Chapter 27#

Tianshou (2) (Corrections)#

Fearing something had happened to Zhu Ye, Jin Yin rushed into the Celestial Bureau in three quick strides.

Inside the Celestial Bureau, besides the Grand Shaman and Zhu Ye, there were several young shamans clad in grey-white hooded cloaks, their faces flushed red with alarm.

Upon seeing Jin Yin, Zhu Ye was delighted and opened her arms to embrace him. Jin Yin instinctively recalled how Yue Lianlou would always get handsy upon seeing him, and swiftly sidestepped.

The Grand Shaman was still bellowing from inside the tower: “Get her out of here!”

The young shamans drew closer, yet none dared approach. Because of the cold, Zhu Ye wore an outer robe over her. Beneath the robe was a delicate multicolored garment fastened with golden hooks and silver clasps. After entering the Celestial Bureau, she had removed the outer robe, letting her golden hair cascade freely. She stood there alertly now, and as the shamans neared, she flashed them a sweet smile. The multicolored garment outlined her slender figure clearly, the front half open, revealing honey-toned breasts. The shamans turned crimson, glancing left and right, unsure of what to do.

The Grand Shaman’s face had gone livid with fury. Helan Feng strode forward quickly. “Grand Shaman, I am a command soldier of the Prince of Yunzhou.” He produced his token and let the Grand Shaman verify his identity.

The Grand Shaman grabbed him. “I recognize you… Get this woman out of here immediately!”

“Grand Shaman, this is the Gaoxin music courtesan invited by the Heavenly Sovereign,” Helan Feng said in a low voice. “The Heavenly Sovereign and the Heavenly Empress are both looking forward to her Gaoxin melodies. We cannot afford any delay.”

Invoking the name of the Beirong Heavenly Sovereign, the Grand Shaman could not unleash his fury and, seething, dug his nails into Helan Feng’s arm. “How can a woman enter the Celestial Bureau! Women are unclean! If a woman is active within the Celestial Bureau, how can the Celestial Bureau ever—cough cough—I know this must be the Prince of Yunzhou’s doing. He doesn’t believe in gods, he doesn’t believe in shamans, he will destroy Bei—”

Helan Feng gave the Grand Shaman a firm slap on the shoulder. “Grand Shaman.”

The Grand Shaman fell silent at once. Helan Feng noticed that the old man still had not risen and looked down, only then discovering that the Grand Shaman’s ankle was bruised and swollen beneath its withered skin—he had twisted it. Upon careful inquiry, it turned out that moments ago, when Zhu Ye and the Yunzhou Prince’s command soldier who had brought her arrived at the gates of the Celestial Bureau and knocked, the Grand Shaman had rushed down in shock and fury from the room atop the tower and had taken a fall.

Helan Feng looked around but could not see the command soldier anywhere, and knew the man must have fled in fear of the Grand Shaman’s temper. In the hearts of most Beirong people, the question of whether the Heavenly Sovereign or the Grand Shaman held higher authority was a difficult one to answer. No one needed to offend the Grand Shaman over a Gaoxin music courtesan.

Helan Feng helped the Grand Shaman to his feet and, learning he lived south of the city, offered to escort him home. The Grand Shaman pointed at Zhu Ye, panting. Helan Feng hastily said, “Miss Zhu Ye’s ‘purification’ can be completed by the other shamans. Grand Shaman, your injury cannot wait. I’ll take you home right now.” As he spoke, he bent down and forcibly lifted the Grand Shaman onto his back, striding out of the Celestial Bureau.

Jin Yin stood in a daze. Helan Feng mouthed a silent phrase to him: Wait for me to come get you. The gates of the Celestial Bureau closed behind Helan Feng. Jin Yin looked back at Zhu Ye and the remaining shamans.

“The Prince of Yunzhou mentioned that an honored guest would be visiting the Celestial Bureau tonight to watch the fire dragon.” A shaman led him aside with a respectful attitude. “Please wait a moment.”

Jin Yin obediently sat down and straightened his clothing. Before bringing him out of the house, Helan Feng had made him change into a set of Dayu garments. He looked neat and refined—fitting for an “honored guest.” General Hu’s residence had originally been built for the Dayu princess consort, and inside were many Dayu garments. The styles were somewhat outdated but well-suited to Jin Yin’s frame. Jin Yin also noticed that it wasn’t only Helan Feng who had grown taller—he himself had grown as well.

He sat in the Celestial Bureau, overhead filled with lanterns and candles. Countless small square windows were set into the tower walls. Outside the tower, the fire dragon, the lamplight, and the night poured in one by one through them.

Just as on the day he had undergone his own “purification,” Zhu Ye knelt in the center of the tower. A shaman held clear water in the left hand and a staff in the right, dancing and leaping. Zhu Ye gazed calmly forward, her eyes devoid of emotion. Only when the shaman finished singing and dancing did she turn her head slightly and flash a smile at Jin Yin.

Jin Yin couldn’t help but smile back at her, his face flushing warm, thinking that anyone who said Zhu Ye wasn’t beautiful must be blind.

The ceremony ended, but Zhu Ye could not leave the Celestial Bureau. She needed to wait here for the Yunzhou Prince’s command soldier to summon her. The young shamans huddled together in a corner, occasionally sneaking glances at her. Zhu Ye carried her instrument over and sat down beside Jin Yin, her fingers lightly plucking the strings.

“I know you’re Yue Lianlou’s friend,” Zhu Ye said softly. “Yue Lianlou once borrowed a wind-deer from me, saying he was going to the Yetai tribe to find someone. Was it you?”

That truly was her deer. Jin Yin found Zhu Ye all the more mysterious. “He even told you that?”

Zhu Ye leaned very close to him. The lamplight scattered into tiny stars within her luminous green eyes. Her eyes were different from the Helan family’s—perhaps because she carried no Han bloodline, they were actually blue-green, with only the pupils holding a thread of deep emerald, nearly black.

“We talk a great deal,” she said, her speech lilting like song. “He’s a charming person.”

Zhu Ye sang softly while plucking her strings. The instrument in her hands resembled a konghou, though smaller, shaped like a crescent moon. She first sang “The Jade Tower Lies Empty,” then followed with a piece of “Trimming the Silver Lamp”—back and forth, all the scented lyrics and languid tunes of pleasure quarters and singing houses. The shamans of the Celestial Bureau couldn’t quite understand the Dayu language, but they could feel the strings setting their hearts at a soft,酥 ease. These were not proper things.

These two songs were famous verses from the Ji’er Lane in Liang Capital. Jin Yin listened in a haze of half-comprehension when Zhu Ye suddenly laughed and asked, “You’ve never been to those places, have you?”

“Those places?” said Jin Yin.

“The kind where you look at girls and touch girls.” Zhu Ye thought for a moment. “I’ve heard Liang Capital also has pretty young boys—singing, playing, dancing, all of them skilled. Their craft at serving men surpasses even women’s. Have you ever tried?”

Jin Yin waved his hands in a panic. “N-no… I haven’t! I’ve never been!”

His shyness made Zhu Ye laugh even harder. Her fingers flicked across the strings and a cascade of unfamiliar notes sprang forth. Zhu Ye sang in an alien tongue, and Jin Yin understood almost instantly—it was a Gaoxin song.

It was an ancient melody passed among the Gaoxin people. A expedition that set out from the distant east to seek a treasure, cutting through thorns and thorns, arrived at last at Blood Wolf Mountain. The people were awed by the mountain’s spectacular scene of blazing red and decided to make camp and settle there.

This was the origin of the Gaoxin people. At Blood Wolf Mountain they found their footing, bore children, and multiplied.

In the song there was the Gaoxin king who shot the moon, the Gaoxin goddess who tempered new stars with the never-extinguishing flames of Blood Wolf Mountain, the Gaoxin people who were accustomed to silence, accustomed to suffering but unaccustomed to bowing their heads—an ancient and distant melody, like a long, eternal sigh.

Zhu Ye playing and singing made Jin Yin almost believe he had fallen in love with her. After finishing the song, she explained its meaning to him. Jin Yin stared at her blankly and blurted out, “…Why isn’t Helan Jinying your Lema?”

“Whether someone is your Lema is up to the will of the gods,” Zhu Ye said with a smile. “When a Lema appears, a person knows it. Just like on a bright white day when a bolt of lightning suddenly strikes. It startles you, you can’t control your heart—your heart has been seized by someone, and from that moment on you are held firmly in that person’s grip.”

She spoke more and more slowly, more and more softly. Jin Yin’s eyes drifted shut, and he leaned against Zhu Ye’s shoulder, falling into deep sleep.

Countless wooden viewing towers had been erected along the southern wall of the royal city. Only the wealthy of the Northern Capital could afford a position in one—such as Hundar. He bought one, but after sitting up there for only a short while, he spotted the colorful silks of the Huixin Courtyard in the distance. He surrendered the tower to Zhuozhuo, and without a backward glance, he and Duze dashed toward the Huixin Courtyard.

The wall was packed with people, bustling with liveliness. As far as the eye could see, every face wore a vivid expression. Balongge’er said he was going to buy food, but Ruan Buqi knew he didn’t want to entertain children and had already slipped away. Carrying Zhuozhuo, she climbed the wooden tower and set the girl on her lap. Only now did she finally relax. The tower offered an excellent vantage point—the enormous fire dragon and the city’s sea of lights were visible, along with countless food stalls along the wall. She rubbed her ears.

Zhuozhuo had been hoarding honeyed fruits, sugar cakes, and fried pastries in her arms and now laid them out one by one on the tower’s small table, sharing them with Ruan Buqi.

“No one here can hear you talking,” Zhuozhuo whispered. “Can you tell me the story now?”

Ruan Buqi gave a perfunctory murmur of agreement. From this position on the wooden tower, the Everburning Flame atop the royal city’s tall tower was clearly visible. Heat surged into the dragon god, the great serpent swaying slowly, its head pointed due south.

She suddenly patted Zhuozhuo’s head and had her look toward the Everburning Flame.

“How come the Everburning Flame is burning so big today?” Ruan Buqi squinted. “Am I seeing things?”

Jin Yin was woken by Chen Shuang.

The great doors of the Celestial Bureau had been locked from the inside. Chen Shuang had crawled in through a small window high up in the tower and was slapping at Jin Yin’s face. Jin Yin rubbed his eyes. Chen Shuang’s hands were ice-cold as they pressed against his cheeks, and he woke up instantly.

“Something’s wrong with Zhu Ye,” Chen Shuang said. “Even the shamans have fallen asleep.”

The great doors of the Celestial Bureau were locked tight. Jin Yin discovered that Zhu Ye was nowhere beside him, and neither was her instrument. Both sensed something was amiss. They glanced around and simultaneously looked up. Zhu Ye had not left the Celestial Bureau—she had gone upward.

The stone staircase spiraled upward. Jin Yin ran until he was gasping for breath. Chen Shuang reached the top first and pointed above. “I heard her. That woman is up there.”

Before them lay the end of the spiral staircase—a semi-enclosed space with a ceiling of blue-grey stone. Only a single empty square window was set in the wall beside them. Jin Yin approached the window and found it too narrow; only someone like Chen Shuang, whose bone-compression technique was unmatched, could squeeze through.

Above them roared the Everburning Flame, but Jin Yin had no way to climb any higher.

Jin Yin saw through the window an enormous fire dragon slowly swaying its body. The dragon’s tail was tethered above the Everburning Flame, driven by the hot air from its combustion. At this close distance, Jin Yin could see the mirror-polished copper plates on the dragon’s surface. The north wind still blew at night, pushing the dragon’s head southward, pointing directly at the southern part of the royal city.

Both Jin Yin and Chen Shuang heard an unusual metallic scraping from above. Chen Shuang asked silently: Shall I go out and look?

But Jin Yin immediately grabbed him, a sharp wave of unease sweeping through him. Zhu Ye had been able to squeeze through this small window, climb to the Everburning Flame—her skills were not to be underestimated.

In that instant of hesitation, they both heard the sound of an arrow leaving its string.

A single arrow, its tip fitted with a blazing ball of oil-soaked material, pierced through the fire dragon from tail to head at breakneck speed, screaming through the dragon’s body and piercing clean through its head.

The fire dragon became a true fire dragon! The paper body ignited instantly, but because it had been pasted so firmly, it didn’t burn through at once. The blazing giant dragon writhed in agony over the Northern Capital’s skies. The tail finally burned off, and the north wind carried the massive fireball drifting and floating until it fell upon the southern city.

Terrified screams erupted from the south. The flames hit the ground and ignited everything at once—crying, running, scattering sparks of fire rippling outward in all directions.

Jin Yin’s heart clenched with terror: tonight the southern city was the most crowded place. Helan Feng, Zhuozhuo, Ruan Buqi—everyone was there!

“Chen Shuang, stay here. Don’t let Zhu Ye get away!” Jin Yin dashed wildly down the staircase.

But Chen Shuang immediately followed. “I have to protect you.”

The two stripped cloaks from the unconscious shamans, wrapped them around themselves, and unlocked the great doors. The royal city was in chaos. They pulled up their hoods, disguised as shamans, and jogged to the foot of the city wall. Chen Shuang’s qinggong was exceptional. With Jin Yin on his back, he scaled the city wall like a monkey, and the two of them left the royal city.

Jin Yin couldn’t help but glance back toward the heights of the Celestial Bureau. The Everburning Flame blazed furiously, as if someone had poured accelerant into it—the flames soared dozens of feet high. A woman in multicolored garments stood atop the tower. Her Gaoxin instrument, shaped like a konghou, had been disassembled and reassembled into a massive bow of dark gold.

The night wind lifted Zhu Ye’s golden hair. She stood perfectly still. Jin Yin suddenly recalled that ancient Gaoxin ballad: The goddess drove the never-extinguishing flames to burn the grasslands. The grasslands became a sea of fire, and the goddess tempered new stars.

The moment his feet touched the ground, Jin Yin broke into a dead sprint. The Northern Capital’s buildings were low and scattered—not suitable for traveling fast with Chen Shuang carrying him. He cut through streets and alleys, when suddenly he spotted two saddled horses standing at an intersection, grazing.

Jin Yin felt at his waist—the small knife Helan Feng had gifted him, which he always carried. He used it to sever the tethering ropes, swung onto one horse’s back, and Chen Shuang immediately stole the other right behind him. The owners discovered the theft and came cursing in pursuit. By the time Chen Shuang finally shook them off, Jin Yin had already vanished from sight.

On the main streets of the Northern Capital, a youth in Dayu garments was galloping wildly on horseback.

The streets were full of people fleeing in every direction. At the end of the long avenue, barricades blocked the way—not ideal for riding. But Jin Yin gripped the reins tight, his speed undiminished. The horse obeyed his commands completely, running, turning, leaping with a fluidity that made it seem as though Jin Yin was the master it truly acknowledged.

The closer he got to the southern city, the worse the destruction became. The fire dragon had shed many burning fragments as it fell from the Celestial Bureau into the south. To welcome spring, the people of the Northern Capital had laid fresh dry grass on their rooftops, and stone houses were fitted with wooden scaffolding for the new year’s renovations. All of it burned far too easily. Small fires ignited greater ones, and Jin Yin felt as though he was threading through a landscape of screams and flame.

Passing the rear courtyard of the Huixin Courtyard, Jin Yin suddenly spotted Hundar and Duze. The two burst out from the small building, heads covered. The area outside the Huixin Courtyard was also ablaze.

“Hundar! Duze!” Jin Yin reined in. “Have you seen Helan Feng?”

“N-no…” Hundar gasped. “You can ride?!”

“What about Zhuozhuo and Ruan Buqi?”

“They were on the city wall watching the dragon…” Duze pointed toward the wall, his face draining of color. The southern wall, once packed with people, had become a sea of fire. Countless dark figures writhed within the flames, screaming.

Hundar cursed and ran toward the southern wall. Duze stood frozen. Hundar bellowed, “Go find Zhuozhuo!”

The two cut through back routes toward the southern wall, fighting against the tide of fleeing people. In another direction, Jin Yin once again leapt his horse over the heads of the crowd. The horse screamed as its hooves crashed through a stretch of wooden scaffolding, landing on the second story of a stone house.

Hundar’s face went rigid. “He can ride a horse?! Damn Dayu liar! He rides better than me!”

Jin Yin spotted a stone house in the distance bearing the shaman’s mark—it was the Grand Shaman’s residence. But he couldn’t get close. The southern city had become a sea of fire, the streets and alleys in total chaos. People in fine silver-scale armor hurried past, directing firefighting efforts.

“Helan Feng!”

No one answered. His voice was swallowed by the roar of the inferno. Jin Yin looked around and spotted a barrel of half-frozen water nearby, much of it melted by the heat. He hefted the barrel and doused himself from head to foot, then leaped down from the second story and, wrapped in his hooded cloak, sprinted toward the Grand Shaman’s house.