Chapter 3: Eighteen Pieces - The Mad Master of the Myriad Crafts

This floor had flown right out of the building. Zhang Laifu saw it clearly; there was nothing above or below, yet the windows of the neighboring units were still there.

An entire floor flying through the sky?

What kind of logic was this?

The floor suddenly veered right, sending Zhang Laifu stumbling. He steadied himself and caught a faint glimpse of the distant skyscraper through the window.

The building was still standing in its original spot, but it was missing a level. This didn't seem to have any impact on its overall structural integrity.

No wonder Zhang Laifu had counted thirty-two floors while Old Yu and Old Zheng insisted there were thirty-one.

They weren't talking nonsense. They had counted earlier, right when another floor had flown off.

"What is going on?" Zhang Laifu turned back to ask Old Song. "Why is this floor flying through the air..."

Before he could finish, the room jolted violently, and Zhang Laifu fell.

"Laifu, get back to your spot," Old Song said, helping him up and guiding him back to the bed. He spoke with the earnest tone of an elder. "Laifu, you’ve acted before. You might not be a professional, but you’ve surely seen basic special effects.

"When actors do a scene set in a car, do they actually film it in a moving car? They use a green screen on a studio set and film inside a model. The scenery passing by the window is all special effects. What’s there to be so shocked about?"

Zhang Laifu pointed out the window. "You’re telling me this is a special effect?"

"Of course! You think it’s real?" Old Song shook his head, as if lamenting Zhang Laifu’s ignorance.

Zhang Laifu shook his head incessantly. "Special effects are added in post-production. I'm seeing this with my own eyes!"

"Even if you see it with your own eyes, it doesn't make it real!" Old Song pointed toward the window. "Those are electronic screens outside. It makes the effects look more realistic so the actors can get into character. You should get into character too. Hurry up and lie down..."

As he spoke, the world outside the floor-to-ceiling window turned pitch black.

Old Song continued his explanation. "This is a visual effect for a train passing through a tunnel."

*Chuff... Chuff...*

The sound of hissing steam was perfectly clear.

"That is the auditory effect of a steam engine accelerating."

*Clack-clack, clack-clack!*

The room jolted again.

Old Song explained, "This is a kinetic effect... *Cough, cough, cough!*"

A cloud of thick smoke drifted into the room, making Old Song choke.

Zhang Laifu asked, "What kind of effect is this smoke?"

"This is—*cough*—the olfactory effect of a train in motion. These effects are getting out of hand. With this much smoke, they aren't even worried about the fire alarm."

So there was a fire alarm in this room.

Zhang Laifu thought seriously for a moment. "What's the point of an olfactory effect? Can the audience smell it?"

"Didn't you see me coughing?" Old Song closed the window. "These are auxiliary methods to help the actors get into their performance state."

The window was closed, but the breeze seeping through the cracks remained chilly.

Zhang Laifu wrapped himself tightly in his quilt and looked at Old Song. "I suppose this wind is a tactile effect?"

"Yes, it's all effects. Everything is meant to enhance the performance." Old Song also lay down on his bed, facing the window.

Old Song was a peculiar man, soft and unassuming like a ball of cotton. He always made people feel a sense of warmth; despite having kidnapped him, he somehow didn't seem frightening.

Zhang Laifu gripped his phone. He had written over a dozen messages, but because there was no signal, none had gone through.

If a message couldn't get out, could a person?

Old Zheng was in the outer room, and Old Song was in the inner room. He was trapped in a flying house of unknown principles. Escaping on his own would be far too difficult; he had to find a way to call for help.

A landscape painting on the wall suddenly lit up, startling Zhang Laifu.

Old Song said, "That's a television. Don't be nervous."

"That's a TV?" It was hidden so well.

If the phone had no signal, why did the TV work? Perhaps there was another signal source here?

"This is our company's closed-circuit television," Old Song said, seemingly sensing Zhang Laifu's thoughts.

The landscape faded, and a young, beautiful woman appeared on the screen. She wore a railway uniform and a professional smile.

"Dear passengers, welcome aboard Train 1168. Passengers already on board, please do not wander or leave your carriages. The crew is only responsible for cleaning and station announcements and will not disturb you otherwise. We wish you a pleasant journey."

The beautiful woman gave a slight smile and vanished. The ink-wash landscape on the wall quickly reappeared.

Zhang Laifu turned to Old Song. "Was that an attendant? Is this a train? A train made of building floors?"

Old Song replied, "What train? You're still in our company building. That TV program was just a work prompt. Seeing that means filming is about to start. Everyone needs to get into character immediately."

Zhang Laifu looked around. "Where are the cameras?"

Old Song shook his head. "Our company is an industry leader. We aren't like those amateur troupes; we don't use outdated equipment. There are many hidden cameras in this carriage capable of 360-degree filming. It provides plenty of material for post-editing. You don't need to worry about the angles; you just need to maintain your performance."

As his voice faded, the sound of a pipa drifted in from outside the window.

Zhang Laifu didn't know much about pipa music, but the melody was so exquisite it made his ears tingle and his body feel light, as if he were drifting away.

***

"Dear passengers, we are approaching Baiduan River Station. Passengers departing here, please gather your personal belongings and prepare to disembark."

Zhang Laifu opened his eyes dizzily. He had actually slept until evening. The landscape painting on the wall was lit up again, showing the attendant's smiling face.

Was she the only one there? Where was Old Song?

Zhang Laifu sat up and realized Old Song was no longer in the room. The curtains were drawn, but lights flashed past the window rhythmically. Judging by the frequency, the "train" was slowing down.

Zhang Laifu walked to the window and waited. A moment later, the attendant on the painting made another announcement: "Baiduan River Station has arrived."

The station was here!

Was this station also made of piled-up train cars?

Zhang Laifu pulled open the window, planning to gauge the height. If they were below the fifth floor, he intended to jump.

*Whoosh!*

A wave of intense heat surged in, forcing Zhang Laifu to slam the window shut. He touched his face and wiped away a layer of black soot from his eyebrows. His hair had also been singed. He hadn't expected the temperature outside to be so high.

The window was out. He had to use the door.

He pushed open the wooden door and looked into the outer room. Old Yu and Old Zheng were sound asleep, their snoring constant. Zhang Laifu stepped silently out of the room and into the hallway.

There were a few people in the corridor carrying luggage toward the security doors. That must be the proper way out. If he just followed them...

"Laifu, where are you going?" Old Yu stood behind him, looking at him with a smile.

Zhang Laifu answered calmly, "To the bathroom."

"I'll go with you." Old Yu escorted Zhang Laifu to the end of the hall. Zhang Laifu looked around and spotted a ladder on the wall.

"What's that for?" Zhang Laifu pointed.

Old Yu glanced at it. "A ladder, what else? It leads to the upper floor."

"Upper floor?" Zhang Laifu didn't quite understand. If a single floor was flying through the sky, what was "upstairs"?

Old Yu urged him, "What are you thinking? You really think this is a train? You’re still in our company building. This is our studio set!"

Zhang Laifu looked up at the ladder; there was light coming from above.

Old Yu grabbed him. "Stop gawking. Upstairs is another set. Don't go disturbing their filming."

Zhang Laifu continued to look around. People were boarding and disembarking; perhaps he’d have a chance to meet an attendant.

Suddenly, Old Yu said, "The attendant is here."

"Here?" Zhang Laifu tried his best to hide his excitement, searching for a uniformed figure with a calm gaze.

Before boarding, Zhang Laifu had tried to speak with the uniformed staff, but the group had blocked him. Those people had been station guards, and they seemed to fear them. They surely feared the attendants too.

Old Yu said she was here, but where?

A tile on the bathroom wall suddenly lit up. The attendant appeared. The uniformed woman appeared on the wall's television, smiling as she spoke in a sweet voice:

Old Yu pointed at the wall. "See? That's the reminder that filming is starting again. Get back to the room."

The image vanished, leaving behind the usual greyish-white tiles without a trace.

Zhang Laifu touched the tile and asked Old Yu, "How was this building constructed?"

Old Yu chuckled. "If I told you it was grown in a bowl, would you believe me?"

"Grown in a bowl?" Zhang Laifu suspected Old Yu was spouting nonsense. "I studied civil engineering. I have a higher education. I don't understand what you're saying. How can a building be grown in a bowl?"

Old Yu brushed him off. "That’s called science—the science of Myriad Lives."

"What is Myriad Lives?"

Old Yu wasn't like Old Song; he didn't have much patience for explanations. "If you have to piss, do it. If not, go back to sleep. Didn't I tell you filming has already started?"

Zhang Laifu went into the stall. When he came out, the ladder leading upstairs had vanished.

Old Yu urged again, "If you're done, let's go!"

Zhang Laifu followed Old Yu back to the room, where Old Zheng handed him a box lunch.

"Hungry, Laifu? Have some food. The train meals are pretty good."

Zhang Laifu froze. "Why would a film crew be eating train meals?"

"It's a prop. Just eat."

Zhang Laifu was indeed hungry. The meal was generous, with both meat and vegetables. Just as he started to eat, Old Yu said, "I heard you open the window earlier. You have to be careful on set. Last time, a new actor about your age tried to film a scene where he jumped off the train. He ended up being sucked under the wheels and crushed into eighteen pieces."

Zhang Laifu was startled. "Exactly eighteen pieces?"

Old Yu laughed. "I counted them. I'm Yu the Calculator—I count very fast. I don't get the floor count wrong, and I don't get the body part count wrong either. Exactly eighteen pieces."

Zhang Laifu lowered his head and ate in silence.

The two men went back to the outer room and lay on their beds. Old Zheng sighed softly. "We're already here, yet this Seedling is still restless."

Old Yu exhaled a cloud of smoke. "If Second Master hadn't stopped me, I would have broken his legs!"

"If you broke his legs, how would he walk? Do you really plan on carrying him back?" Old Zheng pointed toward the ceiling. "Did Second Master go upstairs?"

Old Yu nodded. "He just went up."

"Did the Seedling see him?"

Old Yu didn't care much. "So what if he did? He wouldn't understand it anyway! I'm not worried about the Seedling; I'm worried about Second Master's business."

Old Zheng smiled. "Second Master surely knows what he’s doing. Didn't we come to this outer prefecture specifically to help the Great Leader with Opening the Bowl?"

"Opening the Bowl?" Old Yu scoffed. "You're trying to fool even me? If it were just for the Great Leader, would Second Master really go to all this trouble?"

Old Zheng lowered his voice. "I heard Second Master mainly came this time to buy a good bowl for himself."

Old Yu shook his head slightly. "I'm afraid it's not just to buy a bowl. Second Master took such a big risk because he's here for something major."

Old Zheng was stunned. "Buying a bowl isn't major enough?"

Old Yu dropped his voice to a whisper. "There's something even bigger than buying a bowl. I heard one of Superintendent Wu's top men is boarding at Baiduan River tonight. Second Master might be after him."

"Superintendent Wu!" Old Zheng shuddered. "If the Great Leader found out about this..."

Old Yu looked at him, signaling him to stop. "The Great Leader must never find out, or none of us will survive."

The more Old Zheng thought, the more terrified he became. "We shouldn't worry about things that aren't our business. Watching that Seedling is better than anything else."

"Why watch him? What could a fool like him possibly do?"

"What if he tries to jump off the train again?"

Old Yu sneered. "Let him jump! This is the Baiduan River. Who dares go out the window? He'll burn to death the moment he jumps!"

Old Zheng was still uneasy. "If he really burns to death, how do we explain it to Second Master?"

"Don't worry, he hasn't got the guts. He wouldn't even dare go out if the window was wide open. I can keep an eye on him with half an eye closed..." Old Yu sniffed the air, sensing something was wrong. "Where is that fire..."

Old Zheng looked at the green-painted door. "The inner room! There’s smoke coming from the inner room!"

Old Yu kicked the door open and saw Song Yongchang’s luggage on fire. Flames were licking upward, and thick smoke was curling toward the ceiling. His face turned pale instantly. Old Zheng rushed into the room, using his clothes to beat out the fire.

Old Yu’s face turned from white to dark as he glared at Zhang Laifu. "Did you start this fire?"

Zhang Laifu shook his head and quickly explained, "I didn't mean to start a fire. I just wanted to test the special effects outside the window. I wanted to see how high the temperature was."

Old Yu looked at Old Song’s luggage, which was nearly half-charred. "You used the luggage to test the temperature?"

"What luggage? These are props. You have to stay in character!"

"Can you just test things with props whenever you want?"

Zhang Laifu looked genuinely puzzled. "If I don't use props, how else am I supposed to test it? Do you want me to go out and test it myself? Do you people have no sense of safety?"

He was telling the truth. He wanted to jump, he was safety-conscious, and he had used Old Song’s luggage as a thermometer. The conclusion of his experiment was that he couldn't jump.

"Now you're the one who isn't safe. Do you know why they call me Yu the Calculator?" Old Yu rolled up his sleeves. "Let me calculate whether you’re about to have a bloody disaster."

Old Zheng stepped in to stop him. "Don't be in such a hurry. Wait for Second Master to return and deal with him..."

"No need to wait for Second Master. This kid needs a lesson!"

As Old Yu walked toward him, Zhang Laifu remained calm. He wasn't afraid because the smoke alarm in the carriage had finally gone off. Zhang Laifu had burned the luggage specifically for this moment!

Just as Old Yu reached him, there was a knock at the door.

Old Zheng asked, "Who is it?"

A raspy, elderly voice came from outside. "Attendant. Open up!"

The attendant was here!

Zhang Laifu smiled. After all that effort and risk, he had finally summoned the attendant!

Old Yu and Old Zheng went to the outer room, closing the inner door behind them. "Come in!"

The attendant was an old woman holding a trash bag. She asked the two men, "The smoke alarm went off. What’s the situation?"

Old Yu remained silent, but Old Zheng smiled broadly. "We were feeling a bit stifled and opened the window. Some soot blew in."

The old woman didn't get angry; she just grumbled a bit. "Is this your first time on a train? You can't open the windows at Baiduan River."

Old Zheng nodded repeatedly. "We'll be careful next time."

The old woman asked, "Any trash that needs clearing?"

Just as Old Zheng was about to hand over a used meal box, the inner door pushed open and Zhang Laifu stepped out. He was incredibly excited; he had something to say!

This old woman clearly belonged to a non-combatant type. He couldn't be too direct, lest Old Zheng and Old Yu be driven to desperation. But given her age, if he was too subtle, she might not understand. He had to strike the right balance.

Zhang Laifu had prepared himself. As long as he played it right, he would be rescued. His goal now was to follow the old woman out of the room.

As Zhang Laifu was weighing his words, the old woman looked at him, then at Old Zheng and Old Yu. Noticing the tense atmosphere, she realized these people might be hiding something.

With a motherly smile, she added, "Are there any bodies that need clearing away?"

Zhang Laifu stared at her, unable to speak for a long time.

Sensing his hesitation, the attendant gave a brief introduction of her services. "Our disposal process is absolutely reliable. All vital organs are recycled at the current market rate."

Old Zheng and Old Yu both looked at Zhang Laifu.

Seeing that no one was speaking, the attendant specifically mentioned, "There was a little girl in the next room we just processed. The organ recycling fees have already been deposited."

The girl in the next room... Meng Xuanxuan?

Old Yu deliberately asked, "Why was that girl processed?"

The attendant sounded slightly regretful. "They were all in the same carriage, and I don't know how the fight started, but it was brutal. By the time we got there, her body was in eighteen pieces."

Old Zheng laughed. "You can process them even if they're in eighteen pieces?"

The attendant smiled easily. "Eighteen pieces is nothing. We can clean up even the smallest bits. It’s just that some of the good stuff couldn't be recovered. See for yourselves if you don't believe me."

She dragged the trash bag forward and opened it, introducing the contents one by one. "The vital organs are gone. This is what's left."

The three men leaned in to look. It was indeed Meng Xuanxuan.

Old Yu turned to Zhang Laifu. "Count them. It really is eighteen pieces!"

Zhang Laifu nodded repeatedly. "Old Yu, you really do count fast. Not a single piece missing!"

The attendant closed the bag. "Well? Do you have any bodies to dispose of or not?"

Old Yu asked Zhang Laifu, "You've got plenty of good parts. Do you want to be processed?"

"I just have some trash for you to handle." Zhang Laifu handed the meal box to the old woman and turned back into the inner room.

The attendants and the station guards were clearly not the same.

Old Zheng smiled at the attendant. "We don't have any bodies for now."

Once the attendant left, Old Yu glared at the door. "Should we teach him a lesson? Otherwise, who knows what other trouble he'll stir up!"

"Look at his scrawny frame. Could he even survive a 'lesson' from you?" Old Zheng pointed to the ceiling again. "Second Master is handling serious business right now. We must not cause him any trouble."

***

Old Song arrived on the second floor of the train. He walked through two carriages and saw two guards standing outside the door of the third. He stepped forward, removed his felt hat, pressed it to his chest, and bowed.

"Please inform Regiment Commander Wang that Song Yongchang seeks an audience."

One guard entered and returned shortly after, inviting Song Yongchang inside.

A "Regiment Commander" was a high-ranking military officer. This particular officer, Regiment Commander Wang Jixuan, was a subordinate of the newly appointed Superintendent of Southern Wansheng, Wu Jingyao. He was a man of rules and etiquette; seeing these two guards tonight, Song Yongchang felt they were indeed different from others.

This carriage was a luxury suite on Train 1168, complete with a living room, bedroom, wine cellar, and tea room.

Regiment Commander Wang was a man of upright stature. His rounded cheeks were framed by circular glasses, and his thick black hair was neatly combed back. If not for his military uniform, he would have looked like a schoolteacher.

After changing the tea leaves and adding water, Regiment Commander Wang invited Song Yongchang to sit at the tea table.

"Second Master Song, what a coincidence to run into you just as I boarded."

Song Yongchang spoke the truth directly. "Regiment Commander Wang, this was no coincidence. I went to great lengths just to catch this train."

The commander feigned surprise. "You were in such a hurry to find me?"

Song Yongchang didn't beat around the bush. "I have two urgent matters to trouble you with. First is a heart of submission; second is a passion for treasures."

Wang Jixuan thought for a moment and nodded. "I know of your heart of submission. I will report this to Superintendent Wu, but as for his arrangements, that is not for me to decide. As for this 'passion for treasures,' I haven't the slightest idea what you mean."

The water boiled, and the commander brewed the first pot. The first steep was not for drinking; it was used to wash the leaves and the cups.

Taking advantage of the moment, Song Yongchang said, "Regiment Commander, I heard that on your trip to the outer prefecture, you purchased something fine for Superintendent Wu."

The cups had been rinsed. Hearing this, Wang Jixuan left a cup soaking in the hot tea a bit longer. "From whom did you get this news? Do you know the penalty for spying on military secrets?"

Song Yongchang apologized profusely. "Please calm your anger, Commander. I truly desire this treasure."

"You want it?" Wang Jixuan laughed suddenly. "Do you want me to ask Superintendent Wu if he’d be willing to give it to you?"

The words were chilling, but Song Yongchang remained composed. If Wang Jixuan truly intended to turn hostile, he would have called the guards already.

Song Yongchang beamed. "Commander, I heard you brought back more than one treasure from your trip."

Wang Jixuan looked up. "How do you know everything? Don't you think you know too much?" He tapped the table lightly with his tweezers as if he were truly about to call for his men.

Song Yongchang explained quickly, "Commander, I have no ill intent! I heard you spent a great deal of your own money on this matter, so I came specifically to ask."

Wang Jixuan circled the rim of a tea cup with the tweezers.

*Ting.*

The sound was melodious. Wang Jixuan seemed to be in a better mood. He set the tweezers aside, picked up the teapot, and brewed the second steep. He poured a cup and pushed it toward Song Yongchang.

With this cup of tea, Song Yongchang felt much more at ease. He sat back, picked up the cup, and drained it.

The commander took a sip of his own. "I went to the outer prefecture to buy a 'bowl' for the Superintendent. The seller there was unruly. We had agreed on a price, but when it came time to do business, he changed his mind. I thought he was trying to hike the price, but it turns out he was bundling goods. He had two bowls; to buy the large one, I had to take the small one too. He refused to sell otherwise. You know that whatever the Superintendent wants, I must bring it back regardless of the cost. So, out of necessity, I paid for the small bowl out of my own pocket."

He refilled Song Yongchang’s cup. This cup carried significant weight.

Song Yongchang raised his cup. "That merchant is truly despicable. I truly admire your loyalty and selflessness, Commander."

"You flatter me. I was merely doing my duty. I owe my current position entirely to Superintendent Wu’s patronage; naturally, I must give my all. I am a man of integrity, and buying that small bowl cost me fifty thousand silver dollars—it cleaned out my pockets. Once I return, if the Superintendent wants both, perhaps I can recover my costs. If he only wants one, I'll just have to swallow the loss."

As he spoke, the commander produced a white fedora.

The hat was made of exquisite materials—top-tier rabbit felt, dense and smooth. The crown was tall with elegant lines, and the brim was firm. A grosgrain ribbon was wrapped around it with meticulous stitching. At a glance, it was a masterpiece.

However, a closer look revealed flaws. The brim’s edge wasn't perfectly pressed, and the stitching on the inner sweatband was slightly uneven—signs of a hurried job that hadn't been polished. It was clearly the work of a master, but it was a rush job. It wasn't worth fifty thousand dollars, but perhaps twenty thousand. It was still a fine piece.

This was the "bowl"—the small one the commander had been forced to buy!

"I can't let you suffer such a loss!" Song Yongchang pulled a check from his coat. "Please, sell this small bowl to me."

The commander looked at the amount and pushed it back. "I spent fifty thousand on that bowl. Why are you giving me a hundred thousand?"

Song Yongchang pushed the check back again. "This bowl is worth every penny. You got it for fifty thousand because of your reputation; anyone else would have paid two hundred thousand and still might not have gotten it. Buying it from you for a hundred thousand is already a favor to me. In the end, I'm the one getting a bargain."

"You're being too kind. I can't profit from you." Wang Jixuan tried to push it away again.

Song Yongchang stopped him. "Fifty thousand is your cost. The other fifty thousand is for a favor I must ask. I truly wish to join Superintendent Wu, but I lack a connection. I hope you can put in a good word for me."

The teapot lid rattled; the water was boiling. Wang Jixuan poured the third steep. "Old Song, since we’ll both be serving the Superintendent from now on, there’s no need for such formalities."

The deal was done. Song Yongchang was ecstatic, his excitement practically steaming like the tea.

The commander took the check and handed the hat to Song Yongchang. "Old Song, your desire to leave the darkness for the light is commendable, and I'm sure the Superintendent won't turn you away. But we must carefully consider the identity you'll use to enter his service."

"Commander, I'm not picky. I'll be satisfied as long as I can serve him!"

Wang Jixuan stared at him for a moment. "With your status and strength, I think being a Company Commander would be a waste of your talents. You should be at least a Regiment Commander like me."

Song Yongchang waved his hands frantically. "You're overestimating me. How could I ever stand on equal footing with you? It would be the blessing of several lifetimes just to find a post under your command."

The commander gestured for him to stop. "I said we're on the same side, why are you still so formal? Let me be blunt: the Superintendent detests bandits. You can't go to him empty-handed; you must bring a grand gift."

Song Yongchang nodded. "I understand. I will certainly provide a grand gift."

The commander blew on his hot tea and asked, "How do you plan to deliver it?"

The question was so pointed that Song Yongchang didn't know how to answer. He couldn't exactly brag about his plan to betray his own people.

The commander finished his tea and continued, "I heard the Lin family's third son, Lin Shao-cong, has gone missing. Do you think it’s possible the Dragon Gorge Stronghold is behind it?"

"Surely not!" Song Yongchang shook his head immediately. "I haven't heard a word about that."

The commander smiled. "You haven't heard? Well, let’s just say, hypothetically, if the Dragon Gorge Stronghold did it, do you think the Lin family would go to war with them?"

"I still think it's unlikely. The third Lin son is a fool; the family doesn't care for him at all." Song Yongchang picked up the teapot to refill the commander's cup, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

The commander sighed. "No matter how little they care, he is still a Lin. He represents their prestige. The Lin family has been entrenched in Black Sand Pass for years and was personally appointed by the Grand Marshal. They have men, money, and status. If they truly fought the Dragon Gorge Stronghold, who do you think would win?"

Song Yongchang brought the cup to the commander. "I still think... they won't fight."

The commander took the cup and looked him in the eye. "It’s just a hypothesis. If they *did* fight, who do you think would benefit?"

Holding the tea, the commander kept his gaze fixed on Song Yongchang. Song Yongchang knew he couldn't hide it anymore. He stood up and answered respectfully, "When that day comes, I will have to rely on your support, Commander."

"No need for such modesty. Suppressing bandits is a soldier's duty, and we are on the same side! The five Grand Marshals of Wansheng Prefecture have picked the place clean; how much is left for the twenty-eight Superintendents? Superintendent Wu is looking forward to a talent like you!" The commander pulled him back into his seat to continue their tea.

***

Back in his room, Zheng the Lute quickly explained the situation. "Second Master, that Seedling went crazy and burned your luggage."

Song Yongchang looked at the charred bags and criticized Zhang Laifu sternly. "Laifu, you must have the discipline of a professional actor. You must take care of the props!"

He didn't care! He truly didn't care at all!

Song Yongchang didn't care because his truly important items were on his person. Once he had sent Old Yu and Old Zheng away, he looked at Zhang Laifu. "Laifu, time to sleep. Get into character immediately."

"Fine." Zhang Laifu lay on the bed, wrapped in the quilt, pondering his next move. If he couldn't go through the attendant, what else could he do?

*Thump! Ting-ting-ting!*

A rhythmic tapping sound reached his ears. Zhang Laifu thought Old Song was painting, but then he realized his quilt was rapidly expanding.

*Pop!*

The quilt tore open. The cotton stuffing inside began to crawl over him like living threads. Zhang Laifu tried to sit up, but his waist and legs wouldn't bend; he couldn't move. He tried to brace himself with his arms, but as soon as he moved, the fine cotton fibers sliced into his flesh, drawing blood.

In his agony, Zhang Laifu tried to scream, but it felt like his throat was stuffed with something, and he couldn't make a sound.

Old Song stood by the bed, looking down at him. "Laifu, twenty thousand a month—why wouldn't you want such a good job? I actually like you. I wanted you to act with ease and comfort, but you have no respect for the rules. From now on, don't speak unless you have lines, and don't move unless it's part of the scene. Do you understand what it means to have the discipline of an actor now?"