“Just the one night?” asked Lai Dongmei.
Sen gave her an amused smile as he adjusted his robes. “Oh, come on. It’s not like you’re suffering for options. The only reason you picked me was because you knew I was safely temporary. A wandering cultivator with a reputation for moving on to the next disaster. No real strings attached. I suspect that made me just about the ideal distraction.”
She snorted and stretched. “I won’t deny that those considerations may have crossed my mind. Those weren’t the only reasons. You are very, very easy on the eyes. And you do have a certain wolfish charm about you.”
“So, I’m told. Assuming I survive the next few years, I may even find myself here again. Assuming you’re not otherwise engaged, I expect I could distract you again for a little while.”
“I’d like that. You know, there are all sorts of rumors flying around about you at the moment.”
“That’s nothing new. What are they saying about me now?”
“All kinds of deliciously absurd things. They’re saying that you were the one who destroyed the house of Choi. You supposedly stormed the palace and killed the king. You’re planning on seizing the throne for yourself. My favorite one is that you’re not really even a man, but a holy spirit sent to cleanse the wicked from our midst.”
“Dear gods, it just gets worse and worse. Nobody would think I was a holy spirit if they’d seen all the bloody clothes I’ve thrown away in the last year or so.”
“The wandering cultivator’s lament. Clothing costs.”
Sen laughed softly at that while belting on his jian. He thought about leaving it alone, but lingering guilt pushed him to say what was on his mind.
“I was wondering if you’d do me a favor,” said Sen.
“You don’t sound enthusiastic about this favor.”
“I’m not, mostly because it involves breaking my own rules about getting involved with politics. But I figure that I’ve already crossed that line here.”
“And you want to drag me into it, now?”
“No, not particularly, and not overtly, but I can’t really fix what I broke here. Any more involvement on my part would just add to the chaos. So, I’m trying to do what I can to quell the problems from the shadows.”
“Understandable, all things considered. I can’t say that I’m thrilled with the idea of involving myself or my sect in most of that, though. I don’t get to just move on. We have to live here.”
“I can see that which is why I’m not asking for anything too public. I would appreciate it if you would have your people whisper in the right ears that your sect is favorably disposed toward Prince Jing. In case you’re wondering, I put the same request to Feng Bai.”
“Ha! I bet he loved that after you flatly refused to tell him how you killed Tong Guanting.”
“He was not particularly receptive when I first broached the idea. There was grumbling and complaining. He said something about overly lucky core cultivators who have inflated ideas about themselves. In the end, though, he grudgingly agreed that stabilizing the local political situation was ultimately a benefit to his sect.”
Lai Dongmei sat in pensive silence for several seconds before she sighed. “Bai can be a blunt instrument at times. If even he can see the benefits, I can hardly pretend they don’t exist. Very well, I’ll do as you ask.”
“I’m grateful. Thank you.”
“It’s not like it’s just for your benefit,” said Lia Dongmei. “Be careful, Sen. Where you’re headed is poorly explored, at best, and the true wilds at worst. Fu Ruolan has earned her reputation. I’d be disappointed if you never came back to distract me again.”
Sen considered the woman for a long moment and then smirked. “You and me, both.”
***
“Are you serious? He’s still at a brothel?” demanded Sen.
Lo Meifeng gave him a put-upon look. “I assume so. And don’t look at me like it’s my fault. It’s not like I told him to go. You’re the one who gave him the bags of money.”
“Alright, that’s fair,” said Sen, rubbing a spot between his eyes. “I guess there’s nothing for it.”
Sen pulled out the elixir he’d crafted for Shi Peng’s advancement and held it out to Lo Meifeng. She rolled her eyes but took the vial from his hand.
“I’ll see that he gets this. Well, I will if he ever gets tired of whoring. Since you’re leaving, though, what do you want me to do with this house?”
“That’s up to you. It’s yours.”
“What? What am I supposed to do with a house?”
“Historically, people have chosen to live in them. Madness, I know, but you can’t fight history.”
“Very funny,” said Lo Meifeng.
Sen gave her a bright smile. “You can always sell it. I assume that before all this craziness started your work brought you here from time to time. It might be nice to have somewhere to stay that you know is relatively secure. I mean, I did put in all those formations. They should last for decades just soaking up the environmental qi. You shouldn’t even need anyone to look at them.”
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
“That’s true. I wasn’t thinking about it like that.”
“Plus, if you do decide to keep it, and Falling Leaf and I beat the odds and survive this little excursion, it’ll give us a place to start looking for you. Or leave you a message if nothing else. Food for thought.”
Lo Meifeng opened her mouth, then shook her head. Sen lifted an eyebrow in her direction.
“I was going to ask how long you think you’ll be gone, but there’s no way to know. Do you at least know where you’re going?”
“I have a general location. Very general,” said Sen, pulling out his horribly inaccurate map.
He ran his finger in a circle in an area that was probably hundreds of miles to the northwest of the capital.
“That’s a lot of ground to cover by yourself,” said Lo Meifeng.
“I know. I thought about asking Master Feng, Uncle Kho, and Auntie Caihong to help me look, but I’m worried that it’s a terrible idea.”
“They aren’t very…subtle. Well, I don’t know about Ma Caihong, but I’ve heard the stories about Feng Ming and Kho Jaw-long.”
“Exactly. I’m worried they’d go in with the best of intentions and end up getting into a fight with Fu Ruolan over the manual. If that happens, she might never give it to me.”
“You should at least tell them where you’re going.”
Sen smirked at her and pulled out two envelopes from his storage ring. “The letter I promised you, and one telling them where I’m going.”
Lo Meifeng gave Sen a skeptical look. “Did you really tell them where you’re going? Or did you say that just so I’d stop talking about it?”
“I actually told them.”
“You aren’t usually that-,” Lo Meifeng searched for the right word.
“Reasonable? Rational?”
“I was going to say practical.”
Sen felt his expression going a little blank. “I want them to know where to go to find the body if things go badly.”
Lo Meifeng let that grim statement hang in the air before she said, “That makes sense.”
Sen made himself put a happier expression on. “Anyway, enjoy your house if you keep it. Tell Shi Ping…hells, tell him not to slack off with his jian practice.”
Lo Meifeng burst into laughter. “I’ll pass that along.”
“If I don’t see you again,” said Sen, “live well, Lo Meifeng.”
Not for the first time, Sen had the impression that Lo Meifeng was going to say one thing to him, only to change her mind. She gave him a sad smile instead.
“Good luck, Sen.”
Sen took a few steps away so that Lo Meifeng and Falling Leaf could say their goodbyes in private. The women exchanged a few earnest-looking words with each other, and that was it. Falling Leaf walked over to Sen and gave him an expectant, happy look.
“Shall we?” he asked.
***
They managed to pass through the city without attracting either notice or trouble. Falling Leaf looked happier and happier the closer they got to the gates. Sen had mixed feelings as they joined the line to leave the city. He’d come to the capital hoping to find his personal salvation, only to fail utterly in that pursuit. Instead, he’d caused upheaval for the royal family, the sects, and probably the criminal underworld as well. He’d left a river of blood and a small mountain of corpses in his wake. No matter how deserving most of those people had been, that wasn’t what he’d left the mountain to do. He’d never meant to become the kind of person who could do those things, but it had happened anyway. He feared some of it was a failure of character on his part, but he also feared that the world was simply too broken for the kind of life he wanted to lead. Unless he was willing to learn how to turn a blind eye, he worried that his road would remain one of violence. Sen was so caught up in those thoughts that he was startled when the guards at the gate stopped them.
“You said that your name was Lu Sen?” the guard asked.
Sen thought back. He had answered the question about his name without even realizing he’d done it.
“Yes,” he admitted.
“Wait here,” said the guard.
Sen felt Falling Leaf tense beside him. He put a reassuring, and possibly restraining, hand on her arm. The guard disappeared for several minutes before he returned with an older man who carried an air of authority. The old man eyed him critically.
“You’re Lu Sen? The one they call Judgment’s Gale?”
Sen cast a wary eye around them, looking for some kind of trap. He didn’t see one, but that didn’t make him feel better. Just because he couldn’t see it, that was no assurance that a trap wasn’t there.
“I am,” he said cautiously.
The older guard nodded and extended a scroll. “I was bid deliver this to you when left the city.”
“What if I’d left from another gate?” Sen asked, taking the scroll.
“I’m given to understand that there is a copy of that scroll at every gate.”
“I see,” said Sen. “Is that all?”
“It is,” said the older guard. “You’re free to be on your way.”
“Thank you,” said Sen.
He didn’t relax until they were several hours away from the city wall. They weren’t clear of all the surrounding towns and villages, but Sen no longer worried that a trap was waiting for them.
“What does it say?” Falling Leaf eventually asked.
“Let’s find out,” said Sen, breaking the seal and opening the scroll.
Sen,
I’m writing this without fully understanding my own motives for doing so. On the one hand, you have undoubtedly rendered a service to this kingdom. My father’s depravities were a blight not only on this house, not only on this kingdom, but on decency itself. His removal was a terrible necessity. Yet, in achieving that goal, you have left my family in tatters. My mother remains a prisoner, as I suspect she will for the remainder of her life. Of my sisters, only Yu Ming will speak to me, and then only to curse me and you for our respective roles in the deaths of our father and Liwei. She seems to have forgotten entirely that you freed her from the plans of Choi Zhi Peng. In one fell moment, you became both benefactor and bane to me and my family.
I am also aware of your efforts to ensure that the throne remains in my hands. Word has trickled back to me that several of the most powerful sects in the city have informed the other noble houses that they are content with me on the throne. While your name was never mentioned, it seems highly unlikely that those sects acted in a spontaneous outpouring of affection for me. The far more plausible conclusion, I think, is that you acted in some way to encourage those sects to quietly endorse me. While I have concerns about what kind of precedent may have been set, I cannot argue with the results. The quiet rumblings that perhaps another house should lead have been utterly silenced.
I honestly cannot say whether I am awed or terrified by how easily you affected such change in my nation, to say nothing of the influence you exert on the sects. Nor can I pretend that I do not worry what greater changes you might achieve if or when you return. Wisdom tells me that I should ask you to stay away. My advisors begged me to banish you. I had to point out to them that we have no way to enforce such an edict, even if I were to banish you. In the end, though, I will not banish you or even ask you to stay away. Instead, I hope that you find success on your journey. One day, if you return, perhaps we will speak of what has happened here in recent days with calmer minds and the perspective that only time provides. I know you did what you thought was right. While I may wish you had done it another way, I don’t think I can ask anyone for more than that they do what they believe is right.
Jing
It took Sen a long time to realize that he’d stopped walking. He finally looked up to see Falling Leaf staring at him with both concern and annoyance in her eyes.
“What does it say?”
Sen looked back down at the scroll. “It says that Prince Jing, King Jing now, is a better man than I will ever be.”
Falling Leaf eyed the scroll and Sen with a dubious expression. Apparently losing interest in the conversation, she looked up at the sky and sniffed at the air.
“We should go,” she said. “It’s going to rain later. I wish to be well away from this city by then.”
Sen rolled up the scroll and stored it in his storage ring. “Me too.”