Chapter 54: Unresolved Resolution

Chapter 54: Unresolved Resolution

54

Unresolved Resolution

I

It didn’t take long into Bao Shan’s interrogation for Hao Zhen’s hopes of slipping anything past the man to die a miserable death.

Bao Shan seemed hellbent on leaving no stone unturned. Every time Tian Jin mentioned an event, Bao Shan asked for the date. Every time Tian Jin mentioned someone, Bao Shan asked for names and physical descriptions. Each and every single detail was scrutinized.

There was really only one thing Hao Zhen was concerned about. The Radiant Light Sword. Lan Yue’s possession of Radiant Light Talismans, Tian Jin’s mysterious abilities and the mystery of his bloodline—none of that was too big of a deal. The Radiant Light Sword was a different matter.

Hao Zhen could think of a couple of different ways the situation would play out when Bao Shan found out about the sword, and it wasn’t the possibility of being forced to give it up that troubled him. No, the scenario that he kept going over in his head was the one in which Bao Shan decided to keep the Radiant Light Sword for himself and killed the three of them to ensure their silence on the matter.

Hao Zhen was the son of a merchant. He liked to think he knew greed better than most. It didn’t help that that was hardly an uncommon scenario in cultivation novels.

As discretely as he could, Hao Zhen studied the prime elder.

Bao Shan still had his attention fixed on Tian Jin, listening intently but otherwise impassive. Even sitting down, he towered over them. And that was just about the extent of Hao Zhen’s impression of the man. Bao Shan didn’t strike Hao Zhen as someone greedy or duplicitous, but he’d only met Bao Shan that morning and had literally only exchanged a few words with him. Both Tian Jin and Lan Yue only had good things to say about Bao Shan, but Hao Zhen wasn’t sure how good judges of character they were.

If Hao Zhen was right about the Weave, then it wouldn’t put them in a certain-death situation. That thought brought him some comfort at first, but then he saw the problem with it. If Bao Shan did act up, they would have a way out. Lan Yue could use her remaining Radiant Light Imprisonment Talisman to impede him for a while, and they could make a break for it.

That’d throw them into a very messy situation, though, and right now all Hao Zhen wanted was to burrow himself in a mattress and sleep for a week. He’d overused Ethereal String Puppetry and driven himself almost to collapse twice already today, and he could really use some rest and recovery. Stamina pills could only keep him going for so long.

Just by itself, the very idea that having a trump card might land them in trouble was already enough to give Hao Zhen a headache.

After Tian Jin finished recounting their mission in Gentle Green Valley and Ke Li’s assassination attempt, as he was about to get started on their debrief on the Missing Hall, Bao Shan raised his hand.

Tian Jin immediately ceased speaking, and Hao Zhen found himself the target of Bao Shan’s attention. “Disciple Hao Zhen, as you were also involved, I also need to ask you some questions before we can proceed,” Bao Shan said. “Can you recall who was the disciple it was that gave you the mission?”

Hao Zhen scrambled to put his thoughts in order. “I’m afraid she never gave me her name.”

Bao Shan’s usual thorough questioning followed, and Hao Zhen did his best to describe the woman from the Mission Hall, though he couldn’t remember too many details. It had been well over a month now, and at the time, he’d been far more concerned about the mission than the disciple informing him of it.

Many more questions followed, and Hao Zhen found himself giving his full account of the events in Gentle Green Valley. Bao Shan then had Lan Yue give her own account of the same events, though he didn’t press her for details nearly as much as he’d pressed Hao Zhen and Tian Jin. Whether that was because Bao Shan already had two exhaustive accounts of the events or because he knew her true identity, Hao Zhen couldn’t tell, but he was leaning toward the latter.

Once Lan Yue was done, Bao Shan returned his attention to Tian Jin and had him recount their return to the sect and their debriefing in the Mission Hall. Hao Zhen’s and Lan Yue’s accounts of the same events followed.

Then the moment came—Tian Jin finished going over their fight with Du Qing’s cousin Du Jian and his group and moved on to the inner elder’s arrival and their subsequent escape.

“We managed to... halt the elder momentarily,” Tian Jin said. It was the first time since the start of the interrogation that he had shown any signs of hesitation. “We then escaped on Ke Li’s magical cloud.”

Hao Zhen waited for the question to come. Instead, Bao Shan glanced at Lan Yue, who winced.

“I see,” Bao Shan said simply. “And then?”

“While we were running away, I felt as if something was calling me from far away,” Tian Jin said. “The call was coming from a specific direction, so we decided to fly towards it. We ended up in a clearing with a waterfall. Behind it, we found a cave.”

“Hmmm.” Bao Shan leaned forward in his seat. “Proceed.”

Hao Zhen kept an eye trained on Bao Shan as Tian Jin told him about finding Protector Na Ren’s corpse, the Radiant Light Sword, and how they’d utilized the arrays on the cave and the sword to kill the inner elder after them, then the inner disciple. As it turned out, Tian Jin’s discretion didn’t extend particularly far.

At the mention of the Radiant Light Sword, Bao Shan’s eyebrows jumped, but that was the extent of his reaction. Oddly, there weren’t any interruptions from the prime elder as Tian Jin went over the events that took place in the cave.

Tian Jin seemed to have found Bao Shan’s silence as odd as Hao Zhen did. “Next would be our confrontation with Du Qing this morning,” Tian Jin said. “Should I continue, or...”

Bao Shan didn’t answer at first. Rather, he only stared at Tian Jin, his gaze so intense that Hao Zhen could feel it even though it wasn’t directed at him. “I’d like to see the Radiant Light Sword first,” Bao Shan eventually said, his voice even more controlled than usual, almost tight.

Here we go. Hao Zhen let the tension he was feeling run through his body unhindered, readying his muscles in case he suddenly needed to move.

Without a word, Tian Jin produced the sword from his spatial ring.

“May I?” Bao Shan asked, and Tian Jin handed him the sword.

With a bated breath, Hao Zhen watched Bao Shan study the sword, looking it over almost reverently as he turned it this way and that. Then Bao Shan ran his left hand over the blade, before inspecting his unharmed palm. “You used this sword to kill the inner elder?” Bao Shan finally asked.

“That’s correct.”

After scrutinizing the sword a few moments longer, Bao Shan handed it back to Tian Jin. “Channel spiritual power into it.”

Tian Jin nodded, then held the sword out in front of him. The inscriptions on the blade lit up.

Bao Shan inhaled sharply. He looked from the sword to Tian Jin. “Do you know what this means?”

“Only a descendant of the sect’s founder can activate it,” Tian Jin said quietly. The sword stopped glowing.

“Correct,” Bao Shan said. “I’ve never asked you about your background.”

“You haven’t,” Tian Jin agreed. He didn’t elaborate further.

Bao Shan gave Tian Jin a long, searching look. Then, with a sigh, he sunk into his chair. “This complicates things. There are people in the sect who wouldn’t appreciate the sudden appearance of a descendant from the founder. Particularly one as talented as you. There are those who’d feel... threatened by your presence.”

Bao Shan glanced at Lan Yue, who looked as confused as Hao Zhen felt. Then Bao Shan gave her another look, one loaded with some meaning Hao Zhen failed to catch, and her eyes widened in clear realization. Then she paled, only adding to Hao Zhen’s own confusion. Tian Jin only reacted with the faintest of frowns, taking the implied warning in stride.

“I must keep my possible connection to the founder a secret, then?” Tian Jin asked.

“Precisely.”

Tian Jin ran his eyes over the Radiant Light Sword. He still held it in his grasp, propped on the table. “And the sword?”

Bao Shan eyed the sword as if it was a puzzle he couldn’t solve. He made no move to retrieve it from Tian Jin. “You may hold onto it, at least for the time being. You did find it, and as a descendant of the founder, it is your birthright. Avoid letting others see it, however, and use it only as a last resort. There’s still the matter of your bloodline, and other elders might disagree with me on this matter and see fit to take it from you.”

Du Qing let his hands hang by his side, dropping by his side. He felt the urge to curl up, to bunch his knees together against his chest and hold onto whatever warmth his body still retained, but he was better than that. Someone could arrive at any moment, and he had an image to maintain. Instead, he forced himself to keep his back straight and his legs crossed, and brought his hands to rest over his thighs. Whatever urge to shiver he felt, he killed with prejudice. Should anyone look at him, they’d see a man in control. He may have lost his power, but he still had his pride.

Or at least what remained of it.

Today had been a day of many firsts, all of them unwelcome. The first time he’d ever been so severely wounded. The first time he’d ever been so thoroughly outclassed—outclassed at all, really—in a fight against someone at the same level. And the first time he caught a glimpse of his master’s hidden depths. He didn’t know which one of those firsts was the worst, but there was little doubt as to which one was the most concerning.

Take my daughter hostage. Play along.

The words echoed in his mind. Taunted him. A tantalizing truth at his fingertips.

He’d always known that there was more to Bao Shan than the eye. You didn’t rise to the position he had by being as righteous as he portrayed himself as. You didn’t become the leader of the Justice Hall as a mundaneborn without playing the game. He’d grossly underestimated just how much of himself his master kept beneath the surface.

Footsteps came from the corridor, and Du Qing focused on the door, readying himself. It’d been at least an hour since he’d been dumped in his cell, and it was his first time hearing someone come near.

The same inner elders from before appeared. Wordlessly, one of them motioned for him to stand up. Du Qing complied, moving with ease he didn’t feel. They brought him down the corridor, and into an adjacent wing. Within the first few moments he’d already known where they were headed, and so he strode towards their destination, setting the pace even though he was the one being supposedly escorted. The elders probably knew what he was doing, but they said nothing.

Du Qing knew those two—they were Bao Shan’s men through and through, and even though he’d seen them more times than he could through the years, he could count on two hands the number of times he’d seen them speak. They were the perfect subordinates—loyal to fault, and almost entirely devoid of desires, or even a sense of self. Leagues better than any of the men Du Qing had managed to recruit over the years.

He’d used to think they were wasted on a man like Bao Shan. A blind fool—that’s what I was. Du Qing smiled. He couldn’t help it. Bao Shan had outplayed him so thoroughly that he had no choice but to admire it.

Once they stepped into the corridor where the interrogation rooms were, he slowed, letting his escort lead him to the correct one. They came to a stop in front of one of the doors near the end of the corridor. One of the elders stayed by his side, whereas the other one knocked, then opened the door.

Bao Shan immediately caught Du Qing’s eye. His master stood directly opposite the door, sitting down in front of a large table that took up most of the room. In front of him, on the table, was a single jade slip and a black pill box.

Without needing to be prompted, Du Qing stepped inside the room, and the inner elders, who’d remained outside, closed the door. Du Qing then sat down on the only other chair in the room, facing Bao Shan from the other side of the table.

Like all of the sect’s interrogation rooms, it was bare save for the table and the chairs, and entirely built from cold white stone. But unlike the holding cells, interrogation rooms came with soundproofing matrixes. He could see them inscribed on the walls, floor, and ceiling. Whatever happened inside the room, whatever sounds left their mouths, wouldn’t be heard by anyone outside.

“Here’s what will happen,” Bao Shan said. As usual, his master spared no time for something as meaningless as a preamble. “A week from now, Du Qing will die. Death by blazing.”

Du Qing caught the implication immediately. He was no stranger to this kind of dance. Except, when he danced, he was usually the leader, rather than the follower. And he was still coming to terms that it was his master—uptight, righteous Bao Shan—he was dancing with now. “Let me guess. That Du Qing isn’t necessarily me?”

“If you cooperate, yes,” Bao Shan said, simply. “You may give up your name for someone else. Let another Du Qing die in your place.”

Du Qing drummed his fingers on the table, letting their movement serve as an outlet for all the anxiety he felt, focusing on their rhythm rather than that of his racing heart. “But that would leave me without a name. Without an identity.”

“You’d receive another.”

“And what do you gain from it?” Du Qing asked. Because that was the question. That was always the question. He affected confidence, but something dark and heavy twisted in his guts.

He was about to sell his soul. There was little doubt he’d take the offer, regardless of what it was. But the offer was still important. The conditions would set the rules of the game, and depending on what he could glean from it, he might just glimpse a way out.

“You’d do whatever I tell you to do,” Bao Shan said, and Du Qing had to expend real, significant effort to stop himself from balling his hands into fists. “Your life will would be mine, and I’d do with it as I saw fit.”

That was no taunt, but a simple statement of a fact. There was no gloating in Bao Shan’s expression. His words didn’t drip with malice. He spoke, and acted, as he always did.

Hard. Impassive. Disciplined.

“And why would I comply?”

Bao Shan pushed the pill box in front of him forward. “Because you’ll take the pill inside of it. And then you’ll need the antidote.”

Du Qing eyed the box but made no move to take it. He was hardly surprised. “And this antidote—it’ll be a temporary one? One that must be taken constantly? Every week, perhaps?”

“Every fortnight.”

Fortnight? Du Qing took a moment to consider that. Every fortnight would give him quite a bit of freedom. It made for a rather long leash. Whatever Bao Shan had planned for him likely involved long-term assignments.

“And if I refuse?”

“Then you’ll keep your name.”

And die a burning, gruesome death a week from now, went unsaid.

Du Qing opened the box. Inside it was a yellow-colored pill. It had no scent. He picked up the pill, rolled it between his fingers. “Why that farce from earlier? Why have me take Bao Yun hostage? You could've used Radiant Light Barrier on me from the beginning.”

Bao Shan only stared at him. He said nothing, but Du Qing understood it all the same.

“You never approved of the two of us, did you?” The role Bao Shan had him play earlier must’ve done a good job of burning all bridges with Bao Yun. Even if he somehow managed to escape from Bao Shan’s control later, he’d be hard-pressed to convince Bao Yun he’d only moved against her because her father had forced his hand.

“She can do better,” Bao Shan said, with all the certainty of the father who didn’t want his daughter involved with the street rat he and his daughter had picked up all those years ago, no matter how he’d grown since then.

Du Qing took the pill. Felt it slide down his throat and settle in his stomach.

“I’ll kill you,” Du Qing said. He didn’t cry. He didn’t scream. It wasn’t a threat. Just like Bao Shan always did, he simply stated a fact. “Not now, but I’ll kill you eventually.”

And Tian Jin. And Hao Zhen. And Duo Lan.

And whoever else stood in his way. Past, present, and future.

“You’ll try,” Bao Shan said. Then he pushed the jade slip towards him. “You’ll record the full list of crimes you’ve committed, and everyone you’ve worked with.”

Du Qing grabbed the jade slip. “I’m more useful to you with my men.”

“I’m aware. Over the week, we’ll discuss which ones you’ll get to keep, and which ones will be... sacrificed.”

Du Qing sighed, then closed his eyes and got to work. He wouldn’t include everyone. There was little doubt Bao Shan had been keeping track of his actions from the beginning and had an idea of his associates. But there were those Du Qing was sure Bao Shan didn’t know. People outside the sect. And it’d be through them that he’d find a solution to the poison he’d taken.

He didn’t know what Bao Shan wanted yet, but he’d find out. And he’d derive no little pleasure from tearing all the man’s plans apart.