Chapter 84: A Potion In A Vial
“As I suspected,” Sun Mai said. “The evidence is almost impossible to detect. Only a Profound Master who has made multiple breakthroughs would notice that….” Sun Mai’s eyes flashed as he continued, “both of your meridians have been… touched.”
“Touched?” Sunan said.
“Perhaps manipulated is a better word, although I don’t think there was any ill intent involved.”
Rubbing her wrist, Bao said, “So you’re saying that my poem and Sunan’s dreams are the result of someone manipulating the Qi in our bodies?”
“Something like that,” Sun Mai replied, “although I can’t be sure of the details. I suspect that someone has been reaching out from the shadows to send you a message, likely a message to do with a confrontation with the Demon Emperor. After all, you both saw images similar to Sunan’s dream when you went on that wind dream with the True Shan and got close to Yao Gong Palace. Whoever this person is, he likely views himself as your friend and ally.”
“But why wouldn’t he just speak to us directly, or even send a written message?”
Sun Mai sighed again. “Likely for the same reason that we chose to seal away that chariot all those years ago. Interfering with the streams of time is a very dangerous thing.”
“Time?!” Sunan exclaimed. “You think this person, whoever he is, traveled through time?”
“Perhaps. The fluctuations in your meridians, they remind me of certain other fluctuations I’ve felt before.”
“The chariot?” Bao asked.
Sun Mai nodded. “Perhaps you have had a hidden ally on your side this entire time, slowly prodding you in the direction of victory, telling you secrets from the future!”
“I had the first dream in the Huang Mountains, decades ago...” Sunan said. Both he and Bao were clearly shaken.
After a moment, Sun Mai continued, “Sunan, the colored dots that made up that symbol, you said they were golden and silver, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“Just like the uniforms of the two divisions of the Dragon-Phoenix Sect….”
**
On one particular mountain peak in the Banyan Mountains was a cave that overlooked Heart’s Ridge and the Yao Yun Sea. That cave was where Hui had set up camp a few days before. For fear of attracting the attention of the Demon Emperor forces in Heart’s Ridge Prison, she chose not to light a fire, despite the fact that snow blanketed the mountain at this elevation. To stay warm she relied on thick garments and clever manipulation of the Qi in her meridians.
Currently, she was sitting at the mouth of the cave, looking down at the prison, thinking about stories she remembered from her childhood.
“The Defeat at Heart’s Ridge,” she murmured. “So much tragedy. The betrayal of Lin Cuirou. The death of far too many heroes. Mao Yun. Tie Gangwen. Wang Tian. Ma Ge.” She sighed. As a young girl, she had heard the whispered names of those heroes who had died in the Defeat of Heart’s Ridge a thousand years in the past. At that time, they had been little more than names.
Over the years, she had seen all of those heroes with her own eyes, and even spoken with a few of them in passing. They were real people to her now, and the thought of them falling in battle in a treacherous trap was heart-rending.
In the history she knew, the Defeat at Heart’s Ridge had been a crushing blow to the Dragon-Phoenix Sect. Bao and Sunan survived, but most of their closest friends, and their most powerful fighters, lost their lives. The resulting anguish and fury prompted Bao and Sunan to marshal the heroes of the land in a reckless assault on Yao Gong Palace that was an even worse defeat than Heart’s Ridge. Neither Bao, Sunan, nor any of the other martial heroes had returned from that assault, which had been the turning point that solidified the Demon Emperor’s power for the following millenium.
Hui looked down at the musical instrument she held in her hands, a set of pipes crafted from long, tubular shells, inlaid with pearl, jade, and gold, and inscribed with tiny magical symbols.
Hui had spent a decade in the Eastern Archipelagos to acquire the pipes, and had paid a heavy price to do so. She had lost a finger on her left hand, had been stabbed in the abdomen, and had even sacrificed half of the blood in her body in a ritual that nearly cost her her life. In the end, she returned to the mainland feeling battered, but victorious.
“The Kun-Peng Pipes,” she murmured. “Were the True Shan right? Can these pipes really turn Heart’s Ridge into a victory instead of defeat?”
She had to believe that the pipes did possess that power. If they didn’t, then her torturous adventure in the Eastern Archipelagos would turn out to be a cruel joke on the part of fate.
“I spent so many decades holding back, refusing to interfere, terrified of causing damage to the streams of time. And now I intend to smash at them with a hammer. Is this the right thing to do? Is this what Master would have done?”
As the cold mountain air blew against her face, Hui looked down at Heart’s Ridge Prison, and fingered the images of fish and birds carved into the Kun-Peng Pipes.
“It won’t be very long now. Not very long at all…”
**
It was from the salt mines that the leaders of the Dragon-Phoenix Sect went about organizing one of the most complicated tasks they had ever undertaken: regathering the sect.
The empire was huge, but the Dragon-Phoenix Sect was no small organization. There were over six thousand disciples between the two divisions, and that wasn’t even counting the outer sect. Even if the lower-ranking disciples were left out, the ones who had only made one or two breakthroughs in Qi cultivation, there were still thousands of members.
To move such a large number of people through the empire unnoticed would be no simple task.
Therefore, a three-pronged approach was finally decided upon. The disciples who had dispersed to locations north of the Banyan Mountains would gather in Yu Zhing. Those who had scattered into the Banyan Region itself, and the Jian Shu Forest, would gather in Xuanlu. Thirdly, a smaller group, mostly the elite disciples and top fighters, would go to Zun City, which was very close to the salt mines.
After the orders were sent out, the leaders in the salt mines had little to do other than wait. A few of them left on important tasks, such meeting with key disciples in their division, or retrieving powerful weapons or artifacts that would likely be useful in the coming days.
Thankfully, they did receive updates via the information networks operated by Li Runfa, as well as the Eyes of the Phoenix who reported in to Wang Tian.
Li Runfa’s speculations were proved absolutely correct: all of the captured women, children, and elderly folks were being taken to Heart’s Ridge. There were a few reports of martial heroes attempting to raid the prison fortress there, presumably in an attempt to free certain captives.
No such attempts were successful.
There were a handful of other martial artists who joined them. Blackleaf from the Hen-Shi Sect seemed very irritated to be forced to work with them, but clearly recognized that there was strength in numbers. Kind Devil Fuling also appeared, the same old man who had tried to rob them years ago on a tributary of the Southern Fei River.
Disturbingly, there were reports of ships being built in a makeshift shipyard just below the fortress. Supposedly, they were huge, with multiple masts and decks, apparently designed to hold large numbers of people.
They could only speculate why such ships were being built. On the one hand, it seemed to indicate that the captives in Heart’s Ridge Prison were meant to be kept alive. On the other hand, it also indicated that there was a plan to move the prisoners to another location. But where?
To the north, the Yangu Plains were now mostly a desolate wasteland. To the south was Dhamma, and beyond that Nangu. Further in the deep ocean was the Eastern Archipelagos and the Desert Island of the Hechi. None of those places seemed likely destinations for a large group of captives.
It was a source of much debate among the leaders of the sect, but in the end, no one could come up with any good theories, not even Li Runfa.
However, it did impress upon them the fact that time was running out.
**
Lin Cuirou was one of the leaders who had left the salt mines on important business. Currently, he was sitting at a table in a teahouse in Zun City, examining himself in a copper mirror, when a man in tan robes sat down at the table next to him.
“Have you tried the White Monkey Tea?” the man asked.
Lin Cuirou’s eyes flickered away from the mirror for a moment to look at the man. He seemed ordinary in every way, neither tall nor short, neither handsome nor ugly. He was the type of person who was instantly forgettable.
“I prefer the Yellow Leaf Tea,” Lin Cuirou responded.
“But that’s only suitable when the west wind blows.”
“All winds blow from the central plains.”
The man in tan chuckled. “You picked a nice table. Very private.”
Lin Cuirou smoothed his eyebrows out and then put the mirror away. “Do you have it?”
“Of course.” The man in tan reached into his robe and pulled out a small jade vial which he placed onto the table.
Lin Cuirou reached out to grab it, but before he could, the other man’s hand shot out and clamped down onto his wrist.
“Do not take the potion until at least one of them is dead,” the man said. “I cannot emphasize this enough. The King of the Pure Ones is taking a big risk by providing the payment for your services in advance. He won’t take kindly to duplicity.”
Lin Cuirou jerked his wrist out of the man’s grasp and then took the vial. “I’m not a fool,” he said. “In addition to the main effects of the potion, it will also give me superhuman strength, correct?”
“That’s right,” the man said, pulling his hand back. “You will live forever, your beauty will be like that of a statue, and you will be so strong that no hand will be able to harm you.”
“What if I need that strength to do the killing?” Lin Cuirou asked. “Seems kind of silly to wait until after the deed to gain extra strength.”
The man in tan rose to his feet. “Kill at least one of them, then take the potion. Afterward, you will have a status higher than you can possibly imagine.”