The Coffin Carriage

Li Huowang listened in silence as the Chief Recorder rambled on. If the man were merely reciting fabricated history, it wouldn’t have frightened the eunuch so badly. There had to be another reason.

“He’s easy to recognize. He carries a fan with four characters on it: ‘Heaven-given talents.’ If you ever run into him, remember to stay as far away as possible. He’s no pushover.” As he spoke, the Chief Recorder’s eyes were filled with deep wariness.

Li Huowang thought for a moment, then probed cautiously: “Chief Recorder, that day when you came out of the Buddha-Bone Temple and asked me that question… was it because Zhuge Yuan’s ability is strange?”

“Hm…” The Chief Recorder nodded. “That man has some way of altering fate.”

“Altering fate?”

“Not changing a person’s life—changing Heaven’s Mandate. He has an old almanac. Whatever he says is ‘auspicious’ will definitely happen. Whatever he says is ‘inauspicious’ will bring bad luck for sure.”

“Speak and the law follows?!” Li Huowang was genuinely stunned. He had seen quite a bit on his journey so far, but this was the first time he had encountered such a divine power.

If such a person held goodwill toward him, it would be like having an immense mountain at his back. But if that person harbored ill intent…

After deliberating for a moment, Li Huowang spoke again: “Chief Recorder, does this man use his ability more for good deeds or evil deeds?”

“How would I know? The only thing I know is that whenever he shows up, nothing good happens! A real jinx!”

Having said this, his throat dry, the Chief Recorder picked up a teacup and took a sip.

“Alright, I’ve already told you more than I should. That’s breaking the rules as it is. Do your job well. You’re a decent sort. If you handle this properly, I’ll see about moving you up a rank in the Office when we get back.”

“Thank you, Chief Recorder.” Li Huowang turned and left. His expression was still grim as he looked down at the wrapped spindle.

Even though he had learned some information about Zhuge Yuan from the Chief Recorder, he still couldn’t tell whether the man’s goodwill toward him was genuine or fake.

If it was genuine… that defied logic. But if it was fake… that defied logic even more! What was this man’s real purpose?

“Asking questions like this won’t get me anywhere. I need to figure out something from this spindle first—find out what it is.

“But that can wait. Helping the Chief Recorder find the Mind-Turbid and getting information about the North Wind is the priority.”

Not long after Li Huowang left the modest study, a gray-haired old woman emerged from behind a folding screen.

Though her face was lined with wrinkles, one could tell from her features that she must have been beautiful in her youth.

The old woman looked at the Chief Recorder with concern. “Husband, is this man reliable?”

“Ah… I can’t say for sure. This fellow came all the way from far away to Daliang—who knows where his roots lie. But reliable or not, I have to use him. There’s no way I can let those up in the capital find out that I’ve bungled this!”

A worried expression on her face, the old woman walked over and took the Chief Recorder’s jewel-adorned hand in hers.

“Husband, if it truly comes to it, wouldn’t it be better to retire from office? Living in constant fear every day—what’s the point of holding on for a few more decades?”

“Ha… easy to say. It’s not that simple.”

His face bitter, the Chief Recorder pulled a red handkerchief from his left sleeve and dabbed the sweat from his forehead.

“This matter comes from high above. It’s a job from the Imperial Preceptor. There might even be a hint of the Emperor’s own will in it. A small fry like me getting tangled up in something this big… if I can get out of this cleanly, I’ll count myself lucky.”

The old woman gently embraced him, her voice carrying a hint of pleading. “Brother, when this is over, let’s go back. Let’s go back to Liupan, back to the mulberry tree where we spent our childhood, and live out our old age together.

“When I left the village, you said you wanted me to enjoy the good life. But really, it doesn’t matter where we are. As long as I’m with you, I’m the happiest I can be.”

The Chief Recorder patted the old woman’s back with his red handkerchief but said nothing.

The Chief Recorder seemed to be in a hurry, ordering everyone to assemble at the Silver Mound city gate before dawn the next morning.

So, before the sun had even risen, Li Huowang woke up early. He went straight to the stable, pulled back the carriage curtain, and cut a piece of flesh from the writhing, tentacled monster inside. He wrapped it in cloth to eat on the road.

After that, he threw some dried meat rations into the carriage, then picked up a wooden board and began nailing it shut.

He had no idea how long this trip would take. To be safe, it was better to seal everything tight.

Before long, under Li Huowang’s hammering, the carriage had been turned into a large coffin.

Once he was done, he loaded his luggage onto the horse, mounted it, and rode toward the city gate.

“Woof woof!” Mantou followed him, as expected.

“Stay put and watch the carriage! If I come back and hear you’ve been out fighting other dogs again, I’m putting you in a pot and boiling you!”

In the early morning, the streets were mostly empty except for a few vendors setting up their stalls. Li Huowang reached the city gate quickly.

Hong Da and Tuoba Danqing were already there, as expected. But to Li Huowang’s surprise, there were two new faces beside them.

Counting the Chief Recorder and himself, that made six people in total. It was clear the man was determined to succeed.

One of the newcomers was that kid from the Moon Gate Sect, Liu Zongyuan. The other was a spirit-dancer.

Li Huowang carefully examined the drum at the man’s waist. He was certain it was a spirit-dancer’s drum—exactly the same kind as the one Li Zhi had worn.

But unlike Li Zhi, who had looked like a beggar, this man was completely different.

He wore a black fur coat. His face was covered in brutal, scarred flesh, with two diagonal black knife scars slashing across it. He would have looked more at home carrying a cleaver than a drum.

Li Huowang exchanged greetings with the others, then turned to the scar-faced man. “You’re a spirit-dancer? Where’s your Second Spirit?”

The scar-faced man, who had been leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, glared at him. “Who the fuck are you? You think you can tell me what to do?”

When he saw that Li Huowang had already drawn his sword half an inch from its scabbard, the Moon Gate Sect disciple Liu Zongyuan quickly stepped between them to mediate.

“Hey, hey, hey—Brother Hong Zhong, there’s no need for that, really no need. Do it for my sake, how about it?”

Looking at Liu Zongyuan in front of him, Li Huowang pressed his hand down, and the murderous aura around him instantly vanished.

“Come on, let’s go over there. Let’s not make things difficult for the Chief Recorder.”

He might not have given face to anyone else, but Liu Zongyuan had helped him once. So Li Huowang decided not to stoop to that man’s level.

Looking at the wooden mask on Liu Zongyuan’s face, Li Huowang asked, “Brother Liu, how have you been lately?”

“Same as always. Let’s just help the Chief Recorder get through this first. If he’s in trouble, none of us will be fine either.”

That was true enough. They were all in the same boat now. If the Chief Recorder fell from grace, there would be no one to fulfill the promises he had made.

“What’s that guy’s background? Why would the Chief Recorder hire a fellow spirit-dancer? From what I know, your kind aren’t exactly… powerful.”

“Sigh, that’s a bit of a hasty judgment on your part. Three hundred and sixty trades, and every one has its master. Even spirit-dancers can be formidable.”