By his features, that person looked about thirty years of age. Surprisingly, he was a quadriplegic; his limbs had shrunk to the size of those of a child's, his exposed arms atrophied and wrinkled. His head was disproportionately huge and his neck was tilted to the side, as though it could not straighten one bit. He did not resemble a human at all, and looked greatly frightening. He sat on a wooden wheelchair, which slowly rolled out from that hole.
Ye Baiyi's forehead creased slowly as he stared at that person. All of a sudden, he said, "You are not Long Que."
Long Que and his Puppet Manor was a legend that had been circulating in the jianghu for a few decades; there was no way that the real Long Que could be this young. That person on the wheelchair emitted a screeching laugh, and said, "Of course, I am not."
His eyes were extremely wide. Wen Kexing furtively whispered to Zhou Zishu, "Look at his eyes, don't they look like they're about to fall out?"
Zhou Zishu felt that Wen Kexing had nothing better to do, as though Wen Kexing needed to jump at every opportunity to say something pointless no matter the situation, in order to feel like he had recouped whatever he had invested. He ignored him.
The person on the wheelchair screeched, "Who are you? You dare to barge into the Puppet Manor?"
Ye Baiyi gave this person a once-over, and was of the opinion that this person had a peculiar temperament and did not look to be a good person. Forcing himself to be patient with great difficulty, he spoke in an appropriate tone of voice, "I have matters to see Long Que about."
From Ye Baiyi's perspective, he was speaking pleasantly, but to the ears of others, he was still speaking in that same unpleasantly stiff and arrogant manner. The person in the wheelchair turned his head around. Giant eyes regarded him, and a while later, he finally humphed coldly, saying, "That old numbskull Long Que, he's been dead long enough that even what's left of his bones have decomposed. Why are you looking for him?"
The trench between Ye Baiyi's eyebrows was growing deeper and deeper. He stared at that person and asked, "Long Que is dead? How did he die?"
That person on the wheelchair said smugly, "Of course, I was the one who killed him."
This was too unbelievable; trespassing the Puppet Manor made the three great experts of the present age extremely bedraggled, and they had nearly died within it. How could he, a person who couldn't even walk, enter without being harmed at all and kill the master of the Puppet Manor?
Evidently, Ye Baiyi did not know what 'tact' was; he looked this person up and down, and said, "Don't talk bullshit. If you can kill Long Que, a termite can shake an enormous tree. Unless you're Long Que's son--then he'd lie down, stay still and let you hack away at him."
Once he heard this, Wen Kexing knew that things were going to get worse, and immediately told Zhang Chengling, "Get out of here, quick, run!"
Indeed, even before his words died down, that strange person on the wheelchair roared in rage, "You're seeking your own death!"
He raised his hand and clapped it on the armrest. Human shapes, so many that they appeared as a tightly-packed mass, protruded from the four walls of the great hall. Thereafter, ten-odd bare-headed, polished puppets with ferocious expressions swarmed out from all directions. As he ran towards the exit, Zhang Chengling was unable to avoid them in time, and crashed straight into a puppet. That puppet was rather uncourteous, and rotated its elbow to split his skull open.
Zhou Zishu instantly flicked his finger, hitting Zhang Chengling directly in the knee so that he collapsed to his knees with a 'thud' and just barely dodged the attack. Zhang Chengling scrambled over to him, surveyed their surroundings, slack-jawed, and exclaimed, "Shifu, are we in Hell?"
Zhou Zishu sighed, knowing that he was fated to only ever brush shoulders with the word "pampered". Slapping Wen Kexing's arm away, he slotted Zhang Chengling between them and stood back to back with Wen Kexing, speaking in a low voice, "Of these artificial puppets, one is tough, and the other can't be killed. But there are also benefits to them."
Wen Kexing asked curiously, "There are still benefits?"
Zhou Zishu said, "One can't jump, and the other is stupid."
In the time he took to speak, two puppets had launched separate attacks from the two sides. Wen Kexing picked Zhang Chengling up. As though he had a telepathic connection with Zhou Zishu, they leapt in two separate directions at the same time. Instantly, those puppets lost their targets, crashed hard into each other, and toppled to the ground, entangled.
Wen Kexing swept his gaze over them. With a lecherous smile on his face, he covered Zhang Chengling's eyes and sighed, "Looking at this top and this bottom struggling, it's like watching a pornographic picture start to move."
Once Zhou Zishu landed, a puppet brought a huge stick down at his head. He flipped away to avoid it, feeling a burning pain from his chest to his throat, as though even the slightest cough could bring a mouthful of blood up, and gritted his teeth tight to hold his coughing back.
That puppet missed his strike, and continued pursuing him in dissatisfaction. It swept the stick at his chest, and Zhou Zishu bent backwards at the waist to avoid the blow. Spying the movement, Wen Kexing could not help but murmur, "That waist is sure flexible."
Before that puppet could deliver its third strike, he lifted a hand and tossed Zhang Chengling over through the air. As he watched Zhang Chengling flail his arms and legs in panic, looking for all like a large toad experiencing muscle spasms, he spoke up and reminded him, "Have you eaten the sword techniques I taught you together with your meals?"
Zhang Chengling went "ah", and haphazardly threw himself on the puppet that was closing in on Zhou Zishu. Landing from above, he managed to cause that puppet to lose its balance, and boy and puppet toppled together. He jumped to his feet hastily, rubbing at where his ass hurt from falling on it, and asked, flustered from panic, "Senior, which…which move should I use?"
Zhou Zishu, who was taking the chance to catch his breath, grabbed his collar and threw him at Wen Kexing again, saying, "Stop adding trouble to the mix."
The situation was still decent, for the three of them who had merely been dragged into this trouble. It was slightly worse for Ye Baiyi, who had directly offended the master of this place with his rude words: a dense swarm of human puppets surrounded him, clustering around him so tightly that water could hardly seep through the gaps between them. At the same time, this old man was even more stubborn in old age and was determined to go toe-to-toe with those puppets; it was a racket over there, as lively as a New Year's celebration.
Zhou Zishu raised a fist to press it against his own chest, forcing back a mouthful of saccharine blood. To Wen Kexing, who was edging close to him, he said, "This can't do, I'm afraid we won't be able to hold out for long. Who knows how many puppets there are in this godforsaken place?"
Wen Kexing replied, "This place is called the Puppet Manor. He looks to be the only living being to me, while the rest are these objects."
Zhou Zishu narrowed his eyes. "Makes sense. Looks like he's also the only one that can be killed."
The two of them exchanged a look. As neither of them were good apples, they were well-coordinated even without prior discussion. Once again, Wen Kexing flung Zhang Chengling out like the Gaoshan Slave's meteor hammer. Watching him pin another one to the ground as he howled, Zhou Zishu shot out in a glide, picked up that little tyke, and set him aside before the toppled puppet could beat him to death with its elbow. Then the tip of his foot touched the ground lightly, and he sprung at the strange man on the wheelchair, his body as quick and light as a sparrow's.
The person said coldly, "Another one who has come seeking his death." He leant back, and ten or so iron chains abruptly shot out from beneath that wooden wheelchair. A long spear was attached to the end of each chain, which hurtled at Zhou Zishu from various directions.
Zhou Zishu sank a breath to his diaphragm, dropping through the air with 'The Fall of A Thousand-Catty Weight'. With a quick slide of his feet, he was behind a human puppet in a flash. The spear which tracked him crashed into that puppet, its blade bending in the opposite direction as its metal chain wrapped the human puppet up like a dumpling.
Zhou Zishu flicked his long sleeve outwards as he spoke, "Did you think that I won't use a hidden weapon?"
That strange person startled. Smacking the armrest of the wheelchair hard, a metal umbrella suddenly popped open in front of him. Still, after a long moment's wait, nothing happened--This lowlife tactic of frightening someone was one that Zhou Zishu had learnt from Gu Xiang. Under these circumstances, he couldn't care about his expert status, nor whether it was gentlemanly to do so or not, and used it on him.
Discovering that he had fallen for the trick, that strange person was humiliated and furious, and lowered the umbrella. But where was there still any sign of Zhou Zishu before him? Putting Ye Baiyi aside, he searched the surroundings, and suddenly heard someone laugh from the rafters, "I say, do you really take everything handed to you at face-value, dummy?"
That odd man raised his head to look. Wen Kexing was descending through the air, and in his hand, he had a large stick that some puppet had dropped, which he slammed down on his head. Yet, a round explosive ball suddenly emerged out of nowhere above the wheelchair; meeting this nemesis of his, Wen Kexing swung the stick forcefully with a low curse, and sent that ball flying. He did not pay attention to where he had sent that thing off to, but in any case, he heard Ye Baiyi rage afterwards, "The Wen rascal, are you planning to die?"
Wen Kexing executed a mid-air flip and landed. Looking behind him, he saw Ye Baiyi's dust-caked, dishevelled appearance, and was instantly overjoyed. Turning his head, he hollered at that person in the wheelchair, "Quick, give me another ball."
The person in the wheelchair was enraged, but before he could react, he heard a clear whistle by his ear. Turning his head to the side, he caught the pure and bright flash of a sword blade swooping at his throat with a killing aura. Conscious of the danger it posed, he did not dare to take any chances, and opened the umbrella in front of him once more, intending to flee from this great hall.
The next instant, this person in the wheelchair moved no more. Those eyes of his, which were already twice as big as an ordinary person's, grew even wider as they looked down in disbelief. He had not anticipated that it was a flexible sword in his opponent's hand--a flexible sword that could be controlled as one pleased.
This was the last thought in his mind--the Baiyi in Zhou Zishu's hand speared his throat through.
Though he had achieved his target with a single strike, Zhou Zishu did not loiter. Hearing the noises of a puppet in pursuit at his back, he flew into the air without looking back, leaping over that wheelchair. Confronted with an obstacle, the puppet instantly raised its stick and whacked it. There was a "crack", and it smashed that supremely miraculous wooden wheelchair into pieces. Parts and mechanisms littered the floor, then, like they had been frozen with a spell, all the puppets in the hall halted.
Upon landing, Zhou Zishu stumbled. Wen Kexing, who had long been waiting off to the side, immediately reached out to catch him. He turned his head to peck him on the cheek, and praised, "Splendid sword technique!"
Zhou Zishu wiped at his face like he was wiping at the saliva left behind after a dog had licked his cheek, pushed Wen Kexing away, and said expressionlessly, "Splendidly sleazy of you."
Expression dark, Ye Baiyi collected Zhang Chengling, who had fallen to the ground after a toppled puppet tripped him, and strode over to them. Without a word, he struck at Wen Kexing with his palm, which the latter dodged with a cheeky grin on his face. As Wen Kexing evaded the blows, he said, "Aiyo, old senior, why are you still splitting hairs with a junior over these trivial things?"
Zhou Zishu sighed. He coughed softly twice, weakly sat on a toppled puppet, and said, "Take a break, both of you. I say, Old Senior Ye who's not a rice bin, you should hurry up and take a look at these mechanisms with your omnipotent knowledge, and come up with a way to get us out of here."
Ye Baiyi cast a glance at that wooden wheelchair in fragments and said, "You've smashed the mechanisms to a pulp. Come up with a way, my foot." Turning, he strode towards the hole in the wall which the strange person in the wheelchair had emerged from. Zhang Chengling ran over to them, and asked in a small voice, "Shifu, are you fine?"
This child had just been swung around multiple times like a piece of rock by these two. Yet, he did not hold a grudge against them, his mind still entirely filled with worry over his shifu's injury. Peered at by those pure eyes full of concern, Zhou Zishu instantly felt a little like a scumbag, and so he spoke in a rare gentle voice, "Not a problem."
With his back to him, Zhang Chengling bent his knees. "Shifu, I'll carry you on my back."
Finding it humorous, Zhou Zishu patted him on the shoulder and got to his feet without help, saying, "That's enough, I'm not counting on you to do so."
He had just walked two steps when Wen Kexing came over without giving him time to protest, caught him around the waist and reeled him in. Inwardly griping that this fellow had not gotten his fill of taking advantage of him, Zhou Zishu went to hit him with his elbow, but Wen Kexing hastily said, "Save your energy, if that old glutton fails to successfully tinker with these mechanisms in a while, we still have to count on you to fight."
Zhou Zishu thought about it and found it reasonable, and he borrowed Wen Kexing's strength to lean against him. Once he let himself relax, he found that his whole body felt like it was about to fall apart, and he nearly failed to catch his next breath.
At this moment, they heard Ye Baiyi say, "All of you, come over here."
The three people followed him into that hole in the wall. Within it, there was something else that had been entirely hidden: On the whole face of a wall, the lines on it numerous and complicated, was a map of the entirety of the Puppet Manor.
Wen Kexing raised his head and looked at it once over, flabbergasted. A while later, he finally spoke, "This…even if you show me this, I can't make head or tail of it."
Zhou Zishu laughed under his breath. "That's great, me neither."
Ye Baiyi glanced at them. Finally, for once, he had no words for them. Pointing at Zhang Chengling, he instructed, "You, come with me." Hurriedly, Zhang Chengling followed him, only to see Ye Baiyi fiddle with the wall here and there. He didn't know what he had tinkered with, but that wall opened up in an instant, revealing the various mechanisms inside that would make people gasp in wonderment.
Zhou Zishu tilted his head back and gazed at it, sighing, "This person who constructed the Puppet Manor is truly an eccentric with outstanding skill." With Zhang Chengling as Ye Baiyi's assistant, the old man and the young boy worked and puzzled over it. Finally, after a long period of time, they heard a massive rumbling as the roof opened up and brought a wall along with it, revealing a set of stairs.
The four people climbed it with caution. It was unknown how far they had ventured upwards, but astonishingly, they reemerged back on ground level. There was wind, there was sunlight, and there were plants--it was a small, decent courtyard.
Ye Baiyi said, "This is the actual Puppet Manor."
Hiis gaze surveyed the surroundings, and he suddenly strode towards a small cabin, which door had been gated with large iron grills. That cabin was located underneath a large tree; gloomy, with its windows and door tightly sealed, it looked like a prison.
Ye Baiyi channelled energy into his palm, and tore the gate down in one go. Then, he pushed the door open and walked in with a brazenness born of his peerless skills. The three of them followed close behind, but stopped at the same time as Ye Baiyi did--in this small cell, there was a bed, on which a person was bound in thick iron chains.
He was an old man, his hair and whiskers entirely white. Both his eyes were lightless; they had gone blind, because he had lived in darkness for too long. Like he had heard noises, he turned his head towards them. His skeletal body shivered involuntarily.
A long while later, Ye Baiyi finally asked, "You...are Long Que?"