Chapter 25
The Formula
Jon watched as an awkward silence descended upon the elders' table in the wake of Jianyu's casual declaration. Zhen Wu's broad smile had frozen into a rictus, the merry crinkles around his eyes tightening as he processed the cultivator's words.
The other village patriarchs shifted uncomfortably, shooting each other furtive glances. Even the raucous sounds of the celebrating villagers seemed to dim as if the very air itself held its breath in premonition.
What an underhanded little smile that smug bastard has, Jon couldn't help thinking, eyes tracing the curve of Jianyu's perfectly shaped lips. Seriously, how can one guy be blessed with such an annoyingly pretty face? Jon regrettably had the bad habit of noting the most trivial details during the most serious situations.
At last, Zhen Wu found his voice, the gruff words slicing through the tense quiet with crystal clarity despite the surrounding din.
"Jianyu...you do realize the severity of what you've just implied, don't you?" His tone was low, grave, the undercurrent of barely-restrained anger unmistakable.
Jianyu's cerulean eyes glittered with unconcerned amusement, his perfect features arranged into an expression of such insouciant ease it was almost insulting.
"Why yes, Senior Brother," he replied smoothly, not a single muscle twitching out of place. "I absolutely do."
For a moment, Jon could have sworn he saw flashes of barely-restrained violence flicker across the towering chief's face. When Zhen Wu spoke again, his words emerged through gritted teeth, bitten off in harsh staccato bursts of rebuke.
"Well then...I trust you have proof to substantiate such an outrageous claim? A name? A description of this alleged 'thief' whose actions you now sully the honor of my village with?"
At these words, Jon felt a multitude of furtive eyes flick almost guiltily in his direction for the barest fraction of a second before sliding hastily away.
What the fuck are you doddering old coots gawking at me for? He wanted to snap at them. I'm just some poor schmuck stuck here, not the actual criminal! That greasy little bastard Minghan is the thief, not me!
Silence enveloped their small gathering as Jianyu reached languidly inside the folds of his pristine white hanfu*. When his hand emerged, he was holding a neatly folded piece of paper, which he proffered towards Zhen Wu with that same maddeningly unruffled half-smile playing about his lips.
"You'll find all the proof you require right here, Senior Brother."
The Elders' faces ran the full gamut of reactions - trepidation, anger, confusion. Zhen Wu snatched the proffered note with more force than strictly necessary, his brow furrowing as he scanned its contents with clear disbelief and consternation.
Jon watched the scene unfold with a feeling of steadily mounting anxiety. Whatever was contained in that letter, it sure as shit couldn't be good if the reactions were anything to go by.
Time seemed to slow to a viscous crawl as Zhen Wu raised his eyes from the note to pin Jianyu with a look of such heavy significance, Jon felt his gut clench involuntarily in dread.
Just what unholy fucking chaos have I managed to wander straight into the middle of?
The air was thick with tension as Zhen Wu's gaze bored into Jianyu, the space between them practically crackling with unspoken weight.
"Is this accurate?" The burly chief's voice emerged as a guttural growl, barely audible over the festive music still playing on obliviously.
Jianyu held the older man's stare levelly, giving a solemn nod of confirmation. "Every word, Senior Brother."
A ragged sigh tore from Zhen Wu's barreled chest as he scrubbed a calloused hand over his face. "I see..."
When his palm fell away, his expression was set in grim lines of finality. "Then we must act, and swiftly at that. I believe I know of whom you speak." He turned to address the other elders. "Let us depart without further delay to retrieve this...individual quietly."
At this, one of the village patriarchs - a wizened oldster sporting a bald pate and bristly white moustache - cleared his throat loudly before rising to his feet with visible trepidation.
"Master Zhen Wu..." The quaver in his reedy voice betrayed his evident nerves. "Do you think it would be wise to take such precipitous action based solely on the contents of this letter?"
He swiveled towards Jianyu then, dipping into a respectful bow as he hastily amended, "Please, O Rising Dragon, do not mistake my words as doubting yours. I merely wish to-"
Jianyu waved off the sputtering elder's apology with an easy smile and casual flick of his wrist. "Please, there is no need for such formalities, Elder. It is only natural to approach such matters with appropriate skepticism."
Zhen Wu gave a curt nod of agreement. "The letter bears the seal of the 'Silver Moths' " he stated flatly, as if that explained everything.
A ripple of gasps and muttered oaths spread through the gathered elders like a physical wave, their expressions transforming into masks of shock and dismay. Jon felt his own eyebrows shooting upwards almost involuntarily as he too affected an exaggerated look of startled consternation, not wanting to draw undue notice by remaining impassive.
What the actual fuck are the 'Silver Moths'? He groused internally. Why is the mere mention of them enough to turn these grown men into scared little boys?
One of the younger elders - barely out of his prime by the look of him - found his voice first, face gone chalky pale as he leaned over the table with visible dread.
“May I see the letter, Chief?” he asked, his tone respectful yet insistent.
With a slight hesitation, Zhen Wu handed over the document. The others crowded around the younger elder, peering over his shoulder as he unfolded the paper. Their faces contorted with every word they read, expressions morphing from shock to fear to outrage.
Oh, for God's sake, I’m reading the damn thing, Jon had enough. Questions be damned, he needed answers if he had any hope of navigating whatever maelstrom he'd managed to stumble into here.
As he wedged himself among them, his gaze settled on the strange seal at the letter's bottom - an intricate design featuring an ethereal silver moth taking flight, the illustrations so meticulously crafted they seemed to almost shimmer and flutter with life.
Jon caught glimpses of the script. Words jumped out at him—'Xue Feng', 'theft', 'forbidden', 'Celestial Ascendance Pill'. An elder murmured under his breath, “Who would dare to—”
The full weight of the situation hit Jon like a thunderclap. Celestial Ascendance Pill? That sounds...important.
With a supreme effort of will, Jon managed to tear his transfixed stare away from the hypnotic emblem, looking up to meet Zhen Wu's solemn glare and Jianyu's bemused, knowing smirk with a sheepish feeling of lightheadedness.
"Well?" The young cultivator prompted with silky, almost taunting smugness. "What do you make of it, Honored Guest?"
Jon swallowed hard, mouth suddenly bone dry as he shakily handed the letter back to Jianyu.
"I, uh...I have a really bad feeling about this..." he said sincerely.
Zhen Wu then rose abruptly from his seat, glowering down at the insufferably relaxed Jianyu with ill-concealed fury.
"Let's go, Junior Brother," he growled through gritted teeth. "I do not see the thief present here any longer, but I know well enough where he lairs."
There was a dangerous glint in the chief's eye, the promise of imminent violence simmering just beneath the surface like lava beneath a deceptively calm crust. Jon felt himself tense involuntarily, every instinct screaming at him to put as much distance between himself and that roiling maelstrom of rage as humanly possible.
To his surprise, however, Jianyu made no move to rise and follow his friend's unspoken command. Instead, the pretty-boy cultivator merely reclined further back in his chair with studied nonchalance, aiming a disarmingly casual look up at the bristling Zhen Wu.
"Please, relax for the moment, Senior Brother," he said in that same infuriatingly even tone, as if chiding a misbehaving child rather than addressing a veritable force of nature in human form.
"I caught sight of our wayward friend during my descent into the village," he continued blithely. "He'll not be going anywhere this night, not with Chaotzu already enroute to join my humble efforts." A faint smile played about the edges of Jianyu's lips. "I came here primarily to enjoy some long-overdue wine and conversation with my esteemed senior brother. There's no need to rush off so hastily."
The sheer audacity of the statement - delivered with such airy indifference in the face of the profoundly shock expressions surrounding him - very nearly made Jon laugh out loud.
This cocky little bastard really doesn't give a single, solitary fuck, does he? It was almost admirable in its unrepentant disregard for authority and consequence. Like one of those infuriatingly overpowered anime protagonists who coasted through every situation on a tidal wave of insufferable self-assurance and latent power.
Jianyu gave Zhen Wu a pointed look then, arching one elegant brow in a wordless challenge that seemed to demand the other man's compliance.
For a handful of heartbeats, the two cultivators locked eyes in a silent battle of wills, the surrounding elders watching on with bated breath. At last, the staredown ended as swiftly as it had begun.
For a long moment, Zhen Wu could only gape at his junior in stunned silence, visibly struggling to process the cultivator's words. When he finally regained the power of speech, there was an incredulous, almost wounded edge to his voice.
"Jianyu...the Celestial Ascendance Pill formula is undoubtedly one of the Southern Edge Sect's most priceless, symbolic treasures. If word of its theft spreads..." He shook his head slowly, seeming to age decades in mere seconds as the weight of the situation's full gravity pressed down upon his shoulders.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
"Many innocents will surely perish in the chaos and violence that would follow if it falls into the wrong hands," the chief finished heavily. "How can you remain so calm in the face of such dire circumstances?"
But Jianyu merely shrugged one shoulder in a lazy, insouciant roll, his expression one of unruffled serenity.
"You have my word, Brother - our thief will travel no further this night. Xue Feng is already firmly within my grasp." A sly, almost playful grin surfaced then, crinkling the corners of those annoyingly perfect eyes. "Now...who's for another glass of wine? The evening is still young, after all."
Zhen Wu's vast shoulders slumped in seeming defeat as he sank back down into his chair with an aggrieved sigh. "When will you ever change, you incorrigible bastard?"
Jon could practically hear Zhen Wu's cranky lament in his mind's eye even before the words passed the Chief's lips in a bemused, affectionate grumble.
Jianyu's bright smile only brightened further in response, a teasing glint dancing in those fathomless blue eyes.
"Never, Senior Brother," he quipped easily. "You ought to know that by now."
*****
Further away in Zhilan, at the little house provided to Minghan by the chief...
Xue Feng's hands trembled violently as he scrawled the desperate missive, ink splattering across the parchment in frantic blots and streaks. Sweat beaded upon his brow, trickling in thin rivulets down the sides of his chalk-pale face.
"Damnation!" he snarled, the guttural oath ripping from between clenched teeth. "Of all the rotten, accursed luck..."
His brush flew in a flurry of strokes, the sharp rasp of bristles on paper loud in the confining stillness of the cramped, dingy room. Every line oozed with panicked urgency, fueled by a mind whirling with half-formed plots and frantic calculations.
"How did they track me here so swiftly?" The man's voice emerged as a strangled rasp of disbelief. "That smug, arrogant whelp - Xi Jianyu! They really sent the Rising Dragon!"
The brush clattered to the floor as Xue Feng leaped up, his gaze darting to a tattered rucksack in the corner.
"I must flee this place, and without delay," he growled, lunging towards the bag and scooping it up in one brusque motion. "If that overconfident little pissant has managed to track me here..."
His voice trailed off, throat working convulsively as he imagined the dire consequences should Jianyu apprehend him now. Images of torture, disfigurement, even execution at the hands of the Southern Edge Sect's elite flashed through his mind.
No. He would not allow it to end like this.
There was still a chance, however narrow, to salvage his plans and escape this dire scenario with life and freedom intact.
Xue Feng hurled sundry supplies and belongings haphazardly into the rucksack, every ragged inhalation wheezing like a shuddering death rattle in his constricted chest. Finally, with the bag full, he turned towards a small wicker cage tucked into the room's dankest corner.
The mournful cooing of the plump bird within greeted his frantic approach, its beady eyes glinting with implacable serenity in the dimness. Xue Feng snatched up the parchment, hastily folding it into a tight cylinder before affixing it to the pigeon's scaly leg with a length of twine.
"Fly true, feathered friend," he hissed through gritted teeth, his words emerging as little more than a breathless rasp of desperation. "The fate of everyone depends on your wings this night..."
With that ominous benediction, Xue Feng flung open the cage's rickety door and watched with bated breath as the pigeon took off.
Only when the pigeon had vanished from sight did Xue Feng allow the rucksack to slither from his shoulder, the bag thumping heavily against the creaking floorboards. He cast one last haunted look around the derelict room that had been his sanctuary these past few days before squaring his shoulders.
"No more delays," the cultivator murmured, more to himself than anything. "Every passing moment brings them inexorably nearer..."
Drawing in a deep, steadying breath, Xue Feng gathered his internal energies and burst forth in a blinding acceleration of momentum and qinggong*. His form blurring into the night as he vanished from the ramshackle building.
His path curved unerringly towards the soaring peaks and plunging valleys of the nearby mountain range, every fiber of his being solely focused on putting as much distance between himself and pursuit as inhumanly possible. One thought alone burned like a searing brand in the forefront of his mind, singeing away all other distractions and doubts as he fled.
Escape. No matter the cost, he simply had to escape...
But then, Xue Feng's world ground to a halt the instant he saw the cluster of village children ahead, their cherubic faces aglow with the mischievous delight of plundered treats clutched in grubby fists. In that suspended moment, his breath caught like shards of jagged glass in his lungs.
One wild-haired ginger head locked gazes with the cultivator, pudgy mouth working soundlessly for the span of a heartbeat. Then, like the peal of a death knell, a shrill cry rent the still night air.
"Uncle Minghan!"
They had seen him. There could be no doubt about that now.
The words hung there, a noose of damning recognition tightening with each passing second. Xue Feng could practically feel its coils cinching about his throat, choking the life from him as certainly as any executioner's skilled hands.
They knew his face. They had witnessed his flight firsthand. More importantly, they had marked the exact direction of his escape with those heedless young eyes.
A low, guttural sound welled up from the cultivator's chest - equal parts despair and impotent rage. If those insufferable brats breathed so much as a whisper of this encounter to their parents or the town elders, his pursuers would undoubtedly extract the information from them through any means necessary. Torture, coercion, threats - no depravity would be off the table to the elite cultivators of the Southern Edge once they caught his scent.
And with the children as witnesses to his movements, it would only be a matter of time before Xue Feng's trail went incandescently hot once more.
That left only one truly logical recourse then, despite its abhorrent implications. A messy, tragic solution, but an ultimately prudent one given the extreme stakes involved.
The life of a few meddlesome peasant children was a paltry price to pay to preserve his own hide, after all. They were ignorant, illiterate groundlings - acceptable collateral losses in the grand scheme of things, really.
Yes, the more Xue Feng's mind parsed the dilemma through his ruthlessly pragmatic mindset, the clearer the grim answer became. A few deft motions, a flicker of steel in the moonlight, and those annoying loose ends would be permanently, cleanly severed.
Already his fingers traced the hidden contours of the slender blade tucked into his robes, caressing its hilt with the intimacy of a lover's touch. It would be so quick, so merciful in its own way. One shuffling step forward, and-
The smallest girl, all huge eyes and cherubic innocence, noticed his predatory advance first. Her expression blossomed into dawning fear, soft features contorting in a soundless rictus of terror. As if jolted by her reaction, the other children whipped around, following her terrified gaze to the looming threat now mere paces away.
For a frozen heartbeat, Xue Feng's conscience warred savagely, every shred of hard-won humanity battling against cold-blooded pragmatism. He knew these brats, could put names and families to each familiar face now gawking at him in blank incomprehension. They were mischievous, plump little village nuisances, not faceless sacrifices for the greater machinations of his ambition.
Could he really go through with this? For all his boasts and sneers about rising above mortal decadence and weakness, was the vaunted cultivator truly capable of butchering innocents in cold blood like some mindless killer?
That single, damning moment of internal conflict saved the children's lives.
There had to be another way to defuse this disastrous situation and preserve his own hide without resorting to outright infanticide. Xue Feng was many things - degenerate, liar, thief - but even he possessed limits to his depravity.
His hand fell away from the dagger's hilt as if it had become searing hot to the touch. His chest heaved with unvoiced denial and self-loathing as he wrestled his own darker impulses back under tenuous control.
These weren't just nameless obstacles to be crushed underfoot, he told himself with grim resignation. Merely meddlesome children too foolish to recognize the larger implications of their actions yet.
The cultivator released a shuddering breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, then licked dry lips as his fumbling hands sought out a different solution entirely.
He grabbed a pouch of copper pennies from his robe, the jingle catching the children's attention - their initial fear melting into confusion now tinged with dawning avarice.
Of course - bribery, the universal lubricant to loosen even the most recalcitrant tongue, adult or adolescent. Xue Feng felt the beginning trickles of relief, his roiling thoughts clearing as he centered himself back in familiar territory.
Let the fools from the Southern Edge Sect pursue him relentlessly, commit any level of atrocity or torture to safeguard their own warped sense of justice and duty. He was Xue Feng, descendant of the resurrected White Soul Sect. His fealty was to his own ambitions first and foremost - any means to that immortal end was acceptable, so long as he avoided the most unforgivable sins against his personal moral boundaries.
The children were safe, the momentary crisis averted. Now it was simply a matter of properly incentivizing these foolish moppets to hold their tongues, like any other investment.
A small, sad smile ghosted across the cultivator's lips as he beheld the rapt, shining faces before him. So very easy to manipulate at that age, so eager to please in return for even the most paltry bribe or treat. Part of him perversely envied that simplicity and lack of moral taint.
But such poetic musings could wait until later, Xue Feng reminded himself. First, he needed to firmly imprint the gravity of their present situation upon these fractious young minds.
He forced his expression to relax into what he hoped passed for an affable, harmless smile.
"Well now, what have we here?" The words emerged with far more composure than Xue Feng felt, his tone syrupy and conspiratorial rather than accusatory. "Out enjoying the festival without your parents' knowledge, I'd wager?"
The children all traded looks of mingled apprehension and impish glee at being so brazenly discovered. Finally, the gap-toothed grin of Bao - Qingshan's mischievous youngest - split his grimy face in a winsome display.
"Uncle Minghan!" The lad piped up, all earlier hesitation forgotten in the face of this familiar adult's approachable demeanor. "We just wanted a few snacks away from our folks is all. No harm done!"
The others echoed their agreement in a rising babble of childish rationalizations and tepid reassurances overlapping. Xue Feng allowed the clamor to wash over him for a moment, holding up his hands in a placating gesture until the tumult ebbed.
"Now, now - there's no need for such frantic explanations, young ones," he responded, a rueful chuckle underpinning his words. "I was merely caught by surprise to find you all wandering so far from the village at this late hour. You never know what sort of unsavory sorts could be lurking about, after all..."
He let that ominous insinuation linger for maximum impact, watching understanding slowly blossom in their widening eyes. Then, when their expressions had shifted into appropriately concerned unease, Xue Feng pressed on in that same kindly tone.
"But I'm sure a bunch of clever, resourceful lads and lasses such as yourselves had no intention of stumbling into serious danger or consequence tonight, hmm?"
He favored them with a beatific smile, extracting a heavy jingling pouch from the depths of his robes with deliberate casualness. The sight of its bulging, coin-stuffed heft dropping heavily into his palm elicited a chorus of admiring gasps from the assembled children.
"Which is why I feel honor-bound to hold my tongue on the matter..." Xue Feng began sifting copper pennies in a glittering stream from one hand to the other, letting the children's rapt stares follow the flickering cascade's every clink and shimmer. "So long as our chance encounter remains an amusing little secret just between us friends, that is."
The cultivator allowed the heavy pouch to dangle invitingly from his fingertips then, the implicit bargain hanging unspoken but crystal clear in the air between them. For several long heartbeats, a thick tension reigned, the children's expressions shifting through a series of silent communications and deliberations.
At last, it was young Soso - the wide-eyed little sparrow who always seemed to teeter on the edge of tears at the slightest provocation - who found her small, quavering voice.
"Does...does this mean you're in some kind of trouble too, Uncle Minghan?" The words emerged hushed, awash in apprehensive innocence.
The other children swiveled to gape at the girl, outraged and betrayed by her reckless questioning. But Xue Feng merely laughed, loud and rich, allowing genuine mirth to crease his features for the first time that night.
"Why, you could say that, little Soso," he replied warmly, as if sharing a delectable joke with an old friend. "We few are simply fellow mischief-makers hedging our bets this evening, hmm? Kindred roguish spirits compelled to keep one another's confidence, as it were."
He gave the heavy pouch an enticing shake, coins chinking metallically in a jaunty invitation. "So...do we have an understanding then, my young compatriots?"
For a handful of seconds, the children remained frozen, eyes flicking from the cultivator's open, earnest expression to the swaying prize and back again. Then, as one, their hesitation melted away in a torrent of fervent nods and eager murmurs of assent.
"You got it, Uncle Minghan!"
"We'll never snitch, promise!"
"Our lips are sealed!"
Smiling deeply from the bottom of his heart, Xue Feng tossed the weighty satchel into their midst, watching with no small satisfaction as they swarmed upon the jingling prize in a frenzy of grabbing hands. Their squeals of excitement were quickly muffled by cupped palms as they scattered, already engaged in hushed squabbles over splitting the fortune.
He watched their forms disappear, a brief wave of melancholy washing over him. How simple those days were when a few pennies could buy anything...
The brief wistful musing dissipated as swiftly as it had come. Xue Feng shook his head in a brisk, clearing motion before settling his robes more snugly about his shoulders. There would be time enough for nostalgia and regrets later, he told himself, already pivoting towards the distant peaks.