In the evening, the twilight gradually deepened.
Matthew returned from the outer city, and by the time he passed through the inner city gates, the sky had already turned a faint, dusky blue.
The cobblestone streets of the inner city glowed with a soft, warm light in the twilight. The outlines of the buildings on both sides were sharp and clear, and warm yellow lights began to flicker on in the windows one after another.
The pedestrians on the streets were not as dense as they were during the day, and the sounds of carriages and horses had thinned out. The air was filled with the smoke of cooking dinners and a faint aroma of spices, carrying a sense of peaceful homecoming.
Compared to the crude clamor of the outer city, everything here remained neat and orderly, as if even the twilight itself had been filtered to be softer.
He walked slowly along the familiar streets. The Brass Rank badge on his chest rose and fell slightly against his collar, occasionally brushing against the fabric with a very soft rustling sound.
Before long, the sign of the Stone Oak Inn came into view.
A smoothly polished wooden board cast a dull gleam under the light of the lantern hanging from the eaves.
Pushing the door open and entering the lobby, he found it to be far more bustling than it had been at noon.
Several long tables had been pushed together, around which sat seven or eight travel-worn travelers. Still wearing their leather armor, they were loudly discussing their daytime missions, occasionally bursting into boisterous laughter.
In another corner, a few middle-aged men who looked like merchants conversed in low voices, their fingers gesturing on the tabletop as if calculating some accounts.
Most of the others were solo travelers like Matthew or small groups of two or three. They ate in silence, their eyes warily scanning their surroundings while their ears caught every potentially useful fragment of conversation.
Behind the counter, the owner was looking down, checking his accounts. Hearing footsteps, he immediately looked up.
Seeing it was Matthew, an attentive smile immediately spread across the owner's face, and he bowed slightly. “Sir, you've returned.”
As his eyes swept over the noisy crowd in the lobby, a trace of worry couldn't help but rise in his heart.
After all, he had been entrusted by Eldest Young Master Regg to ensure that the youth in front of him stayed comfortably and peacefully...
Yet it was so noisy now...
But it would also be inappropriate for him to shut down his nighttime food and drink business because of this.
After all, the youth was only staying temporarily. If the tavern closed, regular customers would be lost, and business would cool down. He feared it wouldn't be long before this inn returned to its original, deserted state.
Matthew withdrew his gaze and walked up to the counter, his tone casual. “Dinner as usual. Have it sent to my room in a bit.”
Pausing, he asked, “Owner, what time does your inn stay open until?”
Hearing this, the owner immediately grew nervous, secretly regretting that he shouldn't have been greedy for this bit of profit. If Master Regg were to hold him accountable, the losses would far outweigh the gains.
But on the surface, he hurriedly and respectfully replied, “Ten o'clock?”
Matthew didn't say anything immediately upon hearing this, only frowning slightly.
Ten o'clock?
That meant the noise would continue for quite a while longer.
It wasn't that he couldn't tolerate noise, but today seemed exceptionally loud...
Seeing Matthew's slight frown, the owner mistakenly thought he was angry and immediately changed his tune, a hint of panic in his voice. “Nine o'clock! Nine o'clock!”
Matthew saw the owner's nervousness. He had no intention of making things difficult for the man, nor was he the type to abuse his power just because he had attained a higher status.
After all, they were both just ordinary people, and the owner's attitude was quite sincere.
Seeing that the owner wanted to explain further, he waved his hand gently. “Nine o'clock then. Don't worry about it.”
Without waiting for the owner's response, he turned and quickly walked up the stairs.
He only heard the owner's somewhat rushed calls from downstairs, ordering the servants to prepare dinner as quickly as possible...
When he reached his room door, he saw at a glance a thick kraft paper document envelope stuffed under the door crack.
Heartened, he bent down to pick it up, then pushed the door open and walked in.
Out of habit, he looked around. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he set aside his water flask, clothes, and other miscellaneous items, and sat on the wooden stool. Just as he was about to open the envelope, a light knock sounded on the door.
Matthew temporarily placed the envelope on the table and got up to open the door. He saw a young servant carrying a tray, a customary respectful smile on his face.
“Your dinner, sir.”
On the tray was a large portion of golden-brown, crispy roasted chicken leg. The skin was shiny and slightly charred, releasing an enticing aroma of mixed spices and fat.
Alongside it was a small pile of potato cubes and diced carrots pan-fried in butter. They were slightly crispy on the edges, soft on the inside, and infused with a light hint of herbs and garlic.
The staple was two thick slices of rye bread, with a crispy crust and a soft interior.
The soup was today's special thick vegetable stew, served in a clay bowl. Beans, onions, and minced meat were faintly visible through the rising steam. Finally, there was a small dish of washed seasonal berries placed on the side as a garnish.
“Please enjoy your meal.”
The servant carefully set the tray on the table, bowed, and withdrew.
Matthew closed the door again. His gaze lingered on the sumptuous meal for a moment, and he murmured:
“Now this is living.”
Then he turned his attention to the kraft paper envelope on the table.
He sat down and slid the tray slightly to the side to make some room. Picking up his fork with his left hand, he speared a piece of potato and popped it into his mouth, while his right hand unraveled the string on the envelope.
Inside the envelope were two documents: a neatly folded letter written in tidy handwriting, and two pages of detailed notes.
He unfolded the letter. It was written by Porter. The handwriting was free and easy, yet carried a hint of a merchant's slickness, and the tone was as warm as always:
Brother Matthew, I hope you've been well!
I've found some leads on the No. 7 Courtyard on Shizhong Road that you asked me to look into last time.
The address has been confirmed. It's located near the Old Artisan Street in the southwestern part of the inner city's western district. The area is quiet, mostly inhabited by small to mid-sized merchants and retired officials.
The current owner of the courtyard is a woman named Georgia, who has a daughter with her.
The two of them lead a normal life. Their interactions with neighbors are standard, and there is nothing unusual about their daily routine.
As for Georgia herself, I couldn't find a clear occupation. However, according to the observations of the surrounding neighbors, men are often seen entering and leaving the courtyard at regular intervals. Consequently, there are rumors in the neighborhood suspecting that she might be a kept mistress.
This is all the basic information we have for now. If you have other needs or if there are further developments, feel free to contact me anytime.
Porter.
Matthew nodded and folded the letter, setting it aside.
Although the information provided by Porter wasn't highly detailed, the basic outline was clear—a woman with a daughter, suspected of being a kept mistress, living a regular life with no unusual background.
This was actually quite good news compared to his worst previous assumptions.
This Georgia is probably Nathan's wife... and that man is likely Nathan, who's wandering outside.
He continued eating while using his right hand to open the stack of notes.
The handwriting on the notes was different from Porter's letter. It was neater and more restrained, clearly an intelligence summary that had been systematically organized.
It detailed the mother and daughter's daily routines, additional information regarding neighborhood reputation, and a preliminary risk assessment.
...
...
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