Chapter 67: TO PREPARE

CHAPTER

67

TO PREPARE

JIEYUAN

—∞—

Growing up, Jieyuan had gotten lessons on all sorts of things. His old man had arranged for tutors to teach him everything he’d need to take over the family business. When Old Huizhong couldn’t find anyone up to the task, he simply did it himself.

More than once, Jieyuan had sat through lessons on the proper way to break news—to tell someone something important. Those were some of the lessons his father had taken it upon himself to teach.

There was a lot to account for. What the news was—good, bad, neutral. What your relationship with the listener was like—good, bad, neutral. And what kind of reaction you wanted to have—again, good, bad, or neutral.

Somehow, though, his old man had never gotten around to the lesson on how to break it when the news involved a major—with strong emphasis on major—conspiracy spanning another cabal, traitors, and probably at least one orangesoul.

Jieyuan stood by the bedroom window of his apartments in the Gleaming Stone Palace. Beyond the palace grounds stretched out the streets of Radiant Gold City. All neat, straight lines, connecting and intersecting, grid-like. The entire city was planned to geometrical perfection.

Night had fallen, and brightgold light posts lined the streets, glowing faint and yellow under the darkened sky.

And further out, way past the city’s perfect lines, the Viridian Dome sat. Swallowing up the horizon with its sheer size. A solid green mass, glowing faintly in the darkness. Eerie. Ominous.

He’d caught himself looking at it more and more as the tournament wore on, as the ending of the summit drew closer.

Today, though—the Dome had never seemed so close.

He tore his eyes away.

They had only just returned from the Radiant Gold Palace. Before leaving, he’d managed to pull Palace Head Yiming aside and whisper that they needed to talk—discreetly. The palace head had agreed without hesitation and promised to arrange something.

On their way back, Palace Head Yiming made no mention of it, nor did he so much as glance Jieyuan’s way after they arrived.

Jieyuan didn’t know what the Palace Head had in mind, so he couldn’t do anything about it besides waiting. But there were other things he could do something about, and if the palace head took much longer he’d get started on them.

“Yo.”

Jieyuan whipped around.

Past his bedroom door, Palace Head Yiming lay comfortably on one of the couches in his anteroom. The man sprawled across most of the three-person seat, yellow robes ruffled and lightcoat pooling around him.

The palace head gave him a little wave, a lazy grin on his face.

Jieyuan stared for a beat. Then strode out of the bedroom, scanning the doors, the hall. Nothing looked out of place. He should’ve at least heard something.

“Palace Head,” he started—but caught himself. He took a moment to study the man in front of him, who couldn’t have looked more casual if he’d tried. That was not the look of a man even remotely interested in formalities. So Jieyuan did away with them. “How did you get in?”

Yiming shrugged. “I’m the palace head. There have to be some perks to the positions, I should think.”

Jieyuan plopped down across from him, on the other couch. He let himself sink into the cushions, getting comfortable—though not nearly as shamelessly as Yiming had. A small, ornate table sat between them.

“So,” Yiming said. He adjusted his position, propping his elbow on the seat and his head against his hand. Someone could’ve painted him, there and then. Yiming was handsome enough for it. All Liangshibai were good-looking, but Yiming was a cut above the rest. Not on Daojue’s level, but not so far off either. “What’s it you and my adorable little niece are up to?”

Jieyuan blinked. “What?”

Yiming scoffed. “What, you think I didn’t notice? You two, walking together on the way here, all serious-like? Whatever this is about, she’s in on it. So come on, out with it, kiddo.”

Jieyuan had already passed on to Meiyao what Caoluan had told him. She’d agreed Yiming was the best person to take something like this to.

Jieyuan frowned, opened his mouth—but Yiming held up a hand.

“Wait. Don’t tell me—” A wicked grin. “Is she pregnant?”

Jieyuan stared, blankly. “What?”

“Well, it’d fit, wouldn’t it? Can’t say I ever saw the two of you getting all that chummy, granted, but if someone around here knocked her up, it’d have to be you”

Heavens above.

Jieyuan closed his eyes, steadying himself. Half because of the sheer idiocy he was hearing—and half because Yiming’s words had conjured some images in his head he really didn’t need right now. He shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable.

Yiming, the best person to take Caoluan’s warning to. Sure. Sure he is.

Brilliant.

“Sheesh, kiddo, ease up,” Yiming said, laughter in his voice, and Jieyuan opened his eyes again.

The man’s grin was wide enough to split his face. “I’m only chipping your gem. Trust me, if I really thought you’d done the deed with Meiyao, we’d be having a totally different talk.”

Yiming waved a hand dismissively, like he was brushing the thought away. “Anyway, let’s get on with it. What’s up? I’m all ears.”

Yiming was still the very picture of casualness, sprawled across the couch—but his orange eyes were anything but. They gleamed. Attentive, focused, watchful. Sharper than a chisel.

Jieyuan wouldn’t be surprised if the utter disregard for formality was an act to put him at ease. It wasn’t necessary. He wasn’t nervous—this was just a talk, and Yiming was as approachable as an elder could be. Probably more, even.

Jieyuan wasn’t nervous, no, but he was tense. This was just a talk, sure, but a lot hinged on it.

Jieyuan sat up straighter, ran down the news-breaking checklist one last time.

The news? Bad. Very, very bad.

Relationship with the listener? Good-ish. Decent, at least.

Desired reaction? Bad—or, more precisely, serious. As in, Jieyuan wanted—needed—to be taken seriously.

It wasn’t an exact science, but a direct approach looked like the winner.

“The Xiyunfeng are working with the Gleaming Nobles. They’re planning something for the last day of the tournament.”

The reaction was immediate. A blur of movement—and Yiming was standing straighter than a pillar, face dead serious. He said nothing, just nodded sharply at Jieyuan to go on.

Now this was a palace head. He’d been right to go straight to the point.

“They’ve supposedly got something prepared to deal with the envoy. I don’t know what it is. But if they think they can handle an orangesoul... that can’t be good for us. From what I gather, the Xiyunfeng want to take down the Gleaming Stone Sect—or at least the Liangshibai. Considering they’re teaming up with the Nobles, I’d bet on the latter.”

Yiming gave another nod, and Jieyuan continued, “The only other thing I know is that they want me and Daojue dead—and Meiyao captured.”

If Yiming wasn’t tense before, he was now. His hands balled into fists over his knees. “Meiyao—” His eyes widened. “Zhihao.”

“Sovereign Zhihao,” Jieyuan confirmed.

Yiming leaned back, tilting his head toward the ceiling. He stayed that way, silent and grim, for good while. Finally, he dropped his gaze back to Jieyuan. “Since you haven’t said otherwise, I’m guessing you’re not sharing your source?”

“That’s right,” Jieyuan said.

Caoluan hadn’t told him what to do with the information, only to make sure Meiyao didn’t get captured. She hadn’t told him to keep her name out of it, either. But she’d been a good, challenging opponent. He respected her strength. And she did come to him with the news, even if it wasn’t out of the goodness of her heart. He owed her a debt, as far as he was concerned, and he wasn’t about to pay it by ratting her out.

“All right,” Yiming said slowly. “And you’re confident?”

“As much as one can be without proof.”

Another stretch of heavy silence. Yiming’s brows were deeply furrowed.

Then Yiming stood. “Keep this to yourself. Tell no one. I’ll handle it. Set some things in motion, maybe…” Yiming nodded, seemingly to himself. “Yes, I’ll also check with the Mysterious Moon House again.”

“The Mysterious Night House?” Jieyuan asked. He knew the place—there wasn’t anyone on the Radiant Gold District who didn’t. The city’s biggest chromal trade house, their auctions the stuff of legend—at least for the son of a mundane merchant. It stood near the center of Radiant Street, across the Radiant Light Atelier, where he’d bought Shifting Feather. “Why them?”

“Hmm?” Yiming blinked, then snapped his fingers. “Oh, right. You wouldn’t know. They also deal in information—on the down-low. I already felt them out about the Gleaming Nobles but didn’t get much. They might have something on the Xiyunfeng, however. If the Xiyunfeng are planning something that could take the envoy out, chances are someone’s caught wind.”

Yiming then strode over to the door, but stopped as he grabbed the handle. He turned back. “Thanks for the heads-up, Jieyuan. Like I said, I’ll handle things from here. You focus on your duel with Daojue tomorrow. I’ll be rooting for you, kiddo.”

He smiled—not one of his usual, bright grins, just a small, faint quirk of the lips—but as real as it got.

And then he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

Jieyuan slumped back onto the couch, staring at the ceiling like Yiming earlier. Distantly, he traced the lines of the gemstone light embedded there, getting his thoughts in order.

Yiming was right. It was out of his hands. There wasn’t anything else he could do about it.

And he did have a duel to prepare for.

He rose to his feet and headed to the meditation room.

He sat down cross-legged on the cushion at the center of the room. Closed his eyes.

Then he reached for Absolute Mind Command and whispered, “See Maeva.”

And then he was in Amyas’s old room. His room, in a previous life. Small, square, pastel-white walls. A single, narrow bed under a small window, a crammed bookcase opposite it. On the other side, a simple desk with plain, steel-mesh chair in front of it, turned the other way.

He was sitting on that chair, facing the bed.

Maeva was across from him, on the bed, yellow sundress and white lab coat spilling over the covers, a book in her lap, her back against the wall, her head resting on the window frame. She gave him that sweet, sad smile she so often did. “Hello, Amyas.”

Normally he didn’t bother with full hallucinations like this. He usually just brought Maeva into the real world. It was easier to keep some distance, that way. But he didn’t know how Yiming had gotten into his rooms, and he wasn’t taking any chances. He’d rather not be seen pacing around, talking to the wind.

“Hello, Maeva.”

She hopped off the bed and slid the book away in the bookcase. It was all for show, really. She didn’t exist when he wasn’t calling on her. But he appreciated the theater.

“So, what will it be?” she asked. “Tomorrow’s duel? Or would you rather talk about—”

“The duel,” Jieyuan said.

“Right.” Maeva settled back onto the bed, bunched up the covers about her, over her knees. “Let’s see. Good news or bad news first?”

“Good news?” Jieyuan perked up. He hadn’t been expecting anything. “There’s good news?”

“Oh, you wound me, little brother,” Maeva said, pressing a hand to her chest. “You think so little of my abilities”

“Maeva, you have no abilities. You’re a hallucination. You only know what I know.” Those words were mostly for his own benefit. It was something he forced himself to say every once in a while, to ground himself when talking with Maeva. A reminder.

Maeva sniffed disdainfully. Sure, sure. Your knowledge—but filtered through Maeva’s viewpoint. And she was smarter than you by miles. Moreover, your subconscious has been working on something for a while now—I’m just putting a different perspective on it, speeding up the process.”

She patted the covers neatly over her legs, then looked up at him. “Now, good news and bad news. Do you want them or not?”

“Of course.”

She raised a dainty eyebrow.

Jieyuan sighed, but couldn’t himself from smiling. “Please.” Nor could he stop himself from adding, in a sugary tone, “Pretty please, with sugar on top.”

Maeva gave him a mock scowl—then broke out into giggles. “All right, Amyas. Good news? I’ve got a trump card you can use against Daojue tomorrow.”

A trump card. He wouldn’t say no to that. “And the bad news?”

“You probably won’t master it in time. And even if you do, it still might not be enough.”

That sounded like a challenge.

And Jieyuan liked challenges.

“Then time’s a-wasting. And anything’s better than nothing. Hit me.”

And she did.

And Jieyuan realized—

Maybe, just maybe, he had a real shot at beating Daojue after all.