Chapter 17

Yang Xingjian supported Baozhu as they slowly made their way back to the second-floor bedroom, pausing with every step at an invalid's pace. Only after shutting the door did he breathe a sigh of relief. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he whispered, "Ah, that brute relies on Cui Keyong's power to snap indiscriminately at officials appointed by the court. He really is troublesome."

Baozhu was equally indignant. She was about to complain to Yang Xingjian about Bao Lang's disrespectful words when she suddenly noticed someone standing in a shadowy corner. She shuddered in fright, then looked closer and saw it was Wei Xun. He had stood there since the two of them entered, making no attempt to hide, yet somehow he gave off no trace of a living presence. Neither she nor Yang Xingjian had noticed him, and the discovery sent both their hearts pounding.

Only when Wei Xun saw that they had finally noticed him did he tell Baozhu expressionlessly, "Don't see that man again."

Is that something I can avoid just because I want to? Baozhu frowned. "And what brilliant idea do you have now?"

Wei Xun said bluntly, "I don't like the look of him."

Baozhu sighed. "You saw him just now? Ah, what an overbearing bastard. He even said he would bring doctors to take my pulse. Pretending to be ill won't work then. What are we going to do?"

Hearing that she also found Bao Lang thoroughly annoying, Wei Xun immediately felt much more at ease. "Just lie there and keep pretending," he said gently. "I'll handle this."

Yang Xingjian said, "He refused to hand over that note, just as we expected. Who knows what sinister scheme he has that cannot bear the light of day?"

Wei Xun said, "That's easy enough. I can get it."

Baozhu said sternly, "Listen to me. You must not confront him head-on. Even if you can beat him, that would still be openly resisting the law and committing rebellion!"

Wei Xun smiled and agreed. "Yes, yes, Wei Da understands. You have the true dragon bloodline. Surely obeying you cannot count as rebellion?"

Only then did Baozhu nod in satisfaction.

Watching from the side, Yang Xingjian reflected that over these past two days, he had seen this man with the princess firsthand, and she had the final say in everything. Aside from the carefree disregard for minor formalities common among people of the martial world, he had never seen Wei Xun dare defy his superior. He could not be mentioned in the same breath as Bao Lang, with his relentlessly domineering manner. Yang Xingjian wondered whether this really had been a misunderstanding, and the man was not a wicked servant after all.

That afternoon, Bao Lang did indeed invite five or six of the city's most respected doctors to the County Yamen's private residence to examine Lady Fang Xie.

Looking at the roomful of doctors, Yang Xingjian sneered. "A woman of our Hongnong Yang Clan is not someone every country bumpkin may see. Choose the most capable among you first, then send him upstairs to examine my daughter. What propriety is there in all this commotion?"

The doctors exchanged modest disclaimers, each trying to defer to another. None wanted to take this patient. After all, even the county magistrate Wu Zhiyuan wore an ingratiating smile before this green-robed official. If they made the slightest mistake, they might have to close their practices for good, never to recover.

In the end, they selected Doctor Wu, the most senior among them, who shared Wu Zhiyuan's surname. The old man had practiced medicine in the city for over forty years and possessed extensive experience. Filled with apprehension, he followed Yang Xingjian upstairs into Lady Fang Xie's bedchamber.

The Reflection Pavilion had originally been Wu Zhiyuan's study, so there was nothing particularly feminine about its furnishings. Yet a faint, delicate fragrance greeted him as soon as the door opened. Curtains had been drawn around the bed, concealing every trace of its occupant, as was customary when women of great households received physicians. Having heard that this lady of the Yang Clan held an exceedingly exalted status, no one intended to steal a glimpse of her face.

Yang Xingjian parted the curtains slightly, leaned inside to give a few instructions, then closed them again. A moment later, a hand covered with a silk handkerchief emerged beneath them. Doctor Wu dared not inspect it closely, but muttered inwardly, This young lady has a very fair wrist, but her hand is certainly not small. It is almost a man's size.

The moment he felt the pulse, however, Doctor Wu received a shock. It was as faint as a gossamer thread, faltering between existence and nothingness-the pulse of someone at death's door. For anyone with such a pulse, there was no turning back the heavens. At most, a strong decoction of aged ginseng might sustain one last breath, allowing the patient, with luck, to utter a few final words and settle their affairs.

Yang Xingjian looked at him hopefully. "How is my daughter's condition?"

Doctor Wu broke into a cold sweat. Not daring to tell him plainly, he hastily rose. "I am ashamed, deeply ashamed. My medical skill is shallow, and I can do nothing. Please ask one of my colleagues downstairs to examine her." With that, he covered his head with his sleeve and went downstairs.

Doctor Liang was sent up second. He nervously laid his fingers on the wrist, then thought after a moment, Thank goodness. This woman's illness is stubborn and lingering, but careful treatment can cure it. Why was old Wu so cautious? Smiling, he told Yang Xingjian, "Your daughter's spleen and stomach are out of balance, and her qi and blood are severely depleted. Has she disliked eating since childhood?" He continued his diagnosis unhurriedly. "Hmm... there is also severe cold in the womb. Without proper treatment, she may find it difficult to bear children."

Yang Xingjian's expression hardened, and he rounded on him. "What cold in the womb? Your diagnosis is utterly wrong! Get downstairs!"

Seeing two respected senior physicians return defeated, the third, Doctor Zhang, decided he must steer the middle course. He would pronounce the condition neither good nor bad, remain vague, and prescribe a restorative formula suitable for anyone, man or woman, old or young. He sought no merit, only freedom from blame.

But when he placed his fingers on the wrist, he could not find the slightest pulse anywhere. The patient's breath had ceased; she was thoroughly dead. Bewildered and doubtful, he forced himself to remain calm. Concealing his movement with his sleeve, he lightly touched the portion of the patient's wrist left uncovered by the handkerchief with his little finger. The skin was icy cold, without a trace of warmth, further confirming the absence of a pulse. Terror seized him at once. His entire body stiffened, and he had no idea what to do.

Just as Doctor Zhang stood drenched in cold sweat, unable to advance or retreat, a woman's soft, delicate, kittenlike laugh suddenly sounded from behind the layers of curtains. Immediately afterward, the pulse that had long ceased sprang back to life with extraordinary strength and vigor. Unable to explain such a thing, Doctor Zhang could only assume the corpse had risen. He screamed, fell to the floor, and scrambled out of the room on hands and knees.

Hidden behind the curtains, Baozhu suppressed her laughter so hard that she curled into a trembling ball. Both hands covered her mouth, and her cheeks flushed red, yet she still could not keep a laugh from escaping.

Wei Xun glanced at her, then continued holding out his arm with perfect seriousness, waiting for the next doctor to take his pulse. Mischievous amusement gleamed in his narrow eyes. His power had now recovered to seventy or eighty percent, and his true qi flowed freely throughout his body. Temporarily controlling the strength of his pulse was effortless. Having also read several medical texts and learned a little of their principles, he had been seized by an impish mood and devised all manner of tricks to run the doctors in circles.

Yet hearing that soft laugh had somehow stirred his heart. He had failed to prevent it from skipping a beat, exposing a flaw and spoiling his original plan-an unexpected turn.

Yang Xingjian, too, was holding back his laughter until his insides hurt. He marveled at the strange methods of extraordinary people from the martial world, and how a young man's disposition could develop such tricks still further. As long as they were not inflicted on his own old head, there was an endless supply of entertainment to watch.

Apart from the one who had fled in terror on the spot, five of Xiagui County's finest doctors argued in a tangled uproar. Every diagnosis was entirely different, a thousand miles apart. After sarcastically comparing the pulses each had felt, they all realized something was wrong. The more they considered it, the more their hair stood on end. One after another, they humbly declared their medical skill too poor for them to have the face to treat a person of such distinction at the County Yamen, and fled.

Seeing that the atmosphere was just right, Yang Xingjian immediately declared that his beloved daughter had dreamed of a white snake coiling around her for three consecutive nights. A snake demon must be tormenting her. He demanded that Wu Zhiyuan immediately hire Buddhist monks and Daoist priests to perform rites, drive out evil, and slay the demon. He hoped to use this excuse to muddy the waters, ideally closing the case on some vague grounds involving ghosts and spirits.

Wu Zhiyuan and Bao Lang hesitated. Everyone had seen Yang Fangxie looking perfectly healthy only days before. Now she had suddenly fallen ill within a day or two, her condition deteriorating so rapidly that even the doctors were helpless. They could hardly avoid suspecting supernatural interference. But the pearl theft had already become too public for them to compromise. After discussing it back and forth, they agreed only to invite Abbot Liaoru of the Lotus Flower Temple to recite a passage from the Diamond Sutra and dispel the ill fortune.

Rumors of a snake demon's mischief had already spread widely throughout the city. After this incident, not a single servant in Wu Zhiyuan's private residence would attend the Reflection Pavilion. Even when the mistress threatened them with beatings, they stubbornly refused. Wu Zhiyuan could only station two constables whose birth charts were resistant to evil next door to the Reflection Pavilion, serving as guards to prevent father and daughter from escaping.

This left Baozhu and the others freer than ever. When discussing their plans, they no longer needed to fear servants eavesdropping or spying from behind the door. Since Wei Xun had recovered and returned, Baozhu felt she had someone to rely on. Though still confined in the Reflection Pavilion, she was no longer as helpless or as much at others' mercy as she had been at first. Brimming with ambition, she set about solving the pearl theft and murder case.

That night, Wei Xun went out and returned the stolen evidence-the Seven-Treasure Glazed-Glass-Lacquer Box-to its original place in the Many-Treasures Pagoda. Two hours later, he returned and told Baozhu, "I have a lead on Luo Chengye. Do you still want to take a look? If you're tired and don't want to move, I'll simply go deal with him. He faked his death to escape and made me take the blame. Now that I've found his hiding place, I won't let this grudge survive the night."

Baozhu hurriedly stopped him. "No! I've followed this case from the very beginning. If you intervene halfway through and simply kill him, without letting the truth become public, what would be the point?"

Wei Xun smiled. "I thought you wouldn't leave it at that. Change your clothes, then, and let's go."

Without needing his reminder, Baozhu went to change into Hu Garments that allowed her to move easily. Once again deprived of a maid's service, she could only braid her long hair herself. This time, however, she did not intend to let Wei Xun carry her about like a kitten or puppy.

"Move aside. I'll get down myself."

Lifting her chin, Baozhu sent Wei Xun aside, gripped the windowsill with both hands, and slowly lowered herself. Terrified that she would fall, Yang Xingjian stood by the window rubbing his hands, his heart pounding. Wei Xun had no idea how he had offended her. He could only stand below to catch her in case her foot slipped and she fell all the way down.

Taking the bow and arrows, the two again headed toward the Lotus Flower Temple. Baozhu asked in surprise, "Luo Chengye really hid right next door to his own house? So close! What nerve. How did no one recognize him?"

Wei Xun said, "He is indeed a bold and meticulous fellow. If he hadn't exposed a flaw by disposing of the head, I wouldn't have found him either. As for why no one recognized Luo Chengye's appearance, you'll understand soon."

Officers patrolled outside the Lotus Flower Temple's walls even at night. Wei Xun could come and go freely himself, but he did not want to risk bringing Baozhu along. He had already scouted an empty house nearby whose roof offered a distant view over the entire monastery. When they reached its wall, Baozhu still stubbornly refused his help. Helpless, Wei Xun could only crouch and let her step on his shoulders to climb onto the roof. They hid behind the high ridge and waited for Luo Chengye to appear.

Baozhu tested the tension of the bowstring and made all her preparations, then asked softly, "Where is Thirteenth Son?"

Wei Xun replied, "With Luo Chengye."

Baozhu froze. An idea flashed through her mind, and she asked in astonishment, "Could he have shaved off his beard and hair to disguise himself as a traveling monk?!"

Seeing her guess it from a single hint, Wei Xun nodded, admiration in his eyes. "If you hadn't mentioned the python tattoo on that headless corpse, I wouldn't have thought to tell Thirteenth Son to look for that feature. Luo Chengye disguised himself as a traveling monk lodging here from elsewhere and stayed with Thirteenth Son and the others. They're all outsiders. As long as he stayed in the monks' quarters, no one nearby would recognize Xiagui County's Unworthy Marshal with his appearance so drastically changed."

Baozhu was deeply shaken. She had never expected Luo Chengye to possess such nerve and cunning. No one would have guessed that he had faked his death and hidden in the Lotus Flower Temple, the very site of the major crime-right beneath the authorities' noses.

She asked, "The headless corpse had the same tattoo as Luo Chengye. Was he one of his old outlaw companions?"

Wei Xun nodded and offered his conjecture. "Presumably. That unlucky fellow had already become a monk. Somehow, they met again in Xiagui City and gathered at Luo Chengye's house to drink. Luo Chengye launched a sudden attack, killed him, cut off his head, and took his Monk Register. Then he shaved off his own beard and hair and took refuge in the Lotus Flower Temple. If he hadn't pinned the crime on me, I'd almost praise his courage and resourcefulness. I just don't know whether he planned the whole thing beforehand or came up with it on the spur of the moment after drinking too much."

Baozhu murmured, "No wonder he insisted on cutting off the head, then throwing it into a pot of oil and frying it to charcoal. A monk's head is bald. Even left to rot, it wouldn't grow a single hair. Without treating it that way, anyone would have noticed something suspicious." She then asked Wei Xun, "That day at Luo Chengye's house, you demonstrated how he used the corpse's intestines to climb onto the beam and hide. That means his lightness skill is poor, so presumably he had nothing to do with the pearl theft at the Many-Treasures Pagoda. But who did steal that snake pearl?"

While chatting with Baozhu, Wei Xun kept his eyes on the distant monastery. Before he could answer that question, he suddenly raised a forefinger to his lips for silence and pointed into the Lotus Flower Temple's courtyard. Baozhu quickly drew an arrow and looked where he indicated. Beneath the moonlight, a monk in gray robes carrying a bundle crept along the courtyard wall and into view.

Baozhu's eyesight was excellent. Though the target was far away, she could see every movement the monk made. Calmly extending her arms, she drew the bow and took aim. The arrow flew steadily from her hand, her bearing graceful and striking. It struck the gray-robed monk squarely in the left thigh. With a faint cry of agony, he tumbled to the ground.

Wei Xun voiced his praise, wondering why she had wrapped her sleeves around the backs of her hands while shooting today. If she drew the bow with all her strength, she could probably be even more accurate.

He said regretfully, "Excellent force. A pity you just missed a vital spot."

Baozhu gave him a strange look and said quietly, "I aimed for his leg deliberately. Apart from shooting at a ghost in that haunted house, this is the first time I've hurt someone."

Seeing uncertainty in her eyes, Wei Xun immediately regretted his words. Everyone in his martial lineage trained with the aim of killing an enemy in a single stroke. He had never considered that she was someone who stood clean and untainted in the sunlight, unprepared to stain her hands with blood and bear the weight of a human life. At that thought, his expression grew distracted, and his own heart began to waver.

Seeing the wounded monk struggle to his feet and prepare to keep escaping, Baozhu urgently called to Wei Xun, "Why are you still standing there?!" In her experience of hunting, once the prey had been wounded by an arrow, the rest was the work of the hounds or lynxes. Surely he was not waiting for her to deliver the killing blow to Luo Chengye herself?

Wei Xun shook his head. "I'll be lazy today. Let Thirteenth Son do it."

Baozhu stamped her foot in anxiety. "What on earth are you talking about?!"

Then a small gray figure raced over from the other side of the monastery and threw himself upon the wounded Luo Chengye, grappling with him. Baozhu watched in shock as Thirteenth Son knocked Luo Chengye down again with a few punches and kicks, then briskly dislocated both his shoulders, bringing the fight to a swift end.

Wei Xun urged her, "Let's go. The Lotus Flower Temple will be bustling again soon."

Baozhu still had not recovered from her astonishment. Only after she saw Thirteenth Son bind the injured monk into a cocoon with rope and withdraw unscathed did she reluctantly jump down from the roof and return to the Reflection Pavilion with Wei Xun.

Baozhu slept very poorly that night. Though she had personally solved the headless corpse case and captured Luo Chengye, who had faked his death, she felt no excitement. Instead, deliberately injuring someone for the first time had unsettled her-a feeling none of her archery or riding masters had ever mentioned. As a child, she had certainly dreamed of winning glory on the battlefield like Princess Pingyang, but she had never considered that killing a person was utterly different from hunting an animal.

The next day, news shook all of Xiagui City: Luo Chengye, the Unworthy Marshal, who had long been declared a victim of the pearl theft and murder case, was still alive. He had shaved off his beard and hair, disguised himself as a monk, and hidden in the Lotus Flower Temple until officers on patrol captured him the previous night.

A burly man with a face covered in a thick, curly beard looked utterly different once he shaved off his beard and hair and changed into monastic robes. Even old acquaintances meeting him in the street might not recognize him. But for some unknown reason, this man had been injured and fallen in the courtyard of the Lotus Flower Temple, where the major pearl theft had occurred, so his interrogation was naturally conducted with extreme care and severity. Once his monastic robes were stripped off, revealing the python tattoo on his arm, his former subordinates among the Unworthy Men recognized him. Everyone was stunned.

Luo Chengye had endured many days of hunger in the Lotus Flower Temple. Wounded as well, he was utterly worn down. He did not last a day under Bao Lang before confessing everything.

Lured into gambling, he had accumulated a mountain of debts in the city. He had long wished to withdraw, but his creditors watched him too closely for him to escape. Some days earlier, he happened to encounter an old outlaw companion in the city. The man had now taken monastic vows and the religious name Miaoxing. Luo Chengye invited him home to drink and reminisce. Though Monk Miaoxing had little money, he carried an official Ordination Certificate issued by the court. Seeing it, Luo Chengye grew greedy and conceived the idea of taking the certificate, assuming a new identity, and fleeing far away.

He got Monk Miaoxing drunk, then ambushed and killed him with his Four-Sided Pattern-Welded Iron Mace. He had taken the Ordination Certificate and was about to flee when his subordinate Wang Liangcai knocked at the door, calling for him and reporting the theft of Baozhu from the Many-Treasures Pagoda the night before. Hearing this, Luo Chengye hit upon a plan. He would tie his murder to the pearl theft, faking his own death to escape and shake off any future pursuit as well.

Using the excuse of changing clothes, he sent Wang Liangcai away and exchanged his own clothes with those on Miaoxing's corpse. To conceal the corpse's monastic identity, he cut off Miaoxing's head. Just as he was about to escape, Wang Liangcai returned to hurry him along. If his subordinate saw him now, the scheme to fake his death would be ruined. But he had sold all his furnishings to gamble, leaving nowhere in the room to hide. In desperation, Luo Chengye pulled out the corpse's intestines and used them to climb onto a roof beam for temporary shelter.

When Wang Liangcai finally lost patience and pushed open the door, the first thing he saw was the headless corpse lying on the floor. Horrified, he turned away to tell the others. Luo Chengye then climbed down from the beam, scaled the wall into the neighboring Lotus Flower Temple, shaved off his beard and hair, and hid under Miaoxing's identity. Monk Miaoxing was a traveling monk from elsewhere, and none of the local monks knew him, so Luo Chengye remained safely hidden for several days.

But the weather was too hot, and the head soon began to give off an impossible-to-conceal stench of decay. Left with no choice, Luo Chengye slipped into the Lotus Flower Temple's kitchen, fried the head in hot oil until it was unrecognizable, and left behind a few strands of his own hair, disposing of the last remnant Monk Miaoxing had left behind.

Had the Lotus Flower Temple possessed enough food, he could have remained hidden until the pearl theft case ended, then leisurely departed Xiagui County once the city gates reopened. From then on, the sky would be high enough for any bird to fly, the sea broad enough for any fish to leap. He could shed his debt-ridden identity as Unworthy Marshal and become a carefree traveling monk. But Bao Lang was ruthless and cut off the monks' food supply outright. Unable to endure his hunger, Luo Chengye lost his head and tried to escape, only for someone unknown to shoot an arrow through his thigh and bind him. Thus he was captured helplessly.

Luo Chengye insisted that he had only killed Miaoxing and had not stolen Baozhu. Bao Lang, of course, refused to let matters rest, employing all manner of brutal tortures. Luo Chengye suffered a thousand times more than Miaoxing had in his violent death. Who knew whether, in his heart, he ever regretted killing his former companion and devising this scheme to escape through a feigned death?