Chapter 112 - Chapter 112: Rumor With a Mouth

Han didn't let Wuchen kneel long before speaking. The moment Wuchen stepped onto the platform, Han's teacup clinked softly and his voice came mild as ever. Rumor, he said. Not a sentence. Wuchen bowed low and let his fingers warm and tremble ugly, painted weakness that made him look like he belonged to errands and fear. He chose the rumor Gu Yan gave him, but he delivered it like he was ashamed to repeat it. This one heard… Senior Sister Lan wants the original signature slip, Wuchen whispered. And patrol will kill to keep it hidden. Han's brush stopped. A heartbeat of quiet. Then Han smiled without warmth. Kill, he repeated, tasting the word like tea leaves. Patrol kills with paperwork, runner. Lan kills with comfort. I kill with rules. He leaned forward slightly, eyes bright. Where did you hear it? Wuchen bowed deeper. This one only heard mouths, he said. Corridor mouths. Han chuckled. Good answer, he murmured. It means you're lying well enough to survive. He set the brush down and tapped the thin ledger once. If Lan wants the original, Han said mildly, then she will reach for my clerk trays again. If patrol wants it hidden, patrol will reach for my gate logs again. His eyes lifted to Wuchen. And if both reach, they will touch my hands. Wuchen's stomach tightened. Han sipped tea and spoke to his clerk without turning. Call Luo Ping, he said. The clerk stiffened. Yes, Deacon. Wuchen's throat went dry. Han was going to pull Lan's lung into daylight again. Han looked at Wuchen and smiled faintly. You will stand here and listen, Han said. If you can feed me, you should also learn what feeding buys. Wuchen bowed. Yes. Minutes later, Luo Ping arrived. He climbed the platform stairs like he was walking into a room he wanted to burn clean. His face was blank. He bowed to Han and didn't look at Wuchen. Deacon, Luo Ping said. Han's voice stayed polite. Your Senior Sister is curious again, he said. She wants signed slips. She likes originals. Luo Ping's jaw tightened a fraction. Han continued, mild. Tell her I will show her the original if she comes herself, Han said. Not send lungs. Come. Speak. Sign. Luo Ping's eyes narrowed. Senior Sister Lan doesn't answer summons from clerks, he said flatly. Han smiled. Then she answers summons from missing paper, he murmured. He leaned forward. I will keep Qian Luo's signature slip under my seal, Han said softly. If Lan reaches for it, I will treat it as theft from deacon office. If she doesn't, I will treat patrol's presence at my gate as obstruction. He lifted his cup. Either way, someone loses face. Luo Ping's expression didn't change, but his hands tightened inside his sleeves. Han watched him like a man watching a dog's teeth. Now, Han said, give me one reason I shouldn't detain you again for sniffing my shelves. Luo Ping's voice stayed flat. Dogs smell filth, he said. Han chuckled. Filth belongs to everyone, he murmured. But shelves belong to me. He waved a hand. Go tell her, Han said. And