The summons came at sunrise.
Lin Han had been awake long before the guards opened the workers' quarters.
He had spent most of the night considering what Qiao Ren might know.
The senior clerk had asked whether he had spoken to Mei Ling.
That alone was not an accusation.
Merchants frequently spoke with laborers. They asked for directions, complained about damaged goods, and offered small payments for assistance that the overseers sometimes permitted and sometimes punished.
But Mei Ling had asked about grain transport.
And Qiao Ren had supervised the preparation of the replacement summary.
Lin Han could not afford to believe the connection was accidental.
He washed his face with cold water, straightened his worn robe, and followed the attendant toward the administrative courtyard.
The morning air smelled of damp timber and cooking fires.
Beyond the eastern wall, carts were already moving along the road.
He counted the sound of their wheels.
Two carts.
Perhaps three.
He stopped himself.
Even now, he was counting.
Qiao Ren received him in a narrow office adjoining the records courtyard.
There were two tables, several wooden document cases, and a shelf filled with bundles of writing slips.
A single guard stood beside the entrance.
Qiao sat behind the larger table.
He did not invite Lin Han to speak.
Instead, he continued reading a document until the attendant announced his arrival.
"Lin Han, sir."
Qiao looked up.
"Leave us."
The attendant withdrew.
The guard remained.
Lin Han knelt.
"Clerk Qiao."
"You know who I am?"
"Yes, sir."
"Interesting."
Qiao placed the document aside.
"I understand you have been speaking with visitors."
Lin Han lowered his eyes.
"Sometimes, sir."
"A merchant household from the south."
"Yes."
"A woman traveling with them."
"Yes."
"What did she want?"
Lin Han had prepared several answers.
He chose the simplest.
"She asked about delivery procedures."
"Which procedures?"
"Receiving acknowledgments, sir."
"Why would she ask a penal laborer?"
"I was helping unload their cloth."
Qiao regarded him.
"Did she ask about grain?"
Lin Han felt his pulse quicken.
"She asked whether different goods were recorded by different offices."
"And what did you tell her?"
"That they were."
"Nothing more?"
"She asked about transport arrangements."
"Did you answer?"
"Only in general terms."
Qiao leaned back.
"You have an unusual understanding of administrative work."
"I have worked in the compound for several years."
"Carrying baskets."
"Yes, sir."
"Yet you discuss records with merchants and remember quantities from dispatch tallies."
Lin Han kept his head lowered.
Qiao continued.
"Inspector Xu mentioned you."
That was worse than Lin Han had expected.
"What did he say, sir?"
"That you were observant."
Lin Han said nothing.
"He also said you remembered a tally concerning East Ridge."
"Yes, sir."
"Six hundred shi."
"That is what I remember."
Qiao studied him.
"Do you know how many consignments were included in the special dispatch?"
"No, sir."
"Then why did you consider the tally important?"
Lin Han hesitated.
He could not claim that it was unimportant.
The inspector had already questioned him about it.
"I did not know whether it represented the entire dispatch."
"And now?"
"I still do not know."
Qiao smiled faintly.
"An honest answer."
Lin Han did not return the smile.
The senior clerk opened a document case.
He withdrew a narrow slip and placed it on the table.
"Tell me what you see."
Lin Han looked at the writing.
It was a short transport summary.
The destination was East Ridge Station.
The quantity was nine hundred shi.
He recognized the figures immediately.
But the document did not appear to be the original tally he had seen.
"This records a dispatch of nine hundred shi to East Ridge," he said.
"Correct."
"Yes, sir."
"Does that contradict your memory?"
Lin Han considered the question.
"No, sir."
Qiao's expression changed slightly.
"Explain."
"A tally for six hundred shi could represent part of a larger dispatch."
"Exactly."
Qiao tapped the slip.
"Then perhaps you understand why a clerk might prepare a consolidated summary."
"Yes, sir."
"And perhaps you understand why careless speculation can harm innocent officials."
Lin Han lowered his head.
"Yes, sir."
For a moment, the office was silent.
Then Qiao asked, "Did the merchant woman mention Luo Jian?"
Lin Han felt the danger immediately.
He had expected questions about Mei Ling.
He had not expected Qiao to know which name she had discussed.
"She mentioned a transport intermediary," he answered.
"His name?"
"Luo Jian."
"What did she say?"
"That he arranged commercial carts."
"Anything else?"
"She asked whether transport intermediaries could change delivery arrangements."
Qiao watched him carefully.
"And what did you tell her?"
"That I did not know the authority required."
The answer was incomplete.
But not false.
Qiao folded his hands.
"Listen carefully, Lin Han. Merchants are not permitted to interfere with official transport inquiries. Nor are laborers permitted to assist them in examining government business."
"Yes, sir."
"If the woman returns, you will report any questions concerning state records."
Lin Han bowed.
"Yes, sir."
"And you will not discuss the East Ridge dispatch with her."
"Yes, sir."
Qiao studied him for another moment.
Then he dismissed him.
Lin Han rose.
He had reached the doorway when the senior clerk spoke again.
"One more thing."
Lin Han stopped.
"Yes, sir?"
"Curiosity is not always a virtue."
Lin Han lowered his head.
"I understand."
Qiao smiled.
"I hope you do."
Outside, the courtyard was crowded with workers preparing the day's dispatches.
Lin Han walked slowly toward the western storage yard.
He had survived the questioning.
Again.
But he had learned something important.
Qiao Ren knew about Luo Jian.
Perhaps that was ordinary.
A senior clerk responsible for transport records would naturally recognize the names of commercial intermediaries.
Yet Qiao had mentioned him without prompting.
He had also produced a summary showing nine hundred shi delivered to East Ridge.
That was the document Chen Yu had copied.
Or at least a version of it.
Lin Han could not prove that the summary was false.
He could not prove that Qiao had ordered an alteration.
But he was beginning to understand how the discrepancy might have been concealed.
A genuine tally for six hundred shi.
A larger dispatch recorded as nine hundred.
A replacement summary naming East Ridge as the destination for the entire quantity.
If the remaining three hundred shi had been redirected, the summary would erase the distinction between the consignments.
The inventory would still balance.
The dispatch total would still be correct.
Only the destination would be wrong.
And unless someone compared the original movement records with the receiving accounts, the deception might remain invisible.
Lin Han stopped beside a stack of empty containers.
He had been looking for missing grain.
Perhaps he should have been looking for a missing journey.
The opportunity came that afternoon.
A transport detail arrived from the eastern road with three damaged carts and several exhausted animals.
The soldiers accompanying them were covered in dust.
One cart had lost part of its side rail.
Another had a cracked wheel.
The third carried nothing but empty sacks and broken wooden fittings.
Tian Bo supervised the inspection.
Lin Han was assigned to help unload the damaged equipment.
As he approached, he heard the sergeant arguing with a driver.
"You were supposed to return yesterday."
"The eastern crossing was blocked."
"By what?"
"A broken cart."
"One cart delayed three?"
"It blocked the narrow section."
Tian Bo frowned.
"Then why didn't you use the southern track?"
"The animals were exhausted."
"From what?"
The driver hesitated.
"From the journey."
Tian Bo stared at him.
"That is not an answer."
Lin Han continued working.
He had no reason to involve himself.
But the mention of the southern track caught his attention.
It was the route leading toward the holding place Mei Ling had identified.
He listened carefully.
The driver explained that the convoy had encountered difficulties near a narrow crossing east of Heiyang.
One cart had broken an axle.
The others had waited while the load was transferred.
Tian Bo asked how long the repairs had taken.
The driver said half a day.
The sergeant looked skeptical.
"Half a day for an axle?"
"The wheel was damaged too."
"Then why did you return with three carts?"
The driver looked confused.
"Because three were assigned."
Tian Bo shook his head.
"Show me the movement tally."
The driver produced a wooden slip.
The sergeant examined it.
Then he ordered the carts moved to the repair yard.
Lin Han followed with the damaged fittings.
As he worked, he studied the vehicles.
The first cart had deep grooves along its side rails.
The second had recently replaced bindings.
The third showed older wear beneath a layer of fresh dust.
He could not determine where they had traveled.
But he noticed something unusual.
The third cart's wheel rims were coated with a different kind of mud.
Not the pale dust of the eastern road.
A darker, heavier soil.
The kind that collected near the southern irrigation channels.
It might mean nothing.
The cart could have traveled through several places.
But Lin Han remembered Mei Ling's holding site.
South of the usual route.
Near a road where loads could be transferred between carriers.
He crouched beside the wheel.
"Looking for something?"
Lin Han turned.
Tian Bo stood behind him.
"No, Sergeant."
"Then why are you examining the wheel?"
"The binding is loose."
Tian Bo looked down.
It was.
He crouched beside the cart.
"You're right."
Lin Han remained silent.
The sergeant examined the wheel.
Then he looked toward the driver.
"Who repaired this?"
The driver hesitated.
"A wheelwright along the road."
"Where?"
"Near the southern crossing."
Tian Bo's expression hardened.
"I thought you came by the eastern road."
"We did."
"Then why were you at the southern crossing?"
The driver swallowed.
"We took a different track after the axle broke."
"Why?"
"To find repairs."
Tian Bo stood.
"Who ordered the change?"
The driver looked toward the other transport workers.
"No one, Sergeant. We decided."
The sergeant stared at him.
"Three carts changed route without authorization?"
The driver lowered his head.
"We thought it would save time."
Tian Bo said nothing.
Then he ordered the man to remain in the yard until the movement records could be checked.
Lin Han continued unloading.
His thoughts moved quickly.
The driver had changed his explanation.
First, the eastern crossing had delayed the convoy.
Then the carts had taken the southern track.
Perhaps both statements were true.
Perhaps the driver had merely explained himself badly.
But the route mattered.
A cart could not travel along the eastern road and the southern crossing at the same time.
If the movement tally recorded only one route, the physical evidence might reveal another.
Lin Han remembered Tian Bo's words.
The accounts told a man what should move.
The road told him what could.
Later that afternoon, Lin Han found an opportunity to examine the damaged cart more closely.
He had been ordered to collect broken fittings from the repair yard.
The carts stood beneath a temporary shelter.
No guards watched them directly.
Lin Han approached the third cart.
He examined the wheel.
The dark mud had begun to dry.
He scraped a small amount from the rim with his fingernail.
It contained fine grit and fragments of reeds.
He had seen similar soil near the southern irrigation channels.
But the resemblance was not proof.
He looked beneath the cart.
One of the wooden supports had been replaced.
The new timber was darker than the surrounding frame.
A small mark had been cut into its underside.
Three short lines.
Lin Han frowned.
He had seen marks like that before.
Transport workers sometimes used simple notches to identify repaired parts or distinguish equipment.
The marks could mean almost anything.
He stepped back.
The cart itself offered no clear answer.
Then he noticed the empty sacks.
They had been piled beside the repair shed.
Most were ordinary transport sacks, worn and patched.
One bore a faded ink mark.
Lin Han crouched beside it.
The characters were incomplete.
He could make out part of a storage designation.
Not enough to identify the original granary.
He turned the sack carefully.
There was another mark near the seam.
A small symbol used by a commercial carrier.
He had seen similar marks on hired carts.
He could not identify the owner.
But it suggested that the sack had passed through commercial hands.
Again, the evidence was incomplete.
Again, he had found a possibility rather than proof.
He returned the sack to the pile.
Then he heard footsteps.
"Lin Han."
He turned.
Tian Bo stood at the entrance.
The sergeant looked at the sacks.
Then at him.
"Explain."
Lin Han lowered his head.
"I was collecting damaged fittings."
"From the sacks?"
"No, Sergeant."
"Then why were you touching them?"
Lin Han hesitated.
The safest answer was to claim he had been checking for damage.
But Tian Bo had already caught him examining something unrelated to his assignment.
A poor lie would make matters worse.
"I noticed a carrier's mark."
The sergeant's expression changed.
"What mark?"
Lin Han pointed.
Tian Bo examined the sack.
Then he looked at Lin Han.
"Do you recognize it?"
"No."
"Then why does it matter?"
"Because the carts were assigned to a military transport detail, but the sack appears to have passed through a commercial carrier."
Tian Bo considered this.
"Military supplies often travel on hired carts."
"Yes, Sergeant."
"Then the mark proves nothing."
"I know."
The sergeant studied him.
"You're looking for something."
Lin Han said nothing.
Tian Bo stepped closer.
"What?"
Lin Han considered the question.
He could tell the truth.
Not all of it.
But enough.
"I believe a shipment may have been recorded under the wrong destination."
Tian Bo's face became still.
"Which shipment?"
Lin Han hesitated.
"The special dispatch connected to East Ridge."
The sergeant looked toward the courtyard.
Then he lowered his voice.
"Do you understand what you're saying?"
"Yes."
"Do you have proof?"
"No."
"Then why are you saying it?"
"Because I think the physical route may explain the discrepancy."
Tian Bo stared at him.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then the sergeant said, "Come with me."
Tian Bo led him behind the repair shed.
The area was quieter, sheltered from the main yard by stacks of timber.
The sergeant folded his arms.
"Start from the beginning."
Lin Han hesitated.
He had not intended to reveal so much.
But he had already crossed the boundary.
He explained that he remembered a tally for six hundred shi bound for East Ridge.
He described the official summary showing nine hundred.
He mentioned that the inventory at Heiyang balanced.
He did not mention Wei Lan's fragment.
He did not reveal Mei Ling's family history.
And he did not claim to know where the remaining three hundred shi had gone.
Tian Bo listened without interrupting.
When Lin Han finished, the sergeant was silent.
Then he asked, "How many carts carried the shipment?"
"I don't know."
"Who commanded the convoy?"
"I don't know."
"Which road did it take?"
"I don't know."
"Where was it received?"
"I don't know."
Tian Bo shook his head.
"You have numbers and suspicions."
"Yes."
"Not a convoy."
Lin Han lowered his eyes.
"I understand."
"No, you don't."
The sergeant stepped closer.
"A shipment is not a line in a register. It is carts, animals, drivers, escorts, roads, and places where the load changes hands."
He pointed toward the repair yard.
"Every one of those things leaves a trace. But traces can mislead you."
Lin Han listened.
"Three carts return late. One wheel carries southern mud. A sack bears a merchant's mark. None of that proves they carried the grain you're looking for."
"I know."
"Then stop treating every cart as if it belongs to the same journey."
Lin Han felt the rebuke.
It was deserved.
He had been searching for connections before establishing whether the vehicles were involved.
Tian Bo continued.
"If you want to know where a convoy went, find the people assigned to it. Find the dates. Find the route. Then compare what they say with what the records claim."
Lin Han looked up.
"Can you help me?"
The sergeant's expression hardened.
"That depends on what you mean by help."
"I need to know whether the East Ridge convoy passed through the southern holding place."
"Why?"
Lin Han hesitated.
He had promised Mei Ling nothing about concealing her information.
But he had not promised to reveal it either.
"A commercial account suggests transport activity there around the same period."
Tian Bo stared at him.
"Where did you see this account?"
"I did not examine it directly."
"Who told you?"
"A merchant."
The sergeant's eyes narrowed.
"The woman from Chu?"
Lin Han felt his stomach tighten.
Tian Bo noticed.
"So it was."
Lin Han lowered his head.
"She asked about transport arrangements."
"And you discussed an official shipment with her?"
"Not the details."
"That was foolish."
"Yes, Sergeant."
Tian Bo sighed.
"At least you know."
He looked toward the administrative buildings.
"Listen carefully. I am responsible for moving supplies, not investigating every irregularity in the accounts."
"I understand."
"If a shipment was redirected improperly, the responsible office must examine it."
"Yes."
"And if you accuse someone without proof, you may destroy yourself before you discover anything useful."
Lin Han said nothing.
Tian Bo continued.
"I will ask about the movement records for the East Ridge dispatch. Nothing more."
Lin Han looked up.
"Thank you, Sergeant."
"Do not thank me."
The sergeant's expression remained stern.
"I am not doing this for you. If the records are wrong, my men may be sent to collect supplies that are not there."
Lin Han bowed.
"Understood."
Tian Bo turned away.
Then he stopped.
"And Lin Han?"
"Yes?"
"Stay away from the repair yard unless you're assigned there."
"Yes, Sergeant."
By evening, Lin Han had begun reconstructing the convoy in his mind.
Not from the official summary.
From what he knew about the physical work.
Nine hundred shi was a substantial quantity.
It could not be moved by a single cart.
The exact number of vehicles would depend on their capacity, the condition of the roads, the animals available, and whether the grain had been divided into separate loads.
He could not calculate the convoy from the quantity alone.
But he could identify what evidence would matter.
The dispatch date.
The number of carts assigned.
The names of the drivers.
The route instructions.
The receiving acknowledgment.
And any record of a load being transferred.
He remembered the commercial holding place Mei Ling had named.
If three hundred shi had been diverted there, the movement might have required additional carts or a change in the original route.
That change could leave traces.
A hired driver paid for an unexpected journey.
An animal requisitioned for an extra day.
A cart recorded at a roadside station.
A receiving acknowledgment that did not match the original destination.
He had no access to most of those records.
But he now understood what he was looking for.
Not missing grain.
A missing movement.
The following morning, Tian Bo returned with a narrow bundle of notes.
He found Lin Han near the western loading platform.
"Come here."
Lin Han approached.
The sergeant spoke quietly.
"I asked about the East Ridge dispatch."
Lin Han felt his pulse quicken.
"And?"
"The transport office says the movement was completed."
"All nine hundred shi?"
"That is what the summary records."
"Did they provide the original route instructions?"
"No."
"Why?"
"They said the records had been transferred for examination."
Lin Han looked toward the administrative courtyard.
"To Inspector Xu?"
"Possibly."
"Did they identify the drivers?"
Tian Bo studied him.
"You're asking too quickly."
Lin Han lowered his head.
"Forgive me."
The sergeant continued.
"The transport office maintains that the shipment reached East Ridge. But one of the older movement notes refers to a separate group of carts."
Lin Han looked up.
"How many?"
"That is not clear from what I was shown."
"Where did they go?"
"The note names a southern junction."
Lin Han felt the pieces shift.
The southern junction lay near the route Mei Ling had identified.
Not proof.
But closer.
"Was the note part of the official summary?"
"No."
"Then why was it separate?"
Tian Bo's expression hardened.
"That is what I asked."
"And?"
"I was told the movement had been consolidated."
The word struck Lin Han.
Consolidated.
The same explanation Qiao Ren had used.
The same justification for the replacement summary.
Tian Bo continued.
"I asked who authorized the consolidation."
Lin Han waited.
"The clerk told me the matter belonged to the regional supply administration."
Lin Han felt a chill.
"Which official?"
"The supervising office under Du Cheng."
The name was unfamiliar to him.
"Who is Du Cheng?"
Tian Bo looked surprised.
"You truly don't know?"
"No, Sergeant."
"An official with authority over regional supply arrangements. His office coordinates allocations and transport reporting across several facilities."
Lin Han considered this.
A higher office.
One with authority over both the records and the movement of grain.
That did not prove Du Cheng had ordered anything improper.
But it explained why lower clerks might hesitate to question the instructions.
Tian Bo watched him.
"Do not make assumptions."
"I won't."
"You already are."
Lin Han lowered his head.
"Yes, Sergeant."
The sergeant sighed.
"You're clever enough to notice a discrepancy. That does not make you clever enough to survive the men responsible for resolving it."
Lin Han said nothing.
Tian Bo handed him no documents.
He offered no promise of further assistance.
Instead, he said, "Return to your work."
Lin Han bowed.
"Yes, Sergeant."
The decision that followed was Lin Han's mistake.
He did not recognize it as one until later.
At the time, it seemed reasonable.
He had learned that the East Ridge dispatch involved a separate group of carts.
He had learned that an older movement note referred to a southern junction.
He had learned that the transport office attributed the consolidated records to a higher supply administration.
And he knew that Qiao Ren had warned him against discussing the matter with merchants.
Lin Han believed the safest course was to demonstrate that his observations could be useful to the officials themselves.
If he could show that he was not spreading rumors, perhaps they would stop treating him as a threat.
Perhaps he could gain a safer assignment.
Perhaps he could become someone worth protecting rather than silencing.
He had no authority to approach Du Cheng.
He had no access to the regional supply office.
But he knew one official who had questioned him before.
A records attendant named Fang Yi, who had assisted with the inspection and remained at Heiyang to coordinate the examination of transport accounts.
Lin Han had seen him speaking with Qiao Ren.
He knew Fang Yi was connected to the offices examining the discrepancy.
He did not know how closely.
That uncertainty should have stopped him.
It did not.
He approached Fang Yi near the records courtyard shortly before sunset.
The attendant was examining a bundle of slips.
"Sir."
Fang Yi looked up.
"What is it?"
"I have information that may concern the East Ridge dispatch."
The man's expression changed.
"Who are you?"
"Lin Han. I was questioned by Inspector Xu."
Fang Yi studied him.
"Ah. The laborer who remembers tallies."
"Yes, sir."
"What information?"
Lin Han hesitated.
He had planned to speak carefully.
But the attendant's attention encouraged him.
"I believe the special dispatch may have included two separate movements."
Fang Yi said nothing.
"One was recorded for East Ridge. Another may have traveled through the southern junction."
"Why do you believe that?"
"An older movement note refers to separate carts."
"Have you seen this note?"
"No, sir."
"Then how do you know?"
"I was told of it."
"By whom?"
Lin Han hesitated.
He could not name Tian Bo without permission.
"A person familiar with transport arrangements."
Fang Yi's expression became unreadable.
"Go on."
Lin Han continued.
"The official summary records nine hundred shi delivered to East Ridge. But I remember an earlier tally for six hundred. If the remaining quantity traveled separately, the receiving records should distinguish the destinations."
Fang Yi watched him closely.
"Are you accusing the transport office of falsifying records?"
"No, sir."
"Then what are you suggesting?"
"That the original movement notes should be compared with the receiving acknowledgment."
The attendant was silent.
Then he smiled.
"That is a thoughtful suggestion."
Lin Han felt a small measure of relief.
Fang Yi continued.
"Have you discussed this with anyone else?"
Lin Han's relief vanished.
"Only in limited terms."
"With whom?"
"A transport sergeant."
"Which sergeant?"
Lin Han hesitated.
Fang Yi waited.
"Tian Bo."
The attendant nodded slowly.
"And the merchant woman?"
Lin Han felt his stomach tighten.
"You know of her?"
"Answer the question."
"She asked about commercial transport arrangements."
"Did she mention the southern junction?"
Lin Han said nothing.
Fang Yi's smile faded.
"Did she?"
"Yes, sir."
"Did she provide documents?"
"Only commercial information."
"What information?"
Lin Han realized too late that he had entered a conversation he could not control.
He had approached the attendant believing he could offer a useful reconstruction.
Instead, every answer revealed another person connected to the inquiry.
Tian Bo.
Mei Ling.
Luo Jian.
He had not intended to expose them.
But he had already provided enough for Fang Yi to begin asking the right questions.
The attendant closed the document bundle.
"You have been very helpful, Lin Han."
Lin Han lowered his head.
"Thank you, sir."
"Return to your duties."
"Yes, sir."
As he turned away, Fang Yi spoke again.
"One more thing."
Lin Han stopped.
"Do not discuss this with anyone else."
"Yes, sir."
"Not the sergeant. Not the merchants. Not the other laborers."
Lin Han bowed.
"Understood."
He walked away.
Behind him, Fang Yi entered the administrative office.
That night, Lin Han could not sleep.
He replayed the conversation again and again.
He had revealed the southern junction.
He had named Tian Bo.
He had confirmed that Mei Ling possessed commercial information.
And he had done so to an official whose loyalties he had not established.
The mistake was obvious now.
He had confused an opportunity to be useful with an opportunity to be safe.
They were not the same thing.
A powerful man might value information.
That did not mean he valued the person who supplied it.
Lin Han lay awake, listening to the other laborers breathe.
He thought of Wei Rong.
The official had signed questionable orders and later attempted to investigate them.
He had believed that documents might protect him.
They had not.
Lin Han had believed that careful reasoning might make him valuable to the authorities.
Now he wondered whether it had merely made him easier to identify.
Outside, the night guards changed their watch.
A cart rattled along the road beyond the wall.
Lin Han counted the wheels.
Then he stopped.
He closed his eyes.
For the first time, he understood that the missing cart was not the most dangerous part of the mystery.
The dangerous part was that someone had gone to considerable effort to make its journey disappear.
And now that person might know exactly who was looking for it.
The following morning, Lin Han was ordered to remain in the compound after the other laborers departed for their assignments.
Overseer Gao stood beside the entrance to the administrative courtyard.
His expression was grim.
"Lin Han."
"Yes, Overseer."
"You are to report to the records office."
Lin Han felt his stomach tighten.
"Again?"
Gao stepped closer.
"Do not question me."
"Yes, Overseer."
The overseer looked toward the office.
"Someone has taken an interest in you."
Lin Han said nothing.
Gao's voice lowered.
"I warned you about making yourself important."
Lin Han kept his eyes on the ground.
"Yes, Overseer."
"Now you will learn what happens when important men begin asking questions."
Gao turned away.
Lin Han stood alone for a moment.
Then he walked toward the records office.
The door was open.
Inside, two guards waited beside a low table.
A document case rested between them.
And seated behind it was Fang Yi.
The attendant looked up.
"Lin Han."
His voice was calm.
Almost friendly.
"Come in."
Lin Han crossed the threshold.
Fang Yi opened the document case.
"We have some questions about the information you provided yesterday."
Lin Han knelt.
"Yes, sir."
The attendant withdrew a wooden slip.
"Let us begin with the merchant woman."
Lin Han lowered his head.
He had wanted to find the missing cart.
Instead, he had led the inquiry directly to the people who might help him find it.
And he was beginning to understand that the officials asking the questions might already know where it had gone.