Chapter 14

Liu Mao had a chaotic nightmare. In it, his nephew Ma San lay in a pool of blood. The killer, Lion Hound Luo Chengye, first looked panicked, then shouted that a violent mob was resisting the law and summoned his Unworthy Men to drag the dying Ma San off the ground.

The dozen or so retainers beside him could only stand by helplessly. The authorities were making an arrest and enforcing the law; however fierce they were, they could not openly resist, or it would amount to rebellion. Half an hour later, Ma San died on the road to the County Yamen.

At Ma San's funeral, Liu Mao cut his palm and swore a blood oath to avenge his nephew. With that, he reached an agreement with the elders and took over their entire operation in Xiagui County.

Luo Chengye was a rabid dog, plainly a man of the martial world who used its methods, yet his official position as Unworthy Marshal let him straddle both sides of the law and do whatever he pleased. Liu Mao put considerable thought into his revenge. He had idlers lure Luo Chengye into brothels and gambling houses for amusement and observe his tastes, finally deciding to drag him under through gambling.

Within a year, Luo Chengye had amassed enormous debts. He could refuse to repay Underworld money, but wealthy households with standing were not so easily brushed aside. The people he had threatened and cajoled into lending him large sums repeatedly reported him to the County Yamen, giving his superiors endless headaches. His legitimate position was tottering. Once he lost the title of Unworthy Marshal, he would be no different from any outlaw of the martial world. All it needed was one last straw, and revenge would be within reach.

Who could have imagined that a pearl theft and murder would suddenly occur in Xiagui County? Luo Chengye, already at death's door, went ahead to report for roll call before the King of Hell, but Liu Mao himself sank into an even deeper mire. In the all-encompassing manhunt, every shady business under his control was exposed and destroyed. Had it merely been a loss of money, he could have gritted his teeth, weathered the storm, and risen again.

But a few days later, his own son Liu Ping was arrested and was now enduring torture in the Prison Ward. Every mangled, bloody figure in his nightmares became his son instead.

Could that desperate last resort get Liu Ping out of the County Yamen alive?...

Old men slept lightly. Liu Mao turned over and woke again. Clutching his chest, he gave a few dry coughs and called for the maid warming his feet to bring him water, but no one answered.

"Worthless sluts! Have you all slept yourselves dead?"

He shouted twice more, loud enough, he reckoned, to be heard even in the courtyard, but still no one answered. Furious, Liu Mao climbed up and kicked hard at the maid sleeping on the footstool. She rolled onto the floor as though unconscious.

His anger gradually turned to alarm and suspicion. He sprang up, drew the ring-pommeled saber beside his bed, and strode barefoot to the door, only to see the retainers on night watch sprawled every which way across the courtyard, their fate unknown.

Among those rigid bodies strewn across the ground, a lean figure in green stood with an aloof, striking bearing, silently watching him. All was still. Cold white moonlight spilled down, but the man stood with his back to the moon, his face half-lit and half-shadowed, impossible to make out clearly. Liu Mao glimpsed only sharp brows and eyes. He was unexpectedly young, like a boy who had only just grown to his full height.

The intruder was barehanded and carried no weapon, yet Liu Mao's alarm instantly turned to icy terror. He felt his hand trembling around the saber's hilt, his innards contracting into a tight knot of fear.

"Who are you?!"

"Sun Family Inn. Green-Clothed Slave." The man in green repeated the contents of the throwing-knife message, word by word.

What Liu Mao feared most had happened after all. Instinctively, he lied. "It wasn't me... we weren't the ones who reported you!"

The man in green gave a contemptuous laugh. "Admit it or not, I'm no man of the authorities. I don't need your signed confession. You broke the rules of our world and fingered me. You should have expected me to come knocking."

Liu Mao felt the cold sweat on his back soaking through his inner robe. He thought of Liu Ping in prison, of his old warhorse's ambition to gallop on, of his pride in having schemed Luo Chengye into a dead end... yet all of it seemed destined to end tonight.

His mouth dry, the old man explained hoarsely, "The yamen arrested my son and tortured him for a confession... I didn't mean to... I had no choice... I only wanted to buy some time..."

The man in green's voice was cold as ice striking jade. "Everyone has their troubles. You knew how vicious and ruthless the yamen could be, yet never considered what would happen to the people around me if you dragged them into it."

The image of that noble young girl at the Sun Family Inn flashed through Liu Mao's mind. The breath of death crept over his limbs like vines, leaving him unable to move. One wrong step led to another. Perhaps he should not have spoken so vaguely when he made his report, but named the Green-Robed Wanderer outright. Perhaps that might have left him a thread of hope.

"Someone spoke a good word for you, so I won't take your head. Kill yourself and keep your corpse whole."

The man in green offered that sole mercy like a final command from an emissary of the underworld. Liu Mao knew he could not escape death tonight. If he raised his saber to fight, he would only end with his head severed from his body. Stiffly, he lifted the ring-pommeled saber and set it against his throat.

A hiss of spraying blood passed like a faint breeze. A moment later, the courtyard of the Liu Residence returned to its former silence.

When Yang Xingjian woke that morning, he found several more hairs on his pillow. These past few days, even sleeping with his hair bound and his headcloth on could no longer stem the loss. More than a month of exhausting travel and battles that wrung his brains dry had left this middle-aged scholar, already forty, utterly spent-his white hair grew shorter with every scratch, scarcely able to hold a hairpin.

Yang Xingjian had never imagined that, after finally escaping that green-clothed villain and rescuing the princess, he would be implicated by him again and confined in the Xiagui magistrate's home. Every so often came another nonviolent interrogation; they even brought out something as bloody as a severed head to frighten the princess. Several times, Yang Xingjian had tried to write to Prince Shao for help, only for Bao Lang to stop him each time. Youzhou was a wild frontier land; distant water could not quench a nearby thirst.

The man in green had escaped. Yang Xingjian surmised that Bao Lang's first reason for keeping the two of them here was to make him share the blame for losing Cui Keyong's treasure. The second was the princess herself.

The princess was currently quite interested in solving the case, naively believing that solving the pearl theft and murder would free her from confinement. Yang Xingjian could only smile bitterly. Raised deep within the palace, she knew nothing of the world and failed to notice how naked Bao Lang's gaze had become when he looked at her.

Human hearts were treacherous. A beautiful girl deprived of imperial protection was like a child parading through the market with a precious jewel in hand. No sooner had she escaped a wicked servant's threats than an overbearing Defense Commissioner appeared. He was merely a petty official in green, without the purple and vermilion robes of high office, and he could not reach his lord. How was he to protect the princess and get her out of this predicament?

Against the likes of Wu Zhiyuan, his silver tongue could always muddy the waters. But against a hard-handed military man like Bao Lang, Yang Xingjian felt utterly powerless.

The Noble Consort was dead, and the person Prince Shao treasured most was this little sister. Bringing her home safe and sound would be an extraordinary service. If fresh trouble befell her after she had escaped death, he need never return to Prince Shao's Residence for the rest of his life.

The more he thought, the more hopeless he felt. Yang Xingjian brushed the fallen hairs from his shoulders, sighed, and straightened his headcloth. Only after checking in the mirror that he looked dignified did he leave the bedroom with heavy steps. Then he saw the two manservants Wu Zhiyuan had sent slumped on the floor, one seated and one lying down, both unconscious.

Yang Xingjian went pale with fright. Summoning his courage, he touched them; their skin was still warm. He immediately gathered up his robe and raced upstairs, where he found the two maids attending the princess collapsed in the corridor as well. His heart thundered like a startled horse. He did not know whether the princess had already met with disaster.

"Princess... Fang Xie! Fang Xie! Fang Xie!"

His voice cracking and trembling, Yang Xingjian shouted his daughter's name in panic as he rushed toward the bedroom ahead. With no time to knock, he rudely barged through the door. Baozhu was fully dressed, sitting on the bed and arranging her hair before a bronze mirror, while that green-clothed villain sat on the floor, watching him smugly.

At the sight, an overwhelming sense of helplessness surged over him. Yang Xingjian could not catch his breath and nearly fainted. Tigers and wolves surrounded them. Bao Lang had yet to be dealt with, and now this man in green had returned! His legs weakened beneath him, and he slowly leaned against the doorframe. In his daze, he felt a few strands fall even from the fine beard he took such pride in.

"Registrar Yang is here."

Baozhu was not surprised to see him so distraught. She turned and glared fiercely at Wei Xun. "Apologize to the registrar at once. Though it was a misunderstanding on both sides, you put him through misery."

Wei Xun curled his lip. Without getting up, he casually cupped his hands. "Wei the Eldest was discourteous."

Deeply dissatisfied with his slovenly manner, Baozhu scolded him. "Sit up straight and say it properly!"

Only then did Wei Xun reluctantly straighten his back and cup his hands in apology. "I treated you discourteously before. I feel deeply ashamed." After a moment's thought, he added, "While I was away, I had you to thank for protecting Ninth Lady."

He secretly counted himself fortunate that a moment's impulse had made him spare Yang Xingjian's life. Otherwise, by the time he recovered and returned, Baozhu would likely have been suffering torture in the Prison Ward rather than staying in the magistrate's private residence.

He also reflected that, though this middle-aged man was as irritating as a sticking plaster and lacked the strength to truss a chicken, he had not breathed a word of Baozhu's identity despite days of vicious torment. That made him reasonably trustworthy. For now, he could keep him nearby and see.

Yang Xingjian had suffered plenty at Wei Xun's hands. Now he did not know whether to laugh or cry. With an unfocused gaze and a mournful face, he gave a few dry chuckles. The princess's command meant she wanted them to coexist peacefully. Since he lacked the strength to drive this man away, he could only swallow his anger and endure his company.

He was even more astonished inwardly. Though the Reflection Pavilion was Wu Zhiyuan's study in his private residence, it still stood within the County Yamen, the seat of power for all Xiagui County. Countless saber-bearing officers went about their duties right next door, yet this man dared come here to pester the princess. Was his skill the source of his audacity, or was there some other reason?

Yang Xingjian watched carefully. Wei Xun looked aloof and proud. Instead of kneeling properly, he sat casually cross-legged on the rush mat before the princess, one arm draped lazily along the edge of her couch. Though he had put away the ferocity he showed when dealing with Yang Xingjian, there was still a faint air of staking out possession.

Yet the princess sounded perfectly assured when she scolded him, with none of the fear of someone under another's control.

Baozhu had already told Yang Xingjian that Wei Xun was a knight-errant of common birth. Yang Xingjian feared Wei Xun's ruthlessness, but also prided himself on his distinguished birth in the Hongnong Yang Clan and had no wish to exchange many words with a commoner. The two disliked each other; when words found no common ground, even half a sentence was too much. After giving their names, they spoke no further.

Wei Xun withdrew his gaze and turned to stare intently at Baozhu as she combed her hair. Such brazenly disrespectful behavior only infuriated Yang Xingjian further. He coughed, but the other man seemed not to hear. He cleared his throat forcefully in warning. Wei Xun turned back. "Are you ill? If you are, hurry outside. Don't pass your sickness to her."

The retort left Yang Xingjian choking on his words.

Without anyone to help, Baozhu simply could not arrange her hair into a bun. She flung down the wooden comb in frustration. "When will those two maids you knocked out wake up? Will they be the same as before?"

Wei Xun said, "Soon. They've only had a deep sleep. They won't remember anything when they wake, and they haven't been harmed."

Yang Xingjian had suffered that trick himself. He smiled bitterly. "Not necessarily. The stiff neck it gave me still hasn't stopped hurting."

Wei Xun chuckled and retorted, "That was my fault. I should have carried the registrar to bed, arranged his pillow, and tucked him under a quilt."

Hearing them about to quarrel, Baozhu cut them off decisively and told Wei Xun, "I want to look at the scene in Luo Chengye's house today and see whether they missed anything. Come fetch me tonight."

Wei Xun asked in surprise, "I heard he died at home. Aren't you afraid of ghosts anymore?"

Baozhu said smugly, "Before Luo Chengye died, he was Xiagui County's Unworthy Marshal and drew an imperial salary. Alive, he was an official of the Li House; dead, he's a ghost official of the Li House. I carry the true dragon's blood. Why should I fear a petty official like him?"

Wei Xun laughed at her twisted reasoning. "The money for going straight really does burn the hand. Alive, he belongs to your family; dead, his ghost belongs to your family too."

Baozhu lifted the corners of her mouth, looking pleased with herself.

Wei Xun nodded his agreement. "All right. I'll come fetch you after sunset."

Hearing the two of them plan a midnight visit to the murder scene in just a few words, Yang Xingjian gaped in alarm and hurried to dissuade her. "Princess, you absolutely must not visit such a bloody, ill-omened place!"

Baozhu said, "Yesterday, Bao Lang insisted I go. He said that since I solved the Millstone-Buried Wife Case, I might as well try Luo Chengye's case. If I have to go out with that pest anyway, I'd rather take a look myself first."

Wei Xun interrupted. "How has he been pestering you?"

Baozhu immediately grew wary. "Don't cause trouble! Bao Lang is Cui Keyong's trusted man. Right now, he has the final say in Xiagui County. He's also an expert with the Horizontal Saber. I hear he's very famous in Xuzhou."

Wei Xun curled his lip in disdain.

Having settled when they would visit Luo Chengye's house, Wei Xun listened closely to the sounds outside, then rose. "They're about to wake. Call them in to do your hair. I'll be going."

Baozhu asked, "What are you going to do?"

Wei Xun smiled. "Visit the Many-Treasures Pagoda. Since everyone under heaven says I stole the pearl, I have to go up there myself. I can't let my status as a suspect go to waste."

Yang Xingjian exclaimed in alarm, "But it's broad daylight!"

Wei Xun said proudly, "So what?"

A green blur flashed before Yang Xingjian's eyes. Before he could react, Wei Xun had slipped lightly out through the rear window. He hurried over and craned his head outside. In the sunlight, neither on the rooftops nor below could he see so much as a corner of Wei Xun's robe. He truly appeared and vanished like a spirit, coming without a shadow and leaving without a trace.

Alarmed and bewildered, Yang Xingjian kept rubbing his eyes, his beard trembling along with his chin. He wondered whether Wei Xun was even a living man.

Suddenly remembering something, Baozhu asked Yang Xingjian, "Registrar Yang, how much money did you bring? Is it enough for the journey?"

Yang Xingjian was still staring out the window, unable to collect himself. Only after she pressed him repeatedly did he hasten to answer. "When I went to Chang'an, I withdrew a hundred taels of gold from the Persian Money Shop with a voucher."

Baozhu frowned. "So little? Is my brother struggling to make ends meet in Youzhou too?"

Yang Xingjian quickly said, "Not at all. Though His Highness left Chang'an to take up his post on the frontier, he is still an imperial prince. All his expenses are provided for according to the rank of a prince's household. Mainly, I was traveling alone under a concealed identity. I couldn't carry too much, and I feared being robbed by bandits on the road."

Baozhu did a quick calculation. A hundred taels of gold might sound like a shoestring budget, but the actual gold weighed some seven or eight catties. For a civil official carrying it over a long journey, that was indeed rather heavy. This was probably not the limit of what he could withdraw, but the limit of what Yang Xingjian could carry.

Just then, they both heard the maids outside rising and moving about, so they changed their manner of address accordingly.

Yang Xingjian said, "Besides, I truly never imagined at the time that Fang Xie was still alive. This money was only intended for gathering information, not for Fang Xie's travel expenses. Once we reach a major city like Luoyang, I can withdraw more from a money shop."

Baozhu reflected that she had once had hundreds of palace maids and eunuchs at her command, with someone attending carefully to her every movement, whether she walked, sat, or lay down. Now she did not even have anyone nearby to help comb her hair, and she had to concern herself personally with filthy lucre as well. The thought filled her with self-pity.