Chapter 9: - The Demon Honey Trap

Blind Man Bei had assigned practically everyone a task. It suited his image perfectly. From ancient times to the present, fortune-tellers and military strategists in fiction had very often been portrayed as blind men.

The strategist profession was simply more competitive and had fewer openings, so most blind men wound up as fortune-tellers instead.

None of this had really appeared in A’Qiu’s comic. In her story, Bei had been a demon who set up private courts and proclaimed himself the embodiment of justice.

But a person was not a sheet of paper. No one had only a front and a back. Once they escaped the confines of the comics in this world, these characters naturally became more vivid and alive.

Next came the preparations.

Feng Siniang first ordered several inn hands to go outside and spread word that this old lady would personally receive a customer tonight. It had much the same effect as some minor celebrity from a certain island nation suddenly announcing she was entering the adult-film industry.

Xue San squatted beside the well in the courtyard with a whetstone before him and began sharpening tools.

Not a large blade, though. He was honing little daggers and small pliers, probably the standard equipment of a “gentleman of the rafters.”

Curious, Zheng Fan came over and squatted beside him.

“Where’s that sword of yours?”

Zheng Fan remembered that in the comic, Xue San had always carried a huge iron sword horizontally across his back. Perhaps Qin Siyu, his creator, had simply liked that sort of contrast.

Still sharpening his blades, Xue San looked up and smiled at Zheng Fan.

“Reporting to Master, gone.”

“Gone?”

“When we came to this world, everyone arrived with nothing except the clothes on our backs. Everything else was gone.”

Zheng Fan nodded.

So that was how it was.

He could not help feeling somewhat regretful. The things these people had wielded in the comics, if brought into reality, would probably have counted as divine weapons one after another.

“Master can go sit in the front hall for now. Have some tea, have some wine. Once tonight is over, we should be able to report back to Master about what kind of world this really is.”

“Thank you for the trouble.”

Zheng Fan did not go to the front hall.

Truthfully, he was still somewhat afraid of confronting the unknown. If he sat there until afternoon and watched one customer after another arrive dressed nothing like people from the modern world, that sense of strangeness could make it hard to breathe.

Yet at the same time, he could not stop himself from wanting to explore that very unknown.

Perhaps he simply was not used to it yet. It was like an ordinary person watching a horror movie: suffering and enjoying it at the same time.

Zheng Fan returned to his room, lay down on the bed, and took an afternoon nap while everyone outside busied themselves with preparations.

He slept far longer than expected. By the time he woke, it was already dark.

“I really can sleep.”

Zheng Fan mocked himself helplessly.

He had actually considered whether there was anything he could help with. Being called “Master” over and over while doing absolutely nothing left him faintly embarrassed.

The problem was that Zheng Fan knew perfectly well he probably could not help much. If he forced himself into the work, he might only make things worse.

Perhaps sleeping honestly in his room and letting them display him like some auspicious mascot actually made them happier.

After leaving his room and stepping into the courtyard, he happened to see A’Ming again.

A’Ming stood in the shadow beside the wine cellar. He appeared to be holding a small file, as though trimming his nails.

Sensing Zheng Fan approach, A’Ming lifted his head.

“Master, Fan Li left with a Barbarian tribal caravan this afternoon and has already entered the desert. Xue San has gone to stake out his target as well. The Blind Man went to visit the Patrol Lieutenant Commander’s wife this afternoon and still hasn’t returned.”

He continued working with the small file as he spoke.

“Mm.”

Zheng Fan acknowledged him, hesitated, then asked:

“Is there anything I can help with?”

A’Ming paused. Something meaningful seemed to pass through his eyes.

“Actually, Master has already helped a great deal.”

Zheng Fan felt somewhat speechless. He assumed A’Ming meant that not causing trouble was already the best help he could provide.

But A’Ming continued:

“The bidding over there has ended. There’s just a little complication.”

“What complication?”

“The man who bid the highest offered a little too much.”

“So...?”

Zheng Fan had never doubted Feng Siniang’s charm. Men had all sorts of tastes. Some liked petite women, some liked large ones; some liked the coo-coo-coo type, others the woo-woo-woo type.

But Feng Siniang was Qin Siyao’s fantasy of the perfect mature woman. Every smile, every glance, every shift of her expression carried enormous attraction.

There was, after all, one infallible way to determine whether a man was lustful: place a finger between his upper lip and his nose. If there was breath, he was lustful.

“That man also brought an attendant. He calls him an attendant, but he looks more like a bodyguard. This young master arrived in Tiger Head City a few days ago. At the brothel on the eastern side of the city, he took two women back to his inn. Both walked in, but they were carried out. One is still alive. The other died of her injuries. He paid the brothel compensation, and they let the matter drop.”

According to the original plan, Feng Siniang was opening her doors tonight to hook a big fish. Their purpose was to interrogate that fish and learn this world’s “worldview” from his mouth.

Afterward, to be safe, they would naturally dispose of him. Once they had shared whatever “worldview” they extracted, either Liang Cheng or A’Ming would put on the man’s clothes and swagger out of the inn looking like he had just finished enjoying himself, thereby washing suspicion away from the establishment.

Originally, they only needed to deal with the fish himself. And a man, after all...

But the sudden appearance of a guard added many variables. Worse, A’Ming said this man’s bid had crushed everyone else’s. The richer and more important the master, the stronger his personal guard was likely to be.

This demon honey trap had better not blow up in their faces.

“What if we poison him?” Zheng Fan suggested.

“I watched the guard after he entered the inn. He has been sitting beside his master the whole time, but he hasn’t touched a drop of wine or a bite of food.”

This kind of attendant demanded that he remain clearheaded at all times.

That made him even harder to deal with.

Especially while the Demon Kings under Zheng Fan were still ordinary people.

“If the target’s too hard, let it go.”

Zheng Fan did not want anyone getting hurt.

A’Ming smiled, showing very white teeth, and shook his head.

“The stronger the attendant, the more it proves the master knows valuable things. That makes him even more worth targeting. Besides, Fourth Lady has already taken his money. We can hardly let her actually sleep with him.”

“True.”

“Master, if you want to help, carry this wine jar into the front hall. Judging by the time, we should be about ready.”

“Oh. All right.”

Zheng Fan searched the ground and spotted a small wine jar. He immediately bent down and lifted it.

“Damn, this is heavy...”

“It’s filled with incense ash.”

“For the ambush?”

“Mm. Wait for the right moment and smash it at the guard. Leave the rest to Liang Cheng and me.”

“Got it.”

Zheng Fan nodded firmly.

“Master, go ahead first. Liang Cheng is waiting by the staircase in the front hall.”

“What about you?”

A’Ming pointed toward the south side of the courtyard. A ladder there led directly to the second floor of the front building.

“I’ll use that ladder to enter Fourth Lady’s room first and help her subdue the big fish. The guard is waiting in the outer room. When you start, I’ll come out from the inner room and attack him from behind.”

“Good.”

In the comic stories, Zheng Fan had “killed countless people,” “walked through seas of blood,” and “committed monstrous crimes.”

In reality, though, he had only ever been a keyboard warrior with perhaps a little more imagination than the average one.

He had never even killed a chicken.

As for killing a person...

Well.

He actually had done that once.

He had killed himself.

Carrying the small wine jar, Zheng Fan entered the front hall. Liang Cheng really was waiting by the staircase. When he saw Zheng Fan coming over with the jar in his arms, Liang Cheng looked surprised.

Then angry.

“Who told Master to come? A’Ming?”

“I asked to come myself,” Zheng Fan answered.

Liang Cheng frowned. His displeasure was obvious.

Uneasy, Zheng Fan could only add, “I’ll follow your instructions. I’ll smash the incense ash, then run.”

He assumed Liang Cheng was unhappy because Zheng Fan was useless and could only get in the way.

But Liang Cheng’s next cold sentence caught him completely off guard.

“Master’s safety cannot be risked.”

He’s... worried about me?

“I’ll smash it and run. Nothing will happen. Besides, all of you are here.”

Seeing that Zheng Fan still insisted, Liang Cheng could only nod helplessly in agreement.

Then he turned and headed upstairs.

Naturally, Zheng Fan followed with the wine jar in his arms.

In truth, Zheng Fan still felt tonight’s operation was somewhat aggressive.

Fan Li had joined a caravan to enter the desert and open up their view of the Barbarian lands. Xue San was heading to the yamen to steal official documents and correspondence. Blind Man Bei had gone to seduce the wife of a military officer.

Wasn’t that already enough?

Yet the group staying at the inn intended to obtain intelligence by directly silencing someone afterward. If it worked, fine.

But what if it failed?

Still, Zheng Fan could understand the mentality behind it.

These people had originally been monsters in one comic after another, beings who killed without blinking and sometimes even delighted in torture. When they acted, they often cared only about the result, not the process or the methods.

A normal person waited until he had enough strength before doing something.

A madman did the thing first and worried afterward whether he had enough strength!

And now the operation had already begun. The arrow was on the string.

There was no time left to think about anything else.

Feng Siniang had already welcomed the customer into her bedroom.

...

In the courtyard, after Zheng Fan entered the front hall, A’Ming remained standing beside the wine cellar for a little while longer.

Yes, the small file was still in his hand.

But contrary to what Zheng Fan had assumed earlier, he was not trimming his nails.

Instead, again and again, A’Ming drove the pointed end of the file into his own palm.

Pshk.

Pshk.

Pshk.

One wound after another opened.

Then, one wound after another visibly healed before his eyes.

At last, A’Ming stopped this repeated act of self-mutilation.

He lifted his head and looked toward the dim moon hanging overhead.

And smiled.

[End of Chapter 9]