兔时已过四十五分,天色仍未放晴.万人冢旁,风中飘来腐烂泥土和焚烧纸祭品的恶臭.
江慕辰蹲在一棵老槐树的阴影里,看着三个身影从不同方向悄悄靠近.枯草在黑暗中发出嘎吱嘎吱的响声,如同骨头断裂一般.
王多宝最先到.他圆圆的脸冻得发青,一边搓着手一边拖着脚步走着."江...怎么会在这里?我翻过坟墓的时候踩到了三座坟,鞋子都湿透了,全是霉运."
"因为没人来这里,"江慕辰说着,靠在树上,目光扫过另外两人.
周小欢紧随其后——一个穿着打着补丁的佣人服的小女孩,两条马尾辫被风吹得猎猎作响,她紧紧抱着一个破烂的包裹,仿佛里面装着她全部的家当.她在离树三步远的地方停了下来,瞥了江慕尘一眼,然后迅速低下了头.
郑小奇最后一个到.这个皮肤黝黑的男孩赤着脚走在冰冷的地面上,脚底的裂纹露出暗红色的皮肤.他一言不发地站在江慕尘的左边,眼睛像深水一样,映照着夜空中最后几颗渐渐消失的星星.
四个人.一棵枯树.身后是绵延的墓冢.
风吹过坟墓上褪色的纸旗,发出哀嚎或嘲笑——谁也说不清是哪一种声音.
"都在这里."江慕辰从胸口掏出四个掌心大小的木牌.这些木牌是用仆人宿舍里最便宜的白杨木板粗略地削成的,边缘参差不齐,背面都用炭笔画着同样的符号——三个圆圈交织在一起,像水面上的涟漪,一笔画成.
他把代币分发给大家."慕辰社的代币.每人一个.用这个互相识别."
王多宝翻过来看看,指尖描摹着粗糙的炭黑."江...所以这是...组帮派?"
"就当是抱团取暖吧."江慕辰打开一个油纸小包,里面是四块黄褐色的粗糙饼干,夹杂着谷壳——硬得能硌人."我们这些仆人孤身一人,哪儿也去不了.我们四个人,八只眼睛,四只耳朵——就能看得更清楚,听得更清楚了."
他们默默地分着饼干.早饭要到龙时才到,他们都饿坏了.周小欢慢吞吞地吃着,细细品味着每一丝饼干皮;郑小琪则几口就把饼干咽了下去,目光始终追随着远处云雾缭绕的山峦.
"边吃边聊."江慕辰咬了一口饼干,碎屑掉落在他的长袍上.他拂去碎屑."小环,你能确认一下李管事在图书馆一楼的午睡时间吗?"
她用力地点了点头,嘴唇上还沾着面包屑."每天中午,他都会准时犯困.揉揉眼睛,头耷拉下来...大概呼吸一百次,然后就睡着了.但他耳朵很灵,沉重的脚步声就能把他吵醒."
一百次呼吸——半根香.
"That'll work." Jiang Muchen stored it mentally. "Second floor and above—any way to catch what's going on in the lecture halls?"
She shook her head, ponytails bouncing. "Soundproof barrier. But when cleaning stairs, I catch a few words through the door cracks. Two days ago, I heard: 'Qingming Herb Valley,' 'Outer Barrier,' 'Nine-turn Revival Pill.'"
Jiang Muchen narrowed his eyes.
Qingming Herb Valley—the first secret realm in the plans. Nine-turn Revival Pill—a high-value resurrection elixir. Fragments like these, to inner disciples preparing for the realm, were priceless.
"Keep listening," he said. "Any info on herb distribution, beast weaknesses, barrier bypasses—write down even a few words."
She nodded, carefully wrapping the remaining biscuit for lunch.
"Xiaoqi," Jiang Muchen turned to the dark-skinned boy, "within the sect's rivers, which currents are strongest? Where are hidden reefs? How does water signal weather changes?"
Zheng Xiaoqi swallowed the last bite. Words came slow, deliberate, like stones lifted from water, heavy: "East segment, Huilong Bay—strongest, whirlpools below, Qi Stage Five or below can't manage a boat. West segment, Chaotic Rocks—37 visible reefs, 19 hidden. Water lowest on the first and fifteenth. Before storms… fish dive deep, water smells stronger, water mosquitoes skim surface."
He paused. "Also, every eighth day, Logistics moves a batch of Cold Iron Ore by river. Alchemy disciples escort the boats. They rest at Old Crow's Beak for half an hour, often sneaking drinks."
Wang Duobao's eyes went wide. "Cold Iron Ore? That's crucial for the Foundry! If we knew when they slack off…"
"Not to report," Jiang Muchen interrupted. "To help. When they're in chaos, our people happen to pass by, lend a hand. Relationships are more valuable than complaints."
Wang Duobao blinked, seeing Jiang Muchen in a new light—a monster disguised among servants.
"Duobao," Jiang Muchen said, "track Task Hall and Market price trends. But add one thing—note which inner disciples buy which materials, quantities, and timing."
"Is this…?"
"To figure out their cultivation patterns, skill inclinations, even bottlenecks," Jiang Muchen's voice cut clear in the morning wind. "A sword disciple buying heaps of Pulse-Nourishing Pills? Possibly damaged meridians. A frantic alchemist stocking Red Flame Fruits? Trying to boost fire-based pill success. Info like this—can be traded for big returns."
Wang Duobao inhaled sharply, round face pale with fear. "If we get caught…"
"That's why we meet at the Mass Grave," Jiang Muchen squatted, drawing symbols in the frozen earth with a stick. "Every first and fifteenth, midnight—gather to exchange intel. Otherwise, we use wooden token signs: along the servant quarters' well, behind the third dining hall pillar, northeast toilet brick seam. Tiny charcoal marks."
He drew a circle: "Safe." Two nested circles: "Intel available." Three nested: "Emergency meeting." Then simple directional marks and numbers, like ancient shamanic sigils.
"Remember it all. Our web—hidden, yet catches the wind."
---
Three days later, dusk. Outside the Foundry.
Jiang Muchen crouched in shadow, counting seconds. A small cloth bag in his chest held a dozen fresh Gold-Filtering Grass—gray-green leaves with silver veins, rough to the touch. He'd spent five fragments buying them from an old servant who would have thrown them away as weeds.
A roar came from inside:
"Useless! Another batch ruined!"
Thunder. Followed by shattering metal, panicked footsteps, sharp breaths.
On the third shout, Jiang Muchen stood, brushed red dust off—metallic residue from constant Foundry operations mixed with ash, crunching underfoot.
He moved to the side door. Two outer disciples blocked it, Qi Stage Six, red short tunics with flame emblems. Seeing Jiang Muchen in pale servant clothing, the left one scowled, hand on the iron ruler at his waist. "Move! What are you doing here?"
Jiang Muchen bowed, presenting the bag in rehearsed precision. "Seniors, I bring herbs."
"Herbs?" The disciple tore it open, seeing the gray-green weeds, face flushed. "You're joking?"
"Gold-Filtering Grass," Jiang Muchen said calmly, each word striking like a hammer on iron. "Found in a corner of the Library. Juice removes metallic impurities. Master Firecloud struggles with Red Copper purity. I brought these, maybe useful."
They froze, exchanging looks—annoyance giving way to suspicion, then caution.
"Let him in."
A gravelly voice inside. They stepped aside, almost trembling. Jiang Muchen entered, heat striking him like a volcano.
A three-meter bronze furnace blazed red. Taotie patterns warped, like alive. Dark red flames roared from the mouth, each gust whipping the air.
In front stood Firecloud Master—red hair, red beard, towering like a standing bear. Muscles bronze under firelight. Eyes bloodshot, fixed on molten copper.
"Say this grass purifies Red Copper?"
"I dare not guarantee," Jiang Muchen bowed, stray hair lifted by heat. "But 'Herbs Compendium' records: 'Gold-Filtering Grass, silver-veined leaves, clear juice, absorbs metallic impurities.' Perhaps it removes excess black tin sand in Red Copper…"
"Perhaps my foot!" Firecloud snatched the bag, tossing some to a trembling disciple. "Grind it! Fast! Use jade pestle, don't lose spirit energy!"
The disciple scrambled. Firecloud glared at Jiang Muchen. "Where did you get this compendium?"
"Picked a damaged copy from the Library corner," Jiang Muchen lied without blinking.
Moments later, gray-green juice in a clay bowl. Firecloud hesitated, then poured it into the furnace.
*Hiss.*
Smoke, sharp acid stench. Copper roiled, foam rising—filthy, gray-black.
Firecloud's eyes widened—he instantly recognized the foam as the toughest black tin sand impurity. It worked.
"Skim it! Now!"
Seven long skims later, molten copper settled, glowing bright red-gold, pure. Firecloud laughed, booming like thunder, dust falling from the ceiling, smoke curling.
他拍了一下江慕尘的肩膀,差点把他拍倒."小子!学学啊!叫什么名字?"
"江慕辰先生."
"江慕辰...记住!未来,铸造厂C3号火室——闲置时随意使用.那里的废料,如果有用就拿走.别浪费!"
江慕尘心中一震.火室——仅限内门弟子.借助火元素加持,火系修炼效果倍增.而且还有废料——能换取不少灵石.
"谢谢师父!"他深深鞠了一躬.
"闭嘴!"火云挥手打断他."走吧,别浪费我的时间.给你——"说着,他扔出一枚青铜代币,手里还握着温热的金属,正面是火焰纹章,背面是"C3",边缘铸造时依然锋利.
门外,门徒们的眼神发生了变化——从轻蔑到怀疑,再到嫉妒和谨慎.
江慕辰独自一人停在一堵摇摇欲坠的墙边,从周小欢那里取出一张皱巴巴的纸条——上面是藏在井边的炭笔字迹,是他去取饼干时留下的.
昏暗的光线下,三个嵌套的圆圈——紧急会议.下图:
"赵晓柳昨晚午夜独自前往万人坑,挖了些东西.用黑布包裹后,向北而去."
他盯着她.赵小柳——那个眼神冰冷的室友,右手因为刀伤而布满老茧.
北方...禁地,据说是古代战场.就连内门弟子都避之不及.
月光洒在青铜徽章上,火焰纹章在冰冷的光芒中闪耀.
江慕辰意识到,他们刚刚开始编织的网已经捕获了什么东西.某种看不见的东西,蠕动着,散发着血腥味和泥土味.
他把纸条揉成一团,嚼碎,吞了下去——苦涩的木炭味,像吞下了一个秘密.
他转过身,脑海中回荡着一个平静的声音:
*英特尔的价值在别人不了解的时候最高——而你却已经了解了.*
---
### 作者注:
在这个世界上,权力不仅仅指力量或技巧.有时,在正确的时间获得正确的信息就能扭转乾坤.江慕辰和他的团队正在学习如何运用杠杆,人脉和时机——如何凭借正确的信息出现在正确的地点,从而获得比蛮力更大的回报.
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