Ave Xia Rem Y

~~~

When the temple appears on the horizon, Chang Gong and Chang Zhiyu can only look at it with tears in their eyes.

The brothers do not know how long it has been since they were dropped in the Dead Plains. Their attempts to keep track of time have long since stopped. Though they are both capable Inner Disciples that work in the Division of Internal Disputes, the pair has almost died several times already. To impossibly powerful Spirit Beasts. To bizarre geography. To unpredictable weather conditions. Their journey across the Dead Plains has been one nightmare after another.

The robes that mark them as disciples of the Eternal Flame Clan, usually beautiful and pristine, are now stained with dirt and dried blood. Their faces shine with sweat, and they are so tired they have to lean on each other for support.

They are undeniably a pathetic sight.

It had been ten of them at the start of their journey. Only the two of them remain now. The others are either dead or abandoned the quest along the way. The Chang brothers do not know what became of the latter group, but they’d like to believe they made it back safely to the Crimson Cloud Empire. Regardless of alliances, no one deserves to die in the Dead Plains. That is what this experience has taught them.

The closer they get to the temple, the quicker their steps become, eagerness getting the best of them. Soon, they are no longer leaning on each other but running as fast as their tired bodies are capable of. This cannot wait. It cannot be done with patience. Before them lies the culmination of all their trials! The proof of their success!

They stop.

A soft, haunting melody whispers in their ears. The brothers immediately move to stand with their backs to each other, ready to defend themselves.

A girl appears between them and the temple. She sits on the grass with a guqin laid out before her. She looks small and delicate, with brown eyes and hair. Like them, she wears the robes of an Inner Disciple of the Eternal Flame Clan, though hers are in far better condition.

Upon taking a closer look, Chang Gong notices the many imperfections in the cloth. It is not that she has not experienced her fair share of hardships. However, unlike them, she has had time to wash and clean herself.

She is in the Ninth Level of the Spirit Realm.

“You are from Lord Feng Shang’s faction.”

Their breath is caught in their throat. The girl says it as an absolute fact. There is no room for them to even think about denying it.

“Here.”

She reaches into her robes and tosses something at them, her song never wavering. The Chang brothers reflexively leap back, expecting an attack. None comes. Instead, they are left staring at the two small rocks that now lie a few feet away from them.

Chang Gong’s eyes widen.

“Are those-?”

“They are the temple stones you have come for,” the girl says. “Take them and leave, followers of Lord Feng Shang.”

Chang Gong does not move to pick up the stones. Instead, he aims a suspicious look at the girl, one that is mirrored by his brother.

“How do we know they are actually temple stones?”

The girl’s expression does not change, yet the Chang brothers feel she is decidedly unimpressed with them.

“Try breaking them if you wish to. Their hardness should be evidence enough,” she says in a dull monotone, as if that should have been obvious. “Now, once again, do take those and leave.”

“Leave? We barely got here alive!” Chang Zhiyu says, too tired to care that the one he is speaking to is obviously stronger than him. “You might as well be sending us to our deaths!”

The girl stops playing.

The Chang brothers immediately step back.

“A valid point,” she says. A small sack appears in her hand, and she tosses it to them. This time, Chang Gong catches it without thinking. “The medicine there will replenish your strength. There is enough for you to make the journey back. Of course, you can choose to stay here, but if you do…”

She pauses. The girl’s aura does not increase to oppress them with its force. Instead, she diminishes it, and by doing so, allows them to feel the dozens of auras lying in wait inside the temple. The brothers had been so focused on the girl that, in their tired state, they completely missed them.

“Make no mistake. If you stay, you will do so as our prisoners.”

The music begins playing once more.

“Which will it be?”

~~~

Fan Bingbing finds Qing Jin in his chambers. Her fellow disciple sits on the floor while refining several ingredients at once, his aura gently rising around him. Direct Resonance is what Elder Geng called it during the banquet. It is undoubtedly an impressive sight. Many disciples would stay silent out of fear of disrupting Qing Jin’s concentration, but Fan Bingbing knows there is no need for that.

Qing Jin’s concentration is not the sort of thing that can be broken by a few sentences.

“Two disciples from Lord Feng Shang’s faction came by earlier today.”

“Which offer did they take?”

As expected, Qing Jin answers without stopping his work or even opening his eyes. He is already moving to the next stage and mixing the ingredients.

“They took the first offer. I gave them supplies and sent them on their way.”

Whenever a disciple finds the temple, they are given two choices. If they are fellow members of Lord Feng Gui’s faction, they can either leave with a stone after resting or stay in the temple with them until they are all ready to make the journey back.

If they are from Lord Feng Shang’s faction, they can either leave with the stone and some supplies, or they can choose to stay as prisoners. So far, nearly all of them have taken the first choice, which is a good thing. If enough of them were to gather here, they may start getting ideas and cause trouble.

“Good. Anything else?”

“Brother Ten was talking about staying here for good earlier today.”

“Again?” Qing Jin sighs. “Tell him to stop. The Dead Plains are not safe for us. The moment we start thinking of this place as our home is the moment when the Dead Plains will expel us. Or worse.”

In this temple, they have found shelter and an environment rich in ambient Qi. There are plenty of Spirit Beasts for them to hunt. Even more so now that their numbers have grown. Thanks to Qing Jin and the other members of the Apothecary, pills are easy enough to make. Already their power has increased substantially.

It is not rare for someone like Ten Zichun to start getting ideas as a result. As someone who comes from nothing, there is nothing tying him to the Eternal Flame Clan, especially after everything that has happened recently. He is hardly the only one who thinks that way. Why go back to the Eternal Flame Clan when staying here might benefit them more?

However, Qing Jin will hear none of that. On this matter, he is adamant in a way that is almost strange. Qing Jin seems certain that they should not indulge in the act of thinking of the Eye as their home. It goes well beyond superstition and caution.

He knows something. That much is obvious to Fan Bingbing. It is hardly the first time Qing Jin somehow knows things most people don’t. Despite having no ties to any of the major powers within the Empire, Qing Jin’s education is exceedingly profound. On his chosen fields, Fan Bingbing dares say he will not lose even to masters with centuries of experience.

After all, most people cannot unlock meridians.

Qing Jin did not tell her he was doing it, but she is not like the other five who were too weak, stunned, and awed by everything that had happened to notice. While the others may attribute their increased cultivation speed to the Dead Plains, she knows the real cause.

Qing Jin hasn’t unlocked the meridians of those who arrived later, nor has he approached any of those who helped defeat Qu Rou to reveal what he has done. Both are good moves on his part. It is not a skill that one should advertise.

Though Fan Bingbing knows her meridians will return to their previous stage eventually, she has no plans to confront Qing Jin about his skill or ask him to keep applying the treatment to her. Qing Jin has earned her silence on this matter. She will just make the best of her temporarily increased cultivation speed.

“Is there anything wrong?” Fan Bingbing asks as Qing Jin holds up a flask containing one of the potions he just made and looks at it with a frown.

“Nothing,” he replies a little too quickly. “It is just… I am still not satisfied with this one.”

“That is one of the potions we give to those who chose to leave, is it?” Fan Bingbing asks. “Elixir of the 400-Day Journey?”

“The one who named it was a little too presumptuous. Or so I have heard,” Qing Jin says. “I have been trying to improve the recipe, but it still doesn’t quite live up to its name.”

Fan Bingbing makes a small sound to show she is listening but does not offer any input. There is no point in reassuring him that his potion has made a great difference in the journeys of those who have left. He does not need it. Qing Jin already knows his work is good. Likewise, there is no point in telling him he will accomplish his goal because Qing Jin’s skill is obvious to all. Once he sets his mind to something, it is not a matter of if but when.

Instead, Fan Bingbing chooses to move to another subject.

“The Exploration Division wishes to venture further into the temple.”

Qing Jin gives her a look.

“The Exploration Division or you?”

“One could argue that since I am the highest-ranking member of the Exploration Division present, my words are the words of the Exploration Division.”

“One could,” Qing Jin agrees. “No.”

Fan Bingbing sighs softly. Although she knew he would most likely deny her, she cannot help but be saddened. During the time they have been here, they have discovered the temple goes far deeper underground than they had assumed. She had read some records in the Exploration Division that spoke about it, but seeing it first-hand is different.

Of course, she understands why Qing Jin doesn’t want to venture further underground. There is no telling what sorts of dangers lurk down there. There may be creatures even more dangerous than the Mother Spider waiting for them.

“Are you… pouting?”

“I am most definitely not.”

“Senior Brother Qing!” A disciple bursts into the room. “Another member of Lord Gui’s faction has arrived. She wishes to speak to you, but…she has brought someone with her.”

~~~

Lu Mei leaps into Qing Jin’s arms and kisses him as soon as she lays eyes on him.

And keeps kissing him.

And kissing him.

And kissing him.

It does not look like she is going to stop anytime soon.

Fan Bingbing gives a cursory glance to the faces of those assembled in the main hall. What she finds is a mixture of envy, amazement, and awkwardness. As more seconds pass, the awkwardness becomes increasingly prominent.

Either Sister Lu has really missed Qing Jin, or she is making sure everyone is aware of her claim.

It is probably a mix of both, Fan Bingbing decides. That sort of thing is why she has never bothered with romantic or sexual attachment. She understands it, but she understands it enough to know she does not want to deal with it. Betrayal. Jealousy. Envy. Grudges. It is nothing short of Divine Providence when love does not spiral into something ugly.

For someone like Fan Bingbing, who already has a hard time finding people she tolerates, the whole thing is profoundly inane. Still, she’ll not begrudge Qing Jin for indulging in it. He is one of the few people she can talk to. A few vices can be overlooked between friends so long as they do not become an impediment.

The kiss ends.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“Oh? Are you talking now? Are you sure you don’t want to stare longingly into each other’s eyes for a few hours? I could fetch a bedroll.”

Every eye in the entrance hall turns towards the “someone” Sister Lu has brought with her. Though surrounded by people from the opposing faction, the most unruly son of the Bei Clan does not seem even slightly bothered. He meets every single stare aimed at him with unwavering eyes.

It would be impressive if it wasn’t painfully stupid.

“We were transported to the same place, so we decided to join forces until we found a safe place to settle our differences,” says Lu Mei, immediately moving to stand beside Qing Jin. “As you can see, it took a while.”

“But we finally did it!” Bei Hong smashed his fist into his open palm. “What are we waiting for?”

With much patience, Qing Jin walks up to Bei Hong. The people around them stare in silence, tension crackling in the air.

“You are not actually thinking of trying to fight everyone here.”

“Yes, I am.”

“…Yes, you are.” Qing Jin turns around and sighs. Immediately, all those around them tense, ready to attack Bei Hong. “Hold.”

A single word from Qing Jin stops them. He looks back at Bei Hong and raises a finger.

“A one-on-one match. No interruptions. If you lose, you will agree to be our prisoner.”

Bei Hong stops to consider it, his mouth twisting several times he does so.

“Alright,” he says, cracking his knuckles. “I accept! We never have gotten the chance to fight each other.”

“I never said you were fighting me.”

For the first time, Bei Hong’s unshakable confidence is marred by confusion. “Oh? If not you, then who?” His gaze finds Fan Bingbing. “Her?”

“No, foolish cousin.”

Bei Hong’s face sours as soon as he hears him. Tall and broad-shouldered with dark eyes and a hair of a very light shade of brown. It is clear to anyone watching that the man who walks into the main hall is related to Bei Hong.

His name is Bei Duyi. He is one of the disciples that have joined up with them in the temple.

“You will fight me.”

He is also Bei Hong’s cousin.

~~~

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