Chapter Five: Hot Soup

Outside, sirens blared loudly. Warm-colored lights glowed inside the police car’s compartment.

Night had fallen; outside the window, police cars and red and blue spotlights flashed alternately. Infantry soldiers carrying heavy weapons shouted commands. The scene outside was bustling with activity, but the car’s soundproofing was excellent, keeping the noise at bay within the vehicle.

Suddenly, the door next to him opened, and the clamor seeped in. A military cadet in a fish-scale-patterned uniform hunched his way into the car and took the seat next to Shang Luo. Although cramped, he closed the door behind him to prevent the outside commotion from startling Shang Luo, who had just emerged from the cave.

Silence returned inside, though now there was a robust soldier resembling a young bull, nearly filling Shang Luo’s entire field of vision.

“Drink this while it’s warm. It’s damp down there; it’ll warm you up.” He hooked two fingers and handed over a field ration box.

Shang Luo took it. Inside was a bowl of seaweed egg soup—the seaweed freshly soaked in boiling water, the eggs made from dried egg powder, with bright green scallions floating on top. By military standards, this soup looked quite decent.

“Thank you.” He sipped it; the taste was good—standard, reliable modern processed food, evoking memories of city life in Yingtian and the lingering scent of gasoline.

“You seem unusually calm,” the cadet said, turning sideways and resting one hand on the headrest. This relaxed posture made him appear more approachable.

“I knew someone would come to rescue me. But I didn’t expect it to be the Embroidered Uniform Guards.”

Indeed, what surprised him most was that it was the Embroidered Uniform Guards. It was like ordering takeout from the “Lan Fang Yuan” tea shop chain run by the Zheng family in Nanyang, only to have the Prince of Yanping himself deliver the food.

Yet, the presence of the Embroidered Uniform Guards here was not impossible; after all, they could appear anywhere on Earth.

The Embroidered Uniform Guards were perhaps the most famous secret agent organization in history. Founded in the fifteenth year of the Hongwu reign—a time so distant it defied imagination—they had been featured in various literary works since the Wanli era, let alone in the current Shaoping 4.

Everyone knew of their existence, much like Rome had its own “Crypti” internal guards. But knowing they existed didn’t mean everyone knew what they did—which meant they could show up anywhere.

According to limited public information, the Embroidered Uniform Guards had two branches: the Southern and Northern Divisions. The Northern Division was more commonly seen because they handled official business and were often photographed by journalists at law enforcement scenes. By protocol, an officer in fish-scale-patterned uniform carrying an embroidered spring knife had to be present at the scene when the Guards conducted operations.

The Southern Division was much more mysterious. They did not perform official duties; instead, they executed imperial orders. No one knew what the Southern Division was up to—except during imperial examinations.

Imperial exam days were the only times the Southern Division appeared in the news, always as front-page headlines. Because from printing to grading, the exam papers were handled entirely within the prison courtyard of the Imperial Censorate. The examiners, including the chief examiner, could not leave until all papers were graded.

Only then could the media, through the opened iron gates, capture a glimpse of a corner of the prison—though just a corner. The prison gates operated in tandem, so when the outer gate opened, the inner gate closed.

Now, Shang Luo realized he was witnessing something serious. He caught a glimpse of the cadet’s badge.

An ivory badge with a patina, inscribed with three characters meaning “Embroidered Uniform Guards.” To the right, “Southern Division Supervision Office,” and to the left, “Number 26.” In the center was a nine-layer seal script character in cinnabar—a code impossible to decipher.

“You’re from the Southern Division of the Embroidered Uniform Guards?” he asked.

“Yes.” The cadet did not avoid the question. “There has been some trouble here in Yangzhou. We’re on a special assignment... But it’s all settled now. Soon, we’ll take you back. I’ve already contacted your guardian.”

“You managed to get in touch with Old Shang?” Shang Luo looked up at him.

“You call him Old Shang? Well, that’s your family business. Such a father-son relationship isn’t bad. Anyway, now that I’m in San Francisco, you can relax. I promised your father I’d look after you.”

The cadet smiled faintly, as if brushing it off. “My name is Lu Huaiyang. Perhaps your father mentioned me?”

“Ah, you’re Captain Lu?” Shang Luo recalled the name. Indeed, such a person existed.

When Old Shang was still around, he would call Captain Lu every so often, with long pauses between sentences. Looking back, those must have been trans-Pacific calls via submarine cables, which explained the delay.

“Looks like he didn’t hide his calls from you. Your father... Old Shang wasn’t very considerate. Those things shouldn’t have been told to a child. I can contact him now. Want me to call?”

Shang Luo sensed the cadet was carefully choosing his words, not imposing any sense of filial obligation.

“No need. If he left without a word, it must have been urgent.”

Shang Luo still remembered; it had been two months ago. That “Old Shang” said he was going out to buy cigarettes and never returned.

If not for the postcard he sent from Alexandria, Rome, Shang Luo might have thought he had vanished. The postcard bore a photo of him with the Lighthouse of Alexandria in the background—proof he was indeed there.

“You guessed right. It was a serious matter, extremely urgent. The plan’s secrecy was tight; it’s a rare joint operation between Yujing and Constantinople... Have you finished drinking? Good, drink it all—don’t waste it.” Patiently, he waited until Shang Luo finished before taking back the empty ration box.

“I always feel you’re not very safe. How about this—”

Lu Huaiyang suddenly made a decision. With one hand, he took back the empty box; with the other, he unfastened his badge from his waist—behind his back, his fingertips flickered with a barely perceptible electric light. The light merged into the badge before he handed it to Shang Luo.

“Hold onto my badge. As long as you’re within San Francisco, I’ll come to rescue you within half an hour.”

“But if you give me your badge, what will you do?”

“Your safety is paramount, and I have other identification. Don’t worry. But one last thing: don’t do anything strange with my badge. If you do, I’ll know. Your father did the same once, so I’m warning you—I really will know what you use the badge for.”