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

by Patrick Laplante

  There. She’d said it. Or at least, she’d thought it. It was time to let go.

  She liked him. She truly did. She’d imagined a future between them, and it might have even worked. The thing was, she wasn’t willing to wait forever. She had her own life to live. She’d rather be traveling and taking pictures. Eating wonderful things. Living life to its fullest.

  Was it risky? Yes! That was what made it real. Her thoughts raced as she thought about the possibilities. Then knock came on the door, interrupting it all. “I’m busy!” she called out.

  “You have company,” her handmaid answered. “Young Master Wei Longshen.”

  Ah. He’s here, she thought. It had to be fate. She’d just decided on a course of action, and she might as well get it out of the way. It was just one more obstacle in the way of freedom. She only wished she didn’t feel so terrible about it.

  Mi Fei came out of her courtyard wearing the usual family greens. She looked healthier than he’d last seen her, and definitely happier. Her eyes were aglow, and though he didn’t know the reason why, it made him happy.

  “Care for a walk?” Wei Longshen asked. It had been far too long since they’d done so. And today was a good day.

  “Sure,” she said. “Why don’t we walk beside the rainbow carps?”

  “Sounds like a lovely idea,” Wei Longshen said. They walked slowly, and unlike last time, their respective chaperones lingered farther back. They did not loom or try to prevent things like touching hands. It was a good day. Everything was improving.

  “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Mi Fei said, looking at the fish. It was sunny out, and the fish were swimming excitedly. They both seemed happy today, which didn’t seem to happen often. It was good that she’d gone on this mission. For both of them. They’d each had some time to grow in their own way. “Have you heard the story of the carp and the dragon arch?” she asked.

  “Who hasn’t?” Wei Longshen said. He was the story person, not her. “They say that if a carp is lucky enough to fly through a dragon arch, it will become a dragon.” He chuckled and shook his head. “A foolish story, I think.”

  “It’s done wonders for keeping carp in their place,” Mi Fei said. “They keep hopping up their short waterfalls, but humans always find a way to make the arch unreachable. They tailor the obstacle to the breed of carp, you know.”

  “Such is the nature of humanity,” Wei Longshen said. “Or people in general. I believe demons have similar kinds of structure meant to restrain those beneath them.”

  “The truth is, I’ve been doing some thinking,” Mi Fei said. “A lot of thinking on this adventure. It has much to do with carps and dragons. I wanted to wait longer, but I’ve decided something has to happen.”

  “Ah,” Wei Longshen said knowingly. His heart fell. That was what she wanted to talk about. What terrible timing. “I can’t say that I’m too surprised.”

  “And what exactly are you not surprised about?” Mi Fei asked.

  “We grew up together,” Wei Longshen said. “I’ve been watching you all this time. Less like a gardener and more as a bird watcher. Seeing you flit here and there. You like to fly, and you’re beautiful when you do it. But oh, how I like to see you and hold you when you return. It brings me great joy to have you in my life.”

  “It’s always made me happy too,” Mi Fei said softly. “It’s only… this mission has given me more perspective. The world is a big place, Wei Longshen. And I’m not the kind of bird that stays in one place. I’m a migratory bird. Or one that never stays for very long. It’s who I am.”

  “You’re a free spirit, and you deserve the best,” Wei Longshen said. It hurt him to say it, but the part of him that wanted what was best for everyone else forced him to. “If that is what you wish, who am I to say otherwise?”

  “But our engagement…” Mi Fei said.

  “No need to mention it,” Wei Longshen. “We were young and grew up expecting it. But tell me—does a man who loves music keep it to himself? Does he hoard songs and never let others hear it? Music is meant to be free, hopping from mouth to mouth and place to place.” He sighed. “Moreover, that’s what love is, isn’t it? Wanting what’s best for another? Better that you be happy. But I have to ask you: Is that truly what you wish? If I could commit a little more now, would it make a difference?”

  Mi Fei hesitated. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

  “I did some soul searching while you were gone,” Wei Longshen said. “I took some risks, and I changed the very nature of my soul. I got lucky, and in the end, and I found something I was good at. And apparently, that means I’m now quite influential in my family. You may have noticed that our elders are keeping their distance, and just this morning, my father gave me permission to court you. It’s nothing official, of course. It’s a chance. But I believe we can make something work. How’s that for a step in the right direction?”

  “Just like that?” Mi Fei asked.

  “Just like that,” Wei Longshen said. “My father informed me there may be consequences, and that I must bear them if they come. He’s placing the family in my care, after all. But I believe it’s worth whatever risks he mentioned. So tell me, Mi Fei: Do you truly wish to part ways? Or do you wish to be my Dao companion?” The selfish part of him, the small one that held out for faint hope, pleaded with her to stay.

  “I…” Mi Fei said. “This is very sudden.”

  “Let’s take a rest,” Wei Longshen agreed.

  She fanned herself, and after a few minutes, she was finally calm. But he waited patiently, he did scoot a little closer than normal. Not too close—there was no rushing such things.

  This was the difficult part. He knew her song. He knew what she really wanted and was really suited for. But he hoped to show her a different way. It was all up and the air, and he could only let her decide. He hoped she wouldn’t leave. It was growing difficult to imagine life without her. If she wasn’t there, the emptiness in his heart would grow. He remembered the pleasant times even now. The times they’d almost forgotten over the years.

  “I don’t know,” Mi Fei whispered.

  “It’s a simple question,” Wei Longshen said. “I won’t fault you either way. Love is a choice, Mi Fei, and it’s a choice I’ve made. Regardless of your decision. If you’re willing to have me, I’d be overjoyed. And if you aren’t—I admit that I’ll be sad. Devastated, even. It might take me years to recover. But such is life. I’d rather suffer a thousand sorrows than make you stay if you don’t want to.”

  Mi Fei sniffed and rubbed her nose. She was crying now, and Wei Longshen couldn’t help but shed a tear of his own. “I just don’t know,” she said.

  “Perhaps it will help if I play something for you,” Wei Longshen said, taking out his flute. He ran his fingers along its smooth and polished surface. “I made it up myself. I traveled across the outer sea to find the notes for it, and while it’s far from perfect, I hope you’ll be able to understand how I feel about you. And after that, if you’re still uncertain, it would be best to part ways, I think. I’ll show you my heart so there is no confusion.”

  She sniffed again, and he closed his eyes. He put his flute to his mouth, and he began to play. It was a song so pure he could never forget it. A song of young love strengthened by trials and tribulations. A song he poured his heart into. The first song he’d ever created.

  The song was pure. It awakened something inside him. When he heard it, Cha Ming couldn’t help but feel something stir deep with him. The dull embers in his heart stirred as he remembered a familiar feeling. Love. Passion. Laced with sadness.

  Yu Wen, he thought, and he began to weep. The song made him remember. It was not his song, or hers, but a song so sincere he understood it.

  It cut into his heart. He didn’t want to hear it. Yet he couldn’t help but pause and take it in. I was a song from one lover to another. A whisper into her soul that he couldn’t help but hear. And when he heard it, he felt her answer. It was a small voice that carried in t
he wind. He saw her crying and hugging Wei Longshen from a distance, across the walls, where he waited.

  “I think I’ll go back to my residence for now,” Cha Ming told the handmaid. “No need to inform her. I’ll come back another time. Perhaps with a congratulatory gift.” He walked away, his heart heavy with regret. He hadn’t excepted anything of Mi Fei—she wasn’t Yu Wen, and he knew that. There wasn’t the same spark they’d had when they’d first met so many years ago.

  So that’s it? Sun Wukong said, appearing beside him. He was invisible to everyone in the manor. He passed through those walking in the streets as they left the front gates of the Mi Clan estate. I can’t believe you’re giving up just like that.

  She’s not Yu Wen, Teacher, Cha Ming said wistfully. She is Mi Fei. Her soul might be the same, and that love might burn somewhere inside her, but she isn’t aware of it.

  But you love her, Sun Wukong said.

  I could never stop, Cha Ming confessed. Yet in this lifetime, it seems we were not meant to be together. And if that’s the case, I will wait. I will wait until her next life. Then I will find her again and try once more. And if I fail, I’ll try again. And again if need be. Love is about wanting the best for someone, yes, but it’s also a choice. It’s an eternal one that transcends lifetimes. It lasts forever. It is unending.

  And with that thought came a spark of hope. It lit up the darkness deep within his soul. Yes, perhaps one day he could find her again, and they would have another chance at being together. With that thought, a shackle broke inside him. Something that had been holding him back. His soul transformed as per the Thirty-Six Heavenly Transformations technique, and a seventeenth point of light lit up in his spiritual sea.

  With this transformation, his soul expanded. He stepped into the Middle Transcendent Soul Realm. The realm equivalent to rune-gathering cultivators, though few of them reached this realm in soul cultivation. The change was accompanied by an expansion in soul sense.

  The entire city lit up for him. He could feel every soul in its permeable membrane, and many things that had been hidden from him until now appeared in plain sight. His ability to read cultivation levels increased drastically. So, too, did his ability to read truth and comprehend concepts. He was sure there were many more benefits that he would discover with experimentation.

  Wait, seriously? He gasped when he saw that he’d sprouted a second pair of white wings. His wings of hope had doubled, and though he felt no immediate change, he realized his trump card had become that much more valuable. Two levels of cultivation?

  One and a half, plus a half step passive, Sun Wukong said. You didn’t think soul cultivation was useless, did you?

  No, Cha Ming said. I just thought it wouldn’t be so earth-shattering. It’s a hell of card to keep in hand.

  If only you didn’t have to fight rune-gathering cultivators, Sun Wukong said. Honestly, at that level, they’re all monsters. You need to realize that half of them have been in the Guard at some point, and many of them have a lot of abilities hidden up their sleeves.

  Along with hundreds of years of hoarding, Cha Ming said.

  Yeah, that too, Sun Wukong said. So yes, it’s not looking as terrible, but it’s still pretty bad. You’re a suicidal but strangely adorable maniac.

  Well, I have some ideas on how to make strides, Cha Ming said. Phoenix blood is now an option, and besides, I realized something. He summoned the green jade he’d been studying. He poured his soul into it, and in an instant, it turned to dust. Ten Thousand Blossoms of Surging Strength, late grade, mastered.

  About time, Sun Wukong said. What gave it away?

  I realized it during the trial, Cha Ming said. The rakshasa can pack up karma to form a disguise that looks the same as the original, but in the end, they can make mistakes. If they’re not telling the same story, their disguise is flawed. That’s what the Star-Eye Ancestor was trying to tell me. That was her real lesson. She wanted to teach me about stories.

  Concepts, he continued. Cultivation. Talismans. It’s all about the story you tell. Given a thousand pieces, you can write ten thousand stories. Some might even be good, but many would be better. It all depends on the situation and the intent. The story you want to tell others. The story you want to tell yourself.

  Attaboy, Sun Wukong said.

  I think that I need to start painting talismans again, Cha Ming continued. Not with Words of Creation. Actually paint them. I was focusing on creating items whole, and I thought I was seeing everything. But my perspective was too wide. I wasn’t focusing on the right things. If I’d learned them all and painted them all properly in the first place, I would have realized it sooner. But I cheated, so I paid the price.

  Urgh. So we’re already back to cultivating? Sun Wukong asked.

  Not tonight, Cha Ming said. Tonight, we have a team party. He said the words lightly, but in his heart, he was still thinking about the one who wouldn’t be attending. But that was a problem for another day. Possibly the rest of his life. He needed to move forward and forget about her. For now.

  It was late, and life felt good. Not perfect—never perfect. She’d gone on a walk wanting to end things, and somehow, she’d gotten sucked back into it all. She and Wei Longshen were now an item again. Kind of. There was much good that came along with the relationship, though there was a fair share of bad.

  There’ll be problems, she thought. But there were always problems. She’d have to keep dealing with her family, and in-laws would come up, she was sure. But now that they had a direction, all of it was much more manageable. In a sense, it was liberating. She was more restrained, but she felt freer than ever. Just like with techniques and cultivation.

  “Xiao Bai is going to kill me,” Mi Fei muttered as she entered her living room. She flicked her fingers to turn on the lights. She yelped when they revealed a dark figure sitting in a chair. The figure rose and stepped over to her. “Don’t do that!”

  “Stop me,” said the figure. It was none other than Dao Lord Blackwater. She’d come to expect his surprise appearances. “I have come once again. As promised.”

  “Why do you even bother?” Mi Fei asked. She walked over to the chair and plunked herself down on it. The fire lit up beside her—with real wood that she created. The flames were artificial, but the burning wood made them real eventually.

  “I bother because you continue to show potential,” Dao Lord Blackwater said, eyeing the burning wood. “I have come, and I will ask again.”

  “Save it,” Mi Fei said.

  “I will ask, and you will either accept or refuse,” Dao Lord Blackwater said. “You are in no position to disobey. Here is my question. You have seen things. Horrible things not of this world. They infest your cities and want nothing more than to destroy you and everything else that lives in this miserable plane. It is them I fight. It is against them that I require your aid. I am willing to train, nurture, and protect you. To the point that I have been shielding you from inconveniences for quite some time.”

  Mi Fei’s eyes narrowed. “Are you threatening me?”

  “Only stating facts,” Dao Lord Blackwater said. “Should you accept my invitation and become my disciple, we will begin your training immediately. You need not leave this city right away, but you will have to travel. You will have the luxury of seeing many things. In addition, the shielding that I mentioned will continue. You need not worry about interference from certain forces if we become allies. So what say you? Do you accept?”

  “I refuse,” Mi Fei said. She said it with more conviction than last time. She’d thought enough about her future and didn’t want to see others meddling in it. It was as simple as that.

  “I see,” said Dao Lord Blackwater. “Very well.” To her surprise, he simply sighed and got up. “You have refused me thrice. Do not regret your decision.”

  She blinked, and before she knew it, he was gone. He’d vanished without her noticing.

  Is that old man bothering you again? Xiao Bai asked. And what’s this about ca
lling things on again? Why the heck didn’t you tell me?

  Blackwater is gone, Mi Fei said. We’ll talk about it when you get back. As for staying with him, it was a decision I made on my own. Will you forgive me?

  Fine, Xiao Bai said. But I’m not putting up with bad catering. That’s not going to fly with me. I will personally vet your chefs, and if I need to whip them to deliver acceptable quality, so be it.

  We’re getting married now, Mi Fei said. Not yet. But that would be the next logical step.

  She lay in her bed, thinking about the future. It was more certain than ever, and that took a weight off her shoulders. For the first time in a long time, she felt free.

  And yet… she could not help but feel a certain foreboding. A dark presence sneaking up on her. It was in the corner of her eye, always there but never seen. It wasn’t something physical. It wasn’t in this room, yet it had been there since the beginning. And for the first time, she actually felt it.

  I’ll think about it tomorrow, she thought. She closed her eyes and wrapped herself in blankets. She could worry about everything else tomorrow. She fell asleep thinking of angels and devils, a cackling madman who would stop at nothing to have her, and the curse of her existence. The journey. The fear. The chase.

  It was night when Silver Fish returned to the Burning Lake, the inky-black pool that looked nothing like its namesake. He swam through its depths and surfaced near an island where his teacher had made his temporary home.

  Silver Fish pushed open the door to the small log cabin. It was the type of place you might expect near the demon lands where trees were plentiful. There were no trees on this island, but somehow, he had found it. He pushed open the door and discovered no sign of his teacher. His things were gone. His closets were empty. His shelves were cleared of books. In fact, most of the furniture was gone, and only a table, a chair, and bed remained.