The Twenty-Three Interlocking Traps

Upon hearing from Cheng Yu, who was using the alias Luan Xun, that a qilin had appeared in the county, Li Yong and his steward exchanged bewildered glances, incredulously asking, “Could it be, Master Luan, that you have been misled by rumor? The qilin is a sacred beast of auspicious omen—how could it descend so easily upon the world?” No sooner had the words left his lips than Cheng Yu’s expression darkened with irritation.

Cheng Yu, fuming, retorted, “Why does Master Li speak thus? Are you doubting the wisdom of my family’s patriarch? Besides, my younger brother has also verified the matter. The person who delivered the message is no outsider and would never deceive us!”

“What? You mean, Master Ziqi is also aware of this?” Li Yong’s doubts seemed to melt away.

“Exactly so. Otherwise, what reason would I—Xun—have to travel a hundred miles to Suiyang County?” Cheng Yu countered.

“Please, Master Luan, do not take offense. It’s just…” Li Yong glanced at his steward, who shook his head to indicate his ignorance. “It’s just that I have never heard anyone mention the appearance of a qilin in the county!”

“Oh?” Cheng Yu feigned scrutiny, sizing Li Yong up and down before sighing and saying resignedly, “Enough! If even Master Li has no knowledge of it, I fear the qilin has already been claimed by others. In that case… Xun shall return to Yangzhai and report back.”

With that, he ignored Li Yong’s pleas and strode out the door.

Li Yong accompanied him all the way, ceaselessly probing Cheng Yu for information. Cheng Yu, occasionally caught off guard, let slip a few tidbits under Li Yong’s subtle questioning.

As they reached the manor’s gate, Li Yong finally posed the most crucial question, “May I ask, Master Luan, why does your family go to such lengths to seek out the qilin?”

Trailing behind Cheng Yu, Guo Jia replied in a guileless, brash manner, “Isn’t it obvious? The qilin is an auspicious sign. If we capture it and present it to His Majesty, the Emperor will surely be delighted. And when the Emperor is pleased, perhaps—”

At this point, Cheng Yu angrily interrupted Guo Jia, “Luan Yong, what nonsense are you spouting? Mind your tongue! Hurry along now.” He shoved Luan Yong toward the carriage, then turned and bowed to Li Yong. “My attendant is mischievous; pay no heed to his words. I hope Master Li will not take offense for any impropriety.”

“No matter! No matter!” Li Yong stood on the steps outside, hands clasped behind him, watching the luxurious carriage recede into the distance. When the carriage vanished from sight, he turned to his steward and asked, “What do you make of this qilin business?”

“It appears… it may be true!” the steward replied after some thought.

“Not ‘may’—it is certainly true!” Li Yong exclaimed, rubbing his hands in excitement. “As Luan Xun said, if there were no qilin in the county, why would they travel all the way from Yangzhai? That’s the first point. Second, throughout our conversation I watched Luan Xun’s expressions closely; his words were sincere, without any hint of deceit. Third, that attendant is at most seven years old. Children speak from the heart, rarely lie. With these three facts, I dare assert that the Luan family firmly believes the qilin appeared here. Whether the news itself is genuine… we can send someone to investigate.”

That afternoon, the steward dispatched the household attendants. They spread out across villages, questioning every household, turning Suiyang County upside down.

Three days later, someone returned with news—signs of the qilin’s presence had indeed been found. Li Yong was overjoyed and summoned the informant for detailed questioning. The attendant reported that the previous day, while searching for the qilin near Cockcrow Mountain, he encountered a hunter—a towering, burly man over eight feet tall, whose appearance was exceedingly ugly. Approaching him, the attendant inquired if he had seen a qilin. He expected a casual reply, but to his astonishment, the hunter had truly witnessed it.

According to the hunter’s account, while hunting in the woods, he heard a thunderclap from the sky, earth-shattering and deafening, followed by a dazzling beam of light descending from above. The light, wider than a man’s height, struck the hillside of Cockcrow Mountain, smashing the rocks and frightening the hunter so badly he fled in panic. Glancing back as he ran, he saw two qilin—a male and a female—standing atop the hill, howling incessantly, which terrified him even more as he raced back to his village.

Li Yong was elated, raising two fingers to confirm with the attendant, “You’re saying there were two qilin?”

The attendant nodded vigorously.

Li Yong threw his head back in laughter. To offer the Emperor a single qilin would bring boundless glory and fortune; if he presented a pair—a male and a female—what would that mean…? “Where did the qilin go?”

The attendant explained that the hunter, focused on fleeing, did not know where the qilin went.

Li Yong’s excitement was doused as if by cold water. Furious, he kicked the attendant several times, “Why return without learning their whereabouts! Go, search high and low, turn over every stone and bring me the qilin!”

Helpless, the attendant named Li San plunged once more into the vast expanse of Cockcrow Mountain. He wandered for hours, circling until midday, so famished he was dizzy and his stomach growled. Exhausted, he sat on a rock to rest, and noticed a thin plume of smoke rising in the deserted forest.

Li San instantly realized it was a hunter cooking, and excitement banished his fatigue. He pushed through the undergrowth toward the smoke.

After several hundred steps, he saw a hut standing in the heart of the woods, a place for hunters to rest between expeditions. Outside the hut, a group of well-dressed people surrounded a burly figure, arguing animatedly. Each spoke with a distinct accent—some with proper Luoyang speech, others with dialects from Qilu and beyond the frontier—clearly from distinguished backgrounds. They seemed to be haggling, fiercely bidding for something in the hunter’s arms.

Li San’s gaze shifted to the hunter. He saw that the hunter held a small, furry creature, brown in color, adorned with golden scales that gleamed in the sunlight, radiating a sacred aura. Most striking were its two large, expressive eyes—one blue, one black.

“Could this… be the qilin?” Li San was dazed, unsure.

Just then, another person arrived, rushing into the crowd and shouting, “Nobody move! The qilin belongs to me!”

Li San squinted; the newcomer was none other than Luan Xun—the same Luan Xun who had visited the Li residence the previous day, though Li San knew him to be Cheng Yu in disguise.

As the false Luan Xun declared his claim, the early arrivals protested. A handsome young man rebuked, “There should be order—first come, first served. We arrived first; why should the qilin be yours?”

Luan Xun paid him no mind, gazing excitedly at the qilin. But as he observed, his smile faded, and he questioned why the qilin seemed so small.

The ugly hunter explained: the day he went hunting, storm clouds rolled in and thunder roared. After a massive bolt of lightning, two qilin stood on the peak, roaring furiously, terrifying him so much he scrambled home in fear. The next day, curiosity overcame him; he returned to see if the qilin remained. From afar, he saw no trace—they must have returned to the heavens. He climbed the hill, hoping to find some divine relic left behind, something he could sell. Searching the grass, he found the small creature he now held. Covered in golden fluid, it seemed newly born—like a tiger, but not a tiger; like an ox, yet not an ox—strange and unlike any known beast. The hunter realized it must be a qilin cub.

“You mean… the qilin gave birth?” the false Luan Xun exclaimed.

“Certainly!” replied the hunter.

“Then, brave man, would you be willing to sell this qilin cub to me?” Luan Xun danced with excitement.

“Of course! Only, that gentleman has already made an offer,” the hunter scratched his head.

Luan Xun’s smile froze. “Oh? How much did he offer?”

“He bid five million cash.”

Luan Xun burst out laughing. “I thought it would be more—just five hundred cash? I, Luan Xun, am willing to pay double, plus one hundred acres of prime farmland outside Yangzhai. Will you accept?”

Li San, hidden in the woods, did a mental calculation—double meant ten million cash, plus land! This hunter was about to go from a crow to a phoenix!

The hunter nearly jumped with joy. “Of course. Then I’ll sell it to you, sir.”

The nobleman who had previously bid was outraged. “Hey! How can you be so untrustworthy? Did you not promise to sell it to me? Now you want to sell it to someone else?”

The hunter was embarrassed and unsure how to respond. Luan Xun interjected, “Men die for wealth, birds for food. Whoever offers the highest price gets the prize. If you want to buy, just outbid me!”

“You…” The nobleman was incensed, but could not act. Ten million cash was not something ordinary folk could muster.

Luan Xun chuckled and moved forward to take the qilin, but the nobleman stopped him. “Wait!” He approached the hunter, feigning concern. “If you let him take the qilin now, what if he fails to pay? I suggest you hold onto it. We can meet in the marketplace tomorrow—money in one hand, qilin in the other. That’s safest. What do you think?”

The hunter nodded in sudden understanding. “The gentleman is right.” He turned to Luan Xun. “Master Luan, in that case, let us settle the deal in Suiyang’s market tomorrow.”

Luan Xun readily agreed. As they arranged the meeting, the crowd around the hut gradually dispersed.