Chapter 20

They searched from the east of the city to the west, spending an entire day on the hunt. Toward dusk, they reached the most desolate corner of the city, where dozens of tents stood on a patch of waste ground and over a hundred people loitered nearby. Some gambled, some played leaf cards, and others polished their tools. From their clothing and manner, they did not look like a merchant caravan.

Wei Xun went over to inquire. They turned out to be a party of artisans from Changzhou, summoned by imperial decree to hurry work on Princess Wanshou's mausoleum. Among them were carpenters, lacquer workers, stoneworkers, metalworkers, tombstone carvers, and many others. Since the county magistrate had sealed the city to catch the thief, the artisans had been trapped inside with nothing to do.

Wei Xun wandered into the camp to look for clues, only to find a dozen or so people gathered in a secluded corner by the city wall, burning paper money as they filled earth over a coffin. Travelers often fell ill and died on the road, whether from an unfamiliar climate, an epidemic, or sheer exhaustion.

But one look filled Wei Xun with suspicion, and he stopped where he stood.

"How strange," Huo Qi said. "Weddings are held at dusk, but funerals are usually held in the morning. These people aren't in any hurry to leave. Why bury their companion at this hour?"

"When something strays from the ordinary, there's a demon behind it," Wei Xun said with a cold smile.

Thanks to Chen Shigu's teachings, everyone in their sect was familiar with the various funeral rites practiced among the common people. Wei Xun carefully studied the mourners' faces. They all looked troubled, but lacked the piercing grief of those who had lost a loved one. He bent down and picked up a scrap of paper money scattered on the ground. Finding that it had been cut from hemp paper, he began to form an idea.

It was already late. Acting now would only beat the grass and startle the snake. He had been away from the County Yamen all day and did not know whether Baozhu's situation had changed or whether anyone had come to harass her. He decided to check on her before making his next move.

"Find another way," Wei Xun told Huo Qilang. "I didn't steal that pearl."

Huo Qilang started. "If it wasn't you, who could it be? Is there another expert in this city?"

Wei Xun shook his head. "I don't know. I'm going back to eat."

Unwilling to give up, Huo Qilang asked ingratiatingly, "Senior brother, could you ask whether that young lady needs any other guards?"

Wei Xun ignored her and strode toward the County Yamen. They aren't staying at the Sun Family Inn anymore? Curious, Huo Qilang followed. She knew his lightness skills were unrivaled, but she had never seen him run so fast. He chased the wind and raced the lightning, leaving the dust far behind; in the blink of an eye, he had vanished.

She stood rooted to the spot and marveled, "Incredible. His heart's flying home like an arrow."

The moment Wei Xun entered, he sensed something wrong. Baozhu sat crumpled on the floor, dissolved in tears. Yang Xingjian's face was ashen, yet he still forced a smile as he comforted her. At the sight of Wei Xun, Baozhu showed none of her morning coldness. As though clutching at a straw that might save her life, she burst into loud sobs.

Wei Xun had never seen her cry so miserably, as though she had suffered some terrible injustice. "What happened?" he asked at once.

Yang Xingjian looked grave. "The yamen runners arrested the young monk, Thirteenth Son."

Wei Xun's heart jolted. "How could that happen?!"

Baozhu was crying too hard to speak, so Yang Xingjian explained, "Bao Lang questioned all the monks at Lotus Flower Temple again today and discovered this little novice among the visiting monks. Luo Chengye testified that the person who knocked him down seemed very short, which happened to fit several of Bao Lang's criteria for suspects: snake handlers and monkey trainers, literate monks, and outsiders. Bao Lang already suspected that a child or something like a monkey had crawled into the Many-Treasures Pagoda to steal the pearl, so he arrested him immediately."

Baozhu's tears tumbled down like pearls from a broken string. "Bao Lang has already tortured more than ten people to death," she choked out. "Now that Thirteenth Son's been arrested, he's certain to be tortured!"

Wei Xun did not panic. Instead, he reassured her calmly, "Don't worry too much. Thirteen doesn't practice the same style as me. His is external body-conditioning kung fu, like Fourth's. Ordinary rods and canes won't easily beat him to death, even over two or three days."

Yang Xingjian had something else on his mind. Filled with dread, he said, "No one can withstand torture. If he opens his mouth and reveals the princess's identity and his connection to her, that will be the real disaster."

Wei Xun sneered. "Even you know what mustn't be said. Do you think so little of those of us in the martial world? My junior brother's bones aren't that soft."

Those words only made Baozhu tremble harder with sobs. "If he endures the torture and refuses to talk, won't he suffer twice as much?!" Sniffling, she rose from the floor and sat before the bronze mirror. She opened her cosmetics case, slipped several hairpins into her hair, and took out lead powder and rouge to begin making herself up.

She reshaped her proud cloud-brushing brows into slender weeping brows, their inner ends slightly furrowed and their tails drooping, making her look tender and pitiful. Her tears would not stop, washing streaks through the rouge as soon as she applied it. She wiped it off with a handkerchief and tried again. After several attempts, the rouge on the cloth looked like scattered bloodstains. Unable to make it stay, she abandoned the powder and painted only her lips, making them vivid and luscious.

Wei Xun and Yang Xingjian watched her strange behavior, then looked at the handkerchief with its distinct red stains. Both felt their hearts pound with a dreadful sense of impending disaster.

"Princess..." Yang Xingjian asked in a trembling voice. "What are you planning to do?!"

"I'm going to see Bao Lang right now and persuade him to release Thirteenth Son." Still drawing her brows, Baozhu spoke firmly. "My mother was the most captivating woman in the world. I saw how she bent men to her will. Once I've dressed properly, I'll certainly make that fellow obey me."

Wei Xun and Yang Xingjian exchanged a look, horror flashing across both their faces. Their hearts shook. She doesn't understand at all! She's about to play with a dangerous weapon she can't control!

Yang Xingjian thought of how the princess had been only ten when the Noble Consort died. Who knew what misunderstandings she harbored about such things? Bao Lang had coveted her for a long time. Going to him like this would be like a fish swimming in a boiling cauldron, a swallow nesting on a fluttering curtain. That man would devour her alive without leaving even a corner of her clothing. At the thought, Yang Xingjian grew dizzy and weak-kneed. He dropped to his knees with a thud, clutched one of her shoes, and pleaded through tears, "Princess, you must never put yourself in danger!"

Baozhu wiped her eyes and struggled to hold back her tears. "Do you doubt my mother's methods, or my beauty?!" she demanded angrily.

"I believe in both," Yang Xingjian wept. "But so long as any of us has a breath left, we must never let matters reach the point where you need to risk yourself."

Her words had frightened Wei Xun no less than Yang Xingjian. Had his extra years of martial training not kept his spine firm, he would have wanted to clutch her other shoe and stop her too. For the first time, he agreed so wholeheartedly with Yang Xingjian. His face livid, he said, "Old Yang's right. Consider a scheme like that only after I'm well and truly dead and you can no longer protect yourself." Inwardly, he thought with vicious resolve that, so long as this terrible idea remained in her head, Bao Lang absolutely could not be allowed to live.

Baozhu understood none of the dangers involved and had always held Bao Lang in contempt. "He's always begging to speak to me. Wouldn't it be simpler if I persuaded him without shedding blood? Even if I can't do it with a single glance like my mother, a few more words ought to settle it."

Wei Xun and Yang Xingjian both shook their heads with absolute resolve.

"Then tell me what we should do!" Baozhu demanded, her voice thick with tears. "We can't just watch Bao Lang beat Thirteenth Son to death!"

"You don't need to step in," Wei Xun said. "It's only a prison break. Nothing remarkable."

Yang Xingjian's heart lurched. A prison break and nothing remarkable-how wildly arrogant did a man have to be to put those words together? After a moment's thought, he hastily protested, "No! Many people at the Sun Family Inn saw the little novice with the princess. Rescuing him will inevitably arouse suspicion. If they investigate closely, the princess will still be implicated." Though Yang Xingjian also regretted Thirteenth Son's arrest, he would not hesitate to sacrifice everyone in this room if that was what it took to keep Baozhu safe.

They had reached an impasse. The air seemed to congeal, and the room remained silent for a long while. Then Wei Xun said slowly, "If rescuing one person won't do, we'll simply release every prisoner. Stir up such a huge mess that they won't have time to worry about anyone."

With tears brimming in her eyes, Baozhu asked in surprise, "Can you do that?"

Wei Xun looked at her with complete confidence. "I can," he said, each word firm enough to cut nails and sever iron.

His proud, confident smile immediately eased Baozhu's mind, and light shone through her misty eyes.

After thinking for a moment, Wei Xun said, "I'll need to make some preparations and find a helper. Besides Thirteen, I have another fellow disciple in this city. May I bring her here?"

Baozhu paused, remembering the tall, handsome woman in black. "Huo Qilang?"

Wei Xun nodded. "You've already met Seventh. Her words and behavior are outrageous, but she has no other designs. It'll just cost some money."

"No problem!" Baozhu said at once.

Wei Xun immediately climbed out through the window and found Huo Qi. He told her only that Thirteenth Son had been wrongfully arrested and that the Yang father and daughter were willing to pay to get him out, then asked her to lend a hand.

Delighted that an opportunity had come knocking, Huo Qi smiled. "The little baldhead certainly knows how to help in a pinch. Once we get him out, I'll buy him sweets." Inwardly, she wondered why Wei Da needed help. This was no prison break from the Court of Judicial Review in Chang'an, merely a county prison ward. With his abilities, fetching someone from there should be as easy as reaching out his hand. Had fellow-disciple affection truly moved him to find her a chance to make money?

Only when Wei Xun explained his plan did she realize, with a start, that Wei Da intended to pull off something earth-shattering. Huo Qilang was a guileless lover of amusement who rarely thought too deeply about things. Knowing there was money to be made was enough for her.

She promptly followed Wei Xun into the Reflection Pavilion in the County Yamen's private quarters. Seeing the beauty with her brows knitted and tears still marking her cheeks, Huo Qilang felt a surge of tenderness. She walked naturally up to her and sat cross-legged before her. "Why have you been crying like this?" she asked gently. "Whatever grievances you have, just tell Huo Qi. Seeing you cry this way breaks my heart."

Yang Xingjian's face darkened immediately. He glared at Wei Xun and pointed surreptitiously at Huo Qi, plainly asking why he had brought such an indiscreet helper who was neither man nor woman.

Wei Xun regretted it somewhat himself. Why hadn't he torn Seventh's rotten mouth apart before bringing her in? And how could she deliver such flirtatious nonsense without so much as changing expression? He had to prepare the rescue, however, and there was no one else to protect Baozhu. He could only tolerate her for now. He climbed out again to scout the area.

Huo Qilang was not merely dashing and handsome; she also had a natural talent for becoming familiar with people the moment they met. Within a few exchanges, she and Baozhu were chatting. Knowing that she was Wei Xun's fellow disciple and an ally he had brought to rescue Thirteenth Son, Baozhu let go of the wariness she had felt at their previous meeting. "Can Thirteenth Son really withstand the jailer's brutal beatings?" she asked anxiously.

"Young lady, you don't know what we martial artists are made of," Huo Qilang reassured her. "The little baldhead practices our sect's Prajna Repentance internal art. Its training is all about tempering the sinews and forging the bones. Small as he is, he can take more punishment than a big person like me. A little suffering of the flesh won't hurt his foundations. Once my senior brother and I get him out, buy him something tasty, and he'll forget all about the pain."

Baozhu remembered Thirteenth Son slipping over to the Reflection Pavilion at night, clumsily climbing the wall to comfort her, and felt even sadder. "You and Wei Xun are both skilled at bounding over roofs and walls. Thirteenth Son isn't so nimble, or he could have escaped himself instead of falling into such danger. Your master Chen Shigu is terribly biased. He didn't even teach him lightness skills."

"Our sect's lightness method is called Mirage Step," Huo Qilang said with a smile. "It relies on the internal energy of the Mysterious Qi Primordial Art. Apart from our venerable master, none of us has the breadth of knowledge to practice different internal arts at the same time. We can only choose one. The little baldhead really wants to learn, but without the internal foundation, he couldn't grasp even the rudiments, even if Wei Da were willing to teach him."

She privately considered Wei Xun. With his gifts, if he could live a little longer, perhaps he would someday integrate everything and reach the supreme heights Chen Shigu had attained. Unfortunately, martial arts were cruel. There were no ifs or maybes, only could or could not.

Baozhu had heard many unfamiliar terms from her and only half understood them. Distracted and uneasy, she could not quite believe everything. Wanting only idle conversation to ease her worries, she forced a smile and said to Yang Xingjian, "Father, listen to that coincidence. Their master is also called Chen Shigu, with exactly the same characters. 'Shigu' means 'learning from antiquity,' which is a wonderful meaning, but spoken aloud it sounds just like 'corpse bones.' It really isn't very auspicious."

Somewhat embarrassed, Yang Xingjian said gently and respectfully, "Perhaps he isn't the Chen Shigu we know of. That man was a presented scholar during the Dali Era."

The Great Tang's Presented Scholar Examination was extraordinarily difficult. As the saying went, "An old classics scholar at thirty, a young presented scholar at fifty." Passing it in one's fifties still counted as youthful accomplishment. Only a scant twenty-odd men passed each year, making the distinction immensely prestigious. They were the most gifted scholars in the realm, and few things could compare to their honor and glory. Even descendants of noble houses with centuries of history stood a head lower before these brilliant presented scholars.

Yang Xingjian meant that a candidate capable of passing that examination could never be a rough wanderer of the martial world, much less have anything to do with tomb robbers. Besides, the Dali Era had been forty years ago. Anyone who passed the examination then had probably long since died and been buried.

Chen Shigu was harsh and unkind. Affection between his disciples was thin, and they had little respect for their master either. Naturally, such praise or disparagement meant nothing to them. Huo Qilang smiled at Baozhu. "Speaking of good fortune, young lady, your features are truly noble. You're a dragon or phoenix among mortals, blessed with every auspicious sign."

Baozhu sighed, struck by the words. "I used to have rather good luck. These last two months have been an utter disaster. I've fallen to the bottom of the valley. I couldn't be more unlucky."

"Once you reach the bottom of the valley, the only way left is up!" Huo Qilang said flatteringly. "Your ears sit close to your head, with full, rounded lobes. That's a noble sign of abundant ancestral blessings. Your forehead is full, your storehouses of fortune well stocked, and your eyes, nose, and mouth are all beautifully formed. Even if you face a few bumps now, you're destined for a life of comfort and privilege."

Finding some accuracy in her words, Baozhu asked curiously, "Besides martial arts, do you know face-reading too?"

"My face-reading is only ordinary, but I'm rather good at bone-reading," Huo Qilang said. "If you'd like your fortune told, I'll do a reading for free. Give me your hand, young lady, and let me feel it."

Baozhu had no idea how Huo Qilang had acquired the nickname Silk-and-Gauze Gentleman, much less that the person before her was a seasoned seducer of both men and women. She was very curious about folk fortune-telling, and since Huo Qi was a woman, she felt no need to be wary. Hesitantly, she lifted her wrist, intending to offer her hand and give it a try.

Smiling broadly, Huo Qi was just about to take it when a cold draft swept the back of her neck, carrying an almost tangible murderous aura. Cold sweat instantly sprang up across her back, and her hand stopped in midair.

Wei Xun had returned without her noticing. Standing behind Huo Qi with his hands tucked away, he sneered, "Seventh, I see your head is very well formed too. Such a long neck."

He left the second half-easy to chop-unspoken, but Huo Qilang understood perfectly. Swallowing, she stiffly withdrew her hand and gave Baozhu an awkward smile. "No need to feel your hand. One look at your face tells me your nobility is beyond words. Heh, beyond words!" Then she shifted outward, putting more distance between herself and Baozhu.

Wei Xun shot her a vicious glare, walked over, and sat below Baozhu's couch, claiming the place closest to her. Looking up, he said, "I've finished scouting. Now we only need to wait for the right moment. I've also completed the task you gave me this morning." He took a piece of paper money from his robe and laid it beside the note he had secretly switched out of Bao Lang's possession.

Baozhu leaned closer. The two scraps had exactly the same texture and color, as though cut from a single large sheet. She gave a soft gasp. "Where did you get this?!"

Wei Xun explained where he had found the paper money, why the artisans were camping outdoors, and the peculiar funeral.

As she listened, the famous calligraphy she had seen in the past flashed through Baozhu's mind. Suddenly, the blockage cleared. "I know who wrote the note!" she exclaimed.

Her cheeks flushed with excitement as she turned to Yang Xingjian. "Suppose Father asked Zhang Xu for a piece of calligraphy. There's one circumstance in which he would have to write in regular script. For example, if I died..."

Hearing such ill-omened words from someone so young, Yang Xingjian frowned and was about to offer a gentle reprimand. Then he suddenly understood her hint. "An epitaph! An epitaph has to be written in regular script!"

Baozhu nodded. "Inviting a famous scholar to compose an epitaph is a customary way to bring honor to one's family. Since epitaphs are carved into stone, a good tombstone carver has to understand the calligraphy of all the masters, with a clear image in his mind and divine skill in his brush. Only then can his copied draft fully reproduce the spirit of a master's work. Such people may be skilled enough to make a copy pass for the original, but their status is low. They have no use for fine xuan paper and ordinarily make their drafts on coarse paper or hemp paper."

"No wonder the Sage of Cursive Script's calligraphy was written on hemp paper," Yang Xingjian sighed. "Once we understand the reason, there's nothing strange about it."

Baozhu glanced at Wei Xun. Both thought of someone they had met before. Hesitantly, she asked, "Could a lame man with a crutch possess lightness skills that let him leap over roofs and walls?"

"There are a few people in our line of work with missing arms or crippled legs," Wei Xun said. "Despite their disabilities, they can still move as swiftly as flight, but climbing the pagoda would be beyond them. Perhaps he wrote the note and someone else entered the tower." He thought of the hundred-odd people at the camp. If an expert like that really was among them, concealing every trace so thoroughly that even he could not spot him, the fellow was truly keeping his depths hidden.

As Baozhu discussed the case with Wei Xun and Yang Xingjian, Huo Qi watched coolly from the side. In front of this young lady of the Yang family, Wei Xun positively shone, yet he was also unusually gentle and careful in his movements. Not only did he angle his body toward her as he sat, but whenever she spoke, his eyes lit up.

The Silk-and-Gauze Gentleman was experienced, her gaze keen as a torch. She understood something immediately, and her heart began to race with excitement.

Of Chen Shigu's thirteen disciples, all but the last four or five to join were older than Wei Xun.

Yet this pale, gloomy little senior brother seemed born for martial arts. His explosive power, comprehension, and concentration were all exceptional, and he was resolute and disciplined. After practicing any technique for a few days, he could wield it with a mastery others could not match after a lifetime of bitter training.

As a youth, his martial prowess already surpassed the assembled heroes, and his cultivation of both internal and external arts left him without weaknesses. Naturally, he was supremely proud. For years he had kept his older fellow disciples firmly under his heel. Even men like the Cave Truth Master, who had now founded sects of their own, could only lower their heads obediently before him and address him as eldest senior brother. His unruly temper never let a grudge survive the night. At rest, he concealed every trace; in motion, he left the dust far behind. Since no one could beat him or escape him, none wanted to provoke him.

Especially when Wei Xun had been at his most arrogant and rebellious, at fourteen or fifteen, even gods and ghosts would have loathed him. His fellow disciples had all secretly hoped he would take a great tumble and have that bastard boy's sharp edge thoroughly blunted.

Huo Qilang had never imagined he would stumble in this particular way. Wei Xun had always been oblivious to romance. From the rafters, he had seen every sort of thing, yet cared about none of it. Though several fellow disciples were beautiful, he treated them as clay pigs and earthenware dogs. When sparring, he never cherished a beauty or spared her feelings. He was equally ruthless with everyone and never cared about his opponent's dignity.

Now this insufferably arrogant fellow looked flustered and anxious over every possible gain or loss. Huo Qilang wanted to throw back her head and howl with laughter. Even if she earned not a single coin from this job, she would still have profited handsomely. On closer consideration, she suspected Wei Xun had not yet realized what pit he had fallen into-he did not even know to conceal it. That made it funnier still. She longed to issue a Sect Gathering Order at once and summon every fellow disciple to witness the rare spectacle of this lynx making a fool of himself.

Seeing Huo Qilang's peculiar expression and darting eyes as she sat there refusing to leave, Wei Xun snapped, "Did you come here to meditate? Have you prepared everything I told you to?"

The corners of Huo Qilang's mouth curved upward. With a meaningful smile, she said, "Don't panic, eldest senior brother. Matters like these always need careful, long-term planning. You can't rush them."