“Unfortunately, Grand Vizier Zhou is insistent on his newest deadline,” Prince Shen said.
“How long do we have?” Tian Zhi asked.
“Six months,” Prince Shen said. “And I have a feeling he’ll move it up even further, given some other distracting events occurring in the South. There’s a problem in the northeastern provinces he’ll be coming to take care of, so I’d imagine he’ll want to see results when he comes by. For now, however, he’s in seclusion, recovering from his battle up north. From what I gather, he burnt his blood essence to constrain a powerful enemy combatant.”
“We’ll do our best to speed up the development process,” Director Yong said. “Pai Xiao, is there anything we can do for you that would speed up development?”
Cha Ming, surprised by their straightforwardness, tapped his fingers on his chin. He took a sip of tea from a cup that had been poured for him earlier by Tian Zhi, who was nervously fidgeting. Obviously their lack of progress was viewed as completely his fault. “I know it might not be proper,” Cha Ming said slowly, “but I currently don’t know what materials we have access to. Further, if inspiration hits me, I want to be able to rummage through our stock to try different things.”
“You want access to our vault?” Director Yong asked, frowning. “That’s a bit much to ask for.”
“Not unsupervised, of course,” Cha Ming said. “It would be fine if someone else was there with me.”
“Hmm…” Director Yong said, fingering his blond beard. “I don’t know about this. We have procedures and requisitions for a reason. Only a select few people are allowed inside the vault.”
“The timeline for this project is of utmost important,” Prince Shen said. “Besides, doesn’t he have confidentiality clauses in his contract, as well as enforced punishments for theft?”
“He does,” Director Yong said dryly. “But you of all people should know that contracts can sometimes be circumvented.”
Prince Shen sighed. “Do what you can. All I know is that, as my father’s heir, even I will not be able to escape the grand vizier’s fury alive. You should know what to do.”
Director Yong hesitated, then nodded. “All right. We’ll get him access. Supervised access.”
“Good enough,” Prince Shen said. “Since that’s settled, I won’t be keeping you.” He looked to Cha Ming. “Work hard. Our fate, the fate of the entire South, rests on your shoulders.”
“I’ll do my best,” Cha Ming said.
The prince left, leaving him with Tian Zhi and Director Yong.
“We’ll be off as well,” Director Yong said. “Is there anything else you need from us? Anything at all?”
“I don’t suppose coffee can be delivered to the research and development area?” Cha Ming asked.
“I’ll see what we can do,” Tian Zhi muttered. “Spirits know everyone else has been asking the same thing.”
Cha Ming smiled. Despite differences in geography and ideology, some things never changed.
Chapter 28: The Vault
“Please wait here while I retrieve the quartermaster,” an attendant said, motioning for Tian Zhi and Cha Ming to sit on a black velvet sofa in a plain waiting room. Tian Zhi grunted and took a seat. He didn’t grab any of the refreshments but sipped on his coffee like Cha Ming did. A few minutes trickled by on the clock affixed to the gray wall in an otherwise sterile building.
A tall, thin man soon entered the room. He wore black robes with silver trim, common colors in the Blackthorn Conglomerate’s headquarters. His blond hair was tied back in a tight braid, and he wore small circular spectacles. They weren’t there for mundane purposes like improving basic eyesight, however. Within their clear glass lenses, Cha Ming saw churning runes and a torrent of information. They must enhance his observation and analytical skills, he thought. He’s probably evaluating me as we speak.
“Are you sure you would like to give this man access to the vault?” the man said to Tian Zhi. He looked at Cha Ming with narrow eyes filled with suspicion. Cha Ming could practically feel the disguise named Pai Xiao peeling off him.
“He has the proper clearances,” Tian Zhi said. “And orders from Director Yong. Moreover, he’s contractually obligated to sign everything out and will be punished severely via contract should he try to steal anything. Ideally, however, I’ll be coming along with him, mostly to reassure you more than anything else. I know how much you prize your precious vault’s contents, Wang Bo.”
“My precious vault,” Wang Bo said stiffly, pushing his glasses up his nose, “is the culmination of our Wang family’s work in these parts. I will lay my life down before I let it be pilfered via negligent oversight.”
“Don’t worry,” Tian Zhi said. “If anything happens, it won’t be your head that rolls; it will be mine and the director’s.”
“Both worth a paltry sum,” Wang Bo said flatly. He shook his head and waved Cha Ming over. “Come. We’ll need to get you registered in the system.”
They walked through a rune-covered metal door. It slid open for them with a wave of Wang Bo’s hand, letting them into a long corridor. They walked a few doors down before taking the fifth door to the right, which opened in much the same way. They entered an office, complete with a desk, chairs, and a bookshelf.
“We have no custodians guarding the Ji Kingdom’s vault,” Wang Bo said, “so we need to rely on more mundane means. Give me your hand.”
Cha Ming obliged and proffered the arm that bore his contract mark. He’d been surprised by the durability of the mark—it had even regrown when he’d gotten his skin blasted off during an experiment. Wang Bo touched the mark and moved his finger farther down the wrist. He then took out a paintbrush, which glowed with jade ink.
The ink felt cold and tingly as it landed on Cha Ming’s skin. It fused with it and the image of Pai Xiao’s body in his mind. The mark was that of three jade bamboo branches, thin and hollow, but strong enough to bear much weight if required. “You get tier three clearance. Good enough for any raw materials, but you’ll need a requisition for them. Cash equivalents like liquified elemental essence or spirit stones also require special permission.”
“Is that really necessary?” Tian Zhi said. “He can technically request unlimited amounts for his experiments already.”
“Which you are responsible for controlling and requisitioning,” Wang Bo said coolly. “In this case, if he makes off with our family fortune, it will be your head on the line.”
“I thought you only cared about the vault’s safety,” Tian Zhi jibed.
“If you thought that also meant I wasn’t attached to my own life, you were mistaken,” Wang Bo said. “Well? Would you like to stay for tea and snacks? Or would you perhaps like a guided tour of this complex you’ve frequented so often?”
“We’ll pass,” Tian Zhi said. He looked at Cha Ming. “Follow me.”
They walked further down the hallway they’d come from, with Tian Zhi leading the way. His heavy footsteps echoed against the stone walls and only stopped once they reached a dull gray metal door. There was a hole in the center, barely wider than a fist.
“You’ll have to stick your arm in here,” Tian Zhi said, demonstrating for Cha Ming. He made a fist and inserted his left arm into the hole. The hole closed lightly around his arm, as though looking for something, then relaxed. Then the door opened. Cha Ming moved to walk in, but Tian Zhi stopped him. “You’ll need to do the same. Only one entry per identification. You do not want to see what happens to those who try otherwise.”
Cha Ming did as he was told. The doorway closed, its two diagonal parts forming a thin vertical line. The metal, he noticed, was several feet thick and made from a mixture of silbium, cold iron, and xanthium. It also bore traces of life-leaching gold. It would be difficult for even Cha Ming to cut through it, assuming he tried to do so wielding only a peak-core treasure.
He stuck his left arm into the hole, which closed around it. To his surprise, he felt a small stab against his skin and a slight n
umbing sensation. Simultaneously, light traveled the length of his arm until it found his mark. When it did, the prickling faded, and the door released him. He caught a glimpse of the retracting mechanism as the door opened.
There are needles of life-leaching iron worked into the door, he thought. If unauthorized personnel tried to do what I did, they would die before they knew what hit them. A body cultivator like him wouldn’t be so easy to dispatch, of course. He was sure he’d last at least ten seconds.
After passing through the first door, he saw a second one. This one opened automatically. It was as strong as the one before, and if the runic patterns running through the walls were any indication, it was linked to the other door. More likely than not, it had a fail-close mechanism. If the door before it was damaged, it would slam shut to buy time for the conglomerate’s security forces to arrive. It also served a good second layer of defense against explosions.
“Well?” Tian Zhi said, holding his hands up to the shelves around him. “What do you think?”
Cha Ming looked around the room, his mouth agape. It wasn’t the wealth contained within that amazed him but the sheer size of the place. The inside of the storage room was ten times larger than it seemed on the outside.
“A spatial expansion formation,” Cha Ming said, tracing the runic lines on the walls and floor of the chamber. “Displays like these make me wish my affinities were different.” His proficiency with five elements, though admirable, was still lacking in certain aspects. Illusions were one of those things. They came to him with great difficulty, despite his access to water qi and Huxian’s light and shadow qi. Time acceleration and freezing were nearly impossible for him, even with Huxian’s preliminary mastery over time essence.
Space was also difficult. Through light and shadow, he could imitate some things like linking points in space or bridging spatial tears. Things like spatial expansion and the crafting of spatial treasures were mostly left to people with a rare affinity to space. It was these people with mastery over spatial qi who could draw those esoteric formations that expanded and contracted reality. They were the ones who crafted storage treasures, big and small, and chambers such as these.
“It’s a work of art, that’s for certain,” Tian Zhi said. “Though I can’t say it’s the best vault I’ve seen. There’s a vault farther north at our main headquarters that’s much more impressive. It even has a custodian—a construct that obeys verbal commands and can even make decisions and keep track of the vault’s contents.”
“Farther north,” Cha Ming said, frowning. “I can’t recall any other major cities farther north. Unless you mean…” His eyes widened, and Tian Zhi grinned. “You’ve been north of the border? You’ve been to the place we’re trying to get to?”
“You were bound to find out sooner or later,” Tian Zhi said, picking up a small brick of red metal off one of the heavy metal shelves. It was purified flameweave steel, a great metal for forging thin swords. Though good for physical weapons, it was terrible for conducting flames. “Truth be told, I was born there. So was Director Yong and Wang Bo.”
Cha Ming gulped. His surprise was genuine—he’d expected only Wang Yong and Wang Bo to be from Gold Leaf City. “You mean you ran away from paradise? To join the South? Why?”
Tian Zhi shrugged. “What’s there to be surprised about? Life is hard, and it’s difficult to get ahead. Some things are just more profitable than others. And besides, the South’s going to win anyway. I’d rather be down here before the wall falls and even help push it down rather than try to hold it up. It’s an unfair world, lad, as I’m sure you know.”
“Yes, yes, I do,” Cha Ming said, his expression solemn. “And the others? He Yin? Pan Su? Shao Qiang?”
Tian Zhi laughed. “What, you think it’s easy to get people South of that dreaded wall? If it was, do you think we’d spend so much time trying to break it down?”
“I suppose not,” Cha Ming said. Still, he felt less guilty about his mission as he began looking through the many shelves, the many metals, and the many compounds. If Tian Zhi and Director Yong had betrayed the North, he didn’t much care what happened to them as a consequence of his actions. That meant he only had to figure something out for the other three.
“This crystal flower, what’s it called?” Cha Ming asked, tapping on a shelf at eye level. It was covered in a clear case, and the flames dancing about its oxygen-deprived confines were entrancing.
“It’s called crystal dragon grass,” Tian Zhi said. “We’ve had our eye on it for a while. Can you tell why?”
Cha Ming carefully removed the cover. The heat around him rose instantly, and he was forced to use both his qi and soul force to push the containment back around it. “Explosive power,” Cha Ming said. “Even without alchemical processing.” His eyes brightened. “I wonder what would happen if we alloyed it with some more combustible metals.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully.
“You madman,” Tian Zhi muttered. “Well, at least one of us needs to be mad. Take it for your experiments if you wish. I’ll mark it down.”
Cha Ming stowed it away, protective case and all. He looked past most of the objects on the shelf, as they were either mundane or not high quality enough to be workable. Whenever he saw something interesting, however, he paused to evaluate it. He didn’t take everything, of course, as that would arouse suspicion. Instead, he usually said he’d think on it and left it there for another time.
It took several hours for them to survey the entire storage room. Though he wasn’t allowed to take weapons, Tian Zhi took him around to where they were stored anyway. Cha Ming obliged him and even spent a good deal of time admiring the craftsmanship he saw.
“A good blade,” he said, nicking his finger on one of the swords. The golden blade drank his blood and glowed slightly pink. “Life Drinker. What an accurate name.”
“The amount of life-leaching gold that went into it was backbreaking,” Tian Zhi said. “Then no one wanted to buy it, because those blood masters are either too broke or too cheap. We bring it out for auction on occasion, in case anyone wants it.”
“And that?” Cha Ming asked, pointing to a familiar spear. It was black and covered in powerful white runes. The weapon was completely beyond him to craft. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder where he’d seen it before.
“That’s a different matter,” Tian Zhi said, shaking his head. “It’s said to be the spear of the Lucky Marshal, Feng Ming, in the North. Given the misfortune that accompanies it and its wielders, I’m not sure I believe it. Seems to be more unlucky than anything else.”
“Maybe it’s unlucky to his enemies,” Cha Ming said, nodding. No wonder it seemed familiar.
“At first, we were going to give it to Grand Vizier Zhou as a gift,” Tian Zhi said. “But then we decided to give him something different. We’re giving this one to the Ji royal family to increase the kingdom’s morale.”
“What could possibly be worth more than an enemy leader’s transcendent treasure?” Cha Ming asked. He trembled inwardly. There was only one thing he could think of that fit the bill.
“Hmm…” Tian Zhi said. “Come here, let me show you something.”
Cha Ming followed the older researcher to the back of the room. They passed the few materials he hadn’t yet seen, each one more expensive than the last. He realized, Tian Zhi had likely kept this place for last. It was better to let him experiment with cheaper materials first and proceed to pricier ones as time progressed.
Tian Zhi didn’t give Cha Ming time to inspect those materials. Instead, he led him to a mostly empty shelf in the back. There, on a pedestal and inside a clear case, was a golden globe, its core filled with a viscous liquid that shone brighter than the sun.
There it is, Cha Ming thought. Gold Essence Core and Gold Source Marrow. It was the last piece of the puzzle, the one thing he needed to transcend as a body cultivator, assuming the Seventy-Two Transformations Technique didn’t let him down.
“It looks impressive, but I do
n’t know what you can use it for,” Tian Zhi said. “Perhaps a power core?”
“It might be useful to fuel a sharp weapon,” Cha Ming suggested. “Perhaps even the Breaker.” If all it took was one failed experiment to cover up the theft, he would happily take the blame.
“Bah,” Tian Zhi said. “That’d be a waste. Especially considering Grand Vizier Zhou alerted everyone in the South to keep an eye out for it. He wants it for some reason, and the reward he’s posted is higher than what he’s paying for the Breaker.”
“And you’re going to give it to him?” Cha Ming asked incredulously. It seemed like a pretty terrible business move. This was the Wang family headquarters, after all.
“Coal in the winter is worth its weight in gold,” Tian Zhi said. “It follows then that the surprise acquisition of a valuable treasure is worth so much more to a man who’s recently suffered a devastating loss. This reward was posted two years ago, when Grand Vizier Zhou was at the peak of his power. But recently, I’ve heard rumors that a ploy involving Haijing and Beihai City has completely collapsed. Grand Vizier Zhou came back heavily wounded and in a terrible mood. He’s put a lot of pressure on everyone to succeed.”
He tapped on the black case. “This gem here is either for insurance if we screw up, or frosting on the cake if we succeed. If we fail in developing the Breaker, we might be able to assuage his rage by gifting him this gem. And if we succeed, well…” His eyes glittered. “Let’s just say we’ll be so favored we’ll never want for anything ever again.”
Cha Ming licked his lips, only partially feigning greed. Though he was deep in enemy territory, should he choose to, he could steal the Gold Source Marrow right here and now. There was little anyone could do to stop him. He could even rob the Wang family’s vault while he was at it before fleeing. He thought better of it, however. While doing so would further his own personal goals, they would destroy his chances of incriminating the Wang family. He’d ruin them, of course, but ruining was far from pitting them against the South. Especially since they’d committed so many resources toward ingratiating themselves with the enemy.
Shattered Lands: Book 8 of Painting the Mists Page 33