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

by Patrick Laplante

  “It’s time, which is more than what we have outside these gatherings,” Wei Longshen said. “But let’s not speak of such boring things to our dear friend.”

  “It wouldn’t kill you to have a friend over for tea instead of these parties,” Cha Ming said. “I’m not a fan of getting ogled all night.”

  Wei Longshen winced. “It’s the necessity of things. For one, my family keeps me very busy. For another, our friendship is politically charged. My parents are wary of letting us interact too much in public.”

  “So I’m not the only one who gets treated this way?” Mi Fei asked. “How refreshing.”

  Wei Longshen massaged his brow.

  They sat down, sipped at their cups of wine, and made small conversation. Nothing too personal, as every few minutes, a stranger interrupted to try to insert themselves into their small trio. Huxian had disappeared at some point, likely to meet up with Xiao Bai. Together, they formed a bastion against tasteless company and external annoyances. Their own social clique, whose goal wasn’t commonality but exclusion. A wonderful but impossible goal in the long term.

  They talked, and as they did, the other guests labored about like ants in a hive. They mingled about on orders of their patriarchs and elders, doing their best to gather information or influence the prodigious amount of government officials and magistrates. The Wei Clan did much the same. They had a certain image to maintain among the noble families, clans, and sects.

  The guest hall was as lavish as they came, and it did not miss out in any way. There was great food and drink, and even the decorations were in a tier of their own. The pristine white walls were covered in raised patterns highlighted by blue-gold gildings. Tasteful works of art were displayed every dozen feet for all to enjoy. There were two levels to the guest hall, and their trio sat at a table on the second level, away from the music and dancing that could be seen from their elevated table. Everything revolved around a shallow fountain that didn’t spurt water but blackish wine the guests could fill their glasses with. It was only mildly intoxicating, as per the Wei family’s extensive code of conduct.

  “Does anyone ever fall into the fountain?” Cha Ming wondered aloud.

  “One of my family’s elders once did,” Mi Fei said. “It took months to live down the embarrassment. He wasn’t a drunkard or anything, but he made a clumsy mistake.”

  “I heard nobles have long memories,” Cha Ming said in a measured voice. As much as he wanted to lose himself in conversation with her, it wasn’t his place. She both was and wasn’t the person he once knew.

  “Like you wouldn’t believe,” Wei Longshen said. “In fact, the families go to great lengths to save face. Do you mind if I tell him how your family sorted it out?”

  “Please,” Mi Fei said.

  “As you can imagine, it would be embarrassing to have a rune-gathering cultivator trip into a fountain of wine,” Wei Longshen said to Cha Ming. “They are the foundation of our families. As such, to cover up any weakness from a martial standpoint, they fabricated emotional trauma.”

  “Fabricated emotional trauma?” Cha Ming asked. “They didn’t kill anyone, did they?”

  “Nothing like that,” Mi Fei said. “However, he was known to have a mistress, which for some reason isn’t nearly as embarrassing as tripping over yourself. They paid her handsomely to throw a fit and destroy his personal chambers and end their relationship. In fact, they did it so rapidly that the next day, everyone thought he was just emotionally distraught at having his heart broken.”

  “For a trip in a fountain of wine,” Cha Ming said flatly.

  “To the families, face matters more than even the life of a single member,” Wei Longshen said wistfully. “Speaking of relationships, was that a marriage circlet I saw on Huxian’s forehead?”

  Cha Ming laughed. “His friends decided to prank him without his knowledge. The same friends who made me this suit.”

  “M&T Tailors,” Wei Longshen said, admiring it. “They do good work. I’ve been referred there more than once.”

  “I can get you both a recommendation if you like,” Cha Ming said.

  “I doubt Xiao Bai will let him live down that marriage circlet,” Mi Fei said. “Not for weeks, at least.” While Cha Ming and Mi Fei hadn’t spent much time together since their arrival in the city, Xiao Bai and Huxian’s easy and lasting friendship broke the ice between the two.

  In a sense, Cha Ming was jealous. Xiao Bai, from what they could tell, seemed to retain much of her memories while Mi Fei was kept in the dark. She hadn’t forgotten him like Yu Wen had.

  Wei Longshen cleared his throat. “Are you all right?”

  “What?” Cha Ming asked, then realized he’d been asked a question. Something about not communicating often. “Ah. Training is a big priority for me. I don’t aim low.”

  “You really ought to get out more often,” Wei Longshen said. “So much training is bound to numb the mind and dull the senses.”

  “So much training, and he hasn’t advanced a single rank,” Mi Fei said. “Do you really think he’s training?”

  “I’ve grown stronger, believe it or not,” Cha Ming said. “Besides, I notice you haven’t broken through in six months either.”

  “That’s… different,” Mi Fei said, embarrassed. “I didn’t grow up fighting like you did. I’m not a barbarian who ascended from his home plane.”

  “And I’m not the daughter of a great clan with unlimited resources,” Cha Ming snapped.

  “Let’s not get personal,” Wei Longshen said.

  “Sorry,” Cha Ming said. Somehow, things often got like this. He always managed to provoke Mi Fei somehow, and he didn’t know why. She looked hurt at his last comment. “How goes the family business?” he asked, changing the topic.

  Wei Longshen dove right in. “We had a surprisingly good recruiting wave from ascendent cultivators this time around. And due to our success during our latest mission, we continue to recruit craftsmen from the Kingfisher Guard. They’re not very productive, but every piece they make is of high quality.”

  “You’re still a recruiter since coming back?” Cha Ming asked. “I thought that was a temporary thing?”

  “Nonsense,” Wei Longshen said. “In fact, I’ve just been promoted to recruitment manager. It’s only a matter of time before I’m so overwhelmed with work that I won’t have time to see either of you. All part of their devilish plan.”

  Mi Fei huffed in displeasure. “That’s family for you. They’ll work you to the bone when they need you. When they don’t, they’ll chuck you to the side like garbage. You shouldn’t let them push you around like that.”

  It was another uncomfortable topic they sometimes ran into, and it made Cha Ming regret his jab at her for being from a great clan. He steered the conversation toward more stable ground. “Missions have been drying up. Especially group missions.”

  “Some people call it the calm before the storm,” Wei Longshen said. “Of course, Lord Dripping Blade probably isn’t helping your situation.”

  “He’s got clout where it matters, it seems,” Cha Ming said.

  “It doesn’t make sense,” Mi Fei muttered. “I’ve got a hard enough time finding missions because of my family’s meddling. That much makes sense. But an outside prefecture lord—from a small prefecture, no less—shouldn’t have that much pull.”

  “That would normally be the case,” Wei Longshen said. “But you should know that you didn’t just upset one prefecture lord. You upset two of them.”

  “What does my situation have to do with Lord Burning Lake?” Cha Ming asked.

  “Ember Lake was his nephew,” Wei Longshen said. “Didn’t you know? His mother is Lord Burning Lake’s sister. Though he’s not as upset as Dripping Blade, he’s made his displeasure known.”

  “Like father like son,” Cha Ming said. He sighed. A second prefecture lord getting involved was the last thing he needed.

  “Sister Mi Fei, there you are,” said a woman. She was a beauty with a dark-pur
ple hair she kept in a braid. She wore an elegant green qipao that matched Mi Fei’s.

  “What do you want?” Mi Fei asked.

  “Mother was wondering if we could borrow you, dear cousin,” the lady replied, ignoring Mi Fei’s displeasure. “An argument came up, and we desperately need your input.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Great!” the woman said. She grabbed Mi Fei’s hand and pulled her away to what seemed to be a small family reunion. Mi Fei didn’t stand a chance.

  “They finally got to her,” Wei Longshen said, shaking his head. “I don’t envy her. She disappeared while I was gone, you know. Ran away because her family abandoned her.” Cha Ming did know that much from Huxian, but he didn’t interrupt him. “It must be hard to have such heartless parents.”

  “Her family seems to fawn over her enough,” Cha Ming said. She was getting far more attention than anyone else.

  “It’s all for show,” Wei Longshen said. “Now that she’s useful again, they’re showering her with praise. Resources. Wealth. That’s what makes it all the crueler.” He took a sip from his clay wine jar. “My family didn’t help her much in that regard either.”

  “How is that coming along?” Cha Ming asked awkwardly. As far as he knew, they were in some sort of strange relationship. They’d been engaged, but their families had called it off. Since her recovery and unexpected return, both Wei Longshen and Mi Fei were trying to restore said engagement, quite contrary to the will of their families. Their embarrassment outweighed their regret at having canceled it in the first place.

  “Poorly,” Wei Longshen replied. He sighed, and this time, Cha Ming spotted something that had been well masked. Exhaustion, perhaps. Or exasperation.

  “I’m sure it’s only a matter of time,” Cha Ming said. “They can’t stand in your way forever.”

  “I will convince them,” Wei Longshen said. “Through hard work and determination.”

  Cha Ming’s eyes flickered to Mi Fei and her family clique. “A girl won’t wait forever, you know. You should hurry.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” Wei Longshen snapped. Then he froze and took a few deep breaths. “I apologize. It’s just a sensitive topic. It’s been grating on my nerves.” He loved her. As much as the thought stabbed at his heart, Cha Ming was certain of it.

  “You don’t have to listen to your parents in every matter,” Cha Ming said. “You’re your own man.” He didn’t want to say the words, but he said them anyway. Wei Longshen was his friend, and Mi Fei… Mi Fei seemed happy when they were together.

  “That’s where you and I disagree,” Wei Longshen said. “A man must always be filial to his parents. Otherwise, how can he convince his own children to obey him? How could society function?” He shook his head. “It is best if I convince them.”

  “It’s the best way, but there are worse things than ignoring their wishes,” Cha Ming said.

  “Perhaps,” Wei Longshen said. “In any case, it’s good that you came today. I do enjoy your company, but I had an ulterior motive.” He nodded across the room. On the second floor stood another lone figure who’d just finished a conversation. Cha Ming stared at the man who was glaring daggers at him. He felt danger from that stare. “I invited Lord Dripping Blade to this party. You need to talk to him and resolve this issue.”

  “Are you crazy?” Cha Ming hissed. “He wants me dead.”

  “He has sworn a Dao oath not to act against you on these premises,” Wei Longshen said. “He’s also days away from assassinating you in broad daylight. That would lead to a loss of face, however, so he agreed to meet you. I’m convinced that he wants to resolve this peacefully. He is not an enemy you can afford to be stubborn with.”

  “I’m not interested in resolving this peacefully,” Cha Ming said. “His son killed my friends. He’s in the wrong.”

  “You need to settle this, and quickly,” Wei Longshen said. “If you won’t settle with him, join a faction. The reality of the matter is that he’s not the only interested party. Rumor has it that Dripping Blade’s wife leaked her son’s situation to the public. Lack of resolution is causing Prefecture Lord Burning Lake to lose face. You might be strong, but you can’t even resist one prefecture lord, let alone a second. Not in his home prefecture.”

  Cha Ming gulped. “Is Burning Lake here?”

  “He was not invited, and I made Dripping Blade promise he wouldn’t bring him,” Wei Longshen said. “I tried to settle your blood debt with money, but he wasn’t interested. He wants to talk. So talk.”

  “All right,” Cha Ming said. He was touched by his friend’s concern. In this way, Wei Longshen and Wang Jun were similar. They cared deeply about their friends. He tapped his lips and exchanged messages with Sun Wukong and the Clockwork Ancestor. If he attacks me, how much time could you both buy?

  Three seconds? Sun Wukong answered.

  Two here, the Clockwork Ancestor replied. Though I don’t intend to use my powers for such trivial matters.

  If I die, you die, Cha Ming sent back. She agreed reluctantly.

  Then, armed with five seconds of life-saving grace and weighed down by a mountain of fear, Cha Ming swallowed his pride and headed across the room. He headed for the corridor that Dripping Blade had entered.

  The hallway led to a small wooden door that opened into a large guest room. It was one of many in the house, though this one was more ornate than those he’d been in before. It was large enough to contain a banquet table, a small side table with two chairs and a tea set, as well as an Angels and Devils board that was set up and ready for playing.

  Lord Dripping Blade sat at the small table, where a pitcher of boiling-hot water sat waiting. He’d brewed a cup of tea for himself, though he grimaced as he drank. Cha Ming took his time looking through the room for traps. He used his Eyes of Truth to comb the premises and noticed it contained a few paintings that let off strong auras. There were also a few sculptures as well as a familiar music box featuring a golden dragon. The music box played an unfamiliar tune, but the moment he heard it, his mind immediately cleared up from the pressure Lord Dripping Blade was giving off.

  “Please, have a seat,” Lord Dripping Blade said. He held out a hand for Cha Ming to take, but Cha Ming ignored it. Neither did he touch the cup of tea the man poured for him. “I heard you liked tea more than wine, so I asked for some especially. I hope it’s to your liking.”

  Cha Ming glanced at the cup. Spotting nothing wrong with its contents, he took a sip. He wouldn’t be intimidated by implied threats. “Why are we here?”

  “How brave that you would drink the tea I serve,” Lord Dripping Blade said, ignoring his question.

  “I was told by Wei Longshen that you had sworn a Dao oath not to harm me,” Cha Ming replied evenly. “I might not be able to hurt you, a mighty rune-carving cultivator, but I won’t say no to giving you the chance of harming yourself.”

  Lord Dripping Blade smiled. “Smart. You might just live long enough to become stronger than I am. Which is why we’re even having this conversation in the first place.” He took another sip from his cup.

  “I thought we were having this conversation because you’re upset at the death of your son,” Cha Ming said. He didn’t aggravate the man by insisting the boy deserved it. A civil conversation called for restraint.

  “In a sense, we are,” Lord Dripping Blade said. “But I am a pragmatic man and have lost many sons. I will lose many more, I am sure. What concerns me, and has always concerned me, is the safety of my family as a whole. Geniuses, I am told, always bear a grudge.”

  “I would be lying if I said I didn’t,” Cha Ming replied, measuring his words in case the prefecture lord had an artifact to detect the truth. “Your son Ember Lake killed many of my friends.”

  “So I gather,” said Dripping Blade. “In turn, you and this so-called Dao Lord Black Fish did him in. Or, more accurately, you facilitated his demise, as did Wei Longshen and a few others. It was Dao Lord Black Fish that did the actual killing.�
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  “A technicality,” Cha Ming said.

  “An important one, which will allow me to save face,” Lord Dripping Blade replied. He took the pitcher of hot water—it was fabricated of clear crystal, and the light-blue water it contained shimmered with light reflected from the chandelier at the center of the room. He poured it into the small porcelain bowl filled with tea leaves, then waited. Cha Ming got his first good look at the man.

  Lord Dripping Blade was a tall, thin man with a hooked nose. His hair wasn’t blue like his son’s, but a common jet black. He was pale and gave off an aura of metal and water. He was a calm and calculating man with light-blue eyes that had undoubtedly been changed via an eye technique. He wasn’t burly but well defined. He liked to wear the same silver-blue cultivation robes for any occasion. It complemented the silver sword Cha Ming knew he could summon, though he’d never witnessed the man’s true power.

  It took some time for the water to permeate the leaves, and he poured the tea into both their cups before it could cool. “I’ve been told this is a rare tea,” Dripping Blade said. “It is a famous blend from another continent. It is grown near a major inky well by Star-Eye Monkeys for twenty years before being harvested. The tea must be preserved via runic matrix, or it will go bad within two weeks.”

  “We’re not here to talk tea,” Cha Ming said. “Please get to the point.”

  “I’m sure you’ve guessed my intentions by now,” Lord Dripping Blade said. He took another uncomfortable sip of tea. Did the man just not like tea?

  “But I’d like to hear your thoughts directly,” Cha Ming said. “So there’s no confusion and no assumptions on my part.”

  “Very well,” Lord Dripping Blade said with a sigh. From his robes, he withdrew a golden document. It was covered in a familiar runic script, the type that conveyed normal words rather than deep meanings. Runes were worked into the paper, as were careful threads of karma.

  Upon closer inspection, Cha Ming saw they were imbued with more than domain power. It was as though the document were an entire world—albeit a small one. “A rune-gathering contract,” Cha Ming whistled. “Expensive.”