Kindling, page 43
part #6 of Painting the Mists Series
“They’re just weapons,” Hong Xin said. “I know better than anyone that each of us is a living weapon. We don’t need these tools to take down our opponents.”
Her dance intensified as flames poured out from her. They crashed against the mistresses, who hastily used their weapons to deflect them. Fire and ice rained down on the merciless teachers, causing some of them to cry out as they were burned black. Then, Hong Xin flew up to the headmistress. A fiery dragon appeared on her fist and crashed into a shield of ice.
“You think you can win?” the headmistress said. “You think you can fight against us on our home turf?”
Suddenly the Red Dust Pavilion glowed with an ominous crimson light. The many trees covered in crimson leaves year-round shone brightly with strange runic characters. They joined together in a runic pattern, causing the mistresses to grow in power.
“Everyone, fight!” Hong Xin said. “Fight for your life!”
As she renewed her assault, she directed their joint power of kindling to a nearby teacher. Her kindling powers wormed their way into the icy teacher’s mind and sought for a modicum of resistance but found none.
How can this be? she thought. She tried another teacher but failed once more. Do they truly not wish to be free?
She tried each teacher, one after another, in quick succession. One by one, she found not a shred of resistance. Before long, only the headmistress and Mistress Huang remained.
Here goes nothing, she thought as she probed Mistress Huang. To her surprise, she didn’t resist. The power of kindling poured into her tormentor’s core, causing its outer layer to crumble. Finally, a large purple flame at the center flickered to life. The ice that once pervaded it melted and fused with it, causing her core to turn into a harmonized purple core of ice and fire like Hong Xin’s gold-and-purple one.
Despite this change, Mistress Huang didn’t act. She continued fighting against the students like nothing had happened, allowing the headmistress to close in on Hong Xin. Fire and ice clashed briefly as the headmistress used her superior strength to press against Hong Xin’s protective shield of fire.
Frozen spikes jutted out of the earth, impaling the protective phoenixes floating around the younger girl. The headmistress thrust her hand out and grasped Hong Xin by the neck, causing vivid blue runes of restriction to form on her fragile body.
“You gave it a good shot, but you’re still two hundred years early,” the headmistress said. “It’s a pity you didn’t pick better companions. If they hadn’t betrayed you, you might have grown into a real threat.”
“That’s the thing about trust,” Hong Xin croaked. “To make friends or lasting partners, you need to take a gamble. Otherwise, they’re nothing but slaves.”
“Slaves listen,” the headmistress shot back.
“Slaves will stab you in the back as soon as they have the slightest opportunity,” Hong Xin said. She grinned as a blue sword pierced out of the headmistress’s chest and twisted.
The cold woman turned her head around slowly until she came face to face with her killer, Mistress Huang. She died with a shocked expression on her face. The thought of her best student betraying her had never crossed her mind.
All around them, the fighting stopped. The teachers, seeing that their master had perished, no longer put up any resistance. The chaos was instantly quelled, and the students rounded up the sullen teachers, who seemed to have given up on everything, including living.
“It’s about time you took the hint,” Mistress Huang said dryly.
“I was being cautious,” Hong Xin said. “Besides, you made it rather difficult for me to believe you. Something about stabbing cold needles in someone’s heart makes it very difficult for them to trust you from then on.”
“You think I did all that to follow orders?” Mistress Huang said. “I did it hoping that you’d succeed where I failed. And it seems my gamble paid off.”
Hong Xin kneeled down and retrieved the headmistress’s bag of holding. She glanced inside it before confirming that the Oath Stone was still intact. Then she looked at the crowd of weeping students. They hugged the cold bodies of their fallen sisters and mourned those who hadn’t even lived to see this day.
She sighed before walking over to a nearby group of students to direct them. There was a lot of work to be done, and someone had to step up and face the many challenges ahead of them.
Cha Ming wiped the tears from his eyes as he read Yu Wen’s letter on the space-time camera again. Although it pained him to do so, this time he read the words out loud. Huxian listened intently to its brief but heartfelt contents.
Dearest Cha Ming,
This might come as a surprise to you, but I’ve known for a long time that I would likely die on Jade Moon Planet. I’m prophetic, you see, and as we grew closer and closer, my choice became a lot easier. If it was between me and the other cultivators on the planet, I’d choose myself in a heartbeat. But with you, it’s not so simple. Cha Ming, I love you. And when you love someone, you jump out to save them, even though you’re certain to die in the process.
By now, you’ve likely finished looking through the first set of pictures in my camera. You feel sad and lost, like life isn’t worth living anymore. But let me tell you, even though I knew I would die because of it, I never felt more alive than when I was with you. When you look through these pictures, I want you to remember what we had. I want you to keep me in your heart and remember that this sadness comes from happiness. The root of your grief is joy, and the reverse can also be true. You can rise from this sadness stronger than ever. It can be the spark that sets it off for you, the drive you’ve been seeking your entire life.
I know you’ll have trouble moving on, and I can’t make that easier. I also know there’s no guarantee you’ll find someone else. Therefore, I’ll settle for a smaller goal. Once you’re done reading this letter, I want you to promise me to look through these pictures again. I want you to ignore the sadness and remember the happiness you see. And then I want you to keep looking through the rest of the album—there are a few pictures I never showed you. I promise that you’ll feel better once you’ve seen them.
That’s it. I’ve now run out of things to write. Please do me a favor and imagine all the other nice things I should say to you. You’re good at it, and I like that about you.
Love,
Yu Wen
“I can do that,” Cha Ming said, closing his tear-filled eyes. He opened them and returned to the beginning of the album. Instead of focusing on what he’d lost, he focused on what he’d gained. As he flicked through the pictures, he laughed as he remembered their playful moments. He cried tears of joy as he remembered their close encounters in the volcano and their playful game of tag with the rainbow fish.
“Is that us?” a voice said from within his Clear Sky Brush.
Unsure of how to react, Cha Ming sent his transcendent soul into the brush and saw a two-foot fish. He looked around and saw a lush garden in the formerly white space. Hundreds of rainbow fish were swimming joyfully in the rainbow falls.
Beside the rivers and lakes, dryads tended to rapidly growing trees and herbs. This scenery brought life to the memories in the pictures. He didn’t question their presence, he simply continued looking through the rest of the album. Once he reached the missing pictures in the illusory woods and the hot springs, he remembered the things that weren’t captured. He burned these memories into his heart.
Finally, he returned to the letter and flicked over to the next page. There he saw a transcendent pill formula entitled Nirvana Pill. He was familiar with this pill, as he’d already memorized eight tenths of its recipe. As for the ingredients required for the pill, they were all located within Jade Moon Garden, the same garden which had just appeared inside the Clear Sky World.
Excited, Cha Ming flipped over to the next page. It was the page of a textbook. He continued flicking through and realized that it wasn’t just a page but an entire book. Seeing that the process could take years, he zoomed out from the full display and saw many tiny pages all lined up in a row. The camera contained tens of millions of pages that should have been impossible to copy so easily, given their magical nature. Yet due to the wondrous powers of the space-time camera, he now had full access to the first three shelves of the Sacred Jade Library. And at the end of these sheets of paper, he saw a final note.
I snuck into the Sacred Jade Library and took pictures of what you needed. Don’t give up—I have confidence that you’ll succeed. And remember: The source of all evil is doubt. I wasn’t attracted to you because I saw a nice guy, but because I saw a man who refused to crumble, who refused to let the ages wear down his soul. I saw a man who’d fight against the currents of apathy and kindle the smallest flame to save it from the rain. I saw a man who would breathe life into a world of death, who would hold on to hope no matter what. That is who you are, Cha Ming. Never forget it.
Yu Wen
Her words were a hammer that struck a hot iron in his mind. At that moment, he gained inspiration on the Energy Talisman, which united the concepts of dousing and kindling. Dark-red and light-red energy merged together out of thin air and appeared in the shape of four lines.
Disappointment douses the hearts of the needy;
Man is left wanting and ever yearning.
Kindling the flames of love and caring;
Never questioning his devotion.
And at that moment, he realized that a figure stood behind him. He looked back and saw the familiar figure of a red-haired man. The man grinned as he walked up to Cha Ming and embraced him in a warm hug. His soul was much healthier than when they’d first met. In fact, it was even more tangible that Cha Ming’s own transcendent soul.
“I might have been sleeping, but I have some idea of what’s going on,” Sun Wukong said. “And she’s right. You can’t let this keep you down.”
“I know that now,” Cha Ming said. “I’m glad you’re all right.”
“If it’s any consolation, I have some knowledge on how things work at the higher levels,” Sun Wukong said. “I know that a god or an immortal is capable of many things. Specifically, I know that they have the power to awaken forgotten memories of past lives like the Buddhists do.”
Cha Ming’s lips trembled. “You mean that if I find her, I can make her remember?” he said. The flames of hope burned ever brighter in his heart. And as they did, his transparent jade wings appeared once more. This time, a fourth rune appeared. Its red lines merged into the jade wings that once again bolstered his body and his affinity to fire. Only a fifth of his merit glow remained.
“Piece of cake,” Sun Wukong said. “And if you can’t, I’ll do it for you. It’s the least I can do after all the trouble I’ve put you through.”
“Thank you,” Cha Ming said, hugging Sun Wukong tightly. “Thank you for everything.”
Yu Wen, I promise I’ll find you, he thought. I’ll protect you from those who want to harm you, and I’ll become an immortal. I’ll help you remember our precious memories, and I’ll make you fall in love with me again. This I swear.
EPILOGUE
“It’s been a while,” Yama said as he looked at the twin jade souls in the palm of his hand. “Where will you two be going next?”
The two souls stared back at him dully.
Of course, he thought. They don’t even need Aunty Meng’s potion. They’re just blank slates every time. Sighing, he summoned the threads of karma surrounding them. They were fading quickly, but as the most powerful man in the universe, it was a cakewalk for him to untangle them.
Five main threads, Yama thought. One for enmity, two for parents, and one for friendship. And finally, one for love. That’s new.
He thought for a moment before appearing above the six gates of reincarnation. He walked through the gate of humanity and entered large space containing millions of portals.
“Same deal as before,” Yama said. “You can pick whichever one you like. If you don’t, I’ll send you somewhere random.”
The soul looked around in a daze. It looked at the five strings before choosing one of them. Yama performed some quick karmic calculations before flicking his finger and forcing the tethered souls into a large portal. This one led to a transcendent realm.
“I knew you’d pick that one,” he said cheerfully. He then took out his phone and looked at the two messages that topped his SpiritChat app. One was from the Curse Sovereign, and the other was from the Jade Emperor. He sent them both messages of regret, informing them that he couldn’t divulge her whereabouts, as that would be a gross violation of Diyu’s privacy policy.
Then, for good measure, he flicked his sleeve. Millions of miles away, a small book that recorded every transaction in Diyu had a single entry redacted—aside from himself, perhaps only the deceased Pangu would be able to decipher it.
“I truly hope that you can find love again,” Yama said, shaking his head. “You’ve had so much misery in your life. You deserve better.”
A short while later, he opened his door and received his next appointment. It was Judah, his candidate for mayor. The campaign was reaching its final stretch, and things were getting serious.
A small pile of corpses burned, filling the Red Dust Pavilion’s courtyard with a wretched stench. The headmistress was one of the corpses, and she had been joined by ten other teachers who’d ended up resisting. The rest were now imprisoned within the pavilion, and Hong Xin wasn’t quite sure what to do with them yet.
The smell of burning corpses joined that of the burning trees, the strange guardians that had reinforced the headmistress’s grip over the institution. They had eyes, she found out later. They were trees possessed by spirits, a gift from the Shaman Temple in the south.
“It’s done,” she said to the assembled crowd of students. “Please go back to your dormitories while I think of a path forward for all of us. If anyone has any ideas, please come discuss them with me.”
No one lingered, preferring to retreat to their own accommodations. A small group of them, however, gathered in the central courtyard and began playing music, singing, and dancing. Others watched the revelry as they stared up toward the starry sky.
Hong Xin sighed. “Was this your plan all along?” she said. A beautiful woman in a thin red dress walked out from behind a tree. The woman was none other than Hong Yinyue, the one who had changed her life. But now that she’d reached her current realm of mid-core formation, Hong Xin could vaguely sense an intangible aura around her. It was none other than an aura of transcendence.
“I hoped that you’d find a way,” Hong Yinyue said. “For the sake of everyone in the pavilion, and for the sake of my old apprentice.”
“You could have killed the headmistress with a flick of your sleeve,” Hong Xin said bitterly.
“I could have,” Hong Yinyue admitted. “But the cost would have been high, and I would lack that energy to interfere in the upcoming war. The role we transcendents play is a delicate but vital one. It’s a balancing act, where we weigh each action carefully.”
“Is the situation on the continent so bad that you can turn your back on hundreds of young women?” Hong Xin asked softly.
“More than you know,” Hong Yinyue said. “In the south, although most of them are free, millions of people are slaves. It is a result of their cruel society, where power and wealth rule above all else. My goal isn’t to save a few young girls, but rather to save those poor people. Regrettably, the Red Dust Pavilion is but a small speck in the grand scheme of things.”
Hong Xin walked up beside Hong Yinyue, who was gazing at the Red Dust Pavilion with affection. “What next?” she said. “What do we do with all these young women who’ve been through so much? They’re no longer fit for normal society; not after what they’ve been through.”
“I leave that up to you to decide,” Hong Yinyue said. “I’m no longer fit to lead these people. Besides, you’re their spiritual leader. They’ll follow you wherever you go.” She then turned her gaze north. “But speaking of a direction, I’ve heard that your old love has returned to Gold Leaf City. Do you want to see him again?”
“Perhaps,” Hong Xin said, fondling the purple hairclip that had replaced the previous red-and-black pin. “But if I go see him, I don’t want a repeat of the last time. I need to be able to stand my own ground.”
“I also hear that a substantial amount of Red Dust Pavilion members had previously been assigned to that same city,” Hong Yinyue said. “If you’re game for cleaning messes, it’s a good place to start.”
Hong Xin smiled. “It’s as good a place as any. After we burn this wretched place down, we’ll need somewhere to stay.”
Having said her piece, she left Hong Yinyue in the woods and returned to the Red Dust Pavilion to join the festivities.
“So let me get this straight,” Lu Tianhao said. “Now that you’ve learned talisman arts and formation arts, you now want to split your focus yet again and dabble into alchemy?”
“Not just dabble,” Cha Ming said. “What I did with Mo Tianshen before was dabbling. I want to master alchemy. There’s a big difference.”
They were seated in the older man’s office. The plants previously growing there had already been harvested by Grandmaster Yao and were currently being refined into Transcendence Pills and other beneficial items.
“I know a place,” Lu Tianhao said. “It’s the holy land for all professions, a neutral territory in the sea. I can write you a recommendation letter for Haijing City, and with your skill, you shouldn’t have any issues joining.”
“Good,” Cha Ming said. “I’ll be taking my disciples along with me. It’ll be a good training experience for them.”
“When will you leave?” Lu Tianhao asked, putting a brush to a piece of paper.
“Tomorrow,” Cha Ming said decisively. “There’s a lot to do, and not much time remaining.”
None of the previous despondency and depression remained in his eyes. Hope shone brightly within them, a flame far stronger than the love that had kindled it.
Her dance intensified as flames poured out from her. They crashed against the mistresses, who hastily used their weapons to deflect them. Fire and ice rained down on the merciless teachers, causing some of them to cry out as they were burned black. Then, Hong Xin flew up to the headmistress. A fiery dragon appeared on her fist and crashed into a shield of ice.
“You think you can win?” the headmistress said. “You think you can fight against us on our home turf?”
Suddenly the Red Dust Pavilion glowed with an ominous crimson light. The many trees covered in crimson leaves year-round shone brightly with strange runic characters. They joined together in a runic pattern, causing the mistresses to grow in power.
“Everyone, fight!” Hong Xin said. “Fight for your life!”
As she renewed her assault, she directed their joint power of kindling to a nearby teacher. Her kindling powers wormed their way into the icy teacher’s mind and sought for a modicum of resistance but found none.
How can this be? she thought. She tried another teacher but failed once more. Do they truly not wish to be free?
She tried each teacher, one after another, in quick succession. One by one, she found not a shred of resistance. Before long, only the headmistress and Mistress Huang remained.
Here goes nothing, she thought as she probed Mistress Huang. To her surprise, she didn’t resist. The power of kindling poured into her tormentor’s core, causing its outer layer to crumble. Finally, a large purple flame at the center flickered to life. The ice that once pervaded it melted and fused with it, causing her core to turn into a harmonized purple core of ice and fire like Hong Xin’s gold-and-purple one.
Despite this change, Mistress Huang didn’t act. She continued fighting against the students like nothing had happened, allowing the headmistress to close in on Hong Xin. Fire and ice clashed briefly as the headmistress used her superior strength to press against Hong Xin’s protective shield of fire.
Frozen spikes jutted out of the earth, impaling the protective phoenixes floating around the younger girl. The headmistress thrust her hand out and grasped Hong Xin by the neck, causing vivid blue runes of restriction to form on her fragile body.
“You gave it a good shot, but you’re still two hundred years early,” the headmistress said. “It’s a pity you didn’t pick better companions. If they hadn’t betrayed you, you might have grown into a real threat.”
“That’s the thing about trust,” Hong Xin croaked. “To make friends or lasting partners, you need to take a gamble. Otherwise, they’re nothing but slaves.”
“Slaves listen,” the headmistress shot back.
“Slaves will stab you in the back as soon as they have the slightest opportunity,” Hong Xin said. She grinned as a blue sword pierced out of the headmistress’s chest and twisted.
The cold woman turned her head around slowly until she came face to face with her killer, Mistress Huang. She died with a shocked expression on her face. The thought of her best student betraying her had never crossed her mind.
All around them, the fighting stopped. The teachers, seeing that their master had perished, no longer put up any resistance. The chaos was instantly quelled, and the students rounded up the sullen teachers, who seemed to have given up on everything, including living.
“It’s about time you took the hint,” Mistress Huang said dryly.
“I was being cautious,” Hong Xin said. “Besides, you made it rather difficult for me to believe you. Something about stabbing cold needles in someone’s heart makes it very difficult for them to trust you from then on.”
“You think I did all that to follow orders?” Mistress Huang said. “I did it hoping that you’d succeed where I failed. And it seems my gamble paid off.”
Hong Xin kneeled down and retrieved the headmistress’s bag of holding. She glanced inside it before confirming that the Oath Stone was still intact. Then she looked at the crowd of weeping students. They hugged the cold bodies of their fallen sisters and mourned those who hadn’t even lived to see this day.
She sighed before walking over to a nearby group of students to direct them. There was a lot of work to be done, and someone had to step up and face the many challenges ahead of them.
Cha Ming wiped the tears from his eyes as he read Yu Wen’s letter on the space-time camera again. Although it pained him to do so, this time he read the words out loud. Huxian listened intently to its brief but heartfelt contents.
Dearest Cha Ming,
This might come as a surprise to you, but I’ve known for a long time that I would likely die on Jade Moon Planet. I’m prophetic, you see, and as we grew closer and closer, my choice became a lot easier. If it was between me and the other cultivators on the planet, I’d choose myself in a heartbeat. But with you, it’s not so simple. Cha Ming, I love you. And when you love someone, you jump out to save them, even though you’re certain to die in the process.
By now, you’ve likely finished looking through the first set of pictures in my camera. You feel sad and lost, like life isn’t worth living anymore. But let me tell you, even though I knew I would die because of it, I never felt more alive than when I was with you. When you look through these pictures, I want you to remember what we had. I want you to keep me in your heart and remember that this sadness comes from happiness. The root of your grief is joy, and the reverse can also be true. You can rise from this sadness stronger than ever. It can be the spark that sets it off for you, the drive you’ve been seeking your entire life.
I know you’ll have trouble moving on, and I can’t make that easier. I also know there’s no guarantee you’ll find someone else. Therefore, I’ll settle for a smaller goal. Once you’re done reading this letter, I want you to promise me to look through these pictures again. I want you to ignore the sadness and remember the happiness you see. And then I want you to keep looking through the rest of the album—there are a few pictures I never showed you. I promise that you’ll feel better once you’ve seen them.
That’s it. I’ve now run out of things to write. Please do me a favor and imagine all the other nice things I should say to you. You’re good at it, and I like that about you.
Love,
Yu Wen
“I can do that,” Cha Ming said, closing his tear-filled eyes. He opened them and returned to the beginning of the album. Instead of focusing on what he’d lost, he focused on what he’d gained. As he flicked through the pictures, he laughed as he remembered their playful moments. He cried tears of joy as he remembered their close encounters in the volcano and their playful game of tag with the rainbow fish.
“Is that us?” a voice said from within his Clear Sky Brush.
Unsure of how to react, Cha Ming sent his transcendent soul into the brush and saw a two-foot fish. He looked around and saw a lush garden in the formerly white space. Hundreds of rainbow fish were swimming joyfully in the rainbow falls.
Beside the rivers and lakes, dryads tended to rapidly growing trees and herbs. This scenery brought life to the memories in the pictures. He didn’t question their presence, he simply continued looking through the rest of the album. Once he reached the missing pictures in the illusory woods and the hot springs, he remembered the things that weren’t captured. He burned these memories into his heart.
Finally, he returned to the letter and flicked over to the next page. There he saw a transcendent pill formula entitled Nirvana Pill. He was familiar with this pill, as he’d already memorized eight tenths of its recipe. As for the ingredients required for the pill, they were all located within Jade Moon Garden, the same garden which had just appeared inside the Clear Sky World.
Excited, Cha Ming flipped over to the next page. It was the page of a textbook. He continued flicking through and realized that it wasn’t just a page but an entire book. Seeing that the process could take years, he zoomed out from the full display and saw many tiny pages all lined up in a row. The camera contained tens of millions of pages that should have been impossible to copy so easily, given their magical nature. Yet due to the wondrous powers of the space-time camera, he now had full access to the first three shelves of the Sacred Jade Library. And at the end of these sheets of paper, he saw a final note.
I snuck into the Sacred Jade Library and took pictures of what you needed. Don’t give up—I have confidence that you’ll succeed. And remember: The source of all evil is doubt. I wasn’t attracted to you because I saw a nice guy, but because I saw a man who refused to crumble, who refused to let the ages wear down his soul. I saw a man who’d fight against the currents of apathy and kindle the smallest flame to save it from the rain. I saw a man who would breathe life into a world of death, who would hold on to hope no matter what. That is who you are, Cha Ming. Never forget it.
Yu Wen
Her words were a hammer that struck a hot iron in his mind. At that moment, he gained inspiration on the Energy Talisman, which united the concepts of dousing and kindling. Dark-red and light-red energy merged together out of thin air and appeared in the shape of four lines.
Disappointment douses the hearts of the needy;
Man is left wanting and ever yearning.
Kindling the flames of love and caring;
Never questioning his devotion.
And at that moment, he realized that a figure stood behind him. He looked back and saw the familiar figure of a red-haired man. The man grinned as he walked up to Cha Ming and embraced him in a warm hug. His soul was much healthier than when they’d first met. In fact, it was even more tangible that Cha Ming’s own transcendent soul.
“I might have been sleeping, but I have some idea of what’s going on,” Sun Wukong said. “And she’s right. You can’t let this keep you down.”
“I know that now,” Cha Ming said. “I’m glad you’re all right.”
“If it’s any consolation, I have some knowledge on how things work at the higher levels,” Sun Wukong said. “I know that a god or an immortal is capable of many things. Specifically, I know that they have the power to awaken forgotten memories of past lives like the Buddhists do.”
Cha Ming’s lips trembled. “You mean that if I find her, I can make her remember?” he said. The flames of hope burned ever brighter in his heart. And as they did, his transparent jade wings appeared once more. This time, a fourth rune appeared. Its red lines merged into the jade wings that once again bolstered his body and his affinity to fire. Only a fifth of his merit glow remained.
“Piece of cake,” Sun Wukong said. “And if you can’t, I’ll do it for you. It’s the least I can do after all the trouble I’ve put you through.”
“Thank you,” Cha Ming said, hugging Sun Wukong tightly. “Thank you for everything.”
Yu Wen, I promise I’ll find you, he thought. I’ll protect you from those who want to harm you, and I’ll become an immortal. I’ll help you remember our precious memories, and I’ll make you fall in love with me again. This I swear.
EPILOGUE
“It’s been a while,” Yama said as he looked at the twin jade souls in the palm of his hand. “Where will you two be going next?”
The two souls stared back at him dully.
Of course, he thought. They don’t even need Aunty Meng’s potion. They’re just blank slates every time. Sighing, he summoned the threads of karma surrounding them. They were fading quickly, but as the most powerful man in the universe, it was a cakewalk for him to untangle them.
Five main threads, Yama thought. One for enmity, two for parents, and one for friendship. And finally, one for love. That’s new.
He thought for a moment before appearing above the six gates of reincarnation. He walked through the gate of humanity and entered large space containing millions of portals.
“Same deal as before,” Yama said. “You can pick whichever one you like. If you don’t, I’ll send you somewhere random.”
The soul looked around in a daze. It looked at the five strings before choosing one of them. Yama performed some quick karmic calculations before flicking his finger and forcing the tethered souls into a large portal. This one led to a transcendent realm.
“I knew you’d pick that one,” he said cheerfully. He then took out his phone and looked at the two messages that topped his SpiritChat app. One was from the Curse Sovereign, and the other was from the Jade Emperor. He sent them both messages of regret, informing them that he couldn’t divulge her whereabouts, as that would be a gross violation of Diyu’s privacy policy.
Then, for good measure, he flicked his sleeve. Millions of miles away, a small book that recorded every transaction in Diyu had a single entry redacted—aside from himself, perhaps only the deceased Pangu would be able to decipher it.
“I truly hope that you can find love again,” Yama said, shaking his head. “You’ve had so much misery in your life. You deserve better.”
A short while later, he opened his door and received his next appointment. It was Judah, his candidate for mayor. The campaign was reaching its final stretch, and things were getting serious.
A small pile of corpses burned, filling the Red Dust Pavilion’s courtyard with a wretched stench. The headmistress was one of the corpses, and she had been joined by ten other teachers who’d ended up resisting. The rest were now imprisoned within the pavilion, and Hong Xin wasn’t quite sure what to do with them yet.
The smell of burning corpses joined that of the burning trees, the strange guardians that had reinforced the headmistress’s grip over the institution. They had eyes, she found out later. They were trees possessed by spirits, a gift from the Shaman Temple in the south.
“It’s done,” she said to the assembled crowd of students. “Please go back to your dormitories while I think of a path forward for all of us. If anyone has any ideas, please come discuss them with me.”
No one lingered, preferring to retreat to their own accommodations. A small group of them, however, gathered in the central courtyard and began playing music, singing, and dancing. Others watched the revelry as they stared up toward the starry sky.
Hong Xin sighed. “Was this your plan all along?” she said. A beautiful woman in a thin red dress walked out from behind a tree. The woman was none other than Hong Yinyue, the one who had changed her life. But now that she’d reached her current realm of mid-core formation, Hong Xin could vaguely sense an intangible aura around her. It was none other than an aura of transcendence.
“I hoped that you’d find a way,” Hong Yinyue said. “For the sake of everyone in the pavilion, and for the sake of my old apprentice.”
“You could have killed the headmistress with a flick of your sleeve,” Hong Xin said bitterly.
“I could have,” Hong Yinyue admitted. “But the cost would have been high, and I would lack that energy to interfere in the upcoming war. The role we transcendents play is a delicate but vital one. It’s a balancing act, where we weigh each action carefully.”
“Is the situation on the continent so bad that you can turn your back on hundreds of young women?” Hong Xin asked softly.
“More than you know,” Hong Yinyue said. “In the south, although most of them are free, millions of people are slaves. It is a result of their cruel society, where power and wealth rule above all else. My goal isn’t to save a few young girls, but rather to save those poor people. Regrettably, the Red Dust Pavilion is but a small speck in the grand scheme of things.”
Hong Xin walked up beside Hong Yinyue, who was gazing at the Red Dust Pavilion with affection. “What next?” she said. “What do we do with all these young women who’ve been through so much? They’re no longer fit for normal society; not after what they’ve been through.”
“I leave that up to you to decide,” Hong Yinyue said. “I’m no longer fit to lead these people. Besides, you’re their spiritual leader. They’ll follow you wherever you go.” She then turned her gaze north. “But speaking of a direction, I’ve heard that your old love has returned to Gold Leaf City. Do you want to see him again?”
“Perhaps,” Hong Xin said, fondling the purple hairclip that had replaced the previous red-and-black pin. “But if I go see him, I don’t want a repeat of the last time. I need to be able to stand my own ground.”
“I also hear that a substantial amount of Red Dust Pavilion members had previously been assigned to that same city,” Hong Yinyue said. “If you’re game for cleaning messes, it’s a good place to start.”
Hong Xin smiled. “It’s as good a place as any. After we burn this wretched place down, we’ll need somewhere to stay.”
Having said her piece, she left Hong Yinyue in the woods and returned to the Red Dust Pavilion to join the festivities.
“So let me get this straight,” Lu Tianhao said. “Now that you’ve learned talisman arts and formation arts, you now want to split your focus yet again and dabble into alchemy?”
“Not just dabble,” Cha Ming said. “What I did with Mo Tianshen before was dabbling. I want to master alchemy. There’s a big difference.”
They were seated in the older man’s office. The plants previously growing there had already been harvested by Grandmaster Yao and were currently being refined into Transcendence Pills and other beneficial items.
“I know a place,” Lu Tianhao said. “It’s the holy land for all professions, a neutral territory in the sea. I can write you a recommendation letter for Haijing City, and with your skill, you shouldn’t have any issues joining.”
“Good,” Cha Ming said. “I’ll be taking my disciples along with me. It’ll be a good training experience for them.”
“When will you leave?” Lu Tianhao asked, putting a brush to a piece of paper.
“Tomorrow,” Cha Ming said decisively. “There’s a lot to do, and not much time remaining.”
None of the previous despondency and depression remained in his eyes. Hope shone brightly within them, a flame far stronger than the love that had kindled it.
