A BROKEN JADE SCROLL was spread out on the table, emitting a weak glow. It gave the impression of someone on the verge of death toppled over in the snow, waiting to see if anyone would hear the last wisp of truth issue from their dying lips.
"Xihe-jun, I'll warn you one last time," said Jiang Yexue. "I need you to fully understand this before you make a decision. The history-recording jade scrolls are not like the ancient godly mirror. In the end, they're only a common item. If you insist on prying into their contents, they will require your flesh, blood, and spiritual energy to fill in the cracks. You can still choose to wait. His Imperial Majesty might not discover you were the one who took the scrolls within the month. If you wait, you needn't put yourself at risk; the whole endeavor will be safer."
Mo Xi didn't make a sound, lowering lashes dense as smoke to hide the light that glistened in his eyes.
Eight years ago, as he watched Gu Mang fall into dissolution, he had chosen to wait. He had waited for Gu Mang to pull himself together, waited for time to slowly heal his wounds… But what had that gotten him? Time could not make a collapsed pillar stand tall once more. Its passage would only make broken ruins of what had been a majestic building.
"I've already made him wait too long," Mo Xi said.
Jiang Yexue looked at him, silent.
"Qingxu, please begin."
In the hall of Xihe Manor, Zhou He had one hand on the dagger Lieying at his waist and the other tucked behind his back. Beside him, Gu Mang was restrained by a handful of Sishu Terrace attendants. Zhou He's gaze swept over the anxious crowd from Xihe Manor, past Housekeeper Li with his forehead sheened in sweat and Murong Lian's glowering brows.
A small and icy smile played over Zhou He's lips. "No need to send us off. I'll see myself out." He readied himself to take Gu Mang away. A shichen had passed. There was no news from Mo Xi, and Zhou He had an imperial edict that named Sishu Terrace as the organization with priority access to Gu Mang for any experimentation. It was ironclad; even Murong Lian couldn't snatch Gu Mang from him.
"E-E-Elder Zhou!" Housekeeper Li was seized by an eleventh-hour desperation. "Won't you stay a little longer and have a cup of tea? Xihe Manor has Yaochi Flying Leaves from a thirty-year-old mother plant on the immortal Penglai Island! It was gifted to my lord by the late emperor on the appointment of his title!"
Housekeeper Li's words weren't without thought. Zhou He was a tea aficionado. In a necessary contrast with Sishu Terrace's gory day-to-day affairs, it was said that Zhou He's second-favorite hobby, after digging through people's brains, was tasting tea. Every year the auction house had first-class tea leaves, Zhou He would send someone to bid for them without fail. This was known to all of Chonghua.
As expected, Zhou He's pupils contracted slightly at the words Yaochi Flying Leaves. Housekeeper Li wasted no time turning up the charm. "This tea has been put away for more than ten years. We don't bring it out for ordinary guests—only connoisseurs like Elder Zhou are worthy of drinking it!"
Zhou He's hand caressed Lieying's hilt, as if torn between the joy of gouging out brains and the pleasures of tasting tea. But such commonplace pursuits were, after all, no match for deranged fixation. Zhou He pursed his lips, jerking his chin toward his subordinates. "There's no need. Take him away."
"Yes!"
Housekeeper Li looked like a dog who had failed to protect the house, terrified of his owner's punishment for letting a thief in. He gripped the doorframe as though on the verge of fainting.
The attendants had just about shoved Gu Mang into Sishu Terrace's waiting carriage when Murong Lian spoke up. "Wait a minute."
Zhou He glared at him. "Wangshu-jun, you've seen the imperial edict. What more do you have to say?"
With an impatient puff on his pipe, Murong Lian said, "Take him, then. But let's be clear: you can't have too much fun with him. I'm waiting to put this specimen to use too—if you spoil or kill him, and I can't carry out my experiments…" He looked at him, carelessly rapping his pipe against Zhou He's cheek. "Then your Lian-ge will be very angry," he crooned. "And if your Lian-ge gets angry, you won't find life in Chonghua so easy anymore."
Zhou He scoffed. "Murong Lian, how shameless can you be? You're only three months older than I. Where do you get the nerve to call yourself Ge?"
Murong Lian took another drag of ephemera and blew it over Zhou He's face with a smile. "Gege likes it that way. If you're not happy about it, your mom can shove you back in and birth you again. If you were three months older than me, I'd call you Ge too."
"You—!"
"Hold it, now." Murong Lian waggled a finger at him. "Don't you this or me that—your Lian-ge just had a good idea."
Zhou He glared at him.
"Why don't we do this?" Teeth on his pipe, Murong Lian swaggered over to his carriage. "Since His Imperial Majesty gave you the edict, I naturally can't stop you. You may take him tonight, and I'll come pick him up tomorrow. My black magic spells are also itching to be tested. One night with the subject will be more than enough for you, won't it?"
"No."
Murong Lian narrowed his eyes. This should have made his peach-blossom eyes look flirtatious and demure, but his irises showed the whites beneath, giving him a vicious air. "Sweetheart, don't assume you can do as you please just because you've got an imperial edict. After today, you'll still need to keep living in Chonghua."
Zhou He's light-brown eyes flicked toward him. "Which experiment has Wangshu-jun heard of that can be carried out in one night?"
Murong Lian stared at him. That water pipe in his hand seemed to have taken on his mood; smoke sputtered from it indignantly. "Fine. No time limit then. But I need some assurance this person will stay alive for my turn at the very least."
"What assurance?"
In answer, Murong Lian stepped forward and grabbed at the lapels of Gu Mang's robe to yank him over. He cast a lazy, sidelong look at Zhou He. "I'll leave a tracker." As everyone watched, he took a ring off of his left hand; the precious stone inlaid on its band glistened sapphire-blue. He cast a spell on it, then slid it onto Gu Mang's thumb.
The instant it touched him, Gu Mang was gripped by an inexplicable feeling of panic. His heart pounded with alarm.
"It's essentially no different from the tracking incantation Fireball laid on you before." Murong Lian grabbed Gu Mang's hand and examined it before nodding. "I've cast a spell so it can't be removed. Now I'll at least have some idea if you're dead or alive."
These words were not so much spoken for Gu Mang as for Zhou He. Murong Lian waved his hands as if bored. "All right, you little twerps can get lost now."
Gu Mang stared down at the ring on his thumb, the fear and shock ringing through his mind growing ever more vivid. Unthinking, he looked up to catch Murong Lian's gaze—but Murong Lian had already turned around, taking a long drag on his pipe and exhaling fragrant smoke.
He watched Murong Lian's figure from behind. There was something about this ring that was missing from his memories, and whatever it was, Murong Lian seemed to know it quite well. But even without his memories, Gu Mang knew Murong Lian; he didn't expect this man to tell him anything. And yet—as he stroked the blue stone of the ring, an uncontrollable feeling of familiarity assailed him. Gu Mang felt a bizarre conviction: this ring should have belonged to him from the start, it should always be wherever he was.
Why would he have such a thought? What memories were linked to this ring?
Zhou He left. Murong Lian stayed where he was, gazing out at the starry night as he slowly finished a pipe full of ephemera. After using such a strong hallucinogenic, it was as if his face had been immersed in spring water. A dreamy pleasure showed on his features, yet there seemed to be some warped emotion suppressed beneath. Only after a final exhale did that emotion disperse with the smoke, gradually disappearing…
"Li Wei."
"Ah, does Wangshu-jun have any orders?"
Back to the lights of the manor, Murong Lian stood a while longer, face upturned to the endless night sky. The wooden hairpin keeping his hair-knot in place was utterly at odds with his ostentatious gilt robes. After several moments, Murong Lian at last turned, his gaze shadowed. "Is Mo Xi dead?"
"…Huh?"
"It's been a full shichen, and you still haven't found him—is he dead or are you Xihe Manor people a bunch of useless insects?"
Li Wei hastily came to the defense of his lord and Xihe Manor, sounding chagrined. "Um… Wangshu-jun, you can't say it like that— you saw how it was. We've sent near a hundred messenger butterflies, but not a single one found the lord. Our lord is an important member of the Bureau of Military Affairs; if he's in his office, the messenger butterflies can't pass the barrier. And we can't possibly go look for him in the palace…"
He wasn't wrong, but Murong Lian's mood didn't improve in the slightest. Biting down on his pipe, he turned and began to pace. "Other than the palace, where in the capital are messenger butterflies unable to enter?"
Li Wei was shocked. "Wangshu-jun doesn't know?"
"What use does this lord have of this kind of worthless knowledge! Does this lord send his own messages?" Murong Lian snapped. "Tell me!"
"Ah, y-y-yes," Li Wei replied hastily. "Other than the palace, messenger butterflies can't reach the prison, the Jiang residence, Murong Chuyi's artificer workshop…" He named more than twenty places. Toward the end, Li Wei's voice sank to a murmur, and he snuck a glance at Murong Lian.
"What are you looking at me for?"
Li Wei braced himself. "And the entertainment hall and brothel Wangshu-jun runs."
Murong Lian glared at him, waiting for him to finish.
"And the cultivation academy."
"Send people to all those places to look for Fireball," Murong Lian ordered. "Right now—go."
"At this rate we'll be searching till tomorrow morning—" But when he met Murong Lian's eyes, Li Wei shrank back. "W-w-we'll go right away."
After handing out instructions, Murong Lian cocked his head in thought, running through those twenty-odd locations again. At last, he turned to his own attendants. "We're leaving."
"Does my lord plan to return to Wangshu Manor?"
"No." Murong Lian stepped onto a cushioned stool to enter the carriage, voice cold. "First to the prison, then to the cultivation academy. It might not be convenient for them to go to these places. I'll go."
An hour later, Jiang Yexue sat in a rosewood official's chair, his slender fingers folded over his knees. He stared fixedly at Mo Xi, slumped unconscious beside the history-recording jade scrolls.
The lights in the room were dim. Red spiritual energy flowed ceaselessly from Mo Xi's heart, enveloping the broken jade scrolls. They appeared more whole than before; his spiritual energy had bonded broken edges and filled in the jagged gaps.
Jiang Yexue lifted a hand to look at the water clock in his palm. Mo Xi had been under for a quarter-hour. It had taken a considerable amount of his spiritual energy to repair the scrolls to this extent. By now, Mo Xi could likely begin to read the information recorded within the history scrolls within the spell.
But at this moment, someone started pounding violently on the door. Jiang Yexue frowned and called out, "Who is it?"
Murong Lian's voice answered him. "Damn cripple, get out here and open the door!"
Jiang Yexue looked at the stolen jade scrolls on the table, as well as the unconscious Mo Xi. "It's very late. I'm afraid I'm not in a suitable state to meet with Wangshu-jun. I ask—"
With a loud bang, Murong Lian kicked open the door.
The two of them looked at each other through a floating haze of dust lit by the moon behind them. Murong Lian's gaze moved quickly away from Jiang Yexue, flitting across the interior of the room. He stormed toward the bedroom without another word. But after searching the premises to his satisfaction, he found no one. Murong Lian returned to the main room. "Mo Xi isn't here?"
Jiang Yexue's expression was unchanged, calm and at ease, but his pale, slender fingers were pressed to the most covert mechanism on the wheelchair's armrest. "Why would he be here?" He smiled faintly. "If Wangshu-jun was looking for Xihe-jun, you could've just asked. Did you have to burst in?"
But Murong Lian, with his temper, was accustomed to making trouble. He wouldn't knock on a door if he could push it open, and he wouldn't push it open if he could kick it in. Goody Two-shoes like Jiang Yexue pissed him off, so he was rude as a matter of course. He stared at Jiang Yexue, furious. "The dog this lord raised was left in the care of his manor, and now that dog's been taken by Zhou He for black magic experiments—shouldn't I make him pay?!"
Jiang Yexue stared at him. "Gu Mang was taken by Sishu Terrace?"
Murong Lian didn't bother to repeat himself. He gnashed his teeth. "Why can't I find Mo Xi anywhere… Could he really be in the secret meeting room at the Bureau of Military Affairs?"
Of course Mo Xi was not in the secret meeting room at the Bureau of Military Affairs. He was still collapsed beside the historyrecording jade scrolls, inches from Jiang Yexue and Murong Lian. But Jiang Yexue had filled his bamboo house with a master artificer's mechanisms; by the time Murong Lian broke through the door, Jiang Yexue had activated the living room's illusion spell. Mo Xi hadn't moved from his original spot—but he was invisible to Murong Lian.
"All right then. If you see him, tell him what I said." Murong Lian took a gulp of smoke and exhaled as he spoke, his tone peevish. "I'm leaving."
"I won't see you off, then."
The moment Murong Lian disappeared through the open door, Jiang Yexue wheeled over and closed it before returning to Mo Xi's side. It was quiet in the room; he stared at Mo Xi for a while, then reached out a hand to take his pulse at his neck. He frowned slightly. Mo Xi was already in the midst of reading; if he were to pull him out of it now, this undertaking would become even more dangerous. He could only wait; he couldn't intervene.
He lowered his hands, eyes dark.
As for Gu Mang…what would he endure before Mo Xi woke from chasing those secrets of the past?