Yue had never really known her father. Once her younger brother was born, he left for closed door meditation and didn’t return until sixteen years later—when her brother died. Yet she and Zhihao had spent their childhood living in his shadow. For Zhihao, it was a desperate struggle to live up to the name and prove himself worthy of one day inheriting the sect. Yue’s struggle was different.
She had a few memories of her father from before he left. Nothing concrete, just the vague sort of dreamlike impressions one kept of their earliest memories. Somehow even back then, she’d understood something about the way he looked at her—a disappointment. She was not what he wanted. It was only later that she’d understand why.
So Yue had grown up with her first fundamental understanding of the world being that her father, the man who had near absolute control over her life and death, considered her worthless. She was, at best, a backup—not to be heir herself, but to be married or traded off to create a ‘more suitable’ scion.
She’d never gotten along with other girls her age. They’d talk dreamily about finding a man and getting married and Yue would try her best not to gag. Even among cultivators, women of Qin generally only had one future, and the Awakening Dragon was a fairly traditional sect, even for the north. Any talk of actually pursuing one’s path to the end, striking out as a rogue and founding one’s own sect, or becoming an elder and taking on apprentices was met with laughter and mockery. A woman’s value was derived entirely from the man she married, and Yue was not blessed with the option to choose hers.
Only her mother supported her ambitions, and even then only in the cautious way of an elder doing their best to temper expectations without denying their child outright. Yan Hao was ostensibly her master, but it was Long Chunhua who taught Yue her craft.
And it was that very same craft that now allowed her to face her father—the tyrant that had ruled her life from afar—once and for all. That, and Yoshika’s help, of course.
Through a linked technique—not everything had to involve dual cultivation—Yue and Yoshika had combined their strength to create a divine art that expanded upon the Melody of the Dreaming Moon and merged each of their respective interpretations into a single effect powerful enough to ensnare even the legendary Yan De.
Her father raised an eyebrow and smirked at her as she confronted him, an entire army at his back—to say nothing of the other xiantian cultivators at his side.
“Yue! What a surprise to see you here—if indeed it’s really you and not just a projection. This illusion certainly does give the impression of your mother’s magic, but I hear you’ve been telling secrets.”
Yue tossed a stray lock of hair over her shoulder and scoffed, placing a hand on her hip as she glared at Yan De.
“My secrets are mine to tell, father. Mother shared them with me, and the Awakening Dragon has no claim to her ancestral techniques.”
“And the True Awakening?”
She smirked.
“Yoshika caught you off guard with that last time, did she? Someone had to preserve the origin of the technique you’ve spent so much time bastardizing. Of course I only just recently discovered that’s why Mother gave it to me. Were you ever planning to tell me I’m descended from dragons?”
The elders stirred at that, with even Yan Ren giving his master a questioning look as Yan De pursed his lips.
“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean. Where did you hear such a rumor?”
Yue rolled her eyes.
“No, we’re not playing that game. Let’s try again.”
She snapped her fingers and a blinding light emanated from the top of the jade pillar in the distance behind her. When the light cleared, Yan De was faced with...himself. He looked askance at Yue, but his doppelganger spoke first.
“I had planned to use the blood of dragons to give my descendants an edge once I left them behind, to ensure that my legacy would remain after my final ascension.”
Yue smiled and patted the copy on the shoulder, but he shrugged her off with a sneer.
“You were never meant to find out at all! I would have told my true scion in time, once he was ready. That worthless layabout ruined everything by getting himself killed.”
The real Yan De scowled to match his duplicate.
“What is this?! What an insulting mockery! Do you think you can sway us with such petty illusions?”
“Oh, this is no illusion, Yan De. At least, not in the sense that you are thinking. This is all quite real—I’m actually here, although you are not. Your perception of it is fueled by our technique, but this?”
She jerked her thumb at Yan De’s scowling reflection.
“My half of the technique lets you witness this without actually being here, trapping your minds within our song, but Yoshika? She takes a measure of your soul, and bears witness to what you truly are. This is a mirror, Yan De, and you cannot hide the truth from yourself.”
For the first time, her father looked uncertain of himself. Worried, even. Yue took no small pleasure in watching him begin to squirm as he realized what kind of power she had over him.
“So you say, but you have no proof—”
Yue looked past him, at the other experts assembled around him, and the army at their back.
“Look upon the jade pillar and consider what you see there. Do any of you have any doubt that I speak the truth?”
Few responded—most just kept staring up at the top of the pillar, entranced. One, the Austere Mountain elder known as Meng Qi, shook her head without looking away from it.
Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
“No. You could not represent...that, even through illusion, without meeting or exceeding me in my own domain. You have indeed taken the measure of my soul, at least.”
Yan De began to sweat, despite his lack of a body present.
“That proves nothing! Even if you do have the ability to create such a mirror within this world of illusion, that is a false image!”
Yue threw her head back and laughed—she was enjoying this.
“I have no control over the image, father. No more than I could control your soul itself—and trust me when I say that if I could do that, I wouldn’t be bothering with all this. Even after becoming xiantian, I could not fabricate these images—not to so many people. What you are seeing is a part of Yoshika’s soul realm, and I assure you, it’s all quite real.”
“Your lies are pointless. Whether you are truly Yue or just an image created by Yoshika, you cannot harm us here, nor can you hold us forever. I do not know what you hope to achieve by convincing me of this ridiculous ruse.”
“Oh, I’m not planning to harm you—at least not yet. That will come after, and I am very much looking forward to it. Nor am I trying to convince you of anything. Tell me, Yan De—what is the Jade Pillar?”
He scoffed incredulously at her question, but then his copy began to answer for him.
“It is that which holds the empire together. That which is most important. It cannot be torn down without bringing ruin to all.”
“But more specifically? What, exactly, is the Jade Pillar?”
Yan De knit his brows together, shouting urgently.
“Do not listen to her! She is trying to—!”
Yue held up a hand and his voice disappeared.
“Come now, Father, I do have some control here. Now then, let’s hear your answer.”
She and everyone else turned their attention to the reflection of Yan De’s soul. The unhidden truth that lay behind his many masks.
“Nothing. It has no true form. It is a fiction, perhaps as old as the empire itself. A trick we play upon ourselves. The Jade Pillar has as many forms as there are citizens of the empire. The Jade Pillar is simply whatever one holds dearest—anything which motivates them.”
And there it was. Yoshika’s theory, confirmed. In a nation so ruled by secrets and suspicion, where trust was a currency so dear that few were willing to trade even the smallest scraps of it, how would you get people to ever cooperate? In secret, of course. A grand conspiracy in which every conspirator had a different goal—where each of them thought that they alone knew the truth, while the others were their unwitting pawns.
Yue wondered how many knew, or had suspected. Far more than had ever voiced it, surely. After all, it was a critical support for the empire. A sneaky, manipulative, ingenious way to keep a group of self-interested backstabbing rulers together under some semblance of unity.
Who had come up with it? An ancient cultivator like Qin Zhao, perhaps, or his uncle the prime minister and first prince of Qin. Maybe it was older still, and came from the God-Emperor himself.
Yue sighed. She’d probably never know the answer to that.
“Thank you, Father, for being so arrogant. This might have been a bit more difficult if that which you held dearest hadn’t been yourself. One last question, then you’ll all be free to go—except Yan De, of course. Father, why do you want to kill Yoshika so badly that you’re willing to sacrifice thousands of cultivators and put the entire empire at risk?”
“She has given me grave insults time and again, and repeatedly refused to submit. For that, there is no cost too great to pay.”
“Yet, it’s the other sects who are paying that cost, isn’t it?”
Yan De’s reflection smirked proudly, sneering down at everyone before him.
“Naturally. I’m not so stupid that I would waste my own resources before letting my lessers break themselves on the problem first.”
The crowd did not erupt into chaos or gasp at the revelation. On some level, everyone present already knew it just from looking at Yan De’s reflection. Instead, they just stared in silence, as Yan De himself glared balefully at his daughter, still unable to speak for himself.
Yue snapped her fingers, and everyone but Yan De vanished. His doppelganger faded away, along with the bubble of silence, and he crossed his arms to sneer at Yue.
“You must think yourself quite clever.”
She shrugged.
“Our family has ever suffered from an elevated sense of self-worth. Perhaps it’s hereditary.”
“It will make little difference, you know. You may have shamed me, but loyalties do not sway so easily. Your empress remains trapped, and regardless of my reasons, the Jade Pillar still stands. Each of them recognizes that Yoshika must die.”
“Maybe so, but perhaps they now realize Yoshika is not the only existential threat to the empire. And perhaps they might consider that when one has two powerful enemies, it’s wisest to pit them against each other then swoop in to eliminate the survivor.”
Yan De hesitated, but shook his head defiantly.
“No. The seal is too powerful, and none but I can remove it. You made a commendable effort, but the outcome remains the same.”
Yue knit her brows together in false concern.
“Oh dear! You’re right—what a miscalculation on my part! Yoshika remains isolated and untouchable within your seal. I suppose, then, they’ll have to make do with the enemy that’s still trapped within an illusion and completely helpless, won’t they?”
The world dropped away around them, and Yue stood with her father in the skies above Kucheon, where Yoshika remained trapped in a seal, her eyes closed and her lips moving in a silent song. Yan De saw the image of his real body, still curled up in a ball of protective Dragonfire that had done nothing to protect him from Yoshika’s voice.
Yan Ren stood protectively at his master’s side, but every other elder had turned to regard Yan De’s helpless form with dangerous expressions. Even Bai Renshu couldn’t decide which side to take as his benefactor rapidly lost stock among his peers.
“This is a trick. They would never stoop so low as to turn against another Grandmaster. To betray one of the great sects is tantamount to treason against the God-Emperor himself.”
Yue shrugged.
“You don’t have to believe me. I’m perfectly happy to sit here and watch them tear you apart. It will be quite cathartic, I think. I only wish Zhihao was here to see it.”
“Keep his name out of your mouth, you traitorous harlot.”
“Oh please! He knew you less than I did, and hated you even more. Face it, Yan De—you are a poor leader and an even worse father, and soon your legacy will end the way it was always destined to—in flames. There might be something poetic in that.”
He shook his head in denial, but Yue could see the fear in his eyes.
“You cannot trick me!”
Yue laughed so hard it made her sides hurt.
“Yan De. Father. I don’t need to trick anybody! You have inspired nothing but hatred in every person with the misfortune of meeting you for thousands of years. You can take your chances on their mercy, or you can take your chances on Yoshika’s.”
She glanced up at the jade pillar, still visible in her mind’s eye, where a dazzling figure stood. Her savior, her empress, her best friend.
“I know which way I’d go if I were you.”