Too many female prisoners, a special forces soldier transmigrates and marries wildly.

Lin Feng trudged through the rain.

The eastern part of the city is a relatively prosperous area of ​​the prefecture. "Moyunzhai" is located on a relatively quiet street near the Confucian Temple in the eastern market. It mainly sells stationery, ancient books and paintings. It is an old shop with a long history and elegant reputation.

The signboard of "Moyunzhai" was just a short distance ahead. It was a black plaque with gold lettering, the characters ancient and vigorous, still clear despite the rain. The shopfront wasn't large, but it looked quite elegant. The two carved wooden doors were tightly closed, with a faint light shining through the cracks. A string of small copper wind chimes hung at the entrance, occasionally emitting a crisp, yet lonely, tinkling sound in the wind and rain.

It is here.

Lin Feng didn't immediately step forward. He slipped under the eaves of a closed general store across the street, leaning against the cold door, breathing heavily, his eyes fixed on the entrance and surroundings of "Moyunzhai". He needed to make one last check to see if there was an ambush and if it was safe.

The streets were quiet, save for the sounds of rain and wind chimes. Nothing seemed amiss around Moyunzhai, and no suspicious figures were seen loitering. The general store across the street, the bookstore next door, and the teahouse diagonally opposite were all tightly shut, utterly silent.

We can't wait any longer. Every second of delay increases the danger. The account book in my arms feels like an increasingly hot piece of coal.

Lin Feng took a deep breath, then strode across the bluestone street that had been washed clean by the rain, and arrived at the door of "Moyunzhai".

He raised his hand and knocked on the door knocker. The sound wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet, rain-soaked alley.

There was no immediate response from inside. Lin Feng's heart tightened slightly, and his hand quietly rested on the short knife at his waist.

A moment later, an old but calm voice came from inside the door: "Who is it? It's raining, we're closed."

"Buy ink, choose 'Purple Jade Light,' the older the better," Lin Feng said in a low voice, his voice hoarse from exhaustion and the cold, following the code Zhou Wenyuan had given him.

There was a moment of silence inside, followed by the sound of the bolt sliding. With a creak, the wooden door opened a crack. An elderly man, dressed in a faded blue long gown, with gray hair, a slender build, and a refined appearance, appeared behind the door. He looked to be around sixty years old, his face bearing the scholarly air of someone who had spent years hunched over a desk. Sure enough, there was a small black mole on his left cheek. He was holding a book in his hand, seemingly having just been reading.

This is Manager Qin.

Shopkeeper Qin's gaze calmly fell on Lin Feng. Seeing his disheveled appearance—soaked to the bone, ragged, pale, and covered in obvious wounds and mud—he showed no surprise or disdain. He simply turned slightly and said, "'Purple Jade Light' is ancient ink. We don't have much in stock. Please come in and take a look, sir."

Lin Feng slipped inside, and Manager Qin immediately closed the door and bolted it shut.

The shop was more spacious inside than outside, with rows of tall bookshelves against the walls, neatly stacked with thread-bound books and scrolls. In the center was a long counter displaying the Four Treasures of the Study (writing brush, ink stick, inkstone, and paper). A faint scent of ink, paper, and the unique aroma of old books filled the air, calming the mind. Behind the counter was a small door leading to an inner room.

"This way, sir. Gu Mo is in the inner room." Manager Qin said, leading Lin Feng to the small door behind the counter, while subtly glancing outside the door.

The two entered the inner room one after the other. The inner room was a small living room and study, simply furnished with a table, a chair, and a couch. A landscape painting hung on the wall, and writing implements and a few books were placed on the table. The bedding on the couch was neatly arranged. In the corner was a small charcoal brazier, the embers of which were barely burning, emitting a faint warmth.

Manager Qin closed the door to the inner room, then turned to look at Lin Feng, his gaze sharp and deep, and said in a low voice, "Did Master Zhou send you?"

Lin Feng nodded, took out the special seal given to him by Zhou Wenyuan from his pocket, handed it to Manager Qin, and whispered, "The situation is urgent. The goods have been obtained, but the tail is very tight. I may be being watched by the 'Shadow Guards'."

Manager Qin took the seal, examined it carefully by the light of the oil lamp on the table, and then ran his fingers along the fine lines on the bottom of the seal to confirm its authenticity. His face turned serious as he handed the seal back to Lin Feng, quickly saying, "Master Zhou sent someone to deliver a message half an hour ago, instructing me to keep an eye out. Where is the item?"

Lin Feng untied the soaking wet, tightly knotted tarpaulin and clothing from his chest, and from the innermost part of his body, took out the account book tightly wrapped in several layers of oilcloth. He handed it to Manager Qin with both hands and said in a deep voice, "This was found in the ghost money accounting room inside the Old Crow Ferry Trading Post. It's irrefutable evidence recording the transactions between King Qi and the Di Rong. And this..." He then took out the metal arrowhead he had picked up at the hiding place in the stove, "This was found where the account book was hidden. It might be related to the 'Shadow Guards'."

Manager Qin took the account book and arrowhead, his hand trembling slightly. He didn't open the account book immediately, but first examined the arrowhead carefully under the lamp for a moment. A look of horror flashed in his eyes, and he exclaimed in a low voice, "It's the 'Mysterious Iron Token'! The token of a mid-level leader in the 'Shadow Guard'! How did you get your hands on this?"

"I found it where the ledger was hidden. That place might be a contact point or safe house for the 'Shadow Guards'," Lin Feng explained briefly.

Manager Qin took a deep breath, carefully put away the arrowhead, and then, with trembling hands, untied the oilcloth and opened the account book. He quickly glanced through a few pages, his face growing paler and paler, cold sweat even beading on his forehead, and his hands holding the account book trembled even more violently.

"This...this..." He raised his head, looking at Lin Feng, his eyes filled with shock, anger, and a trace of fear. "Prince Qi...he actually dared to! Colluding with the Di and Rong tribes, smuggling weapons, selling intelligence...this is a crime punishable by the extermination of nine generations of one's family! Does Lord Zhou...do he know the contents of this ledger?"

"Prefect Zhou only knows it's important evidence; I haven't had time to examine its details, but I'm sure you've guessed some of it," Lin Feng said. "Manager Qin, this item is of utmost importance and must be safely delivered to Prefect Zhou immediately. I've been relentlessly pursued by the 'Shadow Guards,' and my whereabouts may have been exposed. We shouldn't linger here. Does Prefect Zhou have any plans?"

Manager Qin forced himself to calm down. He closed the ledger, wrapped it again in oilcloth, and clutched it tightly in his hand as if he were holding a red-hot branding iron. He walked to the wall and pressed a spot behind the landscape painting. With a soft "click," the wall behind the painting slid open to one side, revealing a dark opening just wide enough for one person to pass through! There seemed to be steps leading down inside.

"This is a secret passage built years ago, leading directly to a safe house two streets away." Manager Qin spoke very quickly. "Master Zhou instructed that if the goods are delivered, they should be moved immediately through the secret passage. You..." He looked at Lin Feng, a hint of reluctance and determination flashing in his eyes, "You can't come with me. You're too conspicuous, and your injuries are quite serious. Going together would greatly increase the risk. Moreover, Master Zhou needs someone to distract the 'Shadow Guards' who might track us here."

Lin Feng's heart sank slightly, but his face remained expressionless. He had already anticipated this. Zhou Wenyuan was a politician, not a philanthropist. Faced with such crucial evidence and his own safety, sacrificing a bodyguard of "unknown origin" was a perfectly normal choice.

"I understand." Lin Feng's voice was calm and even. "What do I need to do?"

Looking at his composed demeanor, Manager Qin's admiration deepened, but his tone became more urgent: "Leave here, but not through the main gate. Go through the side gate in the back courtyard. Once outside, immediately head west, making as much noise as possible to attract potential pursuers. Master Zhou has a reliable old subordinate in the western military command, named Wang Zhen, who is a patrol captain. If you can escape, go find him and mention Master Zhou's name; he might be able to protect you temporarily. If not…" He paused, then took a small porcelain bottle from his pocket and handed it to Lin Feng. "Inside are three 'Turtle Breathing Pills.' Taking them will temporarily allow you to hold your breath and feign death, which might fool you for a while. But this medicine is harmful; don't use it unless absolutely necessary."

To draw away the pursuers, to be a sacrificial pawn. That was his mission at this moment. Lin Feng took the porcelain bottle; it was icy cold to the touch. He felt neither anger nor sorrow, only a cold understanding. In chaotic times, human life was as worthless as grass, especially for someone like him, a rootless duckweed.

"Alright." He said only one word, put away the porcelain bottle, and said, "Take care, Manager Qin. Make sure the account book is delivered."

Manager Qin gave him a deep look, nodded vigorously, clutched the account book tightly to his chest, and turned to disappear into the dark entrance to the secret passage. The walls closed silently behind him, the landscape painting returned to its original state, as if nothing had happened.