A Pawn's Passage

Chapter 410: Sikong Cuo

Chapter 410: Sikong Cuo

Sikong Cuo stretched lazily and looked up at the large, bright moon.

The moonlight was lovely.

He recalled a Confucian Savant’s story about the moon reflecting on a thousand rivers, indicating that all those countless reflections were, in the end, the same moon.

Jinling Prefecture was bordered by two rivers and a lake, so who knew how many moons it held?

At that moment, a subordinate arrived to report that the goods had arrived.

Sikong Cuo acknowledged briefly and instructed his subordinate to light the lamps before striding outside.

This place was a secluded large courtyard, technically within the boundaries of the slum. However, unlike the rest of the slums, the roads here were broad enough to accommodate convoys of carriages.

Outside the courtyard was a convoy of about 20 carriages, stretching beyond view. Each was a two-horse, four-wheel carriage tightly covered with tarpaulins. The road here was mostly compacted dirt rather than the old city's stone-paved streets, so each carriage left tracks of varying depths, indicating the considerable weight of their cargo.

The convoy’s overseer jumped down from the leading carriage, carrying a windproof lamp. He pulled a document from his coat and double-checked the address. Satisfied, he breathed a sigh of relief.

This job of transporting goods from Songjiang Prefecture to Jinling Prefecture had been quite lucrative. The route was short, and the client was generous. The only caveat was the client's hinting that this shipment was somewhat dubious and should avoid inspections by the Daoist Shibo Hall and the Jiangnan Daoist Mansion.

Having been in this line of work for years, he had seen countless cases like this, understood the risks, and paid them no mind. In these peaceful times, highway robbers were rare, leaving the government and Daoist inspections as the biggest threats. Now that they had arrived safely, he had nothing to worry about.

By regulation, large shipments like this were supposed to be thoroughly inspected upon entering the city, to check for smuggling dangerous goods. However, those in this trade often had close ties with the officials at the city gates.

With Jinling Prefecture’s 12 gates, a few strings could always be pulled with enough Taiping coins to ensure one gate allowed the goods through, bypassing inspection.

After entering the city, the warehouses conducted another round of checks. As a result, the slums gradually became a hub for transshipment and storage. Such secluded depots within this area were commonplace.

Next came the handover of goods. Once the money and goods were exchanged, the deal would be done.

After collecting the Taiping coins, the overseer planned to enjoy a night of indulgence at the nearby brothels and then spend the next few days relaxing, drinking some fine wine, and enjoying a life of simple pleasures.

As the overseer was musing, he spotted Sikong Cuo and identified him as the one in charge. He immediately approached, offering a Western-style rolled cigarette. As Sikong Cuo half-heartedly took it, the overseer promptly lit a match and prepared to light the cigarette for him.

Sikong Cuo held the lit cigarette but did not bring it to his lips. Instead, he asked, “Did those Daoist inspectors give you any trouble when entering the city?”

Sikong Cuo finished his cigarette and casually opened one of the crates, which contained several sealed large glass jars with a metal base. He took one out. It was about one meter tall and half a meter in diameter, with 5-centimeter-thick glass. Each jar contained a suspension liquid and something resembling ginseng, or possibly, a type of embryo.

A faint smile appeared on Sikong Cuo’s face. “Excellent.”

The overseer also saw it and could not help his curiosity. “What is this?”

Sikong Cuo glanced at him, as if looking at a dead man. “This is a gift.”

“Whose gift?” The overseer instinctively asked.

Sikong Cuo smirked. “It’s a gift from the gods.”

The overseer forced a dry laugh, unsure how to respond.

Sikong Cuo suddenly chuckled. “Actually, it’s premium ginseng medicinal wine. This packaging helps preserve its potency when transported from Liaodong to Jinling. Without paying taxes, it can sell for tens of thousands of Taiping coins. Isn’t that a gift from the gods?”

“Oh, so it’s ginseng!” The overseer bobbed his head in understanding.

Sikong Cuo had no intention of explaining further. He held the so-called “gift” and waited for the unloading to be completed.

About two hours later, all the carriages had been unloaded, and the crates filled nearly half the courtyard. The overseer rubbed his hands together and asked, “Should we settle the final payment?”

Sikong Cuo hummed lightly, waved over a subordinate, and instructed, “Take care of it.”

The subordinate gave a brief nod and turned to the overseer with a fierce gaze.

At that moment, the overseer sensed something was wrong and turned to flee, but it was already too late.

Sikong Cuo’s subordinate grabbed the overseer by the neck and lifted him off the ground using just one arm.

Then, exerting a slight force in his grasp, he snapped the overseer’s neck.

Sikong Cuo continued to hold the cylindrical glass jar, engrossed in admiring the “gift” inside, oblivious to the scene before him.

In the flickering lamplight, the other carriage drivers were also silently slaughtered, leaving no survivors.