Shisan Lang was shackled and chained as the bailiffs pushed and shoved him into the prison cell. Along the way, he had tested the strength of his restraints and confirmed he could easily break them, but thinking that forcing his way out might implicate Jiu Niang, he could only endure and wait for Wei Xun’s assistance.

Bao Lang had received advance notice and stood at the prison entrance to greet him. Thinking he had finally captured the real culprit, his eyes flashed with cold light, though his lips curved in a gentle smile.

“Little master, do you know who I am?”

Shisan Lang looked at him with clear eyes and said: “The officials introduced you along the way – you must be Special Envoy Bao Lang.”

Bao Lang smiled and asked: “Then who might you be?”

Shisan Lang answered calmly and steadily: “This humble monk is Shanyuan. I greet the Special Envoy. With shackles on my body, please forgive me for not performing full courtesy.”

Bao Lang was quite surprised. Though this novice was young, his demeanor was completely composed, showing none of the terror displayed by the other bald men they had arrested previously. He thought that only such extraordinary figures from the martial world could steal treasures from Buddha’s pagoda – clearly not an ordinary monk who ate vegetarian meals and chanted sutras. So he signaled to the jailers with his eyes, having them draw their blades and maintain strict vigilance.

Bao Lang showed him the prisoner hanging from the rafters in a state worse than death, and the red-hot branding irons in copper basins, threatening: “Seeing these scenes in the prison, are you not afraid?”

Shisan Lang said clearly: “How could I not be afraid? But with a righteous body, I need not fear a crooked shadow. I did not steal the pearl. If fate decrees I must suffer this tribulation, then fear cannot help me escape it. Buddha said: ‘All fruits arise from causes, all retributions arise from karma.’ From whom this calamity of the serpent pearl truly originated – there must be karmic retribution waiting for that person. Perhaps the white snake has returned seeking vengeance?”

“Vengeance?! Haha, hahahaha!” Upon hearing this, Bao Lang’s expression changed dramatically. After a spine-chilling burst of laughter, he said: “I’ll tell you the truth – I personally slayed that white snake and seized this pearl with my own hands! Even if that demon resurrects to cause trouble, I can still split it in half again, let alone deal with a bald thief like you who spreads heretical nonsense!”

He then commanded the jailers: “Begin the torture!”

The jailers immediately came over to remove the wooden cangue, preparing to hang the novice from the rafters.

Shisan Lang said: “Wait a moment.”

Bao Lang sneered: “Just now you were talking tough, but before even one lash falls, you’re ready to confess?”

Shisan Lang said: “That’s not it. Please let me first remove my monk’s robes and shoes. These small-sized robes are hard to come by – you can’t buy properly fitting ones even at second-hand clothing shops. If they’re torn and bloodied, this humble monk truly has no means to purchase replacements.”

Bao Lang was stunned, then burst into loud laughter.

Clouds obscured the sky and the moonlight was dim. The buildings on both sides of the street stood quietly, and deep into the night, no light remained in the windows. Wei Xun hurried toward the craftsmen’s encampment, worried that Bao Lang might go harass the Reflection Hall again, wanting to resolve this matter quickly. Suddenly he heard a series of thud-thud-thud footsteps behind him. He stopped, and the footsteps also stopped. When he resumed walking, the footsteps followed in step.

Never having encountered such a crude and clumsy tracker, Wei Xun sighed and turned around, waiting for her to catch up.

Baozhu emerged from the darkness with her head lowered. The sleeves of her barbarian-style clothing were torn, her shoulder had a ripped seam, and she was covered in wall dust – clearly the result of climbing through windows and over walls.

The outward-facing window of the Reflection Hall wasn’t too high, but it was nearly two zhang. For her to climb down by herself without assistance made Wei Xun’s heart race with lingering fear. He said sternly: “Shisan Lang has poor lightness skills – if he fell, he’d just tumble once. If you fell, you could break your spine or neck. How could Old Yang not stop you?!”

Baozhu also felt disheveled and ungainly, but had no ability to climb back up and change clothes. She said glumly: “I deliberately sent Secretary Yang away, telling him to go make tea.”

Wei Xun listened carefully to her footsteps and breathing, which seemed normal, then asked: “Did you scrape your hands or feet anywhere?”

Baozhu couldn’t swallow her pride, feeling underestimated, and proudly raised her head: “What, are you and your fellow disciples the only ones in the world who know martial arts? I’ve also practiced martial arts since childhood. It’s not like I’ve never been injured – I’ve even fallen from a startled horse!”

Wei Xun was at a loss with her and could only say: “Yes, yes, you’re the world’s greatest master. Should I escort you back, or…”

Baozhu snorted: “I’m not going back! It’s deep night anyway, so no one will see my torn clothes. Without my guidance, you might not be able to find that pearl tonight either.” She walked to Wei Xun’s side, indicating she wanted to go to the craftsmen’s camp together.

Since they had already found the source of the note, they had discussed that if they could recover the stolen white snake pearl early, they might be able to solve the case directly and clear Shisan Lang of suspicion, sparing him from having a fugitive’s status after the jailbreak. Huo Qi had left the city to prepare equipment. Wei Xun had been constantly worried about Baozhu staying alone in the Reflection Hall, so having her by his side where he could watch her personally made him feel much more at ease, and he didn’t try to persuade her to return.

Baozhu didn’t know how Shisan Lang would endure the night and still looked deeply worried. Wei Xun comforted her: “That kid has thick skin – he’s been beaten since childhood during training. If you had fallen from that window, you might have been injured worse than him.”

Baozhu thought to herself that when she learned archery and horsemanship, everyone around her was terrified she might get even the slightest scratch, as they would all be implicated and punished. Her teachers never dared raise their voices at her, always coaxing her with kind words. But under Chen Shigu’s tutelage, it sounded like one would suffer greatly. She asked softly: “Did you also get beaten a lot when you practiced as a child?”

Wei Xun was startled as many old memories rose like sediment from the bottom of a dark river, bubbling to the surface. He quickly pressed them back down and laughed lightly: “Not really. As long as I ran fast enough, Master couldn’t hit me, which is why I practiced lightness skills. Those who ran slowly had to practice the Indestructible Diamond Body like Fourth Fatty.”

Baozhu was somewhat puzzled, thinking: But what about before you could run fast enough?

The two traveled together to where the craftsmen gathered. Deep in the night, most campfires in the encampment had been extinguished, leaving only one or two glowing embers burning slowly in the darkness, dimly outlining the silhouettes of various tents and shelters. Wei Xun remained alert and vigilant, guarding against the unseen master who might harm Baozhu from the shadows.

Passing through the craftsmen’s sleeping quarters, they reached a corner by the city wall and came to that strange grave that had been buried at dusk. The simple burial mound had already been completed, with two people huddled beside it, cooking porridge over a campfire.

Even Baozhu found this odd and whispered: “Is this some folk funeral custom?”

Wei Xun shook his head.

Seeing strangers visiting deep in the night and lingering there, the two men became somewhat panicked and stood up shouting: “What wild lovebirds have come here to whisper sweet nothings at a gravesite!”

Wei Xun laughed: “That’s still better than chatting and having midnight snacks on a fresh grave.”

One of them picked up a carpenter’s chisel and scolded: “Are you here looking for trouble?”

Wei Xun paid no attention and said unhurriedly: “I’m here on business. Aren’t you craftsmen from Changzhou? I want to commission a seven-inch gold and silver inlaid lacquerware box as a gift.”

The two men were both shocked and suspicious, saying: “We’re not lacquerers – we can’t make that.”

Baozhu said: “Perhaps you could make it if you saw the design?” She produced the lacquer box pattern she had rubbed with stone ink, showing it to the two men, and added: “It would be best if a lacquerer named ‘Faming’ could make it personally.”

She described the details of the container that held the white snake pearl as a test. Sure enough, the two men looked as if they had seen a ghost, their faces filled with terror, and they turned to flee.

Seeing Wei Xun standing motionless, Baozhu asked: “Aren’t you going to catch them?”

Wei Xun said: “No rush. You can avoid the first day but not the fifteenth. With the grave here, the main culprit can’t escape.”

After a while, seven or eight people indeed came clustered around a limping man with a crutch – it was the same cripple they had encountered by chance outside Lotus Temple that morning.

Baozhu remembered clearly – this craftsman leader had gone to the county office to request that Wu Zhiyuan open the city gates to let them out. She had heard then that these Changzhou craftsmen had come from Xuzhou together with Bao Lang. Bao Lang went to Chang’an to present the pearl, while the craftsmen went to work on her tomb. Princess Wanshou had died suddenly, and after the underground palace was sealed, the spirit way stele hadn’t been erected yet. The enjoyment hall, sacrificial altar, stone figures and horses were all unprepared, waiting for various types of laborers – stele carvers, stonemasons, carpenters, lacquerers and others – to construct them.

The cripple also recognized this pair of young people and showed surprise. In a hoarse voice, he asked: “I hear the young gentleman wants a lacquer box made as a gift?”

Wei Xun nodded: “Correct. You must be the lacquerer Faming?”

The cripple shook his head: “No, I’m a stele carver.”

Wei Xun immediately exchanged glances with Baozhu, knowing they had found the right person. Even if this cripple hadn’t commented on her calligraphy outside Lotus Temple, they could have tracked him down through his trade.

Wei Xun said: “If you can’t make lacquer boxes, that’s fine – I’ll commission a tombstone instead.”

He pulled out the eight-character note he had stolen from Bao Lang, folded it in half on both sides, and held it cupped in his palm with only a bit of ink showing at the edges, showing it to him: “Can you carve this type of script?”

Upon seeing this note, the cripple’s face immediately turned ashen as dead wood. His hands trembling, he dropped his crutch and fell to his knees with a thud.

“Since the gentleman has already tracked me down here, please take me to the authorities. I, Chen Yu, wrote this note. I was the one who climbed the tower and stole the night pearl!”

Both Wei Xun and Baozhu were secretly startled. They hadn’t expected someone involved in such a far-reaching major case to confess so easily, and they found it hard to believe. This cripple not only used a crutch but was severely disabled with foot problems. Even an able-bodied person would find it difficult to climb the multi-treasure pagoda to steal the pearl – how could this cripple possibly have climbed up there?