Cha Ming was tempted. The pile of unaligned high-grade and top-grade formation flags would be extremely useful in these difficult times. Ultimately, he pushed them back toward her. “This is far too large a gift.”
She pushed them back. “I’ve investigated your purchases and your dealings with Mo Tianshen. I estimate your losses at roughly 20,000 high-grade spirit stones. The number is hardly exact, but I believe that compensating your losses is the best way of settling the karma between us.”
Cha Ming looked long and hard at the pile before drawing it into the Clear Sky World.
“Fine. We owe each other nothing now, but I’m hoping that you’ll do me a small favor,” Cha Ming said. “The branch leader of the Talisman Artist Guild would like to negotiate a nonexclusive supply agreement with the Jade Bamboo Conglomerate in Quicksilver. I’m hoping you’ll treat them fairly.”
“I don’t mind being owed a favor,” Wang Bing said. “It’s your karma, not mine.”
Cha Ming shook his head. “I still don’t understand anything about karma. Is it really such a big deal?”
“More than you know,” Wang Bing said. “Second Young Master Jun would be the best person to explain it you. Will you be requiring anything else?”
“Yes, I’d like your help in completing a large transaction,” Cha Ming said, dumping a sack on the table. It contained 800,000 high-grade spirit stones, the remainder of his half of the profits from ripping off the arena. “I need this converted to as many generic pills, weapons, and talismans you can get your hands on. Mortal, magic, and core-grade treasures are all acceptable.”
“Aren’t you a big spender,” Wang Bing said. “It seems I’m the one who owes you a favor.”
“Not at all,” Cha Ming said. “It’s just business.”
A tea time later, Cha Ming walked out of the Jade Bamboo Auction House with a significantly lighter purse. “See, I told you she wouldn’t cause any problems,” he said to the empty air.
A small figured jumped out from his shadow and onto his shoulder. Huxian licked Cha Ming’s ear as the latter scratched his small head. “It’s better to be safe than sorry,” Huxian said.
Cha Ming smiled. “Thanks for worrying about me. By the way, is Silverwing up for flying again soon?”
“Where are we headed?” Huxian asked.
“A small town not far from here called Crystal Falls,” Cha Ming replied.
The sun was rising in in the small mist-covered village. A reddish-orange glow refracted through thin clouds as they landed nearby. The farmers had just risen with the dawn, and they were feeding and watering their oxen in preparation for a hard day’s work while their children fed the chickens and their wives prepared breakfast.
Cha Ming hopped off Silverwing’s back and walked toward the village. He took his time as he walked down the well-built path in the woods. Soon he passed a small guard shack where an elderly man was napping.
“Cha Ming, Cha Ming!” a couple of children yelled and grabbed on to him as soon as he reached the main street.
“Xiao Bao, Mei Guo, you’ve grown up,” he said as he ruffled their hair. “How are your parents?”
“Tired but happy,” Xiao Bao said. “We need to run, or we’ll be late for school!” The two children rushed off and joined their friends, who were filing toward a small building. A young woman he didn’t recognize herded them in and began teaching them to read. Such a thing hadn’t existed back when the village remained in isolation.
Cha Ming soon found Li Yin’s office. He smiled as he opened the door but was surprised to discover a middle-aged man seated at a desk, waiting for his first patient. A spirit-doctor emblem was pinned to his chest.
“Can I help you?” the man asked.
“Where is Dr. Li?” Cha Ming asked. The office looked nothing like the unorganized mess it usually was. There were no bandages or splint materials. Now it only contained an examination bench and a shelf full of herbs and beakers.
“Ah, you’re looking for Elder Li,” the middle-aged man said. “My name is Yong Bai. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He held his hand out in a peculiar fashion. Cha Ming shook it awkwardly.
“Does the doctor still live here?” Cha Ming asked.
“Of course, he does,” Yong Bai said. “I just help him take care of patients while he conducts his research. It’s fascinating that he’s managed to accomplish so much without being an actual doctor.”
Cha Ming supressed a fit of anger. “I take it this door leads to his house just like before?”
“Of course,” Yong Bai said. He opened the door before yelling out, “Elder Li, you have a visitor.” Hearing no response, he waved Cha Ming inside. “Just wander down the hall to his study. He often doesn’t hear me when I holler.”
Cha Ming walked into a newly built dining room, which resembled Li Yin’s old accommodations. The hall contained new pictures; he passed these and lightly pushed open the door to the old man’s study.
He sighed in relief when he saw Li Yin sleeping on his desk, as he usually did after a night’s hard work.
The kitchen was different than Cha Ming remembered. For one, it contained more cooking equipment than it used to. For another, he noticed a lot more vegetables on the man’s shelves. Cha Ming lit a fire before thinly slicing potatoes into tiny sticks. He washed them with water to remove the starch. After this, he heated a wok and added oil, peppers, and leeks to the pan, letting their fragrance seep into the oil. Then he threw in the thin potato sticks and stir-fried them until they became slightly translucent. He added salt and vinegar before throwing the dish onto a plate and moving on to the next one.
This time, Cha Ming cut tomatoes into chunks and heated them over a low fire. He cooked them until they broke down before throwing in small pieces of cauliflower. He finished this simple dish off with salt and pepper. Then, after washing the wok, he threw in some leftover rice and water, stirring until it formed a thick rice congee.
“Miss Xiao, why does the food smell different today?” Li Yin called suddenly from the dining room.
Cha Ming chuckled and brought a tray of dishes out to the dining table to the shocked Li Yin. He set a place for himself and the old doctor while Li Yin rubbed his eyes in disbelief. “Is it really you, my boy?”
“What, I can’t visit my teacher?” Cha Ming asked.
The older man smiled and helped himself to the dishes. “You’re always welcome to visit this old man. What brings you in today?”
Cha Ming looked toward the door to the doctor’s office. “This Yong Bai doesn’t bully you, does he?”
“Heavens, no,” Li Yin said. “I ran into him a month ago. He was a middle-aged man with minor achievements as a spirit doctor. Since he’d reached a dead-end in his career, he was looking to settle down somewhere peaceful with his family. I invited him to stay in the village. He’s been treating people here ever since, and they’ve never been healthier.”
“But what about your medical practice?” Cha Ming asked.
The man had made phenomenal breakthroughs in mortal medicine. The thought of him being displaced by a lesser man boiled Cha Ming’s blood.
“My boy, I’ve always known that my greatest contribution to medicine is my research,” Li Yin said. “Through that, I can forge a better path for mortal doctors and improve the well-being of millions of people. If this man is more capable than me at treating the people, shouldn’t I let him do it?”
At these words, Cha Ming calmed down. They ate in silence, and Cha Ming quickly washed the dishes as Li Yin brewed a terrible blend of tea. Cha Ming drank it like it was the best in the world, for the person you drank with mattered far more than the contents of the cup.
“I need your help with something, Teacher,” Cha Ming said as they drank.
“You always need my help with something,” Li Yin said. “What silly thing is it this time? Did you stub your toe and lose your will to live?”
“I returned to my home in the Song Kingdom,” Cha Ming said slowly. “Things
are less than peaceful, and the king has fallen ill. The country is on the brink of civil war.”
“Ah,” Li Yin said. “Well, I can’t help you much in the field of politics. I’ve always avoided aristocrats like the plague.”
“I need your help with the king’s illness,” Cha Ming said. “I’ve discovered that he’s been poisoned with the venom of a qi-binding serpent. Any qi used to treat him breaks down upon entering his body. Spirit-doctor methods are useless to him.”
Li Yin frowned. “What are his symptoms, and at what point does the qi break down?” The focused look of a researcher returned to his eyes.
“Slow organ failure,” Cha Ming said. “Blood poisoning, faint heartbeat, lack of blood coagulation. The brain is fine, but the king is unconscious. His qi pathways are dry, and his core-formation cultivation is restricted but not destroyed. As soon as healing qi symbols contact his organs, they deteriorate. The venom has permeated every bit of his flesh.”
Li Yin shook his head. “I might be all right at preliminary medicine, but I know nothing about poisons. This is a job for an alchemist, not an old man like me.”
“The venom is being analyzed by the best poison master in Quicksilver,” Cha Ming said. “We’re just trying to keep him alive for as long as possible. Can you at least help with that?”
“It’s difficult,” Li Yin said, “but I can try. However, I doubt that the spirit doctors there will let me anywhere near him. They disdain people like me, and their words carry much weight.”
“I can help you take care of that,” Cha Ming said. “Can you help me? There are many lives on the line, and things will get bad very fast if the king dies.”
Li Yin sighed. “I can try. Truth be told, I’ve always wanted to try my hand at treating a king. Let’s see if he’s any different than the rest of us.”
Chapter 13: Surprise
Hundreds of raucous voices filled the shop, inundating Wang Jun’s extraordinary senses with a plethora of information. The torrent of data didn’t faze him. He analyzed as he received it, throwing out the insignificant details before storing the rest for future use.
Guards inspected jade permission slips as customers filed into the store in an orderly line. The limit of one weapon per customer, while infuriating, was a necessary precaution in dealing with forgeries. Guards were only so effective in such a heated market, and fake permission slips were found every quarter hour. It was foolish to think that they’d caught them all.
“What’s this?” a man said at the front desk. “Not only did I need the permission slip, but I need to swear an oath not to sell it? What kind of scam is this?”
“You don’t need to buy it if you aren’t interested,” a woman said coldly. She’d seen far too many of these customers today; her answer hadn’t deviated in the slightest. Ultimately, the man chose to swear the oath and buy a grade-eight sword.
“We’re doing so much, but it’s only a matter of time before they find a way to make these weapons change hands,” Wang Jun muttered. His eyes suddenly darted to an inconspicuous man standing in line. He looked closely as the man’s jade slip, which was inspected before he was allowed into the shop.
“Everyone stop,” Wang Jun said in a commanding tone.
The customers, the attendants, and the guards all paused what they were doing. The young master of the Wang family walked up to the newly admitted customer. “How daring. You forged a jade slip issued by my Wang family. Did you not think about the consequences of your actions before walking through that door? I don’t even need to see the jade slip to verify it.”
He took out a thin jade card from within his robes and poured his core-formation qi into it. It resonated with the authentic jade slips in the room—the man’s slip was not one of them.
“Zhao Lishou, subordinate of the Tou family,” Wang Jun continued. “I can read you like a book. You came in with this forgery at the command of the Tou family, thinking that at worst, you’d be caught and kicked out of the store. Well, I’m afraid it isn’t that simple.”
“What could you possibly do to me?” the man said, scoffing. “There are laws in this country. You can’t hurt a hair on my head.”
“Oh, I won’t do anything to you,” Wang Jun said. “You’re just a grunt, and you’ll surely be punished when you return to the Tou family. They won’t be pleased to hear that from now on, the Tou family and its subordinates will forever be barred from doing business with the Jade Bamboo Conglomerate and its affiliates.” The man paled and dropped the jade slip, which shattered on the wooden floor. “Guards, please see this man out. He isn’t welcome here.”
In the distance, Wang Jun saw a fifth of the people in line scramble off to nearby alleys.
“Killing the chicken to warn the monkey, I see,” a man said from behind Wang Jun. To his surprise, it was Hei Ling, his employee with the black-market connection. The man had breached his personal bubble and appeared a single foot away from him. At this range, assassinating him would be a simple matter.
“You really ought to keep your awareness up at all times,” Hei Ling said. “Others might not be as friendly as me. If I were an assassin, wouldn’t you already be dead?”
“Shouldn’t you be out performing your duties?” Wang Jun asked.
The man smiled and took one more step forward. He clasped Wang Jun’s hand and passed him a piece of paper.
It’s done, the man said mentally. Make sure to show up at this address, alone and with no subordinates. The Black King sets the rules in this city’s underground, and he hates it when people break them. Hei Ling then left as though nothing had happened, leaving Wang Jun shivering from the close call.
Elder Bai, didn’t I ask for Hei Ling to be tailed? Wang Jun sent.
The one who was dealing with the black market? Elder Bai sent back.
Exactly, Wang Jun replied. I don’t appreciate it when a man we should be keeping tabs on catches me unaware and makes physical contact with me.
Are you all right? Elder Bai asked.
I’m fine, Wang Jun said. But I need to go out on an excursion for the next two hours. Don’t contact me during that period of time, regardless of what happens.
Aren’t you taking Protector Ren? Elder Bai asked.
No need, Wang Jun said. I can take care of this myself.
He walked out from back door and blended into the shadows. The landscape changed to a patchwork of locations in the city, where he could walk at his leisure. Here and there, harmless denizens of the shadows roamed out in the open—only people like him could see their splendor.
In a nearby alley, a resplendent white rat walked out. It was the size of a dog, but it was quickly snatched up by the fleeting figure of a crow half its size. The bright shades merged together into a slightly larger crow. It flapped its wings and plunged into a piece of landscape, disappearing forever. Such a scene wasn’t unusual in the world of shadows, where imaginary creatures were birthed every few moments.
Wang Jun glanced at the piece of paper in his palm, where he saw an address and instructions. The paper burned as soon as he read it. He willed himself toward a shade of darkness near the location and popped back to reality. His protective wreath of shadows blended in with the black alley near an inconspicuous door. He knocked three times.
“It is a fine day for a parade. What shall we wear?” a voice asked.
“I don’t know about you, but I will wear the garb of a king,” Wang Jun answered. He heard a door bolt unlatch, and a formation sizzled as it was deactivated. A man in a black cloak welcomed him inside and led him down a spiraling staircase. Wang Jun noted when they passed the elevation of the sewers and entered uncharted territory he didn’t know existed. After a quarter hour of walking and several narrow corridors, they arrived in a simple room containing a desk and a man in a black cloak with a deep cowl. A wreath of shadows covered the mysterious man. He also noticed the shimmer of a dampening device, which would protect them from eavesdropping.
“Second Young Master Wang.
How may I be of service today?” the man asked.
“Black King, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” Wang Jun said. “I have some goods I’d like to sell. The price cap on mortal-grade weapons has left me no alternative but to sell a portion of these goods on the black market. Is this a service you can provide?”
“Naturally,” the Black King said. “But the cost isn’t low. I’ll require a commission equal to fifty percent of the markup between the current market price and the final selling price. You can choose to set the selling price yourself or leave this at my discretion.”
“Half of the additional profits seems a bit steep,” Wang Jun said. “How about twenty-five percent?”
The Black King chuckled ominously. Even Wang Jun, with his extraordinary mental resilience, couldn’t help but shiver.
“There is no negotiating when you sell through me,” the Black King said. “By all means, sell them yourself. However, the risks you run may outweigh the rewards. I am aware of your family rules and have plenty of contacts that could inform them.”
Wang Jun’s eyes narrowed. “That sounds like a threat.”
“That’s because it is one,” the Black King said. “Do you accept or refuse?”
Wang Jun thought for a moment before throwing three bags on the table. “These three bags each contain ten thousand high-grade spirit stones’ worth of goods at the current market price. I want you to sell one at two times the list price, and one at 2.25 times the list price. The other bag’s pricing is up to your discretion.”
“How prudent,” the Black King said, sweeping them up. A black page materialized on his desk. “Here is the service contract. I trust you’ll find it adequate.”
Wang Jun inspected the sheet, which was written in gold. His eyes widened when he realized the severity of the contract. “No wonder you’ve been able to maintain your secrecy since you started your operations.”
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