Gradually, Thomas Reed was taken away more and more frequently. On the ninth day of the second month in the sixth year of Tianshun, he was once again released from prison, and from then on, there was no further trace of him—he neither returned nor was there any news of his death; he simply vanished without a trace.

No one in the Southern Office was willing to tell the truth, so Evelyn Smith went directly to see his immediate superior, Benjamin Foster.

“Who is this Diana Young? All these years, every time it was him who took away Thomas Reed, and the last time, he never returned the prisoner. Moreover, his name rarely appears in other documents.” Evelyn Smith had been transferred to the Jinyiwei for over seven years and had never heard of this person.

Benjamin Foster was silent for a long time before finally saying, “Come see me again tomorrow.”

Benjamin Foster had served as an official in the Jinyiwei for many years, experiencing ups and downs. He had once been a trusted confidant of Emperor Yingzong, and had also lost out in internal struggles and been exiled far away. In the end, he was the victor, controlling the entire Jinyiwei, including both the Northern and Southern Supervision Offices. Even so, there were still some matters beyond his authority.

Benjamin Foster knew Diana Young, and precisely because of this, he needed to seek instructions from someone before daring to reveal the truth to a mere centurion.

When they met again the next day, Benjamin Foster chatted idly with Evelyn Smith for quite some time—nearly half an hour—before finally saying, “His Majesty has known about you for a long time.”

Evelyn Smith lowered his head and did not respond. He had already guessed that the “someone” Benjamin Foster needed to consult could only be the current emperor.

“The Southern Office has been searching for immortals for a long time,” Benjamin Foster continued, sighing. “The Taizu Emperor once sent people to look for the immortal Zhang Sanfeng, granted him several titles, and even built palaces and temples for him. When the Yongle Emperor ascended the throne, he too sent people to search the famous mountains and rivers of the realm, and in his later years entrusted the task of seeking immortals to the Southern Office. Unfortunately, to this day, not a single true immortal has been found.”

Evelyn Smith still did not reply, because he felt the reason was very simple—so simple that no one was willing to admit it.

“The late Emperor Yingzong believed that sincerity could move even metal and stone. When he fell into the hands of the northern barbarians, I was the only one by his side. Even in the most perilous times, the late emperor never lost heart, firmly believing he was the true Son of Heaven and that divine spirits would protect him. In the end, the whole world saw it: not only did the late emperor return safely to the capital, but he even regained his throne. If there were no divine intervention, how could that have been possible?”

Evelyn Smith remained silent, though in his heart he wanted to ask: if there truly was divine intervention, why did it only help Yingzong regain the throne, but cause the death of the loyal minister Yu Qian, who defended Beijing?

“When you were transferred to the Northern Office of the Jinyiwei, it was partly because your family had once done a favor for the Southern Palace, and partly to weed out false immortals. But—” Benjamin Foster gave a wry smile, “over these years, you’ve done too good a job; not a single immortal has been left behind.”

This was both a merit and a fault, which was why Evelyn Smith had always remained a centurion, never promoted even an inch.

“The emperor possesses all under heaven—why must he seek immortals and give traitors an opportunity?” Evelyn Smith asked.

“Immortality.” Benjamin Foster replied with just two words, making it perfectly clear. “But things have changed. The late emperor believed devoutly in the spirits, yet died before reaching forty. The current emperor thinks that there must be immortals in the world, but that immortals will not associate with mortals. Seeking them is futile, so it’s better not to seek at all.”

Just one step away, and the emperor would admit that there are no immortals in the world at all. Evelyn Smith could not ask for more. “His Majesty is wise.”

Benjamin Foster picked up a letter from the table. “Go to Guangxi. They are suppressing rebels there. Aside from military matters, you have full authority.”

Eleven

Diana Young was a eunuch in his forties. After reading the emperor’s handwritten edict, he smiled, then respectfully returned the letter to its owner with both hands, saying, “From now on, Centurion, you are my new superior. My apologies.”

Diana Young had a refined appearance, no beard under his chin, which made him look even younger. Although he cupped his hands and smiled, there was little real respect in his manner.

“I want Thomas Reed.” Evelyn Smith had traveled thousands of miles from the capital to Guangxi, and his target was not a eunuch.

“What a pity, sir, you’ve come too late. Thomas Reed—has already become an immortal.”

“When? Where?”

“More than ten days ago, when the troops broke through the rebel stronghold at Dateng Gorge, Thomas Reed went deep with the army and, unfortunately, was killed.”

Evelyn Smith did not believe a single word. “You took Thomas Reed from the Southern Office of the Jinyiwei the year before last and never returned him.”

“Hmm, these past two years we’ve been traveling all over, focused on our work, with no chance to return to the capital. But we reported everything—didn’t you see it, Centurion?”

“There’s no record in the Southern Office.”

“Then it must be in the palace.” Diana Young looked back at Evelyn Smith, still smiling, completely unafraid, and not caring whether the other believed him or not.

“Alive, I want to see the man; dead, I want to see the corpse.” Evelyn Smith understood that he had met his match.

Twelve

This was less a corpse than a charred log—black from head to toe, with no trace of its original appearance.

“This is Thomas Reed?” Evelyn Smith asked.

“It is. And he died in a very strange way. The fire that burned Thomas Reed was no ordinary fire, but divine fire.”

“Divine fire?”

“Dozens of soldiers witnessed it with their own eyes. Thomas Reed spontaneously combusted, and within a hundred paces, there was absolutely no open flame.”

Evelyn Smith glanced at Diana Young. “You’d better be careful. The current emperor doesn’t believe in this sort of thing.”

“I only tell the truth, whether it’s believed or not is not my concern.”

Evelyn Smith snorted, turned, and walked out.

“Sir Smith,” Diana Young called out, “you should be careful too. When the late emperor first ascended the throne, he didn’t believe in spirits either. Two years later, he had no choice but to believe.”