Taichang Ming Dynasty

Chapter 803 Searching for People and Tracking

The next morning, a light rain began to fall before dawn. The fine rain wove a gray net that enveloped the sky and the land of Beitang. The raindrops soaked the unpaved dirt road, making it soft and mushy.

The construction of the Beitang Wharf did not stop because of the rain. On the construction site, laborers wearing raincoats continued to swing shovels or hammers in the drizzle, while craftsmen worked under the rain shelter.

There aren't many buildings yet along the edge of the pier, but a trading post called "Typhoon Shelter Inn" has already opened.

A young man dressed in a tight-fitting outfit walked into the inn, carrying an oil-paper umbrella and trudging through the wet mud. His trousers were rolled up to his knees, revealing his muscular calves. The umbrella was pulled low, obscuring most of his face, but his jawline was taut, clearly indicating that he was a trained martial artist.

When the young man entered the shop, the waiter was sitting there lost in thought, seemingly listening to the rain. Upon seeing someone enter, he immediately greeted him with a smile. "Sir! Are you here for a meal, to stay the night, or to store your goods?"

"I'm here to find someone." The young man closed his umbrella, shook off the water droplets, and headed towards the counter.

Behind the counter, the innkeeper was busily working on his abacus, occasionally picking up a pen to jot down notes in the ledger beside him. Hearing the noise, he put down his pen and looked up at the young man: "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Shopkeeper, I'm sorry to bother you." The young man stood in front of the counter and bowed slightly. "I'd like to ask you something."

The shopkeeper moved the ledger aside, smiled, and waved his hand: "Please speak, if I know."

The young man clasped his hands in thanks, then asked, "May I ask if there is a Westerner named Xie who speaks Chinese staying at your inn?"

The shopkeeper frowned almost imperceptibly, then looked the young man up and down. "Sir, why are you looking for this person?"

"Oh, sorry. I forgot to introduce myself." The young man quickly took out a black ebony waist tag from his pocket and handed it over. "I am a bodyguard from the Yuanwei Escort Agency in the capital. My surname is Wei and my given name is Hong. I am here with my master Jiang Wei to escort a Westerner named Luo to Beitang on business. I heard that Mr. Luo's companion is staying here, so I came to look for him."

The shopkeeper took the token and examined it carefully. "The foreigner surnamed Xie you mentioned is indeed staying here. However, he has already left and is not in the shop."

"He went out?" Wei Hong leaned forward. "Do you know where he went?"

"I don't know. They didn't tell me where they were going when they left." The shopkeeper shook his head and handed the sign back to Wei Hong. "But I think they might have gone to the government office, or maybe they went to talk business with someone. Of course, they might just have gone to have some fun."

"Looking for some fun?" Wei Hong put away the sign and asked curiously, "Isn't this port still under construction? It's all bare, just empty land and ships. What kind of fun can there be?"

"Hehe, what you say." The shopkeeper chuckled and pointed towards the docks outside the window: "Where there are people, there is fun. When this port was first started, prostitutes came here to frolic. Last month, two gambling ships came from Tianjin and are now anchored on the shallows east of the port. Many port workers and sailors from the ships flock there. I also heard that someone recently bought a newly built courtyard, but I don't know if they're going to open a brothel or a casino."

"Tsk tsk tsk, the world is really going to the dogs," Wei Hong clicked his tongue a few times with a sigh, and asked, "Shopkeeper, could you please leave me a message?"

"Of course, please tell me, sir." The shopkeeper nodded.

"Hmm," Wei Hong thought for a moment, "My master, that foreign gentleman surnamed Luo, and I are currently staying at an inn with a sign that reads 'Listening to the Wind by the Sea' in Haifangying Town. If that foreign gentleman surnamed Xie returns, please tell him to come over when he has time, or you can send someone to deliver a message."

The shopkeeper of "Listening to the Wind by the Sea" pondered for a moment, then asked, "Is the shopkeeper's surname He?"

“That’s right!” Wei Hong nodded.

"Okay, I've written it down," the shopkeeper said.

"Then thank you very much, shopkeeper." Wei Hong cupped his hands in farewell.

"It was nothing, no need for thanks." The shopkeeper watched Wei Hong leave, and only looked away when Wei Hong opened his oil-paper umbrella and stepped back into the rain. He then started calculating on his abacus.

After about half a cup of tea's time, the shopkeeper suddenly raised his head, his gaze sweeping over the few customers in the shop, finally landing on the waiter from before: "Old Fan."

Old Fan paused in his wiping motion, quickly walked to the counter, subconsciously glanced left and right to make sure no one was watching, and then asked in a low voice, "Should we send someone to follow that person?"

"Why follow him? He's just a bodyguard." The innkeeper shook his head and said, "Besides, people like him aren't easy to track; they're easily discovered. Go to the backyard and have Old Liu find Old Pan and have him stay at that inn."

Old Fan nodded and asked, "Which inn?"

"Didn't you hear me?" the shopkeeper frowned.

"It's raining outside, and I'm wiping the table over there, how could I hear anything?" Lao Fan said.

"Hmm," the innkeeper sighed softly, "In Haifangying Town, there's an inn with a sign that says 'Listening to the Wind by the Sea.' A Westerner named Luo is staying there; he must have just come from the capital. Have Lao Pan keep an eye on him as much as possible, but don't follow him too closely. Just keep an eye on where he goes."

"Understood," the waiter replied in a low voice, then turned and walked towards the backyard.

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As noon approached, the rain showed no signs of letting up, but instead added a touch of coolness.

At the entrance of the "Listening to the Wind by the Sea" inn, came the "squeak" of donkey hooves trotting in the mud. A middle-aged man rode on the donkey, holding an oil-paper umbrella in his hand. A silver pendant inlaid with jade hung from his waist, and the silk shirt he wore shimmered softly in the rain.

The waiter surnamed Fang had just finished serving the customers when he saw a new customer arrive. He quickly put down his tray and greeted him with a smile: "Sir! Are you here for a quick bite or to stay the night?"

The middle-aged man didn't respond, but instead handed the donkey rope to Lao Fang, saying, "Take my donkey to the backyard and feed it well, don't skimp on the feed."

"Hey! Please come in and have a seat, I'll be right there." Old Fang took the donkey rope, turned around and called to the counter, "Shopkeeper, come and serve them quickly!"

Upon hearing the sound, Manager He quickly came out from behind the counter and greeted him solicitously, "Sir, what would you like to order?"

"Tell me first, what do you have here?" the man countered.

"We have chickens, ducks, dogs, and fresh fish and pork that were just delivered here," the shopkeeper said.

The middle-aged man took a few steps, patted the water droplets off his silk shirt, and asked, "Do you have beef here?"

Manager He shook his head apologetically: "If you had come three or four days earlier, there might still be some left. But recently, no one has been slaughtering old cows to sell."

"Never mind then." The middle-aged man didn't dwell on it. After thinking for a moment, he said, "Give me a slice of fish. Also, cut up some chicken, pork, and dog meat, and make two vegetable dishes, a bowl of noodles, and I want to cook a hot pot." The shopkeeper was taken aback, then looked towards the door: "Are you alone?"

"Can't one person cook hot pot?" the man chuckled.

"No, no!" Manager He quickly waved his hand, "I just wanted to calculate roughly how much to give you, so as not to waste it."

"It's just me, you can decide what to do." The man paced a few steps, his gaze sweeping across the main room.

Shopkeeper He couldn't just let them serve like that, so he asked, "Sir, the fish that just arrived are all quite large. After slicing, they'll weigh at least a pound and a half. I'll serve you half a pound each of chicken, pork, and dog meat. The duck needs to be killed fresh, so we won't serve it for now. What do you think?"

"Okay, that's enough for now." The man looked away. "And bring me another pot of wine, the good kind."

"Alright, alright!" Manager He quickly agreed, then turned and shouted to the kitchen, "Catch a fish weighing over two pounds and fillet it! Cut half a pound each of chicken, pork, and dog meat, along with two vegetable dishes, three ounces of noodles, and a stove!"

A clear reply quickly came from the kitchen: "Understood!"

"Please make yourself at home, sir. I'll get you some wine right away," Manager He said as he walked toward the counter.

The man didn't sit down immediately, but slowly followed the innkeeper: "Innkeeper, are there any Westerners staying here?"

Shopkeeper He was taken aback and subconsciously glanced towards the stairwell. "Why do you ask that, sir?"

"I run a general store business. I heard that some foreign ships have come to Beitang, so I came to see if I can do some business with the Westerners." The middle-aged man's expression remained normal.

"Oh." Manager He nodded, picked up a wine ladle and poured wine into a rough porcelain wine pot. "There is indeed a Westerner living here, but he is not a merchant, but a monk."

"A Tibetan monk?" The man placed one hand on the counter. "What are monks doing here?"

"I don't know about that. It's our guest's private matter, and we shouldn't pry." After pouring the wine, Manager He grabbed a plate of salted edamame and handed it to the man. "Sir, consider this plate of edamame a small token of our appreciation."

"Thank you." The man thanked him and took the wine. "Did you brew this yourself?"

"No, it's supplied by the 'Wang Family Wine Shop' in town," Manager He answered honestly. "They've been in business for decades, and they brew only the best wine. Even the officers from the coastal defense battalion often go there to buy wine. You can't go wrong with it."

The middle-aged man nodded, didn't ask any further questions, and returned to the table with his wine and edamame. Manager He called out from behind him, "Sir, please don't hesitate to call if you need anything!"

The middle-aged man didn't turn around, but simply replied with a casual "okay".

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Before long, Old Fang came out of the kitchen carrying a red clay stove. The charcoal fire inside was burning brightly, the glowing flames licking the bottom of the clay pot, chunks of chicken heads tumbling inside, the rising steam mingling with the coolness of the rain, creating wisps of white mist around the table. He placed the stove on the corner of the man's table, then brought out the next dishes—thinly sliced ​​dog meat; pork belly with alternating layers of fat and lean; a plate of spinach and a plate of sliced ​​cucumber; and a bowl of fresh noodles sprinkled with dry flour.

"Sir, the fish was freshly killed, so you'll have to wait a little longer," Old Fang said with a smile, wiping the sweat from his brow.

The man didn't even look up, only replying with a curt "Okay."

Just as the man picked up a piece of dog meat with his chopsticks, preparing to dip it into the casserole, a man dressed in the civilian clothes of a low-ranking military officer walked in through the doorway, holding an umbrella. Water dripped from the edge of the umbrella, splashing onto the bluestone slabs and spreading out in circles of dampness.

Manager He had sharp eyes. As soon as the man entered, he immediately went up to him with a face full of ingratiation: "Inspector Ren! It's raining so hard outside, you didn't get wet, did you!"

Ren Guian folded his umbrella and didn't reply. Manager He continued, "Have you had lunch yet? The kitchen just made some chicken soup, let me serve you a bowl?"

Ren Guian still didn't respond, only glancing towards the stairwell: "Has Mr. Luo gone out yet?"

“No, no,” Manager He shook his head repeatedly, “He’s been in his room the whole time, and we’ve been bringing him the food.”

Ren Guian nodded, handed the umbrella to Manager He, and went upstairs, saying, "Just get me some food and bring it to my room."

"Yes, yes, yes! Okay, okay!" Manager He hurriedly responded, following Ren Gui'an all the way until Ren Gui'an turned into the corridor. Only then did he turn back and shout to Lao Fang, "Lao Fang! Tell the kitchen to ladle a bowl of chicken soup, make a braised pork knuckle, slice two pounds of braised meat, and stir-fry two vegetable dishes. Take them up to Inspector Ren!"

Old Fang replied "Okay" and turned to run to the kitchen.

Manager He returned behind the counter and had just picked up the wine jar to prepare wine for Ren Gui'an when Old Fang came out carrying a porcelain plate—the fish slices on the plate were pinkish-white, with some translucent fish skin still clinging to the edges, clearly freshly sliced. Old Fang carried the fish slices to the man's table and gently placed them down: "Sir, your fish is here, please enjoy."

The man suddenly raised his hand, blocking Lao Fang's path: "Hey. There's no patrol station here in Beitang, is there? What was that official doing here just now?"

Old Fang paused for a moment, scratched the back of his head, and whispered, "That's not an official from Beitang, but Inspector Ren from Qilihai. He came here to escort the Tibetan monk who lives upstairs."

"Escort?" The man raised an eyebrow. "What's the background of this Tibetan monk that he'd warrant an escort from a mere inspector?"

Old Fang smiled and was about to speak when a "thump" suddenly came from the counter.

"Old Fang!" Manager He frowned, staring at Old Fang. "Don't stand there and disturb the guests' meal. Hurry up and bring Inspector Ren's wine upstairs!"

Old Fang quickly shut up, smiled at the man, and said, "Sorry, sir, I have to get back to work."

The man didn't ask any further questions, just shrugged and continued eating the food in front of him.

Old Fang turned and walked to the counter. Manager He lowered his voice and scolded, "How many times have I told you not to talk nonsense to the customers! You can't just talk about official matters like that!"

"I know, I won't do it again next time." Old Fang nodded sheepishly.

"Really." Manager He frowned and pushed the tray containing wine and snacks in front of the old man. "Take it up!"

"I'm going right now!" Old Fang picked up his tray and hurriedly left.

(End of this chapter)