She smiled. “You mean that, don’t you? You were always this way.”
Cha Ming frowned at the slight slip in her aura, but it returned to normal straightaway. What was wrong with her?
“Well,” she said, “with luck, you won’t have to. Assuming Wei Longshen builds up some courage, it shouldn’t be a problem to renew our engagement.”
“And you’ll be happy?” Cha Ming asked.
“Of course,” Mi Fei said. “Though I do admit I wouldn’t like the loss of freedom. But he treats me well, Cha Ming. He always has.”
“It’s your choice,” Cha Ming said. “Never let anyone tell you otherwise. And if your family tries to force you to do anything, just know that you have friends who are willing to back you up.”
“Thank you,” she said. She looked to Xiao Bai and nodded. “We’d best get going.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” Cha Ming said. “Apparently, Killjoy is coming back. Be combat-ready.” She smiled. “Oh, and before I forget, thank you. Thank you for saving my life.” Again.
Huxian joined him as the two ladies left. They walked a short while before Cha Ming summoned his ship. “You staying at the guard station?” Huxian asked.
Cha Ming shook his head. “Tailor shop, if that’s all right.”
Huxian nodded. “You know, you really suck at picking up women. Seemed like you were trying to chase her off.”
“Hasn’t anyone told you eavesdropping is rude?” Cha Ming asked.
“It would have been ruder to tell Xiao Bai not to listen, so instead I kept her company,” Huxian said. “How does it feel?”
“Like stabbing myself in the heart, obviously,” Cha Ming said. “But that’s life, isn’t it? I want her to be happy, Huxian. I want her to live a long life.” He hesitated. “I’m not sure what’s going to happen. Say she lives. She’s happy. She has a family. She dies, and I find her before she’s reborn again. Tell me, will Yu Wen still be there? Or will she be a completely different person?”
“I’ll ask my dad when I see him,” Huxian said. “You know, after I go back home and beat him up. We’ll be pretty powerful then. We should be able to do something.”
Cha Ming laughed. “You’re right. There’s no use worrying until we can actually act on any of this.”
They hopped in a ship and headed toward the demon sector of the city. He was tired, but it was nothing a good night’s rest wouldn’t fix.
Chapter 25: Counting Stars
It was night out, and the stars were shining. The moon was in its fullness. They were entrancing to Mi Fei, who stood there, paralyzed, pondering the deepness of her existence.
“Mi Fei, are you ready?” Wei Longshen asked. She looked to him, confused. He seemed like a remnant of a dream.
“Yes,” she lied, and took his hand. He led her to a boat and pushed them onto the Burning Lake. She followed as though in a trance, not knowing what to make of the situation.
Who am I? Mi Fei thought. Why am I here? Should she not be elsewhere? Should she not be stepping across the clouds like a kite in the wind and traveling the stars? Why was she here in this small place called Burning Lake, and why was it called the Burning Lake anyway? It wasn’t on fire. Not even close. There was no wonder in this lake save the fact that it reflected the stars. It didn’t come even remotely close to the Divine Lake of Heavenly Purification, or even the Hellish Pool of Eternal Purgatory. It was just a lake. A mortal lake.
No, that’s not me, she reminded herself. The ethereal feeling passed, and slowly but surely, she eased back into her own skin. She was here on the lake. She was Mi Fei. She was here with Brother Longshen, who was holding her a little closer than their elders might like. As he should. She was not that other person. The one who had seen those things.
“Are you all right?” Wei Longshen asked. “You look unwell. We could do this another time.” He was kind to a fault, just like he always was.
“No,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little rattled. We were attacked, after all.”
“You seem lost,” Wei Longshen said. “Like you’re stuck in a daydream.”
“It’s just one of those days,” Mi Fei said.
“If you say so,” he said, then pushed them out onto the lake. Their escort followed. Neither of their families would let them be truly alone. Not like they used to. But it was nice to be with him. It grounded her. She might not be able to tell him what was going on, but he’d help her. He always did.
She wondered about last night. Something had happened then. She’d discovered a person in what she now knew as the Space-time Camera. In the pictures that person had left behind. They had a connection. No, it was more than that. She was that person, she now knew. Or rather, she had been. Her being was flooded with memories a million years in the making. Though she remembered nothing more than the occasional snippet, each one was overwhelming. And the more she remembered, the more it changed her. It was a frightening concept.
“Do you ever think about who you are?” Mi Fei asked. “Who you were? Who you will be?”
“That’s a very deep question,” Wei Longshen said, putting down his oars. They floated on the lake beneath the now-unfamiliar starry sky. They were not the constellations she remembered. “You don’t usually ask that kind of question. What happened? Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” Mi Fei said.
“Did they do something to you? Did Cha Ming—”
“No!” she said. “No one did anything. I just saw something. Something horrifying.”
Wei Longshen relaxed. He leaned over and placed his hand on hers. She was all balled up, she noticed, with her knees to her chest and looking down and not anywhere else. She sniffed, and she realized she was crying. “You don’t need to tell me anything,” he said gently. “I’ll stop prying.”
Mi Fei looked up. She smiled then. Wei Longshen. He’d always been this way. Understanding. Always looking out for her. He might never stand up for himself, but he always there for everyone else.
Wasn’t she also that way? She had been then—back before she was betrayed. The heavenly kings and queens had plotted to— No. No, that wasn’t her. That was someone else. It was important to keep herself separate from her past life, according to Xiao Bai. She could draw from it if she needed, but not rely on it. She needed to be in control. She was Mi Fei. Xiao Bai had insisted this was the case.
“It wasn’t horrifying, actually,” Mi Fei said softly. “The thing that happened. It was… humbling.”
“Like I said, you don’t have to tell me anything,” Wei Longshen said. “We’re here to relax. To enjoy each other’s company. To see the stars.”
Mi Fei hesitated. She wanted to say something to ease his mind. Moreover, not talking about anything wasn’t very helpful in her current state. “I saw a glimpse of who I once was,” Mi Fei finally said. “In a past life. And it was humbling. Terrifying, even.” She wiped away fresh tears and looked into his eyes. “I saw the sky in all its splendor. Every constellation that ever existed. I saw the Jade Moon as it was gifted to me. I saw the Jade Emperor’s throne, and my father, who sat on it, as well as the Seven Hellish Doorways and their dark and sinful guardians.” She sniffed. “Only for a second. And only the pieces that I could understand. For how could a mere transcendent ever comprehend truths only immortals can even dream of? It was… overwhelming.”
Wei Longshen nodded slowly. “That would be overwhelming. How do you feel now?”
“You must think I’m crazy,” Mi Fei said.
He smiled. Thank heavens, he didn’t call her crazy. He just smiled. “These things happen from time to time,” he said. “Usually with monks, but it’s not unheard of.” He was being kind, she knew. He didn’t believe her, but he was unwilling to say it to her face. But she’d had to tell someone. Anyone who wasn’t Xiao Bai. Her past incarnation had spent too much time with her, and being near her would only worsen the situation for now.
And Cha Ming, she thought, shuddering. No. Don’t think about him. Don’t thi
nk a single thing about him. It was hard enough getting through that meeting, pretending nothing was happening while she was getting pulled forward and backward in time. She was Mi Fei, not Yu Wen. Yet she knew now why he’d initially refused her as part of his team. She didn’t just remind him of the woman who’d died for him; she was the woman who’d died for him. And he knew it, even if he refused to say it.
Calm down, Xiao Bai said from across their bond. I can feel your agitation. Be in the present moment. Don’t let your memories overwhelm you. It’s like growing old. Let them fade away into the background. Don’t fixate on things that hurt.
I’m Mi Fei, not Yu Wen, she told herself. I grew up in the Burning Lake Prefecture. I was the pride and joy of the Mi Clan before they cast me away. I was engaged to Wei Longshen. We were once so close and happy together. We still can be, and I’ll forget those memories that aren’t my own.
The shock should wear off soon, and the rift in the seal should mend, Xiao Bai said. It was not an easy thing to break. In another twelve hours, all should be well. Do not fall asleep. Focus on the present. But who would she be by the time the memories went away? Would she be Mi Fei or Yu Wen? A mix between the two? The weight of what she remembered frightened her, but even more frightening was the thought of losing herself.
Can’t you help me? Mi Fei asked.
No, Xiao Bai replied. I’m the last person you need to see. I’m a thing of the past, remember?
Mi Fei shuddered and realized she’d been gazing in the waters, away from Wei Longshen. He sat there patiently. Focus on the present, she told herself. “It’s funny that they need to send us an escort,” she said, looking at the ships surrounding them. There were four from each family. “They didn’t use to do that.”
“Back then, our engagement was set,” Wei Longshen said. “And they probably knew we’d done much more improper things, so they didn’t care as much.” He snorted. “Family politics and their players. I can’t stand the lot of them.”
She looked up at the moon and thought of her father. The Jade Emperor, they called him. Their eternal guardian. No, not your father, she told herself. That was Yu Wen’s father. Mi Fei’s father was the patriarch of the Mi Clan.
“Why can’t you just go against your father’s will? Why can’t you just defy him? We could just run away and be happy together.” It was an old argument but familiar ground. She knew the answer, but hearing it would ground her.
Wei Longshen could read her mood. They’d known each other a long time. “For one, respect for one’s parents is paramount. That’s a part of who I am, Mi Fei. I can’t change that.” He said her name again, and it felt wonderful to hear it.
“Don’t you think it’s frustrating?” Mi Fei asked.
“Of course it is,” Wei Longshen said. “But there is more to it than that. If we would be together, we should be together without shame. Our families should approve of us. You might be fine with running off, but I could never abandon my family. That being the case, would they not hold a grudge if we were married without permission? They would never let it go as long as we lived. I don’t think that would be fair to you.”
She found herself agreeing. Perhaps a day ago, she might have considered bearing their scorn, if only to leave her wretched family. But now? Now she remembered traveling between worlds. She’d seen wonders and tasted dishes no one in this world could ever imagine. She’d been free and unfettered, running away from devil emperors. Why should she abase herself and deal with a petty family like the Wei Clan? And this wasn’t Yu Wen thinking. This was Mi Fei. The memories were a perspective she’d never considered. Perhaps it wasn’t bad to draw from Yu Wen’s memories. Stop it, she thought. You’re doing it again. She breathed in and out. In and out.
“No, I suppose it wouldn’t,” Mi Fei said finally.
Wei Longshen smiled wistfully. “Mi Fei, I love you. I don’t think you hear that often enough these days.”
“Hardly ever at all,” Mi Fei said.
“And that’s my fault,” Wei Longshen said. “Perhaps I should push back against my family, even a little. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But I also wouldn’t ever tolerate you being mistreated. How could I allow you to suffer that indignity? Can you understand that, at least?”
For once, she did. “Do you still think it’s possible?” she asked him.
“Yes,” Wei Longshen answered. “I’ve spoken to my uncle about our conundrum. He is of the opinion that I must find a way to impress my father. I must make myself indispensable, and in turn, he will grant me more influence. I have… some ideas on how to make that happen. How effective my plan is remains to be seen.”
“I hope it works,” Mi Fei said.
“So do I,” Wei Longshen said. He looked up. “You said you remember all the stars? Why don’t you point them out to me and tell me their names and stories?”
“Xiao Bai said I should focus on the present,” Mi Fei said. “This moment will pass. I should insulate myself from those memories.”
“Ah,” Wei Longshen said. “Demons are experienced with things like memories, I suppose. Still, could you at least tell me what that one is?” He pointed.
“The crab,” she answered with a smile. “The bearer of two worlds. They seek to destroy everything around them, and in the middle, all is dust. I really don’t think we should be talking about stars.”
“Lady White seems very knowledgeable,” Wei Longshen said. “But she’s pushy. She’s not a people person. Do you know what people do when told not to think about something?”
“They think about it,” she said with resignation.
“If that’s the case, let’s focus on something meaningless,” Wei Longshen said. “The stars in the sky. We could do it all night if they let us. What’s that one?”
“That one?” Mi Fei said. “The Builder. It’s funny that you mention it. The Star-Eye Monkey Clan relies on that constellation. They have stars in their eyes. Did you know that?”
“I didn’t know the specifics,” Wei Longshen said. “Why don’t you tell me more?” He inched closer, and it was only then that she realized they were much closer together than they normally would be. The minimum one foot of separation had closed to six inches, and the distance was shrinking.
She looked on one of the boat’s benches and noticed a golden music box. “What’s that doing there?”
“It’s playing music so they can’t hear us,” Wei Longshen said. “A function I found out only recently.” He edged in closer. “Do you remember those times? We used to lie in the grass and watch the stars.” He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “Remember that time when you fell asleep on my shoulder, what led to that?”
Mi Fei flushed, but she didn’t pull back. She also leaned closer. How long had it been since the last time they’d hugged? The last time they’d kissed? Far too long. Perhaps it was about time to remedy that situation. She closed her eyes and leaned in—only to find a force obstructing them before gently but firmly pushing them apart several inches.
They both laughed, realizing why they avoided getting too personal in the first place. “Maybe we can stick to counting stars and see how late we can make them stay?” she said. “For revenge?”
They spent all night counting stars, much to the annoyance of their elders. She remembered much of the evening, but at the same time, she remembered little. Counting stars was a thing she’d done across many lifetimes. She’d done so with fathers, with lovers, with friends, and with sisters.
The evening passed, and as dawn neared, the sea of memories faded. The gaping wound closed, and Mi Fei was finally herself. She could no longer access the memories that had been peeking out. Indeed, she no longer remembered why they’d been triggered in the first place. Did it have something to do with the lady in the pictures? Those too-real pictures that were so overwhelming? She didn’t need Xiao Bai to tell her never to touch that stupid camera again.
She wondered how Cha Ming could look at those pictures. It was his so
ul-bound treasure, she supposed, so perhaps he was insulated from its effects. He was a capable man. Heroic, even. In fact, he was starting to grow on her. He was becoming less a frenemy and more a friend.
They left the lake and arrived at the Mi Clan’s estate before she knew it. Wei Longshen dropped her off under the careful watch of both their families. They were wary since their close encounter. They’d finally spent a good evening together that didn’t seem artificial or forced. Just like the good old days. Yet at the same time, she felt lost now that the moment was over. Was that all there was to life? She felt like there were many things to see out there. Things she would never get to see if they stayed together.
Maybe I should buy a camera with the merit points I get on this mission, she thought as she wandered through her family estate. A nice camera that can take pictures from several hundred meters away. Or maybe she could use a trick like Xiao Bai did to take a picture without holding it? She’d have to ask. The clever rabbit had much more experience.
It was dark out, but she knew the way. Home sweet home, she thought as she approached her courtyard. For now, at least. She cut through the training grounds and found the blade master. He was drinking wine while watching the waning moon.
“Enjoying the view, Teacher?” she asked.
He took a swig from his wine gourd. “It’s a clear night, even with our weather enchantment,” he said. “It’s not often you get to see all the details. All the tiny stars that get lost with all the bright lights in the city.” Then he looked at her and frowned. “You’ve changed. Something happened to you. Something big.”
“An attack by criminals,” Mi Fei said. “An ambush. Near-death experience.”
“Bloody guard missions are always like that,” the blade master said. “Survived a few of them. Didn’t care to take more.”
“You were once part of the Guard?” Mi Fei asked. “But your concepts… your domain…”
“Weak,” he agreed. “I know. But that’s not all there is to fighting, is there? Skill with a sword can cut across levels. With a good plan, a rune-carving cultivator could kill a rune-gathering cultivator. Or maybe that’s an exaggeration. My point is that if you train enough, you can punch above your weight. Like I do with you every time.”
Crown of the Starry Sky: Book 11 of Painting the Mists Page 44