///_Bloody Map_///

The night before the auction

Wei Zhen is the Imperial Cartographer as well as a Minister in the Imperial court. Even before the Emperor decided to attend the auction, he had planned on going. Now he can just join the Emperor's entourage. He gladly hums to himself as he goes over a new addition to his collection, a cup of Longjing tea by his side.

Wei Zhen himself is a regular at these auctions, as he is always looking for ancient maps and other such treasures. He didn't earn his position through nepotism alone like many others in the Imperial court. The backing of the Wei Clan surely did help, but his utmost dedication to learning the art of mapping secured him the position. Unlike the other Minister going to the auction, Wu Qing.

Wei Zhen scoffs at the thought of that man. Wu Qing attaining the post of Head Minister severely degraded the prestige and honor attached to it. The Head Minister should be impartial to the sects, yet that man clearly doesn't care about that. He heavily favours the Golden Lotus Sect to a frankly absurd degree. Wei Zhen isn't sure how the man still has his job in the Imperial court at all. The man is so clearly a plant from the Golden Lotus Sect; Wei Zhen was blinded every time the light reflected off the gold pin the man wore everywhere.

Maybe the rumours are true? Some say Minister Wu Qing is one of the lovers of the Imperial Princess, a woman who has never married but has also clearly made her dalliances known. Still, it would explain why Wu Qing has his position.

Shaking his head, Wei Zhen puts his current map aside and picks up his cup of tea. Taking a quick sip he sighs and leans back in his chair. Nepotism is always the answer, it would seem.

"Found you~~ Wei Clan bug~~" The voice of a woman trills, the candles in his room flicker out and he's plunged into utter darkness. In shock he drops his cup, the shatter of glass on the stone floor making him wince.

Someone broke into the Imperial Palace.

"Who's there!? Show yourself!" He shouts, hoping to alert the guards stationed in the hall.

"Little bug, I'll make this quick, my beloved is waiting for me~~"

The glistening imperial furnishings, his treasured maps, the splotchy lights cast by the lamps, his seal of authority sitting on the yew table; everything he could perceive was washed away in clouds of inky darkness.

Help…

///_Royal Authority_///

A day before the auction

"What do you know of the death of Minister Wei?" She asks. To any outside observer, she would look insane. Speaking to an empty room.

Not that any would call Liulan mad if they wish to keep their heads. As the Empress of Huanglong, she has never been known to be merciful. Being merciful is something that'd have gotten her killed by one of her husband's concubines.

"The current Demon Saintess is the culprit." The shadow on Empress Liulan's wall answers, morphing into a dark figure. This shadowy being stands at an indistinct height, constantly shifting as though caught in a breeze, its form never fully stable. The body is formless, like the darkest ink spilling across the air, yet there is an eerie coherence to its shape—a person, but one that seems to melt and reshape itself with every glance. Empress Liulan feels a chill run through her at the sight of her ancestor. "She acts alone, the Demon Realm hasn't made any incursions to our land."

"What is her reason for this disrespect?" Empress Liulan asks, already deciding she wouldn't be the one to incite another war with the Demon Realm. Huanglong is still recovering from the war with Xueyu. The highest realm of Cultivators is Nascent Soul with her husband being the only one past that. She is only at the peak of Core Formation. Forget about a war, they'll be lucky to protect themselves from the other countries going forward.

"This Lord is unaware. I have a few trails to follow, ones I will be looking into personally." The shadow rasps, Liulan finds herself surprised. Knowing exactly who her Honoured Ancestor is, looking into something personally is something far below them. "This auction… Keep your spies out of it. I will bring you back one of those stones."

"Thank you, Honoured Ancestor." Empress Liulan clasps her hands and bows. A moment later, the shadow nods its head, then it disappears as if it were a wisp of smoke from a burning incense stick.

Empress Liulan relaxes back in her seat. Yet she can never be truly relaxed. The Ancestor that was just here is a being that can single-handedly destroy Huanglong, one that chooses to instead play in the shadows of most civilizations on the continent. Her deal with them is both a sense of comfort and worry. Only something she can continue with by knowing they are family.

As for why she can never truly relax… For all Empress Liulan knows, the Master of the Shadow Moon Pavillion never left.

Unknown to Liulan, her shadow smiles for just an instant.

///_Many Chins_///

Wang Fatty has met a great many people in his life as a merchant. It's not been a very long life, and his merchant company has had more downs than ups, but he knows when a person is worth making friends with.

"Fetch me a hairpin, dog."

Fatty Wang realized quickly, Xiang Rong is a man worth making friends with. The owner of the auction house, a woman named Wen Jia, had once looked down on Fatty Wang before he had hit it big in finding an abundant Spiritual Iron vein. Now he watches as she rushes to fulfil his new friend's whims like a beaten animal. Fatty isn't sure what to feel about this, but he kind of likes this feeling of superiority. He watches Wen Jia leave as he licks the grease of an expensive Spiritual Boar's meat off his fingers. Xiang Rong sitting across from him, closes his eyes and toys with the rather dull-looking ring on his finger. Then his blood-red eyes snap open and Fatty feels himself unintentionally shiver. If only his friend was less terrifying.

"The dog's taking too long." With a wave of his hand, Xiang Rong takes out an orange feather and then uses it as a hairpin.

That's a phoenix feather.

Fatty Wang uses all his will to brush past the fear and astonishment, patting his forehead with a cloth he puts down the leg bone and smiles at Xiang Rong. "Lord Xiang is a man of immense wealth indeed, this one had already known. I can only imagine what reactions people will have when they see you like that after coming to this auction for a smaller Phoenix feather." Xiang Rong scoffs, it's only the assurances from Long Jie going through Fatty's mind that Xiang Rong is a good person that stops Fatty's wince.

"It's useless. Only good for meagre decoration. Don't be blinded by paltry items when we have a larger target in front of us." Fatty nods at that. After that, Xiang Rong goes quiet, shutting his eyes again and leaning back in his seat.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Wen Jia arrives with a gold and jade inlaid hairpin during that time, she takes one look at Xiang Rong and her face blanks more than Fatty Wang had seen it before. Maybe Fatty should try this bullying-woman thing? It might work to bat Courtesan Hua away from him the next time she tries getting her hands on his rotund form. "Don't disturb him, dog. Come bring me that pin so I may put it to use." Fatty does his best Xiang Rong impression.

Wen Jia gives him a rather undecipherable look. Fatty hopes she feels humiliated like he had been a few years in the past. Unknown to Fatty Wen Jia had discovered she might like being bullied, and unlike the terrifying Xiang Rong, Fatty Wang is a known man of good character…

But that's a story for another time.

Fatty Wang's attention once again goes to Xiang Rong when the later eyes snap open. Fatty had just been using the fancy hairpin as a skewer as Wen Jia watched him from the side. "Dog, among the guests coming to the night auction, is one a young man with a higher than normal cultivation?"

Wen Jia was startled at being asked to speak for once, the whole day Xiang Rong only had her bark. Fatty had gained a great amount of amusement from it. "This one has not sent an invitation to anyone of that description outside of the Sects. The only person that matches it would be the envoy of the Crimson Guardian Sect, Jiang Feng." Fatty actually knows that man, so he decides to add some additional information.

"Jiang Feng is an acquaintance of mine. He's a rather cold and stoic young man. He only gets heated over a good weapon or fight." Xiang Rong hums at that, seemingly deep in thought. Fatty himself realises that if Jiang Feng angered Xiang Rong, Fatty will gladly throw him under the young lord's sword.

"What of guests coming with people?"

"This… It's impossible to know until the auction starts." Wen Jia answers and Fatty scoffs.

"You act like we both don't have a connection to the Rumor Platform. They will also be attending the auction with their face Xing Bo."

"This one dares not tell rumours to Young Ma-

"Silence, dog. Speak, Fatty." Xiang Rong shuts her up with a wave of his hand, Fatty hears her jaw snap shut hard enough that she'd have cut her tongue if she wasn't careful.

"There is another that fits that description according to the Rumour Platform. He made himself well known in the downtown Jade gambling scene. The young man's name is Jin Xiaotong I believe, and he's coming as a guest of the Merchant Guild leader Xu Hao." Fatty scoffs, Xu Hao has tried bullying him into said guild multiple times. Fatty would never sell his independence to a mongrel like that.

"Jade gambling you say…"

"He will be a big contender in the day auctions Jade gambling competition." Fatty Wang nods.

"I see. Keep me informed on this Jin Xiaotong."

"Of course, Lord Xiang."

"Yes-"

"Why aren't you barking, dog!?" Fatty turns to Wen Jia and points with the grease-covered hairpin, she looks at him wide-eyed for a moment. Seeing that Xiang Rong said nothing to criticise Fatty's action, he feels justified in this being the true way of treating people.

"Woof."

Yes, Fatty Wang could get used to this.

///_Sweltering Forge_///

The furnace crackles, its flames licking at the air, the rhythmic hammering of the forge hammer ringing out like a steady heartbeat. The blade being shaped is more than metal—it is a legacy, tempered with blood, sweat, and countless years of learning.

"Please, Master Zhuang, I don't want the usual difficulties in such a high-profile event." The annoying gnat makes its presence known. Zhuang, the blacksmith, ignores him.

The glowing red Spiritual Iron hums with latent power, eager to become something greater. Something he's taken upon himself to help it in. The spirit of the blade has already begun to whisper to him, a voice carried on the edge of his mind, shaping its form as much as his own hands do.

The strike of his hammer is deep, and controlled, pushing the molten metal into a long, sinuous curve. The blade guides his hand. The voice of its own gets stronger with each strike of the hammer. Zhuang had once forced the Spiritual Iron into the shapes he desired, now he knows that was nought but a childish folly.

He pauses, letting the iron cool slightly, just enough to let him see the pattern of the blade starting to form. Each line, each curve, is a reflection of his craft. His swords are alive, breathing, becoming what they were always meant to be.

"Please, Master Zhuang, too many big names will be at this auction. I can't have you doing your usual eccentricities." The gnat, Xu Hao, begs him. The leader of the Merchant Guild has been bugging him for days now, especially so after the Emperor announced he would be coming to the auction.

Zhuang ignores him again, his hammer strikes the blade, each blow purposeful, and measured. The vibration travels up his arm, he makes sure to keep the rhythm of his swings smooth. He sees Xu Hao step back from the heat of the forge. A heat that doesn't burn Zhuang anymore. It can't.

Then he reaches it, the whispers of the sword now turning into a hum with a resonance. Spiritual power sinking into the blade. He feels gratefulness from the blade, in letting it become true to Itself. The blade takes its final shape, long and sharp, gleaming with a faint ethereal glow. He turns the blade in the light, inspecting its edge, and its balance. This weapon is not for the unworthy. It will choose its master, just as all his blades do. As a creation of his fire, his blood, his Intent.

"Will that one be a late addition to the auction?" Xu Hao asks. "It's not as good as the other two, only being a Mid-Grade Earth treasure. But I'm sure it will fetch a good price in the day auction." It's time he addressed the issue in his forge, he'll have to scold whatever apprentice let the man in.

"There will be no swords sold at the Auction. I told you they are there for display."

"Well, I already told them to sell them in the night auction."

He dares!?

Zhuang feels a rage he rarely experiences these days take over, Xu Hao immediately bows low and then raises his hands in deference.

"It's a good thing! They will be bought by worthy people. Only big names are attending."

"Blood and status are nothing to my creations. You've stepped out of line, Junior." Zhuang decides he's given his deceased sworn brother enough face by helping his son's business. This is going beyond his tolerance.

"What if it's the Emperor who buys one of them?" Xu Hao asks in return.

Zhuang already knows his answer, it's the same as it always is.

"Only if he's worthy will he keep that blade."

///___///