“You’re far from the least of us,” Wei Longshen said. “And I’m sure that whatever tongue lashings he gave you, I’ll get ten times over.”
“Compared to you, we’re nothing to mention, brother,” Wei Lixin said. He was in his sixties and thus considered young. He was a cultivator and therefore didn’t look much older than Wei Longshen himself. He wasn’t a strong fighter, but he’d managed to reach the peak of the rune-carving realm. He was also a handsome man, slim but well-built. He was never lacking for suitors.
“Come now, it’s not all that bad,” Wei Longshen said. “There’s plenty of work to go around, and you can’t say you’re not well taken care of.” His brother was generally a good man. He was well spoken, and unlike himself, he excelled in management. He did have one vice, however, and it had always irked his father deeply. “How have your… underground activities been going?”
“They were going well until about eight hours ago,” Wei Lixin said. “Brother, when I gamble on you, you should at least have the decency to win.”
“What was it this time?” Wei Longshen asked. “Did you bet on how long it would take for a new sect to sever ties with us?”
“That was one of the safer bets,” Wei Lixin said. “I won that one. No, it was how long it would take for someone else to get assassinated. I was hoping you’d draw it out by at least another week.”
“Well, at least your heart was in the right place,” Wei Longshen said. “I don’t have to bail you out again, do I?”
“Please,” Wei Lixin said. “I learned not to put all my eggs in one basket before you were even born. Last time was an exception rather than the rule.”
Wei Longshen rolled his eyes. “Well, out with it,” Wei Longshen said.
“We’re bleeding people again,” Wei Lixin said. “All in key trades related to dragon metals. We can’t keep up the same production speed, so we’re in effect bleeding money as well.”
“I see,” Wei Longshen said, stopping for a moment. “Are we meeting our contractual minimums?”
“Yes?” Wei Lixin said hesitantly.
“And how are margins in the sector?” Wei Longshen asked.
“Admittedly not good because of recent metal pricing,” Wei Lixin said. “But that’s temporary, and these are still an important part of our revenue. Our coffers are a little low, and the banks will have our hide if cash flow falls below our contractual thresholds.”
“Don’t mind the smiths,” Wei Longshen said. “Do you have a list of those who left?”
Wei Lixin handed him a paper list, which he looked through.
“Not bad. Only two in ten of those we lost were the cream of the crop. The others we can do without.” He then made another column and began writing down names from memory. He stopped at about fifty of them. “Recruit these if you can. Pay their penalties and offer incentive bonuses payable in a half year. Find me again when you need more.”
“Who are they employed by?” Wei Lixin asked.
“Truth be told, I’m not sure,” Wei Longshen said. “They used to be employed by the Li Clan, and I’d forgotten all about them. But since all direct members of the Li Clan were killed and their businesses sold, that means others might not know their true value. There are talisman artists. Alchemists. Formation masters. Scribes. All sorts of professions not affected by metal prices. These should boost our cash flow and give us better margins to boot. We can hunt for smiths later when metal prices are more reasonable.”
“Once again, the young master saves the day,” Wei Lixin said with a laugh.
“We’re a family,” Wei Longshen said. “If we can’t work together, who can we work with?” It was something their father had been very adamant about. A family tradition that had withstood the test of time when other families crumbled due to infighting.
They climbed the main staircase, and on the second floor they found their mother and his youngest sister, Wei Xinya. She made a familiar hand sign as they approached, and like they’d rehearsed, Wei Lixin intercepted his mother as Wei Longshen walked past.
“I need to speak to Longshen,” Madame Wei said. “He needs to watch himself in there. His father’s not in the best of moods.”
“He understands, Mother,” Wei Lixin said. “Now, I need your help with something very important to the family. Only you can help me with this.” Wei Longshen heard no more as his sister joined him on the next leg of their climb. Likely for the same reasons as his mother, but with more relevant information.
“Talk to me,” Wei Longshen said.
“Do you want to hear about the slander or the other things?” Wei Xinya asked.
“We always knew they were going to lump me in with death cultivators and necromancers,” Wei Longshen said. “In fact, maybe it’s a good thing they’re spreading rumors. In the long term, we’ll use this to normalize the Yin Clan’s image.”
“The usual hostilities aside, it seems the Cao Clan is using this latest attack to foment rebellion among our newest allies,” Wei Xinya said. “Not directly, of course.”
“Also expected,” Wei Longshen said.
“Well, it was news to me when I heard it thirty minutes ago,” Wei Xinya said. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of soft power they’re using. They clearly prepared in advance.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Wei Longshen said. “The prefecture lords?”
“No response, and no reactions from the council members,” Wei Xinya said. “I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything. This is a tricky situation, Longshen. You need to talk to me before you act from now on.”
“You’re hesitating,” Wei Longshen said. “What else is there?”
“You know, politics,” Wei Xinya said.
“You wouldn’t hesitate if you thought I couldn’t help,” Wei Longshen said.
“It’s not that I think you can help, it’s that I can’t figure it out on my own,” Wei Xinya said. “Recently, the Stormbright Sect, the Eclipse Sect, and the Hallowed Sons Sect have stopped their infighting. With all their free time, they’ve decided to cause trouble in our crafting districts. As a result, we’ve had to allocate a ridiculous amount of manpower to this area, weakening enforcement in other sectors.”
“Hm,” Wei Longshen said, scratching his chin. “I recall Daoist Revered Light from the Stormbright Sect being insufferable and offensive. He always acted brashly, pulling his sect into all sorts of trouble. What’s happened? Have Daoist Vanished Moon and Daoist Cleansing Light not been stepping in to block him?”
“Their clans have curbed their behavior overnight,” Wei Xinya said. “Their grand elders recently ended their seclusion and have taken a more active hand in clan affairs.”
“And no word or whisper on why that is?” Wei Longshen asked.
“Unfortunately, my informants aren’t what they used to be, and my social circle has been shrinking,” Wei Xinya said. “If it was only a few people that gave me the silent treatment, I could try pinpointing the source, but something like this? I sense a deft hand is behind it all.”
“Well, in my experience, it doesn’t matter how strict the elder is,” Wei Longshen said. “Juniors are always very difficult to control. Moreover, elders are often forced to back juniors when they commit to a course of action, lest they lose face in front of the other clans or sects. The best thing to do would be to instigate Revered Light. As their leader’s direct disciple, he’s difficult to hold back. They’ll be forced to fight.”
“I recall he has a propensity for gambling,” Wei Xinya said.
“That he does,” Wei Longshen said. “Thankfully, we have our own resident gambler—Lixin.”
“He’s terrible at gambling,” Wei Xinya said.
“It’s a good thing we’ll be cheating, then,” Wei Longshen said. She raised an eyebrow. “Not directly. For someone else, obviously. I’ll send a small spirit over. As long as we distract the Hallowed Sons, and Lixin and a few more plants do enough to egg them on, I refuse to believe we can’t start something.”
“The Hallowed Suns are gifted at detecting lies and subterfuge,” Wei Xinya cautioned.
“Lixin won’t have cheated,” Wei Longshen. “That’s the spirit’s job, and I’ll have instructed it. In fact, don’t tell him about it, just tell him he should egg them on in case the dice are in our favor. Then he’ll be able to claim ignorance.”
“No way I’m telling Father about this,” Wei Xinya said. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk politics more often?”
“My dear, I’d rather drink a cup of death-nettle tea,” Wei Longshen said. “But you’re right, we should talk more often. In fact, perhaps there are other problems we can solve in a similar fashion.” He glanced at the door. “I’d love to speak longer, but you know how much he hates waiting. Is there anything else?”
“The elders aren’t happy,” Wei Xinya said. “Half of them are trying to figure out some way to punish you.”
“They won’t try until they know the extent of the damage,” Wei Longshen said. “Even then, they can’t punish me if they need my help to pull us out.”
“True,” Wei Xinya said. They stopped in front of the hallway leading to their father’s study. “Good luck.”
“I don’t need luck,” Wei Longshen said. “I need patience and understanding.”
She smiled at the unspoken joke. Their father would give him neither. He was a stern man who made a point of digging into their bad decisions like a pathologist would a corpse.
Wei Longshen walked ahead and knocked twice on the door to his father’s study. It opened before he could knock a third time. He entered the comfortably sized room, walked to his father’s desk, and bowed. “Father.”
The man didn’t immediately reply, but instead continued what he was doing. He was polishing a small item with a soft cloth.
Wei Longshen glanced around the office and noted that the usual mementos and curios were all in their places. Patriarch Wei was a respected man who had accumulated many honors from his many government positions. Most were commemorative plaques, though many were practical items that would grant improved health and increased fortune.
His father was cleaning something new, something he’d never taken out before. To Wei Longshen’s knowledge, there were no items matching it in the family’s ledgers. He should know—his father had forced him to recite many key lists from memory. The item in question was a small dagger with a sharp golden blade etched with the characters for “justice.” Its black hilt was similarly engraved with the characters for “blind.” It was a powerful item, and even his strong soul couldn’t evaluate its grade.
“Justice is blind,” his father said, replacing the dagger in its sheath. The glow of the blade vanished when he did so. “An old saying. There are many interpretations to it. What’s yours, Longshen? Take a seat.”
Wei Longshen did so. He took a few moments to come up with an answer, yet somehow, he knew it would be the wrong one. “My interpretation of the saying ‘justice is blind’ is that to be true justice, it must be blind. It cannot favor anyone in particular, or it isn’t true justice.”
“A very idealistic interpretation, yes,” Patriarch Wei said with wistful smile. “Straight out of the family books. Did you take a good look at the dagger? You have a strong soul, no?”
“It’s a powerful artifact,” Wei Longshen said. “I sensed karmic-severing powers in the blade, and powers of concealment in the hilt.”
“Indeed,” Patriarch Wei said. “Justice is blind. There are many interpretations. Some use it as a blade to champion for the wronged, while others use it to curse the system that so often fails them. In this case, it represents the wisdom of a great king: Sometimes, for justice to happen, others must be blind to it.”
Wei Longshen frowned. “That seems to be in contradiction with our family’s tenets.”
“Yes and no,” Patriarch Wei said. “Tell me, what would you do if the law was served, but justice was not? What if the public outcry of doing the right thing would be too great for anyone to bear? And what if our king or emperor wasn’t satisfied with this outcome? What if it would lead to war?”
Wei Longshen nodded slowly. “I think I understand, Father.”
“Sometimes, justice can only be served if people are ignorant of its proceedings,” his father continued. “The Dagger of Hidden Justice was crafted with this intent in mind. Its blade is sharp, though it is poor at rending flesh. It is best used to server karma and sever lies. And before you protest, think of the potential uses. Let us suppose a man needed to die for justice to be served. You killed him. You could use the dagger to sever your karmic relations to him. No one need discover the truth of the matter. Justice is served. End of story.”
“Could a truth watcher not simply ask you about it?” Wei Longshen asked, curious about the item’s limitations.
“Justice is blind,” his father said. “Just as the dagger severs karma, it obscures the truth of it. It would take a powerful truth watcher to bypass this function, especially since the karma behind the event has already been severed.”
“A powerful weapon in the wrong hands,” Wei Longshen said.
“Bearing this dagger is a heavy burden,” his father agreed. “I have used it twice in my life. My father three times, and his father only a single time. I hope to never use it again. It never leaves my person, and you are the only who knows of it.” He drew the dagger and cut at thin, nigh-invisible strings before shielding it. “And now, you can deny it all you like. Tell me, Longshen. What do you know?”
“As of fifteen minutes ago, two mid-sized clans and five small sects have chosen to renege on their contracts of allegiance, choosing to pay cancelation penalties rather than remain associated with us,” Wei Longshen said. “Though two of these had adequate cash reserves to do such a thing, the others came upon large sums of money through anonymous means.”
“It’s obviously the Cao Clan who did it,” his father said bitterly.
“How did you know?” Wei Longshen said.
“Intuition,” Patriarch Wei replied. “I trust you have some information that corroborates this?”
Wei Longshen withdrew a green folder. His father raised an eyebrow, but Wei Longshen gave him an even look, placed it on the desk, and slid it forward. It wasn’t so much the color of the folder that gave away where he’d gotten it, but the raised pattern on its surface: A circle containing three trees that were bending in the wind. The mark of the Greenwind Pavilion.
Patriarch Wei opened the letter and nodded. “Three pointed questions. Minimalistic. Not too expensive.”
“I believe the price was worth it,” Wei Longshen said. “Moreover, we now have information about the assassin, whom, might I add, was also hired by the Cao Clan.”
“How strong?” Patriarch Wei asked.
“He is an early rune-gathering cultivator, but he relies on a law-stitching-grade stealth technique and other stealth artifacts to completely evade sight and divination,” Wei Longshen answered. “Though I asked for specifics, this skill set is common. Using the assassin’s rank, we’ve narrowed it down to three potential assassins. I’ve purchased a folio on each of them. Regardless, he was hired one month ago, around the same time it became clear that we wouldn’t be satisfied with just a dozen additions to our clan.”
“Assassins are tricky,” Patriarch Wei said. “Can we place a counterbounty?”
“The Adventurers Guild and Mercenary Guild have refused the listing,” Wei Longshen said. “It’s to do with inter-guild mechanics. Our only option would be to issue a counterbounty through the Assassins Guild.”
“Unacceptable,” Patriarch Wei said.
“I agree,” Wei Longshen said. “If we hired them, our family’s reputation in the empire would get dragged through the gutters. We can only rely on ourselves and our allies in this matter.”
Patriarch Wei sighed. “Fine. I don’t blame you for this, Longshen. We took a chance, and we gained much. Our influence in the city is much greater than it used to be, even with thi
s development. It was inevitable that others would take action.”
“I believe it would be best to stop recruiting and cut off all current negotiations,” Wei Longshen said. “If not for our reputation, for their protection. I’m not certain about the specifics of the contract, but I’d wager the assassin is on retainer and authorized to act preventatively.”
“He is a powerful deterrent,” Patriarch Wei agreed. Then he sighed. “I thought that by retiring from the capital, I wouldn’t have to deal with this sort of thing.”
“People dare use assassins in the king’s own city?” Wei Longshen asked, surprised.
“It’s the king who’s doing it half the time,” Patriarch Wei explained. “It annoyed me to no end.”
Wei Longshen sighed. “This won’t be the last of them, Father. Others will die, assuming we push too far and force the assassin to act again.”
“Then we must be careful,” Patriarch Wei said. “I believe you and your brothers and sisters are doing fine. I have confidence that you can handle the fallout and minimize the damage.”
“Then I’m confused as to why you called me,” Wei Longshen said. His father didn’t like wasting time.
“First, to assess your understanding of the situation,” Patriarch Wei said. “Second, to guide you if you were straying. Grooming a family’s leader isn’t easy, and situations like this are hard to come by. I need to know whether you can handle the pressure.”
“And the third reason?” Wei Longshen asked.
“I wanted to offer you some extra perspective,” Patriarch Wei said. “You aren’t as deeply involved in politics as your sister, your mother, and I are. You’ve also never been assigned at the capital. This is your weakness, Longshen, but unfortunately, it is a difficult one to remedy. Politics require a significant investment in time and study.”
“My gut tells me this is much bigger than clan growing pains,” Wei Longshen said.
Claddings of Light : Book 12 of Painting the Mists Page 19