Ning Chen and his group returned to the Inspectorate.
“Ning Chen, what are you looking at?”
Feng Qizheng and the others had just finished tying up their horses when they noticed Ning Chen standing there, staring at the hitching post.
Chen Chong walked over, glanced at Ning Chen, then at the hitching post. “What are you looking at? Don’t tell me this hitching post is some kind of treasure.”
Ning Chen nodded, practically buzzing with excitement. “It really is a treasure. A huge one.”
The moment they heard “treasure,” everyone else crowded in for a look.
They stared at it for a good long while and still couldn’t see anything special about it.
“Isn’t this just a busted-up rock?”
Feng Qizheng muttered.
Ning Chen looked at him. “Where did this stone come from?”
“The Western Hills,” Feng Qizheng said. “Most of the stone used in the capital gets hauled in from there.”
“Is it far?”
“Not far. Ride hard and you could make it there and back in a day.”
Ning Chen gave a mysterious smile, turned, and ran off into the Inspectorate.
Feng Qizheng and the others exchanged looks, then went back to staring at the hitching post a while longer. Still nothing.
By the time they came back inside, Ning Chen already had a brush in hand, drawing something.
Feng Qizheng watched for a while. “Ning Chen, what the hell is that supposed to be?”
“Something good. You’ll find out soon enough.”
Ning Chen kept drawing.
After a while he set the brush down, looked over what he’d drawn, and nodded, pleased with himself.
Then he tucked the drawing into his robe and asked, “Do you know where the best blacksmith’s shop in the city is?”
Feng Qizheng thought it over. “If you mean a private one, Liu’s Forge in the outer city does the best ironwork… Are you looking to have a weapon made? You could go through the Ministry of War — the best smiths in the capital work there.”
Ning Chen considered this. “Let’s go. Take me to Liu’s Forge first.”
The two of them rode out to Liu’s Forge in the outer city.
The ring of hammer on iron never let up.
At the sight of them, a bare-chested man with muscles knotted like rope came out to meet them.
“What can I do for you, officers?”
That was because Feng Qizheng was wearing his fish-scale coat.
“Are you the owner?” Ning Chen asked.
“My father’s out,” the man said quickly. “Whatever you need, you can tell me.”
Ning Chen took out the drawing and handed it over. “Take a look — can this be made?”
The man took the paper. He had no idea what the thing on it was supposed to be, but it didn’t look hard to forge.
“It can be done, officer!”
Ning Chen’s face lit up. “Good. Make it for me… How long will it take?”
“A day. Come back this time tomorrow and it’ll be ready.”
They were all small parts. Nothing that would take long.
Ning Chen nodded. “Good, I’ll come by tomorrow, then… By the way, what’s your name?”
“This humble commoner is Liu Tiehu.”
Ning Chen’s expression suddenly turned serious. “This has to stay secret. If word gets out, the Inspectorate’s cells will be your new home.”
Liu Tiehu nodded frantically, badly frightened.
“Rest easy, officer. This humble commoner swears it won’t get out.”
Ning Chen grunted and tossed him two taels of silver.
“Officer, I couldn’t possibly… how could I take your silver?”
Liu Tiehu made a pained face. The silver felt like it would burn his hand.
Last time he’d forged a piece of ironwork for a constable and taken a few coins for it. The next day a whole pack of constables had shown up and fined him several taels over some trumped-up excuse.
“Take it, since I’m giving it to you,” Ning Chen said. “And remember — make it good and precise.”
“Rest easy, my lord. This humble commoner will put everything into it.”
Ning Chen nodded once and left with Feng Qizheng.
“Ning Chen, what exactly is this thing you’re having made? All hush-hush about it.”
Ning Chen grinned. “A gun.”
Feng Qizheng rolled his eyes. “Who are you trying to fool? You think I’ve never seen a spear?”
“Not the kind you’re thinking of… Forget it, this isn’t something I can explain in a hurry. Listen — when you get back, get me some gunpowder. Don’t let anyone else know.”
This world did have gunpowder, but it was only ever used for fireworks and firecrackers.
When Ning Chen had tied up his horse earlier, he’d noticed the hitching post was actually flint.
So it hit him at once: a flintlock.
As a former special forces commander, he knew firearms inside and out.
A flintlock was a simple thing to build. Not much stopping power, single-shot, and a pain to reload — but simple.
Feng Qizheng nodded — getting a little gunpowder through the Inspectorate wouldn’t be hard — then caught himself. “Wait, you’re not coming back to the Inspectorate?”
“I’ve got something else to take care of. You go on ahead… And don’t mention any of this to anyone today.”
Feng Qizheng stared at him. “Don’t tell me you’re off to the courtesans’ quarter to see Miss Yudie again. I’m telling you now — His Majesty doesn’t care if we go looking for a good time, but that’s night hours only. Go in broad daylight and get spotted, and somebody’s going straight to His Majesty to report us.”
Ning Chen laughed and swore at him. “You think I’m made of iron? I’m just wrecked from last night. I’m going home to catch up on my sleep.”
“You animal… poor Miss Yudie. God knows what state you left her in.”
Feng Qizheng looked genuinely stricken, beating his chest and stamping his foot. Just picturing that pig rooting around on Miss Yudie made him want to kill Ning Chen outright.
“None of your damn business, piss off…” Ning Chen yawned and rubbed at his lower back. “I can’t keep going like this… A girl of sixteen, her body soft as cream, wears a blade at her waist that cuts down ordinary men. You’ll never see a head fall, but in secret she’ll grind your very bones to dust.“
Feng Qizheng goggled at him with a pair of dead-fish eyes, beside himself. “Showing off, my ass — pah. So you can write a poem, big deal. My poor Miss Yudie, taken in by nothing more than that.”
Ning Chen rolled his eyes hard at him and swung up onto his horse.
“Hey — if the boss asks, what do I tell him?”
Ning Chen thought for a moment, then grinned. “Tell him I’m out working a case.”
That morning, on their way to the courtesans’ quarter, they’d taken Pan Yucheng’s horse without asking. Pan Yucheng was certain to have gone home in a rage over that.
Go back now and he’d get an earful for sure. Let Feng Qizheng and the rest have the pleasure of that one.
Ning Chen rode back to the Ning estate.
He had the servants draw hot water and took a good long bath. He’d sweated through the whole night before and hadn’t had time to wash up that morning.
Once he’d bathed, Ning Chen actually did go to bed.
He’d overindulged a little the night before, hadn’t slept until dawn, and had only gotten just over two hours. He really was worn out.
At the palace, after court let out, the Xuan Emperor made his way to the imperial study.
He had just picked up a memorial when Nie Liang requested an audience.
“Your Majesty, Ning Chen went to the courtesans’ quarter last night and didn’t come back until morning.”
The Xuan Emperor’s face darkened. He set the memorial down.
“The boy’s barely out of prison and he’s already off to a place like that… running after women at his age, picking up bad habits. It has to be those bastards at the Inspectorate leading him astray.”
Nie Liang kept his head down, privately sympathizing with Ning Chen’s colleagues. If Ning Chen hadn’t wanted to go, it wasn’t as if they could have dragged him there by force.
His Majesty simply doted on Ning Chen too much.
“What exactly did he do there?”
This…?
Nie Liang went blank for a second. What did anyone do at a place like that?
But His Majesty was asking, and he didn’t dare not answer.
“Reporting to Your Majesty — Ning Chen went to the courtesans’ quarter and composed two poems, then went to Miss Yudie’s room and didn’t come out until morning. He came back to the Inspectorate, stayed only a short while, then went to the outer city, and after that he went home.”
(End of Chapter 81)