There had been no need to ask the Greenwind Pavilion for this information. Everyone knew about the fraud, and Zhen Fa had even insinuated his guilt at the many banquets and gatherings he’d attended. Unfortunately for the authorities, no one had any concrete proof of wrongdoing, no smoking talisman or even a starting point for an investigation. Today, Wang Jun would fix that.
Peering into the shadows, he investigated the most recent misdemeanor. Events flashed before his eyes like an ultra-fast record, and each image was covered in countless shadowy strings. He searched for quite some time before confirming, unfortunately, that Zhen Fa wasn’t guilty after all. Surprisingly, he wasn’t responsible for the crime he’d practically admitted to doing.
Undeterred, Wang Jun continued his search. The second set of images, nonsensical to even him, was more jumbled than the first, likely due to the amount of time that had passed. In this case, a moderately wealthy family had accused Zhen Fa of forcefully appropriating assets by confiscating documents and having them retroactively changed. Once again, he found no evidence. The story was apparently a complete fabrication by a rival, one that the Zhen family hadn’t even bothered trying to suppress.
Third time’s the charm, Wang Jun thought. He dove into the final bundle of dark, shadowy strings he’d summoned. This time, he found what he was looking for. It was a simple letter, but the letter was particularly damning. It was a written request to the Spirit Temple for an assassination. Normally, this wouldn’t have been a big deal, but in this case, the request was to assassinate the head of a clergyman’s household. Apparently, the clergyman wasn’t on good terms with Zhen Fa and had repeatedly rebuffed his attempts to obtain mining permits. After years of back and forth, Zhen Fa had paid for his death.
The Church of Justice had investigated the case. But even with their wonderful powers of investigation, they had failed to find any solid evidence of wrongdoing. According to their rules, that meant they couldn’t prosecute. As such, Zhen Fa had gotten off easily. His success had propelled him to the head of the main Zhen family, which boasted twenty successful subsidiary households and substantial assets in Gold Leaf City.
Having found what he was looking for, Wang Jun tugged on the string connected to the shadowy letter, and the object appeared in his hands. It wasn’t enough, so he reached deeper until he found a few more strings associated with other documents. They were financial documents that traced the specific transactions. He pulled again, and a dozen or so strings reached across space and time, as fate wasn’t restricted by things like time or place. These things weren’t part of the current timeline, and all that remained were memories, or shadows of them.
Wang Jun took those shadows. They floated in the air before him, perfect replicas of things that once had been. He breathed in, then blew out a cloud of thick black smoke. It poured into the objects, which solidified. Their emptiness filled in with color, substance, and karmic attachment. The items, which had been destroyed to cover up any evidence, were whole once again.
Task completed, Wang Jun took a step forward and walked into a shadowy room at the top of the mansion. There, he found Zhen Fa’s wife fast asleep. The family leader was in his study, busily working away at a business plan for a new mine. Wang Jun cleared his throat, and this time, he allowed the man to hear it.
Zhen Fa looked up with a start. He frowned when he saw Wang Jun’s shadowy figure, whose features were completely obscured. “Who are you?” he asked. “How did you get here?” He summoned a spirit sword. The silver blade was an initial-core treasure, a fine weapon for fighting off a typical nighttime invader.
“Relax,” Wang Jun said. “Sit down.” Then, seeing that the man wasn’t going to play along, he pointed his finger downward. Shadowy tethers wrapped around the man and forced him back into his chair.
“Guards!” Zhen Fa shouted. “Guards!” He looked around worriedly, as neither his wife nor the guards showed any signs of responding.
“They can’t hear us,” Wang Jun said. “But don’t worry, I won’t be here long. I just wanted to have a nice chat with you in private. It wouldn’t be good for either of us if this conversation leaked out.”
Zhen Fa struggled for a few moments, unleashing his power as an initial-core-formation cultivator to struggle against his bonds. The shadows surrounding him held fast. “What do you want?”
“I came across some interesting things lately,” Wang Jun said. “Exhibit A is a letter I’m sure you’re familiar with.” He tossed an envelope to the man, who opened it slowly and gasped as he saw the contents.
“How could you possibly have this?” Zhen Fa said hoarsely.
“Money can accomplish many things,” Wang Jun said. “Here’s another.”
He tossed him a black ledger containing transaction records from the same time period. The man’s eyes widened as he realized what the documents detailed.
“Oh, and I almost forgot.” This time, he walked up to the man. Three glowing blue gems showed different records of a cloaked, semitransparent assassin entering his victim’s household. They detailed his journey through each stage of the murder, ending with the assassin retrieving the gems. The same gems he’d given to Zhen Fa to prove the murder had been completed as requested.
The final item was a letter from the Spirit Temple confirming the deed had been done. “I burned this!” Zhen Fa exclaimed. “I crushed those! How can you possibly have them?” By now, all color had left his face, and his hands were trembling. He was livid, unable to calm himself. “Who are you?”
“Who I am doesn’t matter,” Wang Jun said, scooping up the items. “What you need to know is that I have these and could easily restart the inquiry. The penalty for having a clergyman assassinated is quite steep. I’m sure you’d rather avoid it.”
Zhen Fa’s shoulders slumped. “What do you want me to do?” he asked.
“I want you to cancel your weapons-purchasing contract with the Wang family,” Wang Jun said. “Then, I want you to engage in negotiations with the Brightmoon Trading Group and the Long family. Negotiate hard, but ultimately, award a sole-source contract to the Long family.”
Zhen Fa frowned. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Wang Jun said. “As the owner of one of the continent’s largest mining companies, you spend a substantial amount of money arming both your guards and your miners. The profits involved are substantial.”
“And you’ll give me the evidence?” Zhen Fa asked.
“No,” Wang Jun replied. “That, I’ll be keeping safely. It’s worth far more than a simple trade contract.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Zhen Fa said. “How do I know you won’t just come back and threaten me again?”
“You don’t,” Wang Jun said. “But you’re hardly in a position to bargain.” He bowed a deep, mocking bow before turning around and stepping into the shadows. “I look forward to hearing the good news, Zhen Fa,” his voice called out as the shadows receded.
A few minutes later, Wang Jun sat inside his room, panting heavily. The ability he’d used, Shadow Fate Redemption, was a draining one. By using the powers of shadow and fate, he’d retrieved objects that had been lost to all but memory, regardless of whether they’d been destroyed. Space and time might have lost them, but shadows remembered. By tapping into the imprint these objects had left in the shadow plane, he’d created identical copies of them.
It wouldn’t work for everything, of course. Living things were impossible to retrieve in this way, and anything stronger than a spirit treasure was too powerful to copy for him. But simple things like papers and low-level recording orbs? A piece of cake. Or at least it would be, once he’d completely mastered the ability.
“Was I right to threaten him like that?” Wang Jun said. “Even though he was a bad man?”
His master, Daoist Obscurus, appeared on a chair inside his room. He was reading a book with black pages and shadowy writing. He flipped a page, which let out an inaudible rustle. “It’s not like he didn’t do anything wrong,�
�� the dark man said. “Shadow Fate Redemption only works with real things. He did something, and it’s come to bite him back.”
“I’m hardly suited to dispensing justice,” Wang Jun said.
“This has nothing to do with justice,” Daoist Obscurus said, closing the book in a silent paff. “We’re using information to get something done. You asked if you were wrong to threaten him, and the fact stands that he deserved to be punished. Therefore, why bother with silly things like whether he deserved to be punished by you or the clergy? Isn’t it good enough that you did what you did, and he’s hardly undeserving?”
“But—” Wang Jun started.
“Enough,” Daoist Obscurus said. It was difficult to disobey such a direct command. “Do you want me to teach you or not? If yes, shut up and do what I tell you. If not, just say the word, and I’ll leave with not another peep. Are we clear?”
Wang Jun took in a deep breath, then breathed out slowly. “Yes, we’re clear.”
“Excellent,” the man said. “Now rest up. We’ll have many busy days ahead of us. That man wasn’t the only one in this city keeping a secret. We’ll tackle them one by one, and soon, every corrupt man in the Golden Kingdom will be dancing in the palm of your hand.”
Wang Jun closed his eyes. He thought about what he’d done, and though it didn’t feel terrible, it was a dull ache that kept prodding his sensibilities.
You’re just learning, he told himself. You did nothing wrong. The man deserved it. You did nothing wrong. He repeated these words like a mantra as his energy stores replenished.
Finally, once the last of his exhaustion left him, he realized how childish he had been. Who on this plane was perfect? Who didn’t do morally questionable things? Sometimes there was no right or wrong answer. What mattered was whether you were willing to do what it took to get what you wanted.
Chapter 4: Initiation
Small drops of water formed on Cha Ming’s skin as Silverwing descended through the clouds, revealing lush greenery with a large neighboring city. This expanse of wilderness, filled with both humans and demons, was the Evergreen Battlefield, one of the few areas along the North-South border with ongoing skirmishes.
Despite the area being mostly jungle, large mounds that resembled small mountains jutted up from the earth. They weren’t rocky like proper mountains; instead, they were covered in greenery, lakes, and bogs. Human combatants roamed these lands, making careful use of the hazardous—and often poisonous—terrain to launch ambushes or fortify their positions. They largely avoided dense demon populations, who had no interest in petty squabbles between good and evil.
Silverwing landed just outside a military encampment located on the north edge of the jungle. “Looks like this is my stop,” Cha Ming said to Huxian, hopping off the large bird’s back.
And mine as well! Gua said, hopping off with him. Huxian, Lei Jiang, and the mist that was Mr. Mountain remained on the large falcon’s back.
We’ll be in the North in one demonic territory or another, Huxian said. We’ll need to find a place with dense natural energy for each of us if we want to reach the initiation realm.
“Initiation?” Cha Ming asked. “Like a senior initiating a junior?”
Something like that, Huxian said. Demons are of nature, so it is nature itself that must initiate. By occupying a location with dense demonic energy like this one, a demon can draw the power into himself and condense an initiation mark.
“Take care out there,” Cha Ming said, waving. He wasn’t worried for the fox’s safety, since there were few creatures on the plane that could cause him problems.
Will do, Huxian said,
“Let me know if you need anything,” Cha Ming said. “I’ll drop everything to come help you if you need it.”
Same, Huxian said. He hesitated, then leaned in. You should know something, Cha Ming. There’s something happening out there, something wrong.
“Like a world war?” Cha Ming asked, perplexed.
Worse, Huxian said grimly. He looked to Silverwing and the others, who nodded back. Even the joker Lei Jiang didn’t offer a hint of a smile. We’ve started losing dominion over some demons, he continued. Inexplicably, and uncontested. There’s only one explanation for that: They were killed. Many tens of thousands over a short period of time.
I’ve also lost influence over my demonic mountain west of the Song Kingdom, Silverwing squawked. No one replaced me. It’s like the demonic energy just vanished. Things like that don’t just happen overnight.
Cha Ming frowned. “Could it all be a coincidence?”
Maybe, Huxian said reluctantly. But do you remember that time near Westvale Wall where Wang Jun warned us not to go further?
Cha Ming nodded.
Well, I scouted further. I didn’t like what I saw there. If I’m right… Well, let’s just say it doesn’t matter who wins the war.
“What was it?” Cha Ming asked.
It doesn’t help if you know, Huxian said. Its name is meaningless. Just know this: If you ever see a creature of darkness covered in horns, a creature that is unkillable and swallows all, don’t fight it. You can’t kill it, and it will never stop. Run like your life depends on it and hope someone stronger takes care of it. As mortals, we don’t stand a chance.
Dramatic message delivered, Silverwing flapped his massive wings, propelling him and the other two far into the sky.
Hopefully it’s nothing, Cha Ming thought. He shook his head and looked to the south. Another wave of fighters was rushing into the battlefield. Cha Ming looked to Gua and summoned 720 sigils of various elements, which shifted into a concealment formation like the one he’d used on Jade Moon Planet. The man and the demon flew into the humid jungle, and Cha Ming ignored the foreboding feeling that gnawed at the back of his mind.
I’ll be entering demon territory here, Gua said. They’d reached the center of the Evergreen Battlefield. Here, there were demons aplenty. A poisonous bog covered ten square miles to the west. I’ll be fine, but an ugly human like you would get attacked on sight.
I think your sense of aesthetics needs work, Cha Ming said dryly, noticing a wart-covered serpent slithering in the brush beside them.
I think your face needs work, Gua said.
Cha Ming was about to retort, but then he noticed something on Gua he hadn’t seen before: lipstick. Did the demon really care about his appearance?
Take care, and don’t die, Gua continued. Huxian would be sad if you did.
Violet demonic energy oozed out of the ground. It turned brown and murky as it surrounded the toad, then melted back into the soggy earth below with Gua in tow.
I wonder how Huxian deals with that narcissist? Cha Ming wondered to himself. As he walked farther south, he took careful note of both the plants that surrounded him and the demons that lurked about. Now and again, he discovered shallow bodies of water covered in thick carpets of leaves and dirt. Anyone unfortunate enough to step there, whether demon or human, would sink into a poisonous trap where thousands of tiny demons waited.
You know, this concealment formation is good and all, Sun Wukong said from inside the Clear Sky World, but you’re missing out on some prime training time. His spirit appeared beside Cha Ming. The red-bearded man, who now wore a red tail and a thin silver crown, walked through the jungle, expertly avoiding trees and branches as they zoomed past them.
You mean the Seventy-Two Transformations Technique? Cha Ming asked. How in the heavens did Wang Jun find out about it?
Sun Wukong shrugged. No point in worrying about it. He said it was his master who told him, though I’m a bit skeptical but curious about that. I’ve only revealed my power two times on this plane. The first time was to help you with the lightning tribulation, and the second time was to forge the Nirvana Pill. Not many people were present for these events. Perhaps only the old Sea God Emperor would have understood the significance of my crown and tail. As for that Protector Song, he wouldn’t have spotted the truth even if it smacked him in the face. Not
that it matters, since he’s dead now.
Could someone have watched in secret? Cha Ming asked.
That’s the only way, Sun Wukong said. But that worries me. A mere transcendent shouldn’t have been able to spy on me. Then again, an immortal shouldn’t have been able to either.
Why not? Cha Ming asked. Immortals, along with gods, were the strongest beings in existence. If they couldn’t detect Sun Wukong, didn’t that mean he surpassed them?
Because immortals are too powerful for a small plane like this, Sun Wukong explained. If an immortal tried to enter the plane, the plane’s will would reject his or her entry. If they tried to enter forcefully, the plane’s will wouldn’t sit still and would use all its power to force him out, even if that meant wiping out every living thing inside it. Even the slightest leak of immortal power would destabilize the plane. Not many people have the ability to completely hide themselves like that. I doubt even the Jade Emperor could do it.
Then it’s as you said—there’s no use worrying about it, Cha Ming said, nodding. We can’t stop anyone that powerful from doing anything to us, so we might as well focus on things that we can affect. Like practicing.
Like practicing, Sun Wukong agreed. Now show me what you can do.
Cha Ming hesitated, but he obliged. He contorted his facial features to match Wang Jun’s. At the same time, he changed his height, the color of his skin, his hair, and his eyes. In mere seconds, he was the spitting image of the second young master of the Wang family.
You’re still missing something, Sun Wukong said, carefully inspecting his disguise. Aura.
Aura? Cha Ming asked.
You’ve changed your body, Sun Wukong explained. Now you need to change the aura you release from your cultivation and your soul.
He tapped Cha Ming’s forehead and transmitted a simple creation-qi technique. The technique was easy to understand, so Cha Ming immediately flooded his qi pathways with potent creation qi according to the technique and emulated the feel of Wang Jun’s qi. The aura around him darkened, but something still seemed off.
Shattered Lands: Book 8 of Painting the Mists Page 6