Chapter 153: STARRY NIGHT

(Chapter 1 of 2 today. The next chapter will be published right after.)

So here’s the release for the Monday before last, which was significantly delayed, as well as this Monday’s release, which was considerably less delayed.

Normally, when I delay a release by more than a week, I like to include a bonus chapter to make up for it. However, one of the reasons for the delay this time is that I’ve been focusing on the rewrite, and I really want to wrap it up this month—so no bonus chapter this time, I’m afraid. On a related note, the rewrite is going strong.

CHAPTER

153

STARRY NIGHT

Jieyuan

—∞—

It was early morning when the three of them arrived at the Mysterious Night House.

It was a massive, six-story building. It stood out not just for its size but also for the material it was made of: a smooth, glossy black stone, darker than jet. It seemed to swallow all the light that came near it, which only made the glowing silver patterns embossing its surface, a tapestry of stars and moons, all the more eye-catching.

Jieyuan had also stood in front of this building nearly a year ago, together with a group of Gleaming Stone Sect elders, right before they’d entered the establishment directly across it: the Radiant Light Atelier, where he’d bought the Shifting Feathers.

The circumstances then couldn’t be more different from the ones now, though.

There were already other cultivators in the streets, and more than a few of them were entering the Mysterious Night House. The three of them joined the influx, just three more robes in a crowd.

The outfit Jieyuan had used in his first outing in the city—as well as yesterday, when he’d taken a short trip to the Mysterious Night House to put up for auction their three Orangesoul rings—was now mirrored in Meiyao and Daojue.

A hooded plain gray robe with a plain gray mask. In Daojue’s and Meiyao’s cases, they were actually wearing two robes, layered, to better conceal their figures. Both of them had also turned their eyes mundane, and Meiyao had dyed her hair black. Xiaohu was inside Meiyao’s glyph-stretch pouch; they’d considered leaving the viridian prowler back in the safe house, but Jieyuan had decided it was better to be safe than sorry and bring it along.

It’d taken surprisingly little convincing on Jieyuan’s part to get Meiyao and Daojue to see the necessity of it all. They seemed to be, at the very least, self-aware of how much they stood out. The hardest part had been getting Meiyao to dye her hair; she really hadn’t liked that, insisting the hood would suffice, but Jieyuan hadn’t wanted to take any chances.

There was nothing to be done about Daojue’s towering height and impressively broad shoulders, unfortunately, but it’d have to do. Their weapons were also all shrouded (the Shifting Feathers, when sheathed, could easily pass for a split-up spear as long as nobody paid too much attention to how unusually broad the sheaths were), and they had their Orangesoul glyph-stretch pouches inside their Redsoul ones.

They had also wrapped first-density red chroma over their souls, masking their soulsigns much like how Qingshi had hidden his. They’d also lowered their aura accordingly. They weren’t alone in that; one out of three cultivators around him also registered as first-sign Redsouls, and Jieyuan would be surprised if even one of them was actually at that soulsign.

It wasn’t like any of them meant to actually pass for first-sign redsouls, either; the first-density red chroma they wore over their souls made it clear they were masking their true soulsign. It implied they could be a redsoul of any sign—if not an Orangesoul, or even higher.

The main entrance of the Mysterious Night House was a massive, open doorway that was nearly as tall as the building itself; Jieyuan could only think of a single beast they’d come across in the Viridian Dome that wouldn’t have been able to come inside.

The hall the entrance opened into kept up the trend of overwhelming dimensions: a vast reception area with a sprawling counter at the back, swarming with attendants in their black robes and masks patterned in golden stars and moons, much like the building they worked in.

The interior reflected the outside of the building. Everything was made of the same glossy black stone, and on the ceiling, providing the lighting, was a sea of stars with a massive half-moon in the center of it, all of it made out of the same glowing silver decorating the building’s facade. If nighttime were a building, Jieyuan reckoned this was what it’d look like (which was, he supposed, exactly the impression the Mysterious Night House was going for).

As soon as a group of cultivators stepped inside, one of the many attendants would make a straight beeline towards them; their group proved no exception.

They stopped just to the side of the entrance as the attendant reached them. A tall woman who, in the elaborate black outfit of Mysterious Night House workers, could’ve passed for a customer in any other establishment. Jieyuan’s soulsense informed him that the woman in front of them was at fifth-sign.

Most chromal businesses employed mundane attendants. Even the ones owned by the local districts, who had plenty of cultivators to spare, hired mundanes. It was very rare to find a cultivator willing to work in the service business. Cultivators were a prideful bunch, even ones at first-sign Redsoul. Their pride was warranted, too; very few people could or would willingly endure the Pains, regardless of the powers promised.

That raised the question, then, of just how the Mysterious Night House managed to employ cultivators. All of its black-robed attendants were at least at third-sign Redsoul. It was one of the main reasons for the rumors that they were backed by some very powerful cabal.

“Welcome,” the black-robed woman said, giving the three of them a shallow bow. The mask she wore was eyeless, just a plain black surface with the design of a half-moon in the middle of it, surrounded by a circle of stars. “Are you here to participate—”

Wordlessly, Jieyuan held up the token he’d been given yesterday, after entrusting the three Orangesoul sealed-space rings to the auction house: a little black medal, engraved with the stars-wreathed moon that was the symbol of the Mysterious Night House. It was a chromal artifact, too: one at fifth-sign Redsoul.

“Ah, yes, thank you,” the attendant said, reaching forward to take the token. She pressed one of the rings in her hands against it for a short moment. Jieyuan caught it as something changed in her posture, a slight tension in her shoulders. She returned the token to him. “Please come with me, esteemed customers.”

Her voice was noticeably more respectful now. Not exactly deferential (cultivators as a whole didn’t really do deference) but very much courteous. They followed in silence as she expertly negotiated her way through the packed entrance hall.

Jieyuan discreetly looked around as they walked through the crowd. He was pleased to see a number of robed and masked cultivators; there’d been quite a few of them in the Golden Chalice, but there were significantly more of them here. Even with Daojue’s unusual frame, they didn’t stand out at all.

Jieyuan tried to pay attention to his surroundings, to watch out for any familiar faces in the crowd, but as he followed the attendant, his focus invariably turned inward—toward the end of yesterday’s events: the matter of his soul, and the black thing inside it.

Meiyao, of course, had never heard of dark chroma. He’d even asked Daojue if he knew anything, and for the first time in his life, Jieyuan had seen Daojue look genuinely confused. Talking with Maeva in private later hadn’t gotten him any closer to an answer, either.

Only one thing was clear: he couldn’t cultivate any further. He was stuck at ninth-sign Redsoul. If it was, indeed, black chroma that he had in his soul (and considering the soul assumed the color of the stable black chroma in it, that sure seemed to be the case), it certainly didn’t bring him any advantages; his aura and all of his parameters were that of a ninth-sign Redsoul.

Ultimately, there was nothing they could do about the situation. It was a good thing, at least, that the gap between ninth-sign and tenth-sign was minimal, barely an increase of one-tenth in power across the board. Jieyuan’s biggest concern, of course, was how this would impact his advancement to Orangesoul later, but there was no way to tell unless he got his hands on an Orangesoul coalescence hymn and tried chanting it.

Jieyuan was suddenly grateful for his mask, because it meant nobody could see his scowl of frustration. He’d spent hours racking his head over all of that yesterday. Thinking on the matter any longer wouldn’t seal any deals. But he just couldn’t keep his mind off it; the fear that he might be forever stuck at ninth-sign Redsoul kept gnawing at him.

The fact that he’d finally found a way to make it to Violetsoul, with the affinities he’d gained in the Absolute Sword Trial, only made it worse. He’d been given just what he needed to reach the very top, only to be met with his greatest obstacle yet.

It’d have been funny, really, if the butt of the joke hadn’t been his very future.

Movement to his side pulled Jieyuan right out of his thoughts. Meiyao’s pace suddenly went stiff before smoothing out again; Jieyuan was about to do a quick scan of the area to find out what was wrong when he felt Meiyao’s presence bloom in his head. An incoming mind-link.

He accepted the connection.

Front and left, Meiyao’s voice rang in his mind, tinged with alarm.

He looked in the direction indicated, and he saw it. Saw them.

A small group of cultivators in ornate golden robes. Radiant Gold Sect cultivators. And, in the middle of them, a tall, handsome woman in her thirties wearing so much jewelry she would’ve fit right in with the gemstone-adoring Liangshibai. Jieyuan remembered her face; even if he hadn’t, the white coat with golden markings she wore, unique in her little entourage, would’ve clued him in.

Wujinyao Aoxin, the sovereign protector of the Radiant Gold Sect.

And, right next to her, a man Jieyuan also recognized. He resembled the sovereign, tall and handsome; he didn’t wear an elder’s coat, though, his robes those of a core disciple. He also lacked the rich jewelry adorning his fellow sect member. Wujinyao Dayang. Sovereign Aoxin’s nephew and apprentice.

Also, the man Meiyao had been engaged to, even if it’d all been a ploy orchestrated by Meiyao’s father to drive her away and ensure she’d accept the recruitment offer of the Howling Lightning Sect envoy—a farce everyone but Meiyao had been in on.

They’d barely entered the Mysterious Night House, and already, trouble had found its way to their doorstep. He’d known the odds were high they might come across people who knew them, but he hadn’t thought it’d be so damn soon.

Rotting Heavens.

Jieyuan quickly assessed the situation. The Radiant Gold Sect cultivators were gathered near the entrance of one of the corridors at the back of the reception hall. They weren’t moving, either; they were standing there, in deep but low conversation, a pair of attendants hanging nearby.

And, as luck would have it, the hallway they were next to looked like the one their attendant was leading them to.

Unless the Radiant Gold Sect moved in the next few seconds, they’d walk by right past them. Well within soulsense range.

What now? Jieyuan asked himself, thoughts racing.

Did he ask the attendant to take them through another hallway? No. That might end up only drawing more attention to them. Thinking it through, he realized that the alternative might in fact be safer. There was no guarantee that anything would come out of coming close to Dayang and his aunt.

They no doubt had Meiyao’s spiritsong memorized (Jieyuan wouldn’t be surprised if they also knew his and Daojue’s too), but to recognize it, they’d have to focus their soulsenses on her first. And they’d have no reason to do so, what with how the three of them looked mostly indistinguishable from the many masked cultivators around.

Don’t do anything, Jieyuan sent back to Meiyao through their mind-link. Just keep going.

All right, Meiyao answered. She sounded a mite doubtful, though.

Daojue, for his part, did not react.

Jieyuan, it quickly turned out, had been right: the attendant led them straight to the hallway next to the group of Radiant Gold Sect cultivators, who didn’t move away from their position.

Jieyuan kept a steady pace as they walked past the group. Nothing happened, even when he and Meiyao came within touching distance of Sovereign Aoxin and her nephew. Not one head turned their way. They entered the hallway (a wide, tall passageway lit up by its own miniature starry night sky of glowing silver stars and moons), leaving the reception area behind.

Jieyuan could’ve sighed in relief.

Trouble avert—

“Excuse me,” a voice called out to them. A man’s voice.

Now it was a groan that Jieyuan had to swallow down.

Oh, come on.

The attendant halted, then turned around. Jieyuan glanced back.

Sure enough, Dayang was standing at the entrance of the hallway, his eyes on them—or, more precisely, on Meiyao. He wore a neutral expression, but prolonged exposure to Daojue had trained Jieyuan’s eyes to catalog the smallest of reactions. The corners of Dayang’s eyes and lips were tight, his wide jaw slightly clenched; his hands, Jieyuan also noticed, were trembling a little.

And there was no mistaking the look in his eyes: haunted and hopeful—and stunned.

Sovereign Aoxin was standing beside her nephew; she kept her composure better, but Jieyuan also caught the signs of tension in her. Her gaze was flicking back and forth between him and Meiyao.

Jieyuan made a quick estimation of the distance between them. About forty feet. If Dayang were still at sixth-sign Redsoul, like he’d been during the tournament, they’d have been just outside his soulsense range. But Dayang’s soul was now seventh-shade red; he’d broken through since. There was also no question that his aunt, who was a tenth-sign Redsoul, could sense them too.

Well, rot.

A Radiant Gold Sect elder appeared at the entrance of the tunnel, heading over, but Sovereign Aoxin shot a quick look at them, and he drew back. Leaving only her and her nephew at the start of the hallway.

“Yes?” the attendant leading them asked, addressing the Radiant Gold Sect pair.

Dayang tore his gaze off Meiyao, moving it to the masked attendant. “I was wondering if it’d be possible to arrange a private meeting with the… three cultivators you’re leading.”

The attendant nodded and turned to them. “Would that be agreeable?” Her tone was perfectly neutral now, and Jieyuan imagined that so was her face behind her mask.

He had no doubt, though, that this little interlude, regardless of the outcome, would soon reach the ears of the Mysterious Night House’s information division.

“Yes,” Jieyuan said, before Daojue or Meiyao could say or do anything.

Dayang and Sovereign Aoxin hadn’t outed them, and the fact that they wanted to meet in private was another good sign. Jieyuan figured he might as well make the best out of a bad situation.

“Very well,” the attendant said. “Then I shall take you to one of our private rooms. Please follow me.”

“One moment,” Sovereign Aoxin said, taking a step back outside the hallway. Dayang stayed put.

Jieyuan heard a few quiet, indistinct words before Sovereign Aoxin returned and said, “Lead the way.”

The attendant waited until Sovereign Aoxin and Dayang had walked over, joining them, before she resumed on her way down the hallway.

They followed: Jieyuan, Meiyao, and Daojue at the front, Sovereign Aoxin and Dayang trailing slightly behind. The silence that hung in the air was thick with tension.

Jieyuan? Meiyao’s voice brushed against his mind again. They hadn’t dropped their previous mind-link. Do you have a plan?

Something like that, Jieyuan sent back.

Pulling his focus away from his mind-link with Meiyao, he turned to another presence in his mind.

Huaxin, buddy? Got any warnings for me?

NEGATION, came Huaxin’s reply.

Thanks.

Well, that was some good news, at least. But Huaxin had been known to be wrong before, so Jieyuan didn’t let down his guard.

The attendant led them down to other hallways, all of them seemingly identical to each other, before they reached a corridor with a series of deep, dark mahogany-looking doors on both sides. She stopped in front of one of the doors and drew it open.

The room on the other side kept to the same standards as the rest of the building, black stone lit up by silver stars and moons, though with more normal dimensions. It featured a wide, mahogany table with two silver-colored, comfortable-looking couches on either side of it.

Jieyuan noticed how his soulsenses couldn’t reach the inside of the room. It was warded, then.

“Please,” the attendant said, gesturing for them to enter.

Daojue entered first, Jieyuan and Meiyao next. As he stepped inside, the block on Jieyuan’s soulsenses disappeared—but he found he couldn’t detect any inscribed field suffusing the air. There had to be an inscribed field, though, otherwise his soulsense wouldn’t have been blocked. And there could only be one explanation for that: he couldn’t sense it. Which meant it wasn’t a Redsoul inscribed field.

Well, that’s interesting. It was common knowledge that the Mysterious Night House’s backer was at least an Orangesoul cabal, but he hadn’t thought he’d be finding evidence of that so soon. They sure hadn’t skimped on privacy, that was for sure.

On the other hand, he wasn’t so sure how much he’d trust this supposed privacy. The fact that he couldn’t tell what exactly this inscribed field did besides blocking the soulsenses was part of the problem. Mainly, though, the problem was that the Mysterious Night House dealt in, among many other things, information. Only a fool would trust them not to pry into their secrets. They’d have to take their chances, though. If nothing else, Jieyuan intended to be gone from this place long before trouble could find its way to them.

Jieyuan sat down on the couch facing the door, Meiyao beside him. Daojue kept standing to the side of them. Sovereign Aoxin and Dayang took the opposite couch.

The attendant didn’t enter. “I shall stay by the door. Please bear in mind the auction starts within the hour.”

With that, she closed the door from the outside, leaving just the five of them in the room.

Dayang stared fixedly at Meiyao. Jieyuan watched as Dayang’s self-control slipped, the man’s eyes growing wide, the tremble that had been contained to his hands now spreading to his whole body. He looked like he was on the verge of throwing himself at her. Sovereign Aoxin was also looking a great deal more tense than before.

The ghostly silver light of the stars and moon in the ceiling, compounded with the black stone all around them, didn’t help matters any. It gave the situation a somber, almost eerie touch. It was almost the perfect opposite of the golden, garish opulence of the Radiant Gold Palace, where he’d last seen the aunt and nephew in front of him.

Dayang swallowed, then said, “Meiyao. It’s you, isn’t it?” His voice was thick with emotion.

Meiyao said nothing. She just sat there, as still as a statue. Her mask made it even harder to tell what she was thinking.

Jieyuan had an idea of what was going on in her head, though. They hadn’t discussed anything specific about the Radiant Gold Sect, but he knew her well enough.

The Radiant Gold Sect had survived the revolution mostly unscathed, only losing its position as the ruler of the district. Sovereign Aoxin and Dayang were not only alive and well but also had the freedom to attend an auction, while the fate of her family, the Liangshibai, was unclear.

None of that would sit right with her.

Meiyao, he knew, didn’t believe in neutrality. You were either with her or against her. It was why she’d had that huge falling out with her family over her engagement to Dayang, even though the ones to arrange it had been her father and grandfather. Just because her stepmother, Protector Yuyan, and Yongyi, her half-brother, hadn’t fought the engagement, she’d also cut off contact with them. And that was with her family, the people she was closest to.

Jieyuan sighed and took off his mask. Dayang’s and Sovereign Aoxin’s eyes both snapped toward him.

“Sovereign Aoxin, Dayang,” Jieyuan greeted them. “It’s been a while.”

It was a strange world where it fell to a Firesoul to be the reasonable, diplomatic one. If he’d let matters up to Daojue and Meiyao, they’d have probably skipped Radiant Gold City altogether and just charged straight into the Gleaming Stone Sect and demanded Qingshi offer up his head.

“I…” Dayang looked between him and Meiyao. He seemed at a loss for words.

“It really is you, then, Haoyujin Jieyuan,” Sovereign Aoxin said, rescuing her nephew. “You, and Meiyao, and unless I’m mistaken, Tianzijun Daojue. Nobody really knew just what happened to you three, but after so many months, we all assumed you were dead.”

That threw Jieyuan back a little. Two elders had followed them all the way to the edge of the Viridian Dome, had seen them going inside. Had the Xiyunfeng Clan and the Gleaming Nobles kept it a secret?

“What do you know of our… disappearance?” Jieyuan asked.

He did his best to ignore the way Dayang kept staring at Meiyao in a daze; Dayang’s expression was of a man who wasn’t sure whether he was seeing a ghost or the most beautiful thing in the world, and it rubbed Jieyuan the wrong way.

Still, the last thing he needed right now was to antagonize Dayang and risk him doing something stupid. Based on what he knew of Dayang, the man was smarter (not to mention more mature) than that, but Jieyuan didn’t want to take any risks if he could help it.

The man better not try anything funny, though, or Jieyuan would be giving the Shifting Feathers their first taste of blood after their transformation.

“Questions were asked about what became of you three after everything settled down,” Sovereign Aoxin said. “The Xiyunfeng Clan and the Gleaming Nobles claimed they had you three in custody, but… Well, they also secretly sent search parties after you.”

She paused, hesitating, before she sighed and said, “We have spies in both the Xiyunfeng Clan and the Gleaming Stone Sect. Not very good ones, of course, or we’d have known of their revolution beforehand. But we know that a group of elders chased you three into the Viridian Forest. There was a beast incursion, and some of the elders retreated. Two, however, were supposed to have managed to stay on your tail. A Xiyunfeng and a Gleaming Noble. They went missing.”

Jieyuan knew precisely which two elders she was talking about. “They never returned?”

The last he’d seen the two elders, right before he, Meiyao, and Daojue had gone inside the Dome, was still clear in his mind: the Gleaming Noble trying to hit them with a Radiant Light Blast, which the Xiyunfeng elder just barely managed to divert.

Had the two fought each other because the Gleaming Noble’s attempt to kill them had driven them into the Dome? The Xiyunfeng elder had wanted them—or at least Meiyao—alive. But even if the two elders had ended up killing each other over it (which Jieyuan sincerely doubted), they’d have left behind corpses for others to find. There was no way the pair would’ve followed them into the Dome, either.

Maybe… Maybe instead of going back and facing punishment for their failure to capture them, the elders had gone rogue? Jieyuan still felt that was a bit of a stretch, though. A tenth-sign Redsoul was too precious a resource; their cabals wouldn’t have punished them harshly, and they’d have known that. But no other explanation came to mind.

“They didn’t,” Sovereign Aoxin confirmed. “Did you… Did you three really go inside the Dome?” And leave, was implied, and also the most important part.

Dayang also sat up straighter at that, finally looking away from Meiyao.

Jieyuan sighed, shaking his head. “We didn’t. But I can’t tell you how we escaped. You understand, of course.”

“We do, yes,” Sovereign Aoxin, looking like she’d expected that answer.

Jieyuan wasn’t surprised his lie had stuck; their managing to escape in some mysterious way was much more believable than the idea of them making it out of the Viridian Dome.

More than anything else, he didn’t want anyone to know they’d gone inside the Viridian Dome. Because that’d draw attention to them. A lot of attention. More than one Yellowsoul cabal had tried to unveil the mysteries of the Viridian Dome and failed.

“What are you even doing back in the city?” Dayang asked abruptly. “You— Why did you come back? And why did you come here, to the auction? If the Xiyunfeng Clan or the Gleaming Nobles find out you’re still alive—”

“We needed information,” Jieyuan cut him off. “We’re out of the loop, and we need to find out what’s going on. This whole Qingshi business, in particular. His being an Orangesoul and taking over the Gleaming Stone Sect. You know anything about that?”

“Not much,” Sovereign Aoxin said. She slumped back on her couch, sighing. “Only that the revelation of his true realm took the Xiyunfeng Clan by surprise as much as everyone else. They’d intended to take over as the rulers of the district; Qingshi betrayed them. He betrayed the Gleaming Nobles, too, keeping the Liangshibai alive and taking over the sect. You’ve heard about that?”

Jieyuan leaned forward, folding his elbows over his knees. “We have. So it’s—”

“The Liangshibai.” Meiyao cut in. “What do you know about them?” She still had her mask on, but she didn’t bother masking the pitch of her voice.

Dayang inhaled sharply. If he’d still been unsure this was really Meiyao (not that there should have been any doubt if he’d recognized her spiritsong), then hearing her voice must’ve just sealed the deal for him.

Sovereign Aoxin turned toward Meiyao. “Only that Sovereign Qingshi has them all locked up in the Liangshibai compounds. Meiyao, you—”

“Do you know who survived?” Meiyao pressed. “My stepmother, my brother, Yunzhu, Uncle Yiming, Aunt Wanxin—do you know if they’re all alive?”

“I…” Sovereign Aoxin frowned. “Junjie and Yuyan are both alive, as far as I know. So are Wanxin and Yunzhu. Your brother, on the other hand… I’m not sure; I’ve heard rumors he’s gone missing. Wanxin’s husband, Taishou, is also gone; Qingshi has been searching for him, supposedly. As for Yiming… Qingshi killed him. His…”

Sovereign Aoxin trailed off, shaking her head sadly.

Meiyao fell silent. Processing it all, Jieyuan reckoned. He was a bit put off himself. Yongyi, missing? That was better than knowing for a fact he was dead, but not by much. That Elder Taishou was gone was a little odd; he wasn’t a Liangshibai, only married to one.

As for Palace Head Yiming being dead… He’d expected it, but he still felt a pang of sorrow strike him. Jieyuan slumped back. Out of all the Liangshibai elders, Palace Head Yiming had been the one he was closest to.

It was a short while later that Meiyao spoke up again. Her voice was hard, her tone measured. “His what? How did Uncle Yiming die? What did Qingshi do?”

Jieyuan wasn’t all that surprised that was what she’d chosen to focus on.

Sovereign Aoxin’s frown deepened. She seemed to be wrestling with a decision.

“You— You don’t want to know,” Dayang interjected. “Trust me, Meiyao. You don’t.”

Then and there, Jieyuan realized that Dayang didn’t know Meiyao at all. Because if you wanted to keep something from her, that was absolutely the last thing you’d want to say.

Meiyao took a long, deep breath, and Jieyuan knew she was trying to keep herself in check. “Tell me.”

“Meiyao,” Dayang insisted. One of his hands reached forward, across the table, toward her.

Before anyone could react, Meiyao’s hand whipped out, grabbing Dayang by the wrist, holding his arm firmly in place.

Jieyuan heard a low, crackling sound. Dayang’s face went white.

“Tell me,” Meiyao demanded as her hand crushed Dayang’s wrist.

Oh rot.

“Meiyao,” Jieyuan said. He grabbed her wrist and tried to pull her hand off Dayang’s arm. She didn’t budge. “Stop.”

“Qingshi tortured Yiming,” Sovereign Aoxin said. The woman was still reclining against the couch, but her gaze was firmly on Meiyao’s hand now, and there was a sharpness to her voice.

Meiyao turned to Sovereign Aoxin, releasing her hold on Dayang, who quickly pulled his arm back.

There was a beat of silence. Then, looking surprisingly wry for someone who almost had his wrist crushed just moments ago, Dayang murmured, “Well, some things never change.”

Sovereign Aoxin scoffed, shooting her nephew a dark look. One of her hands disappeared inside her robes for a moment; when she pulled it out, she was holding a pill. She tossed it to Dayang, who popped it into his mouth and started rubbing his wrist.

A regeneration augmenter, Jieyuan would bet.

Meiyao ignored it all, just kept looking in Sovereign Aoxin’s direction. “Tortured him how?”

The older woman gave a weary sigh. “Qingshi cut off the poor man’s jewels and gouged his eyes out. And then he hanged Yiming from the gates of the Gleaming Stone Palace. Your uncle’s eyeless, crotchless body was left hanging there for a full month; Qingshi threatened to kill anyone who touched it. Happy now, fool girl?”

Jieyuan grimaced. That was not a pretty way to go. He’d suspected the man was dead, but he hadn’t thought it’d been nearly this bad.

As for Meiyao… She’d gone entirely still. Then she said, very slowly, ice in her voice, “Yes. Very happy. Thank you. I know exactly what to do now.” Just like that, she stood up. “We’re done here.”

Dayang shot up to his feet. “Meiyao—”

Meiyao ignored him, turning to look down at Jieyuan, who stayed on the couch. “Well?”

“Just a moment.” He nodded toward Sovereign Aoxin. “I trust that this conversation—and our presence—will remain a secret?”

“Of course,” Sovereign Aoxin said, sounding offended at the question. “You might also be interested in knowing, Jieyuan, that your family didn’t suffer any casualties. Your aunt, the new Haoyujin head, even asked me about you a few months back.”

“And what did you tell her?”

“That I didn’t have the slightest clue what happened to you. But that knowing you, chances were you’d figured something out somehow. She seemed to agree.”

“High praise, Sovereign,” Jieyuan said. He couldn’t help but smile a little. “Thank you.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s only the truth. I haven’t forgotten all the stunts you pulled in the tournament. You’re a tricky one, all right. Now, is there anything else you wanted to know?”

“No,” Meiyao said.

Jieyuan shot her a glance.

Just give me a bit, he told her through the mind-link.

Fine, she sent back, but didn’t sit back down, just stood there with her arms crossed. Dayang, who was also still standing, suddenly looked a little unsure of himself.

Sovereign Aoxin, for her part, looked more amused than anything else.

“Heavens be good, girl,” she said, smiling fondly, “but you couldn’t be more like your mother if you tried.”

Meiyao stiffened, and Jieyuan spoke up before the situation could take a turn for the worse. “The Restless Flame Sect. It really took over the Howling Lightning Sect?”

“Hmmm. For someone looking for information, you seem to know quite a lot,” Sovereign Aoxin said. “But yes, it did. We’re under new management. Except they haven’t really sent any envoys over to lay out the new rules, so we’re not sure how to proceed. Apparently, the situation over there’s a bit messy, and they don’t have the resources to spare on our little district.”

“Got it. And do you know anything about Qingshi having ties to them?”

“Well, now that’s the question, isn’t it? Because it’s the only thing that could explain Qingshi advancing to Orangesoul—unless he’s got the Heavens’ own luck and managed to manifest his own Orangesoul hymn. But as far as I know, it was the Xiyunfeng Clan who brought in a pair of Restless Flame Sect elders to deal with the Howling Lightning envoy during the coup.”

That was new information. Information that only made the puzzle Jieyuan was trying to put together more complicated. “Are you sure?”

“Sure as the weight of gold. The Xiyunfeng got quite the nasty surprise when Qingshi turned on them, and the Restless Flame Sect let it happen. My spies were clear on that much; old Zhihao apparently raged for days afterward.”

“Hmmm.” He really didn’t know what to make of that. “You wouldn’t happen to know Qingshi’s exact soulsign, would you?”

“Heavens, I wish. That information’s worth more than gold in the city right now.”

“I see.” Jieyuan put his mask back on and stood up.

Sovereign Aoxin also got to her feet.

Finally, Meiyao sent him, before making a straight beeline for the door.

Jieyuan gave Sovereign Aoxin an apologetic nod before catching up to her. Daojue, who’d played the role of a statue to perfection throughout the meeting, shadowed them.

Dayang and Sovereign Aoxin stayed back, near the couches, watching them.

Just as Meiyao was about to open the door, her hand reaching for the handle, Sovereign Aoxin called out.

“My dear nephew might be a lovestruck fool, but he isn’t wrong.”

Jieyuan turned back to look at her; Meiyao and Daojue didn’t. He saw Dayang cringe and look away from Meiyao to glare at his aunt.

“You three really should have stayed low,” Sovereign Aoxin said, paying her nephew no mind. “And there’s still time. If I were you, I’d drop everything and leave the city right now. Get in touch with an Orangesoul sect—or go straight for the Incandescent Serenity Sect if you can manage it. Give it a decade or two, and the three of you will be Yellowsouls. Then you’ll be able to right all the wrongs.”

Jieyuan had thought about doing just that, of course. And if it weren’t for the whole Liangshibai business, he’d have been tempted. Was still tempted. Qingshi being an Orangesoul complicated everything a great deal.

Jieyuan might be a Firesoul, but if there was one thing his old man had taught him, it was patience.

But they needed to make sure Meiyao’s family was safe first. They could properly figure out their next steps afterward, but not before.

Meiyao didn’t turn around or answer. She just opened the door and walked outside. Daojue went out after her.

Jieyuan lingered behind just long enough to give Sovereign Aoxin and Dayang a little wave—in both goodbye and apology—before following them out.