Crown of the Starry Sky: Book 11 of Painting the Mists

by Patrick Laplante

  As though sensing his thoughts, her tone mollified. Don’t worry, I can see that you have been putting in a good effort. Should you succeed in finding me a suitable inheritor, I will gift you a technique. It won’t lose out to either the turtle’s or the snake’s technique.

  You really don’t go for modesty, do you? Cha Ming answered.

  My technique is very majestic, the Clockwork Ancestor said, not noticing his sarcasm. But more importantly, you can fuse them together with the other two techniques you possess.

  Cha Ming frowned. You mean Raging Waves of the Inky Sea and Searing Sands of the Sacred Desert?

  The very same, the Clockwork Ancestor said.

  Cha Ming sighed. I promised to do it, so I’ll do it. Now, please stop talking. I need to get things done. He was in the mission hall, which occupied an entire floor in their building. In the Burning Lake Prefecture, buildings were taller than in the Dripping Blade Prefecture. The Kingfisher Guard Station was no exception.

  He walked through the room, which hosted a scattering of people. The place was filled with tables, some with shields to prevent eavesdropping. Most were just there for people to casually sit and talk. Aside from a long desk that occupied an entire wall, the entire edge of the room was occupied by the mission board.

  Looking through the mission board was tedious and exhausting. Most people who hadn’t seen it would imagine it as sheet of cork with pieces of paper stuck on it with pins. Well, when dealing with thousands of high-level transcendents, that just didn’t cut it. How could such a system possibly transmit the necessary amount of information? As such, the mission board consisted not of a flat wall, but a hundred meters of mission jades stacked ten feet high. Each of them would be individually scanned with transcendent force by interested individuals.

  It took Cha Ming a half hour to sort through it all, and by then, he was mentally exhausted. There were thousands of pieces of information, including maps and battle projections to witness. A mortal’s mind wouldn’t be able to withstand the information density of more than one or two of them.

  See anything you like? Sun Wukong asked hopefully. A cult to eradicate? A mysterious threat to the empire? Or are we going to be stuck here making talismans?

  There are a few options, Cha Ming said. If they’ll take me.

  It was difficult to find missions these days. He didn’t like individual missions and preferred to take on group missions. The reason for this was quite simple: Prefecture Lord Dripping Blade was visiting the city and had been since his arrival. Cha Ming and Silver Fish were directly responsible for his son’s death, and as a result, the visiting lord had been causing Cha Ming quite a bit of trouble. More members would help shield him from interference.

  Cha Ming grabbed a few of the jades and took them to one of the assistants in the mission house.

  “The usual?” she asked as she accepted the jades. Daoist Pepper Glove was a wonderful lady and had gotten used to dealing with him. He dealt with her almost exclusively.

  “Yes. Please ask if they’re fine with my joining,” Cha Ming said. His reputation was good, but Lord Dripping Blade was influential, even outside his home prefecture. Most groups refused to work with Cha Ming. “About my posted mission…”

  “I got a few tidbits,” the assistant replied. “Five merit points.”

  Cha Ming clicked his jade to a larger jade on the counter. His merit points were instantly deducted. She handed another jade slip to Cha Ming, and he looked through it, absorbing its information before crushing it.

  It wasn’t much. A mysterious man had been sighted saving some helpless passengers at sea. Some adventurers in the spirit woods had been rescued, also by a mysterious man. In all the descriptions, he was described as wearing a black cloak. His arms, when exposed, were said to be covered in black tattoos. There wasn’t much to go on, which was good. There would be hell to pay if Lord Dripping Blade found him first.

  So what next? Sun Wukong asked. I’m dying here. It’s so boring.

  Have you already forgotten? Cha Ming asked. Tonight, we go to a party.

  Oh, good. I like parties, Sun Wukong said. Oh. That party.

  Yes, that party, Cha Ming said. His good friend Wei Longshen—or Daoist Eternal Song as many knew him—was hosting a dinner party. He’d promised to attend. That wasn’t the problem. Instead, the problem lay with Wei Longshen’s fiancée—or ex-fiancée—Mi Fei. She didn’t hate Cha Ming. Their relationship was rather neutral. Unfortunately, Cha Ming knew her by another name. In her previous life, they’d fallen in love. He’d sworn to become an immortal to find her in the cycle of reincarnation, only to find her again in his current life, romantically engaged with his best friend in the entire plane, aside from Huxian.

  You could tell him you’re sick, Sun Wukong suggested.

  I did that twice already, Cha Ming said. Brother Longshen made it quite clear he wouldn’t take no for an answer this time.

  Well, at least there’ll be pretty girls, Sun Wukong said. I mean, pretty girls you won’t even look at. What a waste. Anyway, let’s get going. I can’t wait.

  Please promise you’ll behave, Cha Ming said. He could be a handful, even in his invisible spirit form.

  I always behave, the Monkey King said. His spiritual form appeared beside Cha Ming. Even here, where rune-gathering cultivators roamed the halls, it wasn’t easy to see him. The red-bearded man was grinning like an imp.

  Cha Ming sighed and left the building. He would go to the damnable party. But first, he was going to see his tailor.

  Chapter 2: Meeting

  Unlike the Dripping Blade Prefecture, the Burning Lake Prefecture was tapered and not evenly built. The prefectural manor at its center stood tallest in the company of hundreds of other skyscrapers that were a blend of modern glass-and-metal architecture and the traditional Asian style Cha Ming remembered from Earth. The tall buildings loomed overhead as Cha Ming flew on a four-man ship along evenly spaced roads in the middle of the air, clearly indicated by transparent projections.

  It was a fusion of old and new, all brought together by ample greenery that covered most of the building walls in a modern version of the hanging gardens of Babylon. Each building grew its own plants in its own fashion. Further, each building complemented the greenery with bright runic lights and other equally magical displays. It didn’t take much to guess that the Burning Lake Prefecture was much richer than the one Cha Ming had originally landed in.

  The buildings tapered down as Cha Ming headed toward the outskirts of the city. It took him roughly an hour of flying on one of the city’s fastest roads. Though the ship he traveled on wasn’t fast, the prefecture lord had thought to install high-speed traverses that allowed swift traffic in and out of the different sections of the city. He followed the downward taper from the tallest buildings near the southwest coast toward the northeast, until soon, he was driving just ten meters above the main road where landbound vehicles traveled between twin pedestrian walkways.

  Cha Ming slowed as he reached the edge of the city. On one side of the road stood factories, shipping yards, and scattered estates of the mercantile class and lesser nobles. On the other lay a much poorer section of the city. He exited the high road and steered his ship into one of the better areas of the rundown district. His destination stood at a crossroads between rich and poor, where, despite the poorly maintained streets and broken neighboring buildings, expensive ships were parked in a guarded lot adjacent to a large two-story building.

  A soft bell rang as Cha Ming entered a large shop with an open courtyard design. He was greeted by a gang of sea-nymph employees. A scattering of human and demon customers briefly shot him glances before turning their attention back to the busy demons catering to their every need. The atmosphere could only be described as organized chaos at best. M&T Tailors wasn’t the best managed of establishments, but it had its advantages.

  “Greetings, sir,” said one of the sea nymphs. “How might I be able to help you? Are you interested in a custom suit
? Or perhaps you’re looking for entertainment instead?”

  Cha Ming didn’t recognize the sea nymph, but he smiled and handed her a chit. “I’m just here to pick up an order I placed. Would you mind telling the head tailors I’m here?”

  She bowed and scampered off with the chit. Chaotic as it was, M&T Tailors was a popular place. People came from all over the city for the latest fashions. And if one was so inclined, it doubled as an entertainment venue where famous musicians played to avoid getting gouged in the more expensive downtown venues. Products and service aside, there was another, much more important reason Cha Ming came here.

  “Brozzer Cha Ming, it’s sooo nice to see you,” a heavily accented voice said. A man wearing heavy makeup and a purple suit with lace cuffs came out. His hair was arranged in a loose ponytail. The man was naturally Gua, one of Huxian’s companions, and one of the six co-owners of the shop. “Miiister Mountain just went to fetch your suit. He wanted to personally make sure it iz up to your specifications.”

  “Err, you don’t need to use an accent with me, Gua,” Cha Ming said.

  “Vaat accent is zaaat?” Gua said. He followed up with a mental message. Don’t ruin this for me, you little punk! It took me months to convince them I was a foreigner. Months!

  Cha Ming coughed uncomfortably. “Is Huxian around?”

  “Ah, ze boys are in ze back,” Gua said. “You can wait in ze private courtyard while I see what ze mountain iz up to.” He walked off with a strut that was so confident it would make grown men cry at their own inferiority.

  M&T Tailors, short for Mountain and Toad Tailors, was naturally Gua and Mr. Mountain’s shop. The large man was currently speaking to three enamored ladies about the dresses they were having made. Miyue, the newest addition to Huxian’s circle of friends, somehow made everything work despite the friction in the group. She was a literal blur as she made sure everyone’s needs were met. She greeted Cha Ming briefly as she made the rounds, ensuring every guest was happy. She was the shop’s manager, and she worked hard to keep the other sea nymphs in line.

  Cha Ming made his way past a pair of dashing young masters wearing silk pants and entered the central courtyard. There was a rock feature at its center containing an expensive pool of inky-black water that radiated demonic energy. Despite the signs prohibiting people from drinking it, a small bestial demon of a bird was currently sipping at its contents. An angry old monkey chased it away with a broomstick.

  “Stinking birds,” the man muttered before wandering off, rubbing his lower back.

  Cha Ming walked past the man and the demonic pigeon and proceeded through a closed door to the right, which opened up into another, small open-aired courtyard. There, he heard shouting. The air smelled charged from recent lightning strikes. Cha Ming smiled when he heard the familiar clanging of metal on metal. Those are the demons I know.

  The fighting stopped as Cha Ming entered the room. Huxian lay crumpled on the ground, and Lei Jiang was biting his leg. Silverwing had sheathed one of his two swords in the earth right beside Huxian’s ear and was seated lazily with a bottle of wine in his other hand. The white-robed demon nodded, and Huxian and Lei Jiang scrambled to brush themselves off in embarrassment.

  “Let me guess,” Cha Ming said. “It was his fault.”

  “Yes!” they both shouted in unison.

  Silverwing sighed and shook his head. “Little boss Huxian tried to take control of their joint manifestation again. It went badly, as you can imagine.”

  “We didn’t blow anything up this time,” Huxian muttered. He pulled his giant shuriken of a demon weapon out of the ground and slung it on his back where it belonged.

  Lei Jiang glared. “Only because I stopped you from doing something stupid.”

  “Is it finished, then?” Cha Ming asked. They’d been working on it for months, but to no avail.

  “Not nearly,” Silverwing said. “Though I suppose if you want a chaotic explosion, it’s not the worst thing I’ve seen.” He shook his head. “Attacks friend and foe alike.”

  “Like you could do any better,” Huxian muttered.

  “Lei Jiang and I are perfectly coordinated,” Silverwing said. “Our Stormfront Manifestation works wonders. It doesn’t lose out to Mr. Mountain and Gua’s team manifestation.”

  Huxian glared. “Fight me.”

  “I just did,” Silverwing said coolly. There was more grumbling, but a sea nymph bearing mugs of hot beverages soon calmed everyone down.

  It was many minutes later when Mr. Mountain entered the courtyard. “Apologies,” he said, opening a garment bag and withdrawing a Tang-style suit. “Come,” the tall demon said. “We make you good looking for your party.” He didn’t wait for a reply and violently pulled Cha Ming behind a curtain and proceeded to shove him into the suit, making minor alterations at lightning speed with scissors and thread.

  “This material is very expensive,” Mr. Mountain explained as he worked. “Silk made from wild illusory moth leavings. Leavings, not live-boiled cocoons, just as requested, which made it difficult to gather the materials. The thread was dyed in azure frost ink, and the gold and red patterns were embroidered with solar floss. You will do your friend proud when you wear this.”

  “There’s no lace,” Cha Ming said, moving out from behind the curtain. Huxian and his friends whistled in appreciation.

  “Lace is for pretentious toads and young masters of the Iridescent Phoenix Clan,” Mr. Mountain scoffed. “Real men wear traditional Tang suits with minimal embroidery. Sometimes military style.” He scratched his beard. “It is traditional to wear a weapon.”

  Cha Ming summoned the Clear Sky Staff in a shorter form. It fastened nicely to ties on the back of his suit.

  “Good. Now you will not shame our shop.”

  “What about shoes?” Cha Ming asked.

  “Ah,” Mr. Mountain said. He withdrew a pair from the garment bag. They were mercifully mostly black, with just a bit of golden embroidering. The shoes were cloth, not leather, also upon request. “You are a difficult customer, but not the most difficult one I have met. We made it happen.”

  Cha Ming shrugged. “It is what it is.” He then looked to Huxian. “Did you want to come to this party or not?”

  “Well, yeah,” Huxian said. “Xiao Bai is going to be there, isn’t she?”

  “Then you’d better dress the part,” Cha Ming said.

  “I will not wear a suit,” Huxian said.

  “Not to worry,” Mr. Mountain said, pulling out a garment bag and grinning. “Nice cultivation robes are also fashionable for teenage boys.”

  Huxian tried to escape, but Silverwing was way ahead of him. He caught and held the struggling Huxian while Mr. Mountain forced him into the suit. They emerged shortly after, somehow fully showered, hair washed and styled.

  Finally, Miyue entered the room and fastened a small silver circlet on his head. “You don’t want to embarrass me, do you?”

  Huxian grumbled but accepted. Meanwhile, the others suppressed a laugh. How could the young fox possibly know of the many local traditions where married men wore a metal circlet on their brow? Though it was odd to see a teenage boy wearing one, she’d just marked him as hers without his knowledge. Hilarious since she’d long been friend-zoned and he wasn’t the least bit interested.

  “Shall we?” Cha Ming said.

  “Let’s,” Huxian said.

  They left the shop and headed to the Wei Clan estate just outside the city limits.

  Several hours later, Huxian and Cha Ming were seated alone at a table. Both were stuffed full of food and drink, and quite relaxed. They were done with the senseless mingling that came with such gatherings.

  “Do you know what the worst thing about parties is?” Huxian asked. He was bored, and Xiao Bai had yet to show herself.

  “What’s that?” Cha Ming asked. He poured himself a cup of tea from a small kettle and sipped lightly.

  “All the petting,” Huxian replied.

  “Petting?” Cha Ming
said, surprised.

  “You heard me,” Huxian said. “Oh, it’s not actual petting. That would be fine.” He shuddered. “No, it’s all those annoying girls who want to touch my ears. As if a Godbeast’s ears were there for touching. They have no idea how sensitive they are.”

  “You could just say no,” Cha Ming suggested.

  “I could,” Huxian admitted. “But then they wouldn’t stop asking.”

  “Tell me about it,” Cha Ming said. “Despite all the hate a prefecture lord throws my way, I keep getting invitations to join some clan or sect.” Contrary to what one might think, his enmity with Lord Dripping Blade hadn’t made him a social pariah, but a strange mix between desirable and undesirable. “I’d rather throw up than drink another cup of wine.”

  “Does that mean it’s a bad time to offer you one?” a voice asked.

  Cha Ming and Huxian turned. It was Wei Longshen, the host of the party.

  “If it’s your wine, I can drink it, Brother Longshen,” Cha Ming said. He wasn’t a big drinker, but he now made allowances, mostly for politeness but especially where friends were concerned. Gone were the days where he straight-up refused. He accepted a handmade clay jar of wine from Wei Longshen and nodded to Mi Fei, who was holding his arm.

  “It’s been a long time,” Wei Longshen said. “I’m glad you could make it.”

  “I can’t coop myself up all the time,” Cha Ming replied.

  “I knew that if I badgered you enough, you’d come,” Wei Longshen said. “Honestly, I hate these gatherings. Too many strangers and not enough friends. Wherever did the timeless tradition of spending quality time together go?”

  Mi Fei rolled her eyes. “That’s the line he told me to get me to attend. Though I hardly see how this counts as quality time.”