Volume One: The Lonely Beta Test Chapter Twenty: The Notice, Stolen

While a dozen craftsmen bustled about the Lin household in a frenzy, Lin Qing was methodically purchasing materials in the county town for Lin Feng’s creation of the Divine Thunder. By the time he had gathered everything, the sun was already dipping toward the west. Lin Qing arranged for others to deliver the materials back to the town. After sending them off, he checked into an inn alone and promptly fell into a deep slumber.

Lin Qing awoke late at night. He went to the washbasin and submerged his entire face in water. Only after about half a quarter of an hour did he lift his head, a testament to his exceptional skill in holding his breath. After a few vigorous twists of his neck, his spirits soared; he dried his face, quickly changed into night attire, and slipped silently out of the inn.

He stepped onto the street. Night’s shadows lay heavy, the surroundings eerily silent—truly a night of dark moon and high winds, the kind fit for murder and arson. Yet Lin Qing was not there to kill or set fires; his purpose was to steal the Wang family’s posted proclamation.

Originally, he had planned to snatch the notice outside the city and hurry home, but the city gates were already closed. He could only target the one posted inside. Lin Qing rose on his toes, light-footed and swift, darting toward the West Gate, vanishing in the blink of an eye into the boundless night.

“Hey… Old Zhao, did you hear something?” On the city tower above the West Gate, a night watchman nudged his companion, who was dozing on the ground, and whispered.

“Come on, what could possibly make a sound at this hour? You’re hearing things,” the reclining soldier replied grumpily, not bothering to open his eyes.

“Listen carefully, isn’t there a ‘tearing’ sound, like something being ripped?”

The soldier opened his eyes and listened intently. “What tearing? Must be rats gnawing at something.” He closed his eyes and resumed his nap.

“No, it seems to be coming from below the gate. Is there anything edible there? Why would rats chew down there?”

“If you’re so worried, go check. Stop bothering me and let me sleep,” the reclining soldier replied irritably.

Despite Old Zhao’s words, the awake soldier remained uneasy. He lifted his lantern and decided to investigate.

At the spot where the notice was posted, a figure dressed in black clung to a slanted wooden beam propped against the city wall, carefully tearing the proclamation. Hearing footsteps from above, he gave a forceful tug, and with a loud rip, the entire sheet came away. He tucked it into his chest, pushed off the beam, flipped through the air, landed lightly, and vanished before the wooden beam even hit the ground.

The crash of the beam was loud. The soldier, just arriving at the steps, heard it and immediately rushed down. He must have been quite brave to check alone in an era rife with thieves.

“Old Zhao, something’s wrong! Come quick!” the soldier shouted, staring incredulously at the spot where the proclamation had vanished.

Hearing the call, Old Zhao sprang up, grabbed his ring-handled saber, and rushed down. Clearly, he hadn’t really been asleep.

“What’s happened?” Old Zhao reached his companion.

“Look, the notice is gone!”

Old Zhao had suspected a criminal trying to sneak in or out, but hadn’t anticipated the theft of a proclamation. It was a first for him. He muttered in bewilderment, “How odd. People lose gold and silver to thieves, but I’ve never heard of a stolen notice. Could it be worth so much that someone would risk stealing it at night?”

“We can’t fathom the reason. We’d better report this to the authorities quickly. After all, it happened on our watch; if we report it right away, any punishment will be lighter,” the soldier said, about to leave.

“If you go now, don’t you think we’ll be punished even more?” Old Zhao stopped him.

“Why?”

“Oh, Old Ma, you never think things through. Our county magistrate is likely sleeping sweetly in some beauty’s arms. If we disturb his dreams now, do you think we’ll fare well?” Old Zhao cast him a glance. “Besides, do you even know who posted that notice?”

“Who was it?” Old Ma asked.

“Oh, after all these years guarding the city with me, you still don’t know. The West Gate belongs to the Wang family; naturally, it was posted by them. Have you seen such a notice on any other gate lately?”

From Old Zhao’s tone, one could tell he’d given up hope for Old Ma’s intelligence.

Old Ma stayed silent, waiting for Old Zhao to continue.

“I suspect even the magistrate doesn’t want to be involved. When bandits commit crimes, have you ever seen any reported case get handled? Since it’s the Wang family’s notice, any report should go to them. Who knows, maybe we’ll get a reward.”

One had to admit, Old Zhao’s mind was sharp; his talents were wasted on mere city guarding.

“Old Zhao, your analysis makes sense. Let’s wait for dawn to inform the Wang family,” Old Ma said.

“No, we must go now. This matter is surely important to the Wangs. You go, I’ll stand guard here. Remember, just mention the incident; ask nothing else,” Old Zhao instructed.

“Alright, I’ll go. Take care here,” Old Ma said, grabbing his lantern and departing.

Once Old Ma left, Old Zhao stared at the torn remnants of the notice, lost in thought.

“Master, Master, please wake up, something’s happened!”

Within the Wang family’s residence west of the city, someone banged on the door.

After a moment, lights flickered inside, and the door opened. A middle-aged man with a goatee, draped in an overcoat, stepped out. “What is it? Raising a ruckus in the middle of the night?”

This was Wang Lin, the current head of the Wang family—a shrewd businessman who, since taking charge, had elevated the Wangs from a small town like Maple Grove to the county seat. In recent years, he’d outcompeted several old merchant families to become the largest commercial house in the county. Yet his temperament was ruthless and eccentric.

The messenger bowed, “Master, something’s wrong. The city’s night watch came to say the proclamation was stolen!”

He watched Wang Lin nervously, fearing the incident might not warrant disturbing him and risk punishment.

Wang Lin glared at him, clearly displeased at being roused at midnight. “Are you sure? Who would dare steal a notice?”

“Master, I heard clearly. I recognize the messenger—a veteran named Ma, who guards the West Gate. He’s still outside if you wish to ask him yourself.”

Upon hearing this, Wang Lin’s anger subsided. He pondered for a moment, seeming to recall something, then suddenly kicked the messenger to the floor, roaring, “Go reward Zhao, and tell him I was not disturbed!”

“Yes, Master!” The man scrambled up and ran off, not daring to linger a moment.

“Someone, bring Wang Fu to the study!” After the messenger left, Wang Lin called loudly.

Soon, a middle-aged man arrived, adjusting his clothing as he ran. “Big brother, what’s happened to make you call me at this hour? I was sleeping soundly!”

Wang Lin said nothing, his face clouded, and strode into the room, motioning Wang Fu to follow.

Seeing his brother’s expression, Wang Fu dared not protest further, slinking inside. Just as he was about to sit at the table, Wang Lin spoke, “Close the door!”

“What’s going on? Why the secrecy?” Wang Fu grumbled, but nonetheless closed the door as instructed.

“Come, sit down,” Wang Lin said curtly.

Wang Fu nervously watched Wang Lin, whose inscrutable expression made Wang Fu uneasy—was his secret embezzling of funds for women discovered? He could only brace himself for punishment.

“Our proclamation posted at the city gate was stole