Corrupted Crimson

by Patrick Laplante

  I am Gong Lan, and I am unfettered, she thought as she ran through the woods. Her limbs moved without her permission as she relived a painful memory. She scampered down a ravine to escape a fierce spirit beast. It had been sent by the man she trusted most.

  Whether I live or die, I’ll live on as a ghost and haunt him, she vowed as the spirit beast pounced on her and devoured her flesh.

  I am Gong Lan, and I am unfettered, she repeated to herself.

  “This is the happiest moment of my life,” said the woman whose body she’d inhabited this time, tears in her eyes. She held her newborn baby in her arms and swore, “I might be dying soon, but I swear to keep you safe for the rest of your life.”

  I am Gong Lan, and I am unfettered, she repeated. This time, she relived an oath of vengeance. It was memories like these that she understood the most as she stepped closer and closer to her greatest enemy in this endeavor—her previous self.

  Chapter 37: Fetters

  Wang Jun stared at Li Ming as he drank a cup of medicinal tea. The report the man had written sat on his desk between them. Protector Ren sat beside him.

  “Hei Ling has disappeared for quite some time,” Wang Jun said. “Is there something you’d like to share with me? Truth be told, I don’t find your report very convincing. There are far too many holes in your obvious lies.”

  The man’s eyes shifted. “Unfortunately, I’m not at liberty to disclose this. The repercussions would be quite severe.”

  “If this is a soul contract, I’ll compensate you for the inconvenience,” Wang Jun said.

  “I don’t think you can afford it,” Li Ming said. “But I’ll do it for fifty thousand high-grade spirit stones.”

  “That’s ludicrous,” Wang Jun said.

  Li Ming shrugged indifferently.

  “Fine, fifty thousand high-grade spirit stones it is, but if you’ve cheated me, you’re not leaving the room alive.” He tossed a small pouch on the desk.

  Li Ming sighed. “Hei Ling is not who you think he is—argh!” The man let out a soul-rending scream that continued for thirty breaths. Neither Protector Ren nor Elder Bai flinched at the expected response. They simply waited for the punishment to end and the pale man to compose himself.

  “Hei Ling is not who you think he is,” Li Ming said. “And neither am I. Just now, my realm dropped down to middle core formation. Hei Ling, whom you had me tail, is a late-core-formation expert. Furthermore, he has an additional secret identity—he is the Black King who you’ve been dealing with all along.”

  Wang Jun was stunned. “I haven’t been dealing with any Black King,” Wang Jun immediately denied, lest he accidentally trigger their contract. “My family sent Hei Ling because he specializes in certain market connections. And why in the heavens are you, a late-core-formation expert, serving as an office worker in my Jade Bamboo Auction House?”

  “It’s a long story,” Li Ming said, sighing. “In brief, I was once an assassin. They called me Three-Strike Killer, after my signature move that killed countless men.” He swished out a dagger in a casual fashion, sending out a triple blow that made the three of them shiver.

  “One day, I’d had enough of that life. I wanted to retire, so I faked my cultivation and found myself a cushy position at the Jade Bamboo Conglomerate.” He chuckled. “Who could have predicted that during this retirement, I’d meet an old acquaintance of mine, an assassin called Black Death? The man had retired as well, but unlike me, he’d retreated to Songjing’s underground without anyone noticing. We only recognized each other once we went on the joint mission together, and he forced me to sign a confidentiality contract. Fortunately, I was too strong, so he couldn’t force a life-binding oath.”

  Wang Jun massaged his brow. “I’m confused. Why would any of this concern me? Isn’t it beneficial to have such a man as my ally?”

  “Would your family really do that?” Li Ming said with a chuckle. “I’d have thought the opposite. From what I gauged back in the Wang family headquarters, they’d rather have him kill you than anything else.” Li Ming paused. “I speculate that the only reason you’re still alive is that Black Death is a greedy and risk-averse man. You likely have something he wants, so he’s letting you live for a while longer. But mark my words, that man finishes a job when he accepts it. After all, he has a peculiar habit.”

  “Which is?” Wang Jun said.

  “Every commission he takes is sworn to a time limit via life-bound oath,” Li Ming explained.

  The gears in Wang Jun’s mind turned as he processed this new information. What Li Ming said was consistent with his own experience. The Black King’s mannerisms, the inconsistences in the report. He made a mental note to confirm all the information Li Ming had disclosed. If the Black King’s strength was as high as Li Ming said, that meant that his original preparations could hardly defend him should the man choose to assassinate him after completing their exchange.

  “Li Ming, I’d like to hire you for a job,” Wang Jun said. “It’s a dangerous one, but I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “Do tell,” Li Ming said.

  “We’ll call it Operation Black Death,” Wang Jun said.

  Regardless of whether the Black King was plotting against him, killing the man after completing the exchange would instantly solve his financial problems. As for the life of a wanted assassin? It was an easy decision to make.

  It was a cool spring day, and the scent of freshly sprouted willows was a soothing complement to the wonderful hot spring bath Bei Guan was currently enjoying. He relaxed as the cold wind danced on his hot skin like soft, painless pinpricks. A splash of warm water reminded him that he was bathing with someone else—the love of his life, Li Er.

  “What were you thinking about?” she asked him playfully as she advanced toward him with a mischievous expression.

  “I was thinking about how beautiful you are and how perfect life is,” Bei Guan said. “Li Er, will you be my Dao companion and stay with me for as long as we both live?”

  The woman’s face flushed deeply before she nodded and floated up to him. Her dry hair clung to his wet face as she rested her head on his chest. A warm feeling appeared in his heart; the warmth spread through his chest to his whole body and triggered something inside Cha Ming. In this moment of clarity, he suddenly remembered Yu Wen, whom he had met in Fuxi’s Library. The memory reminded Cha Ming of who he was.

  That was a close call, he thought. Which memory was this again? The tenth? The hundredth? The thousandth? Each passing memory dragged him deeper and deeper. Gentle memories and innocent promises like these touched him deepest; they reminded him of what he lacked most in life: a loving partner to share his life with.

  As quickly as it had come, the landscape shifted. This time, he was a soldier in the middle of battle. He had lost everything to the invaders and had sworn never to rest until his enemies fell. Coincidentally, these enemies were also part of the dying Song Kingdom, whose unstable borders were shifting violently during the Song Empire’s fall from grace.

  This was one of the more common memories. The resentment from war was both plentiful and intense, and while Cha Ming could most easily separate himself from these feelings, they wore away at him like a millstone. The soldiers who had perished on the battlefield were tiny pieces of grit that scratched away at his soul one small scuff at a time.

  I am Gong Lan, and I am unfettered, she repeated once more as yet another battlefield appeared before her. This time, she was a conscript. The man cursed both his enemies and his country. He had been a tailor before the war began, and now he was nothing but a common foot soldier, an expendable meat shield for the cultivators behind him.

  If they hadn’t recruited me, I could have owned my own shop and married, the man thought. I could have had children and grown old with a loving wife. The sounds of his dying comrades and the stench of blood was overwhelming. He didn’t have to endure it for long, however. His last thought was the realization that a spear had just pierced him in the c
hest. In his dying moments, he cursed the enemy and cursed his king.

  I am Gong Lan, and I am unfettered, she said again. This time, she was surprised to see a familiar memory. She slowly entered a burning village in the distance where corpses were piled high and mutilated bodies were strewn everywhere. She faintly remembered finding a bloody doll and a bloody message warning her about a bloody moon.

  Her blood boiled as she recalled the atrocities that she’d vowed to end. She smiled in satisfaction as she recalled each one of the devils and bandits she killed in the subsequent struggle.

  I am Gong Lan, but am I unfettered? she thought. Although the Bodhi Tree had aided her and cleansed her soul, was she truly rid of her previous self?

  She saw one scene after another of her blood-crazed self reveling in the death of her enemies. With every kill, she relived the man’s resentful dying moments. She realized that this Gong Lan was a part of her, and that they were inseparable.

  In the outside world, the crimson tendrils surrounding her grew. They extended into her spiritual sea where the golden resplendent soul defended itself against the intensifying attacks one after another.

  I’ve just been running away, she realized. I’ve cloaked myself in a mantle of righteousness to atone, but in the process, I’ve shackled myself to my own resentment. I am Gong Lan, but I am hardly unfettered.

  Crimson chains burst around the soul in her spiritual sea as the last remaining corruption she’d absorbed attacked her all at once. They formed a total of eighty-one fetters, representing eighty-one major regrets in her life. Seeing this development, she forced herself to calm down. This was her true challenge: facing her past self without the aid of the Bodhi Tree.

  “There’s only one way to save the world,” her soul mumbled. “One soul at a time, starting with my own.” She stopped resisting the corruption and took the initiative, sending her consciousness into the first of the eighty-one chains. It was the weakest one, but it covered the others in a protective film.

  She found herself in a training yard. It was a hot summer day, and she and her brother were training like their life depended on it. As they performed one grueling exercise after another, a harsh figure reprimanded her.

  “Look at your brother, Gong Lan,” her father said. “He’s very talented, but he doesn’t try hard enough. You’re just like me. You need to try harder than anyone else to succeed. But don’t aim to be like him. You need to set your sights farther than that.”

  These were words that had shaped her entire personality as a child. Because of her late father’s words, she’d pushed herself harder than anyone else her age. Whenever she failed to catch up, she blamed herself for her failure.

  Surprisingly, however, her new frame of mind gave her a different perspective on the incident.

  He was just telling me not to resent my brother’s talent, Gong Lan thought. He was telling me to aim past him because he didn’t want me to set my brother as a goal in the first place. Instead I ignored his advice. I forged ahead and aimed to surpass him.

  This simple revelation brought her a great amount of relief. She reflected on this memory and many other connected memories and let them wash past her. Little by little, the thread of corruption unraveled. After what could have been seconds, days, or years, the smallest of the eighty-one chains faded away, leaving only eighty attachments.

  I am Gong Lan, she thought. And I am not unfettered. Not yet.

  “Prince Lei, Song Tian’s forces have breached the defenses of the outer families,” a soldier reported. “They are currently grouping their forces for a final push against the Jade Bamboo Auction House.”

  Prince Lei’s face was covered in sweat and grime. He was the core of their forces, jumping from fire to fire as Prince Tian consumed them one piece at a time. “What about the royal uncles? How is their condition?”

  “This… it’s better if you see for yourself,” the soldier replied hesitantly. Prince Lei nodded and followed the man to the largest courtyard in the Jade Bamboo Auction House. They walked inside the largest accommodation, where they were greeted by three doctors and Li Yin.

  “How fares my royal father?” Prince Lei asked the three doctors who were busy tending to one of four comatose men.

  “He’s still at death’s door,” the doctors said. “We’re doing everything in our power to help him. Not that we’re very useful in the other three cases.” He shook his head ruefully. “Li Yin is the only one who can help them.”

  Prince Lei noticed that Li Yin and three other elderly men were tending to the three royal uncles. Their wounds were covered in bloody bandages, something that was hardly ever seen in treating such high-level cultivators. “It’s a good thing they had the sense to dabble in body refining,” Li Yin said as he applied an ointment to one of the men’s crossbow wounds. The shaft had been cut but not removed, indicating that the bleeding couldn’t be stopped.

  “The others say they can’t treat the royal uncles,” Prince Lei said. “Does that mean that they were poisoned like my father?”

  “Yes,” Li Yin said. “Two of the three are fading fast, and they won’t last another half hour even under my care. The youngest of the bunch might live if Zhou Bei makes an appearance to cure the poison.”

  Prince Lei finally noticed the absence of the frightening man. “Where has Zhou Bei gone to?”

  Li Yin shrugged. “He said something about settling a feud outside the city. Who knows when he’ll be back.”

  Zhou Bei panted harshly. His vision was blurry from the amount of blood he had lost. Fortunately, it wasn’t all for naught. The patriarch and an elder of the Zhou family had perished under his poison, and their grand elder would be crippled for the remainder of his short life.

  “Was it worth it?” the man with wispy long gray hair asked. “Was it worth throwing your life away, only to die while I still live?”

  “You won’t live for long,” Zhou Bei said in a raspy voice. “You might as well kill me now. I can’t do much to you now that my poison has been depleted.”

  “As you wish,” the grand elder said coldly. He lifted a gleaming black sword and hacked down with all his might. Zhou Bei closed his eyes as he waited for death.

  However, it didn’t come. Instead, he heard a clank and a stab, and a spay of hot blood splashed all over him as the man he had poisoned collapsed on top of him.

  “What an idiot,” a voice said casually from behind the grand elder. “Who wears his family emblem so openly in a civil war? He was asking to be killed.”

  Zhou Bei opened his eyes and saw the blurry figure of a young man whose black-and-gold cloak fluttered in the wind. The man held a long gold spear, but most importantly, he had the aura of a core-formation cultivator.

  “My name is Feng Ming,” the man said as he tossed a bottle of pills to Zhou Bei, who didn’t hesitate to swallow them. A soothing sensation permeated his body as his wounds rapidly stitched together and his qi quickly replenished itself.

  “My name is Zhou Bei,” he replied. Seeing Feng Ming’s eyes flicker to the corpse on the ground, he chuckled. “No relation to the Zhou family. Not anymore.” His eyes lingered on the black-and-gold cloak the man was wearing. “Will you be going to the city, Marshal Feng?”

  Feng Ming nodded.

  “Then do you mind doing this old man a favor? I need to get back to the Jade Bamboo Auction House.”

  Chapter 38: Father

  Feng Ming and Zhou Bei entered Songjing through a corroded hole in the city wall. Although he’d only brought along the odd-looking man on a whim, he’d proven to be extremely useful almost immediately. As soon as they got to the other side of the wall, he sent a quick transmission to the forces that were following from Southhaven. With such an opening, they’d have no problem participating in the final battle.

  Looking around, Feng Ming quickly used his spear to carve out a section of a nearby building and place it over the entrance. Such a crude disguise would do for a short period of time, especially given the chao
tic situation in the rest of the city. Feng Ming was shocked to discover that not only were the princes warring, but so were the common people. Fist fights and deadly altercations were breaking out over the pettiest things.

  “They can’t all be possessed,” Feng Ming said.

  “Agreed,” Zhou Bei said. “Perhaps it’s a poison applied on a massive scale.” The man swished his sleeve and spread purple dust all over a group of squabbling commoners. They all fell asleep with weapons in hand.

  “Perhaps,” Feng Ming said. “I’ve been away from the city for some time. Do you know of anything that would help us cross the forces surrounding the Jade Bamboo Auction House?”

  “There’s one thing,” Zhou Bei said. “I’ve heard that since your father’s fall, the troops have been plagued with doubt. Your appearance might devastate their morale to the point that the crown prince will have to retreat.”

  Feng Ming contemplated this issue as they approached. He confirmed this information by probing nearby conversations with his resplendent soul. Accordingly, they cut a large arc and headed toward the north of the city.

  “Halt!” a man cried out as they entered a run-down neighborhood. Feng Ming glanced up and saw a soldier in black armor. “Wait, is that Marshal Feng?”

  Dozens of soldiers scrambled to the top of a sturdy building. General Tang, who greatly resembled his twin brother, appeared along with them.

  “Is it true?” General Tang asked. “Was Marshal Feng killed by the crown prince?”

  Feng Ming nodded. “That bastard Song Tian crossed the line. I’m joining Prince Lei’s faction to overthrow him.”

  General Tang peered out from his vantage point. “Come up here, Marshal,” he said.

  Feng Ming and Zhou Bei flew up and saw a large mass of troops crushing around the Jade Bamboo Auction House. “If you can figure out a way to get through those troops, we’ll come along with you.”