In the early morning alleys of Luocheng, Wuyun moved lightly and gracefully, unhurried, with the demeanor of a seasoned general. Behind it, only six of the most agile tabby cats followed.

As they passed, a guard dog rushed out, barking furiously. However, one tabby cat merely cast a cool, warning glance at the dog, which immediately whimpered and retreated into its house.

The next moment, a tabby cat sprinted back, meowing: “Didn’t find him!”

Wuyun meowed back: “Keep searching, report again!”

The tabby cat turned and darted away.

Soon after, another tabby cat that had been scouting turned back: “Didn’t find him!”

Wuyun: “Keep searching, report again!”

It had sent out six tabby cats, each taking a different path to search. It refused to believe they couldn’t find the person Chen Ji had mentioned.

Just then, a tabby cat ran back: “Found him!”

Wuyun shot out with a whoosh, its black form flowing as smoothly and fiercely as a wisp of shadow.

Commander Si Cao had reached Changning Street, his short blade now out of sight, hidden within his sleeve. As he walked among the crowds, he seemed like the most ordinary tenant farmer, unremarkable in every way.

Pedestrians on Luocheng’s streets were gradually increasing. Every household carried out their chamber pots, pouring the overnight waste into the public latrines built by the government along the streets. Night soil collectors gathered around the latrines; as residents poured, they scooped. In this era, the collection of human waste had become a huge industry. Merchants mixed the waste with hardened soil to shape it, then composted it and sold it to farmers. Some night soil collectors accumulated vast wealth from this business, earning them the unique title of “Tipper.”

Commander Si Cao suddenly stopped. He turned his head slightly, his eyes under his bamboo hat sharp as knives, cutting across every pedestrian. But no matter how long he searched, he found no clues.

Strange, Commander Si Cao always felt an inexplicable sense of impending danger, like a needle pressing against his brow, making it tingle. Every time he was being watched, he felt this sensation. Yet this time, he couldn’t find anyone watching him.

As he was scrutinizing, a tabby cat sauntered past his feet. Commander Si Cao gave it only a fleeting glance before his gaze moved elsewhere, without a second thought.

Who was tracking him? The Secret Intelligence Bureau? Or was it Manager Yuan? Or the Liu family?

Thinking this, Commander Si Cao quickened his pace. He ducked into a dead-end alley, and with a light leap, he scaled the wall. Crouching, he moved behind a rooftop ridge, cautiously peeking his head out to watch the alley, hoping to see who might follow. But Commander Si Cao waited for a full quarter of an hour and still saw no one follow. On the roofs of these residential buildings, only a black cat was playing with a tabby cat nearby; there was nothing unusual.

Commander Si Cao let out a soft sigh of relief. “It seemed his nerves had been too taut lately, making him overthink things…”

In a deserted alley, Chen Ji leaned against a grey wall, breathing slowly. He wasn’t sure if Wuyun could catch up to Commander Si Cao, but he had to try.

In the past, he had no allegiance between the Ning Dynasty’s Secret Planning Bureau and the Jing Dynasty’s Military Intelligence Bureau; he could work for anyone, as long as they paid him. But life couldn’t always be a tightrope walk… The moment he watched the morning sun from the Drum Tower, seeing his Ning Dynasty friends around him, Chen Ji suddenly yearned for a new beginning. And his identity as a Military Intelligence Bureau spy was like an impassable chasm on his path towards this ‘new beginning’. To have a new beginning, he had to end his old identity.

Now, only four people should know his identity as a Military Intelligence Bureau spy: his uncle, two commanders, and the chief. His legendary uncle had already stepped down; that person could no longer control the Military Intelligence Bureau, and thus naturally could not control him. If this uncle could be completely overthrown by his political rivals, that would truly be the best outcome – they would be separated by two dynasties, never to meet again…

As for the remaining three, if he killed them all, he could gradually fade from the Jing Dynasty Military Intelligence Bureau’s radar. The Young Lord had once asked him what he wanted to do in the future from atop the Drum Tower. At the time, he didn’t know, only saying he wanted to survive. Now he knew what he wanted to do: he wanted to escape the Jing Dynasty Military Intelligence Bureau.

Chen Ji braced himself against the wall, slowly straightening up. His wound, which Manager Yuan had just pressed, had reopened from his hasty journey. Only when he lifted his clothes did he realize his trousers were soaked with blood. But there was no time to dwell on it. He patted the dust off his clothes and limped down the alley towards the medical clinic.

Chen Ji pulled down his garment to cover the bloodstain on his trousers, but just as he stepped out of the alley, he retreated. At that very moment, Jin Zhu was standing at the entrance of Taiping Medical Clinic, speaking to someone through the door. Chen Ji frowned. Jin Zhu was blocking his way back. If Baili opened the door for him now, and he discovered Chen Ji wasn’t inside the clinic, he would surely become suspicious.

“Baili, you absolutely must stall him,” Chen Ji’s heart pounded with anxiety as he struggled to climb onto the roof. He didn’t even know if Baili would help him buy time, as he hadn’t told her anything about it.

At the entrance of Taiping Medical Clinic.

“Are you Chen Ji’s friend?” Princess Baili asked, puzzled, through the door.

“Yes,” Jin Zhu smiled, “Please open the door. I’ve brought him some nourishing things.”

At this moment, Baili subconsciously wanted to say that Chen Ji had gone out and he should come back later. But she looked back at the empty bamboo chair, remembering how Chen Ji had quietly slipped out, and suddenly felt she couldn’t say that. She thought for a few seconds: “Chen Ji is quite seriously injured. He’s sleeping right now. Please wait a moment, I’ll go wake him.”

Jin Zhu mumbled outside the door: “This princess from the manor lacks social graces. Even if you go wake him up, at least let me in to sit and wait. What’s the meaning of not even opening the door… Huh?” He gently pulled the door, then pushed it, only to realize that the Taiping Medical Clinic’s door was bolted shut and couldn’t be opened at all.

Jin Zhu grew even more puzzled. Although a clinic didn’t need to open as early as a breakfast shop, wasn’t anyone fetching water in the early morning? With the door bolted, what were they doing inside? Thinking of this, Jin Zhu slowly retreated to Anxi Street, his gaze sweeping over the rooftops. Just as he was about to climb onto the roof and sneak in to investigate, he heard Princess Baili’s voice from inside the Taiping Medical Clinic: “Chen Ji is still sleeping, but you can come in and wait for him. I’ll open the door for you.”

Hearing this, Jin Zhu abandoned his thought of sneaking in and waited patiently. But he waited and waited, and the door still didn’t open.

Jin Zhu asked in a low voice, “Why isn’t the door opening?”

Princess Baili urgently replied from inside, “This bolt seems to be stuck somehow, I can’t pull it out.”

The next moment, Jin Zhu exerted force and yanked the door hard, and with a *ka-chunk*, the bolt snapped. Inside, the princess was startled and took several steps back. Jin Zhu, smiling, strode directly in: “Perhaps this bolt was rotten, that’s why it wouldn’t open. I’ll send someone to custom-make a new one this afternoon, guaranteed to work well.”

The princess grew anxious, desperately tugging at his arm: “Hey, how can you trespass like this? It’s outrageous! You’re not that villain who hurt Chen Ji, are you? Don’t even think about hurting him again!” However, the princess’s strength was no match for Jin Zhu’s; she was actually dragged, sliding across the floor.

The princess shouted loudly, “Brother, Imperial Physician Yao, Dog’er, someone’s breaking into the clinic!”

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” The Young Lord was the first to rush over, blocking Jin Zhu’s path and grabbing his clothes. But Jin Zhu was slippery; with just a turn, he broke free from both the Young Lord and the princess, bumping into Liang Mao’er. He pushed Liang Mao’er, but couldn’t move him. Instead, Liang Mao’er, with pursed lips, pushed him back to the main hall’s entrance!

“Hey,” Jin Zhu, refusing to believe it, struggled and grappled with Liang Mao’er, trying to use wrestling techniques to throw him to the ground. But strangely, Liang Mao’er’s stance was even more stable than his; he couldn’t be thrown at all!

“Eh?” Jin Zhu looked at Liang Mao’er in surprise: “Natural divine strength!”

Liang Mao’er tugged at Jin Zhu’s clothes, his voice muffled, “Why are you breaking into the clinic?”

Knowing he couldn’t confront him head-on, Jin Zhu immediately shed his outer garment like a snake shedding its skin, slipped out from under Liang Mao’er’s armpit, and dove into the apprentices’ sleeping quarters. He paused in surprise. In the dimly lit apprentices’ sleeping quarters, Chen Ji was lying on the communal bed, wrapped in a blanket, deeply asleep – completely different from what he had expected.

The Young Lord, the princess, She Dengke, Liu Quxing, and others rushed into the apprentices’ sleeping quarters, wanting to drag Jin Zhu out the door. But Jin Zhu’s feet seemed to be nailed to the ground; he didn’t budge no matter how much they dragged him.

The princess turned to Liang Gou’er: “Dog’er, help!” But Liang Gou’er continued sweeping the floor, pretending not to hear anything.

Seeing this, Liang Mao’er grabbed Jin Zhu’s arm and pulled with all his might, actually yanking him out the door. Jin Zhu was pulled off his feet and gasped, “Holy crap!” Liang Mao’er carried Jin Zhu to the courtyard, where a group of people surrounded him, blocking him at the kitchen entrance.

Baili stood outside the door, hands on her hips. She frowned, her slender willow-leaf brows furrowed, and chastised in a low voice: “You’re not Chen Ji’s friend at all, are you? Who barges into a friend’s house like this?”

Jin Zhu quickly explained with a smile: “Wasn’t I just worried about Chen Ji? You took so long to open the door, I thought something had happened inside.”

“Even if the sky were falling, you shouldn’t act like this!” Old Man Yao, with his hands clasped behind his back, slowly spoke from beside the apricot tree: “Lord Jin Zhu, what brings you to our doorstep today?”

Jin Zhu lifted the pastries and fruits he was carrying in both hands: “Previously, our Secret Intelligence Bureau was apprehending a Jing Dynasty spy, and inadvertently, the spy escaped, which is how the passing Chen Ji was injured. Ultimately, he was injured like this due to our oversight, so I felt very bad and came specifically to visit him.”

The Young Lord and Baili froze. This fat man was actually from the Secret Intelligence Bureau! No wonder Liang Gou’er didn’t want to intervene just now! The two glanced at Liang Gou’er, but he was still holding his bamboo broom, acting as if nothing had happened.

Baili turned to Jin Zhu and said: “Lord Jin Zhu, you’ve seen the person and delivered your gifts, please leave now.”

“In the future, please diligently and responsibly apprehend Jing Dynasty spies, and don’t let them escape and injure people again… Where is the spy who injured Chen Ji currently being held?”

Jin Zhu said with a smile, “Held? No, no, Chen Ji killed him.”

The Young Lord and Baili gasped, instinctively looking back at the apprentices’ sleeping quarters. Before this, they had been completely unable to connect Chen Ji with killing. Baili recalled Chen Ji’s actions just now, and her expression became complicated. This medical apprentice didn’t seem as simple as she had thought…

While everyone was stunned, Jin Zhu, like a loach, slipped through the gaps in the crowd. He darted into the apprentices’ sleeping quarters, pulled back the blanket covering Chen Ji, revealing half of his body. Chen Ji, wearing an inner sleeping garment, slowly opened his eyes: “Lord Jin Zhu, why are you here?”

Jin Zhu’s tightly furrowed brows slowly relaxed. Before the others could surround him again, he quickly bowed with a smile and said, “I won’t disturb you today. I’ll come visit again when Chen Ji is feeling better.” With that, he made a quick escape.

Chen Ji sat on the bed, panting. Jin Zhu was too difficult to deal with; his suspicious nature, unwilling to let go of even the smallest detail, was undoubtedly what the Secret Intelligence Bureau needed most. But to have such a person as an opponent, even a slight mistake could lead to eternal damnation.

The others wanted to come in and ask Chen Ji what was going on, but Baili stood at the door and quietly said, “You all go attend to your duties. I have something I want to ask him.”

After everyone had left, Baili asked, “Where did you just go?”

Chen Ji was silent for a moment: “Princess, I don’t want to lie to you. If you are willing to trust me, please don’t ask.”

“Then first tell me, was someone arranged for you to be with me and my brother?”

“No, and I would never do anything to harm you.”

“Alright, I won’t ask again in the future. Rest assured, I won’t tell anyone about what just happened.” With that, she turned and left the room, calling to the Young Lord: “Brother, let’s go back to the manor.”

The Young Lord was taken aback: “Are you in such a hurry to go back? I wanted to stay for lunch.”

Chen Ji sat on the bed, listening to the sounds of them climbing the ladder and scaling the wall to leave, speechless.

The window of the apprentices’ sleeping quarters moved slightly. Wuyun’s head squeezed through a crack, and like liquid, it slipped inside: “I found the person you were looking for. He’s a coachman for the Liu family.”