Book 12: Chapter 44: Go Away!

Hsiao Jiayi leaned against a tree and just let herself rest for a moment. When she’d first come up with the idea to take whatever mortals she could find and try to get Lu Sen to give them sanctuary, it had sounded simple. And, she supposed it was simple. What she hadn’t fully considered was how

hard

it would be to follow through on that idea. It had been a bloody, bloody business just getting them to the Mountains of Sorrow through the shattered remains of her father’s kingdom. There had been so much hiding and so much more fighting. Fighting that had always been to the death. Fighting that had always required them to kill every last spirit beast, lest their location be discovered.

Getting those mortals over the mountains had been even worse in some ways. The cultivators, at least, had the benefits of cultivation to help shield them from the unbearable cold as they scaled those peaks. The mortals had nothing but their frail constitutions and what aid the cultivators could spare. She suspected that their lives of ill treatment had not helped that matter. Nor had the surly indifference of the cultivators as they travelled. It had been a constant mental battle to keep people moving, to keep them encouraged, or to browbeat them into actually helping. She doubted she would ever share Lu Sen’s seemingly infinite tenderness toward the mortals. But this journey had given her a better understanding of his towering rage toward cultivators who wanted to treat them as cattle.

This entire journey was a political gamble. A gamble that she had explained to the cultivators in depth. One that was designed almost entirely to give those very cultivators a chance at survival on the day when Judgment’s Gale crossed the mountain. Yet, even after that, most of them couldn’t let go of their disdain. They would have watched those mortals freeze to death or fall off the mountains and shrugged. At times, it felt like the only thing keeping them moving forward was her will. The worst part, the very worst part of it all, was watching the mortal families. She would see parents hand over their share of food to their children or blankets they themselves needed. They did without a second thought. She watched them rock those small, frightened children to sleep with soothing lies.

It was so utterly selfless. It was so alien. How she burned with envy at the sight. As a child, perhaps, a kind maid had soothed her fears, but not her parents. She’d never even met her mother. That woman, whoever she was, had been nothing more to her father than a cultivator of sufficient strength that she might bear children with an aptitude for cultivation. Once he was done with her, she had been dismissed. Or exiled. Or murdered. No one had known by the time she’d thought to ask. There had been other women her father favored for a time who temporarily held that role. She’d even called some of them mother, as she’d been ordered.

Now, she wished that someone had been willing to tell her what her mother’s name had been. If her father didn’t murder her, it was almost certain that the spirit beasts had killed her. Not that she would have known what to say if that woman had survived. They would be no better than strangers to each other. However, death was the most likely outcome. Still, it would have been nice to have a name to put on the grave marker Hsiao Jiayi meant to erect if she survived this war. Shaking off those thoughts, she pushed away from the tree. It was time to see how many people had died

this

time.

She wasn’t sure exactly what she’d expected to happen when she crossed the mountains. Admittedly, things were better. They’d faced far fewer spirit beast attacks, and the attacks involved fewer powerful spirit beasts. Better was not good, though. The mortals lacked the strength to fight the spirit beasts, and every cultivator who had come with her was exhausted. Even cultivating at night while the mortals huddled around fires and slept was barely enough to keep them moving. It might not have been so bad if she knew exactly where to go, but she only knew where the capital was located. Of Lu Sen’s domain, she only knew it was somewhere to the north of that city.

That had left them wandering the wilds in search of roads or villages or any sign of life. Of which there had been none for a long time. When they finally had found a road, it had only led to one lifeless village after the next. Usually, those villages were in ruins. She wasn’t proud of it, but they had ransacked those villages for anything that might be of use. Food. Clothing. Anything. The spirit beast attacks had provided them with meat, so no one was starving yet. But even she could see that the mortals weren’t healthy. Cultivators might be able to ignore food or sustain themselves on spirit beast meat alone for years at a time. Mortals, it seemed, didn’t eat vegetables just for variety.

Hsiao Jiayi stopped next to Wu Ying Yue. The woman had become her right hand, less because of talent than because she seemed neutral about the mortals. The woman looked as tired as Hsiao Jiayi felt, simply staring into the distance blankly.

“How many?” asked Hsiao Jiayi.

She didn’t want the answer. Duty compelled her to ask. She’d brought all of these people to this place far from their homes. That made them her responsibility until she could hand them over to someone else. Hopefully, that someone would have Lu Sen’s ear.

“We lost one core cultivator, and two of the foundation formation cultivators are badly injured,” said Wu Ying Yue in an emotionless voice. “Twenty mortals died. Several more probably won’t see the dawn.”

“I see,” said Hsiao Jiayi, unwilling to thank anyone forced to relay that kind of news.

“Lady Hsiao.”

“Yes?”

“We can’t keep going this way.”

“I know.”

“If we build a shelter somewhere, we can continue when spring breaks,” said Wu Ying Yue, a faint spark of life returning to her eyes.

Hsiao Jiayi loathed that she would be the one to extinguish that spark, but it had to be done.

“We can’t?”

“Why?” asked the other woman in a desperate whisper.

“The mortals would never survive. Look at them. They need food. The kind you can only find where there’s still civilization. Plus, if we were discovered here, by the kingdom or by a sect, what do you imagine they would do?”

“We could fight.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“We could, but we’d make an eternal enemy of Judgment’s Gale that way. I’ve met the man. I assure you that he is an enemy none of us would survive.”

Hsiao Jiayi could see that the other woman wanted to keep arguing. She understood it. They had spent desperate days fleeing, just to end up wandering in this only slightly less hostile place. No one wanted to keep going, especially when her promises of a safe place to rest seemed more and more like a lie she was telling to keep them going.

“Have the scouts returned yet?” she asked.

The scouts were her great hope. They didn’t even need to find Lu Sen’s territory. If they found any kind of place that might offer shelter and a comfort or two, that would be enough at this point. Wu Ying Yue dashed those hopes with a single shake of her head. That such a simple gesture was almost enough to shatter her resolve told Hsiao Jiayi everything she needed to know about how close she was to despair. That spiral toward despair was halted when it was replaced by dread. Two terrifyingly powerful spiritual senses swept over them all. It was all she could do to draw her sword and try to cycle some qi. A moment later, two women descended on them from on high. Each of them carried the limp form of a cultivator she’d sent ahead to scout. The scouts were tossed to the ground. Mercifully, both still lived. РÀℕÔΒЁs

One of the nascent soul cultivators, whose imperial bearing and cold gaze made Hsiao Jiayi want to crawl into the ground, opened her mouth to speak. But the other one swept a glare across the quivering mass of mortals and cultivators and spoke first.

“Go away,” she snapped.

The cold-eyed one took a slow breath and said, “Please be still, Ruolan. Let me at least talk to them first.”

“But I want them to go away,” complained the angry one.

“I know. Let’s see what they have to say, first.”

“Fine.”

The imperial one looked at Hsiao Jiayi and said, “I am Ma Caihong. This is Fu Ruolan. Why are you here? And why do you have starving, half-frozen mortals with you?”

Hsiao Jiayi’s mouth went dry.

Ma Caihong

. Alchemy’s Handmaiden. The Poisoned Hand. The Serpent’s Whisper, herself, was standing within arm’s reach. A distance that legend held was not a safe place to be. As if that wasn’t enough, the madwoman Fu Ruolan was with her. Of all the cultivators she could have encountered, Hsiao Jiayi couldn’t imagine two less forgiving figures.

She tried to speak, to summon those skills that had let her survive in so many hostile courts, but she couldn’t find the words. She had imagined arguing passionately with Lu Sen’s people that they should at least take in the mortals. That argument could have been lost and left them no worse off than they had been. If nothing else, she might have negotiated for food. If she got

this

wrong, offended either of

these

women, it could mean instant death for everyone.

“Speak, child,” said Ma Caihong with a hint of irritation. “I have many tasks that require my attention.”

There was nothing for it. She could not ignore a question from Alchemy’s Handmaiden. Taking a steadying breath, Hsiao Jiayi plunged forward.

“I am, that is, I was Princess Hsiao Jiayi of the Kingdom of Kanshun.”

Ma Caihong lifted an eyebrow and said, “You seem alive enough to me.”

Hsiao Jiayi grimaced and said, “I might be, but Kanshun is not. It has fallen.”

Ma Caihong and Fu Ruolan exchanged an opaque glance before they looked over the group that had come so far. It seemed to Hsiao Jiayi that Ma Caihong’s expression softened a little, even if Fu Ruolan’s did not. Then again, maybe she was just hoping that.

“That explains your condition, but not your presence here,” Ma Caihong finally said.

“We did not mean to disrupt the important work of nascent soul cultivators,” said Hsiao Jiayi. “We are seeking the domain of Lu Sen.”

“Are you now?” said Fu Ruolan, and there was a fey light in the woman’s eyes that made her look truly unhinged and dangerous. “And why would you be doing that?”

“Sanctuary,” she choked out around her fear.

“For all of you?” asked Ma Caihong, her gaze steady and unreadable.

“For the mortals.”

“And what interest would a nascent soul cultivator like him have in these mortals?”

Nascent soul

, thought Hsiao Jiayi. She knew that was impossible, but Ma Caihong had nothing to gain by telling such a lie. Her thoughts tried to spin in a thousand directions before she brought them under control again. It didn’t matter if he was a nascent soul cultivator. It wouldn’t affect his choice. She thought she understood him well enough to know that.

“I met him,” said Hsiao Jiayi.

It was the only answer she had, but it should also be all of the answer anyone else who had met him would need. Ma Caihong looked from her to the ragged mortals and cultivators behind her. Fu Ruolan actually looked mildly nauseated.

“A moment, please,” said Ma Caihong.

The woman pulled what looked to be a beast core out of her pocket and focused on it for a moment. Then a voice that Hsiao Jiayi hadn’t heard in years issued forth from the core.

“Yes?” said a distracted-sounding Sen.

“Sen, dear. It’s Auntie Caihong.”

“Auntie Caihong? What’s going… Will you stop saying you’re going to be my grandfather-in-law! I’m not marrying her!” shouted Sen. “I’m sorry, Auntie Caihong. Laughing River is in Emperor’s Bay, and he’s making a nuisance of himself.”

“Oh, don’t listen to him, Caihong. We’re just negotiating terms,” said a cheerful voice that Hsiao Jiayi didn’t recognize.

So many things that she didn’t understand were happening too close together. What was that core? How was Ma Caihong speaking to Sen through it? For that matter,

Auntie Caihong

? How brave was Lu Sen that he’d called that terrifying woman

Auntie

? And who was Judgment’s Gale refusing to marry, and why? All of it made Hsiao Jiayi’s head hurt.

“We are not negotiating anything. Go stand over there!” said Sen.

“Who’s Laughing River?” asked Hsiao Jiayi before she could keep the words inside.

“King of the nine-tail foxes,” said Ma Caihong absently. “Don’t they still teach history on the other side of the mountains?”

Before Hsiao Jiayi could figure out how to respond to that piece of utterly insane news, Sen started talking again.

“I’m sorry. Things are a bit hectic here. What’s going on? You don’t usually contact me like this.”

“Well, right now, I’m looking at a woman named Hsiao Jiayi.”

“What?” demanded a furious-sounding Sen. “What in the thousand hells is she doing that close to the town?”

“She says that Kanshun has fallen. She’s here with what appear to be many mortal refugees. She’s asking that we provide the mortals sanctuary.”

As the silence from the core dragged out, Hsiao Jiayi found herself staring at it harder and harder. She wondered if she could make him agree if she just willed it hard enough.

“Do you believe her?” asked Sen, his voice tight.

Ma Caihong looked them all over again and said, “I believe they are genuine refugees. I also believe that they won’t survive to reach another destination.”

“Very well, provide the mortals sanctuary.”

Hsiao Jiayi almost collapsed from the relief that crashed down on her. She’d done it. She’d gotten them to safety.

“And what about the cultivators with them?” asked Ma Caihong, her gaze fixed on Hsiao Jiayi. “What shall I do with them?”

A cold hand wrapped around her heart. She’d never considered this possibility. If Lu Sen asked his

Auntie Caihong

to execute all of the cultivators from Kanshun, Hsiao Jiayi didn’t think any of them would survive for more than a minute. There was a weary sigh from the core.

“I can’t be objective about them,” said Sen. “Unless I miss my guess, Hsiao Jiayi is staring at you with a frantic expression on her face right about now.”

“She is,” said Ma Caihong with what sounded like amusement.

“As long as they haven’t broken any of my laws, I’ll let you decide what to do with them.”

“I understand. I’ll let you get back to your hectic events. Tell Laughing River I said hello.”

“Does punching him count?”

“Not usually,” said Ma Caihong with a laugh before slipping the core back into her pocket.

“You’re going to let them come to the town, aren’t you?” demanded Fu Ruolan, giving everything and everyone a dirty look.

“For now,” admitted Ma Caihong.

“Damn that boy. There’s always another one of his doe-eyed cultivator waifs showing up!”