Chapter Sixty-Nine: Leaving Without Saying Goodbye?

The entire day slipped by swiftly. As the sun dipped lower in the sky, not only had Zhang Yurou stayed in the Xiyun Courtyard without leaving once, but Ding Li too had vanished as if evaporated from the face of the earth. No one in the entire Zhang residence had seen him all day. Yet, the room where he had slept was completely empty, the teapot, cups, and bedding all tidied up so meticulously that the guest room looked as though it had never been occupied.

Zhang Mingzhi was bewildered. He recalled the words he’d spoken to Ding Li that morning in his room, and thinking back on the quarrel with his sister at noon, he was filled with regret. Still, he found it hard to believe that Ding Li would simply leave without saying a word.

Ding Li’s disappearance was discovered at lunchtime. After Yang Hongwen had hurriedly departed, Zhang Mingzhi and Zhang Wu prepared to eat, but the servant sent to fetch Ding Li came back in a panic, reporting that he was nowhere to be found in the guest room. Zhang Mingzhi felt a wave of anxiety, but he managed to keep calm and instructed Zhang Wu to have their men, who were out gathering news of Wang Jie and the others, to also keep an eye out for Ding Li in the city.

Three hours went by in a flash. The city gates of Fuxu Town were about to be sealed for the night; unless someone was with a major merchant caravan, the guards would never let them through. Still, Zhang Mingzhi had received no word of Ding Li’s whereabouts.

“Damn it! What’s with that kid? It’s almost time for dinner! If my sister asks, how am I supposed to explain this?” Zhang Mingzhi slammed the table beside him twice in frustration, his heart full of regret. Though he didn’t want to believe Ding Li had up and left, a sense of unease gnawed at him—for someone as proud and unruly as Ding Li, it wasn’t impossible.

Zhang Wu, too, was visibly anxious. Although he had yet to receive any news of Wang Jie and the others, he had already made arrangements: at the hour of the pig, they would launch a raid on the floating brothels at Little South Lake. But now, without Ding Li’s formidable skills, Zhang Wu couldn’t help but worry.

Judging by Zhang Mingzhi’s behavior all afternoon, and Zhang Yurou’s absence, Zhang Wu quickly connected Ding Li’s disappearance to something involving the siblings. The suspicion grew stronger in his mind, but he didn’t dare ask directly. All he could do was pray silently that Ding Li hadn’t truly left, but was caught up in some unforeseen event.

Near Little South Lake in Fuxu Town, night had not yet fully fallen, but the area was already ablaze with lights and crowded with people from all walks of life, each eager to embrace the night’s pleasures.

In the throng, a well-dressed middle-aged man with a faint blue stubble wandered aimlessly. He appeared to take a keen interest in everything, ambling from stall to stall, occasionally picking up a few trinkets with some copper coins. No one noticed, however, that his dark eyes were as calm and deep as an ancient well, betraying nothing. Even when haggling with vendors, his face remained relaxed and natural, though there was a hint of distraction about him.

As the crowd waited with mounting excitement, dusk finally descended. The bright moonlight bathed every corner of Little South Lake, and the familiar chant of “wine, meat, riches, and women—the four delights of Little South Lake!” once again rang out. At that moment, the middle-aged man seemed to find his purpose. After a casual glance around, a sharp gleam flashed in his eyes. He strode determinedly toward his destination.

His destination was the Caoyun Pavilion, a pleasure barge renowned for its nightly revelry. On his way, the man somehow acquired a small jug of wine, and now appeared half-drunk, staggering as he walked.

Yet his presence drew no attention from those around the Caoyun Pavilion. Even the guards on the boat barely glanced at him; they saw men like this every night by the hundreds and thought nothing of it.

When the middle-aged man reached the barge, he paused briefly, cast a scornful look at the Caoyun Pavilion, and continued on, seemingly unimpressed. After crossing the entire vessel, his eyes flashed again, and his steps became even more unsteady, like a true drunkard. Tilting his head back, he took a long swig from his wine jug, then, weaving and swaying, approached a man on the bank wearing a conical hat, who seemed to be fishing.

The man in the hat reacted instantly, a flash of wariness in his eyes. But when he saw the stranger’s unfamiliar face, he relaxed, fixing his gaze on the fishing rod before him, though his peripheral vision never left the other man, his mind full of questions.

“Hey there, brother! With all this noise, do you really think you’ll catch any fish?” The middle-aged man waved his hand dismissively, his words slurred with drink, and nearly toppled into the lake as he spoke.

“If they’re willing, they’ll bite,” the man in the hat replied coolly, his suspicion deepening, though he kept up a calm front.

“True enough!” the other nodded, taking another gulp of wine. After a pause, he suddenly lurched closer, the drunkenness vanishing from his face as his eyes flashed with cold light. “So, where’s Old Fifth Hua? Is he the fish?”

“What?!” The man in the hat jerked in shock, his face filling with terror. He realized at once that this supposed drunk was up to no good. As he tried to get up, a sharp pain pierced his neck, and he lost consciousness, slumping against the stranger’s shoulder.

The commotion around them completely masked what had just happened. The middle-aged man propped up the unconscious fisherman, slung his arm over his own shoulder, pulled the conical hat lower to hide the man’s face, then staggered away. To any onlooker, they were nothing more than two drunken revelers, meriting no attention at all.

The pair soon vanished into the crowd. After some time, in a pitch-black alley, the middle-aged man dumped the unconscious figure against the wall. Feeling thirsty, he took a few sips from his jug, then poured the rest over the man’s head. The man in the hat jerked awake, shaking his head and trying to get up, but took a heavy kick to the face, blood spurting from his nose and mouth.

“Speak! Where are the troublemakers from last night’s incident on the barge being hidden?” The man, now having shed all pretense, pressed a cold dagger to his captive’s throat, his eyes radiating murderous intent.

“You… you’re that man from last night? The one with Second Master Zhang?!” The captive, far from dazed, snapped to attention. Hearing the question, he understood at once.

“Smart. Yes, it’s me—Ding Li!” Ding Li pressed the dagger even closer, his voice icy. “Let’s hope you keep being clever. I won’t ask twice. Let me give you a kindly warning: killing is easy for me, but making you wish you were dead is even easier. I have at least a hundred ways to make you suffer. Don’t waste my time—think carefully before you answer.”

“I—I…” The man’s gaze darted nervously, but the savage light in Ding Li’s eyes convinced him this was no bluff. He shivered violently, then in a trembling voice asked, “If I tell you, will you let me go?”

“You can keep your life,” Ding Li replied without hesitation.

After sizing Ding Li up once more, the captive realized that silence meant certain death. Steeling himself, he said in a low voice, “The top floor of the Caoyun Pavilion—the two rooms in the southeast corner! All the people from the Wang Trading Company are there. I’ve told you. You promised to let me go!”

“Rest assured, I, Ding Li, never break my word,” Ding Li said, a hint of a smile playing at his lips as he looked at the man’s terrified face. Then his expression hardened, and he added coldly, “But remember, never show your face again in Fuxu. Or you won’t live to regret it.”

Before the man could nod, Ding Li flicked his wrist and brought the hilt of his dagger down hard on the side of his head. The man’s eyes rolled back and he collapsed. Just to be sure, Ding Li turned him over and delivered a few heavy blows with his fist to the back of his neck and spine, bones cracking audibly. Then he stood up and left swiftly.

Unburdened, Ding Li returned to the vicinity of the Caoyun Pavilion in no time. This time, however, the pale blue stubble on his chin had been transformed into a dense, neat beard, and his once-clean cheeks now bore a touch of bristle. He looked weary and seasoned, the very picture of a man who had seen much of the world.

Disguise was child’s play for Ding Li. When he reappeared at the Caoyun Pavilion, no one recognized him as the scornful drunk from before. Even the boat’s guards took him for an affluent guest come to enjoy himself.

“Sir, how many in your party? Which floor would you like?” A young man with a fawning smile greeted him as soon as he boarded.

“What, no women on this boat? Why send a man to serve me? Or is this place only for men?” Ding Li’s voice was icy, his face full of disdain, clearly looking for trouble.

The young man’s smile faltered briefly, but when he saw the gold leaves in Ding Li’s hand, he realized this was a first-time guest and quickly recovered. Smiling, he gestured to the stairs behind him. “Oh, sir jests! We have more ladies than you could ever imagine upstairs. I worry your eyes might not be able to take it all in!”

“You saying my eyes aren’t up to the task?” Ding Li’s face darkened, glaring at the young man, who looked stricken and at a loss for words. Suddenly, Ding Li burst out laughing, clapped the man heavily on the shoulder, and strode toward the stairs, tossing the gold leaves to him. Without looking back, he called, “You sure know how to talk! Let’s see how many women you really have. The best room, the finest food and wine—I’m entertaining an important guest tonight!”

The young man was left bewildered by Ding Li’s sudden change of mood. But when he looked down and saw the gold leaves in his hand, he snapped to attention and called after Ding Li’s retreating back, “Rest assured, sir! I’ll see to everything at once!”