The two chatted a while and got onto the subject of the master detective who'd cornered them at the door, Zhang Yinluo. Hu Shouxin frowned. "I'm not afraid of her, but she's a nuisance. The Zhang family's pampered jewel, and a Lingjiu Palace disciple besides. Her serving as a head constable in Mingzhou is probably the family's arrangement — looking to climb the official ladder. With the great war over, the path of military merit's pretty much closed, but rising through the Six Gates system, there's precedent for that. With her clan backing her and Lingjiu Palace supporting her, her prospects should be no small thing. You wouldn't know it, but the court's been lively these two years — there's our bunch of Tianyuan martial-merit men who rose by the sword, and there's that pack of wenches, another bunch..."
"All right, you don't need to tell me this — not interested." Sun Lang waved a hand at once. "That master detective looks like a stubborn one. She got driven off this time, but she's sure not to let it rest. You'd best settle it for me. If she pesters me too hard, and I slip up and get her wet by accident, she'll raise a huge fuss claiming I ruined her good name, drag her clan in to make trouble for me, and if it comes to blows..."
He sighed. "I can't pull my punches these days. People would die... and killing's not much fun, really. I got sick of it long ago."
"Fine, fine, that's no hard thing." Hu Shouxin nodded. "But the little lady's only here over the matter of the thief, Qin Yu. The woman getting snatched away — that's likely no simple thing."
"She was probably sprung by her own associates." Sun Lang snorted. "It's no business of mine. Tell her to quit her racket."
He fished out last night's mission token and tossed it onto Hu Shouxin's desk. "I don't feel like going to the yamen for the reward. Pay me first, then send someone to collect it."
Hu Shouxin seemed to have expected this. He took a small pouch of silver straight from a desk drawer and tossed it to Sun Lang.
The errant counted it carefully then and there, heedless of the other man's eye-rolling. Hu Shouxin remembered something. "The gun working out for you?"
"Quite fun." Sun Lang slid the Bifang scattergun from his sleeve and took a few practice aims. "Doesn't it look cool?"
"It fires its pellets entirely by the force of exploding powder — limited power, a dead-straight trajectory, no bending or curving it as you please, no real control. The power's not much either. A clumsy hand can't beat a master with it, and a master with it still can't handle the masters he couldn't beat before — it's only good for bullying those weaker than you." As a martial powerhouse of the Land of Houtu, Hu Shouxin naturally sneered at such crooked contraptions, which was the prevailing view of the whole nation's martial world. He shook his head. "And to fold these firearms into your combat repertoire takes a good deal of bitter practice and working-out — frankly more trouble than they're worth. Though for you they happen to suit just fine..."
He recalled old times and smiled. "Back in the day you were fascinated by these things..."
Sun Lang smiled too. "Frog at the bottom of a well, arrogant and self-satisfied. Believe it or not, the day will come when the empire's armies get lined up and shot dead by those foreign devils."
"No use telling me that." Hu Shouxin gave a sly grin. "If my lord cares so for the whole world, why not take a trip to the capital and lay it all out for the assembled ministers?"
Sun Lang flipped him the middle finger. "Like hell it's my business. I'm off!"
"Wait." Hu Shouxin pulled open a desk drawer and took out a crimson wooden box. "Emiya's been sending little trinkets over often these past two years. This one he had Long Wande deliver recently. I've no interest in such things — dug it out of the house last night, so it's yours."
Sun Lang took it and opened the box.
A short firearm shimmering with firelight lay quietly inside, its gold-and-fire metalwork sculpted into the roaring head of a qilin, a cold-gleaming barrel jutting from its maw, giving the gun a ferocious, domineering look.
Its shape was so distinctive that he recognized at a glance this celebrated weapon — said to embody the cultivation dreams of thirty million of the empire's brain-dead youths — and softly spoke its name. "The great gun, the Fire Qilin..."
Hu Shouxin smiled and nodded.
Then Sun Lang abruptly asked, "...It's not the castrated version that only works for seven days, is it?"
"How could it be!" Hu Shouxin blew out a smoke ring and said scornfully, "This is the work of the world's foremost artificer — no cheap renewal-fee version for green recruits... You went missing for two years, so you don't know: that lad Emiya struck it lucky. After returning to court, he was taken as a disciple by the Sharingan King, Daoist Master Ma — the one said to be able to replicate every weapon and art under heaven. With that great fortune, plus the backing of his own Wei clan of Hedong, he's risen meteorically at court and now holds the office of Vice-Minister of Works. These days, black and white, jianghu folk who see him all cup their hands and call him Vice-Minister Emiya... This thing was probably forged by his master."
Sun Lang was just then studying every corner of the Fire Qilin in earnest, trying to find the logo reading "Tengxun Cultivation — no money? then cultivate your mom's cunt." But there wasn't one.
Hu Shouxin was a little speechless. "What the hell are you looking for... How would there be such a thing — hey, wasn't it you who put that rumor out back then? Spreading word everywhere of lines like 'You think you can get stronger without paying up?', until a pack of busybodies made it known across the whole Central Land — aren't you afraid that Master Ma will come knocking to thrash you?"
The old matter raised again, a touch of nostalgia surfaced in Sun Lang's eyes, and he gave a sly chuckle. "The sense of déjà vu was just too strong — I couldn't help myself, simply couldn't help myself..."
Gazing at the Fire Qilin in Sun Lang's hand, a flicker of unease and sighing crossed Hu Shouxin's eyes. "So even Master Ma's started studying the foreigners' contraptions... As I recall, firearms were something the empire developed in its early years too. Pity their strength couldn't match bow and crossbow, the cost was high, and the reloading time long — truly the most worthless of worthless things. A hundred soldiers with muskets would be shot down to the last man by a single elite martial artist with a great bow in the time it takes an incense stick to burn, while the artist, dodging and weaving, parrying with a short sword, could come through without a scratch. So they were kicked out of the empire's armaments long ago. Who'd have thought..."
Sun Lang acted as though he hadn't heard. He spun the Fire Qilin a few circles in his hand, and its comfortable heft and the fire-soul that seemed to roar within the barrel brought a satisfied look to his face. "Good stuff... I've always been trying to figure out how to make people suffer a bit without killing them. With this gun, I can finally cut loose — that lady thief yesterday, say, one shot would've dropped her... Hu, you Big Cudgel, having a treasure like this and not saying so sooner."
"...That face of yours, like a kid who just got a new toy and wants to go show it off, is so easy to read." Hu Shouxin sighed. "Keep a low profile, would you. Few people can recognize you now, but there's still a chance of giving away your whereabouts. It's not just a band of old brothers looking for you these days — some ill-intentioned sorts are looking too. I'm a rough fellow, but even I get letters every month from Rindou Man and the rest, keeping me posted on the shifts at court. The various powers are holding each other in check now, but each has its own designs and is itching to move. If anyone at court discovered you weren't dead, the whole situation would boil over in an instant — for what you mean to the Land of Houtu, I needn't spell out..."
Sun Lang's smile slowly faded, his gaze turning cold. "What, you still want me to go back and be a puppet?"
"Don't put it so harshly... though that is the truth of it." Hu Shouxin said unhurriedly, "When the day comes that the Emperor issues an edict summoning you to the capital — will you go or not?"
Sun Lang said indifferently, "You tell me."
The big-bearded man smiled bitterly. "Defying an edict is a punishable offense."
"Then I'll just have to let His Majesty know that the me of today is no longer a clay puppet for certain people to play with as they please." Sun Lang gave a faint cold smile. "I hear the court these days is all silt and muck, men idling in their posts, eating their salaries for nothing, the bureaucracy bloated. If His Majesty thinks only of sending people to punish me, then I'll do a good deed and trim the government's staff for him, save the nation a little in stipends."
"Didn't you say you didn't want to kill anymore?"
"If they come looking to provoke me, that's a different matter." Sun Lang put the Fire Qilin back in its box and said slowly, "Old Hu, I've said it before — the empire and I are square, neither owing the other. But that doesn't mean I've forgotten everything that happened. The good you all did me, I keep in my heart. What they did, I'll remember to my dying day too. The reason I didn't kill those people and their whole families is that I couldn't be bothered to stoop to a fool's level. There was loss and gain in what happened back then; for all the suffering, there were not a few rewards — whether the kindness outweighs the grudge or the grudge the kindness, even I can't say anymore..."
"All right, that's all a lie, really." Sun Lang closed the lid of the box and smiled faintly. "The truth is, I just figure that after slaughtering their whole families, there's no telling how many more I'd have to kill before I got any peace. This world's like one great net — pull a single thread and the whole thing moves. Hatred runs on without end, and humans never know when to quit. There are simply too many fools in this world..."
"And it took me six years to struggle my way out of that cage. Am I supposed to go kill for another six years over a few fools, and crawl right back into that old life? All the me of today wants is to enjoy an ordinary, interesting life — to wander this land and see the sights. Screw your old man, eight years ago I'd barely set foot here as a stranger and got press-ganged into fighting a full six years..." He tucked the box under his arm, ready to go. "So, Old Hu — if you don't want this country running with rivers of blood, you'd best keep our promise and not breathe a word of my affairs to a single soul. Otherwise it'll be hard to stay friends..."
Hu Shouxin fell silent... This was perhaps the heaviest thing Sun Lang had said since they'd known each other.
He couldn't help recalling the day of their reunion — the joy and gladness of meeting again after a long parting in the other man's eyes, mingled with a faint scrutiny and wariness.
What had happened in that final battle two years ago, to make him guarded even toward his closest old comrade? Perhaps he would never know the answer. But the resolve he'd made the moment they reunited would not change.
"Eight years ago... whether it was cowardice, cold blood, or simply no other choice — in the end, standing by and letting it happen, letting you get dragged into that war, was us failing you." Hu Shouxin gazed at his back. "Debts are paid in coin; that's only right and proper. This whole country owes you. If the day ever comes that you want to collect on that debt, don't forget your old brothers from back then. We can help you kill."
Sun Lang's retreating figure paused for a second. He lifted a hand and waved it, laughing. "With that little skill of yours... better get home and train some more. Two years apart and your kung fu's as weak as ever."
Hu Shouxin was taken aback, then shook his head and smiled, a thread of helplessness in it. "You little brat..."