“I can’t say I’ve heard of it,” Cha Ming said. “Though I don’t like where this is heading.”
“The Spirit Temple doesn’t usually do this kind of business in the North,” Wang Jun explained. “So your ignorance is not surprising. In theory, they’re even stricter in the Golden Kingdom. The process of extracting a soul is quite gruesome, so I’ll skip those details. The end result, however, is that they capture tens of thousands of resentful souls. They do this by inflicting unspeakable horror on innocents then capturing their spirits before they enter the Yellow River. They use them to feed other evil spirits in the Spirit Temple, or they make them devour each other in competition, like gu in a jar. The winner becomes a proud member of the Spirit Temple, and the losers are wiped out from existence, never to reincarnate.”
The chair in which Cha Ming had been sitting cracked as he accidentally crushed the wooden armrest. He looked to Mistress Huang in apology but realized the wood was enchanted. It slowly began repairing itself without any outside intervention.
“That’s atrocious,” Cha Ming said hoarsely. “And the Church of Justice is fine with it?”
“Officially, they don’t do it in the North and focus on their soul communion and assassination businesses,” Wang Jun said. “Their contract business isn’t very popular in the North since the Church of Justice officiates most documents here. The Spirit Temple does a damn good job of convincing the Church of Justice they don’t trade in souls in the North, so they’re left alone.
“Regardless, they’ve been culling souls in secret over the past ten years. Wang Ling has been facilitating shipments for tens of thousands of souls. I’d love to expose him, but my entire family would get caught up in an inquisition. I’m in a very delicate position, and the Church of Justice isn’t exactly on good terms with me.”
“Then what can I do for you?” Cha Ming said. “You’d be hard-pressed to find a better formation artist, talisman artist, or alchemist on the plane.”
“If making money was all it took,” Wang Jun said, “I’d have already solved the problem.”
Cha Ming nodded. “Not only do you need to win this competition, but you need to disentangle your family and the Spirit Temple.”
“And I’d prefer to do it without a mass slaughter,” Wang Jun said. “I can definitely identify those responsible—and trust me, I’ll be doing my best to give them an untimely ending—but that’s not enough. I need the Spirit Temple to be enemies with my family. Only with open hostilities between our two organizations will the Church of Justice be convinced of our sincerity after this is all over.”
“Can’t I just destroy the Spirit Temple in Gold Leaf City?” Cha Ming asked. “I doubt their transcendents could do much about it. Besides, we’re in the North.”
“You make it sound so easy,” Wang Jun said in bemusement. “You and Huxian wouldn’t be at risk. Neither would I. You have a transcendent soul, so you’d be immune to most of their attacks, while Huxian is a Godbeast. I could hide indefinitely from them. But tell me, what about the people we know? Our roots? It wouldn’t take much for them to find out where you’ve been, where you’re from, and who you know. They’re assassins, Cha Ming, and there’s a good reason the Church of Justice hasn’t uprooted them. More to the point, you’d have trouble seeing most of them. Your strong soul will help, but many would still escape your detection.”
Cha Ming clicked his tongue. “That’s quite the problem.”
“Yes, and it’s not one that can be solved in Gold Leaf City,” Wang Jun said. “Which is why I want you to go south of the border.”
“Wait, what?” Cha Ming said. He’d expected something in their area of influence. But in the South? How could he possibly do anything there undetected?
“We have an unofficial family branch in the Shattered Lands,” Wang Jun explained. “It’s run by my brother Wang Qian and makes him quite a bit of illicit money.”
“So, instead of destroying your family’s relationship in the North, you want to do it in the South,” Cha Ming said slowly. “I’m not sure I’m the right man for the job.”
“Oh, I think you’re exactly the man I’m looking for,” Wang Jun said. “My teacher spoke quite favorably of the technique you practice, the Seventy-Two Earthly Transformations. It seems a monkey used it to cause quite a bit of chaos in the Seven Heavens and the Seven Hells.”
He’s right, Sun Wukong sent from within the Clear Sky World. If you want to hide, I can teach you. I’m the best at hiding.
Except for your tail, Cha Ming muttered.
Wait, how did you know that? Sun Wukong said. He coughed in embarrassment. I fixed that problem aeons ago. It won’t be an issue.
“I take it you have a plan?” Cha Ming asked Wang Jun.
“Yes, as a matter a fact, I do,” Wang Jun said. “I don’t know who exactly is working there, as many people are running interference, but I have it on good authority that our family is helping the South develop a special weapon in the Shattered Lands. I want you to pose as a spiritual blacksmith and somehow enter our Wang family. Then, I want you to use this identity to sow conflict and discord between our family and the various factions in Bastion, the capital city of the Ji Kingdom.”
He summoned a black folder and placed it in front of Cha Ming. Cha Ming perused its contents, then summoned Grandmist flames to annihilate the papers after memorizing them.
“All right, I’ll do it,” Cha Ming said. Then he noticed something in the information he’d just read. “The most concentrated source of gold energy on the plane? High possibility of forming Gold Source Marrow?”
“You’re welcome,” Wang Jun said. “You can look for the Gold Source Marrow while sowing chaos in the South. Besides, I heard that whatever they’re building, it’s Zhou Li’s pet project. He cares a lot about its success.”
“Then I can’t let it go as planned,” Cha Ming said. He held up his cup of tea. “To our success.”
“To our success,” Wang Jun said. They clinked cups and drank. “Now, let’s stop talking business. Let’s talk about life, adventure, and the future.”
They switched to wine, and the rest of the evening was a blur.
Chapter 3: Shadow Fate Redemption
“How much did I drink?” Wang Jun muttered, looking around blearily, his memories returning to him. He closed his eyes and circulated his qi, purging the alcohol from his system. Dozens of bottles littered the floor, some of them weaker immortal wine, others god-slaying whisky, a potent drink from Haijing City.
I let myself get carried away, he thought, shaking his head. He summoned a portal in the shadows. Then, on second thought, closed it. Instead of going back to the Jade Bamboo Pavilion, he slunk through the shadows of the Red Dust Pavilion, carefully skirting around the few customers that had trickled in and the mistresses entertaining them.
In one room, he saw dozens of sixteen-year-old girls. Each of them was a talent in one art or another and had above-average cultivation talent. They laughed and sang as they learned instruments and learned to kindle each other’s emotions.
They all look happy, Wang Jun thought as he watched them practice. They all want to be here. Though many of them bore signs of past poverty, very little of it remained. This stood in stark contrast to the tale of horror and blood Hong Xin had told him about. Many of her sisters had died undergoing cruel training, freezing their hearts and emotions as quickly as humanly possible.
After spectating for a short while, Wang Jun walked through several walls before arriving in the larder, where he grabbed a piece of sausage to eat. Then, he walked into the kitchen. The cooks were busy preparing dish after dish of spirit-infused food for the evening crowd. Spirit chefs worked in tandem with mortals to cook delicacies common people could only dream of. They didn’t see him as he walked, sampling easy-to-nab goods. The ache in his stomach from all the drinking eased with every bite he took.
He shifted again, this time appearing in a shadow behind the curtains in Hong Xin’s office. She was
busy looking over ledgers. She looked up briefly as he entered, surprising Wang Jun. Could she spot him, despite being hidden from everyone else?
“You can come out now,” Hong Xin said. She smiled as Wang Jun walked out from behind him, shaking his head in disappointment.
“How did you know I was there?” Wang Jun asked.
“Women’s intuition,” Hong Xin said. “That, and you walked out from your hiding place to confirm it. It turns out I’m right about half the time.”
“A very useful trick,” Wang Jun said. “I should try it one day.”
She chuckled but continued looking over the document in her hands. She stamped it as reviewed and put it off to the side. “You try your best not to stand out. Sometimes that’s just as telling as doing the opposite. The essence of blending in is drawing just enough attention to seem normal but too little to seem unimportant, is it not?”
“True,” Wang Jun said from beside her. She jumped at his sudden teleportation but took it in stride.
“That’s new,” Hong Xin said, raising an eyebrow.
“I’ve been learning much from my master,” Wang Jun admitted. “There are limits to mortality, but certain rules can be bent or ignored entirely if you know the secret.”
Hong Xin sighed. She lifted her hand to Wang Jun’s long white-blond hair and ran her fingers down it. As she did so, he stroked her cheek and pressed a soft kiss on her outstretched lips. “Why the spying?” Hong Xin asked.
“What, I’m not allowed to come watch you work?” Wang Jun said. “I’m wounded. Now tell me, what’s bothering my fair lady?”
Hong Xin hesitated, then tapped a stack of papers. “We have a few dozen sisters from the old administration remaining in the city. They were each attached to various noble households, but recently, they founded their own organization—the Icy Heart Pavilion.”
Wang Jun nodded.
“They offer services that calm the mind and soothe heart demons. They also gather information like we do here. In addition, they also train their members for combat. Many of them are versatile bodyguards. It’s eating into our bottom line, and they aren’t being even slightly unethical.
“Furthermore,” she said, summoning a pile of jade slips, “from what I’ve gathered from the Greenwind Pavilion, though many have done a few ethically dubious things, they’ve never committed outright crimes. There are no cases of outright murder, nor any cases of fraud.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Wang Jun asked.
“The problem,” Hong Xin said. “Is that they’re cold-hearted psychopaths. And they’re training others to be the same.”
“It’s a common problem,” Wang Jun said. “At least a third of the high-ranking executives in Gold Leaf City have this trait. As do one in fifty normal people.”
“Fair enough,” Hong Xin said. “I’m just concerned. What if they do something terrible, like those sold to the Spirit Temple did? I know anyone could do it, but isn’t it much more likely in their case?”
“Then we should preemptively arrest every cultivator in the world,” Wang Jun said, sitting down on a chair beside her desk. “For I can hardly think of anyone better equipped to commit crimes.”
Hong Xin shot him an irritated glare. “Perhaps I just don’t approve of the way they’re training their new recruits. They’re helpless girls who don’t know any better. They take them and break them just like they did to us. They have them sign contracts that effectively make them indentured servants until their training is over. I’ve been through what those girls are going through, Wang Jun, and it’s not pretty. Many of us died back then. I’ll not have any more helpless women subjected to brutal torture.”
Wang Jun remained silent for a moment. “Is that a decision you can make for them? Can you deprive them of that choice?”
“I just don’t know,” Hong Xin moaned helplessly. “But heavens know I want to.”
He nodded in understanding. “Morality can be gray sometimes. In most cases, there is no right or wrong answer. What matters is whether you’re willing to do what it takes to get what you want.”
Hong Xin frowned. “That’s new. More teachings from your mysterious master?”
Wang Jun coughed lightly. “More something I heard in passing.”
Hong Xin shook her head. “I’d love to entertain you, but I should get back to work. I have many things to look over before the evening rush.”
The sky was dark, and it was just after dinnertime. There were still many hours left in the night.
“I’ll come to visit soon,” Wang Jun said into her ear. He moved to leave, then hesitated. “Why don’t you want Cha Ming to know about you? He’s worried sick, you know. He blames himself.”
Hong Xin pursed her lips. “I don’t think he needs to know what I’ve been through, or what I’ve become.”
“A powerful, independent woman?” Wang Jun asked.
“A frightened but dangerous lady, who lives on lies and playing with the hearts of men,” Hong Xin said. “He doesn’t need to know that or the dangers I’m facing. He’ll butt right into them and meddle in my affairs. Besides, you have no right to talk. You left out quite a few details yourself.” She sighed. “I may have had Mistress Huang report to me after your meeting.”
“He’s always been an idealist,” Wang Jun admitted. “Though, he’ll hardly be pure after he does what I’ve asked him to do.”
“Destroy a bunch of bad guys and upset them?” Hong Xin asked.
“Lie, hide, and instigate,” Wang Jun said. “These three things go against his character, and I’m truly not sure if he’ll follow through with them. If he can’t, such is life. I can’t do it myself, and none of my people are capable of accomplishing it.”
“Lying and hiding seem easy enough,” Hong Xin said. “But I have issues with instigation.”
“It’s not much different than blackmail,” Wang Jun said, standing up and walking beside her. “Except with instigation, you pull the trigger instead of threatening to.” He pulled her into an embrace and kissed her cherry-red lips. He didn’t know how long the moment lasted, only that it wasn’t long enough. She pulled away from him with a conflicted look in her eyes.
“Hiding is difficult too,” Hong Xin whispered. “I have to hide, I know that, but I wish I didn’t.” She rested her hand on his chest and felt its soft heaving as he breathed.
“When I sort out things with my family, and the Spirit Temple is dealt with, you won’t have to,” Wang Jun said softly. “I’ll marry you out in the open. I’ll take you back to your family and apologize to them. We’ll live a happy life together. I promise.”
“I hope so,” Hong Xin said. She looked at the clock on the wall, then winced. “I really need to get back to work. There’s much to do, and so little time.”
He planted a kiss on her cheek. Then, when her eyes were still closed, he walked into a shadow and vanished. Hong Xin continued trudging along until the sun disappeared behind the horizon.
In most cases, there is no right or wrong answer. What matters is whether you’re willing to do what it takes to get what you want, Wang Jun thought as he flitted through shadow after shadow, killing time as the sun set on Gold Leaf City. The many shops closed one after another, carefully ushering out needy customers who refused to leave at the stated closing time. Most people returned home from work, and a minority wandered between restaurants and taverns or engaged in more secretive activities. There was little you couldn’t buy in the capital of the Golden Kingdom.
“Oh, how the rich are careful,” Wang Jun said, watching one such transaction between an older man and a woman far too young for him. His voice didn’t carry far enough to reach anyone’s ear. As he walked, his footsteps echoed strangely, the sounds shooting back at him and no one else.
He took a step, and his surroundings shifted to that of a cleaner place. It was a wealthy residential area with rows of gated mansions. Every gate had a couple of guards, and even more cultivators patrolled the streets to chase miscreants
out, redirecting them to less affluent areas.
Unlike the poorer districts in town, no garbage littered the streets. Every paving stone was perfectly clean. Those who’d built the streets had covered the gray rocks in some sort of varnish or coating. They reflected light just enough to expose the cleanliness of the rock below but not enough to blind those who walked upon them.
“Here it is,” Wang Jun said to no one in particular. “Don’t mind me. I’ll be fine on my own.” The pair of guards he spoke to didn’t hear him. One of them, however, shifted uncomfortably as Wang Jun made his way across the threshold. He took note of the man. Tomorrow, he’d have someone hire him for his own guard. After all, the man would be looking for a new job after tonight.
In the dimly lit house, a family feasted. They ate to their heart’s content as cooks slaved away in the kitchen to make dish after dish for the family of six. Zhen Fa, his mark, stood at the head of the table. He and his two eldest sons drank strong cultivator’s baiju. As was customary, they used small glasses to drink the frighteningly strong drink. It didn’t take them long for red to flow to their cheeks.
The two daughters and their mother drank nothing as they ate away at the dishes. They would likely drink tea after the meal, as many people insisted that tea and food didn’t mix. Instead, they chatted about everyday things, like gossip and the family business. Every member of the household, no matter whether they were weak or strong, young or old, was involved in running it.
Wang Jun didn’t interrupt their merry supper. He didn’t lace any of the incoming dishes with poison, nor did he intercept any of the servants as they took back partially eaten dishes to the servants’ quarters, where the family’s well-treated employees could partake in the luxurious fare. He simply watched and waited, peering into the shadows both past and present, looking for something. It was tiring work, and at one point, he suspected that he was attempting the impossible. But then he reminded himself that his master must know best. He continued to search.
“Three leads,” Wang Jun said. “Three times where he flouted the law, only to eliminate all traces of wrongdoing.”
Shattered Lands: Book 8 of Painting the Mists Page 5