Zang Shenhe rarely spoke to other people about her plans. Only two would ever listen to her anyway; her fellow Elder, Chongyun, and the Patriarch. With Chongyun, he was one of the few who didn’t seem to despise her presence, and they were even cordial. She hadn’t thought their relationship anything special, yet according to Lord Shen Yu, Chongyun had declared that she was the true leader of the Sect once its dark truths were revealed to all.
She didn’t yet know why he had done it instead of declaring himself the new leader. The cynical part of her thought it was simply to improve his own position, but Chongyun had never struck her as grasping.
The other she spoke to was the Patriarch, to gain his favour and hopefully his trust...even though she now knew that that endeavor was doomed from the start.
The Patriarch had always been aloof and dismissive, bored by her appearance and words. But...she had needed to tell somebody. So she drew on the only memories she had of somebody who might tell her, the only person whose opinion on her path forward actually mattered.
Wen had said Nezan always told her the truth, no matter if she didn’t want to hear it or if it was painful. Shenhe could only hope he would offer her the same courtesy.
Now, Nezan sat before her. In contrast to the Patriarch, he gave her his full and undivided attention as she explained her intentions to him. The fox gave no outward reaction, simply staring at her until she said her piece. She met those eyes, for she would weather his criticism without flinching.
At the end of it, Nezan closed his eyes. He mulled over her plan.
“You’re entirely too much like your aunt, you know? Wen did not do things by halves either,” the fox said. Before, Shenhe would have beaten to near death any who dared to compare her to the ‘arch-traitor.’ Killed them for certain if they were an enemy. Yet this time, she could feel the fondness and the honest praise in the fox’s voice. She waited patiently for his verdict.
“I cannot say I am displeased by what you are planning, Zang Shenhe. My only question is: why? Why did you choose this path?”
Part of it was out of guilt. Part of it was out of a desire to atone. Part of it was to claim a birthright and history denied to her.
But all of those were selfish reasons.
‘Strength above all, to protect what we love’, Zang Yong’s words echoed in her mind.
All her life she had been told to crush her love. To harden her heart, for that was how a true Zang became strong. She always felt weak when she could not fully give in to the Patriarch’s words.
Zang Shenhe did love the Shrouded Mountain, its beauty and its splendor.
She loved the Howling Fang Mountains, their home. Some of her fondest memories were when she was an Outrider, going to villages who did not know who she was and defending them from the things that meant them harm. It was where the black hate for the foxes had come from—the fury that they would involve the mortals of the province, prey on them, and kill them.
She loved her disciples. She loved the men and women under her command, who had chosen to follow her into the north against demons.
She could even say she loved some of their family. Fengfeng, who Shenhe had shielded from the worst of things. Li—who had never looked at her with disgusted eyes. Her heart had ached when she found out he had died, and her path of vengeance had been for him. She loved her mother and her father, the stress of the Patriarch’s ire withering them away so long ago.
“Because it is the only one I can walk,” she answered, staring directly at the fox.
It was the only path that wouldn’t make her a coward or an oathbreaker—the path that Zang Yong and Zang Wen would have walked. A path of penance, a path of redemption.
“Then...you will have what support I can give you, Zang Shenhe,” Nezan stated.
Shenhe bowed her head in thanks.
======================
Shenhe walked forward through the snow towards the fortress where the rest of her sect was staying. Her eyes were forward, and her back was straight. There were numerous eyes upon her, the people in Master Rou’s home giving her a head start as the other members of her sect walked forward to watch.
Just like she did.
And then, one stepped forward. He was an Outrider, one of Zeng’s men. He looked nervous, but resolute.
“What about Elder Zeng, Elder Shenhe?” the disciple, Huan Chen, asked. She saw the same nervousness repeated on many others—Zeng was clearly well-liked by his men.
The words made all in the courtyard pause.
The man swallowed thickly when Shenhe turned his gaze to him...then up to one of the arrow-slit windows, where a shadow looked on at the proceedings.
A part of her wished to repay him for every insult he had done to her. To rebuke him. To judge him. Instead, she let out a breath...and extended her hand.
“Zang Zeng fought nobly and was prepared to offer his life for the good of his subordinates. The same offer is open to him. Elder Zeng may journey with us and take what is his from the mountain. After that...it is up to him. He may stand trial or he may leave, never to see the Shrouded Mountain again. It is the same chance I shall give to every member of the Zang Clan. The guilty, and only the guilty, shall feel our wrath.”
The man bowed at the waist.
“Shenhe!” somebody shouted.
“Shenhe!” another took up the call.
A chant began, shouting her name over and over again, the disciples' eyes locked upon her. The feeling of their trust was...bittersweet.
“Master Rou has given us a week to rest and heal. Rest and recover. And on the seventh day, we return to the Howling Fang Mountains!”
Her order was met with enthusiasm—and doubly so when Pi Pa arrived with the boar, bearing more loads of rice and pickled vegetables—a feast as grand as any held at the Mountain, moreso in some cases.
Finally, Shenhe allowed herself a smile.
A smile that persisted until Shen Yu stood before her again and asked for her presence in the nearby town.
==========================
The Lord Magistrate stared straight ahead, the light of the setting sun filling his office.
“I beg your pardon, who is coming?” he asked as his stomach churned.
“The Cloudy Sword Sect, the Soaring Heaven’s Isle Sect, and one of the Emperor’s men,” the old man before him said. “They will be here soon.”
Behind him Jin bowed, clearly contrite.
The Lord Magistrate sat down heavily in his chair.
Internally, he started screaming.