(Publication-ready translation; terms kept consistent with prior chapters. Light notes at the end.)
Before dawn, Back Well Alley was already cold—cold enough to feel rigid.
Xu Jinghong pressed Qin Zhao to the wall and delivered three commands:
"Flat to the wall.""Hold your breath.""Listen only."
Chaosheng stood farther off, like a knife kept in its sheath. "One incense-stick's time. If the gate doesn't open, we withdraw. If it opens, we cut the line."
The thin old man crouched by the well cover, fingertips tracing a fresh scratch. "Someone probed the position last night. Today they'll come with men, with seals, with chains."
Qin Zhao's throat tightened. "They're really going down the well?"
"They will," Xu Jinghong said bluntly. "But they won't go first. They'll choke the mouth of the well dead before they descend."
I. They Follow the Fake Map: Seal the Alley, Set the Booths, Then Test the Well
Footsteps reached the alley mouth.
Three marched in step. The lead man carried a lantern so clean its shade bore no soot. In his hand he pinched a sheet of paper—the fake road-net diagram.
He didn't rush the well. He raised his hand and issued orders first.
"Seal the alley."
A temporary barricade was dragged in and planted in a row. Back Well Alley became a pipe.
"Set the booths."
A basin of red clay went center, a wooden ruler set to the right, iron chains hung from the booth post. A placard beside it read, crisp and plain:
SALT TICKETS RE-VERIFIED. NO TICKET, YOU'RE HELD.
Only when the layout was in place did the lead soldier spread the fake map and match it to the well's position.
He pointed at the cover.
"Probe the gate. Open."
II. Testing the Well: Xu Jinghong Makes the Lid Look "Touched—and Untouched"
Two soldiers stepped in and levered the cover.
The moment it rose an inch, Xu Jinghong's hand landed on the far side. She didn't fight them for strength—she went for the hidden latch.
A thin wedge slipped into the slot. The latch snapped back with a sharp pop.
The well cover dropped into place again, as if that inch had never happened.
The soldier froze. "But just now it lifted—"
The lead man crouched and ran his fingers along the rim.
He felt two things: the fresh scratch—and a dusting of fine salt powder.
His gaze went hard. "Someone touched it—just now."
This time he didn't pry again immediately.
He switched to something steadier, issuing three procedural orders in a row:
"Ring the well mouth!""Add a second booth—one full yard wider!""Send for grappling hooks, torches, well-rope—bring someone who knows wells!"
He stared at the cover. "Seal it first, then descend. Don't let anyone below slip out in the noise."
From the shadows, Chaosheng murmured, "Right. He's not refusing to check—he's killing the exit before he checks."
Xu Jinghong replied, "That's why we won't let him go down yet."
III. When the System Starts Biting: Verify, Mark, Detain
The second booth went up fast.
Two booths, front and back—two layers of sieve. Anyone passing had to do two things:
First: hand over a salt ticket; the wooden ruler pressed the ticket corner.Second: press into red clay mixed with grit—so a mark stayed on the hand.
The lead soldier didn't shout, didn't strike. He just pointed at the chains.
"Ticket doesn't match—hold them. Hands with grit-marks—hold them too."
A porter offered his ticket. The corner bent a little—just a little.
The clerk-soldier seized on it. "New paper. A patched ticket? Then you need a patch-seal. No seal—held."
The chain snapped on. The porter's face went white. "I patched it last night!"
The lead soldier replied coldly, "Last night's patchers are the most. Convenient—we'll question them together."
Qin Zhao's toe crept forward a fraction. He wanted to rush in.
Xu Jinghong didn't scold him. She hooked two fingers into his sleeve and drew him back into the wall.
"Watch," she said. "You rush out and you give them one more reason to hold someone."
Qin Zhao clenched his jaw and forced that fraction back into place.
IV. Small Disorder, Big Mercy: Break the Process for One Breath—Not the Whole Street
Xu Jinghong needed a single breath of interruption.
A pebble flicked from her sleeve and rang against the rim of the red-clay basin—ting.The basin shivered. A small chunk of clay crumbled off the edge.
The clerk-soldier's eyes dropped by reflex.
That drop was one breath.
The detained porter heaved his load sideways. Salt exploded across the ground—white as sudden snow.
The clerk-soldier cursed. "Looking for death?!"
The crowd jolted. The porter shoved into a gap near the barricade, squeezed out two steps, then ran.
He didn't look back.
Xu Jinghong didn't chase him—and didn't push the chaos larger. She wanted the process to break for a heartbeat, not for the alley to become a slaughterhouse.
From the shadows, Chaosheng gave a verdict: "Enough."
V. They Truly Prepare to Descend—And Then Bad News Upgrades the Game
At the well mouth, grappling hooks and torches arrived. A gray old well worker came too, rope coils across his back, escorted by two soldiers into the alley.
The lead man pointed at the cover. "Open half a foot. Hook and feel first. If we find anything—then we go down."
They meant it. And they meant it professionally: probe, then descend—no blind plunge.
Then a runner burst in at the alley mouth, shaking with breath, and thrust a slip of paper forward.
"The depot's sealed too.""East Wharf is on fire.""North Gate is grabbing people."
Xu Jinghong's eyes sank into bone.
The fake map should have been enough to make them probe one gate.Now it was three points moving at once.
Chaosheng delivered the conclusion—short and ice-cold:
"They've got more than the fake map."
The thin old man's voice rasped. "Half true, half false—still enough to raid three places."
Qin Zhao's voice tightened. "Then the inside hand—"
Xu Jinghong pressed him down and spoke every word clearly.
"The mole didn't hand them a 'single line.'He handed them the shadow of the route-net.""The shadow isn't complete—but it's enough for three blades."
Far off, three points of fire lifted: the depot, East Wharf, North Gate.
Not huge flames—just enough light to say it plainly:
the routes were being stolen.
Chaosheng lowered his voice. "Countdown's over. This isn't fishing for ghosts anymore. This is keeping the roads alive."
Xu Jinghong issued orders at once—so clean they left no space for panic.
"To East Wharf.""Save one point first.""Save one point—and the road can still breathe."
Qin Zhao answered short. "I'm with you."
Xu Jinghong corrected him like a rule. "Keep up. Mouth shut. Run."
—Chronicler's note:An enemy who notices a trace doesn't retreat. He seals first, then descends. What you win isn't that he won't go down—it's the sliver of time you stole before he does.
(End of this chapter)
Translator's Memo (as requested)
试门: Probe the Gate
围死再下: Seal first, descend after
井匠: Well Worker (specialist who knows wells; not a generic laborer)
红泥砂留痕: Marked Red Clay/Sand
同时抄点: Simultaneous raids
路网影子: Shadow of the route network