Chapter Forty-Eight: Hidden in Plain Sight

Heyue Restaurant was the largest establishment along the Qinhuai River, boasting three stories and occupying an area twice the size of an ordinary eatery. Yet, with so many restaurants along the riverbank, business was far from thriving. As fate would have it, the aging owner of Heyue desired to return to his roots, and thus transferred ownership of the restaurant. Since then, the place had closed for renovation in early July, and only now, on the twenty-sixth, did it reopen under a new name: Heaven on Earth.

Inside, the first floor was set aside for casual diners. Upon entering, one would see the counter, behind which stood shelves displaying various wines. Above the counter hung bamboo boards listing dishes and their prices. The second floor was divided into private rooms, while the third floor housed a spacious hall designed for banquets and feasts. Most distinctive of all, at the far end of the first floor near the entrance, a small stage had been erected.

Today was opening day. Upon the stage stood a long table, with a pot of tea, a cup, and a wooden block placed atop it. Behind the table stood a rather ordinary-looking young man. The first-floor hall was packed to capacity, thanks to a series of promotional offers celebrating the restaurant’s reopening: several discounted dishes, complimentary tea, and a policy where spending above a certain amount entitled patrons to have their names recorded, granting them a discount on their next visit, and so on. As a result, everyone dining in the hall was focused on the young man behind the table on stage. Calmly, he sipped his tea, his eyes bright as he surveyed the room. Then, with his right hand, he lifted the wooden block and brought it down on the table with a crisp, resonant crack. The crowd, already curious about his purpose and whispering among themselves, fell silent at the sound. The youth, composed and confident, spoke in a clear voice: “On this auspicious day of our grand opening, I thank you all for your patronage. Allow me to tell you a story, to bring you a little diversion as you dine and drink. Today’s tale is called ‘The Eight Dragons of Heaven and Earth!’ And so the story begins…”

No one knew that beneath the restaurant lay a fully constructed basement. This underground chamber was connected above to a private room on the restaurant’s second floor, and below, led to the neighboring Yang Family General Store. In contrast to the grand reopening of the restaurant next door, this humble store had quietly changed hands and staff, attracting no attention. At this moment, in the rear room of the store—originally meant to be the accounts office—three people were gathered. One man sat before a desk by the bookshelf, engaged in conversation with another seated opposite him. These two were none other than Yang Yaozong and Qin Haizhou. The third person reclined on a low couch behind the bookshelf, reading a book. This was Jing Yijun.

Yang Yaozong and Qin Haizhou had just completed their training in the mountains, returning the previous day with the entire group. As before, Yang Yaozong divided the fifty men into ten squads of five, each named after an animal: Elephant, Lion, Tiger, Leopard, Wolf, Fox, Cat, Eagle, Goose, and Hawk. Within each squad, members bore code names: Mouth, Eye, Ear, Foot, and Tail. The one known as Mouth served as squad leader; for example, Elephant Mouth led the Elephant Squad, with Elephant Eye, Ear, Foot, and Tail as members.

Beyond the Elephant and Eagle Squads, which were assigned to work at the restaurant and the general store respectively, the other squads were dispatched by Yang Yaozong throughout the capital to gather all manner of intelligence—gossip, daily happenings, both ordinary and unusual. This also served as their training. The Elephant Squad observed and collected customer information within the restaurant, also ensuring the safety of this contact point. The Eagle Squad managed affairs at the general store and performed initial sorting and classification of intelligence, forwarding it to Yang Yaozong. Only the Elephant and Eagle Squads resided at the restaurant; the rest, still under Qin Haizhou’s charge, remained at the barracks. Yang Yaozong, operating under the alias Yang Guo, directed these men from the shadows, while Qin Haizhou served as their nominal leader.

After Qin Haizhou left, Yang Yaozong circled behind the bookshelf, leaning against it with a smile as he watched Jing Yijun reading on the couch. “You certainly live at your leisure,” he remarked.

Jing Yijun cast him a sidelong glance. “I hadn’t expected you to have a knack for business. That restaurant of yours will soon be raking in gold. What a shrewd merchant!”

After much time together, the two had grown extremely familiar, and in private dispensed with formalities. Yang Yaozong raised his eyebrows with a laugh, then sat by the window end of the low couch, poured himself some tea, and sipped. “Now that the Secret Intelligence Bureau has begun its operations, it will need a great deal of funds. It wouldn’t do to keep taking from His Majesty—and the imperial treasury is hardly flush. With the war against the nomads ongoing, the court’s needs are greater than ever. If I can keep this enterprise self-sufficient, it will also ease the emperor’s burdens.”

Jing Yijun gazed at him, her beautiful eyes lost in thought. “If only the ministers at court were as considerate as you.”

Yang Yaozong shook his head with a smile. “Merchants are regarded as lowly. How many grandees of the court would willingly stoop to such tasks? Besides, each has his own duties—focusing on a single responsibility is better than juggling several.”

Jing Yijun looked at him with curiosity. “Then why do you do these things that lower your status?”

Yang Yaozong smiled mysteriously. “Now, I am the highly skilled, martial Yang Guo, not Grand Tutor Yang Yaozong.”

Jing Yijun recalled their days in the mountains, when Yang Yaozong had challenged her to spar using a style called Wing Chun, stipulating she use only her unarmed skills. Yet whenever she did, her internal energy would flow naturally, and even when she restrained it, he was still no match for her. The memory of his dejection at repeated defeat made her want to laugh.

Still, Jing Yijun recognized the merits of Wing Chun. Its movements were agile, alternating hardness and softness, with a focus on dodging, closing in, and rapid attacks—an excellent style for close combat. She had once performed it before Yang Yaozong, executing the postures and techniques with such mastery that he could only gaze at her in awe. In terms of martial talent, he was far inferior and knew it; since then, he had never again brought up sparring with her.

Jing Yijun glanced at him with mock annoyance. “So why did you choose this place for the Secret Intelligence Bureau?”

Yang Yaozong smiled. “The greatest concealment is found in plain sight. Who would suspect the emperor’s secret bureau to be hidden here? And, after all, our chief task is to collect intelligence, most of which comes from the common people.”

Jing Yijun noticed Yang Yaozong gazing out the window and snorted. “This louvered window you invented—was it so you could spy on the place across the street? ‘Hidden in plain sight,’ indeed! As I recall, your view is directly opposite Drunken Red Dust! Are your motives truly so pure?”

In truth, Yang Yaozong had not chosen the spot to keep watch over Yin Ruxin, for he knew she rarely appeared at Drunken Red Dust. He simply wanted a vantage point from which he could observe all the pleasure boats and brothels across the river; that his window directly faced Drunken Red Dust was mere coincidence.

He felt no need to explain, instead turning to Jing Yijun with a smile to change the subject. “Yijun, ever since I met you, you’ve always worn a veil. Don’t you find it stifling? When it’s just the two of us, you could take it off.”

Hearing him call her by name, Jing Yijun’s cheeks flushed faintly. She ignored his question, feigning absorption in her book and resuming her impassive expression.

As night fell, Jing Yijun drifted away, leaving Yang Yaozong still poring over the day’s intelligence, his expression alternating between frowns of concentration and moments of calm.

He spent the night there as he had the one before.

Once more, as midnight deepened, the bustle along the Qinhuai River faded to tranquility. Yang Yaozong, having finished his work, extinguished the lamp, lay back on the couch, and looked out across the way. To his surprise, Yin Ruxin had appeared in a third-floor room of Drunken Red Dust, leaning by the window and gazing toward the restaurant. Beside her, Ruyi crouched at the sill, laughing and pointing at the restaurant as she chatted animatedly.

Watching the beautiful woman across the river, Yang Yaozong suddenly felt himself caught in the poetic mood: you stand on the bridge watching the scenery, while those above watch you. The bright moon decorates your window, while you decorate someone else’s dream.

Inside Drunken Red Dust, Ruyi pointed excitedly at the restaurant across the river. “Miss, that’s the restaurant that just reopened today after renovations. They gave it such a poetic name—Heaven on Earth. I hear they have all kinds of special deals—discounted dishes, and the specials change every day. And all sorts of promotions: order noodles and get free pickles and stewed meat, or buy a stewed egg for four coins, a bowl of noodles for seven, but if you buy both together, it’s only ten coins. There are plenty of combinations to choose from! And you can listen to stories while you eat, too. Today’s tale was called ‘The Eight Dragons of Heaven and Earth’—everyone says it’s wonderful. Some people linger after their meal, reluctant to leave, just to hear the rest.”

Leaning by the window, Yin Ruxin rested her chin in her hand, smiling with interest at the restaurant Ruyi pointed to. “The owner of that restaurant is quite the business expert—a true, thoroughbred merchant!”