Volume One: The Lonely Beta Test Chapter Seven: The Notice in the Western Quarter

The night passed without incident.

By the time Lin Feng awoke the next day, the sun was already high in the sky. He hastily washed up, gathered paper and graphite, and set to work. Before long, he summoned Zhang Meng and Lin Qing, handed them a page of notes, and instructed them to purchase the items listed therein from the county town. Without waiting for their questions, he shut the door again and plunged back into his work.

The two men looked at the paper. The writing was so small it resembled grains of millet, and many words were incomplete or missing strokes, though the calligraphy itself was elegant. They couldn't tell what tool had been used to write it. Even so, the script posed little challenge; by guessing and inferring, they could decipher most of it.

Yet the contents of the list were baffling—a collection of unusual and curious items, some of which they'd never even heard of: a ruler, a carpenter’s square, an ink stick the size of a hairpin, dozens of sheets of paper as large as a table, a dozen or so pieces of lambskin, dried and softened, sheets of iron half the thickness of paper and half a table in size...

Staring at the list, both men felt their heads swell. Where on earth were they supposed to find such things? But they had already boasted that the task would be no trouble; to fail now would be a grave embarrassment.

After some discussion, they decided to consult Lin Zhen, whose knowledge was considered vast within the Lin family.

“Second Brother, are you there?” Zhang Meng shouted before they even entered the arched gate of Lin Zhen’s small courtyard, his booming voice so loud that Lin Qing winced.

At that moment, Lin Zhen had drawn his bow to its fullest, nocked an arrow, and was aiming intently at a target by the gate several yards away. Startled by Zhang Meng’s shout, his concentration broke, his fingers slipped, and the arrow flew wildly toward the gate.

The two men, just appearing at the entrance, dove to either side as the arrow whistled between them and buried itself in a tree outside.

Lin Zhen was aghast. Skilled archers are sharp-eyed, and he instantly recognized the two who had dodged. Fortunately, neither was harmed, but even so, Lin Zhen’s heart raced with fear.

“Qing, are you alright?” Zhang Meng stood, dusted himself off, and made his way to Lin Qing.

“I’m fine,” Lin Qing replied, standing up and pulling a stray blade of grass from his hair. “All your shouting nearly angered Second Uncle! Hahaha...”

“Any injuries, Meng? Qing?” Lin Zhen had rushed over, anxious.

“We’re fine, Second Brother!” Zhang Meng grinned.

“Uncle, when pirates used to shower us with arrows, it was never just one or two—we always managed to dodge. How could we be hit by one stray arrow from you?” Lin Qing joked.

“You two... Ah, never mind!” Lin Zhen handed his bow to Lin Qing. “What brings you here?”

Lin Qing took the bow and, with his other hand, produced the list Lin Feng had given them. “Uncle, have a look at this,” he said, passing it to Lin Zhen.

Lin Zhen examined the list closely, his expressions shifting—first confusion, then contemplation, then surprise—much to the amusement of the two watching.

“Who wrote this?” he finally asked.

“Who else but our Young Master Lin?” Zhang Meng laughed. “Second Brother, is your head spinning yet?”

“The calligraphy is strong, but why so careless with the strokes?” Lin Zhen frowned.

“Exactly! We struggled to decipher the meaning. But some of the items, we don’t recognize at all, nor do we know where to find them. That’s why we came to ask you,” Lin Qing explained earnestly.

“Ah, very well! Still, I’m amazed at how much Feng has grown after his ordeal. These items aren’t so rare—just not commonly used by our family,” Lin Zhen said, leading them to the stone table in the courtyard and explaining each item.

After about half a cup of tea’s time, Zhang Meng laughed heartily. “I get it now! Brother, it’s late in the day; let’s set off immediately.”

He rose, eager to depart.

“Wait a moment, Third Brother; I have instructions for you,” Lin Zhen called. “This trip to town is an important errand for Feng. Do not let anything else distract you!”

“I know, I know,” Zhang Meng replied impatiently.

Lin Zhen narrowed his eyes at him. “Especially you, Meng—no drinking!”

“Don’t worry, Brother. I swear, I won’t even glance at a tavern, even if I pass by one!” Zhang Meng thumped his chest for emphasis.

“Tavern? Come here,” Lin Zhen beckoned.

“What now, Brother? More orders for me?” Zhang Meng approached.

In a flash, Lin Zhen reached for Zhang Meng’s waist and snatched his purse before he could react.

“Second Brother, what are you doing?” Zhang Meng protested.

“Without this, your promise might be trustworthy. Qing, pay for whatever your Uncle Meng needs; come to me for reimbursement. But no wine—understand?” Lin Zhen handed some silver to Lin Qing.

“Yes, Uncle!” Lin Qing replied solemnly.

“What kind of brother does this?” Zhang Meng grumbled, shooting Lin Zhen a glare before heading off, his earlier cheer vanished.

The others laughed heartily.

After a few moments, Lin Zhen clapped Lin Qing’s shoulder. “Go quickly and return soon. Take a few extra hands with you. I’ll see what our Young Master is up to.”

Liekou County lay just south of the outlet of the Pei River. The Lin family’s town was northwest of Liekou, an important port in the county, and the road to the county seat was in good condition. Zhang Meng and his party reached the west gate in less than half an hour.

It was past noon, and the western sun beat down, the heat distorting the distant scenery. The characters “Liekou” gleamed brilliantly on the wall.

“Ha! Look at these crumbling walls, full of cracks and gaps. These worthless officials won’t fix them—soon our Liekou will truly live up to its name as a ‘cracked mouth’! But those two golden characters must be worth a pretty penny. Pull them down and you’d have enough for plenty of wine!” Zhang Meng joked as they neared the gate.

“Uncle, keep your voice down! That was the Wang family’s doing. Everyone knows the west side is their territory. We don’t need to bring trouble to the Lin family,” Lin Qing cautioned quietly.

“The Wang family? I’m not afraid of those wolves in sheep’s clothing,” Zhang Meng snorted and strode toward the gate.

His notorious temper frightened Lin Qing, who hurried to restrain him.

“Haha, you’re scared, aren’t you? Look, a crowd’s gathering over there—let’s see what’s happening,” Zhang Meng said, pointing to a group near the right side of the gate.

They squeezed through the crowd, Lin Qing taking the lead. He saw a government notice pasted on the wall.

“These villains grow ever more brazen—killing and robbing in broad daylight! If I ever catch them, I’ll skin them alive!” Lin Qing muttered through clenched teeth, his hatred of evil clear.

His words set the crowd murmuring.

“So many lives lost! I heard each victim had an ear cut off. How cruel!” an old woman said, shivering as she instinctively touched her withered earlobe.

“My youngest son works for the authorities. He told us about it last night—frightened the whole family!” an old man added. The crowd, hearing his son was a constable, pressed closer for more news.

“Those bandits aren’t human. According to my son’s superior, the dead were all household retainers—no sign of their masters. Perhaps the bandits took them hostage, planning to ransom them for money.”

“Old Li, keep your voice down—there could be spies among us,” the old woman whispered, tugging at his sleeve.

Startled, Old Li melted away into the crowd.

“What’s going on, Qing?” Zhang Meng had squeezed in.

“Bandits have struck again—the authorities posted a warning,” Lin Qing replied.

“Damn it! The world grows more lawless by the day!” Zhang Meng fumed, glanced at the notice, and said, “Those useless officials only post warnings instead of catching bandits—what good does that do?”

With that, he reached to rip down the notice, but Lin Qing stopped him just in time. The crowd joined in persuading him, and he reluctantly relented.

“Uncle, we can’t concern ourselves with the officials. But if we run into those bandits, we won’t let them off lightly!” Lin Qing said, leading Zhang Meng and their party into the city—unaware that someone was already watching them.

•••

After seeing Zhang Meng and Lin Qing off, Lin Zhen rested briefly in the courtyard, then went to find Lin Feng.

Upon entering, he saw a dozen sheets of paper scattered across the floor and his face darkened. Though Cai Hou Paper had been invented seventy years before, production remained limited and paper was still precious in the late Han era. Traditionally, one washed their hands before reading or writing, as a mark of respect for books and learning. To see Lin Feng wasting paper so wantonly angered him.

He bent to pick up the sheets, intending to scold Lin Feng, but then his eyes caught a drawing: two concentric circles labeled “Lelang,” and a small circle at the lower left labeled “Liekou.” A curved line stretched from upper right to lower left, growing wider, resembling a river connecting these two places. Below were dots marked Daifang and Nanxin. At the bottom, there were three small areas labeled Mahan, Byeonhan, and Jinhan. Both sides of the sheet were bordered with wavy lines, clearly representing water—the fine, twisting lines unmistakably the coastline.

A storm of awe surged in Lin Zhen’s heart, his hands trembling. Living on this land for nearly forty years, he could not mistake it: this was a detailed map of Lelang Commandery and its surroundings, more precise than any official map he knew. Lin Feng, a frequent seafarer, understood the importance of maps.

Lin Zhen could no longer contain his amazement and exclaimed, “My son is a true prodigy!”