Chapter 60: TRUST YOUR BLOOD

CHAPTER

60

TRUST YOUR BLOOD

JIEYUAN

—∞—

Meiyao’s duel against Yongyi was the last one of the day. All that was left was for the delegations to leave. Some elders would be hanging behind to arrange the next day’s matches and whatever else it was that they did, while the other elders would escort the disciples back to their respective palaces.

There usually wasn’t much in the way of fanfare to all of this. It was a fairly standard affair. The delegations would file out, one after the other, and that’d pretty much be the end of it.

Today, though, it seemed like the Gleaming Stone Sect’s side of the floor had become some sort of hot spot. Because after Xianjun’s mystifying little sojourn over on their side of the floor, now they had another little batch of visitors headed their way.

But the destination wasn’t Daojue this time. No, this time the newcomers had their gazes fixed on where Jieyuan, Yongyi, and Meiyao were standing. But considering who was coming—and which cabal they belonged to—it was Meiyao, specifically, they were looking at.

And it was no mere core disciple this time, either, like it’d been with Xianjun. It was a pair this time, and though one of them was a core disciple—Baisenzhou Houliao, of the Viridian Death Cult—the other was High Priest Tanqiao, of the same cult and clan.

Jieyuan watched the two of them with all the wariness Viridian Death Cultists warranted, particularly high-ranking members like the approaching pair. Which was to say, with pretty much all the wariness Jieyuan could muster. And then some more anyway, just in case. When cultists were involved, there was no such thing as being too careful.

The only cult Jieyuan was familiar with—familiar being a bit of an overstatement—was the Viridian Death Cult, and Jieyuan wasn’t sure if all cultists, regardless of cabal, were this way, or if Viridian Death Cultists were uniquely disturbing. That was rather low in Jieyuan’s list of things to figure out, though. Somewhere below curiosities like how long he’d survive inside the stomach of a chromal beast—which arguably had fewer risks involved than trying his luck with foreign cultists.

The pair’s approach did not go unnoticed. The disciples nearby went about quickly correcting that and ensuring they weren’t nearby anymore. From the elders in the back, Jieyuan heard some uneasy murmurs before Protector Yuyan silently stepped out from the group. With a subtle motion of her hand, the low drone of murmurs died, and the woman walked over, taking up position just behind Meiyao, who acknowledged her with a little nod but not much else.

Yongyi also drew a little closer to his sister, looking visibly tense. Like everyone else, he was had all his attention on the approaching pair—though Jieyuan suspected part of it might have been due to the rather bloody outcome of Houliao’s fight in the fifth round against Feiyuan, Yongyi’s maybe paramour. 

They shouldn’t be under any risk of danger. Jieyuan scanned the Gleaming Stone Sect’s delegation, and found Envoy Guodan standing with them as usual. She was also watching the High Priest and core disciple, looking mildly curious. And even if it weren’t for the envoy, unless Jieyuan had grossly misunderstood the situation, the last thing the Viridian Death Cult should want would be to wish Meiyao any harm.

But cultists weren’t exactly known for being reasonable, sensible folks. You could never know with them—not really—and the best advice when dealing with their sort was to always expect the worst. Their reputation was so bad, in fact, that it had led to the creation of the expression Viridian Death draw, widely used in Radiant Gold City when somebody drew an awful hand or, more broadly, was struck by a particularly grave case of rotten luck.

Perfectly sensible apprehension aside, though, Jieyuan had to admit that this was something that had been a long time coming. If anything, he was more surprised by how the Viridian Death Cult had taken so long to initiate contact with Meiyao, what with how often the cultists would stare at her. Being who they were, they didn’t even make an effort to hide or disguise their blatant staring. Yunzhu on her own still somehow managed to be worse than all the Viridian Death Cultists combined, but they were still an unnerving bunch.

Out of everyone there, Meiyao was probably the one who looked the most at ease. But Jieyuan knew her fairly well, and he could recognize the subtler signs of tension in the lines of her face and in the language of her body.

“Your Sacredness,” High Priest Tangqiao rumbled in a deep, wizened, rasping voice, his words falling heavy like an oath. Standing this close, Jieyuan saw that the elderly man was almost as tall as Daojue was, and built nearly as solidly.

Jieyuan was reminded of rumors he’d heard—it wasn’t often he came across cultivators that old—about how cultivators didn’t age like mundanes did. It wasn’t just the slowed rate at which they grew older. On top of that, the effects time had on them were for the most part superficial, changes to skin, hair, and features. A cultivator’s muscles didn’t atrophy or weaken with age, and neither did their brain.

Physically and mentally, cultivators would remain in their prime up to the moment they keeled over into their death bed. Wrinkled, withered, whitened—but all of it skin-deep.

“Your Sacredness.” The high priest stopped in front of their group, eyes on Meiyao, Houliao the core disciple—and likely from the same household—standing just behind. Next, he gave a deep, heartfelt bow that a tenth-sign redsoul had no business giving to a fourth-sign, and Houliao followed suit. “We stand your servants most devout.”

“High Priest.” Meiyao sounded different. Loftier—regal, even, and more than a touch indifferent. There was already an undercurrent of pride and arrogance to how Meiyao usually acted and spoke, but it wasn’t anything close to what she was currently putting on display.

She hadn’t moved a muscle—still the same pillar-straight stance, proud and tall, clan-born etiquette worn like a second skin. But her tone cast the way she held herself in a different light—one darker and colder—and lent her presence a weight it hadn’t carried before.

“To what do I owe this visit?” Meiyao asked.

This wasn’t Meiyao, the absurdly talented fourth-sign redsoul. This was Meiyao, daughter of Lianhua and the object of worship of the Viridian Death Cult. Their idol. The so-called Last Linzushen.

Jieyuan wasn’t sure it was a good idea to act that way and encourage them so, but he also couldn’t tell how much of Meiyao’s shift in behavior had been intentional. And Meiyao would better know how to handle the Viridian Death Cult than he did, at any rate.

“We meant to come pay our respects at the end of the tournament, Your Sacredness, for we did not wish to disturb you,” High Priest Tangqiao said, serious, and as far as Jieyuan could tell, the elderly man meant every word with all his soul. “But Nascent Priest Houliao, our generation’s Viridian Eye, has been blessed with a revelation, a Viridian Vision. One that concerns you, Your Sacredness, and as such we saw fit to bring the matter to your attention with haste.”

Viridian Eye. Viridian Vision. Neither were terms Jieyuan had ever heard before, but it hardly took a genius to grasp the implications. Now the question was whether this was just cult nonsense or whether precognition or clairvoyance were actually things.

High Priest Tangqiao’s respect and esteem for his much younger fellow cultist certainly seemed real enough as he moved aside so that Houliao—Nascent Priest Houliao, apparently, Viridian Eye extraordinaire—could step forward. The high priest, who was one of the most powerful cultivators of the Radiant Gold District—in both power and authority—was now showing deference to someone several generations younger and, more importantly, several soulsigns lower.

Houliao gave Meiyao another deep bow, like the one he’d given her earlier hadn’t been enough. And when he lifted his head, there was a heavy, solemn worship in his gaze, a raw sort of adoration and understated awe, as if Meiyao’s presence alone were a miracle manifested.

“Your Sacredness.” Houliao had a rather soft, gentle look to him, face oval, eyes large and roundish. But there was nothing soft about the man’s voice. He didn’t sound much different from the wizened high priest, in fact—all that was missing was that ancient, rasping quality. “It is my deepest honor to at last stand before a Kin of the Primeval Grace once again.”

Again, Jieyuan detected not a whit of mockery or even the slightest hint of pretense. Houliao was fully, wholly sincere.

The intensity of Houliao’s adoration was so strong that even Meiyao, who’d endured High Priest Tangqiao’s worshipful presence unblinkingly, seemed put off. But she quickly regained her composure, nodding stiffly, motioning for him to go on.

“I have been blessed with Visions of the Viridian, Your Sacredness, since I was but a sprout,” Houliao said. “For reasons beyond the understanding of us of mortal ken, the Viridian has seen fit to bequeath upon my unworthy self some of its myriad mysteries. Yesterday I was blessed with another Vision, and so I come to you with tidings most joyful and grand.”

There Houliao paused, taking a moment, like he had to restrain himself. When he spoke next, it was with barely contained fervor. “The Viridian awaits you, Your Sacredness. It calls for its Kin, for the time for the Promised Reunion is finally at hand, after thousands of years. You shall seek it, Your Sacredness, and come into your sacred birthright.”

Houliao was trembling now, voice shaky. “And once the Viridian Wreath sits upon your head, Your Sacredness, we shall be there, to serve as the roots and branches of your divine tree, to champion the new age you shall usher. For we are forever your servants most devout, and your will is our supreme imperative.”

It wasn’t just Houliao who seemed overcome with emotion. High Priest Tangqiao seemed barely holding back his own religious fervor, his deeply wrinkled face tight and stiff.

In stark contrast, Meiyao’s composure had shattered altogether now, and she regarded Houliao unsteadily, like she wasn’t sure what to do or to make of this whole situation. Jieyuan knew he wasn’t faring much better himself, and Yongyi and Yuyan appeared likewise stunned. The utter, fanatical conviction with which Houliao spoke was nothing short of chilling.

Meiyao seemed to fight a little internal war with herself before she asked, “I shall seek… the Viridian?”

“Yes,” Houliao said, steadily, his fervor abating slightly as he regarded her with something halfway between adoration and indulgence. “I understand Your Sacredness hasn’t been raised under the guidance of the Viridian Decree and might find my words mystifying, but that is of little import. The truth dwells in your sacred blood, even if it eludes Your Sacredness at the moment.”

“But what exactly does that mean?” Meiyao pressed.

“Your Sacredness needs not concern herself. The Viridian has shown the way and determined it to be so, and so it shall be. Trust the call of your blood, and you shall not be led astray.”

Incomprehensibly, that seemed to give Meiyao a pause, her expression flickering like she’d managed to understand something from that. “I… see.”

Both Houliao and High Priest Tangqiao kept on looking at Meiyao, expectantly. After a few seconds of silence, she asked, “Was that all?”

“That was all I had to share with Your Sacredness, yes,” Houliao said.

Meiyao nodded, and she gathered herself up, more like she’d been at the start. “You’re excused, then.”

Both cultists bowed deeply, then silently turned and made their way back to their delegation. The four of them—Jieyuan, Meiyao, Yongyi, and Protector Yuyan—watched them go in a heavy, somber sort of silence.

Jieyuan didn’t know about the others, but he had some further insight into the situation, one nobody else here did.

Everything else aside, he knew there was something special about Meiyao’s lineage, about the Linzushen, beyond their unusual appearance. The violetsoul Yikongwei Beidao had mentioned the clan in his jade books, and though Jieyuan didn’t know why, just the fact that they had caught a violetsoul’s interest in some form was significant all on its own.

And that wasn’t all.

Seek the Viridian. Jieyuan recalled the ominous feeling he’d gotten from the Fatebloom Heart when they’d been overflying Radiant Gold City. When he’d glanced at the Viridian Death Forest lying in the distance, at the Viridian Dome. He licked his lips.

He had a pretty good idea of what seeking the Viridian might mean. And what had been mere suspicion up to this point suddenly got a great deal more tangible.