A devilish grin suddenly appeared on the young man’s face. “Have the rumors discuss Zhou Jia’s illicit relations with her brother Zhou Li. Make sure it is heavily publicized. Concurrently promote the opinion that the crown prince is much too noble to be interacting with scum like her, and that she should be set out onto the streets. Meanwhile, coordinate with the others in his harem to try shaking up her position.”
Wang Jun always treated his friends with utmost kindness. But he would never show a shred of mercy to his enemies. Nor to himself. He didn’t pause to rest after the conversation and continued poring over the documents on his desk. As he was reading one of the documents, Wang Jun lifted his eyes to Elder Bai and asked, “By the way, how is the other matter coming along?”
A twinkle appeared in Elder Bai’s eye. “Swimmingly,” he replied.
Chapter 23: Unforgiveable
It was one of the last remaining days of winter, and the smell of fresh grass and budding leaves permeated the air. Birds and squirrels who had remained hidden all winter peeked their small heads out, chirping to announce their imminent return. In the distance, a ”V” of ducks was flying at a steady pace, returning to the lush lands it remembered.
A younger, curious duck decided to split off from the flock, landing in a small pond near the side of the road. A poor decision, to be sure, as it was instantly pierced in the neck by an arrow. The flock scattered as the duck squawked just prior to its untimely demise. Its corpse was retrieved by an enthusiastic man in his early twenties, who brought it back to a group of one hundred mercenaries plodding along at a steady pace.
“Look, Sister Gong. I caught us supper!” the young man exclaimed enthusiastically, causing Gong Lan to massage her temple for the sixth time that day. While she found the man insufferable, she couldn’t fault his honesty and kind demeanor. She just preferred cold men. Manly men like her brother. Regrettably, he didn’t have any good mercenary friends, so she had to find someone the hard way.
She had originally thought Cha Ming would be a good guy to chase, but it turned out that he was too nice. Manly, but nice. Definitely friend-zone material. She didn’t need to be babied or pampered; she just need someone with a sultry sense of humor, veins of steel, and chiseled features. Someone who looked like he was sculpted out of granite, inside and out. She didn’t think this was asking for too much.
The young man continued talking, so she tuned him out, occasionally smiling at something he said just to be polite. Fortunately, this was only a temporary arrangement. He had been pestering her ever since Han Jinlong’s group set out. She figured he took her to be a weak and lone adventurer, one who should be protected. Little did he know that he was the one who needed protecting.
Occasionally, she pictured herself decapitating the man for his annoying behavior, only to remind herself that decapitating friends was not very polite. A strange thought, certainly, but not uncommon. Over the past two months, thoughts like these had often visited her dreams both in the day and at night. It was much worse when she saw blood. Even more so under the full moon.
Their group continued marching until they arrived at the entrance of a small village. Hundreds of crows surrounded the village; it was clear that Brother Death had paid a visit recently. Gong Lan looked toward Han Jinlong, who dismounted his flying sword. The ugly expression on his face became extremely apparent when he looked toward the hundred mercenaries and motioned for them to quiet down.
“Everyone, separate into pairs and look around. See what you can find. Also, keep your eyes peeled for runic symbols. Zhang Yifeng’s group recently encountered a trap array formation in Crystal Meadows, so we need to be extremely cautious,” Han Jinlong said.
This caused much discussion among the many mercenaries, which was likely why he had waited until now to share the news.
How does he know this happened? Does he have some sort of tool that he can use to communicate with the squad leaders? Gong Lan wondered. Like clockwork, her annoying “friend” chimed in with words of reassurance.
“Luckily, I’m a third-grade spiritual blacksmith,” he said. “While I’m not very gifted in runes, I should at least be able to spot unusual ones if I get close to them. Don’t worry, Sister Gong, you’re safe with Brother An Hao.” The man beat his chest, and Gong Lan had to resist rolling her eyes. Clearly this man overestimated himself. Cha Ming was a seventh-grade talisman artist, and even he wasn’t able to stop them from triggering the trap. An Hao didn’t stand a chance.
Hopefully he’s okay, she thought. And Huxian, too, that cute little fox. That cute but freakishly strong fox. She still hadn’t gotten over the consecutive defeats she had suffered at the baby spirit beast’s hands, especially the ones where she had teamed up with Cha Ming for good measure.
Since they had to pair up, she decided to team up with An Hao. She couldn’t let such a nice guy die young. Besides, she could use it as an opportunity to give him a sober awakening and show him that she really didn’t need to be taken care of.
She had prepared herself mentally before entering the village, but nothing could have prepared her for the sight that greeted her. Hundreds of crows flew away as they walked in, revealing a sight that caused the entire group to hesitate. Even Han Jinlong could barely maintain his composure. Over three quarters of the mercenaries gagged and threw up, including the experienced ones.
Corpses littered the ground as far as the eyes could see. Most of them were either dismembered, partially eaten, or both. If Gong Lan had not experienced these past two months of merciless slaughter, she too would have vomited at such a sight, like her friend An Hao. Now, she did not feel any revulsion, only anger.
She took a few moments to calm down, then gritted her teeth before heading toward the front, where Han Jinlong was standing. She saw that his eyes were red and moist. She was sure he only held back his tears for the sake of the men behind him.
“Spread out and search for survivors,” he said amidst the sounds of retching men. Gong Lan dutifully walked toward one of the houses.
An Hao, who was still feeling queasy, dutifully stayed beside her. In fact, he still remembered to try opening the door for her, only to jump back in surprise as she kicked it open to vent her temper.
“Light a torch,” she grunted as she pulled out her twin sabers. Her intimidating demeanor prompted immediate compliance. The man quickly produced a spirit lamp, which could burn for hours without being extinguished. He also held a three-foot sword in his right hand, ready to fend off any potential assailants.
The inside of the house was no different than the outside. The walls were painted in blood, and the putrid stench of rotting flesh nauseated them as they made their way through. They found nothing of importance. There were no records of the incident, indicating that it was likely a sudden invasion.
The duo continued looking through several more houses, finding roughly eight bodies in the process. It was only an estimate, however, as very few of the bodies were intact. In the fourth house they looked through, they found a secret compartment behind a bookshelf. The books had all been cleared and were spread out across the floor. Only now did Gong Lan realize that she hadn’t found a single valuable thing, which was common behavior for bandits. Yet she knew in her heart that these were not mere bandits; slaves were worth money, and they would never allow such wanton slaughter.
Her feeling was confirmed as she opened the hidden compartment behind the bookcase. There she found four whole corpses huddling together. They had clearly been trapped there for at least a few days.
Why would bandits spend several days in a village? The thought quickly sparked her temper once more as she recalled the corpses of naked women and prepubescent girls, women and girls who had clearly been disrespected thoroughly before their death. The thought caused her to lash out with one of her sabers, taking out a chunk from a nearby wall. An Hao quickly jumped back in fright, thanking his lucky stars that he hadn’t been standing beside her.
Putting away her sabers, she
quickly patted down the rotting bodies, looking for any signs of identification. She soon found a notebook inside a man’s bag of holding. After flipping through this booklet, she concluded that the man’s name was Han Wenqing.
“Is he related to Han Jinlong?” she wondered aloud.
Just as she was about to leave the hidden compartment, she spotted some unusual red characters. These characters weren’t runic characters, but ordinary writing. They were written in blood, likely from the man’s bloody finger. The message was clear: “Beware the Blood Moon.” Gong Lan shivered involuntarily before making her way back to the center of town.
Han Jinlong nodded as he heard her findings and accepted the small notebook solemnly. He then took out a black notebook and jotted down some details. Seeing that most mercenaries had returned, he yelled out in a booming voice, “Everyone, we’ll stay a day here and bury the dead. We owe them that much.”
With these words, a large shovel quickly materialized in his hands. He dug the shovel into the ground, setting the example for the rest of the mercenary team.
At least when he worked, the sweat would hide his tears.
Gong Lan was running. It was a dream, the same dream that she’d had for the past month. She was running because she had slaughtered someone influential. He had committed atrocious deeds, and she had punished him for them. Yet to her surprise, dozens of cultivators chased her down to bring her to justice. Why was the world so unfair?
A soldier jumped out at her as she rounded a corner. She quickly dispatched him with one of her twin sabers. His blood splashed onto her, adding to the bloody film on her skin. In the dream, she always smelled blood. She always felt anger. Why? Why? Why?
The dream was always the same. She always killed someone with just cause, yet the world punished her for it. It made her angry, and it made her curse the world.
She continued to run about in the dream for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, she saw the familiar apparition of her twin sabers. They were red and pulsating with blood.
Why don’t you just give in to your anger? they asked. Why do you run away? Things will be so much better if you just give in and kill them all. It doesn’t matter if they condemn you, because dead men can’t judge. She ignored the tempting voices in her head. She was afraid that if she gave in, she would lose herself.
The sabers continued asking over and over, nearly driving her to madness. Finally, after they saw that she would not submit, they flew up in the air and put her out of her misery. They allowed her to leave the terrible dream.
Gong Lan gasped as she woke up with a start. She was holding one of her sabers, and that saber had just torn a hole in her tent. She thanked the heavens that she had a tent to herself, as her slashing motion would likely have decapitating anyone sleeping beside her.
These dreams came to her every night, and she knew instinctively that no matter what, she couldn’t give in to those bloody sabers. She wished she could throw them away, but she relied on them. How many of her friends would die if she didn’t? Everything good thing in the world had a price.
After getting up, she showered with water qi. The filth and sweat left her body, but she could never wash away the smell of blood, which seeped into her very core. One day she would throw away these wretched sabers. But not today.
Her brother had once told her to see him if she ever felt strange, like all the killing was too much for her. He had succumbed to bloodlust in the past, and it had taken him a year to recover. However, that was after he had bathed in the blood of his enemies for half a decade. She had only started two months ago. How could she face her brother when she was so weak? She needed to be strong. For her brother and her friends, personal safety be damned.
As she walked out of her tent, she was greeted by the smell of roasting meat. An Hao was cooking the duck he’d caught yesterday.
“Breakfast is almost ready, Sister Gong.”
She wasn’t in the mood to complain now and thanked him gently for the breakfast. He then joyfully rambled on for a good half hour. She didn’t interrupt him and gracefully nibbled on her half of the duck.
There was one more stop before Jade Spring—the nearby spirit woods. Normally, these woods were off-limits to cultivators. However, the brutality in the village reminded them that people could be even more vicious than animals, and what better place for them to hide than the spirit woods?
This time they fanned out within earshot of each other. Han Jinlong had specially prepared some whistles for the excursion. They had two settings—five-hundred-foot routine whistle, and ten-thousand-foot emergency whistle. Anyone with a matching whistle would be able to hear them, as well as the general direction it came from.
Gong Lan and An Hao paired up once more. After walking a hundred paces forward, she blew a short-range whistle, confirming that everything was safe. They continued for four hours before finally taking a break.
Their lunch consisted of rations of dried meat, stale bread, and dried fruit. It was during their quiet lunch that Gong Lan noticed something strange.
“An Hao, have you heard any birds or squirrels since we came into the woods?” she asked.
The man paused and listened. He then frowned and shook his head. “I can’t say I remember hearing them.” He looked more than a little worried. Yesterday’s events had been traumatizing.
After completing their break, they continued their exploration, and the sounds of whistles continued. This time they tried to keep as quiet as possible, to make out the sounds of local wildlife. All they heard was the gentle rustling of tree branches and some overgrown grass.
What they saw wasn’t any more reassuring. The trees here were strange. Red sap leaked from their thin bark, making it seem like the trees were crying tears of blood.
“Is it just me, or does it smell like blood?” An Hao said softly.
Gong Lan looked at him helplessly. She always smelled blood. She put her hand to her lips, indicating that he should be quiet. She then held the whistle to her lips and drew out her saber.
Gong Lan’s group wasn’t the only suspicious one. Han Jinlong was on high alert. Since the warning from Brother Zhang, he was constantly probing outward with his spiritual force, looking for any arrays that might potentially detonate or trap them.
The sudden smell of blood worried him. Is it the trees? he thought. No, he was familiar with the red sap from these trees. The smell wasn’t coming from them. Four hours later, they still hadn’t found any sign of anyone. They were now in the middle of the woods. The smell of blood intensified with every step, and he hoped they wouldn’t find them remnants of yet another massacre.
After all, he hadn’t had time to properly grieve for his nieces and nephews, whose corpses he’d found in the village. He still held on to some faint hope that his eldest niece and sister were still alive. Their corpses hadn’t been found in the village, but he wasn’t sure whether this was a fortune or a curse. However, hope was all he had. His own wife had passed away long ago, and he had no children of his own.
His thoughts were interrupted by a loud whistle coming from the west. He dashed in the direction of the whistling without any hesitation, only to find a large pool of blood. It was fresh human blood, spilled less than a half day ago, judging by the smell of it.
Han Jinlong saw Gong Lan out of the corner of his eyes. She was clearly seething with rage.
I need to keep an eye on that firecracker. Who knows when she’ll lose it.
Only one thought ran through Gong Lan’s mind. Just how many innocent people died to fill such a large pool of blood?
Her hands gripped her sabers tightly as her blood boiled. She slashed her arm out of reflex with one of her sabers. The pain brought her back to her senses, and she started assessing the situation.
They were situated in a circular clearing surrounded by pine trees. The various holes in the ground indicated that the clearing had been prepared specially for the occasion. But why would the rebels go through all that effort?
“Master Han!” she yelled out hurriedly. The man jumped over to her in an instant.
“What is it, little one?” he asked.
She answered by pointing to a small pool right beside them. His eyes narrowed as he realized what was happening. Just as he was about to give the order to evacuate everyone from the vicinity, the eerie quietness was interrupted by vicious howls and growls. The man’s keen eyesight focused toward the outside of the clearing, where he saw hundreds of shaded figures in every direction.
“Shit. Everyone, group together and prepare to defend our position!”
Chaos ensued as the hundred mercenaries scrambled toward him. They were so scared that he had to physically push himself out toward the edge of the group. “We need to make a circle! I want half of all able-bodied cultivators on the outside, and half on the inside. This is going to be a long fight, and we need to preserve as much energy as possible. When you get tired, step back inside the circle, and someone will relieve you. Be strong, and we’ll somehow survive!”
Within a few breaths, their hastily assembled formation was attacked from all sides by hundreds of weak first-level spirit wolves.
Chapter 24: Breaking the Formation
Slash. Hack. Slash.
Gong Lan was numb to killing, and she used the rhythm of slaughter to keep focused on the task at hand. With every beast she decapitated, her bloody aura grew stronger and stronger. It had been a few hours since they had started fighting, and only three quarters of their group remained. Yet the tide of beasts seemed endless. She wanted nothing more than to jump out and kill every single beast out there, but she forced herself to keep in formation.
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