As for the sky itself, it called to him. He felt it in the music. This was a song of nature. A song of harmony and relaxation. Yes, now that he was a cloud in the skies, he could see it clearly. It was violet here, but clear and open. With countless choices to be made. He wasn’t just a helpless character here. He was writing his own story.
The music finished, and Cha Ming came to. Wei Longshen was smiling, as he usually did after playing. With much of his fatigue gone, however, Cha Ming saw something he hadn’t before: The smile was a lie. It was a mask he wore. The song was full of emotion, but the emotions were not his own.
“How do you do it?” Cha Ming asked. “How can you play things you don’t feel? When I hear your music, I get overwhelmed with raw emotion, but when I look at you, all I can feel is emptiness. Helplessness.”
“This is just my way, Cha Ming,” Wei Longshen said. “Like I said, I’ve long given up on myself. It’s others that matter, not me.”
“And your relationship with Mi Fei?” Cha Ming asked.
Wei Longshen smiled. “Perhaps that’s one of the few times I’ve been selfish. You should have seen us when we were young, Cha Ming. When we were free. Now, you could cut the tension with a knife.”
“Yet I remember a man journeying the world to compose a love song,” Cha Ming said. “I never heard it, by the way.”
“Nor will you,” Wei Longshen said. “It’s for her ears alone. Though to be honest, she’s never heard it either.”
“It seems a shame to make a song and have no audience,” Cha Ming said.
“Perhaps,” Wei Longshen said. “I’m just uncomfortable. You might not know this, but the music I play… it’s never my own.” He gripped his flute and looked out of the patio. That same emptiness returned. “Most songs have already been written, you know. They live in the minds of others. In stories. In nature. When I play, I don’t do it with my own emotions, but emotions remembered. People enjoy my performances because they resonate with their mood or with memories. These are songs that thousands and sometimes millions have enjoyed, and that joy shines through with each note.
“As for mine? That one song I’ve written? That one song I’ve never dared play? I worry it isn’t worthy. I worry I wasted valuable time away from the prefecture, putting myself in a position where I couldn’t fight for the one I was writing for in the first place.”
There was no good way to answer that, so Cha Ming simply drank tea and looked out across the pond and at the trees. Together, they watched the wind blow and heard birds sing. “For what it’s worth, I think your heart was in the right place when you wrote the song. You risked your life for it. I can’t help but think that will shine through to her.”
“Thank you,” Wei Longshen said. “That means a lot to me.”
Cha Ming nodded. “I should get going. There are a lot of pieces moving. I need to make sure everything is in place.”
“Take care,” Wei Longshen said. “Just to be clear, if anything happens to her, I won’t forgive you.”
“I wouldn’t forgive myself,” Cha Ming said.
He left the manor much more relaxed than when he’d arrived, though his friend’s gloom still worried him. He hoped his friend would find his place in his family instead letting himself get pushed around and ordered about. He also thought about their conversation and how it could help him.
Wei Longshen was clearly trying to be oblique about any assistance, and the fact that he hadn’t sent a message to him likely meant such things could be monitored. A troublesome development. He would need to be careful about any message he sent.
Well, at least he’s not angry at me, Cha Ming thought. It wasn’t easy being friends with someone when you were attracted to his significant other. As noble as his intentions were, the possibility of Wei Longshen turning jealous frightened him. He’d seen it too many times before, in this life and in his last one.
Besides, their conversation changed nothing. More and more, he was beginning to realize that Mi Fei was not Yu Wen. They might share the same soul, but she was a different person. Still, he couldn’t help but worry for her. Yu Wen had died for him. He wouldn’t let Mi Fei do so again.
Chapter 11: Employment
“There, are you happy now?” Wei Longshen said to his unseen audience. “Will you finally leave me alone?” He walked around the white stone structure, using his soul to pierce through any falsehood. His scan came back negative, so he turned his attention toward a suspicious patch on the grass he’d been staring at earlier. It wasn’t long before he found a slight depression on the grass beside a gardener, who’d bent over to dig up a weed. There was a sigh, and then a shimmer in the wind.
A blue-robed Daoist appeared. She smiled guiltily. “I’m sure you understand your father’s caution, young master,” the woman replied with a grin. “He only has the family’s best interests in mind.”
“I don’t doubt that in the slightest, Meadow Wind,” Wei Longshen said. “I just wanted you to know that I knew that Father sent you, knowing full well that I would see you and understand his intentions.”
“That’s convoluted,” the woman said. She was strange for what he dubbed a “watcher.” Her hair was dyed red, and one of her eyes was a vivid green, while the other was golden. She wore ink on her skin, and it helped her blend into her surroundings. Oh, and her skintight clothes showed basically everything. “And I have no interest in whatever political games you are playing. I was simply following orders. And that’s Elder Shufen to you.”
“I’ll put a note in my folio, in case I ever decide to address you by your name and station,” Wei Longshen said.
“But the rules—” Meadow Wind said.
“I’m aware of the rules,” Wei Longshen replied. “But you’ve been spying and reporting on me since I was a child. It was because of you that Father learned about my musical hobby. So go on ahead and report. I doubt I’ll be beaten over a triviality. Now tell me, are you satisfied? Are you happy with how I carried things out?”
Daoist Meadow Wind hesitated. “Yes, I’m happy. You didn’t overshare. I’ll report to the Patriarch that you’ve engaged in dialogue that was so obscure that even the shrewdest merchant would have a difficult time interpreting it as direct aid. Then I’ll tell him you were badmouthing him to your friend.”
“A common occurrence, as you well know,” Wei Longshen said.
“Yes, it does get on his nerves,” she said.
“Though he’ll like that less than the reports of my visits to Mi Fei, which I’m sure he asks you to give him in vivid detail,” Wei Longshen said. “Tell me, do you wish to add to his irritation? Would it not be better to report on good news? You realize I’ll be your boss soon enough, don’t you?”
“Maybe I’ll leave that part out,” Meadow Wind said. “Still, it’s beyond me why our family wouldn’t want the Guard to help on shipment security.”
“You really don’t want to hear about the politics of it,” he said. He was surprised to see that she actually did. A curious development. He cleared his throat. “Fine. I’ll give you the basic rundown. But I expect you to refrain from repeating such information.”
“My word of honor,” she said, making a very lazy salute. She jumped and floated through the air, lightly landing on one of the pavilion’s stone railings. It was in the center of the courtyard, and the grassy island it was on was surrounded by water. She sighed. “No one ever tells me anything.”
“That’s because you don’t need to know,” Wei Longshen said. “Despite your official title, you’re a watcher, not a spy. Watchers are meant are meant to watch, not understand. Spies need something more. Would you like a referral? I know the manager of our information division.”
“I’ll think about it,” she said. “I’m just curious for now.”
“That’s where it always starts,” Wei Longshen said, putting on his hat as recruiting manager. He picked up an untouched plate of food on the tea table and held it out to Meadow Wind. “Snack?”
“Do
n’t mind if I do,” Meadow Wind said. Her hand blurred, and one of the snacks quickly disappeared.
“You’ve gotten better at that,” Wei Longshen said. “A useful skill for a thief or spy. Though I’ll remind you that spying is risky. It’s also highly illegal.”
She nodded as she chomped on the hard pastry. It was brittle and powdery.
“Now to indulge your curiosity. The reason for being so obtuse is this: while we hate the caravan attacks and want them to stop, no one likes a snitch.”
“You think a clan or sect is responsible?” she asked.
“It’s highly probable,” Wei Longshen said. “Therefore, we must take balanced actions. We want justice. In fact, we crave it. But we want to keep our friends happy. If they happen to be the offending party, and they are discovered, we certainly wouldn’t want them to find out that we were the rat. Yet we must also balance our obligations to the empire, and if the Kingfisher Guard were to ask us directly, we would have to provide all the information we can. Without reservation. Therefore, it is sometimes best to provide aid that isn’t straightforward. To point out the right direction. The recipient of said aid would understand our predicament and not interrogate us officially.”
“That’s a mess. You know that right?” she said. “But I guess you’d be able to deny substantial involvement under a truth oath or by truth watcher.”
“Exactly. By doing things this way, we can avoid looking like the ones who’ve figured it out,” Wei Longshen said. “Though I’ll admit, we’re far from that. But I have faith in my friend. He’s smarter than he looks, and he has many friends. At the very least, he should understand that I want him to come at this problem from a different angle.”
“Which is?” Meadow Wind asked.
“Think about it,” Wei Longshen said. “He’s running into obstacles, looking at what was stolen and who it harms in the city. That is entirely the wrong way to look at it. There are more than two parties being harmed here.”
Meadow Wind frowned. “I don’t follow. Seems to me like those who import goods are both the shippers and receivers. They buy at the origin and ship things back to the prefecture. All losses are on them and the shipping company.”
“Then tell me, who are they buying from?” Wei Longshen asked.
“From humans in the prefectures and demons in their territories,” Meadow Wind said. “Eighty percent in demon lands, twenty percent from humans. Proportionally as many raids on both sides, and just as much value.”
“Wonderful,” Wei Longshen said. “Which demons?”
“I beg your pardon?” Meadow Wind asked.
“It’s a very human thing to do,” Wei Longshen said. “When you look at people in the city, you see clans, sects, families, and individuals. You see notable cultivators. You see companies. But when you look at demons, what do you see?”
“Demons?” Meadow Wind said uncertainly. “They’re demons, young master.” Then she slapped her forehead. “Of course. It’s not about hurting humans. It’s about hurting demons.”
“Which I’m hoping they’ll discover soon enough,” Wei Longshen said. “I’ve dropped a few hints to Killjoy in my report. Nothing too extreme, but a simple statement: two shipments intercepted were en route from Star-Eye Monkey Clan and one was en route from the Iron Wolf Demons.”
“So you’re saying some clans are being damaged more than others,” Meadow Wind said. “That would seem obvious.”
“But the number of convoys intercepted are the same,” Wei Longshen said. “Proportionally speaking. If you looked at shipment values, however, things would be different. Assuming everything is correctly accounted for.”
“Now that just seems too easy when you say it that way,” Meadow Wind said grumpily. She also sighed. “I’d better go make my report. You’re not sneaking out on me, are you?”
“Alas, I have a field visit to make,” Wei Longshen said. “While you report to your master, I’ll be indulging in all manners of depravity and clandestine activities.” Then, seeing her scowl, he laughed. “I’ll be back this evening. I’ll also be practicing in the guest courtyard. When you’re sent to spy on me, would you mind watching my back and making sure I’m not being unduly influenced?”
“It would be my honor to guard your mental chastity while listening to a private concert,” Meadow Wind said with an exaggerated bow.
“Why do I put up with you again?” Wei Longshen asked.
“Because I’m fun to be around,” she said. “And as much as I like ratting you out, at least I don’t want you dead. Not like those brothers of yours.”
“They don’t want me dead,” Wei Longshen said. “That would be too easy. And horribly unjust. They just want what’s for the best of the family, Meadow Wind. Always for the family.”
“I’ll be sure to look for errant swords and arrows heading their way,” Meadow Wind said. “In case they tempt you to do the right thing and take a mortal wound for them.”
“Fortunately, I know that my personal survival is the right thing for the family,” Wei Longshen said. “And they know that I know, so they won’t try anything so silly. It’s a game, you see. One we were born to play. You might even like it since it’s not your life that’s on the line. Now buzz off. I’ve satisfied your curiosity. I’ve got a job to do.”
“Don’t enjoy yourself too much,” Meadow Wind said, rolling her eyes. She knew full well that he wouldn’t.
Wei Longshen hated his job. He wasn’t bad at it—far from it. In fact, he was one of the best. Nevertheless, he wasn’t satisfied. It didn’t sing to him like a good job should. It was this thought that hung heavily on his shoulders as he exited a small ship downtown on a popular business street.
A man waved up ahead. Wei Longshen nodded as he approached. “I think I’m on time,” Wei Longshen said.
“I thought you wouldn’t make it,” the man replied. “The streets are a bit narrow here. Not efficient like the newer glass ones.” They were narrow, and they would stay that way for a while yet if Wei Longshen had a say in it. Due to the longevity of their materials and the exquisiteness of their runes, the buildings here were wooden and of a traditional design. Relics of an age long past. Not at all like the glass monstrosities that were popping up everywhere.
Despite being over fifty stories tall, these wooden buildings were works of art. They were hand carved and beautifully painted. Every few floors sported curved roofs made of clay or stone tiles. They had the look of mountain temples with all the convenience of crowded downtown buildings. If it were only that, they would be nothing special. But the hanging gardens brought everything together.
“We still have three minutes before my appointment, Fleet Singer,” Wei Longshen said. “Care to fill me in?”
“I’ll give you the rapid rundown,” Fleet Singer said. He casually adjusted his Tang suit—mostly plain with few decorations—and scratched behind his feline ears. Fleet Singer was a cat demon, complete with mandatory tail and vertically slit pupils.
“How long has she been sitting inside?” Wei Longshen asked.
“Fifteen minutes,” Fleet Singer said. “I saw her entering from a few blocks away. She seemed… distracted. Unconfident. Worried.”
“Did she smell dissatisfied?” Wei Longshen asked.
“Definitely so,” Fleet Singer said. “It’s the kind of thing you can’t miss—it affects the way you move, the way you stand, and the way you smell.” And according to the demon, it also affected the speed of a person’s heartbeat. The man was a scout, someone with special senses sent ahead to discover additional information. Useful in both war and commerce.
“Thanks for the good work,” Wei Longshen said. “You have a few more targets to scout today, don’t you?”
“Twenty if I’m lucky, fifteen if I’m not,” Fleet Singer said. He nodded to the girl sitting at the window. “You be careful with her. She doesn’t look very emotionally stable.”
“Noted,” Wei Longshen said. Fleet Singer scurried away toward his next job
, while Wei Longshen pushed through the doors of the teahouse and spoke to the waitress, who dutifully led him to the window table.
“Hello, miss,” the waitress said. “I believe you were waiting for this guest?”
“I… um… yes!” the woman said and stood up. She bowed lightly, and Wei Longshen bowed back.
“Would you be so kind as to get us a fine pot of tea, my dear?” Wei Longshen asked the waitress.
“Of course. What would you like?”
Wei Longshen inspected his potential recruit and confirmed the anxiety and tension the scout had spotted. It was subtle, but definitely there. It wasn’t the normal kind that accompanied this kind of meeting either, but something deep-seated. Something chronic.
“Something relaxing, I think,” Wei Longshen said. “Anything will do. Oh, and matching snacks. I don’t think the miss has had breakfast yet.” His guest flushed in embarrassment. “Please sit. No need to be so formal. My name is Wei Longshen. What’s yours?”
“I’m Daoist—”
“Let’s skip Dao names,” Wei Longshen said. “I find they’re very insulating and too formal.”
“Right…” the woman said. “My name is Hu Bi. Pleased to meet you.” She was a young woman in her early twenties. She was of middling weight with shoulder-length black hair. Her black eyes hid nervously behind carefully trimmed bangs. When looking at her, Wei Longshen was reminded of a scolded servant or a berated pet.
She needs a change, and badly. Almost as badly as he did.
“I’m pleased to meet you as well,” Wei Longshen said. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”
“R-right. I’ve been working for Stone Ward Cartography for three years, and I’ve been on many successful projects, and—”
Wei Longshen cut her off. “This won’t do at all. You’re too stressed out. You have prepared lines. You’re too eager for the job.”
She looked down, sulking. As she did, a waiter brought tea. Not the same waitress as the one who’d brought him over, as she was busy welcoming other guests. The man placed the pot in front of them and poured them each a cup. Meanwhile, another waitress swooped in and handed them a few plates of snacks.
Crown of the Starry Sky: Book 11 of Painting the Mists Page 16
