this afternoon.”

Hu Peiyun was taken aback and quickly asked, “What did the princess want?”

“The messenger didn’t say. He just asked the general to find time to visit the princess’s mansion tomorrow.”

Hu Peiyun had an idea. With a silent sigh, he said, “I understand!”

Just as the officer was about to leave, Hu Peiyun added, “Go and find that old stonemason surnamed Ding right away.”

After a pause, he ordered, “Also, stop by the Internal Guards. If General Qin is there, ask him to come as well.”

Although it was already the first watch of the night, the matter was serious enough to concern the princess, so Hu Peiyun felt no fatigue. He intended to investigate the case overnight.

In the hall, Hu Peiyun poured himself a pot of cool tea. As he sipped it slowly, he observed the giant turtle in the water tank, his mind pondering the strange events that had occurred these days.

The giant turtle seemed asleep, lying motionless in the tank. The ancient seal characters on its shell glowed strangely under the light. Hu Peiyun’s first thought was of the mastermind behind this. Given the omens discovered simultaneously in Xinfeng County and Lantian County, it was clear that the mastermind wanted to create a situation—one that would make it seem as though a great general was eager to ascend to power.

The ancients said that one must be humble and deferent before ascending to power, only doing so as a last resort. This had become a common belief—humility, low profile, and acting in accordance with the situation were especially important for a great general. If a general rushed to take the throne, what would happen to the current emperor? Killing or deposing him would give the impression of usurpation. Thus, the mastermind’s deliberate creation of omens at this time was clearly a tactic to frame someone. The viciousness of his intentions and the thoroughness of his planning showed that this was a massive conspiracy.

Just then, footsteps were heard outside. A soldier reported, “General, Stonemason Ding has been brought in.”

Hu Peiyun perked up immediately and said, “Bring him in!”

Soon, several soldiers led in the tall, thin old stonemason from the previous day. He had spent the entire day reviewing documents and finally found some clues.

The old stonemason was about to kneel, but the soldiers held him back. Hu Peiyun stepped forward, bowed, and said with a smile, “Old Master Ding, you’ve worked hard. Please, have a seat!”

The old stonemason didn’t dare sit. Instead, he took out a stack of documents filled with writing and handed them to Hu Peiyun, saying, “General, please take a look at this.”

Hu Peiyun took the manuscript and hurried to the light to examine it carefully. The manuscript consisted of over a dozen pages and was a Buddhist scripture written in small characters, all in ancient seal script. At first glance, he saw the character “Tang,” which indeed resembled the one on the turtle’s back. He quickly ordered the soldiers, “Move the giant turtle under the light.” Two soldiers promptly moved the turtle under the light, and under the illumination, he carefully compared the characters. All six characters were found in the Buddhist scripture, matching exactly—especially the character “Qing” in “Qing Ping An,” whose top dot had a distinctive half-circular shape, matching perfectly. Hu Peiyun flipped through the rest of the manuscript but found no signature from the writer. He then asked the old stonemason, “Who wrote this?” “Reporting to the general, it was a scholar surnamed Zhao who came to me three years ago to have a stele carved for his mother’s seventieth birthday. He paid a deposit and agreed to pick it up in half a year, but he hasn’t shown up yet,” the stonemason replied. Hu Peiyun felt anxious; if that was all the information, it was useless. How could he find a scholar surnamed Zhao in such a vast world? “Do you know his full name or where he lives?” The old stonemason shook his head. “He only said he would come back in half a year to pick it up; nothing else.” Just as Hu Peiyun felt disappointed, the stonemason suddenly added, “I remember now. He seemed to say that if he couldn’t come himself, he would send an official surnamed Qi to pick it up, for the same purpose.” The stonemason dipped his finger in water and wrote the character “Qi” on the table. “I only recall it being some kind of temple supervisor official. I can’t remember which department exactly—too much time has passed.” This was still a clue; with it, they might be able to find some leads, after all, there weren’t many people with the surname Qi. Hope rekindled in Hu Peiyun’s heart. He ordered two hundred silver coins given to the stonemason as a reward, instructing him to report any new information immediately. The stonemason left, deeply grateful. As soon as he left, Hu Peiyun went straight to the Intelligence Hall’s document archive. The archive was essentially a repository for various intelligence records. It was enormous, divided into seven major sections based on different categories—central government, local governments, finance, military, civilians, officials, and criminal laws—containing millions of documents of various levels. Twenty-one document clerks and one archive supervisor managed it on a daily basis.

Hu Peiyun was looking for information on officials. He entered the personnel archive room, which consisted of two sections: an outer office space and an inner document storage area. The office was not large, with four desks inside, and two bookshelves against the wall, both filled tightly with index cards used for searching for information.

There were three clerks in the personnel archive. The reason for having three was to ensure that someone was on duty day and night, so each of them worked four hours a day.

It was currently the first watch of the night, and one of the clerks stayed behind in the office instead of going home, ready to be awakened at any time if needed. The soldier woke the on-duty clerk, who, upon seeing it was Hu Peiyun in person, quickly bowed and said, “Saluting, General!”

Hu Peiyun waved his hand. “I need to check information on officials.”

“Yes! Yes! Please follow me, General.”

The clerk lit an oil lamp and led Hu Peiyun into the archive. First, he lit all thirty-six lamps on the walls, instantly making the archive as bright as day. The space was very spacious, resembling a small palace, with nearly two hundred bookshelves, each about ten feet tall, neatly arranged. The shelves were packed tightly with various files, organized by each official’s name—one file per official. The entire archive was filled with the scent of ink.

Hu Peiyun was amazed. He had been to the Ministry of Personnel’s archive, which was only half as large. Of course, the Ministry of Personnel had accumulated countless documents over a hundred years, but in terms of the volume of files on the shelves, it paled in comparison to the Intelligence Hall.

The Intelligence Hall’s documents were a direct continuation of those from the Han-Tang Association, also spanning a hundred years and piled high. The files on the shelves covered only officials in certain positions, reflecting the Intelligence Hall’s high regard for intelligence. Each file was numbered, categorized by rank—first rank, second rank, lower first rank, etc.—based on the official’s position.

This classification method was inherited from the Ministry of Personnel and the Han-Tang Association. If indexed by surname, it would be much easier to search, but this was one of its shortcomings. The Intelligence Hall was also planning to create a new surname index.

The clerk explained to Hu Peiyun, “The archive is divided into five sections. The northwest corner contains information on officials from Anxi, the southwest corner on those from Southern Tang, the northeast corner on those from Hebei. The southeast corner used to hold information on officials from Jiangnan, but it has now been changed to cover officials from various local provinces. The large central area contains information on officials from the capital region. May I ask which section the General is looking for?”

“I’m looking for an official from the imperial Qi family.”

Wen Shilang nodded. He led Hu Peiyun and a few of his subordinates to the center. In the middle was a circle surrounded by bookshelves, with a large pillar inside the circle and a wide, low table nearby where one could sit and consult documents. Wen Shilang went over to the pillar and lit an oil lamp on it. Pointing at a large wooden board hanging on the pillar, he said with a smile, “General, please take a look!”

Although Hu Peiyun was the head of the Intelligence Department, this was his first time here. He stepped forward and examined the board carefully. It turned out to be a roster of imperial officials. The board was filled with ink-drawn diagrams of various government departments, each with the names of their officials listed. Below each name hung a small wooden tag, about the size of a fingernail, bearing the official’s name.

Hu Peiyun couldn’t help but give a thumbs up in praise. “This is quite good. Do they have similar ones in the local areas?”

Wen Shilang nodded. “Yes, there are. Almost one for each region, but only for regular officials. Separate rosters exist for honorary officials and royal titles.”

Hu Peiyun used his fingers to search through the small tags one by one, looking for an official surnamed Qi. After checking several times, he found officials of all surnames but none with the surname Qi. His brows furrowed in confusion. What was going on? Could it be that the old stonemason was too old and incompetent, having made a mistake?

He then tried to find officials surnamed Zhao and found a dozen of them, but that didn’t help much. The old stonemason had only said they were middle-aged scholars, not officials.

Hu Peiyun felt somewhat disappointed. At that moment, one of his attendants reminded him, “General, the stonemason was referring to events from three years ago. In three years, many things can change—such as going to Southern Tang, being sent to local areas, or retiring due to old age.”

Hu Peiyun suddenly realized that indeed, many things could change in three years. He quickly asked Wen Shilang, “Do you have a roster of officials from three years ago?”

Wen Shilang thought for a moment before asking, “General, are you referring to imperial officials?”

Hu Peiyun felt uneasy. The old stonemason himself had said he couldn’t remember clearly, but he still nodded. “It should be!”

The clerk brought a ladder and retrieved two thick registers from the top of a bookshelf. Smiling, he said, “For example, if an official surnamed Qi goes to Southern Tang, we’ll hang his name tag there. But that’s just a change in the tag—there’s no record of the process, such as what position he held before and what he holds now. So we also keep records. One of these registers lists the changes in officials’ positions over the past three years, while the other is a register of honorary titles and ranks. General, you might as well check here.”

Hu Peiyun was about to take the registers when a soldier came in and reported, “General, General Qin has arrived and is waiting in the main hall.”

Hu Peiyun quickly said to the clerk, “Please go look for them. Once you find them, report to me immediately!” With that, he turned and left.

In the main hall, General Qin Haiyang was sitting silently with a teacup in hand. Before Hu Peiyun even arrived, his voice was heard—“Old Qin, I thought you had gone home to sleep. I didn’t expect you to still be in the palace.”

“If even General Hu doesn’t go back to his residence, I certainly dare not,” Qin Haiyang joked, then set down his teacup and stood up. “Do you know that strange occurrences have also happened in Lantian and Xinfeng?”

Seeing no sign of surprise on Hu Peiyun’s face, Qin Haiyang was taken aback. “You already know?”

“Mm!” Hu Peiyun waved his hand. “Sit down and talk.”

Qin Haiyang sat down. Noticing Hu Peiyun’s worried expression, he asked, “Are there any other issues?”

Hu Peiyun nodded and sighed slightly. “Another white jade stele appeared in Gaoling yesterday. Old Qin, things are getting bad.”

“I thought so too. This afternoon, reports came in from Xinfeng and Lantian counties. Many officials are discussing it, saying the General is crazy enough to want to ascend the throne—how can there be so many omens?”

“Yes, you’re right. Throughout history, omens have always been signs of good fortune, like this thousand-year-old turtle. If there were no inscriptions on its shell, that would be good. Similarly, a white jade stele with no inscriptions is also a good omen. But one with obvious inscriptions and simple content is rather unusual. My father once told me that during the uprising led by Chen Sheng and Wu Guang at the end of the Qin dynasty, there was a silk letter with the words ‘Great Chu rises, Chen Sheng becomes king.’ That was because most of the laborers following them were ignorant people, so the message had to be straightforward. But this time, with these consecutive occurrences, even a three-year-old child can tell we’re faking it. This will greatly damage the General’s reputation. I think this is a premeditated act aimed at defaming the General.”

Hu Peiyun was under great pressure. What scared him the most now was the possibility of more incidents occurring, as it was highly likely that more would happen tomorrow. Four incidents had already taken place, and if they wanted to completely discredit the General, at least five or six more would be needed, making the situation uncontrollable. If things really deteriorated to that extent, it would be a serious failure on the part of his intelligence agency.

Hu Peiyun knew well that they had already failed in their duties. This incident must have been planned long ago, involving many people, waiting for the General to achieve a major victory in Hedong. Yet his intelligence agency was completely unaware of it, and he, Hu Peiyun, could not shirk responsibility.

He urgently needed the help of the imperial guards to control the situation, but he was afraid that Qin Haiyang wouldn’t exert enough effort. After a moment’s thought, he said, “General Qin, this matter has already alarmed the Princess.”

Qin Haiyang was startled and asked nervously, “What did the Princess say?”

Hu Peiyun shook his head. “The Princess sent someone this afternoon. I happened to be away, so she asked me to explain things tomorrow. The situation is really serious.”

Qin Haiyang also knew that Princess Zhao never interfered in military or political matters, but she had made an exception this time, indicating that the situation had become severe enough for her to intervene. Since Hu Peiyun had summoned him so late, he must have a request.

He nodded and asked, “I wonder what plans General Hu has now?”

“I think we should take action in two steps at the same time!”

“Please go ahead, General Hu. I’m ready to hear the details.”

Hu Peiyun organized his thoughts and said slowly, “First, I’ve already obtained some clues related to an official surnamed Qi in the court. Once I identify this person, I can trace back to find the mastermind behind this. Second, we need to prevent further incidents. For this second task, I lack enough personnel, and I hope General Qin can offer assistance.”

However, a troubled expression appeared on Qin Haiyang’s face.