The Transit Warehouse

After inspecting Wan Song's residence, the group withdrew. They had not rummaged through cupboards or overturned chests, so Wan Song would suspect nothing if he happened to return home. Their next destination was Wan Song's warehouse. The County Magistrate of Baishi had even assigned two bailiffs to them, instructing both to obey the special envoy's orders in everything. These two had served locally for nearly twenty years; they knew every shady character and local fixture across the surrounding towns and villages, had seen all sorts of strange happenings, and were bona fide local hands. This showed the magistrate's eagerness to cooperate. He Lingchuan asked the two bailiffs directly, "Do you know Wan Song?" "Know him? All too well," replied one of the bailiffs, named Xu Dayou. "Back when he was selected for the Baiqi Sect, Wan Xianneng threw a celebratory feast for his nephew, and I even went to drink at it. A pity the boy turned out to be useless and got himself kicked out. If I'd known that bastard was secretly slaughtering demons, I'd have cut him down with a single stroke!" "You couldn't beat him," the other bailiff, Wu Huang, said bluntly. "He's a hardened thug. We should have seen long ago that there was something wrong with that boy. He defied village rules as a kid, and grew up into a complete desperado." Youtian Town was not large; dashing from east to west took less than two quarters of an hour. Wan Song's warehouse stood right beside the medicinal herb fields, bordering a narrow path that made transport very convenient. Quite a few cash-crop medicinal herbs grew in his fields, such as yellow hemp vine and elderberry, and he had even hired a den of beady-eyed weasels as watchmen. Yet there were no prunella spikes in his fields. General Ling grinned at He Lingchuan. "He doesn't even grow them himself. So there are times when your judgment fails, eh?" "Is that so?" He Lingchuan replied nonchalantly. "Let's wait and see." The two bailiffs stepped forward and exchanged a few words, and the weasels dared not stop them from opening the warehouse. Local authority on the spot beats distant officials. Half of the warehouse's interior was already taken up, stacked high with bagged herbs of every variety. Nobody knew how many warehouses of this sort existed in Zhitian Township. He Lingchuan drew his saber and randomly sliced open a few bags. Fleeceflower root. Prunella spike. Pseudoginseng. Prunella spike. Prunella spike. He slashed open over a dozen sacks; only two contained other herbs, while all the rest were prunella spikes! Jiao Yu gave General Ling a sideways glance. "What do you say to that?" General Ling simply reached out with his snout and plucked a few stalks to chew on. Munching away, he remarked, "Tastes pretty good, quite fresh too. Hmm, what on earth does this fellow need prunella spikes for?" He Lingchuan had already resolved his earlier confusion on the journey here. Grabbing a handful of prunella spikes, he said, "This is fodder—fodder for that monster. In fact, it's likely the very reason Wan Song stationed himself in Zhitian Township." The others were astonished. "Doesn't that monster feed on demons?" "I'm afraid its diet isn't that simple." He Lingchuan stared at the leafy stalks in his hand. "This thing is unusual. I may have met its creator." Yes, he remembered now. The last person who had mentioned prunella spikes to him was Dong Rui. When that man had been concocting medicine for Zhu Erniang back in Demon Nest Swamp, he had casually mentioned crafting a demon puppet for someone in Beijia Kingdom, designated Number Thirty-One. Because it was built in too much haste, the demon puppet had a defect: it had to consume prunella spikes on a regular basis. "Otherwise it won't hold together"—those had been Dong Rui's exact words. "Who was it?" "Have either of you heard the name Dong Rui?" General Ling shook his head, but Jiao Yu said, "Supposedly a notorious demon puppet master, wanted across all of Beijia." The tiger was somewhat surprised. "What does it have to do with him? Oh, you mean this monster is a demon puppet he created?" "Very likely." Dong Rui's creations were bizarre and eccentric, but they all shared one defining trait: Practicability. As long as they were employed properly, their might was formidable. "A mere demon puppet master could refine a puppet capable of devouring over a hundred porcupine demons in one go?" General Ling remained skeptical. "If he had that kind of ability, would he need to scurry around like a stray dog on the run?" "You make a good point." He Lingchuan was in no rush to refute him. "Dong Rui's demon puppets weren't that outrageous." He had fought Dong Rui's ghost apes, strange birds, and werewolves; their combat power was respectable, but when it came to slaughtering over a hundred demons without making a sound, they fell far short. Furthermore, Dong Rui had admitted that Number Thirty-One was made in great haste. In craftsmanship and refinement, it certainly could not compare to the ghost apes and werewolves he kept at his side. So where had things gone astray? Jiao Yu sniffed the warehouse floor. "The monster's scent is everywhere." He Lingchuan ran a hand along the warehouse wall. "There are also dried traces of mucus." He walked outside, beckoned the den of weasels, and asked, "How often does the master of this warehouse come by?" The weasels looked at them with glossy little eyes, squeaking, "We don't remember." Jiao Yu said coldly, "The Crown Prince's special envoy is investigating a murder case. If you dare conceal or withhold anything, you are accomplices!" Under the tiger's fierce glare, the weasels crouched low, preparing to burrow into the dirt. He Lingchuan chimed in just in time: "The owner of this warehouse specializes in hunting down wild demons, skinning them, and refining their bones. His crimes are heinous. If you have any leads, you must help us bring him to justice!" Beijia was a demon kingdom after all; anyone who dared make a living by hunting demons here was indeed guilty of monstrous crimes. The weasels exchanged glances, their resolve wavering. While they did not belong to the category of wild mountain demons, they were weak creatures all the same and could not help feeling terrified. Most importantly, He Lingchuan produced a packet of dried meat and held it out. "Something to grind your teeth on?" A weasel promptly reached out its paws, took it, weighed it, and said, "Sometimes he comes once every seven or eight days, sometimes once a fortnight." "When was the last time?" "About six days ago." "No, five days ago!" another weasel countered. "The moon was completely round that night." General Ling could not help remarking, "Then the next time should be soon." He Lingchuan saw that the warehouse was half-filled with prunella spikes, which matched the timeframe the weasels described. "Who delivers herbs to this warehouse?" "A few herb farmers nearby," the weasel answered. "They live within ten li." It then rattled off several names. Xu Dayou chimed in immediately, "I know where those folks live." He Lingchuan nodded to him, then asked the weasels, "While guarding the fields here, have you noticed anything amiss about the warehouse?" "We have," another weasel replied. "Every time Wan Song comes, we feel a chilling clamminess in the warehouse, like something strange and terrifying has appeared. None of us dares go near it." Their demon power was weak, but their spiritual perception was keen, endowed from birth with the sharpness peculiar to small animals. Having obtained the information he needed, He Lingchuan thanked them and stood up. Back inside the warehouse, Jiao Yu asked in a low voice, "What does that mean? Wan Song can carry that monster around and release it at will?" "Presumably," He Lingchuan replied. "I've seen several of Dong Rui's demon puppets. They can change size at will, and some even have their own consciousness." "If it has its own consciousness, is it still a puppet?" Wasn't a puppet called a puppet precisely because it could only move when commanded by its master, like a marionette? General Ling looked at the prunella spikes occupying half the warehouse. "As long as we don't alert him, Wan Song is still very likely to bring the demon puppet back to feed." "No." He Lingchuan shook his head. "Wealthy Wan had no idea how Wan Song and the demon puppet operated, which means they were clearly under Mr. Mai's direct control. Mr. Mai fled in advance, which proves he knew Wealthy Wan was arrested. Wan Song likely knows as well. "With Wealthy Wan in custody, the assets Wan Song entrusted to him are no longer safe—including this warehouse. If he's a clever man, he shouldn't risk coming for the prunella spikes." He Lingchuan added, "Still, we should take the gamble. What if he really is that stupid? Constable Wu, please have your men cart these prunella spikes away and lay an ambush here." Having been through so much, he knew very well the old saying: one kind of rice feeds a hundred kinds of people. Never underestimate another person's stupidity. Wu Huang acknowledged the order and departed. He Lingchuan turned to Xu Dayou. "Where else in Zhitian Township are prunella spikes regularly stockpiled? In large quantities, that is." "Stockpiled in large quantities?" Xu Dayou pondered for a moment. "Luocang might have them?" He elaborated, "That's the outbound transit hub for five towns. The warehouses there are numerous and massive, storing all kinds of herbs. Prunella spikes aren't anything precious in Zhitian Township, but if they're gathered anywhere in bulk, it'll likely be there." General Ling asked He Lingchuan, "Are we heading to Luocang now?" "Let's make some arrangements first." Next, He Lingchuan had Xu Dayou collect all the prunella spikes from the neighboring herb farmers—under eight hundred jin in total—and pile them in an open field along with all the herbs from Wan Song's warehouse, where they set the whole lot ablaze and burned it to ash. The good news was that none of these farmers had seen Wan Song recently. He Lingchuan also discussed a matter with the County Magistrate of Baishi, who readily agreed. In addition, the authorities located Wan Song's paramour in the Red Pavilion Quarter, Qinggu, and subjected her to thorough questioning. According to Qinggu, Wan Song was generous with money and always had a few companions at his side. Yet it was only ever those few. A few days earlier, Wan Song had come by to drink, sullen and glum from start to finish. When Qinggu asked, she learned that two of his friends had met their ends out on business. She also revealed that Wan Song had only two companions left. Once, when the three were drunk, a stout, dark fellow surnamed Lai said he had already acquired property in Mount Baiying and was preparing to buy out a carriage-and-horse business, having already settled on a price. Wan Song, on the other hand, grumbled that he already kept three paramours in Zhitian Township, yet none had laid an egg for him. The dark fellow had replied that those women were probably too old to be of any use. Wan Song also intended to head to Wan'an Town in the autumn to buy a few fair maidens, striving to bear fruit by next year. Only after hearing all this did He Lingchuan set off for Luocang, taking along several demons and twenty to thirty plainclothes bailiffs. *** Zhitian Township accounted for a third of Chiyan Kingdom's herbal revenue. The larger the scale of an industry, the more complete its facilities, procedures, and workflows, and the more specialized its division of labor. Here, dedicated transit warehouses had emerged, and there was even an entire town dedicated to the storage business. That town was called Luocang. When He Lingchuan arrived, he found broad, straight roads lined with warehouses and depots, bustling with the relentless turnover of freight. Carriages and horses streamed past, and people bustled to and fro. Everyone moved in a hurry, looking as though they had endless tasks to attend to. How wonderful it would be if such a scene took place in Yuan Kingdom. He Lingchuan sighed softly, thinking of the guards and carters outside the grand granaries of Dunyu, so idle they were practically catching fleas off themselves.