囊中之錐 (náng zhōng zhī zhuī) - an awl in a bag, ie. a hidden danger.

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A month passed quickly.

Zeyi spent many waking hours in the antechamber with Cheng Guk Lung, drafting decrees and policies and arbitrating arguments between the ministers. She would sit alone in the gardens of the palace when she could, the scroll with the Wūdāng Sect's Yīn and Yáng cultivation technique laid out before her. Fan Bi'an's voice still spoke to her at times, and she spoke back, a little guiltily. Was it wrong that she enjoyed their conversations? At these times, the demonic and spiritual energies swirled peacefully within her three dantian, and breathing had never been so easy.

If she made it to a bed, she would fall asleep alone, but wake up to find a slumbering Gong Lau Yan tucked up beside her, her usually cool skin made warm by a night snuggled together.

Gong Lau Yan, for her part, haunted Chun's rivers during the crepuscular hours, often in loong shape. Rumours began to emerge of a dragon in the waterways, its presence imbuing spiritual powers to the waters.

On a rare moment they were both free, the two of them came across the necromancer, seated in the woods three li east of Qianban. In female form, she sat amongst the leaves, eyes closed, surrounded by the forms of ghostly creatures, glowing like moonlight. Yuan Yi Feng knelt behind them, arms around her neck, gravely watching the animal spirits. Feeling they were seeing something they should not, Zeyi and Gong Lau Yan crept away.

“East,” the necromancer said, walking through the door of the antechamber with Yuan Yi Feng following behind. The three people in the room looked up, dazed, surrounded by papers. Gong Lau Yan realised she had been folding a request for repairs to the palace library into an approximation of a gold ingot. She smoothed it out hurriedly.

The hell's she on about? Fan Bi'an's voice asked Zeyi cheerfully.

“What's east?” Cheng Guk Lung asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“That foxy bastard.”

“Tsaam Lei?” Gong Lau Yan frowned.

There had been no news of the wu lei jing. With his last known location being Yamato, over the sea, it seemed that, like the fox he was, he had gone to earth.

“It seems he may be in Dzue, Lady Gong,” Yuan Yi Feng explained. “The animal spirits say they saw him at the border of Shisuan.”

Gong Lau Yan frowned even harder. Zeyi poked her between the brows. “Ow. Maybe he's starting to remember who he was?”

“Only way for us to be knowing is by catching the vermin,” the necromancer growled.

“Will you be coming with us, Lady Gong?” Yuan Yi Feng asked quietly.

Before Zeyi could respond for her, Gong Lau Yan squeezed her shoulder, the crystal lotus gently swaying from her ear. “No, Yuan Yi Feng. I'm not ready to face him yet. I still remember when he was just a cheeky little fox who liked to play tricks.”

Everyone viewed this admission with surprise.

“I'll be going with Zeyi to the remains of Ming Yuet. The notes left by Mun Gong on this map make me uneasy.” She tapped the paper. “... Siu Lei would get attached to people easily. He can transform into many humanoid forms, and he's fast.”

“The Lady Eitsu requested information about wu lei jing from me, when I saw her several months ago,” Cheng Guk Lung provided. “The writings left by my Great-aunt, The Sage Star, say that he was faster than 'Ah Bik' and 'Gaam Si-hing'. Do you know who they are?”

“Do I know?” Gong Lau Yan's expression was pain and pride all at once. “Gaam Yuk Ying, the Jade Exorcist, direct disciple of Old White, the Divine Tiger of the West. And Ah Bik, Little Chan Bik, the Drifting Star. She was the direct disciple of the Vermilion Bird, and one of the Two Stars, along with your Great-Aunt.” She shook, and closed her eyes. “Did she not leave any writings about her relationship with Chan Bik?”

“None that I've seen.” Cheng Guk Lung said, furiously scrawling notes on the back of a piece of paper he had randomly grabbed from the piles.

“That girl, so practical. Not even writing about her own lover.”

Cheng Guk Lung's brush froze, creating a large blot. Not for the first time, Zeyi was reminded of the immense gulf of years between them, that Gong Lau Yan would refer to someone, a renowned figure, who had died long before Zeyi's birth as 'that girl'.

Cheng Guk Lung cleared his throat. “Also, I remember she said he has a great sense of the health of his forest, shot leaves like knives, and could hum a tune to make the trees move and confuse trespassers, although-”

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“He's tone deaf,” Gong Lau Yan said in unison with him. “Yes, he was always terrible at singing.”

“So what, we should be challenging him to a singing contest?” the necromancer grumbled.

“Well then you'd win.” Yuan Yi Feng smiled. “You have a very nice voice.”

“Stop being so damned embarrassing!”

“What do you mean, cride?”

A knocking at the door interrupted their flirting. A guard in spring green livery slid the door open and bowed to Cheng Guk Lung. “Your Majesty, some visitors have arrived. They are looking for your guests.”

“Who are they?”

“They introduced themselves as Haat Ngan Wan and Xiè Wújiù.” The guard paused. “The latter appears to be a demon noble.”

“Dzue Yi-sang and her partner,” Zeyi murmured quickly to Cheng Guk Lung. He nodded to the guard to let the pair in.

They must have been stopped at the palace entrance, as it was some time before they arrived. At last, Haat Ngan Wan sailed in, looking more contented and healthy than they had ever seen her before. Xiè Wújiù followed, bending very slightly to avoid brushing the tips of her short, spiky hair in the doorway. She straightened and caught sight of the necromancer.

They stared at one another for a moment, arms folded. The muscles in their forearms twitched.

Haat Ngan Wan sighed. Yuan Yi Feng smiled as though they had become a single-celled organism.

The necromancer and Xiè Wújiù nodded to each other curtly.

“Your Majesty,” Haat Ngan Wan bowed to the ground. “I am Haat Ngan Wan, also known as Dzue Yi-sang.”

“Please stand, Yi-sang. I've heard a great deal about you from Zeyi and Gong Lau Yan. I'm sorry I can't really offer you a seat, as you can see...”

“No trouble.”

Without a word, Xiè Wújiù knelt, one knee presented, and without a pause, Haat Ngan Wan sat on it.

The rest of the room stared. The necromancer's eyes shifted down to Yuan Yi Feng.

The monk was still smiling, but Zeyi was certain she heard them whisper out of the corner of their mouth, “Don't.”

The necromancer began to bend to the floor.

Every head swung around at the startled yelp from death-witch. She clutched her side, squirming, while the eternally-smiling Yuan Yi Feng looked questioningly at everyone. “Something wrong?”

“Are scary, muscly women popular now?” Gong Lau Yan murmured to Zeyi. “Should I be changing my look?”

“If that's so, I must have old-fashioned tastes,” Zeyi whispered back.

Haat Ngan Wan spoke without the slightest sense of embarrassment. “Cousin, how are you?”

“Well, Dzak Yaat.” It seemed that Haat Ngan Wan preferred to use Zeyi's Dzue name, but it felt strange. “I have improved the formula for Gong Dze's medicine. Here.”

She produced a small bottle, and Yuan Yi Feng eyed it avidly. “Yi-sang, may I...?”

At her nod, they took the bottle, broke the wax seal and tipped five round pills onto their hand. Gong Lau Yan and Cheng Guk Lung crowded around curiously too.

“Lily bulb... Liquorice... White Peony Root?” Yuan Yi Feng asked, sniffing the pills and the bottle. They closed their eyes and a faint green glow appeared around the pills in their hand. “Fritillary bulbs, Dong Quai, bellflower, figwort and monkeygrass roots, and rehmannia... prepared and unprepared.”

“Do ye have any idea what any of that was?” the necromancer muttered to Zeyi.

“Herbalism isn't my strong point,” Zeyi admitted. “Where's Sunny?”

“Out playing with a bunch of kids. Where do they all spawn from?”

“They're the children of the palace staff, mostly.”

Haat Ngan Wan was nodding approvingly. “Correct. You are...?”

“Yuan Yi Feng, Head Disciple of the Yuan Wei School of Healing.”

“Ah, I see. You're the successor of Master Yuen Muk.”

“You've heard of my Master?”

“He is well known in medical circles.”

Cheng Guk Lung took one of the pills and examined it closely. Gong Lau Yan threw one in her mouth.

“Tastes better than the last one.”

“It should last longer too.” Haat Ngan Wan stood, and Xiè Wújiù got to her feet. “We should be going.”

“Please stay a while,” Cheng Guk Lung insisted, tearing his eyes away from the pill.

“My Junior Sibling and their companion will be heading to Tsaam Lam soon,” Zeyi said. “You could travel together.”

“If you have time, I'd like to hear how the Demon Realm has been,” Gong Lau Yan added.

“I see that we're compelled to stay,” Haat Ngan Wan said, and the hint of a smile cracked her icy demeanour. “So be it.”

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A week later, and the group paused at the border, examining the defined line where the lush grassy hills of Chun abruptly turned to dry, leafless ruin. Dzue fell away south behind a pall of pale dust. Sunny sniffed and sneezed.

“We'll follow the border north from here,” Xiè Wújiù said. “The dry is very bad for Ngan Wan's skin, I want to avoid her walking through it as much as possible.”

What about our skin? Fan Bi'an's voice complained in Zeyi's head. Gong Lau Yan couldn't suppress the grin that she shot at Haat Ngan Wan, who merely said, “Are you not departing, Gong Dze?”

“Trying to get rid of me, Yi-sang?”

“Yes. Go away.”

With a little laugh, Gong Lau Yan tipped out her pills, swallowed one with some water, then transformed. Yuan Yi Feng and the necromancer observed her with complicated expressions.

With Zeyi in her usual place behind her antlers, Gong Lau Yan rose smoothly into the air, her green-brown scales shining. Soon, the other five were small specks in the distance, and then they were gone. Zeyi had wrapped a shawl around her face to shield it from the dry and dusty air, and she crouched low, until the ruins of Ming Dzue emerged from the haze.

They made a spiralling descent into the city, Gong Lau Yan unerringly headed for a specific location, despite the state of the place.

They landed, and when Gong Lau Yan was back in human form, her own scarf pulled over her face, she led the way towards one of the many crumbled buildings. It must have stood many storeys tall, once upon a time, but now only the ruins of the lowest floor remained. The remains of a fragile wooden sign lay across the doorway; Zeyi could just about make out the name 'Tang'.

In what was once the backroom, Gong Lau Yan began to search, lifting heavy stone aside easily, any remaining wood crumbling at the slightest touch. Zeyi did the same, tossing aside objects. They were clearing the floor quickly when Zeyi felt something different under the dust. She brushed it away to reveal a metal trapdoor, large enough for a person to enter.

“Lau Yan...”

Without hesitating, Gong Lau Yan flexed her arm, and pulled. Rather than coming up smoothly, the metal trapdoor tore away the wood, splinters scattering.

A swirl of dry air rose out of the yawning black abyss.