AN LING QI (安泠岐)

  Day 8, 4th Month of the Lunar Calendar, 6000th Year of the Yun Dynasty, Shuishang Province, Huadu Sect

  Boxes and boxes and boxes lined the table. Huge and small, all of them wrapped with ribbons and silk. I scanned the room. It was unusually quiet, as if some presence had scared away even the wind. I angled my needles inside my left-hand sleeve. No matter how stealthy the assailant was, they couldn't surprise attack me.

  But who was this mysterious giver?

  I cautiously stepped towards the table. The smell was the first thing that hit me. A seductive and smothering scent that weighed in the air. I sniffed: sandalwood, overlaid with patchouli and gardenia. Strangely, there wasn’t a hint of poison.

  I pulled apart the perfect ribbon bow. A white rectangular card clattered onto the table. It was pressed with a mark. A symmetrical symbol, which had the wings of a dove and the tail of a phoenix. The dove’s wings unfurled toward the sky giving the impression of elegance and completeness, whilst the tail chaotically twisted off the body of the creature; agitated and disrupted. The dragon head’s scales shimmered like jewels against the bland paper.

  It was Taishan’s royal seal. I smiled in wry amusement. Despite deliberately resigning to get away from the court, trouble had found me once again.

  “I know you are there, Your Majesty,” I called.

  From the adjacent room, a lady gracefully walked out. She was wearing her famous rose-red, gold-tinted dress. The skirts dripped around her feet like molten lava. She waved her matching silk fan.

  “Intelligent as always, Blossom Deity,” Empress Huangmei responded.

  I fully faced her. “Not as intelligent as Your Majesty.”

  Clasping her fan shut, she rolled her eyes. “Let’s talk business.”

  I widened my eyes in false coyness. “As Your Majesty wishes.”

  We circled the table cats eyeing a mouse. But it was yet to be determined who was the cat. And who was the mouse. She stroked the table with a pointed nail making an audible scratching noise that set my teeth on edge.

  “Blossom Deity, I want to propose a truce.”

  A truce? I glanced toward the boxes of gifts and smiled sweetly.

  “I don’t understand. Your Majesty, you have to be more specific.” It was a lie that we both knew. But she couldn’t do anything about it.

  She flashed white teeth. “I am giving you a gift.” She lay a finger on top of one of the boxes. “These are the finest herbs any alchemist could dare to dream of. These are books of medical knowledge from my private vault.”

  It was a handsome price for my services. But I would never work for her. Not again.

  “You overestimate my abilities. I dare not serve Your Majesty for fear I will disappoint.”

  She seemed undaunted as she continued, “It’s nothing too difficult. I just want you to make something your mother created a long time ago.”

  I silently exhaled. My mother was a well-known apothecary. Not for her healing skills, however. But for her ability to make poisons. Poisons which could kill and leave no traces. If the Empress wanted me to make something my mother created, it wasn't going to be good. The next words I said had to be carefully phrased.

  “Your Majesty, I must apologise. My mother has already passed on, along with all the knowledge she possessed.”

  She assessed me, as if thinking of how best to startle me.

  “bīnghuǒdú. I’m sure you and I remember what that is?”

  Her words cut through the air, shattering the stale mate. At last, she had revealed her true intentions for coming to my place.

  She wanted bīnghuǒdú.

  The last time anyone was poisoned by that was six-thousand years ago in a failed assassination attempt by Ze Lujin. After which, many apothecaries and alchemists tried to recreate the recipe, hoping to earn some credibility. As if making a poison that could dissipate the soul of an Immortal was a trophy to be proud of.

  How great that it has made an appearance in my company again. There was no mistake that she wanted me to make it for her.

  Like she hasn’t hurt enough people.

  Death by poison was one of the worst ways to die. Blood was already on my hands not by my choice and I wasn’t planning to become a poisoner for a living.

  I continued to play the ignorant child.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “bīnghuǒdú. Yes, I’ve heard of it. What does Your Majesty want from me?”

  “I hoped you would understand my intentions. But it seems…” she surveyed the room, checking for spies. “It seems that I’ll have to be frank.”

  She tossed a phial at me, and I automatically caught it with my left hand. I glanced at the shimmering contents.

  bīnghuǒdú? No, not the bīnghuǒdú. It was inferior quality, only a tier-two product. Harmful. If taken in a sufficient dose, possibly deadly. But not immortal-killing worthy.

  The Empress monitored my reaction for a brief moment, but I gave her nothing. Acting ran through my blood; it was the only reason that my family were still alive.

  She lowered her eyes. “I found this on my floor after I had a certain guest from Shuishang.”

  A guest from Shuishang? That was bad news. I gently placed the phial on the table, “And you assume my hand was in it?”

  She let out a cold laugh. “If you were truly involved, I’m guessing that I wouldn't be here. But I do wonder,” the Empress flicked her fan open, “where did the bīnghuǒdú come from?”

  I gave no expression. I knew exactly what she thought. It didn’t matter if I told the truth that I didn’t make bīnghuǒdú; as far as she was concerned, I had made it, and she wanted in on the action.

  Perhaps if I answered satisfactorily I could tease out more of her plan. “Your Majesty wants me to make bīnghuǒdú.”

  “You truly are an intellect,” she replied mockingly.

  I inclined my head. She had a card up her sleeve, I was sure of it. But until I knew what it was, I feared her wrath. The best I could play was the ignorant card.

  “You Majesty, I cannot comply. The last time bīnghuǒdú was created was by my deceased mother. I don’t know how to make it.”

  She snapped. I was already treading on thin ice, but my last word had brought her to her final straw. I sensed a large amount of qi being drawn toward her as she seethed with fury.

  “Do not mess with me child.”

  It was absurd to think that I was the messing with her. My mother had paid the painful price of extracting ourselves from the clutches of Taishan’s complicated family dispute. We had avoided and avoided and avoided, doing nothing to stir trouble.

  Yet the pot had been stirred. It was silly to believe that sitting on a cold stove was the safest place. It was only a matter of time before someone lit the flames.

  The sound battered my ears before my brain registered.

  hēihuī (黑灰) was a god-tier ability that only the Phoenix bloodline possessed. Heat rose in the small confines of my clinic as the force choked the oxygen from the air. For once, the technique lived up to its name. I would never have imagined that she had it in her to kill me before a negotiation; then again, how else was she meant to respond?

  I funnelled my qi into the tip of my right index finger and wrote the characters yǎnhù (掩護) in the air, before swiping right. hēihuī immediately scattered, filling the room with a gust of wind.

  The Empress stood back. But the brief confusion wiped off her face as she prepared another.

  “Do not waste your energy, Your Majesty,” I said.

  It was a powerful technique, but it had little effect on me. I was trained solely in defensive techniques; not even a deity using the national techniques of all the provinces could break my qi shield.

  Even so, her fire lived up to its name.

  She leaned back and tamed her flames.

  “If you don't cooperate, I have lots of other fun ways.”

  I placed my hands behind my back hoping I didn’t have to resort to this next step. That was the one thing my mother always scolded me about. I wasn’t heartless enough to claim my rights.

  I loved to avoid conflict. But today...

  I steeled myself for what I had to say. “Your Majesty, it seems that you have forgotten.”

  She pinched her blood-red lips together.

  I continued, “You owe my bloodline a debt. Until it is paid, you can't lay a finger on me.”

  Her lips became ashen. Her eyes burned like flames, ignited by a single thought. “I owe you nothing.”

  Walking toward the table, I tied the ribbon bow back together. “If you wanted to, you could interrogate me until my death. However,” I lowered my voice, “you can’t. And you know it.”

  Empress Huangmei clenched her fists. She detested owing anyone—an instinct so deep it might as well have been part of her bone structure. One of her first imperial decrees had been to execute anyone who had known her before her ascension, families included. A clean slate, written in blood. It was how she built her reputation.

  If not for my mother’s caution and foresight, we would have joined the pile of corpses beneath her throne.

  That day, when the Empress came begging for help, and my mother named her price without hesitation, I remember feeling…conflicted. We were healers. And healers were meant to serve. But my mother had long since stopped believing in mercy. She said sentimentality got people killed. She said a cold heart made it easier to do what had to be done.

  I could never. That was how it always was.

  She would make poisons, and I would make medicine.

  I would never allow myself to make bīnghuǒdú for the Empress. It was a mistake that should never be repeated.

  She gave a forced smile. “I will leave first then.”

  “Take your gifts back, Your Majesty.”

  Sui Baolan turned to face me. “I’m sure you understand, An Lingqi. I don't like loose ends. You will make the right decision.”

  I bowed. “Your Majesty, please escort yourself out.”

  The Empress silently walked toward the door. “When on a tiger’s back, it is hard to dismount.”

  “But who is on the tiger’s back?” I answered in response.

  She glanced over her shoulder before turning into a phoenix. A trail of flames lit up the sky as she flew away.

  ***

  I stared at the drawer. Nothingness stared back at me. Sticking my hand into the drawer, I fumbled around.

  It was gone. The monkshood.

  An image of Ze Zhiwei’s burns came mind. Those intricate poison marks that lined his arms. Memories hit me like bricks.

  He had asked about monkshood.

  He had lied to me when I returned with his bandages.

  The Empress specifically mentioned a guest from Shuishang.

  And now, she had interrogated me about bīnghuǒdú.

  I didn’t think he was brave enough to make it.