That was a relief, though the potential identity of the victim was troubling.
“Someone important, then?” Hong Xin asked.
“Very,” Bai Ling replied. She leaned in closer and looked her in the eyes. “Do you swear that you know nothing about what’s going on and who’s doing this? Do you swear that Wang Jun isn’t behind this?”
“Like I told you,” Hong Xin said steadily, “I can’t speak directly for him. We aren’t joined at the hip. I swear on my mother’s name that I know nothing about who is doing this or their reasoning. I also asked Wang Jun, and he swore to me that he isn’t behind this, and he knows nothing about it either. I happen to trust him, but that’s all I know.”
The question from before still hung in the air. The longer it took for Bai Ling to answer it, the more her dread intensified.
“It was the headmistress of the Icy Heart Pavilion, Headmistress Lan,” Bai Ling said finally. “It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Before, we only had a trickle of members that wanted to join us. Now, the only remaining vice headmistress, Vice Head Ling Fei, has agreed to your request for a merger. The Icy Heart Pavilion would abandon their current headquarters and move here. We would need to promise to protect them.”
Hong Xin frowned. She’d wanted nothing more than their merger, that final check and balance on their dangerous powers. But now, after several months, the opposing faction barely had two thirds of their members left. Their most powerful members had been assassinated, including their headmistress. All that was left were trainees and the less competent.
“One has to wonder how the assassin selected his targets,” Bai Ling said, as though reading Hong Xin’s mind. “He started with a few normal members, but then he proceeded to assassinate two vice heads, then the headmistress. The only remaining vice head was the one most amenable to a merger. They didn’t target randomly—rather, they only targeted individuals with dubious records and stubborn opposition to our proposal.”
“It seems orchestrated to unite us,” Hong Xin said flatly. “Don’t worry, I fully understand how suspicious this seems. I take it there are… other requirements?”
“Yes,” Bai Ling admitted. “Two requirements. Ling Fei has made it quite clear that she’d rather die than join without them.”
“And without her, their faction will have no leadership,” Hong Xin said. “They’ll be broken, their spirits in tatters. They’ll see themselves as dregs, remnants not worthy of attention or representation.”
“Many would likely disperse,” Bai Ling agreed. “Rather than join us, they would go their separate ways, hoping they wouldn’t be targeted. She is the only one who can get them to join us in one group. And having them under our wing is the only way we can enforce a code of conduct on these women.”
Hong Xing closed her eyes. “What conditions?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“One is acceptable, the other is not,” Mistress Huang cut in. “It’s preposterous that she demands it.”
“We had a discussion earlier,” Bai Ling said. “Ji Bingxue agrees that this is necessary. As do I. You disagree, so we can only ask the headmistress for a decision.”
“Rightly so,” Mistress Huang said. “Though I have half a mind to kill this Ling Fei myself.”
“Peace, Mistress Huang,” Hong Xin said. “Tell me, Bai Ling. Just get it over with. I can’t bear it any longer.
“The first condition is to destroy the Oath Stone,” Bai Ling said.
“Done,” Hong Xin replied. She summoned the blue orb, which seemed to beat with an icy energy that resonated with their cultivation. Each one of them dual cultivated kindling and dousing, and though they weren’t affected by the stone’s powers, they still had the same root. She then summoned a second device—a single golden needle.
“I had this commissioned by the Church of Justice. Oath-binding devices are tricky, and destroying them even more so. If not done properly, there could be backlash to every person who has ever sworn upon it.”
She swept her hand, and the needle flew up. She poured the entirety of her cultivation into it. Raging fire and calming ice poured out from her core, through her qi pathways, and into the needle, which glowed brighter and brighter. She also infused her soul force into it. The peak resplendent force added a sparkle to the needle. Bright white glyphs lit up on it and resonated with karma-purifying light.
Infusion complete, Hong Xin was overwhelmed with exhaustion. Bai Ling moved to help her, but she held up her hand. “This is my responsibility. I will see it through, regardless of the second condition. We’ve already made plans to ensure the behavior of the more problematic individuals.”
Bai Ling nodded. Hong Xin held the stone firmly in one hand, then stabbed down with the golden needle. It pierced the center of the orb, shattering it completely. In that instant, thousands of tiny threads appeared around it. These blue threads of icy karma were remnants of oaths once sworn. They flickered, then one by one, they unraveled. They disintegrated, starting from the point nearest the Oath Stone. Hong Xin herself felt warmth surge through her as her own oaths, which no longer bound her, dissolved into nothingness.
“All the sisters who were previously bound should have felt its effects by now,” Hong Xin said. “You may give her the shattered core as proof.” She looked to Bai Ling. “There is no need to mention the second condition. She wishes for me to step down.”
Bai Ling nodded slowly. “She feels you are too prejudiced against dousing arts. We all have blood on our hands, but you are ultimately responsible for the deaths of many of the members that were once close to them. Further, they aren’t sure who is behind the assassinations. You are their prime suspect.”
“All valid points,” Hong Xin said. “If I were to choose between the three of you, it would be you, Bai Ling, who should take over.”
“You seem to have thought this through already,” Bai Ling said, her expression pained. “For the record, I’ve fought back long and hard. The opportunity just seems too good to pass on this time.”
Beside her, Ji Bingxue said nothing. From her, Hong Xin could feel only sadness.
Hong Xin smiled reassuringly. “With this last act, I can ensure that all our sisters are taken care of,” she said. “Unfortunately, I will have to leave you.”
“You don’t have to,” Bai Ling cut in. “There’s no reason for them to force you out of this very building.”
“You know full well why she has to go,” Mistress Huang said, her expression stern. “As I warned you, a retired queen will always hold sway. The leadership of the Red Dust Pavilion would be uncertain. She can only leave to grant you all peace of mind.” She shook her head. “But you can relax. I will go with her to protect her.”
Hong Xin looked up at her. She was both pleased and shocked at her offer. Hong Xin shook her head. “You’re needed here, with them.”
Mistress Huang sniffed. “I am a dinosaur. A memory of an era best forgotten. I have been heir to your throne twice, and I have far too many skeletons in my closet. Besides, if you don’t let me come, I’ll just follow you from afar. I have too few hobbies in my old age, so go ahead and try running. I have plenty of spare time.”
Hong Xin smiled. Mistress Huang rarely showed it, but she did have an affectionate side within that cold exterior of hers. “Very well,” Hong Xin said. She waved her hand, and the simple red robe she wore turned violet. She also changed the glamor on her face. She walked over to a cupboard, where she took out a small bundle. They were her red phoenix dress and her phoenix coronet, the symbols of the Red Dust Headmistress. She’d removed them before they’d come.
She placed them on top of the dresser, feeling the soft fabric of the dress for what would probably be the last time. The peak-core treasure had saved her life many times. She felt for the connection that bound it to her and severed it, freeing it up for Bai Ling’s bond.
“No need to see us out,” Hong Xin said, walking toward the back of the room. There, a secret door opened into a na
rrow hallway. Mistress Huang followed behind her, her dress also changing to a purple hue, and her face had changed to an older, plainer appearance.
“Hong Xin,” Bai Ling said. By now, she had also teared up. Bai Ling, who never cried, finally shed a tear for her. “Take care.”
“I will,” Hong Xin said. She closed the door, leaving the only meaningful life she had behind her.
“Well, that was dramatic,” Mistress Huang said, eating a dumpling from the soup they’d just purchased at a small shop in Gold Leaf City. “Couldn’t have done it better myself. Tears and all.”
“It’s relieving, in a sense,” Hong Xin said. “I thought I’d need to spend the rest of my life in that place. Now I’m free to do whatever I wish.”
“I’m sure that won’t involve getting closer to a certain someone,” Mistress Huang said, rolling her eyes. “Poor old me, retiring from a position of power only to be stuck playing chaperone for two secret lovebirds.”
“No one asked you to come,” Hong Xin said, sniffing. But yes, that was the plan. Perhaps now, she could truly help Wang Jun in his endeavors. She wouldn’t have access to the same resources, but at least now she wouldn’t have to distance herself from him on purpose. As for revealing herself to his family, what did she have to worry about? She was stronger than most cultivators. If they refused her, she didn’t know what to say. She could take care of herself.
“It won’t be all fun and games, you know,” Mistress Huang said, fishing out another dumpling from her soup. She bit its corner and dipped it in a bowl of vinegar off to the side, letting the vinegar fill what little space was left within the rubbery shell. Otherwise, the vinegar would simply roll off the smooth dough shell.
“I know,” Hong Xin said. “But what’s the worst that could happen? They won’t like me? They’ll call me names? Or will they go all out and—”
“Duck!” Mistress Huang said, throwing the table up. The restaurant they were in exploded, sending bits of wood and metal flying everywhere. Flying swords swung at them, and Mistress Huang threw up dual shields of fire and ice to deflect them, summoning her own sabers in the process.
Hong Xin summoned her fan and swung it. Hundreds of blades were blown away by the raging fire that burst out of it, some cutting into those who’d thrown them. Wherever the flames passed, icy shards came out from the ground, piercing shadowy figures that had appeared all around the restaurant undetected.
“Spectral Assassins!” Hong Xin yelled to Mistress Huang, who nodded as she deflected a few blows and pierced one of them in the heart. Its body collapsed, leaving behind only a cloak and short swords.
Since they’d avoided the initial strike, chains flew out all around them. Hong Xin and Mistress Huang danced around them, slashing at assassins, striking out with ice and flame as they drew closer. They navigated the chain-filled maze with inhuman precision, avoiding the dark chains with everything they had. They wanted nothing to do with those black links that gleamed with a thin violet substance. Likely poison, the kind that could be absorbed through the skin.
“Look out!” Mistress Huang yelled. She grabbed Hong Xin by the cultivation robe and threw her back just in time to avoid a dozen spears. Each of them was a peak-core-formation treasure.
Hong Xin tumbled through the air, and by the time she recovered, she could only look on in shock at the grisly scene of Mistress Huang, who’d been impaled by three of them through the chest. The look in her dying eyes screamed at Hong Xin to run.
And run she did. Rather, she danced. Fire phoenixes and ice phoenixes gathered around her, speeding up her arms, her legs, her entire body as she swerved between swords, sickles, chains, and daggers. Poisonous needles burst out around her, not aiming for anything in particular but trying to cover as much ground as possible. She rushed through all of these, evading them as she made for the only exit in the encirclement, the one Mistress Huang had created in her last burst of power before she’d been killed.
She ran with everything she had. The encirclement tightened as the Spectral Assassins flitted between real and unreal, their ethereal forms fast and unpredictable. She killed one, two, and three as she raced toward the closing gap, finally making it to the final stretch. And then, just as she was about to break out into the open air, something struck her in the chest.
It was a hammer, weighing far more than any hammer had a reason to. Her qi shields, weakened by her activities earlier when she’d destroyed the Oath Stone, barely resisted before finally breaking, allowing the hammer to strike true. She saw stars as she sank toward the ground.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” a voice said. “We can’t have you dying on us. Not after spending all that money to find out just who you were.”
Just who I am? Hong Xin thought. I’m no one. Then she saw it. Golden hair speckled with white. The hair wasn’t Wang Jun’s but an older man’s. The Spectral Assassins parted for the older figure, who smiled genially as he summoned a pill and forced it into her mouth despite her protests.
No, not this, she thought. Not this.
She’d thought she’d be safe by going to Wang Jun. It seemed she’d been terribly wrong. Panicking, she moved to circulate her qi. Not in a cultivating pattern, nor in a combat pattern; she circulated in a self-destructive, life-ending pattern. Anything would be better than getting caught by them and used against him.
Unfortunately, her qi didn’t move. It was only then that she noticed a few purple smudges on her arms and legs where she’d been struck by stray chains. The poison didn’t kill; it inhibited qi. She glared at the man, who simply smiled as he kneeled beside her, watching her ribs heal up over the next few seconds.
“The venom is very difficult to manufacture,” the man said. “It’s very expensive, and it uses properties of karma to bind qi. Further, anyone affected by it will quickly build an immunity. It’s far less reliable than qi-binding manacles but much easier to apply forcefully.”
“Go to hell,” Hong Xin spat, twisting to escape the chains binding her.
“But even qi-binding manacles can be escaped,” the man mused, ignoring her struggles. “Therefore, I’ll have to use a more… permanent solution.” He took out a dagger, its gray blade shining with red runes. Then he stabbed it into the middle of her chest. She gasped as it pierced not flesh, but something she’d thought unreachable—her Dantian. It pierced directly into the independent space and struck her core of ice and fire, shattering it. The space around it collapsed and lost all relation to her.
“What have you done?” she gasped, seeing her qi seep out of her body, her qi pathways drying up as her qi withdrew into the collapsing Dantian.
“Crippling someone’s cultivation is tricky,” the man explained, still smiling. “And often wasteful. After all, why not just kill someone, when crippling them might cost ten times or a hundred times more?” He answered his own question. “Your life, fortunately, is worth so much more. Your agony as well. The Spectral Assassins were fortunate to have clients willing to pay for both.”
He waved his hand, and one of the Spectral Assassins clamped a black-and-red collar around her throat, completely restraining her resplendent force. “Unfortunately, crippling a soul is nigh impossible without killing the victim. Therefore, we can only rely on these crude means.”
“You’re a monster,” Hong Xin said between gritted teeth. “And you work with monsters. Your soul will be damned for all eternity. It’s no wonder he hates you so much.”
The man pulled the dagger out of her chest. The gray artifact, which had fulfilled its purpose, was now dull and lifeless, its red runes faded.
“Better to live a monster than die a hero,” the man said, shrugging. “We all do what we must, both for ourselves and our families.”
“Hypocrite,” Hong Xin spat.
“No, I think not,” he replied. “Trust me, I take no pleasure in this. But my dear junior has forced my hand. He’s ruining a plan three hundred years in the making, and I will not stand by and do nothing. He needs to be controlled, and y
ou’ll serve just fine.”
“He’ll never give in,” Hong Xin said. “He might have once, but no longer.”
“We’ll see,” Wang Wuling said, chuckling lightly.
Darkness took her.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The clock ticked away the time to Wang Jun’s morning meeting. He’d scheduled it for later today, as he’d been busy completing some important paperwork. There was much business to be done, much money to be made. Especially given how cooperative everyone had been lately, even without his interference.
There’s something to be said for underhanded means, Wang Jun thought. They get results, and you don’t always have to use them. Now, just the thought of his threats caused his targets to capitulate on demand. Of course, it helped that a mysterious assassin was aiding his cause, weakening targets he was trying to acquire. He had no idea who was doing it. He had even less of a clue as to who was killing people from the Icy Heart Pavilion, and for what reason. They were connected, he had no doubt about it.
Elder Bai would be coming soon. He moved to brew some tea in advance, partially due to thirst and partially to ease the inexplicable anxiety brewing in his heart. Something was happening, something connected to him. He would divine the cause if he could, but unfortunately, he’d lost the ability to predict anything about himself long ago. He was completely covered in a darkness that shrouded everything related to him in mystery. Or was it that he was the mystery, so his predictions were worthless? He supposed it didn’t matter.
There’s been a development, a voice said just as he was reaching for the teapot. Wang Jun paused, then looked to the floor. His shadow was back.
“What happened?” Wang Jun asked. His shadow was usually silent; he would only alert him if something important happened in the city.
Hong Xin has been abducted. She is gone, and I can’t find her.
Pottery shattered.
Wang Jun glared at the shadow. “You’d better not be lying.”
I will take you there, the shadow said.
Shattered Lands: Book 8 of Painting the Mists Page 40
