Chapter Text
Jieli had told Shangque that she dug her treasures down in the woods. It was not quite so. The truth was that the hot ones, the ones that would burn a hole in her pocket, were sold as soon as possible. But it had been tricky to sell things in Cangyan Sea, given that the items of Silent Moon Palace were easily identified. In addition, when one item went missing, Jieli was the first suspect. For this reason, she had hid things around Arbiter Hall, turning it into her very own treasure chamber.
The building floating behind closed doors wasn’t guarded but laid in a secret dimension inside of the palace. This made it far more secure than a hole in the ground, and the only threat to her riches was Shangque’s infrequent swipes. He had slacked off when it came to his searches, but Jieli did try to stop taking things. When artifacts accidentally turned up in her pouch, she made her best effort to return them. As a result, the latest addition to her treasure chamber were spirit stones that stemmed from her festival shop, and she felt a small sense of pride in that.
Today, Arbiter Hall served as a hiding spot not only for treasures. Jieli wasn’t actively trying to avoid Shangque. He could have found her if he wanted to, but the Moon Supreme kept him busy at all times. It was just as well. The dragon could hear her heartbeat, after all, and that was something Jieli couldn’t lie her way out of. He would ask her what was wrong, just like he had in the past, and she would have to lie to him yet again.
The weather had been terrible for two whole days. Rain, thunder, and lighting had rolled over Cangyan Sea since the day Orchid went inside the cave. Arbiter Hall, caught in perpetual calm weather and clear skies, was the only place where the flashes of light and vibrations of the storm could not be felt. Laying on the bed, snuggled in between pillows and stacked books, it was possible to fool oneself into believing that the world was at peace.
Jieli idly rolled over and stared at a scroll on the floor. It lay splayed open with a drawing of a flower from the Cangyan Sea desert. There had been a mystery to be solved, and in between all her other schemes, Jieli had been reading like a scholar. She had looted the library of its books and scrolls, then diligently returned them to not bring too much attention to herself. This activity was pointless now.
Orchid was a goddess! A goddess of what was still unknown, but Jieli wasn’t sure she cared to find out. Something with healing, that was for sure, which meant that Orchid would survive the ordeals of the Cave of Non-Abidance.
And for what? She’ll survive it only to walk into the hands of Haishi.
What good was it trying to keep her safe? A goddess protected by the Moon Supreme of Cangyan Sea could manage her own business, not needing to be looked after by outsiders. Orchid’s welfare wasn’t for Jieli to concern herself with. They hadn’t trusted her with the truth, which only meant that they didn’t want her involved. The open scroll taunted her, and Jieli snorted and shifted to lay on her other side, not wanting to face proof of how much she’d cared. Not wanting to face how much it stung that the truth had come from the least likely source – Dieyi.
The butterfly demon had been generous with her revelations. Dragons are vengeful, she’d said. Black dragons especially. Jieli furrowed her brows. Surely, that could be just a myth. She had heard similar myths in Yunmeng Lake, and she doubted anyone there had ever met a real dragon. In some regions, it was said that the black dragons represented incarnated evil. That they were cunning and had a bad temper. In other regions, black dragons were said to be responsible for floods and disasters. That they were bringers of bad fortune.
Jieli had deliberately not told Shangque any of this when they were in Yunmeng Lake. There was a reason why there had been no black dragons depicted at the temple they’d visited, but Shangque hadn’t asked, so she had kept quiet. In her mind, she had thought she needed to shield him from it, to protect him in some way. She could laugh at herself now. When would he ever need protection? From what she’d heard, the people of Cangyan Sea had already shared the myths of Yunmeng Lake, whispered them amongst themselves and if Shangque hadn’t already heard them, then he must be deaf.
Jieli let her fingers run lightly over the pouch on her hip, her hand subconsciously fiddling with the threads of the opening. Having a magical pouch was neat. It could expand to hold all sorts of artifacts, and it could equally shrink items to make them fit inside. Powerful immortals could summon things into the palm of their hand from magical spaces of their own creation, but Jieli depended on her pouch.
Her fingers felt their way to the knot at the top. Ever so often during these last days, she had pulled at the ties to peek inside. She had told herself that she should look into the Spirit Dream Mirror, or get rid if it. No point in keeping it if she wasn’t going to use it. The artifact would fetch a solid price on the black market if it was cleaned free of whatever memories were inside. Yet, Jieli hadn’t looked, nor had she removed the images it held.
Some things were true, others were not. Which was what? She wanted to rationalize her way out of her thoughts, but there was a nagging voice in her that wouldn’t let go. Shangque was sweet, kind, but… The people of Cangyan Sea did not love their leaders, they feared them and respected only their power. Just as they had spoken of the cruelty of Dongfang Qingcang, they had also spoken of the Moon Supreme’s lieutenant.
The servant followed his master in all things. Always abiding by orders, cold, calculated, and quick to summon his sword. She knew all of this. It was the Shangque she had first met, first spoken to. Ill-tempered and with a cold stare, brutal in his execution of orders. She’d already seen this side of him, already knew that there was some truth to the myths and rumors.
Jieli closed her eyes and moaned into a pillow. This was what Dieyi wanted – to have her second guess everything. It worked regardless of whether she looked in the mirror or not. Filled with doubt, her loyalty would be firmly placed with Liufang Pavilion for lack of anywhere else to go, and she hated that it worked. Here she was, finding reasons to not trust others the same way they clearly did not trust her.
The sun set on Arbiter Hall and Jieli threw the pillow away and sat up, glaring at the orb of light. The peacefulness stood in jarring contrast to the reality of stormy winds and loud bangs of the outside world. It was already evening, and even if her mind was not ready for it, the time had come. Six days had gone since she received three pills of antidote from Dieyi, and since then, there had been no refills. Dieyi had been angry, and the consequence was an even tighter leash. That left only six days for the Wuxian apprentice to work on replicating an antidote. It was a far fetched hope, even as kind as he had been in wanting to help her.
Jieli stood up on shaking legs, closed her eyes for a moment, and then searched between the cracks in the floor, looked behind furniture and held vases upside down to pour out the contents. With her pouch full of spirit stones, she made her way over to the exit of the tranquil space. Up in the sky was the hidden door that would lead her back to the dim corridors of the palace. The loud thunder met her the moment the doors opened, and she could feel the chill and pressing moisture in the air.
Every maid and servant of the palace kept their eyes down as she passed, scurrying to where they needed to be without stopping to chat. It suited her fine, Jieli wasn’t in the mood to talk. She jumped across the galleries, staying away from the corridors leading to the Moon Supreme’s quarters. She wasn’t actively avoiding any large dragons, just stretching her legs and hurrying along to not get soaked from the downpour.
She landed at the servants gallery, and was about to head out to the courtyard when she looked up to see a tall man dressed in black from head to toe. Out of all the places in the palace, and despite her careful skipping around, she’d ended up nearly landing on his lap. Shangque’s hopeful eyes met hers over a tray filled with food, delicacies surely meant to try and coax the Moon Supreme into eating something.
Not now, I can’t speak to you now. Not yet.
She rarely made moves without thinking them through carefully, but now she turned on her heel and briskly walked in the opposite direction. Not surprisingly, Shangque followed. Out of all the people in the realms to fall for, she had to choose someone she would not be able to outrun. Right now this fact felt suffocating.
“Jieli, wait! Where are you going?” he asked as he caught up with her.
She stopped with a frown, angry with her rash decision. If Shangque hadn’t surprised her, she might have made a more sensible choice, not turning away from him so abruptly and causing a scene.
“I’m going to the market,” she answered as nonchalantly as she could while keeping her gaze on something in the distance. Looking him in the eyes proved too difficult.
“The market? Now, in the rain?” he questioned, paused for a moment, and then added, “I have to deliver this and then I can come with you.”
Panic surged in her. Jieli’s last hope lay in this impossible plan, and she could not have anything spoil it at the finish line.
“Help me?” she huffed. “You’re busy! Besides I don’t need help, I’m fine on my own. It’s just water.”
“I know I’ve been busy these days. We’ve barely seen each other since the Mountain and Moon festival. But Orchid returns from the cave tomorrow morning, so then…”
Shangque’s voice dwindled and Jieli cast a slanted look up at him. Noticing a light blush on his cheeks, her heart stung. The festival had only been four days ago, but it might as well have been four years. She had missed him, missed his kisses and late-night cuddles. Missed his strong arms around her, and his breath against her neck as she drifted off to sleep. He probably wanted to pick up where they had left off, and she turned away, fearing the part of herself that longed to be close again.
“It’s fine. We’re both busy right now,” she said, wanting to cut the conversation short. “The Moon Supreme needs you by his side and as for me… There’s a wedding to be planned. With an impossibly short time for preparations and I really do need to go now.”
She pushed past him, shoulder bumping against his. It was best to get away quickly before Shangque had the chance to say anything else. Before he could set those dark eyes on hers and make her change her mind again, the way he always managed to.
“Are you still angry with me?” Shangque asked behind her, his voice calm despite the hint of hurt.
“No, I’m…” she mumbled, searching for the words without finding them. “I’m just busy right now.”
The look on the apprentice’s face said it all. The storage building shrank and Jieli braced herself. The formerly so lively young man’s eyes appeared dull and tired, as if he’d aged over the last days. The healers of the palace were all working overtime, feeling the pressure of the situation. Even if Orchid and Dongfang Qingcang would be fine, Jieli wondered how long it’d take everyone else to recover.
“Bad news, then?” she asked, preparing for the worst.
The apprentice pulled up a small vial and placed it on the table. Jieli stared at it as she awaited the verdict, glad for the veil hiding her expression. She didn’t think she’d been so nervous about anything in her entire life.
“The good news is that I was able to identify 94% of the ingredients. They are fairly common and easy to get a hold of. But the rest will require more time,” he said, then paused to sigh and slump even further down his chair. “Unfortunately I haven’t had the time. With the situation lately being the one it is…” he smiled apologetically. “You know all about it, working in the palace.”
Jieli tightened up, only nodding in reply. So this was it, then. He hadn’t been able to identify the remaining ingredients. There hadn’t been enough time.
“Thank you for your efforts,” she said, trying to prevent her voice from shaking, and opened her pouch, pulling up the spirit stones to pay him with.
“If you let me hold on to it for a few more days, I might still be able to identify the last fragments. I have to warn you, though. This does not look like something that would be simple to replicate. It might be best to buy the medicine for your sister, even if it is expensive. Rare ingredients will be dangerous to search for.”
“I see,” Jieli whispered, her throat feeling a bit dry.
Of course, it would be better to have the right combination prepared by someone who knew what they were doing. A homemade antidote would likely be fatal. The entire plan had always been extremely unlikely to succeed. She reached for the vial and popped it open to check that the tiny, valuable pill was still inside.
“You are right, I think I will have to buy this from now on, even if it is expensive. There is no need for you to look further into it.”
“I’m sorry,” he said and gave her a weak smile.
Jieli barely registered it, standing up and readying herself to step back into the downpour. The umbrella she’d brought had already gotten soaked, and the sudden winds had torn and twisted it, making it unsuitable to keep anyone but a cricket dry. It was pointless to take it with her, but she did all the same.
“Goodbye,” she said with a bow, then slipped out the door.
Tomorrow morning Orchid would exit the cave, and Jieli knew what she had to do. She’d tuck herself away until then, avoiding all distractions. Orchid was a goddess, not her friend. And Shangque… If she ever felt regret, she’d always have the Spirit Dream Mirror. She hoped it contained something horrible, something absolutely terrible to make her feel glad that she left. Regardless of whether it was true or not.