Chapter Forty-Four: Half a Blueprint of Mechanisms

Li Yiting spoke as if he were at ease, but sleep did not come to him so easily. As the night deepened, after a brief rest, he rose again, draping a robe over his shoulders, seized by an inexplicable impulse. In the early hours before dawn, he sat by the window, lost in thought.

Slowly, he drew a booklet from his chest and began to leaf through it absentmindedly.

It was the blueprint of mechanisms that his uncle had solemnly entrusted to him and Fuqi the other day. The pages were yellowed, showing their age; light in the hand, and containing barely ten sheets. With keen interest, Li Yiting studied the diagrams, eager to uncover the hidden secrets of this ancient building.

Almost everyone in Li Village, from the oldest to the youngest, held the ancestral hall in awe—a reverence that seemed innate. He knew that superstition played only a minor role, and that veneration for their ancestors was not the main reason either. Setting aside the ignorance of children, most villagers were simply frightened. They had all heard, to some extent, tales of the hall riddled with traps and concealed weapons, and of old legends where thieves met their doom within its walls. Even on the tenth day of the first lunar month, when a select few were permitted inside, they were confined to a designated area for rituals.

No one dared cross the forbidden line, save for the patriarch, Li Qisi.

According to records, Li Qisi was already the three hundredth or so patriarch. The passing of this title was indeed a matter of spoken instruction, just as he and Fuqi had experienced, with the elder patriarch appointing the new one.

Of course, this time was not a transfer of leadership. Li Yiting surmised that his uncle intended to pass the patriarch’s burden to Li Fuqi, though the moment had not yet come. Guarding the Fish-Gut Sword was only one of the patriarch’s responsibilities.

Given the haste of recent events, it was clear his uncle had not fully considered all the implications.

Turning the pages of the booklet, Li Yiting soon confirmed his suspicion: this was not the original blueprint, but a copy.

First, the handwriting was unmistakably that of his uncle, Li Qisi; the ink was newer, and the drawings themselves were rather crude. The paper was not the kind used for ancient texts, but from a child’s exercise book—yellowed and even dotted with a few cockroach droppings.

He smiled wryly. His uncle had made such a solemn show of passing on what was, in truth, a mere replica—enough to make Li Yiting both amused and exasperated. He recalled how anxious he had been, thinking himself about to shoulder some tremendous family task, when, in reality, there was little cause for alarm.

He finished the slim booklet quickly and made another discovery: it was not even a complete exercise book, but seemed torn from somewhere. The diagrams were not a systematic layout, but only partial sections—in other words, this was only half the blueprint.

If his guess was correct, the other half was in Li Fuqi’s hands.

Uncle Li Qisi was indeed meticulous. Not only had he cleverly split the family’s vital secret between two people as a safeguard, but he had also given each only half, in case of mishap.

Doubtless, the original was still in his uncle’s possession.

With this realization, Li Yiting felt a weight lift from his shoulders. If this was only a temporary arrangement, then his own responsibility was much lighter.

He tossed the half-booklet onto the table and went to the kitchen to make tea.

As it happened, his sister Li Yi was also awake. Passing by his room and seeing the lights still on, she peeked inside. Not seeing her brother, she noticed the little booklet on the table, paused in confusion, and moved on.

What on earth was wrong with her brother today, looking over his old exercise books instead of going anywhere?

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By coincidence, Li Fuqi, troubled by his own concerns, had stumbled upon the same little secret.

He held the lower half of the blueprints, which left him even more confused. Many sections were utterly incomprehensible, and from the annotations, he could only surmise that his copy was incomplete.

He wondered if this was an oversight by his uncle, or if the blueprint itself had always been fragmented. He planned to discuss it with his second brother, Li Yiting, in the future, though he lacked Yiting’s analytical mind and felt only bewilderment.

He even considered asking his uncle directly, suspecting something had gone awry in the process.

He had already taken the task of guarding the sacred relic as his personal duty and had not once doubted the arrangement. For days now, he had been pondering it, sometimes carelessly studying the booklet in broad daylight. On one such occasion, Wang Yongkun happened upon him.

“Hey, what are you looking at? You seem completely absorbed,” Wang Yongkun asked, carefree as always.

“Uh…” Li Fuqi was startled, instinctively snapping the booklet shut on the table, a bit flustered. “Nothing much, just passing the time with a book.”

Only then did he recall he was still under house arrest, under the watchful eyes of many.

Wang Yongkun joked, “I’ve seen you poring over that old exercise book for days—I thought you were reminiscing about your childhood, but it’s actually a book?”

Li Fuqi coughed awkwardly. “Yes… that's right. Childhood diary. It’s amusing to look back on it now.” He finally found a passable excuse and promptly tossed the blueprint into a drawer.

“You scholars are something else,” Wang Yongkun said, not the least suspicious, merely making conversation. “Finding endless pleasure in childhood diaries… By the way, they’re calling you to join the card game. Coming or not?”

Li Fuqi secretly breathed a sigh of relief, glad to have covered his tracks.

“Sure, sure,” he replied quickly, then hesitated. “Why don’t you go ahead? I’ll be right there.”

“Fine.” Wang Yongkun glanced at him, then asked, “I heard there’ll be lantern dances on the tenth day of the new year. Want to come see with us? Honestly, I’m curious—I’ve always loved such festivities.”

Li Fuqi gave a wry smile. “I’m still a suspect. Don’t make trouble.”

“I’d almost forgotten. It’s not a big deal. Just stick with me, you won’t get away under my nose,” Wang Yongkun said, clearly restless himself.

“That’s not certain. I know Luoshui Village better than you do,” Li Fuqi replied with a laugh.

“Hey, let me ask you something. If I don’t want to leave the village headquarters but still want to see the lantern dances, do you have any good ideas?” Wang Yongkun asked suddenly.

“Uh…” Li Fuqi hadn’t expected the question and was momentarily at a loss.

Then inspiration struck. “Actually, with your skills, there’s a way.”

“What?” Wang Yongkun leaned in, intrigued.

“It’s like this: in all of Luoshui Village, only the village headquarters has a concrete rooftop. From the third floor up is the terrace. It’s not like in the city, but there’s an old tiger cage you can use to reach the roof…” Li Fuqi smiled mysteriously. “The headquarters sits at the center of the village, and it’s on higher ground. From the terrace, you can see the whole village at a glance.”

“So that’s it!” Wang Yongkun clapped his hands delightedly. “What a great idea. Others can’t get up there, but it’s nothing for me. Want me to take you up tonight? It’s better to watch with company.”

Li Fuqi quickly waved him off. “I’d better not. Otherwise, Qiu Xi and the others will think I’m trying to escape.”

“You overthink things. Fine, I won’t push you.” Wang Yongkun urged, “We’re one hand short for cards. They must be getting impatient. Let’s go.”

“All right.” Li Fuqi didn't refuse further. He glanced at the drawer—hopefully, it had locked automatically—and nodded, following Wang Yongkun out of the room.