Having spent two days and two nights on the train, Zhang Laifu had been forbidden to speak or move, permitted only to eat and use the toilet.
On the morning of the third day, Lao Song told Lao Yu and Lao Zheng to gather their belongings and prepare to get off, plucking a few wads of cotton from Zhang Laifu's body in the process.
Zhang Laifu sat up from the bed, took a couple of steps, and coughed twice to test his voice.
He could move, and he could speak.
Lao Song cautioned him, "Laifu, remember the rules of the set."
Zhang Laifu nodded repeatedly.
Having packed his luggage, Lao Yu lowered his voice and asked Lao Zheng, "Why let him get up again?"
Lao Zheng frowned. "Didn't I already tell you? He has no legal identity in Wansheng Prefecture. The people on the platform aren't easily fooled, so we can't draw too much attention."
The figure of the train attendant appeared once more in the hanging painting: "Attention passengers, we will soon be arriving at Heishakou Station. Passengers terminating here, please gather your personal belongings and prepare to disembark."
The group left the room and stepped past the fire door, only to find another corridor outside.
This hallway was pitch-black, devoid of the slightest glimmer of light. Lao Yu and Lao Zheng flanked Zhang Laifu, escorting him along in single file. After walking for ten-odd minutes, Zhang Laifu heard sounds up ahead.
Clang-clang-clang!
It was the clashing of gongs and drums.
Song Yongchang took the lead, winding left and right until they reached a wall. He rapped six times against the surface and coughed twice. "The great lock upon this gate is heavy indeed."
A voice answered from the other side: "A lock need not fear weight, provided you carry the key."
Song Yongchang replied, "Worn by the dust of the road, the key is polished bright."
The voice answered, "You have toiled hard, gentlemen. Return home and rest well."
The door swung open, and the gatekeeper asked Song Yongchang, "Are all of these yours?"
Song Yongchang counted his people and told the gatekeeper, "These are mine. The rest I do not know."
The gatekeeper collected the fee according to the headcount and allowed Song Yongchang's party to pass.
Another corridor lay ahead. When they crossed through it and pushed open the door on the far end, Zhang Laifu's eyes finally met bright light.
Before him was a theater stage. An alluring, dashing woman sang upon the boards:
"Taking up the drumsticks in hand, the banners unfurl, the parasol pierces the heavens; war barges arrayed in rank, bound tight with iron chains. Hark to the battle cries resounding from the ranks!
"Rallying the high standard, force to shake the river tide; with loyal liver and crimson heart, I vow to safeguard the banners of the Great Song!"
Bravoes and cheers erupted incessantly from the audience. Zhang Laifu knew nothing of traditional opera, but he found the woman strikingly gorgeous yet imposing and valiant. Her singular presence and masterful performance made it impossible to tear one's eyes away.
Lao Song found a place for everyone to sit. According to the rules here, they had to sit through a full performance before leaving.
To Zhang Laifu's left sat Lao Zheng, and to his right sat Han Yucheng. Watching the woman perform, Lao Zheng shouted praise again and again.
"Laifu, that's a daomadan. Do you understand what's happening?"
Zhang Laifu shook his head. "I don't really get it. What are those two long things on her headdress?"
Lao Zheng explained earnestly, "Those are the pheasant plumes on her helmet!"
"What do you call the flags pinned to her back?"
"Those are stage banners."
"What is the piece she's singing?"
"It's called *The Battle of Jinshan*!" Han Yucheng chimed in from the side.
Lao Zheng looked delighted. "Xiao Han, you're fond of traditional opera?"
Han Yucheng nodded. "I've done a bit of study on traditional arts."
"The treasures left by our ancestors are truly remarkable!" Lao Zheng kept his eyes glued to the stage, utterly entranced.
Han Yucheng leaned close to Zhang Laifu's ear and whispered, "Do you know what kind of place this is?"
Zhang Laifu startled and turned to look at him. "This is a film set!"
Han Yucheng fell silent for a moment before whispering again, "An idiot like you deserves to die. You'd deserve it if you died a hundred times over."
Zhang Laifu pondered for a bit and looked back at Han Yucheng. "Is that your line?"
Han Yucheng was torn between tears and laughter. "Yes, that's my line. What do you have to say to that?"
"I have nothing to say," Zhang Laifu replied, shaking his head. "I don't have any lines."
Lao Zheng chuckled from the side. Zhang Laifu had truly been beaten into obedience.
When the performance ended, Lao Song led the group out of the theater. Zhang Laifu glanced back at the signboard, which bore three large characters: Qingxiang Garden.
Zhang Laifu committed the place to memory.
Outside the theater stretched an open street. Most of the buildings along it were two stories tall; structures of three floors were scarce, and buildings above five stories were nonexistent.
The architectural lines were remarkably smooth. The tops of doorways were arched, the upper edges of windows were arched, and even the corner storefronts rounded off in gentle curves.
Pedestrians bustled along the street alongside horse-drawn carriages, yet Zhang Laifu didn't see a single automobile.
The surroundings differed drastically from Huan. By all rights, Zhang Laifu ought to have shown some sense of novelty.
Yet his expression remained calm, as if he were entirely accustomed to the architecture.
Suspicion flared in Lao Song's mind. "Laifu, have you been here before?"
"Never," Zhang Laifu shook his head. "I've just seen similar sets in the past."
Lao Song smiled without saying a word. Before long, Lao Yu arrived leading several horse-drawn carriages.
Everyone climbed aboard. Han Yucheng glanced around furtively, longing to make a break for it, yet lacking the nerve.
Taking advantage of boarding the carriage, he whispered to Zhang Laifu, "This isn't acting! We've been abducted!"
Zhang Laifu glared at him. "This is a set. You have to follow the rules."
He knew Han Yucheng wanted to run, but he had no intention of collaborating with him.
He was covered in cotton threads; with a mere flick of Lao Song's hand, Zhang Laifu could be crushed to pieces.
An oil lamp hung inside the dark carriage. The flame swayed twice, and the carriage lurched into motion.
Han Yucheng trembled all over, sweat pouring down his cheeks.
Lao Yu laughed. "What are you scared of? Look at Laifu—he isn't frightened at all."
Han Yucheng's voice began to waver, his composure starting to unravel. "He's an idiot! I'm not..."
Lao Yu chuckled. "Laifu, he says you're an idiot."
Zhang Laifu replied solemnly, "I don't have any lines. I'm not talking."
Lao Yu grinned, glancing toward Han Yucheng. "Learn from Laifu and keep your mouth shut."
***
At one-thirty in the morning, the party reached Fangpai Mountain.
Zhang Laifu was fast asleep when Song Yongchang shook him awake.
"We've arrived. The main event comes next. You two newcomers had better put on a good show—don't drag the production down."
Zhang Laifu looked up at Fangpai Mountain shrouded in the night.
The towering peak loomed over him, its sheer weight leaving him breathless.
Han Yucheng's legs went limp; Lao Zheng had to prop him up just to help him down from the carriage.
Once they were down, Lao Zheng and Lao Yu stayed by Song Yongchang's side, while the others returned to their respective camps.
Song Yongchang escorted Zhang Laifu and Han Yucheng straight to the hostage quarters and locked them into a cell.
Having settled Zhang Laifu, Song Yongchang was about to seek out Yuan Kuilong when, to his surprise, Yuan Kuilong appeared right outside the entrance of the quarters, accompanied by Zhao Yingde, the provisions steward.
"Lao Song, you pulled off such a massive undertaking without giving me word beforehand." Yuan Kuilong stepped up to Song Yongchang and grabbed him by the shirt.
The surrounding bandits were terrified, assuming the Chief was about to make a move on the Second Chief.
Song Yongchang showed no panic at all. He replied with utmost deference, "Master Dragon, how could I have done anything massive?"
Yuan Kuilong glanced back at Zhao Yingde. "What do you think Lao Song means by that?"
Zhao Yingde shook his head. "I can't tell what the Second Chief means."
"You can't tell?" Yuan Kuilong's eyes widened into glaring saucers. "The entire mountain knows you're closest to Lao Song! You have the damned gall to tell me you can't tell? Whose side are you on, anyway?"
Zhao Yingde panicked. "Chief! My heart is completely with you! Don't you already know what my heart looks like?"
"Stop bringing up your heart to me!" Yuan Kuilong was not so easily placated. "That heart of yours is carved from a turnip!"
"Fine! If the Chief doesn't trust my heart, I'll chop off this hand right now so you can see what kind of man I am!"
Zhao Yingde raised a knife, about to sever his own hand.
Yuan Kuilong snatched the blade away, barking in anger, "Can't I even lecture you? What do you think you're doing, chopping off your hand right here? This hand of yours..."
Yuan Kuilong brought Zhao Yingde's hand to his nose and sniffed it thoroughly. "This hand of yours is cucumber, isn't it?"
Zhao Yingde nodded. "Crisp-heart greens, the very first batch of quality cucumbers harvested this year. I saved it especially for the Chief."
"Look at you. We don't even have fermented yellow soybean paste here, yet you insist on chopping off your hand. How am I supposed to eat it? You didn't think this through." Yuan Kuilong chuckled, turning back to Song Yongchang. "Old Zhao still holds me in his heart, after all."
Zhao Yingde chimed in from the side, "My arm holds the Chief as well."
Yuan Kuilong grumbled at Song Yongchang, "Lao Song, Old Zhao is entirely devoted to me, while you are halfhearted."
Song Yongchang froze. "Chief, where is this coming from?"
Yuan Kuilong's expression softened into warmth. "Just now I said you did something big, and you insisted you didn't. You fetched me six fools to open the bowl—isn't that a big deal?"
Song Yongchang hastily lowered his head. "Chief, to me that is a matter of paramount importance. When doing work for you, Chief, even spilling my liver and brains upon the ground is a price I would pay without hesitation."
"Truly?" Yuan Kuilong looked pleasantly surprised.
"Not a single word of falsehood!" Song Yongchang felt his chest settle slightly.
"Then where are the liver and brains?" Yuan Kuilong asked with a genial smile.
"Chief, you're joking again..."
"Who's joking with you? Didn't you say you'd spill your liver and brains upon the ground? I'm asking you where they are." Yuan Kuilong continued to beam at Song Yongchang.
The heart Song Yongchang had just set down leaped right back into his throat.
Everyone in Hunlong Stronghold knew Yuan Kuilong loved to joke, but no one ever knew which jokes were real.
Though Yuan Kuilong wore a broad smile right now, Song Yongchang could tell he had turned dead serious.
He wanted liver and brains—where was Song Yongchang supposed to get them?
And if he failed to produce them, what would the consequences be?
"I'm asking you, where are the liver and brains!" Yuan Kuilong's smile vanished bit by bit.
*Crack!*
Zhao Yingde plucked a cluster of grapes from the back of his own skull and offered them to Yuan Kuilong. "Chief, here are the brains!"
Yuan Kuilong took the cluster, plucked off a single grape, and tasted it, immensely satisfied with the flavor. "You're the clever one, after all!"
"I also have oranges in my liver, sweet as can be!" Zhao Yingde drew a knife, preparing to slit open his own belly.
Yuan Kuilong stayed his hand. "Brother, we haven't finished the grapes yet. Let's hold off on the oranges and look at these fools from outside the prefecture first."
Every pair of eyes turned toward Zhang Laifu and Han Yucheng.
Seeing grapes plucked from the back of a skull and hearing talk of gutting a belly for liver, Han Yucheng had turned ashen.
Yet terrified as he was, his mind remained sharp.
Ever since entering the quarters, he had been observing the identities, status, and motives of everyone present, piecing together a clear picture of the situation.
The bearded man was the Chief, the leader of the outfit.
Lao Song ranked lower than the bearded man, and the others ranked lower than Lao Song.
They were capturing fools. While he had no idea what 'opening the bowl' meant, it was certainly nothing good.
His only way out now was to prove he was not a fool.
As long as he convinced this Chief that he wasn't simpleminded, he would survive!
Yuan Kuilong looked at Han Yucheng. "What's your name?"
Han Yucheng hurried to answer, "My name is Han Yucheng. You can just call me Xiao Han. Chief, meeting you is the fortune of three lifetimes! From now on, I will attend to you through thick and thin. At your word, I will go through fire and water, shrinking from no death!"
Yuan Kuilong paused in surprise. "Such refined speech? You're not a fool?"
Han Yucheng shook his head vigorously. "I'm not foolish! I can read, I've studied, I've received higher education, and I've even studied abroad! I have my diploma right in my bag. I wouldn't dare deceive you, Chief."
Yuan Kuilong ate another grape, his face darkening as he turned to Song Yongchang. "Lao Song, what kind of work do you call this?
"The man clearly isn't a fool, yet you had to drag him back as one. Aren't you persecuting the loyal and good?"
*Persecuting the loyal and good? Is that how you use that idiom?*
*And are fools not loyal and good?*
Lao Song had no choice but to play along. "Chief, I think this fellow is quite foolish. Don't be fooled by his polished talk..."
"He looks respectable because he is respectable! The man even studied abroad—how could he possibly be a fool?" Yuan Kuilong reprimanded Lao Song before offering Han Yucheng a few words of comfort. "Little brother, you must have been frightened out of your wits, eh?"
Han Yucheng nodded. "I was quite terrified."
"Don't be afraid, and don't be angry. It was all a misunderstanding. We never meant to kidnap you. How about I compensate you with some silver?" Yuan Kuilong reached down toward his coin pouch.
Han Yucheng waved his hands frantically. "No need! Chief, you are too kind. Over such a minor matter, how could I dare accept your money?"
"True enough, money only makes things distant," Yuan Kuilong mused, looking at the grapes in his hand. He plucked one and popped it directly into Han Yucheng's mouth. "I'll treat you to a grape, and we'll let bygones be bygones. How does that sound?"
With the grape in his mouth, Han Yucheng nodded vigorously.
"Don't just hold it there—eat it!" Yuan Kuilong slapped Han Yucheng on the back, forcing him to swallow it whole, skin and flesh alike.
"Tastes good, doesn't it?"
"Yes!" Han Yucheng nodded emphatically.
"Then this matter is behind us?"
"Behind us!"
"Do you know the way down the mountain?"
"No, I don't."
Yuan Kuilong frowned. "That's a bit troublesome. I'd have to find someone to escort you down."
Han Yucheng quickly changed his tune: "I know it! I know the way down the mountain! I can walk back on my own."
Yuan Kuilong smiled. "The night is dark and the road is slick. Take care."
"Thank you, Chief! I'll take my leave, then." Han Yucheng rushed out of the cell, the numbness in his legs gradually giving way to strength.
He had actually managed to claw his life back. Tears nearly spilled from his eyes.
Thank goodness he had been prepared, thank goodness his wits were sharp. Had he uttered a single wrong word back there, he never would have walked out of these quarters alive.
He felt an urge to turn back and check on Zhang Laifu, but worried that doing so might invite fresh complications.
Forget it, why bother looking at him? That fool deserved to die anyway!
In truth, Zhang Laifu had been watching his departing back the entire time—not out of envy or reluctance, but because two leaves had sprouted from the back of Han Yucheng's head.
Han Yucheng also felt something amiss at the nape of his skull—an itch, coupled with a faint sting.
He had no time to worry about it. All he wanted was to escape these quarters as quickly as possible, yet no matter how hard his legs strained, he could barely take a step.
A third leaf thrust out from the back of his head, trailing fresh blood.
A fourth leaf forced its way through, bringing with it a glob of brain matter.
A fifth leaf emerged, prying loose a piece of skull.
Staring at the fragment of bone that clattered to the floor, Han Yucheng wanted to scream, but no sound came.
With his brain severely damaged, he lost all capacity for movement, along with the ability to speak.
His legs gave out, and Han Yucheng collapsed right at the threshold of the hostage quarters.
Yuan Kuilong frowned with displeasure. "Look at you. Just two more steps and you would have made it outside! Without any sunlight indoors, how are these grapes supposed to grow properly?"
Hearing this, Zhao Yingde promptly instructed the bandits, "Carry him out and place him where there's good sunlight."
Yuan Kuilong remained dissatisfied. "Is that all?"
Zhao Yingde thought for a moment and added to his men, "Remember to thrust a few bamboo poles into him. The vines need a trellis to climb."
Yuan Kuilong nodded. "Now that's more like it."
Several bandits hauled Han Yucheng outside, and Yuan Kuilong looked down at Zhang Laifu.
"Lao Song, if this one turns out not to be a fool either, I'll have to trouble you to collect his corpse before making another trip out of the prefecture."
Song Yongchang nodded repeatedly. "I obey the Chief's every command."
Yuan Kuilong asked Zhang Laifu, "What's your name?"
Everyone waited for Zhang Laifu to respond, but he kept silent.
Yuan Kuilong's brows knitted. "Are you a mute?"
Zhang Laifu raised dull, vacant eyes, still offering no word.
A hostage guard standing nearby stepped up and kicked Zhang Laifu hard. "He's asking you a question, can't you hear?"
Hostage guards were a specialized breed of bandit tasked with minding the holding cells. They lacked martial prowess and courage, making them utterly useless on a battlefield.
However, they typically possessed fierce countenances and ruthless temperaments, excelling at intimidating and tormenting captives. Thus, they formed a distinct trade among the bandits.
The kick landed with vicious force right over his chest. Zhang Laifu coughed for quite a while before looking toward Song Yongchang. "He's asking what my name is."
Song Yongchang frowned. "Why are you looking at me?"
Zhang Laifu gave him a bewildered stare. "Didn't you say I have no lines?"
Song Yongchang said, "Master Dragon is asking you a question. Can't you think up some lines of your own?"
Zhang Laifu thought for a long while before answering, "My name is Captive."
The room went quiet for a heartbeat, followed by a burst of uproarious laughter.
He called himself Captive.
Yuan Kuilong did not laugh. Only after a good while did he speak: "I'm asking what your name is."
Zhang Laifu shook his head. "I don't know."
Yuan Kuilong gaped in bewilderment. "You don't know your own name?"
Zhang Laifu replied with utter gravity, "Nobody gave me a script. How am I supposed to know what I'm called?"
Yuan Kuilong glared. "What does a name have to do with a script?"
Zhang Laifu glared right back. "Without a script, where would a name come from?"
Yuan Kuilong thumped his chest. "My name is Yuan Kuilong! With or without a script, I'm Yuan Kuilong!"
Zhang Laifu straightened his posture. "My name is Captive. The script had me play a captive! If there's no script, what else could I possibly be called?"
Yuan Kuilong snapped furiously, "How the hell should I know what you're called?"
Zhang Laifu flared up in anger as well. "If even you don't know, where am I supposed to find out?"
Yuan Kuilong fell silent for a moment. Slowly turning around, he looked at the men behind him. "This idiocy is contagious. Don't speak to him—everyone stay well away."
Chapter 4