A Mason Has No Fine House

Seeing that he had put life and death entirely out of mind, He Lingchuan leaned in a little closer and asked, "Do you still remember Qinggu?" "A woman from the Red Pavilion Quarter." Wan Song sneered. "Are you actually trying to threaten me with her?" "Wan Xianneng wouldn't even register on your radar, so what the hell is she?" He Lingchuan smiled as well. "I'm talking about the child in her belly—" Wan Song's expression shifted slightly as he heard the young man draw out the words: "—which is to say, your child." Wan Song froze, then burst into loud laughter. "Aha, ha ha ha... Ouch!" It tugged at his wounds, sending a wave of searing pain through him. Yet the worse it hurt, the more he wanted to laugh. "You... you're saying Qinggu is pregnant with my kid?" Tears nearly welled in his eyes. "Can't you at least draft a halfway believable lie first?" He Lingchuan sighed. "You're already at death's door. Why bother keeping secrets for Mr. Mai?" "I just love watching you people clutch at straws!" Wan Song drew two ragged breaths. "Once I'm dead, you won't be able to turn in your report either, and you'll be just as screwed!" A pair of bloody flushes actually rose to his cheeks, and his spirits rallied considerably. He Lingchuan knew this was the terminal rally before death. Patiently waiting for Wan Song to finish laughing, He Lingchuan said leisurely, "Fine, you brought this on yourself. The physician checked the timeline; the dates line up. During that period, you were Qinggu's only patron. Don't you remember? About a hundred days ago, after coming into a large sum of money, you generously bought out her time for a whole month." "I met with her just a few days ago, and she didn't mention a single word about this!" "Of course she didn't. She doesn't even know it herself. Some women don't show at all even three months into pregnancy," He Lingchuan said. "It wasn't until we locked her in the cells and she suddenly fainted that a physician came to check her pulse." "Words are cheap, you're just making things up!" Wan Song snarled. "Women like Qinggu take precautions. There's no way she could be pregnant!" "Believe it or not, suit yourself." He Lingchuan pointed at his severed leg. "I already had someone slice off some of your flesh, and Qinggu is waiting outside right now. If you don't believe it, we can cut her belly open right now, take out the fetus, and test whether it's your flesh and blood." Wan Song scoffed. "Do whatever you want." He Lingchuan nodded to a bailiff nearby. The man walked out at once and soon returned carrying a woman, laying her on the other bed beside Wan Song. The woman was unconscious; it was indeed Qinggu. Wan Song frowned. "What happened to her?" "Time is precious, so I had no choice but to knock her out first." He Lingchuan spread his hands. "You didn't think I'd cut her open while she was awake, did you? I'm not that cruel." He turned to ask the physician beside him, "I've never cut out such a young fetus. How big is a three-month fetus?" The physician held up a finger. "About the length of a finger." "Can you tell if it's a boy or a girl?" "Yes, the form is already beginning to take shape." He Lingchuan pointed at Qinggu. "Alright, get to it." The physician hesitated. "This..." He was in the business of saving lives, not killing. "You can't do it?" "My Lord, this..." "Never mind, I'll do it myself." He Lingchuan pulled a dagger from his boot, grabbed a cloth from the tray beside Wan Song to wipe it, and nimbly twirled the blade. Wan Song sneered, unconvinced. This fellow was bluffing. Even if she really was pregnant, even if it really was his seed, what good would cutting it out do? Would killing his child make him cooperate? "You cut off my path, so I'll wipe out your bloodline. It gains me nothing, but it vents my spleen, and that's good enough." He Lingchuan patted Wan Song's cheek with the flat of the dagger, flashing a sinister smile. "Come on, let's hurt each other." Wan Song glared at him with venom. He Lingchuan walked over to Qinggu and slashed with the dagger, cutting through her inner and outer robes in one stroke. The physician pulled aside the torn fabric, exposing the woman's belly. His strike was so fast it left an afterimage, yet carried an air of sheer indifference. Caught off guard, Wan Song felt his brow twitch. He Lingchuan had already spread his divine sense, taking in every minute detail of Wan Song's expression without even looking up, and now had a clear read on him. "Your last chance." He Lingchuan prodded Qinggu's belly. Wan Song's gaze narrowed as he saw He Lingchuan was using the dagger's hilt. "The crimes you've committed are enough to execute your entire clan—there's no escaping that. But the higher-ups don't know there's another Wan waiting to be born. As long as I don't say anything, and the physician here doesn't say anything, you can still leave behind your seed in this world. What do you say? Will you cooperate?" Wan Song sneered and said nothing, but He Lingchuan noticed the muscles bunching along his jaw—he was likely clenching his teeth in secret. The physician at his side couldn't help but say, "My Lord, make the first cut only half an inch deep..." "What, afraid of hurting the fetus?" He Lingchuan gave a half-smile and said to Wan Song, "Keep your eyes wide open and see whether your spawn is a boy or a girl." With that, he pressed the blade just below Qinggu's navel and drew it across. Wan Song watched with his own eyes as the dagger's tip sank in. Convinced that the other man was truly ruthless enough to slice open her belly to rip out the unborn child, he finally screamed, "Stop!" Blood trickled down Qinggu's belly, though not much. He Lingchuan paused his hand on the dagger, cocked his head, and asked, "Are you confessing or not?" "I'll talk." Wan Song drew in a breath. "Don't hurt it." Callous as he was, on the threshold of death he still desperately wished for his lineage to carry on in the world. "Now that's more like it. Mr. Mai is only your employer, not your real father. Why sacrifice your own son's life to protect him?" He Lingchuan mused. "Oh, wait—he wouldn't happen to actually be your father, would he?" "No." Only then did He Lingchuan sheath the dagger, wipe the blood from the tip, and say to the physician, "Carry her out and stop the bleeding." At this point, Wan Song didn't care about looking weak and urgently asked the physician, "Is my child all right?" The physician took her pulse carefully and shook his head. "It's fine." The others then carried Qinggu out. He Lingchuan sat back down. "All right, be straightforward. I spared your child's life. What do you have to repay me with?" Wan Song closed his eyes, slumping in defeat. "What do you want to ask?" "What are pulp beads used for?" He Lingchuan began tossing out questions. "Why are so many of them being consumed?" "Swear an oath first." Wan Song was no fool. "Ensure my child's safety." "Fine. I swear to Heaven that I will never harm Wan Song's offspring. Satisfied?" Wan Song finally said, "They are one of the primary ingredients for concocting Longevity Pills—that is to say, elixirs of immortality. As for how they're refined or what other ingredients are needed, I don't know any of that." "Elixir of immortality?" He Lingchuan's mind stirred. That name sounded so familiar. In the illusion within the ruins of Thousand Stars City, he seemed to recall the late King of Yuan mentioning it. "What does taking it do?" "It's just... I heard it can extend the user's lifespan." Wan Song coughed a few times, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. "Originally it was called the Longevity Pill, but later they simply adopted the name of the ancient immortal elixir, 'elixir of immortality.' But I've never used it, so I can't be sure." "You hunt pulp beads for Mr. Mai day in and day out; why haven't you gotten yourself a dose of this elixir of immortality to try?" "Easy for you to say," Wan Song said coldly. "Is that the kind of thing someone like me is worthy of consuming?" He cast a glance at He Lingchuan. "You don't need to probe around the edges. I've never seen the finished product, nor could I ever see it. A mason has no fine house; a carpenter has no fine bed. That's just the way it is." "Then who takes it?" "I don't know. My only job was turning in pulp beads for silver." Wan Song rolled his eyes. "Who else could use something like that? The rich and the powerful, of course." "Tell me about the messenger from Lingxu City." With several demons around him, He Lingchuan brought up the question that concerned them most. "Why did you kill it?" "I didn't know beforehand." Wan Song sounded rather helpless. "If I had known, why would I have laid a hand on it and courted my own destruction?" "How did you find it?" He Lingchuan found it strange. "An eastern imperial eagle flies in the sky; how did you know when it would land?" "There is a small lake outside Shuangyi Town with clear water and plenty of fish and shrimp. Many migratory birds stop there to rest, including quite a few avian demons," Wan Song recalled. "Those days, we hadn't found any suitable demons in the wild, so Mr. Mai ordered us to try our luck by the lake near Shuangyi City. When we got there, we spotted the eastern imperial eagle... It was drinking water, the largest and most conspicuous of all, and the other birds kept well clear of it. Demons like that yield the most pulp beads, so we set our sights on it." He licked his lips. "It was already evening, and we figured the eastern imperial eagle would roost there for the night, so we waited until dark before striking. The process went smoothly, without any hitches." "The eastern imperial eagle was killed in its sleep?" He Lingchuan knew that unless they were carrying lengthy dispatches, flying messengers mostly carried verbal messages. Keeping it off paper made the intelligence far more secure. Yet conversely, precisely because there was no written message, the eagle had died an utterly senseless death. "...Yes." "In other words, choosing this eastern imperial eagle as your target was purely coincidental, not planned in advance?" "We can't predict the future." Wan Song paused to catch his breath. He Lingchuan waited a few breaths, and seeing that Wan Song was drifting into unconsciousness, had no choice but to reach out and nudge him. "Pull yourself together. If you fall asleep now, you'll never wake up." Wan Song slowly came to. "Tell me more about Mr. Mai. How did this man come into the picture?" This time, Wan Song pondered for quite a while before dredging up the memory. "Originally, my superior was named Bai. A few years ago, he was replaced by Mr. Mai. Mai had a much better temper than Bai, was very genial, and fought for higher pay on our behalf. On two New Year's occasions, he even sent us holiday goods." "How do you know he took over Bai's post rather than killing him and taking his place?" "The talisman tokens and passphrases matched," Wan Song said impassively. "As long as our pay came on time, I couldn't care less about the rest." "Who is Mr. Mai's superior?" Since Wan Song's superior could be replaced, it meant Mr. Mai was not the highest authority. "I don't know, I've never seen them." Seeing He Lingchuan frown, Wan Song feared he was displeased and added, "But that person should live in the north. Both times Mr. Mai brought us New Year's goods, they were local specialties from Baishaqu. And once..." "Hmm?" "Once, Mr. Mai suddenly requested the snail-toad to be deployed—not to hunt demons, but to transport someone." "Oh?" He Lingchuan grew intrigued. "Who?" "Four people in all, every one of them wearing a mask. I don't know where they came from. But their leader was a woman—not only could you tell from her figure, but she also thanked Mr. Mai. Mr. Mai told her it wasn't necessary, that he was merely returning a favor, and made her swear never to disclose the snail-toad's existence to anyone."