by Jeremy Bai
The woman looked back at him with a cool expression. “I have to admit that your choice of names was clever. Arrogant, but clever.”
There’s no point in trying to keep up the facade, he thought. Reaching down slowly, he pulled a fan out of his belt and began to slowly cool himself. “So, you brushed up on your Classical Fei, I see.”
“Yes. I should have thought earlier about how ‘An Jian’ is Classical Fei for ‘Hidden Arrow.’ Your face is different, but your voice is the same. I can only imagine what lengths the Demon Emperor of the future went to in order to send you back here.”
“And I can only imagine what it’s been like to hide in the shadows like you have for the past… how long has it been for you? Twenty years. Thirty?”
“I’m happy to pay the price. The Demon Emperor will not be allowed to succeed. I will guide Bao and Sunan to fulfilling their destiny.”
An Jian stopped fanning himself. “You’re trying to change the stream of time, girl. Bao and Sunan’s fates have already been set. You’re actually interfering with their destiny. Back when we first met, things were… rushed. May I ask for your honored surname?”
“Just call me Hui.”
Fanning himself again, An Jian took a step forward. “I have a question for you, Miss Hui. Are you a murderer?”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s a simple question. Here we are in the middle of nowhere, two enemies whose differences couldn’t ever possibly be reconciled. Are you going to simply cut me down in cold blood? That’s called murder. Is that what the Dragon-Phoenix Sect has become? A bunch of murderers?”
Hui chuckled coldly, slowly reaching her right hand over to grip the hilt of her sword. “You are a profound master, Hidden Arrow, not a helpless baby.”
An Jian shook his head slowly. “Come now, Hui. I know that you can sense the truth. I have no martial arts abilities. My martial arts are gone, and I’ll never get them back. That was the price to be paid for my journey back in time. I am like any other frail mortal. After all the years that have passed, you have surely become a profound master yourself, so you should be able to sense it with ease. I couldn’t fight you even if I wanted to, and you could kill me as easily as turning over your hand.”
He took another step forward.
Hui’s eyes flashed with a dark light. “Stop right there.”
“Or what?” An Jian said, smiling coldly. “You’ll murder me? I’m no martial artist any more, just a maker of fans.”
“You’re one of the greatest villains in the world. Probably second only to the Demon Emperor himself. Killing you wouldn’t be murder. It would be carrying out a death sentence that was issued upon you by all righteous sects of the martial world.”
An Jian stepped forward again. “We aren’t in that world, Hui. We’re in a different world, and a different time. I’m not the profound master, you are. Think about it. You might well be the most powerful martial artist alive. Why don’t we work together? You know the truth! The Demon Emperor isn’t what the stories make him out to be. With our knowledge, we could steer him in a new direction. Maybe Sunan and Bao don’t need to be his enemy. Maybe—”
Without warning, An Jian swept his fan through the air, pushing his thumb down onto a tiny button at the base of the fan. A faint whirring sound could be heard, and then a blast of needles shot out of the top of the fan.
The three steps he had just taken had halved the distance between himself and Hui, putting him only about three meters away from her, the perfect range for such an attack. The needles screamed through the air, spiraling out to form a deadly net.
However, An Jian’s suppositions had been correct. Hui was now a profound master, and she had spent decades focused on almost nothing but training.
“Deflecting Canopy!” she barked, spinning her sword out in front of her.
One after another, the needles were deflected, with the majority of them flying back toward An Jian.
He grunted with pain as he felt himself being stabbed in the shoulder, the thigh, the forearm, and other places.
In the blink of an eye, the fight was over.
An Jian lay prone, staring up into the sky. The needles in his fan had been coated with hellebore, one of the most lethal poisons to ever be devised by men. He could already feel his throat swelling up and his heart twitching with pain.
Hand trembling, he reached into his robe to where a small vial rested, which was the antidote. He managed to pull the antidote out, but before he could unstop the cork, Hui loomed over him, the blade of her sword pushing against his wrist, preventing him from opening the vial.
This can’t be it. I can’t die here. Not like this.
“A liar and a manipulator down to your last breath,” Hui said. “I guess that’s what I should expect from the infamous Hidden Arrow.”
An Jian’s mind raced. “I know how to get back to the future,” he said.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Let me take the antidote. Then tie me up. I promise, there is a path home.”
Hui smiled sadly. “Even if there is, I don’t want to walk it. I’ve made peace with myself. I will live out my days in this time. I will make sure Bao and Sunan fulfill their destiny.” Oh so slowly, she reached down and took the vial out of An Jian’s hand. “And I will also see the world rid of one of the vilest evildoers to ever walk its lands.”
Hui dropped the vial on the ground and stepped on it with her heel, crushing it.
An Jian looked up at the clouds.
So this is how it ends.
***
Sunan paced back and forth in front of the cave entrance as he waited for the approaching group to arrive. Scouts had brought word that, at long last, Sun Mai and Mao Yun had returned. Sunan almost couldn’t suppress the urge to run out and meet them.
Sun Mai was in the lead, riding next to Wang Tian. Behind him were Mao Yun and a grim-looking fellow wearing scholarly robes similar to the type Sun Mai favored. Further back was a man with one leg and a crutch slung over his shoulder.
Sun Mai was smiling broadly, but as he got closer and saw the worry on Sunan’s face, his smile began to fade.
The group stopped a few paces away from Sunan, where Sun Mai said, “Greetings, Brother Sunan. Allow me to introduce Du Qian, scholar and former court official.”
Sunan’s jaw was clenched a bit tighter than normal as he clasped his hands formally. “Greetings, Master Du.”
“Greetings, Sect Leader.”
Sun Mai, never one to beat around the bush, said, “What happened?”
“It’s Bao,” Sunan replied. “She was poisoned.”
“What?” Mao Yun exclaimed, leaping off his horse. “Has she been treated?”
Sunan shook his head. “No treatments seem to have any effect.”
Sun Mai dismounted, as did the rest of the group. “What type of poison?”
Sunan shook his head. “We don’t know. According to the men who were with her, she was cut by the knife of a Bone Slicer. The wound turned black, and her veins are going dark.”
“Vosh sap,” Du Qian said.
Sunan looked over at him. “What’s that?”
Du Qian stepped forward. He had hard eyes, and his eyebrows tilted up in a menacing fashion. His thin lips seemed to be constantly pursed, and he walked with his back as straight as a board. “The poison that Bone Slicers use for assassinations. It’s vosh sap.” With that, he reached into his robe and pulled out a vial. “This is the antidote.”
Sunan’s eyes narrowed. “You just so happened to have the antidote to the Bone Slicers’ poison, tucked away in your robe, in the exact moment in which one of our people was poisoned?”
“Sunan,” Sun Mai said, “Du Qian used to be an official in the Demon Emperor’s court. He has access to many secrets and many resources.”
Sunan’s heart began to thump in his chest. “You trust him?” he asked of Sun Mai. Sun Mai nodded.
Du Qian looked Sunan in the eye. “Truth be told, Sect Le
ader, the wise choice would be to distrust me. But if Heroine Bao has been poisoned by vosh sap, then she is in mortal danger. How long ago did it happen?”
“Three days.”
“There’s still time. Vosh sap comes from… a different realm, and it works more slowly here than in the land of its origin.”
“A different realm?” Sunan frowned slightly. “You mean the Perfect Realm?”
Sun Mai guffawed. “Come on, Sunan, you know that the Perfect Realm isn’t real.”
Du Qian looked over at Sun Mai. “This again?”
Sun Mai’s eyes flashed. “Didn’t we agree not to get into this argument again, Du Qian?”
After a moment, Du Qian nodded. Looking back at Sunan, he said, “I’m not referring to the Perfect Realm. Nor the Imperfect Realm, nor the Lower Realms. The Demon Emperor and his ogre generals come from another place entirely, and that is also where the vosh sap poison comes from.
“As part of my plan to escape from the court, I procured a few vials of this antidote, just in case the Bone Slicers came after me. Which they did. Luckily for me, I fled to a place where even they didn’t dare to enter.
“However, that’s a story for another time. If Heroine Bao was poisoned three days ago, then we need to administer the antidote immediately.”
He held the vial out toward Sunan.
Chapter 57: The Shan
Bao woke to find a strange man staring deep into her eyes. It was a bizarre moment. Although she didn’t know him, she didn’t feel threatened or fearful. A moment later, she realized that he was feeling for her pulse at her wrist. Then he blinked and retracted his gaze, pulling his hand away before stepping back from her.
“She’ll be fine,” he said to someone behind him.
Bao turned her head slightly and caught sight of Sunan, Sun Mai, and Mao Yun.
Sunan stepped around the man to stand bedside. “How do you feel?”
Bao took a moment to decide how to answer the question. “Weak.”
Sunan nodded. “Allow me to introduce Master Du Qian. It was his antidote that saved you. That poison was very nasty.”
Du Qian clasped his hands formally. “Greetings, Heroine Bao.”
“Greetings, Master Du Qian.”
“You drew cathartically on your qi, Heroine. It almost damaged your soul.”
Bao tried to sit up in the bed but failed. “My soul? How can you tell that?”
“I’ve been studying the way that qi flows through the body, and I’ve come to realize that every person has five souls inside of them. From what Sun Mai has told me of this cathartic method of drawing on qi, it has the potential to damage or even destroy those souls. Please be careful in the future. I’ll take my leave now. Please let me know if there’s any other way I can be of help.” He looked Bao in the eyes once more as he turned to leave.
Something about the way he looked at her pierced all the way into her heart, although she wasn’t sure exactly why or how that could be. Then he was gone.
“How long have I been asleep this time?”
“This time?” Sunan asked.
She smiled weakly. “I once went unconscious for a few months straight.”
“You were only out for three days.”
Bao’s thoughts drifted back to the events which had led to her recent state. “What happened to Chang Peng and the others?”
“They’re all fine. It was Chang Peng who brought you back.”
She thought for another moment. “Tie Gangwen?”
“He’s alive and recovering.”
“Did I miss anything else important?”
“We’ve decided to move the camp. Sun Mai and Mao Yun are back, as you can see. Plus, your encounter with the Bone General’s men confirms our suspicion that the Demon Emperor is watching us. Once you’ve recovered, we’ll make preparations to leave.”
“I’m recovered,” she said, struggling again to rise to a sitting position. Unfortunately, she only got up onto her elbows before falling back down.
“Rest, Bao. There are no armies marching on us. We can afford to wait a bit longer.”
***
Bao recovered much more slowly than she would have liked. It took four days before she was able to even sit up for any length of time. For her, those four days were like an eternity. For everyone else, they sped by.
In accord with decrees passed down by the leaders of both sects, training intensified. More rigorous forms of sparring were introduced, and while there were more injuries, the fighters in both sects made even greater progress. Alchemist Yang and the other doctors were busier than ever, and even Smiling Luo provided help with some newly invented techniques that drew upon magic to be a bit more effective.
Thanks to the intensive investigations into the backgrounds of all members of the sects, two spies were identified. Upon the advice of Li Runfa, though, nothing was done about them.
“As soon as you know who the spies are,” he said, “they start working for you.”
Tie Gangwen had awoken from his coma. He would live, but the loss of his arm was a heavy blow to his psyche.
One of the most important events to occur during Bao’s short convalescence was that Sunan had a meeting with Ruan the Flamingo.
The rooms which had been Ruan’s quarters had been left untouched after the caves were occupied by the two sects, and that was the location of the meeting.
Sunan and Ruan were the only ones present. Currently, they sat together at a table, atop which sat a solitary box.
Ruan eyed the box. “A wind stone, you say?”
“That’s what we’ve been calling it. Bao said that you have experience working with things like this.”
“That’s true. I’ve never seen a rock that makes wind, but I’ve seen other powerful objects like it. Most of them fell from the heavens above.”
“From the Upper Realms?”
“If that’s what you call them, then yes.” Ruan reached out and pulled the box closer to examine it in detail.
“Don’t open it,” Sunan warned again.
Ruan nodded. After examining the box physically, he produced various tools of his trade, which he used to perform measurements and other readings. The entire process lasted for ten minutes.
When it was over, Ruan sat there quietly for a moment. “I need to perform a ritual,” he said. “It will take some time to prepare. Stay if you wish.”
With that, he began to prepare paper talismans, which he used to seal all of the entrances to his chambers. Then he set to work inscribing a large circular sheet of paper with numerous complex designs and magical symbols. In the very middle of the piece of paper was a blank area the size of the box. Having accomplished these tasks, Ruan lit several sticks of incense.
Then he slowly placed the box down on the blank spot on the large piece of paper.
“You’re going to open it?” Sunan asked.
“Yes. Don’t worry, the ritual will keep us safe.”
Sunan swallowed and looked around for something to hold on to. Unfortunately, nothing sturdy was nearby.
Before he could say anything, Ruan slowly opened the lid of the box. Visible streams of wind exploded out from the rock, and yet they were contained in a sphere roughly the same diameter as the piece of paper under the box. The wind streams lashed back and forth violently, but they were powerless to escape the barrier which had been erected.
Ruan went on to make further investigations into the rock and the wind.
Upon finishing, he used his crutch to reach in and close the lid of the box. The wind died down immediately.
“Very interesting,” he said. He rubbed his chin with his thumb for a while, then looked over at Sunan. “I have an idea of how to work the wind stone into an object of power.”
“An idea?”
“I won’t get into the boring magical aspects. Suffice to say that the power in this stone is something that requires special tools to work with. Tools that I don’t have.”
“And who has such tool
s?”
“Wait here a moment.” Ruan hopped over to a nearby shelf, which contained a sizeable collection of books and scrolls. After picking through them, he pulled out a large leather-bound book, which he carried back and plopped down on the table next to the box. “Have you heard of this?”
Sunan looked at the book. Inscribed on the cover in bold calligraphy were the words “Classic of Mountains and Rivers.”
“Yes,” he said. “There was a copy in the village where I grew up. I read most of it as a child.”
Ruan raised his eyebrow. “You actually read the Classic of Mountains and Rivers?”
Sunan smiled wryly. “Well, I was mostly interested in the pictures.”
Ruan chuckled. “That makes sense. Although the title implies that it’s a geography, it’s even more well known as being a bestiary, and the illustrations are definitely eye-catching.” He opened the book and began to leaf through the pages. “As you probably know, according to the legends, it was more than ten thousand years ago that Xian Nu Shen created Qi Xien on top of Mount Zhizhu. In the early days, the lands did not look as they do now. They were filled with five thousand mountains and five thousand rivers, which were arranged into eastern, southern, western, northern, and central regions.
“The part of the world we live in now was once the Eastern Mountain and River Region. One of the ancient tribes that lived in that region was called the Shan.”
“The Shan?” Sunan thought for a moment. “In Classical Fei, Shan means—”
“No. It’s not Classical Fei. Their name comes from a language much older than that.”
“I thought Classical Fei was the oldest language in the world.”
Ruan looked up from the book. “That’s what people who don’t know much about the world think.” He looked back down and continued leafing through the book. “The Shan were a people who were supposedly born of the wind and worshipped it as their god.
“Gushan?”
“Gushan is the wind god, yes, so perhaps the Shan are connected to him. I’m not sure.” At this point, he found the page he was looking for. “Here.”
After reaching a certain page in the book, he flipped it around for Sunan to look at. The Classic of Mountains and Rivers was essentially a bestiary of the ancient world and somewhat of an almanac. This entry was devoted to a tribe of creatures called the Shan. Sunan recognized the picture, which he had seen when looking through the book as a child. It depicted a strange creature with no head. Its facial features were part of its torso, and it wielded an axe and a shield.