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

by Patrick Laplante

  “You fought this creature?” Mi Fei asked softly.

  “Sealed it,” Cha Ming admitted. “Huxian somehow ate a piece of it. He’s also stronger than me, by the way. We had to take advantage of a heavenly tribulation to take it out. The camera didn’t like that, so it stopped functioning for a while.”

  Mi Fei continued flicking through pictures. She’d never seen a mortal realm. Apparently, this Ling Nan Plane was a simple place, but it was beautiful in its simplicity. She saw many faces—happy faces and sad faces. She saw men and women fighting for their lives. She saw their hope and desperation.

  She kept going. Cha Ming’s hands were fidgeting. She was flicking quickly, barely taking note of most pictures. When she reached a certain picture, however, she froze. It was the picture of an angry woman defying a devilish creature of unfathomable power. Eight pairs of gray wings shone brightly behind her. She wielded a golden sword worthy of any archangel, and the cloak on her back looked equally powerful. Behind that woman, Cha Ming lay on the ground. He was bloodied and dying. All around them, humans and demons trembled in despair.

  She only got to see the picture for a half second before Cha Ming grabbed the camera and stowed it away. His expression was pained and angry, but it soon softened. “Sorry,” he said. “That, and anything earlier, is too personal.”

  “Was that her?” Mi Fei asked.

  Cha Ming nodded. He blinked away a few tears. “She died to save me, you know. She shouldn’t have. She should have just run away.” He looked regretful. Regretful that she’d died, and he’d survived. “You resemble her,” he continued. “Not just in body, but in soul. I think that’s why I tried to push you away.”

  Mi Fei couldn’t get the picture out of her mind. It seemed so familiar. It shook her to the core. She reached up to her face and found moisture. She was crying.

  “Are you all right?” Cha Ming asked.

  Mi Fei sniffed. She wiped away the few tears that had fallen. “I think I understand you a little better now.” She felt overwhelmingly sad. She didn’t know this woman, but somehow, she could put herself in her shoes. She forced herself to smile. “I guess you’re not a chauvinist pig like I first thought. You’re just hurting inside.”

  “I’m still sorry,” Cha Ming said. “I’d love to have you on the team. Tell me, are you in?”

  “Sure,” Mi Fei said. “As long as Killjoy is in.”

  “What is with people not wanting to join if Killjoy doesn’t?” Cha Ming muttered.

  “Someone needs a brain,” Mi Fei said. “Your dealings with Dripping Blade and Ember Lake don’t exactly inspire confidence, and quite frankly, seeing pictures of you in battle has only strengthened that opinion.”

  “I won all those fights!” Cha Ming said defensively.

  “Maybe,” Mi Fei said. “But you still jumped into them waving a big stick.”

  Cha Ming grumbled, and they changed the topic to a more pleasant one—traveling. They’d both been to many places, and it was relaxing to speak of a common interest instead of bickering.

  Some time later, Mi Fei was walking away from the restaurant. Cha Ming walked back toward the guard station, probably to update Killjoy on successfully changing her mind. Bless that woman, did she ever look out for people like her when they needed it most.

  It wasn’t long before Xiao Bai joined her.

  “Traitor,” Mi Fei said when the demon appeared.

  Xiao Bai grinned. “It’s only colluding with the enemy if they’re still the enemy.” She looked at Cha Ming’s back. “So, are we in?”

  “Yes, we’re in,” Mi Fei said.

  “Great!” Xiao Bai said. “I hate cities. I was getting bored here.”

  “You aren’t the only one,” Mi Fei said.

  They took a public ship home. Not because they couldn’t afford a personal ship to the other side of the city, but because she really didn’t want to get there in a hurry. In the Mi family manor, only her handmaid, her handmaid’s mother, and her sword instructor actually cared about her. Oh, and the stablemaster, though he’d retired recently.

  As they rode, Mi Fei couldn’t help but think back to that picture of the defiant woman. She’d only seen the picture for a half second, but it had seared itself into her mind. Who was she? What was her name? Who was she fighting? Why were her wings gray like hers and not jade or ochre?

  “Xiao Bai?” Mi Fei whispered. “Does the name ‘Yu Wen’ mean anything to you?”

  Xiao Bai’s ears twitched. “Not at all,” she said. “Where did you hear it?”

  “I didn’t,” Mi Fei said, closing her eyes. “I saw a picture on a camera, and I thought about it.”

  Xiao Bai frowned. “What was in the picture?”

  “Cha Ming, helpless on the ground,” Mi Fei said. “A woman was shielding him with gray mist and facing off against a dark evil using a holy sword and eight pairs of gray wings.” She chuckled slightly. “She feels so familiar. I can’t help but wonder who she is, and when I think about that picture, I hear a name in the back of my mind. Yu Wen.”

  “Reminds me of those strange dreams you used to have,” Xiao Bai said. “Just ignore the picture, and you’ll forget all about it.”

  “Right,” Mi Fei said. The dreams. She’d all but forgotten about them. Yet there was something about that picture that spoke to her. Something she couldn’t ignore. No, she could forget those dreams, but never that picture. She could never forget that name, or that woman. She could also see why Cha Ming looked at her strangely. The resemblance between them went beyond those strange gray wings that resembled her own and the clouds of Grandmist she controlled.

  Xiao Bai cleared her throat. “We’re here.”

  Mi Fei looked out and realized it was already late afternoon. The entire day had gone by in the blink of an eye. Their ship, which took an extra-slow circuit through the city, was just a few kilometers from their estate. “I feel like I’m forgetting something.”

  “Dinner with Wei Longshen,” Xiao Bai said immediately.

  “I thought it might be related to food,” Mi Fei said. “Why are we even on this transport?”

  “When you don’t know what to do, you run,” Xiao Bai said, shrugging.

  “I do?” Mi Fei asked. She’d never noticed that.

  “Yeah,” Xiao Bai said. “It’s in your nature. Just don’t forget, you’re not alone. You can talk to little old me. I’ll always be there with you.”

  They stepped off the transport and began walking back to the Mi family manor. Slowly, so she could claim she was in a hurry when they got there. Anything to avoid making conversation.

  Chapter 9: Preparation

  You’re playing a dangerous game, Sun Wukong said. His ghostly figure walked beside Cha Ming in the Kingfisher Guard Station. Cha Ming had just finished his meeting with Killjoy. They had a team now, and at least the start of a plan.

  What do you mean? Cha Ming asked. The plan seems fine.

  I’m pretty sure you know exactly what I’m talking about, Sun Wukong said sternly.

  Cha Ming sighed. I didn’t share much. Xiao Bai will understand. Besides, showing her the picture was an accident. I only meant to show her the Space-time Camera to test her reaction to it.

  Sure, sure, Sun Wukong said. I’m sure she’d be much faster than you, the person the artifact’s soul is bound to, who could unsummon it in the blink of an eye.

  I might have wanted her to see it, Cha Ming admitted.

  And that’s the dangerous part, Sun Wukong said. It’s not just a matter of remembering, boy. When you were sitting and talking, I observed that girl.

  What did you discover? Cha Ming asked.

  She’s strange, Sun Wukong said. Her karma is very distorted. Moreover, there’s something sealing that girl’s past memories.

  Cha Ming frowned. You mean she actually remembers them?

  Yes, Sun Wukong said. Or at least, she’s been exposed to them superficially. I saw a seal act up when she saw the picture. It wasn’t a normal seal, Cha Ming
. Even when I was an immortal, I’d never seen anything like it.

  We’ll add that to the list of mysteries, then, Cha Ming said. He’d always wondered about her background. Back on Jade Moon Planet, she was on friendly terms with the test administrators, and had even manipulated things behind the scenes. Her cultivation method had been much greater than his. Yet for all their intimacy, she’d remained silent about her identity. He’d respected her wishes, but still, he wondered. Teacher, have you ever heard of a soul-bound artifact following someone through the cycle of reincarnation?

  It’s happened before, Sun Wukong said. Siddhartha always reincarnates with his Soul Redemption Prayer Beads close at hand. They find him when he remembers his past lives.

  Any others? Cha Ming asked.

  No one else worthy of one ends up getting reincarnated, Sun Wukong replied. They’re so strong that by the time you hear about them, they’re nigh unkillable. Why? Did she bind it?

  Not quite, Cha Ming said. It was more like a half bind. Just by touching it.

  Hm…

  There’s also Xiao Bai, Cha Ming said. I think it’s very strange that she has the same soul-bound companion across lives. Said companion apparently has perfect memory and is awfully protective.

  There are many mysteries in the cosmos, Sun Wukong said, but that’s one of the stranger things I’ve heard of, yes.

  Well, no use thinking about it now, Cha Ming said. I just wanted to confirm I wasn’t the only one who thought it was strange.

  Cha Ming exited the lift on the seventeenth floor of the Kingfisher Guard Station. It was one of three floors that housed a massive library. Books, jades, and information-storage obelisks were available to anyone with merit points. There were many scribes, as well as a few librarians. Cha Ming didn’t bother with them. He proceeded to a small section at the back where they stored something different—memory crystals. Thousands of them lined the walls, and each one glowed with a different color. They were kept in large transparent bottles that protected them from the sun and from natural erosion.

  “Ah, I was wondering when you’d be back,” said a short man with glasses. He resembled a balding forty-year-old man. His cultivation was low, but his soul was extremely powerful. Daoist Shepherd’s Call was a soul oracle.

  “Have you found anything else meeting my requirements?” Cha Ming asked.

  Daoist Shepherd’s Call nodded. “I found two crystals. Wood-based cultivators. Died terribly. They repaid a soul oracle two prefectures away with their memories when he helped avenge their families.”

  “The two souls knew each other?” Cha Ming asked.

  “They were a couple,” Shepherd’s Call said sadly. “They were famous peak-rune-carving cultivators in their prefecture. One of them was known to have gained the Concept of Fallen Leaves. As for the other, she’d gained enlightenment on the Concept of Blooming Flowers.”

  “I’m not sure how the flowers help me,” Cha Ming said.

  “Hear me out on this one,” Shepherd’s Call said. “You’re looking for a particulate Dao. Are flowers not plentiful? Do they not bloom all at once in order to propagate life? Are they not separate?”

  Cha Ming considered for a moment. Though he’d asked about a few different compatible concepts, and even hired a librarian to brainstorm, he still wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for. “Fine. How much for each of them?”

  “Thirteen thousand merit points,” said Shepherd’s Call.

  Cha Ming winced. “I can’t afford that.”

  “Oh?” Shepherd’s Call replied. “With all the attention you’re getting, I thought you’d be loaded.”

  Cha Ming chuckled. “Far from it. For that, I’d need to actually complete a high-profile mission.”

  “Hm,” Shepherd’s Call said. “Well, I can’t help you out for free, Clear Sky. You know that.”

  “Do you have anything else like I asked for?” Cha Ming asked.

  “Only more expensive ones,” Shepherd’s Call said. “One with the Concept of Grinding Sparks. Another with the Concept of Glowing Embers.”

  “I already tried Glowing Embers,” Cha Ming said. “It wasn’t compatible.”

  “Right,” Shepherd’s Call said. “Grinding Sparks is twenty thousand.”

  “It’s not a very good concept,” Cha Ming countered.

  “But fire concepts are rare around here,” Shepherd’s Call said.

  Cha Ming sighed. “Could you give me a discount for both wood concepts?”

  The man thought for a while. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Twenty thousand for both of the wood-based ones,” Cha Ming said. He didn’t have many merit points left. He’d spent quite a few of them on improving himself after the large reward they’d received upon their arrival at the Burning Lake Prefecture. He’d done ten or so silver missions to supplement them, but in the end, missions were difficult to find. At least for him.

  “Fine,” Shepherd’s Call said. He walked over to the back and fetched two green crystals. He didn’t remove them from their storage bottles, as every second they spent in the outside world would cause them to dissipate. Cha Ming handed over his Kingfisher Jade, and Shepherd’s Call deducted the amount. “I’ll probably hold off on acquiring more of these until I know you can pay.”

  “I understand,” Cha Ming said.

  “Do you need to use the infusion room?” Shepherd’s Call asked.

  “Please,” Cha Ming said.

  The small bald man led him past the many shelves of memory fragments and into what looked suspiciously like an ordinary stone temple filled with memorial tablets that didn’t have any runic enchantments. Originally, he’d been skeptical, but even Sun Wukong admitted that without the room’s sealing barriers, it would be difficult to assimilate the memories in the crystals before they disappeared.

  Once Shepherd’s Call closed the door to the temple, Cha Ming lit up nine candles. He then lit three incense sticks and bowed three times to the statue of a strange Buddha. It had six arms, and on each hand was a runic variant of the character for sealing. Cha Ming opened the first container. Spiritual energy filled the air like a thick mist. He breathed in deeply, and as he did, memories came to life. He remembered a young life squandered, and young love long past. He remembered a forbidden garden, and centuries spent cultivating plants.

  Year after year, trees grew leaves. The leaves turned yellow and fell after each season. They accumulated on the forest floor. The thickening layers of plant matter and decay marked the passage of time. Though at its heart, the Concept of Fallen Leaves represented death, it also represented life. It was compatible with his life and death talismans.

  Cha Ming reached out for meaning, as he had many times before. He’d absorbed many memory fragments, and sometimes, he’d even succeeded. Concepts were not like scriptures or technique manuals. They could not be memorized. People observed memory fragments in the hopes of gaining a spark of understanding.

  “Another failure,” Cha Ming muttered. He’d wanted to wait longer before trying more memory fragments. Their usefulness depended on his own life experiences. Though they could induce a spark that led to enlightenment, they were no substitute for his own understanding. He couldn’t build a house without a strong foundation.

  “You’re pushing yourself too hard,” Sun Wukong said, appearing beside him. “How about I help you on this one?”

  “You, help me?” Cha Ming asked, surprised. “You never offer to help.”

  “I seem to have regained some energy after so much soul-gathering incense,” Sun Wukong muttered. “Just unbottle it. We’ll get this done.”

  “I’d like to wait longer, but you’re right. There’s no time,” Cha Ming said. “My life, Silver Fish’s life, and my team’s lives are on the line. If I can find the inspiration I need to break through one more level before the mission, I’ll be much more certain at succeeding.”

  “And how will you define success?” Sun Wukong asked.

  “A fair question,” Cha Min
g said. He didn’t know the answer. They had very little information, which was why they were scouting in the first place. “Whatever it is, stronger is probably better.”

  “Agreed,” Sun Wukong said. “Come. Let’s give this one a try.”

  Cha Ming opened the second bottle. The air filled with a similar green mist. This one was gentler. Softer. It smelled of flowers. It was fragrant. He didn’t immediately breathe in the mist, but waited for Sun Wukong, who summoned prayer beads and began reciting a mantra.

  Upon hearing the Monkey King’s words, the spiritual energy in the room became agitated. It rushed around him and formed a concentrated ball that then morphed into a humanoid shape. It looked at him curiously.

  “Hey there, little one,” Sun Wukong said gently. He stroked it with his finger. “Don’t you look friendly?” The ghost nodded. “Do you think you can help my friend?”

  The little ghost seemed confused. The memory construct floated over to Cha Ming. It lingered a moment, but upon finding whatever mysterious entrance it needed, it dove into his soul. This time, the memories came more clearly. One particular memory came into focus. She was a little girl, and she’d run away from home. It was cold, as spring had just arrived.

  She’d run out of food and given up on living. She was shivering. She was dying. She’d survived the night, but would she survive the day? A cool wind blew over her as the dark sky lightened. Just a little while longer, and her end would come. The sun rose, and with it came a bit of warmth. Not enough. It felt nice on her cold skin. In that moment, she thought of how great it would be to close her eyes and accept her fate.

  In that moment, something struck her. She saw a flower open up beside her. One of the first of the spring. She was suddenly enlightened on a concept, which was rare, given that she hadn’t yet awakened her cultivation. All around her, flowers, buds, and trees came to life. She was filled with energy. It gave her just what she needed, and the sudden bloom brought people over. They found her and clothed her. The flowers had saved her. She was rescued. In the end, that experience had defined her entire life.