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墨書 Inktalez
The two of them worked in the courtyard until the lanterns were lit. A frame made of bamboo poles was covered with oilcloth, and a fire channel was dug out to connect to the stove. Cui Xiaoman constructed a clever return wall using broken tiles, allowing the hot air to circulate three times inside before escaping. Lin Dahe placed the dampest clay pieces in the innermost layer, with the rest arranged outward, resembling a giant sunflower.
"Let's test the fire," Cui Xiaoman said as she stuffed some pine branches into the fire channel.
The orange flames surged through the tunnel into the drying chamber, and waves of heat mixed with moisture erupted from the vents at the top. In less than a quarter of an hour, the outermost clay pieces began to turn white. Just as Lin Dahe was about to cheer, he suddenly heard a strange "crackling" sound from inside the drying chamber—like wet firewood exploding in the flames.
"Did you add pine branches?" he turned to ask Cui Xiaoman.
Her pupils suddenly contracted. "No! I only used dry mugwort!"
Before she finished speaking, a loud "boom" erupted from the drying chamber, sending a plume of black smoke billowing out. The oilcloth shrank rapidly under the high temperature, revealing the twisted bamboo frame inside. Lin Dahe grabbed a water bucket and rushed over but saw several green pine branches that should not have been there—clearly freshly cut, their needles still glistening!
"Someone's sabotaging us!" Cui Xiaoman shouted as she lifted a beam to push aside the collapsed oilcloth. A wave of heat hit them as they saw that more than half of the twelve intricately crafted layered clay pieces had shattered. The few that survived were covered in cracks, resembling mocking ghostly faces.
Lin Dahe's hand froze while scooping water. In that moment, he noticed two fresh wheel tracks in the muddy ground by the well—there shouldn't have been any carts coming in or out on such a rainy day! The tracks were deep, clearly made by a heavily loaded cart, with a wheelbase wider than an ordinary horse-drawn carriage by over three inches.
"Keep an eye on the fire; I'll be right back," he said as he grabbed his hat and dashed into the rain.
Following the tracks wasn't difficult. They led out of the village and turned west toward the abandoned brick kiln owned by the Zhou family. This place had been deserted for years, but tonight it felt strange—rainwater had washed away debris at the kiln entrance, and disordered footprints extended into its dark depths.
Just as Lin Dahe hesitated about whether to go inside, a hand like an iron claw landed on his shoulder. The one-armed veteran appeared silently behind him, holding an unsheathed short knife in his remaining left hand.
"Look," the veteran said, pointing at the ground near the kiln entrance with his knife tip.
On the mud washed by rainwater lay several shiny fragments. Lin Dahe picked one up and examined it closely under a flash of lightning—it was mica shards, identical to those used in imitation pottery from town!
"I'll guard this spot," said the veteran coldly, "you go find Seventh Uncle for a road pass."
"What road pass?"
"A road pass for reporting to authorities." The veteran suddenly pulled open his coat to reveal a copper badge at his waist—the badge of the Jinyiwei (Embroidered Uniform Guard) North Town Pacification Office gleamed with a bluish light under the lightning. "What we need to seal off tonight is military-grade saltpeter."
Lin Dahe's blood ran cold instantly. Just as he turned to run, a woman's sharp laughter echoed from inside the kiln. Aunt Ma emerged holding an oil lamp, her silver hairpin askew, followed by two strong men pushing a cart. What was piled on it wasn't bricks or tiles but several sealed wooden barrels!
"Move quickly!" Aunt Ma urged. "Get it to the ferry before midnight..."
Lightning split through the night sky. In that instant, Lin Dahe saw the wax seal on one of the barrels—it bore a dragon pattern encircling four characters: "Approved by Ministry of War," identical to those saltpeter bags confiscated from his home that day!
The one-armed veteran's knife slid out silently. Just as he was about to charge forward, hurried hoofbeats suddenly echoed from the direction of the village entrance. A pale lantern pierced through the rain curtain, followed by six or seven Yard Officers clad in raincoats. Leading them was none other than that silk-clad man from Drunken Immortal Tower earlier that day; now he rode in official attire with jade pendants clinking at his waist.
"Arresting those who collude with Japanese pirates!"
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