In the Ming Dynasty, I became invincible simply by extracting memories!

Wei Liangbi jumped down from a carriage behind.

The hem of his robe fluttered in the night wind, and his steps were heavier than usual—the old fox was truly enraged. His face was ashen, and he repeatedly ordered the streets to be sealed off and the assassins to be searched. His voice boomed through the night alley, startling a flock of birds roosting on the eaves.

Shen Lian stood up from the ground, his right arm wound still bleeding, the sleeve clinging wetly to his skin. He turned to look at Wei Liangbi, his face displaying a complex expression—anger, lingering fear, and a hint of barely concealed embarrassment.

"Lord Wei," Shen Lian spoke, his tone indifferent, "how many people know today's route?"

Wei Liangbi's pupils contracted slightly.

"You mean—"

"I didn't say anything," Shen Lian interrupted him, his voice low but clear. "I just asked how many people know the route."

Wei Liangbi's lips moved, but he didn't say anything.

Shen Lian had already seen the answer in his eyes. Not many people knew. Even fewer could arrange for assassins to ambush them along the way.

Either Wei Liangbi's own people had problems, or someone wanted to cause problems for Wei Liangbi's people. In either case, Wei Liangbi cannot escape responsibility.

Shen Lian's gaze turned slightly cold as he looked directly at Wei Liangbi: "Mr. Wei, if today's events were to reach Lord Zhu's ears, we both know the consequences. I'm sure you can't bear the consequences."

Wei Liangbi opened his mouth, wanting to say a few words in his defense.

But when he met Shen Lian's eyes, the words he was about to say stuck in his throat. He understood—Shen Lian had already seen through him. He wasn't asking for his opinion; he was pointing it out.

Shen Lian also knew that Wei Liangbi had understood his warning.

There was a few moments of silence.

Shen Lian softened his tone slightly, offering a way out: "Mr. Wei, let's let today's matter rest for now. But I hope that such a situation will not happen again in the future. We should communicate more with each other and not give any wicked people an opportunity to take advantage of us."

Wei Liangbi remained silent for a moment, then slowly nodded.

"Mr. Shen is absolutely right," he said in a deep voice, his tone less pretentious and more sincere. "What happened today was indeed my oversight. From now on, if you and Young Master Fang have any urgent matters, just have the guards inform me. I have already given orders that no one is allowed to stop you."

That was said with great tact.

They gave Shen Lian convenience without delegating authority to others. Shen Lian nodded slightly, acknowledging their kindness.

The carriage set off again.

Zhou Kui was lifted into another vehicle. The wound on his left shoulder had been bandaged and the bleeding had stopped, but his face was still as white as paper. Shen Lian glanced at him, and Zhou Kui grinned, making a "don't worry" gesture with his still-movable right hand.

Shen Lian and Fang Xue were gradually pushed back into their original carriage. The doors closed, and darkness returned.

Fang Xuejian huddled in the corner, trembling with fear. He spoke, his voice muffled, as if coming from under the covers.

"Shen Lian. Just now...were you trying to rush up?"

Shen Lian did not answer.

"I saw you take a step forward," Fang Xuejian's voice lowered. "Are you fucking crazy? That's a knife! People can die!"

The wound on Shen Lian's arm throbbed with pain; the blood had congealed, sticking the sleeve to his skin.

"Shen Lian," Fang Xuejian's voice suddenly choked, "What will I do if you die?"

In the darkness, Shen Lian heard him sniffle. The sound was very soft, like a kitten's whimper, and it was especially clear in the cramped carriage.

Shen Lian's heart softened inexplicably.

But he still didn't open his eyes.

The carriage remained quiet for a long time. The wheels rolled over the stone pavement, making a dull thud, one beat after another, like a heartbeat.

"I won't die." Shen Lian's voice was very soft. "I won't die."

The carriage stopped.

This time it really stopped; there was no detour, no hesitation.

The car door opened, and a night breeze rushed in. The breeze carried a slightly bitter, astringent scent—the aroma of pomegranate trees. Shen Lian was helped out of the car, his feet sinking into the blue brick floor, the cracks in which fine moss grew.

There was a wooden door in front of me.

It was a very ordinary house. The paint had peeled off, revealing the grayish-white wood underneath. The door knocker was made of iron and was covered in rust. There was no plaque or any markings above the door; it looked no different from any other house in the alley.

But Shen Lian knew that this was no ordinary courtyard.

The door was pushed open.

Inside was a small courtyard paved with blue bricks, with a pomegranate tree planted in the corner. Directly opposite were three main rooms, two side rooms on the left, and a kitchen and woodshed on the right. The courtyard wall was very high, at least two people high, with broken porcelain shards stuck on top, gleaming coldly in the light, like a row of jagged teeth.

Shen Lian stood in the middle of the courtyard and slowly walked around.

The location of the hidden sentry—

There was one on each of the rooftops on either side of the main gate. Another one was behind the pomegranate tree in the northeast corner of the courtyard. And at least one more was behind the main house. All four sentries were skilled. Their breathing was extremely low, but Shen Lian could hear it.

Wei Liangbi walked out of the main room.

He wore a perfectly measured smile, honed through his experience in officialdom. Yet, deep down, he still possessed a shrewdness and a keen eye for detail that he couldn't hide.

"Mr. Shen," he smiled, "I'm sorry to have to suffer. This place isn't as comfortable as your home, but it's better than the imperial prison."

Shen Lian didn't reply.

Wei Liangbi didn't mind, stepped aside, and gestured "please": "The main room is yours, the east wing is for Young Master Fang. The west wing is the study, the books and paper you requested are all there. There's a cook in the kitchen, he prepares three meals a day, just let me know what you'd like to eat in advance."

Shen Lian walked into the main room.

The room was small but clean. There was a wooden bed with a new cotton quilt and a buckwheat hull pillow that felt hard to the touch. By the window was a table and a chair, on which sat an oil lamp, several books, and a stack of papers. In the corner was a wooden basin filled with water, on which floated a wooden ladle.

A breeze drifted in through the cracks in the window, carrying the scent of pomegranate leaves.

Fang Xuejian was led to the east wing, and he started shouting as soon as he entered.

"There's a bed! There's a table! And a window!" His voice came from next door, bright and cheerful for the first time in three months. "Shen Lian! Look, there's a window!"

Shen Lian walked to the door of the east wing and saw Fang Xuejian peering out the window. The window frame was made of wood and covered with mulberry paper; moonlight streamed in, casting dappled shadows on his face.

"Shen Lian." He turned his head, his voice trembling slightly, a mixture of excitement and inexplicable melancholy, "I haven't seen the moon for more than four months."

Shen Lian turned and went back to the main room, sitting on the bed. The bed was hard, but much better than the haystacks in the imperial prison. He picked up a book from the table and flipped through it—Volume 3 of "Supplement to the Great Learning".

Qiu Jun added two items to Zhen Dexiu's "Extended Meaning of the Great Learning" from the Southern Song Dynasty: governing the country and bringing peace to the world.

It's a good book. It talks about the ways emperors govern the country.

But now he can't even get through a prison gate.

He gave a wry smile.

Wei Liangbi stood at the door with his arms crossed.

"Mr. Shen, from today onwards, you will be a 'Special Advisor' to the Northern Garrison." He emphasized the words "Special Advisor" clearly, "You will be specifically responsible for providing intelligence analysis on the Yan Song case. You will receive a monthly stipend of ten taels of silver, and books, paper, and pens will be provided in abundance. You can tell the cook what you want to eat."

He paused, his gaze lingering on Shen Lian's face for a moment.

"But there's one thing—you can't leave this compound. You can't contact anyone outside. All mail must be censored." He smiled, a businesslike glint in his eyes. "That's the rule. You understand."

Shen Lian looked at him.

"A consultant?" he asked.

Wei Liangbi smiled: "Yes, advisor."

They're called advisors, but in reality, they're under house arrest in disguise. It's just a nicer name. Nominally, they're honored guests, but in reality, they're prisoners.

But at least, I won't die.

Fang Xuejian peeked out from the east wing, clutching a handful of sand he'd stolen from the kitchen, his eyes gleaming frighteningly: "Shen Lian! There's a stove in the kitchen! And sand! And wood ash too! Can I—"

Shen Lian glanced at him.

That look clearly said: Can you be a little more reserved?

But it's nothing unusual. After being locked up for four months, seeing a stove and sand is like seeing one's own father.

"...Don't rush," Shen Lian said. "Let me figure out the situation here first."

Wei Liangbi glanced at Shen Lian, then at Fang Xuejian, his lips twitching as he tried to laugh but held it back.

"The things Young Master Fang requested will be delivered tomorrow," he said. "The crucibles are hard to find, but there are a few porcelain shops in the city where you should be able to buy them. There's also a book called 'Yingzao Fashi,' which discusses architecture and kilns."

Fang Xuejian's eyes suddenly lit up like two 1,000-watt light bulbs.

Damn engineering guys.

Wei Liangbi quietly closed the door and left.

But Shen Lian recognized the sound – there were at least three locks on the door. They were made of brass, not iron, and the clanging sound was dull; they were new locks.

House arrest. Still a bird in a cage.

He thought, isn't life also an invisible cage? All living beings are trapped in it, yet they are also happy and carefree.

Fang Xuejian ran out of the east wing, stood in the middle of the courtyard, and looked up at the sky. The moon was very round, and the whole courtyard was brightly lit.

"Shen Lian!" he exclaimed excitedly, "The moon! Look, the moon!"

Shen Lian walked out of the main room and looked up.

Not that fist-sized vent in the imperial prison. This was the real, complete sky. The moon was bright, there were only a few stars, and in the distance, there were clouds, a thin layer like gauze.

Fang Xuejian walked around the courtyard. He touched the bark of the pomegranate tree, touched the blue bricks on the wall, squatted down and used his fingers to dig out a clump of moss from a crack in the stone, then brought it to his nose and smelled it.

Shen Lian looked at him but did not stop him.

People released from prison by imperial decree always need a period of adjustment.

"Shen Lian." Fang Xuejian stood up, dusted off his hands, and lowered his voice, "Tell me, where are the hidden sentries in this courtyard?"

Shen Lian glanced at him.

Fang Xuejian chuckled twice: "Stop pretending, I figured it out too. There are two on the roof of the main gate, one behind the pomegranate tree, and one behind the main house. At least four."

Shen Lian turned and went back to the main room. Fang Xuejian followed, lowering his voice even further: "Can we run?"

"They can't escape," Shen Lian said. "The sentries are only the visible ones. There are more outside the courtyard."

Fang Xuejian's expression changed slightly: "How did you know?"

The standard setup for this resettlement site is four visible and four concealed sentries, with eight sentries on duty in shifts, changing shifts every two hours. Every step taken by the people in the courtyard is within their sight.

Fang Xuejian remained silent for a while.

Then he laughed.

"Then we won't run." He leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and looked up at the roof beam. "Anyway, it's better than the imperial prison. This is high-level security."

He moved a chair from the east wing and sat opposite Shen Lian.

"Shen Lian, what do you think we should do from now on?"

"Survive," Shen Lian said. "Then, find a chance to be truly free."

Footsteps echoed in the courtyard again.

The lantern light shone on Wei Liangbi's face, making it difficult to see his expression.

"Mr. Shen." He came in and placed the food box on the table. "Dinner. The cook made it. Please try it and see if it suits your taste."

The food box was opened.

Four dishes and one soup. Braised pork, steamed fish, stir-fried vegetables, tofu soup, and a bowl of white rice.

The dishes were the same as those in the imperial prison, but prepared with greater refinement. The braised pork was cut into evenly sized cubes, with a deep, rich sauce, and sprinkled with bright green scallions. The steamed fish had several incisions made on its body, with ginger slices stuffed into the cuts, and the broth was so clear that you could see the bottom of the plate.

Shen Lian picked up the bowl, took a piece of braised pork, and put it in his mouth.

The sauce was richer than the one in the prison, with a hint of sweetness—it contained rock sugar.

Shen Lian knew exactly how much of the four dishes and one soup were needed.

Wei Liangbi wanted Shen Lian to trust him. Or rather, he wanted Shen Lian to feel that he was trustworthy.

"Mr. Shen," Wei Liangbi began, "Lord Zhu is very interested in you. He said that if you can continue to provide valuable intelligence, he can help you regain your identity and even give you a proper official position."

Shen Lian put down his chopsticks and looked at him.

"What official position?"

Wei Liangbi smiled: "That depends on what you can offer. Lord Zhu said that if you can uncover the entire bribery network of the Yan faction in the southeast, he can recommend you for the position of Prefect of the Northern Garrison Command—a seventh-rank official with real power."

A seventh-rank official, serving as the Prefect of the Northern Garrison.

This was a position that was neither particularly high nor low. It wasn't a high-ranking position, not even close to being a high-ranking officer in the Embroidered Uniform Guard. But it wasn't a low-ranking position either; at least it was better than being a death row inmate. Hai Rui, when he was the magistrate of Chun'an, was a seventh-rank official.

He definitely wants to become an official.

But that's not the point right now; the point is that Zhu Xixiao is testing him.

He would see if Shen Lian was tempted by the official position. If Shen Lian showed excitement, Zhu Xixiao would think he was greedy for wealth and status—such a person was easy to control but untrustworthy. If Shen Lian showed disdain, Zhu Xixiao would think he had someone backing him, making him even more suspicious.

Shen Lian picked up the soup bowl and took a sip.

The saltiness is just right.

"Please thank Lord Zhu for me. But right now, I just want to do my job well and share the burden with those above me. We'll talk about other things after the Yan faction issue is resolved."

Wei Liangbi's smile froze.

It recovered quickly.

"Okay," he said. "Then I won't disturb your rest any longer."

He walked to the door and turned around.

"Mr. Shen, Lord Zhu also said something else."

Shen Lian waited for him to continue.

He said, "If you really are an undercover agent, then I won't investigate. If you're not, then you'd better pretend to be."

The footsteps faded into the distance.

Fang Xuejian poked his head out from next door, his face a little pale: "What does he mean?"

"It means he left me a way out," Shen Lian said, "but only one. The key is whether your life is worth saving."

Fang Xuejian swallowed hard. "Being an official is so complicated. I was just saying I wanted to show off my power. What are we going to do now?"

The moonlight shone on the pomegranate tree, and the shadows of its branches fell to the ground like a net.

Shen Lian suddenly smiled.

"What? What to do? We'll deal with it. Let's make glass first."

Fang Xuejian was taken aback: "Making glass? What the hell?"

"Yes. Starting tomorrow, you'll manufacture glass. I'll write intelligence." Shen Lian looked calmly at the pomegranate tree in the yard. "We need to make Zhu Xixiao feel that we are useful. Very useful."

Fang Xuejian paused for a few moments, then grinned.

"Okay. I'll start lighting the stove tomorrow."

Shen Lian looked at the pomegranate tree in the courtyard and fell into deep thought.

Zhu Xixiao wanted to investigate him; this was the most dangerous hurdle. If he passed this hurdle, he would truly be safe. If he failed—

Fang Xuejian had already begun setting up his "laboratory" in the east wing. The sounds of bowls and plates clattering, sand being poured into a basin, and him muttering to himself, "Seventeen hundred degrees, seventeen hundred degrees... First modify the furnace, then change the formula..."

Shen Lian drew a picture in his mind.

The structure of the courtyard house. The location of the sentries. The shift change times. Possible escape routes.

This is something he would do anywhere. Not because he wanted to run away—but because he needed to know what kind of cage he was being kept in.

Tomorrow, he will begin writing his first intelligence report.

It wasn't for Wei Liangbi to see. It was for Zhu Xixiao. He wanted Zhu Xixiao to believe that he was "someone from above." Not with words, but with actions. Each piece of intelligence was so precise it was unbelievable.