The torches at North Water Gate didn't die all night.
Both inspection sheds stayed up. The placards at their mouths had been replaced again, the new lettering blunt and brutal:
"Night searches.""Any old ticket—detain at once."
The holding pen behind the sheds still held people. If someone coughed, a runner beside them struck his baton once against the ground.
No one made another sound.
When Qin Zhao arrived, he didn't push forward. He remembered Xu Jinghong's instruction: tonight you don't save people—you watch how the register moves.
He circled behind a mound of salt sacks and crouched as if tying his shoe. Through a gap he saw a low table. A ledger lay open on it. The recording clerk sat behind the table, the lamp positioned to light paper—never the face.
One line written, one hook mark drawn.
When the hook was drawn, the wrist trembled—just slightly. After the tremor, the clerk wiped his fingertips along the seam of his trousers, as if rubbing off seal paste.
Qin Zhao fixed those motions in his memory.
That's the hook-writer.
At the start of the first night watch, the man with the Suppression Office token walked up to the low table and tapped the tabletop with his baton.
"Close the book. Box it. Seal it."
The clerk shut the ledger at once and slid it into a small wooden case. The lid was bound with red cord, the knot cinched tight.
The Suppression man took red paste and pressed it at the mouth of the case—leaving a small, round seal mark.
Qin Zhao's stomach sank.
This wasn't "moving a book." It was sealing custody. Once a custody seal falls, whoever breaks it carries the blame.
The baton tapped the ground again.
"Move."
Two runners lifted the case out of the shed. The escort walked in front, his token swinging: SUPPRESSION.
They didn't take the main road. They took narrow alleys. Three turns. Two stops. Each stop came with one glance back.
At last they entered a low door. The lintel held no nameboard, but two plaques hung from hooks by the threshold:
SUPPRESSIONNO ENTRY
Qin Zhao didn't go closer. He turned away.
He needed to report two things: the route—and the custody seal.
Back at the grain shop, the lamp was kept low.
Xu Jinghong didn't sit; she stood waiting. Chao Sheng leaned on the wall. The thin old man rolled a rush-wick between his fingers.
Qin Zhao came in and said it cleanly:
"The register was collected tonight and boxed. Suppression sealed it on the spot with a small round seal in red paste. The case was carried into a Suppression back door."
Xu Jinghong made it specific. "Did you see the seal clearly? Notched stamp or round custody seal?"
"Round," Qin Zhao said. "I couldn't read the characters, but the shape was round."
The old man explained the point at once.
"A round mark is usually a custody seal. If we capture the impression, we can prove tomorrow's master register draft passed through Suppression hands. When consequences come, Suppression won't be able to slip free."
Chao Sheng asked, "Proof helps? They can still detain people."
Xu answered bluntly.
"Proof doesn't rescue people. It forces them to carry blame.""And the people who carry blame move half a step slower."
She paused, then added the second requirement:
"Not enough. We also need this case to be missing one page."
Qin Zhao frowned. "Missing one page stops them?"
Xu laid out the cause like a chain:
"Tomorrow they'll copy a master register and send it down to the sheds.""Once the master register arrives, detentions get faster.""If the draft is missing a page, the master register won't reconcile.""When it won't reconcile, it has to go back to the desk to be patched.""And when it's patched, the hook-writer shows. The delivery hand shows."
Chao Sheng added, "The more they rush, the more they misstep."
Xu nodded. "So the missing page must be valuable. Valuable enough to prove whose hand draws the hook."
Qin Zhao asked, "How do we prove it?"
"We need a page written by that hand," Xu said. "The hook stroke is the person."
They couldn't return to North Water Gate and take a page. The case was already inside Suppression custody.
Xu was clear.
"The front door won't work. We use the intake window.""First we take the seal impression. Then we confirm where the real case is stored."
Chao Sheng went once, came back with a short report.
"There's an intake window by the back door.""It's open at night. They receive custody cases and notice tubes."
The thin old man produced an empty wooden case—red cord, knot, everything made to look right.
Xu Jinghong gave Qin Zhao his role.
"You stay outside and watch the lane mouth. One job only: if someone approaches, tap the wall twice."
Qin Zhao nodded. "Understood."
The intake window by Suppression's back door was small. Inside sat a clerk with one open ledger and one lamp.
Xu slid the empty case up. "North Water Gate custody case—storage intake."
The clerk looked up. "Custody mark?"
Xu set a lump of red paste on the sill. "Just sealed."
The clerk felt the knot—confirmed it looked right—then took the small round seal and pressed it into the red paste at the case mouth.
As the mark fell, Chao Sheng laid a paper-thin sheet over the edge of the paste and pressed lightly with his thumb. The sheet lifted away a faint outline.
Not forgery—capture. The round silhouette was enough.
The clerk pushed the case inward. "Set it there."
Xu added one casual question, like a delivery runner afraid of missing an item.
"The North Water Gate case—has it arrived?"
The clerk grunted and jerked his chin at a corner. "Arrived. All over there."
In the corner sat a case identical in every way—red cord, round mark.
Xu fixed the position in her mind.
She didn't linger. She eased back into the alley shadow.
Chao Sheng whispered, "We have the seal impression. We know where the real case is. Switch cases, take a page?"
Xu answered with the same calm clarity.
"Taking a page takes one breath.""That breath only works if nobody comes through the back door."
She had barely finished speaking when Qin Zhao's signal came from outside—two taps on tile at the alley corner.
Xu pulled back instantly. "Hands off. Someone's coming."
Chao Sheng's brow tightened. "No page?"
Xu shook her head.
"Take a page now and we collide with a body.""If we collide, the custody seal breaks. They'll trace the intake ledger back to North Water Gate—then back to our gate.""Tonight we take the seal impression and the position. That's enough."
They withdrew through winding alleys.
Less than the time it takes a half-cup of tea to cool, two Suppression men hurried in through the back door.
One step later and they would have collided.
Back at the grain shop, Chao Sheng stated the price. "By morning, the master register may already be copied."
Xu Jinghong nodded. "Then morning has to be harder."
She said it straight:
"We don't take the page at the back door.""We intercept it on the road.""The moment that case leaves Suppression and moves outward—that's our single breath."
She looked at Qin Zhao.
"At first light you go back to North Water Gate.""First: see whether they've swapped in a new register.""Second: see whether the hook-writer is present.""Third: if he is, learn his route—what door he enters."
Qin Zhao nodded. "Yes."
Historian's Note: If you can't take a page tonight, take the seal impression first. The impression is evidence. With evidence in hand, procedure can be turned back to bite them.
(End of Chapter)