# 207. The Princesses Should've Received my Love Texts Now
Subsequently, they searched through many commonly found books using the same method to decode the ciphers, but all attempts ended in failure.
Song Tingfeng and Zhu Guangxiao were somewhat discouraged. The former squinted his eyes and said, "Ningyan, you seem to have lost your cleverness."
It was clear that Xu Qi'an's mental sharpness had significantly declined; he was not as keen as usual.
Xu Qi'an raised his head, staring blankly at the interwoven beams above, and said irritably, "When your friend was feeling unwell, didn't they also lack energy?"
"Wh-why bring up my friend..." Song Tingfeng felt a bit embarrassed.
*Hehe,* Xu Qi'an thought to himself, *I haven't slept for thirteen days, and you expect my brain to work fast? Susu, that useless creature, can't even help me stay alert. What's the use of keeping her?*
However, this kind of demon's value isn't in her core, but in her outward appearance.
Keeping a demon is like owning a fish pond, much easier and more pleasant than painstakingly managing all the backups like Huaiqing, Lin'an, Fuxiang, and Caiwei.
Eventually, the pond owner Xu Qi'an would hold a trident, and swiftly spear whichever fish he fancied.
"How about taking a break?" Song Tingfeng suggested.
"Let the attendants bring some sweets," Xu Qi'an said.
The best way to combat brain fatigue was to consume sugar. Sugar was the only energy source the brain can use. Most people enjoy sweets not because they taste so good, but because the brain prompts the body to intake sugar.
Xu Qi'an needed sugar badly right now.
The attendants prepared sweet dishes for them: longan egg soup, raisin cakes, almond tofu pudding... all sweet treats.
Xu Qi'an picked the longan egg soup, offering the almond tofu pudding to the squinting Song Tingfeng, who immediately brightened up, laughing, "Ningyan, how did you know I like sweet tofu pudding?"
*Because you look like a heretic...* Xu Qi'an chuckled, "Because we're brothers. Seeing you so miserable, I wanted to give you something sweet to cheer you up."
*Who was miserable?* Song Tingfeng rolled his eyes, knowing Xu Qi'an was alluding to the incident with Susu.
*Speaking of which, Susu is truly wonderful, a rare woman who can match me in bed for three hundred rounds...* Song Tingfeng thought of today's encounter in the teahouse private room, feeling a twinge of longing.
"You wouldn't understand; you're a playboy, but I'm not anymore." Song Tingfeng shook his head, sneering:
"When you first joined the Nightwatchers, I advised you to marry Captain Lyu Qing, but you hesitated and then started seeing Fuxiang. I knew then you were the same as me. If Captain Lyu married you, it would be a flower stuck in cow dung."
Xu Qi'an thought of the valiant Captain Lyu Qing and retorted, "Though Captain Lu isn't as pretty as Fuxiang, calling her cow dung is too much."
"I didn't call her cow dung; I was referring to you."
"Then why the flower stuck in cow dung analogy?"
"..."
After finishing the sweets, due to Detective Xu Ningyan's poor state, Song Tingfeng took on the burden of deduction, clearing his throat:
"Let's think from a different perspective. If I were Zhou Min, I'd hide the cipher book in a place where the Inspector's team could easily find it but wouldn't attract attention."
"Mm!" Xu Qi'an nodded.
"We've already checked Zhou Min's residence; there are no secret compartments or suspicious items. We've also compared the books he left behind," Zhu Guangxiao said.
Song Tingfeng pondered, rubbing his chin, “Maybe it isn't necessarily a book? Zhou Min was meticulous. He'd think of things others could think of.
"Let's consider another possibility. Could it be something with writing that's not a book? Ningyan, do you think this is possible?"
"Very good, Tingfeng, your intelligence has successfully caught my attention. You're a genius wasted by the women of the Jiaofangsi," Xu Qi'an praised, then asked:
"So, what do you think it could be? It's not a book but is among Zhou Min's belongings. And it must be quite thick..."
Xu Qi'an suddenly stopped.
"A calendar?!" Song Tingfeng exclaimed first.
The diligent Zhu Guangxiao accurately found a thick calendar among the belongings. "Is it this?"
"That's it!" Xu Qi'an exhaled, excitement gleaming in his eyes.
It's both a book and not a book. Both obvious and unremarkable. Based on his assessment and analysis of Zhou Min during this time, Xu Qi'an was confident this matched Zhou Min's style.
The three eagerly opened the calendar and, following the clues, counted to the first hundred and sixty-second character: Day!
Then the three hundred and forty-seventh character, the fourth character, the first character, and the second character.
Combined: Silent Daylight Fourth One Five!
Clearly, this was wrong.
Next, they used the second method, taking the page number instead of the character count.
If they used page numbers, then each character count corresponded to a specific day in the calendar. The combination was as follows:
Silent, 6th April, 15th January, 29th January , 25th January , 26th January .
“Wrong again,” Xu Qi'an threw the calendar aside, cursing, “This approach is incorrect. Let's start over.”
“Perhaps we should first decipher the character ‘Silent’ since it’s the only character and comes first,” Zhu Guangxiao suggested.
The leading position of the character was significant.
Xu Qi'an pinched the bridge of his nose, “Do you have any ideas?”
Zhu Guangxiao shook his head.
Xu Qi'an asked again, “The character ‘silent’ doesn’t have any special meaning in our constabulary, does it?”
Song Tingfeng pondered, “The Inspector General and Gold Gong Jiang have already studied the cipher. If ‘silent’ referred to some code within the constabulary, Sir Jiang and the Inspector General should have discovered it.”
“What could the Inspector General discover? He’s only good at guessing riddles,” Xu Qi'an sneered, then suddenly froze.
An idea sparked in his exhausted mind like a flash of lightning.
He recalled that when he was still at the police academy, a professor who studied criminal psychology had said that a person's behavior is closely related to their habits.
When profiling and analyzing a target, it’s essential to gather as much information about them as possible and understand their habits.
No matter how cunning the criminal, their behavior patterns always reveal their habits.
What were Zhou Min’s habits?
Word puzzles!
Yang Yingying had mentioned that Zhou Min enjoyed playing word puzzles with her while drinking. So, when Zhou Min was thinking about how to hide evidence and leave clues, he habitually leaned towards word puzzles. From this, Xu Qi'an deduced that the only character in the two sets of ciphers was also a word puzzle. Xu Qi'an's thought process became increasingly clear.
Song Tingfeng and Zhu Guangxiao exchanged looks, tacitly keeping the silence. Just then, Xu Qi’an’s keen insight returned, becoming as sharp and intelligent as when he was investigating the Sangpo case.
*Silent (默) can be split into black (黑) and dog (犬)...* Xu Qi'an pinched his brow and asked, “I remember a colleague mentioning that Huangbo Street is the dog market?”
Song Tingfeng nodded, “Yes, it's the dog market. Why?”
Xu Qi'an continued, “The character ‘Silent’ can be split into ‘black’ and ‘dog’. Huangbo Street was a clue left by Zhou Min in the previous word puzzle game. I think it matches now.”
“You think the cipher points to the dog market?” Song Tingfeng frowned. “What does ‘black’ represent? Is it too arbitrary to assume the cipher points to the dog market based solely on the character ‘dog’?”
“I have an idea.” Xu Qi'an didn’t finish his sentence and instead went outside to call an attendant.
“Sir, what do you need?” the attendant asked.
“How well do you know Huangbo Street?” Xu Qi'an inquired.
“Huangbo Street is a messy place. It's quiet during the day but becomes chaotic at night with all sorts of people—petty thieves, travelers, and even mountain bandits,” the attendant replied.
*Are they really selling dog meat or something else...* Xu Qi'an mused and asked, “Would mountain bandits and travelers go there just for dog meat?”
“Of course not. While on the surface the street sells dog meat, the place is actually a black market. They sell illicit goods and conduct shady transactions,” the attendant explained.
“Have you been to the black market?” Xu Qi'an asked.
The attendant looked embarrassed and mumbled, “I went to buy dog meat once.”
*Buying dog meat shouldn’t make you look so ashamed…* Xu Qi'an frowned, “Speak plainly.”
The attendant whispered, “I visited Xin No. 6 to find a prostitute. Buying dog meat refers to that.”
*Too young, so shy about visiting prostitutes…* The three men sighed in unison.
“Xin No. 6?” Xu Qi'an asked.
“Black market shops are named using the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches,” the young attendant, blushing furiously, felt like he was being publicly humiliated.
Xu Qi'an nodded, "Got it, you can leave now."
After the attendant closed the door and the sound of his footsteps faded, Xu Qi'an shrugged, "The situation is clear. Black Dog refers to the black market that sells dog meat."
It wasn’t surprising that such a place existed under the nose of the authorities. Even in the most prosperous city, black markets flourished.
Huangbo Street wasn’t far from the station, but it was part of the outer city and there was no curfew at night.
“So, what do the other codes mean?” Song Tingfeng pondered aloud, “They should tell us who to find or how to find someone at the black market.”
“The answer is in the calendar,” Xu Qi'an stated confidently.
“We’ve already checked it,” Zhu Guangxiao reminded him.
“The calendar idea was correct, but how could Zhou Min leave such crucial clues in his belongings?” Xu Qi'an countered, “It’s not this year's calendar, but one from a past year.”
“Which year?” Zhu Guangxiao asked gravely.
“Guangxiao, today you’re clearly not as sharp as Tingfeng. There are many past years; the Great Feng has been around for 600 years. Finding the right calendar would be like finding a needle in a haystack. Zhou Min wouldn’t be that foolish. Since it’s not this year’s calendar, it must hold some special significance to him.
“The calendar itself may not be special, but the year might be—like a birth year or a wedding date. My guess is it’s from fourteen years ago.
“That’s when Zhou Min was assigned to Yunzhou.”
The fourteen-year-old calendar wasn’t available at the station, but the constabulary and bookshops kept old records. To keep a low profile, Song Tingfeng chose to go to a bookshop instead of the constabulary.
After a short while, he returned on horseback with the old calendar.
Xu Qi'an found paper and ink, but thinking his handwriting wasn’t presentable, he handed the task to Zhu Guangxiao.
They used their previous method, deciphering by character count, but the resulting words made no sense.
Next, they tried the page number method. Page 162 corresponded to the 12th of May, which was suitable for market opening, weddings, moving into a new home, and traveling but unsuitable for prayers, opening warehouses, and digging wells.
“Market opening!” Xu Qi'an seized on the key information, “It suggests we go to the black market at night.”
Song Tingfeng agreed.
Next was the second set of codes: 347 4 1 2.
Xu Qi'an turned to page 347, which was dated January 15th. As he skimmed the calendar, a realisation dawned on him. He said:
“I understand now!
“One hundred sixty-two and three hundred forty-seven refer to page numbers, while four, one, and two refer to the character counts on those pages. Tingfeng, look at the fourth, first, and second characters on this page. What do they spell?”
Song Tingfeng squinted and read, “Ding No. 15...”
Recalling what the attendant had said, he blurted out, “Black market shop, Ding No. 15?”
The puzzle was finally solved...
Xu Qi'an and Song Tingfeng relaxed back in their chairs, exhaling deeply.
Zhu Guangxiao also set down his pen, feeling a sense of relief wash over him.
Xu Qi'an walked to the table and took a closer look, then exclaimed in surprise, “Guangxiao, your handwriting is terrible.”
Song Tingfeng came over to join the fun, exclaiming, “It’s unbearable!”
Zhu Guangxiao retorted, “Is your handwriting any better?”
Song Tingfeng replied proudly, “My calligraphy is as good as any scholar’s. When I was young, I saved up for paper and ink to practice.”
Xu Qi'an said, “When I was young and poor, I practiced writing with a brush dipped in water on the ground. I did that for twenty years.”
Zhu Guangxiao skeptically eyed them and handed over the pen, “Then show me.”
Xu Qi'an and Song Tingfeng, understanding each other perfectly, turned and walked away, arm in arm:
“Let’s go rest. Calligraphy isn’t something to show off.”
“I agree.”
Watching them leave, Zhu Guangxiao muttered to himself, looking at his own writing, and resolved to start practicing calligraphy diligently so as not to fall behind his teammates.
Back in his room, Xu Qi'an took off his shoes and sat in meditation to ensure he would be in good condition for the black market visit at night.
Maybe due to extreme mental fatigue, he struggled to enter the meditative state. His thoughts scattered uncontrollably.
*... By now, Huaiqing and Lin'an should have received my letters. I hope the letter can make Huaiqing forgive me, although I don't know what I did wrong... The silly Lin'an will surely be moved; she’s easier to woo than the naive foodie Chu Caiwei...*
As for whether the princesses would exchange letters or if others would see them, Xu Qi'an thought it unlikely.
First, Huaiqing and Lin'an didn’t get along, so they wouldn't share letters. Also, given the letters' intimate nature, no maiden would share such things.
Second, Huaiqing and Lin'an were mature princesses, old enough to bear children and have the freedom to send and receive letters. Neither the emperor nor concubines would interfere, and no one else would dare to open their letters.
It was almost impossible for Xu Qi'an, a lowly Bronze Gong, to get caught writing affectionate letters to the princesses.
Gradually, Xu Qi'an entered a state of visualisation.