Volume 1, Chapter 55: The City Gate

The leading secret agent stepped out of the main gate and suddenly halted his stride.

"Wait," he said to his subordinates. "Hang all the bodies from the city gates."

"Understood!"

The agents set about hauling the corpses.

The monks' bodies were carried out one by one, looking ghastly white in the moonlight.

The chief agent surveyed the scene and let out a cold sneer. "Let everyone see the fate of those who betray the imperial court!"

He turned to leave, then suddenly remembered something.

"Oh, and by the way," he instructed his subordinate, "look into this mark."

He pointed to the characters carved on the jade pendant.

His subordinate took the pendant, examined it closely, and replied, "Yes, sir!"

The agents continued with their tasks. Some hauled the bodies away, while others gathered evidence.

Everything inside the temple had been completely ransacked. The statue of Buddha stood there in lonely isolation, as if silently watching over the entire ordeal.

The chief agent cast one final glance at the temple and turned away.

A group of figures hurried through the darkness. Leading them was Manager Zhao, a trusted confidant of Wen Tiren. With a dozen or so subordinates, he was frantically loading crates of weaponry onto horse-drawn carriages.

"Hurry up!" Manager Zhao lowered his voice. "We must be out of here before dawn."

His subordinates accelerated their movements. Crates of armaments, ledger books, and encrypted letters were heaved onto the carriages. Everyone was so tense they hardly dared to breathe.

"Sir!" a subordinate ran over. "The men from the Eastern Depot are searching the southern district."

Manager Zhao’s expression shifted instantly. "How many are there?"

"At least several hundred. And..." The subordinate swallowed hard. "They seem to know our exact location."

"Damn it!" Manager Zhao gritted his teeth. "That monk must have said something."

He turned to the others. "Speed up! Load everything of importance onto the carts."

At that very moment, the sound of hoofbeats echoed from afar.

"No good!" someone shouted. "It's the Eastern Depot!"

Manager Zhao's face drained of color. "Quick! Burn whatever is left!"

The subordinates sprang into action, immediately setting fire to the documents and ledgers.

"Sir!" another subordinate rushed over. "The back gate..."

"What about it?"

"People are coming from there, too! We're surrounded!"

Manager Zhao glanced around, realizing that the flickering light of torches was hemming them in from all directions.

"It's over..." he murmured.

Suddenly, he spotted a concealed door in the corner of the courtyard.

"Follow me, all of you!" he yelled, leading his men in a dash toward the hidden entrance.

The secret door opened into a subterranean tunnel. Manager Zhao and his men scrambled inside in a desperate rush.

"After them!" echoed a shout from outside.

The tunnel was pitch black, save for the frantic sound of pounding footsteps and ragged breathing.

"Sir," gasped a subordinate, "where does this passage lead?"

"Out of the city," Manager Zhao replied. "There are horses waiting for us there."

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed from ahead.

"Not good!" Manager Zhao stopped dead in his tracks. "There are people in front of us, too!"

They were trapped in the middle of the tunnel.

"Sir, what do we do?" Panic gripped the subordinates.

Manager Zhao fished a small paper packet from inside his robe. "Save yourselves."

"Sir!" the subordinates cried out in shock.

"Stop wasting time!" Manager Zhao barked fiercely. "Go!"

He drew a flint striker and ignited a fuse.

A muffled rumble instantly reverberated through the tunnel.

The subordinates were forced to scatter in panic—some lunging forward, others retreating backward.

Yet from every direction came the sounds of combat and dying screams.

Manager Zhao stood motionless in place, pulling out a jade pendant.

Engraved upon the jade were the characters: "Who Under Heaven."

He gazed at it, offering a bitter, ironic smile. "My lord, I have failed you."

With that, he shoved the small paper packet into his mouth.

With a heavy thud, Manager Zhao collapsed to the ground.

The din of fighting within the tunnel gradually subsided.

The secret agents, holding high their torches, discovered Manager Zhao’s corpse.

"Search the place!" the leader of the agents ordered.

Before long, they recovered the jade pendant and a letter from Manager Zhao’s body.

The letter read: "The plan has changed. Evacuate immediately."

"Bring it back!" the agent commanded.

The other operatives began sweeping the tunnel, hunting down the remaining survivors.

Manager Zhao's men were either captured or took their own lives by poison.

Corpses lay strewn haphazardly across the length of the tunnel.

The agents set about collecting the evidence: account books, secret correspondence, weaponry—every single item was to be confiscated.

"Sir," an agent approached, holding something out. "Take a look at this."

He handed over a ledger.

The chief agent flipped it open, letting out a cold laugh. "Splendid, this is all the proof we need."

The ledger meticulously detailed the activities of Wen Tiren's faction.

"Keep searching!" the agent ordered.

The sweep of the tunnel continued until dawn.

Not a single one of those who attempted to flee managed to escape.

They were either taken prisoner or chose suicide.

Escorting the living captives and hauling the bodies of the dead, the agents marched back into the city in an imposing procession, leaving behind a scene of utter devastation that looked desolate in the morning light.

"Move quickly!" a Later Jin spy disguised as a merchant whispered to his companion. "The men from the Eastern Depot have already seized control of the city gates."

In the courtyard, a dozen or so spies were frantically packing their belongings. Some were burning documents, others were destroying hidden weapons, and a few were changing their attire and disguises.

"Old Seven, take a squad and leave by the south gate," the chief spy commanded. "Old Five, you lead your men through the north gate. Remember, the moment you are exposed, take the poison."

The spies split up to execute their orders. Each of them had concealed packets of fatal poison sewn into their garments to prevent capture.

"Eldest Brother," a young spy asked, "have all our people managed to pull back?"

"It's too late," the chief spy shook his head. "We save as many as we can."

The bonfire in the courtyard painted half the sky in a bloody red hue. Secret letters, ledgers, and blueprints were reduced to ash in the flames.

"Eldest Brother!" a spy bolted over, breathless. "Bad news! The city gates have all been sealed!"

The chief spy's expression turned grim. "Since when?"

"Just now. The Eastern Depot suddenly reinforced the guards."

"Damnation!" the chief spy gritted his teeth. "Looks like we've been exposed."

He whirled around to address the others. "Put on your merchant clothes and break through in separate directions!"

The spies swiftly changed their attire, transforming variously into merchants, farmers, and monks.

"Remember," the chief spy warned gravely, "if you are exposed, under no circumstances are you to fall into the hands of the Eastern Depot."

The others nodded silently, instinctively touching the hidden poison within their garments.

"Go!" the chief spy waved his hand.

The spies divided into several squads, slipping quietly out of the small courtyard. The night provided their best cover.

Little did they know, the shadows were already crawling with informants from the Eastern Depot.

"Stop them!" a sudden voice roared.

Torches flared to life from all sides, illuminating the pale faces of the spies.

"It's over..." the chief spy muttered under his breath.

"Surrender!" the Eastern Depot agents closed in, surrounding them. "You have nowhere left to run!"

The spies exchanged a single glance, simultaneously reaching for their poison.

"Wait!" the agents lunged forward.

But it was already too late. The spies collapsed one by one, blood streaming from their seven facial orifices.

"Search them!" the chief agent commanded.

Before long, a massive cache of documents and maps was recovered from the bodies of the spies.

"Take them back!" the order was given.

The corpses of the spies were hoisted up and carried away. They had chosen to honor their final loyalty.

The bonfire in the courtyard continued to burn, casting its glow over the bloody night.

Elsewhere, another squad of spies disguised as merchants was making its way toward the north gate.

"Keep calm," the leader murmured. "Walk slowly."

Blending seamlessly into a caravan, they pretended to be ordinary traders.

"Halt!" a voice suddenly barked.

A squad of agents intercepted the caravan.

"Search them one by one!" the agent leader commanded.

The spies' hearts leaped into their throats.

"What is your business here?" an agent demanded.

"This humble one sells cloth," a spy replied, his voice trembling slightly.

The agent eyed them suspiciously, looking them up and down.

At that exact moment, one of the spies violently shoved an agent aside and bolted.

"Catch him!" the agents yelled, giving chase.

The remaining spies tried to use the ensuing chaos to escape, but they were swiftly cornered.

"Surrender!" the agents shouted.

Without a moment's hesitation, the spies drew their poison and swallowed it.

"Another bunch of stubborn fools," the agents sneered, glaring at the bodies on the ground.

In the southern district, yet another squad of spies met the exact same fate.

The moment they reached the city gate, they were recognized by the agents.

"Run!" someone screamed.

Yet escape routes were already tightly sealed off on all sides.

The spies, in unbroken unison, drew their poison and collapsed right at the city threshold.

By break of day, the Eastern Depot had firmly secured control of the entire city.

Every single spy who attempted to flee was either captured or perished by their own hand of poison.

Not a single soul fell alive into the clutches of the Eastern Depot.

The agents retrieved a vast quantity of paperwork from the fallen spies—some comprising encrypted dispatches, others maps, and still others roster lists.