Within her Immortal’s Cave, Chu Yuyan meditated on the floor. She recalled the Bedevilment Pill in her mind, feeling out the memory. Her hair was rising and falling along with the highs and lows of her thoughts. The woman opened her eyes and sighed.
“Grandmaster Pill Cauldron,” she muttered.
She bumped her head against the wall. Chu Yuyan looked up, as if staring past the mountain rocks, and gazed out into the night. Her lips curled downward.
Many called Chu Yuyan a genius, but her chest tightened when she compared herself to others. The world was big, and she was small.
She stood and gestured absently to her side. The heavy stone door seemed to bow, moving upon command like pawns to their queen. Fresh air wafted into the stuffy cave. The woman inhaled. Staying cooped up for months had benefits, but so did the outside. Experience came in many manners.
Chu Yuyan gave her dwelling one final look before she sprinted into the dark. She leapt off the mountainside, her silk robe flapping. As the wind carried her off, the cave closed behind her and echoed, lonely and hollow.
The life of cultivation almost enforced such solitude.
It was enviable, and it was not.
As the Furnace Lord drifted farther from her mountain, the currents shook and sent the cultivator spiraling sharply toward the earth. With a steady heart, Chu Yuyan flipped through the air, guiding her body to the nearby lake. Her foot lightly touched the water. Pushing off the surface, she corrected her course and disturbed neither leaf nor branch. Few things stirred her heart. It was a blessing and a curse.
But thoughts of the Bedevilment Pill returned, and Chu Yuyan felt her cheeks flush. The cold wind failed to cool her reddening face, and only fanned it further. She temporarily lost balance, her chest thumping. When the woman borrowed it from Grandmaster Pill Demon, the last thing she expected was pure insanity carved into that minuscule pellet. She begged her master to examine it, and she regretted the choice now.
Pride allowed her to puff out her chest. In front of fellow disciples, she was an untouchable and unconquerable goddess. To herself, she was nothing. Chu Yuyan realized her weakness in front of true masters, and that hurt more than anything.
The cultivator clenched her jaw. Chu Yuyan felt the Devil’s will rattling inside its container, unwilling to bend to anyone. If she was small, what was a tiny pill? It burned with an insatiable frenzy and undying soul, sharp like the sword, and pointed its blade at the Heavens themselves. Even her pride fell short compared to it. She was only human. While it burned with passion, she was cold and stoic. It was something she was and could not be, which sent shivers down her spine.
Passion was missing from her life. However, those that burned twice as bright lasted half as long. At least, Chu Yuyan often consoled herself like so. Still, the idea excited her. Her heart rate increased for a moment, then normalized. Steady. Unmoving.
Chu Yuyan caught sight of a nearby Immortal’s Cave. Irritation flashed across her eyes as she landed on the path toward the dwelling. Thick moss covered the stone door concealing the schemes of the man inside.
Fang Mu’s talent was incredible. At a certain point, even Chu Yuyan admitted he surpassed her. Maybe. Yet looking at him caused her cheeks to tighten irritably. Unwarranted anger painted her vision red, an odd and unwanted feeling. But his Dao of Alchemy was undeniable, and compared to others in the sect, she had no one else to speak with at comparable levels.
Except Fang Mu never spoke to her.
Chu Yuyan stomped up the path, her nails digging into her palms. Her robes were ruffled and unseemly. The woman ignored it. She stopped caring about appearances long since, and those who did disgusted her.
“Fang Mu!” she called out.
Silence.
“I know you’re in there.” She banged on the door. “Open up!”
Time ticked, and Chu Yuyan pounded the stone harder. The skin on her hand peeled. She bit her lower lip and backed away, cradling her arm against her chest. The woman rubbed her sore wrist, covering the scrapes, then shook her head. She expected as much. As she turned to leave, Chu Yuyan heard someone.
“What do you want?” Fang Mu said. His voice was muffled, with a hint of annoyance laced in.
The Furnace Lord trudged back to the entrance.
“Alchemy,” she said through gritted teeth. “I want to talk about alchemy with a fellow daoist, as well as Grandmaster Pill Cauldron.”
Embarrassment crept over her features. Asking was demeaning enough.
There was long silence before Fang Mu spoke again.
“No, thanks,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m fine, really. And busy.”
His words slowly sank in. Chu Yuyan wanted to scream. She felt the shout perched under her throat, ready to be unleashed for the whole sect to hear and ridicule. But she swallowed her pride.
“Fine,” the woman growled. “The likes of you could never understand Grandmaster Pill Cauldron anyhow.”
Chu Yuyan heard him cough before she flew away. The breath of fresh air she wanted wasn’t as relaxing as she had hoped. Like usual, Fang Mu was insufferable. She narrowed her eyes. She’d show him at the Violet Furnace Lord promotion.
The cultivator soared just under the clouds. Drops of condensation peppered her face, her hair slicked with a sheen of water. She welcomed the cold shower, dousing her rage. No one tested her temper more than Fang Mu.
Then Chu Yuyan sensed someone at her flank, closing in fast. The woman’s mood was already bad. If she were lucky, venting her annoyance became possible.
The mystery man caught up.
“Elder Sister Chu,” he said.
“Don’t speak to me so casually,” she said. Her robes fluttered as Chu Yuyan sped up.
“Please wait!”
She stopped in mid-air. Chu Yuyan hovered impatiently while the man panted. He wiped his forehead, exhausted, then clasped his hands together and lowered his head.
“Thank you,” he said, and smiled a charming smile. There was a hint of fangs, which came and went in a blink.
“What do you want?” she asked. “I’m busy.”
He glanced left and right at the empty valley before them; there wasn’t a soul in sight. The man raised a brow. Despite his loose outfit, Chu Yuyan noticed the cords of muscle underneath, thin and lean. It was the kind of physique dangerous men had.
“I’m busy,” Chu Yuyan repeated.
His gaze wavered, and glazed over her body. Her robes clung to her like a second skin. Chu Yuyan scoffed. Noticing her change in attitude, the man gestured apologetically.
“Please don’t frown like that,” he said. “It’ll mar your face.”
How many peerless beauties were there in the world? Logically, only one was allowed the title, and she wasn’t nearly vain enough to believe it to be her. Thanks to Fang Mu, the woman questioned her talent. Not to say she wasn’t proud as Chu Yuyan was at least the best of the four famous women often labeled with her.
Such was arrogance.
“Get on with it,” she said, brushing her hair to the side.
“Elder Sister, I wouldn’t bother you with trifles.”
“What are you pestering me for, then?”
“The identify of Grandmaster Pill Cauldron,” he said with a smile. He itched his collarbone bashfully.
Chu Yuyan scanned the man head to toe. Seating herself in the air, she crossed her long legs and touched her heels together.
“Go on,” she said.
His grin widened, like a Cheshire cat. “With my connections, I, Kau Shan, have discovered rumors concerning this Grandmaster. Your interest in him is well-known, and for your best interest, I rushed to inform you.”
“Kau Shan,” she said after a while.
“Yes, Elder Sister?”
“Who are you again?” Chu Yuyan stroked her chin. “I’ve never heard of you in my life.”
The man’s grin faltered slightly. The dark bags under his eyes sank, but he recovered quickly.
“A mere disciple,” he said, chuckling. “Nothing compared to you.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere.”
“I’m not sure what else to say. Please respect my decision to not reveal my sources. They prefer their anonymity until meeting, and promises to others aren’t made lightly as I’m sure you’d agree.”
“Very well,” Chu Yuyan said.
“I take it you’re interested?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sensing a ‘but’ from you.”
“But,” she said, “I still don’t trust you.”
And with a flick of her wrist, Chu Yuyan retrieved an unmarked pill and sent it toward the man’s mouth. Kau Shan gulped it down before he knew what happened. He grasped at his throat as his pupils constricted.
“What did you do?” he asked, shocked.
“We’re all fellow alchemists, are we not?” Chu Yuyan gave him her own smile, which bloomed brightly even in the night. “You have nothing to fear if there’s nothing to hide.”
Kau Shan’s shoulders drooped. He bowed, then started toward the forest. The Furnace Lord followed. She glanced at Fang Mu’s cave one last time, clicking her tongue. Chu Yuyan then overtook the disciple. They glided through the air side-by-side in silence. Unnerved, Kau Shan broke the status quo first.
“Elder Sis—”
“What?” she said, cutting him off.
“I will not be treated this way,” he said, nostrils flaring. “I’m not your enemy.”
She made a face.
“You shoved an unknown pill down my throat,” he continued. “What more do you want?”
As Chu Yuyan probed him over, she mentally scolded herself as the cold inside her continued to control her actions. But so did the arrogance that came with pride. In the end, the Furnace Lord said nothing until the forest they landed in. Her breath fogged.
“Do you know anything about Grandmaster Pill Cauldron yourself?” she asked.
Since she was quiet and hostile for most of their journey, Kau Shan was caught off guard.
“Personally? No.”
“I see,” she said.
Chu Yuyan walked behind him. Her steps were silent, whether grass, twig, root or rock crossed her path. She was like a dagger, cold and ruthless and distant, and that dagger seemed pressed against Kau Shan’s neck. Sweat beaded his neck. He didn’t dare look back.
“I’m merely a Violet Qi Division disciple. Your Dao of Alchemy among other skills is far superior to mine. But those at the top are sometimes too high to see those beneath them. They miss details otherwise obvious.”
She was Chu Yuyan, apprentice under Grandmaster Pill Demon and daughter of the Violet Fate Sect Leader. Nothing escaped her sight. They whispered arrogance behind her back, but the strong had that right, and strong she was. In the grand scheme of things, she was a mere lion among dragons. But lions were still kings of the jungle.
“Wise words,” she simply said, not caring to argue.
He thanked her for the compliment.
“And what are your thoughts on Grandmaster Pill Cauldron?” she asked coolly. Her words were a little too giddy, though. Chu Yuyan couldn’t help it. She wanted to talk about him, but no one would or could.
“Personally, I believe it’s Ye Feimu. His skill is legendary, not to say yours isn’t.”
“I’m aware of Ye Feimu, and I agree no one else in the public could be Grandmaster Pill Cauldron.”
Chu Yuyan had met him before. Lonely arrogance riddled his face more than hers, and the aroma of medicine thickened around him like an aura. Ye Feimu undoubtedly immersed himself in the Dao of Alchemy and was her greatest competition in the promotions. But her image of the Grandmaster was of a tall, slender man, imposing and archaic. Something wasn’t right. Lost in thought, Fang Mu then popped into mind and destroyed her daydream.
“Not again,” she muttered, balling her hands into fists. Her eye twitched, and she felt her chest thump.
“Are you okay?”
“Of course,” Chu Yuyan said, loosening her grip.
And again, her heart normalized. Cold. Calm. Calculating. For her, alchemical enlightenment required that disposition. It was a science. Emotions weren’t required. Only the Bedevilment Pill, filled with passion, shouted the opposite. It instilled fear deep inside Chu Yuyan’s core. Regardless of talent, hard work, or even luck, the fear was like frost slowly squeezing her life away, for she could never create such a thing.
Chu Yuyan exhaled, her face stone. Hearts of ice overcame even fear.
“We’re here,” Kau Shan said.
Smoothing her robe, Chu Yuyan took in the scene before her. A small pond rested in the clearing within the thicket. The water was still and peaceful, ignorant of the chaotic world outside, and resonated with her. Clear and pure, the surface was like a mirror, reflecting the endless stars above. Every twinkle caught her eyes, more dazzling than the next, and if there was ever peerless beauty, nature took the crown from kings and queens alike.
Chu Yuyan knelt on the soil. She scooped up a handful of water and watched it leak between her fingers. She licked the small amount remaining. It was sweet and almost divine.
“So,” the woman said, standing. “What now?”
And as the words left her mouth, laughter resounded, tainting the grace of the pond. Two wandered out from the dark of the trees and brought darker tides.
“Kau Shan,” the man said. His skin was dark and weathered, and his cheeks pockmarked. “You’ve fulfilled your promise. My thanks to you.”
“Feng Lin,” his companion said, “shut your mouth. You’re embarrassing me.”
He frowned at the woman, average in shape and form. He shrugged.
“Are you going to introduce me?” Chu Yuyan said calmly.
Kau Shan wet his dry lips, looking at Chu Yuyan then back to the couple. “Feng Lin,” he said. “Ming Tai. Sorry I’m late.”
“No matter.” The man waved him off. “Time is something we have in abundance.”
“Yeah,” his partner echoed. “Time is something we have in abundance.”
Chu Yuyan passed Kau Shan and stood in front of the two, tall and refined. Her arrogance seeped out unconsciously as she gazed upon the informants. As they were both shorter than her, Chu Yuyan’s chin was so high it seemed she looked down on them.
Ming Tai glared at the Furnace Lord. But her ally placed his hand on her shoulder before she spewed venomous words.
“Thank you for coming,” Feng Lin said.
“I had plenty of time,” Chu Yuyan said.
He wore an amiable expression. “Cultivation is a long journey.”
“What do you know about Grandmaster Pill Cauldron?”
“Straight to the point,” he said. “I like that.”
“Information ain’t free,” Ming Tai said. “I don’t care who your daddy is.”
“Let me handle this.”
“Fine,” she said, sneering. Then she went to the pond and hawked globs of spit into the water.
Feng Lin let out nervous chuckles. “Sorry about that.”
Watching the woman in the corner of her eyes, a small flame ignited inside Chu Yuyan. It was a rare sensation. Familiar, but rare.
“What do you want in exchange?” Chu Yuyan asked.
While resources weren’t unlimited for her, she apprenticed under Grandmaster Pill Demon which gave her certain advantages. It wasn’t fair, but few things were.
The man nudged his head at Kau Shan. “Come here,” he said merrily. Malice oozed from his voice. He hid it well. But not well enough. Chu Yuyan noticed. Cold hearts understood cold words, and Feng Lin was very, very cold behind his mask. She absently cracked her knuckles one by one.
“Yes?” Kau Shan said as he shuffled forward.
Feng Lin tousled the man’s hair. “All we ask are pills for our cultivation level.”
“Done,” Chu Yuyan said.
“Hold on.” He raised his hand. “While I believe you, I’m no naive schoolboy. Show us the goods first.”
“You’re testing my patience,” she said.
“What I’m offering far surpasses measly pills. It’s the least you can do. Fairies such as yourself should represent fairness, yes?”
Chu Yuyan snapped her fingers. Hundreds of pellets streamed out of nowhere like pots of overflowing gold. As pills spilled out, they floated in front of the two men as if food for the starving.
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“Good enough?” she asked.
They looked at one another. Using their sleeves, they dabbed drool off their mouths.
“There’s a lot, but not enough.” Feng Lin paused. “We want spirit stones, too.”
She wasn’t one for negotiating. Rather, she never negotiated. Ever.
“Don’t push your luck,” Chu Yuyan said. She folded her arms over her chest. “Grandmaster Pill Cauldron is as elusive as he is skilled. Most rumors are false, and this is likely no different.”
Her words rang clear. While Chu Yuyan could easily pay, she assumed the info was garbage. She’d take it if she happened upon chance because conversation with that man was invaluable, but only on her terms. Her master himself was an enigma of another sort, guiding Chu Yuyan by riddles. This other Grandmaster was new and different. There was a possibility he or she could lead her through the final bottleneck, and so few prices were too big.
And there was something else. It was something she wouldn’t audibly admit. The greed Feng Lin portrayed reminded Chu Yuyan of a particular swindler. Thinking of his shameless face pissed her off. Her pulse rose.
“Hey, hey,” Kau Shan said, moving between the two. “We’re all friends, right?”
“No,” she said.
Feng Lin smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“I’m sick of her!” Ming Tai yelled.
Chu Yuyan turned in time to see a fist headed straight for her. Shockwaves resonated on contact, rustling all the leaves in the vicinity. They cried out like dying crows. The blow had enough strength to blast the Furnace Lord back.
Or at least it should have. Instead, Chu Yuyan casually stopped it with her palm. She snorted.
“I’ve dedicated my life to the Dao of Alchemy,” Chu Yuyan said, “but that doesn’t mean I cannot defend myself.”
“I’m going to knock you off your pedestal,” she said. “Die.”
“Sorry.” Chu Yuyan rolled her eyes. “I don’t court death.”
Ming Tai leapt above the sea of leaves and into the sky. She drew runes in the air, her motions vicious. In a flash, streams of fire barreled toward her target, incinerating the umbrella of vegetation. She was quick. Chu Yuyan was quicker. Closing her eyes, the cultivator’s core grew colder. Her mindset sharpened like knives ready to kill. Her eyes snapped open.
She moved so fast her shadow couldn’t keep up. Chu Yuyan kicked off the ground, leaving cracks in the earth, and burst through the flames and straight into the air. Catching sight of Ming Tai’s location, she then veered sharply and zoomed toward her.
Ming Tai’s robes whirled around her like fiery tornadoes. Seeing Chu Yuyan fanned her flames further. She flew back, then hurled quick, short bursts of fireballs at the woman while keeping distance.
The Furnace Lord gained on her by the second. Fire singed her robes. She ignored the searing pain, then caught Ming Tai by the ponytail. She flailed as panic set in. Chu Yuyan yanked the woman back, who struggled until chunks of hair tore. Ming Tai shuddered, and ceased resisting. Her scalp was raw.
“Calm down,” Chu Yuyan said, holding tight. She patted stray flames burning at her waist until they dissipated.
“It must be easy throwing pills around to solve your problems.”
“Life isn’t perfect. Work harder.”
“Then you attack those who threaten you.”
“That was you.”
Ming Tai strained against Chu Yuyan’s grip again. She seethed, squeezing Chu Yuyan’s wrist futilely.
“And if that doesn’t work,” she snarled, “why not spread your legs for the next hotshot? Your ex-fiance Wang Tengfei wasn’t good enough, so you sleep with some nobody? Is Grandmaster Pill Cauldron next?”
“I got to where I am through ability alone,” she said flatly. Explaining how nothing happened wasn’t worth the effort. Especially to the walking dead.
Ming Tai spat in her face.
Chu Yuyan slowly wiped the saliva off. Even ice had limits. And when she spoke, the whole world fell silent to listen.
“Pray you learn your lesson in the afterlife,” Chu Yuyan said. “Or continue to be prey like the rest.”
She watched the veins of Ming Tai’s neck throb. And finally her anger exploded. The flame within her peaked, igniting, and burned too hot to contain. Chu Yuyan straightened her hand, then carved though her opponent’s flesh. The Furnace Lord finally felt something warm, and it was her enemy’s blood. It wasn’t flashy; it was bleak and distant. Only fools made spectacles over trash, and Chu Yuyan was no fool.
Ming Tai’s body tumbled to its grave below, vanishing in the forest. Her name wouldn’t be said again. Chu Yuyan examined the decapitated head she held, then tossed it behind her back to accompany the rest. The sight was chilling, but life was cheap in the world. Everyone had a story. They only had to survive to tell it.
Chu Yuyan descended, settling next to the pristine pond. Her arm was sticky, coated with blood. She took a moment by the water, lost in thought, and decided to rub the gunk on her robe instead. The woman returned to the two men. It had been mere minutes since she left.
She apologized.
“No, no,” Feng Lin said, his smile plastic. “I’m the one who’s sorry. She was an acquaintance and not even a friend. I didn’t know she’d act that way.”
“Sorry, Elder Sister. I didn’t expect danger tonight.”
“Right,” she said.
“The pills are enough,” Feng Lin said.
She nodded, then admired the pond from afar. It calmed her. And as the Furnace Lord turned for a second look, gooseflesh prickled her arms. Killing intent washed over the woman, a feeling worse than drowning.
Chu Yuyan twisted sideways, avoiding the rough slice of a cruel and jagged sword. She hopped up and away, gently landing on a branch, and balanced herself with a hand against the trunk. Her nostrils flared. The blade emanated thirst for blood.
“Explain yourself,” she said.
As he sheathed his sword, Feng Lin glared at her. “Wang Tengfei sends his regards.”
That explained the other woman’s earlier outburst. Jealousy was pitiful, and an unbecoming look.
“So you’re his lackeys?” she asked.
“Loyal soldiers under his command. Wang Tengfei sentences you to death, whore.”
“That,” Chu Yuyan said, “was not my fault. Blame that bastard Meng Hao.”
“Enjoy meeting in the Underworld eventually.”
She cursed beneath her breath. Meng Hao had plagued her life with misconceptions and still haunted her to this day. He ruined her prestige and convinced others to question her character. The woman’s forehead wrinkled. If they’d killed that man first, maybe Chu Yuyan would’ve laughed away the confusion and dismissed their machinations. She was understanding. Unfortunately they targeted her first. That was their last mistake.
Kau Shan skittered away and hid among the trees, peeking from safety. The remaining two were some distance away from each other. The staring contest began.
Feng Lin’s hand hovered over the sword’s handle, his fingers brushing the grip as if it were his beloved. And in one smooth motion, he slashed out. His blade rang like bell tolls for the deceased. Then the man sheathed his weapon once more, resting his wrist on the hilt.
Wind cleaved through the air, sharper than any sword. Behind Chu Yuyan, the trees shook. Leaves were stripped off their branches as the force carried them off into the night. The pond water rolled like ocean waves before an incredible storm.
And one small cut sliced Chu Yuyan’s cheek, drawing the slightest tinge of blood. Her eyes flickered. She made no movement. She made no comment.
“Take out your weapon,” he said. “I’m not the most honorable, but even I won’t kill the unarmed.”
“I don’t need one,” she said, combing a hand through her hair.
He showed mercy and was slapped in response. His face twinged. “So be it.”
Chu Yuyan conjured up a pill which appeared between two fingers. She popped it in her mouth and swallowed, and closed her eyes. Warmth spread throughout her body.
“Perhaps this will wake you,” Feng Lin said, drawing his blade.
He took off running. While his blade cut through the air behind him, reality shuddered as if the three dimensions themselves were severed. His power was above and beyond the norm.
The two were a breath away. And then Feng Lin carved the world asunder. The sound of silence reigned as his blade ripped across Chu Yuyan’s body and soul. The deed was done.
But his quarry’s form flickered. His eyes widened as the woman’s body ghosted like an existence out of this realm. Her form slowly vanished, as if a mirage, and left no trace behind.
And before Feng Lin knew, Chu Yuyan backhanded him from his blind spot. The man spiraled out of control and crashed through hundreds of trees. As his body flailed, he splintered bark and bone alike. Even once he stopped, the man undoubtedly felt his mind continuing to spin.
Chu Yuyan slowly walked to his location. She made no attempt to muffle her steps. Instead, every stride promised death. It was cold and frigid. Feng Lin struggled to his feet.
“What was that?” he asked, hacking. The man felt his torso. There were at least broken ribs piercing his lungs.
Her cheek stung where the cut resided. She admitted inwardly that he was stronger on paper. But it was all he had.
“Strength is power,” Chu Yuyan said. “But power isn’t limited to strength.”
Feng Lin smiled, his teeth bloody. “I have no idea what that means.”
“Too bad.”
His body withered by the second. The reaper loomed over him. Feng Lin wobbled as he stood, gripping his weapon once more. Then he painfully inhaled.
“Kau Shan!” he shouted. His voice echoed.
From the dark scrambled out Kau Shan. He tiptoed around Chu Yuyan, giving her a wide berth. “Yes?” he stammered.
“Plan B.” He beckoned him closer. Feng Lin tossed the disciple a spare sword and one sinister talisman. “You know what to do.”
Chu Yuyan tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, tapping her foot.
“No need to be impatient,” Feng Lin said. “Wang Tengfei may not be the smartest, but he is thorough.”
She yawned.
“Any final words?” he asked.
“No,” she said.
“Goodbye, then.”
And Kau Shan stabbed him in the back. Surprise covering the disciple’s face. His victim craned his neck.
“What did you do?” Feng Lin gasped. He fell to his knees, voice cracking. He reached around and felt the spurting wound.
“My body moved on its own, I swear!”
He dropped the blade and vomited. A small pill somewhat dissolved glimmered in the bile. The talisman floated harmlessly in the wind, lost forever. Chu Yuyan strolled over to Kau Shan. She glanced at the gross content nearby. Then she covered her mouth and nose with her delicate hand.
“Failed again,” she muttered. “Only half-digested.”
The woman sauntered toward Feng Lin. Before he spoke, she casually snapped her leg out. Her kick broke his neck instantly. The dead were silent, and corpses were the quietest of all.
“Blame neither karma nor your misunderstanding,” she said. “You can only blame yourself.”
And so one remained.
Kau Shan froze.
She scowled at him.
Groveling at her feet, he slammed his head against the hard dirt repeatedly. Dark purple bruises formed on his head and raised bumps.
“Forgive me!” His head couldn’t go lower. “First they threatened me, then blinded me with the allure of wealth. I was wrong.”
Chu Yuyan knelt in front of him and traced her slender finger across his neck. Her nail cut into his skin. She raised his chin and had him look into her eyes through his tears.
“Kau Shan, right?” she said, batting her eyelashes.
He averted his eyes. “Yes, Elder Sister?”
A white medallion appeared in her free hand. Chu Yuyan flashed him a smile worthy of the Four Great Beauties of the Southern Domain. Dismay overcame whatever sense he had left. His face turned ugly. He was less than human now as he babbled for mercy.
He whimpered. “Please don’t.”
“By the way,” she said. “I’m not your Elder Sister.”
And then he watched his name inscribed upon the Pill Blacklist. Kau Shan felt his life slipping away, each letter of his name like the lash of a whip. He read it over and over, and reality set in harder each time.
The punishment was worse than death.
“Congratulations,” she whispered in his ear. Her breath was hot against his skin, like the furnaces alchemists worked with. “You’re lucky number fifteen.”
As Chu Yuyan dropped her hand from his chin, his eyes rolled back. The whites of his eyes showed. He fainted, and his head splashed in his own filth. The woman stood and recovered the medallion. She tended to it like mothers doting on their child and, fingering the fresh name on the list, sighed.
The Blacklist. She preferred the threat of it more than anything. Every master alchemist in the East Pill Division should have sensed Kau Shan’s addition by now, and for one hundred years he’d be refused service.
His life as an alchemist was over.
Wasting its use made Chu Yuyan retch herself. But she felt irrationally angry in the heat of the moment. The thought of Meng Hao changed her, and she hated that odd, unfamiliar feeling he planted in the pit of her stomach. How queer. Slowly, the heat in her chest faded. She grunted, examining the unconscious man one last time.
“Thank me,” she said. “You’re alive because you are a disciple of the Violet Fate Sect, although I doubt you have the face to stay.”
She glanced at the pond, bowing her head slightly, and then she set off, soaring through the sky. The dawn of a new day blazed orange in the distance. Cool night air warmed the outdoors and also her chest. Birds chirped. Back in the valley, tall mountains towered in sight. While Chu Yuyan sailed home, she passed Fang Mu’s Immortal Cave. Dust scattered as she touched the ground.
“Fang Mu!” she yelled. “Open up!”
Silence.
Chu Yuyan kicked the door and instantly regretted it. Her features greened as pain shot through her toe. “I know you’re in there,” she croaked, bouncing on her good foot.
“Typical,” she muttered, shaking her head.
And as Chu Yuyan began to leave, Fang Mu coughed.
“What now?” he asked through the stone.
Though her eyes brightened at the response, his voice somehow annoyed her.
“Alchemy,” she said, repeating their previous conversation. “I want to talk about alchemy with a fellow daoist.”
“Weren’t you discussing alchemy with whoever passed earlier?”
“Kau Shan?”
He was quiet for a moment. “Who?”
The Furnace Lord thought back to the man who foamed at his mouth, sleeping in puke. She winced.
“Nobody,” she said. “No one important, anyhow. So about Grandmaster Pill Cauldron and alchemy…” Her sentence trailed off.
“No, thanks,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m still busy.”
She gnashed her teeth, voice frosting as she swore. Every time she brought him on topic, Fang Mu clammed up.
“Please die,” she said to him.
Her night of relaxation was ruined. Her mood had worsened, even. After one final glower toward that insufferable man, Chu Yuyan stomped back to her Immortal’s Cave where she sat and meditated. Whatever rage filling her simmered down.
For cultivators, thousands of years passed in a blink. But sometimes, a single day did more than a millennium. And that day, Chu Yuyan felt different. It was something she had little experience in. Whether that was good or bad, the woman didn’t know. Yet she felt ready to tackle the mysteries of the Bedevilment Pill again. She felt in tune with the pill; she felt passion and understood it.
Maybe emotions weren’t so bad.
Maybe.