Signature Skills

Liang Yixin held a short spear and drove it into Lin Shaocong's back.

Zhang Laifu felt a jolt but no pain. Luckily, Old Liang had held back. He was afraid Lin Shaocong and Zhang Laifu would roll straight down the mountain, so the thrust had not pierced Lin Shaocong's body.

Lin Shaocong said quietly to Zhang Laifu, "Fall down."

Fall down?

That was easier said than done.

The slope ahead was so steep it was hard to stand on. If he fell forward, he would roll straight down the mountainside.

Falling backward was no good either. It defied the laws of physics, and with a willow branch stuck in Lin Shaocong's back, landing that way might turn him into a candied hawthorn skewer.

Zhang Laifu chose the best angle he could and fell onto his side.

Old Liang smiled. Had that fall been real or fake?

It made no difference. He pulled down several more willow branches, stripped them with his hands, then bent the switches, wove them through one another, and pulled them tight, repeating the motions.

The switches wound around Old Liang's fingers like snakes. Zhang Laifu could not make out his technique; he only saw the switches become a flat disk, whose edges curled upward and rapidly grew into sides.

What was a disk with sides?

Lin Shaocong glanced at Old Liang from the corner of his eye and whispered, "He's a Willow Weaver. Whatever you do, don't let him trap you under it."

A Willow Weaver was a Craftsman who made everyday goods from willow switches and branches, one of the three hundred and sixty trades.

Before Lin Shaocong finished speaking, Old Liang had woven a willow basket and thrown it toward Zhang Laifu and Lin Shaocong.

The basket was not large or fast, but it was hard to dodge. No matter which way Zhang Laifu moved, it hovered over his head.

With no other choice, Zhang Laifu shook Lin Shaocong off his back.

Freed of that weight, Zhang Laifu dodged the basket, but Lin Shaocong was trapped beneath it.

Through the gaps in the weave, Zhang Laifu could see Lin Shaocong curled up inside.

The Willow Weaver's signature skill—the Bone-Locking Basket!

Lin Shaocong was still struggling inside. Old Liang tightened his five fingers into a fist. The willow switches slid back and forth, and the entire basket contracted.

Liang Yixin called out, "Young Master Lin, stop moving. The more you struggle, the more you'll suffer."

Lin Shaocong went still. Old Liang turned to Zhang Laifu.

"Laifu, this scene is over. Come back to the Hostage House with me for the next act."

Zhang Laifu got up and ran. Old Liang turned, tore off a willow switch, stripped away its bark, and snapped it at him.

This was a Willow Weaver's basic technique, the Willow Whip. With Old Liang's skill, a single hit would break Zhang Laifu's bones.

Zhang Laifu stumbled along the slope, his feet repeatedly slipping. Somehow, through agility and luck, he dodged the lash.

Old Liang caught up in two strides and swept the switch toward his waist.

A strike at waist height was terribly hard to dodge. Zhang Laifu could not jump high enough, and the slope was too steep to crouch on.

With the Willow Whip about to catch him, Zhang Laifu simply sat down on the slope.

He dodged again, but sitting down was easy. Getting back up would take longer.

Old Liang raised the switch for another blow, and Zhang Laifu had no idea how to evade it.

The switch rose over his head, about to strike Zhang Laifu, when Old Liang's gaze suddenly froze. His right hand, still holding the switch, slowly dropped.

He seemed to be hurt, but Zhang Laifu could not see where.

Old Liang roared, "Who? Who did that?"

He stared at the willow basket in shock.

Lin Shaocong was inside it. He could not get out, much less attack from within. This was the Willow Weaver's signature skill, and it had already caught him. Old Liang was certain Lin Shaocong could not escape.

If it was not Lin Shaocong in the basket, who had attacked? Was someone else here?

Old Liang turned to look behind him.

As Old Liang turned, Zhang Laifu saw the back of his head.

A clay dagger was lodged in the back of Old Liang's head.

Its blade had sunk entirely into his skull. Only the hilt remained outside, still slowly writhing.

On the slope, at the spot where Lin Shaocong had stood earlier, Lin Shaocong pushed himself up with both hands and climbed out of the mud.

Lin Shaocong had thrown the dagger, lodging it in the back of Old Liang's head.

Was Lin Shaocong not inside the basket?

If Lin Shaocong was in the mud, then who was in the willow basket?

Old Liang could not work out what craft Lin Shaocong had used. With a dagger stuck in the back of his head, his thoughts were not particularly clear.

Lin Shaocong had expended too much strength to maintain his signature skill. There was no longer any need for the disguise, either.

The false "Lin Shaocong" inside the basket grew increasingly limp, and a little mud began to seep through the gaps.

There was a clay figure inside!

A clay figure with Lin Shaocong's exact build and face!

Old Liang finally understood. "You're a clay-figure maker..."

Clay-figure makers, also called clay-doll makers, sold their figures from pushcarts. It was one of the three hundred and sixty trades.

Lin Shaocong nodded. "That's right. I make clay figures. The founder of our craft was surnamed Zhang."

He had identified his lineage: Clay Figure Zhang was the founder of the clay-figure makers' trade.

Liang Yixin looked back at Zhang Laifu and finally understood part of what had happened. The two of them had set a trap for him.

Even so, Old Liang could not understand how, after so many years of scraping by in the martial world, he had been outwitted by these two fools.

When had Lin Shaocong used his signature skill?

Had it been when Liang first spotted them at Cripple Slope?

Old Liang remembered something.

Back then, Lin Shaocong had climbed down from Zhang Laifu's back before he spoke.

Why had he insisted on getting down?

Because there was mud on the ground. He had needed an opportunity to use his signature skill.

The person who climbed down had been Lin Shaocong himself. The one Zhang Laifu picked up again was a clay figure.

Zhang Laifu had run ahead carrying the figure, drawing Old Liang's attention, while the real Lin Shaocong had already slipped into the mud.

It was the clay-figure maker's signature skill, Mud Body Shedding.

But that skill was not easy to use.

First, Lin Shaocong had to quickly make a figure that matched his build. Then he had to switch places with it without anyone noticing. How difficult was that?

The fact that Lin Shaocong had performed the skill so quickly proved his craftsmanship far surpassed Old Liang's.

Yet when they had first abducted him, he had not resisted at all.

Old Liang shook his head slightly. "That makes no sense. Why didn't you fight when we caught you?"

Lin Shaocong wiped mud from his face. "Because Song Yongchang was there. I couldn't beat him."

Old Liang still did not understand. "You couldn't beat him, so you didn't even try?"

Lin Shaocong truly had not struck a single blow. "If I couldn't win, why fight? What good would one more blow do? What if you lost control and beat me to death?"

Old Liang shook his head. "We weren't going to kill you. We wanted you alive."

Lin Shaocong shook his head too. "You wanted to catch a fool. If I'd fought, would you still have taken me for one? Would you have let me live?

"Even if you hadn't killed me, would you have let your guard down around me? Would I have been able to escape?"

Old Liang stared at Lin Shaocong in confusion. Was he a pampered young master or a man of the martial world?

Whatever he was, Liang had to kill him now.

Old Liang charged with the willow switch in hand.

He was twenty paces from Lin Shaocong. With his bad legs, Lin Shaocong could not get away. Old Liang needed to run only a dozen or so paces before his switch could reach him.

One blow might kill Lin Shaocong.

Lin Shaocong grew anxious. The clay dagger he had made was still churning inside the back of Old Liang's skull, but Old Liang was far harder to kill than he had imagined.

He shaped another dagger from the mud on the ground and hurled it at Old Liang's forehead. Old Liang swung his switch and shattered it.

This mud was nowhere near as good as the clay Lin Shaocong had carefully selected. He gave up making daggers and simply rolled the mud into balls, flinging them at Old Liang.

The mud balls left Old Liang bloodied and battered, but he kept charging. He had only one thought left: even if it cost him his life, he had to kill Lin Shaocong.

Lin Shaocong would surely find that Bowl. As a Craftsman, he would recognize its value.

If Lin Shaocong lived and the Bowl came to light, Second Master would be implicated.

Liang could no longer recall anything else. With a dagger lodged in his brain, his thoughts were far from clear.

Less than ten paces remained between Old Liang and Lin Shaocong, and Lin Shaocong began to panic.

His craftsmanship surpassed Old Liang's, but his legs were impaired. In close combat, he would be at a terrible disadvantage.

As Lin Shaocong searched for a way out, Old Liang suddenly staggered. The willow switch fell from his hand.

After two more steps, Old Liang's legs gave way, and he collapsed on the slope.

Lin Shaocong saw another dagger in the back of Old Liang's head. He had made that one from clay too, then given it to Zhang Laifu.

From behind Old Liang, Zhang Laifu had thrown it at the back of his head. He had no great throwing skill; only the Animus within the clay had guided the dagger so accurately.

Old Liang lay facedown on the slope. He twitched a few times, then went still.

Zhang Laifu stood silently beside Old Liang for a long while.

Lin Shaocong did not know what Zhang Laifu meant to do. He worried Zhang Laifu was about to lose his mind.

If a fool went mad as well, was there any hope for him?

Zhang Laifu crouched, pulled both clay daggers from the back of Liang's head, handed one to Lin Shaocong, and tucked the other into his own clothes.

"Good props," Zhang Laifu said approvingly.

Lin Shaocong let out a long breath. Worried that Old Liang's body might roll down the mountain, he pushed the mud around him toward it.

The mud piled up at his gestures and swiftly crept toward Old Liang. Soon it enveloped his body.

The body rolled within the mud until it disappeared completely. Before long, a clump of willow fluff rose to the surface.

Lin Shaocong crawled over, lifted the fluff from the mud, and cradled it carefully in his palm. He looked at Zhang Laifu. "Don't be afraid. It's all special effects."

Zhang Laifu got up from the ground and nodded. "Good special effects."

Lin Shaocong looked back at the mud. "A man of the martial world dying in the earth... I suppose he's returned to his roots."

Zhang Laifu nodded again. "A good resting place."

Holding the clump of willow fluff, Lin Shaocong asked Zhang Laifu, "This is Craft Essence. It's very precious. Do you want it?"

"No." Zhang Laifu did not know what Craft Essence was.

Lin Shaocong tucked the fluff into his clothes. "I won't take advantage of you. He hid something in one of those willow trees earlier. Whatever it is, it's yours."

P.S. Which is more precious, the Craft Essence or the Bowl?

Thanks to patron Star Dream Duke and patron Jetaime for their generous support of this work.