Corrupted Crimson

by Patrick Laplante

  The more she thought about it, the more she felt the chains bite into her soul. The more she struggled against the thought, the deeper it hooked onto her spirit. The pain grew increasingly intense; the contradiction kept echoing through her mind as she struggled to break free.

  Suddenly it struck her. I’m attached to consistency. This shackle isn’t about my desire for victory but rather my struggle with the concept of non-attachment.

  The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. This was only a contradiction if she attached herself too strongly to the concept of non-attachment. It was a concept that should be lightly grasped at best, or it would forever evade her.

  A relaxed feeling ran through her body as she realized that being an unattached monk yet serving the people was a logical contradiction. In the same sense, becoming a buddha or a bodhisattva was also a contradiction. But by following the path of non-attachment, this was a reasonable result if one learned to let go. In this way, people who followed the path of non-violence could continue to live, despite their existence being a detriment to others. It was why tolerance and righteous indignation could coexist, and why her existence was not an inconsistency like she once thought.

  The last chain unraveled, and she opened her eyes. What used to be the emperor’s pure jade seal was now a lifeless green color without a trace of corruption. It shattered into countless grains of dust upon her awakening and released Sibi’s pale figure.

  “How is this possible?” Sibi said hoarsely as his figure distorted and weakened. “How could you have succeeded where I failed?”

  Gong Lan shook her head. “You just cared too much about success, and that was your downfall. Now behave while I send you off.”

  Sibi’s ghost was silent as she released the 10,080 prayer beads. They glowed with unfettered gold light as one pearl after another shattered the remnants of corruption surrounding his soul. The remaining phantom smiled and bowed deeply to Gong Lan before being whisked away by the Yellow River.

  “Thank you, my friends,” Gong Lan said to her companions before collapsing in exhaustion.

  A red-robed man walked out of the king’s chamber with a mournful expression. His two brothers hadn’t made it.

  “Let’s go teach those bastards a lesson,” he said to Feng Ming, who nodded and hefted his Magma God’s Spear.

  A crowd of troops funneled out and followed Feng Ming as he walked through Central Square toward the Alchemists Association. General Tang led thousands of troops to join them as they walked. Likewise, Chaplain Chen also joined them. His inquisitors all held luminous pearls that banished away the nearby corruption.

  Enemy troops filled with madness launched themselves at them desperately as they approached. They tried their best to incapacitate them, but many good men died as they advanced and entered the Alchemists Association.

  The Magma God’s Spear glowed with a searing light that blinded his enemies and guided his allies forward. Every step he took caused enemy forces to tumble and techniques to fail. Equipment shattered on impact while his own force’s swords and sabers struck non-vital points. Still, it was an imperfect process.

  If only we didn’t have to kill each other like this, Feng Ming thought. If only everyone could come to their senses and end this needless bloodshed. As he thought this, a gentle wind blew across the kingdom. It started from Southhaven Wall, where vicious fighting had broken out. Men who had gone crazy somehow regained their lucidity and surrendered their arms. General Qin clubbed them just to be sure.

  As Feng Ming’s forces breached the Alchemists Association’s walls, the wind swept over Green Leaf City. The fighting amongst teachers and students was rapidly quelled, as was the fighting between the city’s mortal residents.

  As the butt of Feng Ming’s spear struck a general’s head and knocked him unconscious, the wind spread throughout the outskirts of Songjing. People who had been fighting in the streets suddenly realized their mistakes. They knelt on the ground and cried to their ancestors, begging for forgiveness.

  As Feng Ming’s troops arrived outside the crown prince’s final holdout, the three generals regained their mental clarity.

  “What have we done?” General Zhang whispered. The many details that had eluded them finally snapped into place. They suddenly realized the crown prince’s atrocities and their fervent support.

  “This is the final moment,” Prince Tian said with a crazed expression. “If we kill this Marshal Feng, we will win!”

  The three generals looked at the demented crown prince with pity. It was clear to them that they had lost, and that there was no longer a benefit to fighting.

  “My prince, we should surrender,” one of the generals suggested.

  “We can never surrender,” Prince Tian said. “I’ve seen the future, a future where our people are enslaved and raised like cattle. We must fight for our survival by uniting with the south. It’s the only way for our people to survive!”

  Sighing, the three generals drew their weapons and approached the mad prince. “Then as citizens of the kingdom, we must perform our duty and defend it to the last.” They nodded to each other and simultaneously ignited their potential. The energy from their cores suddenly poured into their bodies all at once.

  “It’ll all be over soon, my prince,” one of the generals said.

  These three generals, in their delusion, had done unthinkable things. For them, there was no forgiveness.

  “What are you doing?” Prince Tian exclaimed as he noticed their sudden increase in power. He drew his sword and lashed out against them like a cornered badger. They ignored their wounds and joined in a three-man formation to trap and suppress him.

  “There is no future for us, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one for the kingdom,” General Zhang said. “We will atone for our crimes in the next life.”

  A massive boom filled the air, destroying the three generals along with Prince Tian. The doors to their room burst outward and allowed the invading troops inside. All that remained of the four were a few high-grade treasures and what remained of Prince Tian—a black-and-gold cloak and a marshal’s medallion.

  An eerie quiet pervaded the Jade Bamboo Auction House. The fighting had died down within the hour, with Prince Lei’s forces claiming victory. Everyone, including Wang Jun’s own staff, were busy tallying losses and damages while evaluating their path forward. Only the sickly looking Wang Jun, Protector Ren, Elder Bai, and Li Ming were otherwise preoccupied. They waited for a special guest in a building not far from the auction house, where they had agreed to meet.

  As per their contract, Wang Jun had brought only three people, to which he could only disclose minimal information.

  “Do you think he’ll come?” Li Ming asked. He had removed his disguise and revealed his full cultivation base. After all, the Black King already knew who he was.

  “He will,” Wang Jun said confidently. “This is a rather large exchange, even for him.”

  A half hour trickled by. During this time, Wang Jun performed some routine inspections over their ample preparations. At midnight exactly, a black mist congregated into a lone figure, and the man confidently waltzed into the warehouse with not a care in the world.

  “I see that Li Ming broke his contract,” the Black King said nonchalantly. “Did you enjoy his story?”

  “It was an interesting story,” Wang Jun said. “Though I was more interested in securing his services for protection. I’m wounded, after all.”

  The Black King seemed to smirk from within his cloak. “Of course, of course,” he said. “Have you brought the immortal-jade core? I’ve brought the payment.” He removed a simple-looking ring from his finger. Wang Jun could tell it was a spatial artifact with a simple glance.

  “I did,” Wang Jun said, pulling out a bag of holding. “Pardon my frugality on the bag of holding. Money has been rather tight of late. Let’s get this exchange over with.” He began walking forward.

  “You know, it’s too bad you don’t trust me
more,” the Black King said. “Even Daoist Obscurus places a certain amount of trust in my abilities.”

  Wang Jun’s heart skipped a beat when he heard this name. What was his relationship with Daoist Obscurus? How could he possibly know him? His palms began to sweat as he readied himself to activate the formations as per their plan. Both he and the Black King simultaneously flicked their spatial artifacts toward each other. They caught them simultaneously, bringing their contract to an end.

  As soon as their karmic ties dissipated, the Black King released a vast amount of killing intent. Behind Wang Jun, his three protectors unleashed their cultivation bases and killing intent and prepared to act. Wang Jun’s mind was in turmoil, but he activated the many formations Cha Ming had prepared beforehand under his direction. While he might not be able to harm someone like the Black King, he could at least restrain him.

  But what to do? Wang Jun thought. Since he knows that man, it can’t be a coincidence.

  After firming up his resolve, Wang Jun burst out with chains of shadow and fate. They surrounded him, but instead of binding the Black King, they bound Protector Ren, Elder Bai, and Li Ming. Fortunately, this prompting was all his two staunchest allies needed to stand down. Most of the restraining power was directed toward Li Ming, whose cultivation base had increased from what he’d originally revealed. Wang Jun also directed five layers of formations to further hinder Li Ming.

  The Black King, seeing this development, continued rushing toward Wang Jun with his black dagger in hand. The air distorted, and he passed straight through the second young master of the Wang family and directly stabbed at the surprised Li Ming. The black dagger pierced his heart, but to Wang Jun’s surprise, the man was still alive.

  “How did you know?” Li Ming said hoarsely as he tumbled to the ground, mortally wounded. “My planning was flawless, my cover and my ruse without blemishes. You should have believed me and not him!”

  Wang Jun sighed. “I almost didn’t realize it. Not until he mentioned Daoist Obscurus.”

  “Who?” Li Ming asked. Black blood was trickling out of his mouth, his eyes begging for one final answer before he stepped into the grave.

  Wang Jun shook his head. “Only those my master trusts can remember his name. It’s wreathed in shadows, unspeakable by those who aren’t his followers. If the Black King knows his name, that meant he was surely a junior brother of mine. Isn’t that right?” He glanced at the cloaked figure.

  The Black King chuckled and pulled down his hood. His hair was black, and his skin was pale. The man looked to be in his fifties. “This lowly one is lucky to be one of your master’s inner disciples. Unfortunately, I am only skilled in shadows. One can only become a core disciple with diligence and luck.”

  “I see,” Li Ming said, sighing in relief. “So my plan was flawless after all. Now tell me, were you the girl I caught in the teahouse?”

  “The matron, actually,” Wang Jun said. “The girl was an excellent smokescreen.”

  Li Ming nodded.

  “Black Death has his own quirks, and I have mine,” Li Ming said. “Since you’ve defeated me, you deserve a reward.”

  “Oh?” Wang Jun said.

  “In my ring, you’ll find some damning evidence,” Li Ming said. “It might be useful if you return to the capital.”

  “But why would you give it to me?” Wang Jun said.

  “Black Death has his life-bound oaths, and I have my reward,” Li Ming said with a light smile on his face. “You don’t reach the top without being a little odd.” Then he slumped down as his last breath left him.

  “I take it Master sent you to help me?” Wang Jun said, turning to Hei Ling.

  Hei Ling nodded. “As discreetly as possible. He knew that the first young master had sent Li Ming to kill you, and he didn’t want you to be at a disadvantage. However, he left strict instructions that I couldn’t give you anything for free—only services.”

  Wang Jun looked at the man on the floor. “Do you mind if I confiscate your spoils of war? As a top-ranking assassin, his net worth is nothing to sneeze at.”

  “Sure,” Hei Ling said. He tossed a silver bracelet onto Li Ming’s corpse. “Who would have thought that his net worth would be so high, though?”

  Wang Jun inspected the silver bracelet and frowned.

  “You don’t need to be worried,” Hei Ling said, laughing. “These are the deeds I acquired and the commission I charged for selling your goods on the black market. I was planning on giving them to you later, but this provides me with a convenient excuse. You can use this as an opportunity to launder any money you’ve acquired illegally through me, including that from selling the immortal jade. After all, the family can’t fault you for confiscating the wealth of a high-tier assassin who happened to be dabbling in the black market.”

  Wang Jun smiled. “Thank you for everything, Junior Brother Ling. I likely would have died without you.”

  “As Master’s only core disciple, we can’t have you losing face.” Hei Ling shrugged. “If there isn’t anything else, I’ll be off.” Then he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

  Later, Wang Jun discovered that any traces of Hei Ling in the city had disappeared as though he had never existed. Even the records in the Jade Bamboo Auction House had been altered. No one would ever suspect a thing.

  Epilogue:

  Two weeks later, Cha Ming was seated at a red table near a newly wedded couple.

  “Who would have thought that Feng Ming would get married so quickly,” he said to Wang Jun, who was seated in front of him. Huxian, Lei Jiang, and Silverwing were in a secluded area where one roast beast after another was brought to sate their voracious appetites.

  “I suppose that’s one way of getting lucky,” Wang Jun said. “Though I heard a funny story.” He sipped on a glass of wine, the first one Cha Ming had ever seen him drink. “When the king awoke from his coma, he mildly remembered waking up for a brief moment and exchanging a conversation with Feng Ming and his daughter. In a fit of rage, he beat Feng Ming and told him, ‘How dare you impersonate your father! You should be punished!’ Then he turned to his daughter and said, ‘Very good, very good. You wanted to help him out so much and lent him my spear? Fine. Only a family member may borrow my spear. If that’s what you want, I’ll act as your matchmaker. You’re getting married in two weeks’ time, grieving period be damned!’”

  Cha Ming burst out laughing. “Is that really true? I heard the king and Marshal Feng were on very good terms.”

  “They were like brothers,” Wang Jun said. “I figure that, in his grief over Feng Chuan’s passing, he resolved to help out his nephew and arrange a marriage for him. He didn’t even give them time to consider, he just forced it on them and told them to accept.”

  “Still, they look happy,” Cha Ming said as he looked at the newly married couple. “Someday I’ll find someone that’s right for me.” The image of Yu Wen, whom he’d met in Fuxi’s Library, came to mind.

  Wang Jun sighed. “I can’t think of such matters until I get my revenge.”

  Cha Ming didn’t press him. He was very aware of his heartache over Hong Xin.

  “Give me a second,” Cha Ming said as he saw some familiar figures in the distance. “I need to go say goodbye to some friends.” He left Wang Jun to his brooding and greeted Luo Xuehua, Dongfang Hao, and the two core-formation elders at the edge of the celebration grounds. They had mostly recovered from their wounds.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay longer?” Cha Ming asked.

  Luo Xuehua shook her head. “Brother Hao and I will be breaking through to core formation soon. After that, we need to rush to the southern frontier. You might not know this, but the Song Kingdom’s civil war was nothing but a petty skirmish. Every day, thousands of cultivators die in the fight against the south’s aggression.”

  “I’ll be back in Quicksilver soon,” Cha Ming said. “But before then, I’ll be helping out Feng Huoshan for a while by teaching some juniors. Can you do me a favor an
d deliver this Shape Talisman to Jun Xiezi. I still owe him a favor, and I’m sure he’ll be happy to see that his investment is bearing dividends.”

  “Sure,” Luo Xuehua said. “It was nice fighting alongside you again, Brother Cha Ming. Don’t be a stranger.” The gentle blind woman then flew off with the aid of the two core-formation protectors. She reminded Cha Ming of a fragile snowflake being taken by the wind.

  “We’ll fight together again, Brother Cha Ming.” Dongfang Hao laughed and flew off as well.

  Cha Ming sighed and looked over to a nearby tree. “Where will you go now?” he asked Gong Lan, who walked out from behind it. Her bald head and orange kasaya remained unchanged, but her demeanor had improved drastically. She no longer seemed so subdued; a hint of wildness emanated from her relaxed eyes.

  “There’s only one place for the World Tree Master,” Gong Lan said. “I will return to the World Tree Monastery and prepare for the upcoming battle. The Southern Alliance’s ambition is far greater than you might realize. A great war will emerge in our lifetime, and it will threaten the very foundation of the plane.”

  “Then I’ll work hard and improve as quickly as possible,” Cha Ming said.

  “Improvement is important, but remember to stay true to yourself,” Gong Lan said. “You made a difficult choice in the labyrinth, and you gained far more than you know in the process. Don’t be dispirited by a simple setback to your cultivation. Heaven never bars all exits.”

  “I’ve been through worse,” Cha Ming said. Gong Lan smiled and bowed lightly. Then, motes of light left her body one by one until she disappeared along with them. He didn’t know when he would see her again.

  Cha Ming returned to the table where Wang Jun was seated. “How long will you be staying in Songjing?”