Baizhifang was located in the southwestern corner of the inner city, named for the many paper-making workshops in the area. The Gunpowder Bureau of the Ministry of War was also based there—responsible for manufacturing and storing gunpowder for the military’s firearms and ammunition.
Su Yan, seeing the sheer force of the blast, heard more subsequent explosions—likely from other stores of ignited gunpowder. He didn’t yet know how extensive the damage was or how far the blast radius reached. He could only stare anxiously southwestward.
After a while, when the rumbles faded and the ground stopped shaking, he asked Shen Qi, “What do we do?”
Shen Qi replied, “That explosion must’ve been heard for miles. The court will be alerted. The imperial government will deploy troops for firefighting and rescue, assign investigators, and later clean up the site and relocate the victims. This will involve the Ministries of War, Works, and Revenue. It’s a major incident.”
Hearing that their disaster response was roughly similar to modern standards, Su Yan relaxed a little. Though he wasn’t sure how efficient they’d be, at least someone would take responsibility. He fell into thoughtful silence.
Commander Wang quickly excused himself. “The incident happened in my jurisdiction. I must go at once to inspect the scene. Your Highness, Lords, forgive my abrupt departure.”
Yu Wang waved him off.
Su Yan grew dizzier the more he thought about it, eventually having to lean on the rockery to vomit.
Shen Qi had secretly checked his own injuries earlier. Every breath made his chest ache sharply. He felt around—no broken ribs, but probably a fracture. It could heal on its own, but it would be painful and sap his strength for some time. Not wanting to worry Su Yan, he kept quiet.
Yu Wang, on the other hand, though bloodied, had only surface wounds. Once the bleeding stopped, he was in better shape than the others. He said to Su Yan, “Your carriage is still at the gate. Come, I’ll take you to Master Yu for treatment.”
Su Yan had already fainted and vomited. He wiped away the involuntary tears from the pain and said hoarsely, “I’m fine. Just a mild concussion. A few days of rest and I’ll be good… Wangye should treat your wounds quickly, or they might get infected.”
Shen Qi, hiding his own pain, held Su Yan up and said to Yu Wang, “This humble official will personally escort Lord Su home. No need to trouble Your Highness.”
Yu Wang, seeing through the act but saying nothing, sneered, “A clay Bodhisattva thinks he can carry someone across the river?”
Neither of them would give way, so both ended up cramming into the carriage with Su Yan.
Su Xiaobei had been anxiously waiting by the carriage. Seeing the three of them awkwardly squeeze into the cabin together, his face was filled with bewilderment.
If it were Su Xiaojing, he would have already started chattering noisily. Su Xiaobei had one thing over Su Xiaojing—he was very good at reading the room and understanding the situation. Knowing it wasn’t the time to speak unnecessarily, he only asked, “Sir, are we returning home, or going elsewhere?”
Shen Qi said, “Back to the residence.”
Yu Wang said, “To the medical hut.”
Su Yan: “…To the Meridian Gate.”
Shen Qi and Yu Wang: “What are you going to the Meridian Gate for?”
Su Yan: “It’s the fourth watch of the night. If we go now, we’ll just make it in time for the palace gates to open. I want to enter the palace and have an audience with His Majesty.”
“You just take a break!” Shen Qi and Yu Wang—one holding his shoulder, the other lifting his legs—pushed him down onto the long bench.
Su Yan did lie down, but once the carriage wheels started moving, the jolting made his head spin again, and he groaned, “I still feel like throwing up…”
He had already vomited up even the bile earlier, so there was nothing left to bring up. Yu Wang quickly moved over, letting Su Yan rest the back of his head on his thigh. Shen Qi, hindered by the pain in his ribs, was a step too slow, and his eyes flashed coldly at the sight, but out of concern for Su Yan’s condition, he didn’t act out.
Su Yan closed his eyes, enduring the dizziness, mumbling to distract himself: “I need to install a speed boost and shock absorption system on the carriage… rolling bearings, rubber tires… and springs… When will the Heavenly Works Academy be ready to open…”
Yu Wang was still trying to make sense of the strange terms in his words when Su Yan suddenly brought up the institute, prompting him to respond, “April. No—March. If we push the schedule, March should be possible.”
Su Yan’s voice was weak: “March would be best, just in time before I leave the capital for Shaanxi. I have some ideas and suggestions…”
“You’re going to Shaanxi again?” The other two men in the carriage simultaneously expressed their discontent. “There are so many officials in court—can’t any of them take over?”
“They can,” Su Yan said, “I’ve already laid the framework, and with Governor Wei’s help, the details are being gradually fleshed out. But it’s best that I go once more to reinforce everything, to prevent things from veering off track when the Censor in charge of horse administration takes over later. I promised the Emperor I’d leave after the longevity festival, in March.”
Shen Qi’s expression turned dark, and Yu Wang’s looked even worse.
One resented the Emperor for using personal matters under official pretense, and felt sorry for Su Yan’s constant toiling between two places.
The other also felt sorry for Su Yan’s mental and physical strain—and likewise resented the Emperor for his manipulation, even dragging the longevity festival into it. Who knew what kind of tribute he’d make Su Yan offer for the occasion?
Look at him—dizzy like this, and still thinking about entering the palace to report! Yu Wang glanced at Shen Qi: Didn’t I tell you? When the snipe and clam fight, it’s the fisherman who wins.
Shen Qi said nothing, his expression dark.
Yu Wang said, “The Heavenly Works Academy is newly established and has countless tasks ahead. As its founder and acting head, how can you just walk away? It’s better for you to stay in the capital. If it’s hard for you to say, I’ll speak to the Emperor myself.”
It was the first time Shen Qi truly agreed with something Yu Wang said—even if it was just this one thing.
Su Yan said, “I can’t be the director—at most, an honorary one. I’ve got plenty of ideas, but my technical skill is lacking—broad but not deep, just good at drawing big plans. You, as a Prince overseeing things, can ensure the Court of Diplomatic Rites’ old pedants don’t attack or devour it, turning it into another Imperial Academy.
“Also, we need a widely respected master to serve as director, to win over the public. Preferably someone who came through the imperial exam system, so the civil officials can’t complain, and who also has outstanding achievements in natural philosophy… It’s hard.”
Yu Wang said, “I’ve already recruited some talents in natural philosophy for my manor. When the time comes, see if any of them are suitable.”
“Good. I remember a few names, but I don’t know… parallel… butterfly…” As Su Yan mumbled, his voice faded. It seemed the brain injury had caught up with him, and he drifted into unconsciousness.
The other two in the carriage instinctively held their breath, afraid of disturbing him, and told Su Xiaobei to slow down the carriage.
Less than half an hour later, Su Yan was jolted awake by a bump, shouting: “—Dust explosion!”
“What?”
“Did you have a nightmare?”
Supported by the other two, Su Yan sat up slowly, took a deep breath, and said, “The explosion in the underground hall—it wasn’t gunpowder. Because if gunpowder was buried there, without a timed device, the person couldn’t have detonated it at the exact moment we entered—unless they left a suicide operative behind as the trigger.”
“At the time, besides us, there was no one else in the hall. I can vouch for that,” said Yu Wang. “That’s why I felt it was safe to take you in.”
Shen Qi also nodded.
Su Yan knew that with a high enough level of inner cultivation, one’s hearing and vision could surpass the average person’s, even to the point of sensing intangible things like “sword intent” or “killing intent.” People like Ah Zhui were basically human detectors—anyway, it was a whole different realm, not something a frail scholar like him could relate to.
Since both Yu Wang and Shen Qi said there was no one else around, then there likely wasn’t.
Ah Zhui, Fuyin, and the person Fuyin was going to meet had all left long ago. And the group had wasted time digging through the ruins to find the entrance, so they had missed the encounter.
But before leaving, that mastermind had left the pursuers a big “gift.”
The thought struck Su Yan, and he began searching through his sleeves and lapels. Not finding anything, he started loosening his robe.
“What are you doing? Put your clothes back on!” Shen Qi immediately grabbed his hand, frowning.
Su Yan ignored him and continued fiddling with his belt and robe.
“…If you really want to do something, at least wait until we’re home.” Shen Qi’s eyes were red at the corners, either from holding back or from internal heat. “This isn’t the time or the place.”
Yu Wang came to his senses and gave Shen Qi a sideways glance, as if ready to throw him out of the carriage at any moment. “Also, the number of people isn’t right.”
Su Yan cursed, “Is that all your brains are filled with?!”
He scr*ped some white powder from the folds of Shen Qi’s robe and held it out with a finger: “Identify this.”
Shen Qi sniffed, then licked the tip of Su Yan’s finger. “…Flour.”
Yu Wang’s fist immediately flew toward Shen Qi’s face, aiming to smash his nose. Shen Qi dodged sideways, which pulled on his fractured ribs, making him grunt in pain.
Su Yan, thinking he’d been hit, slapped Yu Wang’s arm: “What the h*ll’s wrong with you? Attacking people out of nowhere—don’t you believe in reason?!”
Yu Wang, afraid his inner energy would hurt Su Yan through rebound, quickly withdrew his force.
The slap on the arm didn’t hurt at all, but Yu Wang was stifled and frustrated. His tone was resentful, tinged with a bit of grievance: “He can take liberties, but I can’t give him a little lesson?”
“He’s a dog,” Su Yan wasn’t in the mood for jealous squabbling, casually threw the line out, then asked, “You check yourself too—see if there’s powder on you. Is it flour?”
Yu Wang suddenly gave a short laugh. “I’m like a dog too.” Then he grabbed Su Yan’s hand and licked the other finger dusted with powder, making an overtly suggestive sucking sound.
Numb, tingling, itchy—it was like an electric current shooting from his fingertip straight to his lower belly. Su Yan’s face flushed red, eyes narrowed, brows furrowed.
Before Su Yan could erupt in fury and shame, Yu Wang let go and sat back upright, answering properly, “It really is flour.”
Shen Qi drew his blade and stood. The cramped space made it hard to strike without risk, so he smacked the sheath straight at Yu Wang. Yu Wang blocked with one hand and twisted his elbow to jab at Shen Qi’s waist.
The carriage hit another bump. Outside, Su Xiaobei shouted deliberately, “My lord! My lord, are you alright? Did the jolt hurt you?”
Su Yan took a deep breath, told himself to stay calm—these two b*stards weren’t worth the anger—and growled, “Sit down! If you keep fighting, get off my carriage!”
He adjusted his robe and fastened his belt. Seeing the two finally settle down, he exhaled a long breath. “I’m dizzy. Where was I just now?”
Shen Qi: “Flour.”
Yu Wang: “Dust… explosion.”
“Right. That person triggered a mechanism in the main hall before leaving. As soon as the hidden passage door to Linhua Pavilion was pushed open from outside, the ceiling would dump a huge amount of flour. In a semi-enclosed space, it would meet the soldiers’ open flames and trigger a dust explosion.”
Dust explosions were immensely powerful. In his past life, he’d seen sugar dust explode in a factory—four floors turned into rubble in seconds, steel and concrete torn to shreds.
It might not rival the explosive force of TNT, but compared to the black powder of this era, it was just as deadly.
“Also, after the first dust explosion, the pressure wave kicks up more dust from the ground, triggering a second explosion. That one would be even stronger, with denser particles.”
Su Yan remembered reading about it online in his previous life: the explosion center creates a momentary vacuum, causing air to rush in, feeding the fire with oxygen. The lifted dust forms clouds that explode one after another, until the concentration drops.
Yu Wang nodded. “The court heavily regulates gunpowder and firearms. Civilians can only make fireworks—large-scale powder production is banned. Even if they manage it, the purity’s low. I also wonder—this Hidden Sword Sect and the Seven Kill Camp—where did they get so much high-quality powder?”
Shen Qi asked, “The gunpowder depot explosion at Baizhifang—could that have been a dust explosion too?”
Su Yan shook his head. “I can’t say for sure. But a gunpowder depot is dangerous by nature. It’d be heavily guarded. For someone to sneak in and ignite the stockpile… there may have been an inside man.”
Shen Qi said, “I heard the border’s been restless. Great Ming might go to war with the Oirats or Tatars. Right now, with the War Ministry losing its stockpile and no supplies to prepare, plus manpower drained by disaster relief… no matter how you look at it, the scheme reeks of malice.”
The Northern Surveillance Bureau specialized in espionage and had swift intel. Su Yan didn’t ask how Shen Qi knew about military movements—he simply nodded in agreement.
“Two birds with one stone… maybe more than two.”
The carriage stopped then. Su Xiaobei called out, “My lord, we’ve arrived.” He hopped down and fetched the footstool.
Su Yan stood up, but felt his ears ringing, vision going dark. Someone caught him.
He murmured, “This concussion is serious. I think I’ve got short-term memory loss… I actually can’t remember where I went tonight, or why I went.”
Shen Qi and Yu Wang exchanged glances, each seeing worry in the other’s eyes.
Shen Qi helped him sit back down, speaking gently, “Tonight, you went to Linhua Pavilion with Ruan Hongjiao. I found out and followed out of concern.”
Yu Wang added, “I tailed Yin Fu to Linhua Pavilion, ran into you two—plus Jinghong Zhui disguised as ‘Miss Hong.’”
Shen Qi cursed under his breath. He’d known that “Miss Hong” felt too flashy—turns out it was that d*mn outlaw in drag, wearing gaudy pearl ornaments, even trying to make Qinghe help him primp. Rat b*stard. He’d take care of him eventually.
Su Yan recalled most of it now. “Right, Ah Zhui went undercover because of Fuyin. He found the blood lotus mark by the alley wall, and Fuyin would always show up at Linhua Pavilion on nights it appeared. So tonight—”
The words cut off. He paused for a moment, then suddenly punched the wall of the carriage—Shen Qi and Yu Wang both intercepted his fist with their palms.
Su Yan gritted his teeth. “—What a brilliant move!”
“What is it?”
“You remembered something?”
The more Su Yan thought about it, the more frustrated he became. He felt he shouldn’t have made such a mistake. “Tonight, you, me, him, Ah Zhui, Fuyin… we were all manipulated. All our attention was pinned on Linhua Pavilion. Even the emperor wasn’t exempt. The South District patrol showed up exactly to catch prostitutes—wasn’t that under high-level orders? That unintentionally thinned out Baizhifang’s night patrol forces.”
“Make a show of fixing the walkway, while secretly moving through the warehouse.”
Su Yan sighed. “Last time at Kunning Palace, he played ‘Violence,’ I played ‘Filial Piety,’ and I beat him. This time I got careless and lost a round. He used Linhua Pavilion as a decoy and blew up the powder depot. I… I’m really frustrated…”
Shen Qi tried to comfort him. “It’s a match. Wins and losses are part of the game. He laid the trap skillfully, each step linked. We slipped for a moment—next we break the trap and strike back. No need to dwell.”
Yu Wang added, “Even in a hundred meticulous moves, there’s always one mistake. No one’s a god—how can you foresee everything?”
Su Yan remained dejected. Holding onto the doorframe, he stumbled out of the carriage, mumbling: “Before the campaign’s won—the hero perishes… always making—heroes—weep their sleeves full…”
Yu Wang glanced at Shen Qi and whispered, “This hit Qinghe pretty hard. What do we do?”
Shen Qi frowned and pondered, “He met a real opponent, lost a round, got injured… tonight won’t be easy for him…”
“Someone has to stay with him and talk things through.”
Shen Qi grew alert. “This official will do his best. No need for Wangye to trouble yourself.”
Yu Wang sneered, “You’ll be stopped by the imperial guards within three steps of the door, believe it or not? Only I can go in—none of them would dare block me.”
As the two exchanged barbs, Su Xiaobei finished loading the step stool back onto the carriage and muttered, “You’re both overthinking it.”
“What do you mean?” Yu Wang and Shen Qi turned to glare at him.
Suddenly, Su Yan’s voice came from inside the house: “Xiaojing, is breakfast ready yet? I’m starving! No spring pancakes, blood sausage, or spicy soup today—I just puked, need something gentle. Make me some vegetable and egg congee.”
After a pause, he added, “For lunch, roast duck and wolfberry lamb stew. Gotta replenish after I heal my gut.”
Shen Qi and Yu Wang: “……”
Su Xiaobei: “Told you both you were overthinking. The lord’s fine—he’s eating, sleeping, and still ready to fight.”
