No, it’s not similar, Wang Jun thought. He inspected it more closely. It’s identical. He forced this thought away and called out the seven urns.
Wang Jun formed swift hand seals and coughed up a mouthful of black blood. Another lock of his golden hair faded to white as another bit of his lifespan poured into the blood, but he didn’t care. The betrayal he’d felt with the Patriarch had cut him deeply, and the loss of lifespan barely meant anything in comparison. So he split the lifeblood into seven portions and splashed it onto the urns. Then he summoned the seven formations he’d given the headmistress earlier. Had he known they’d be dealing with karmic tracking, he’d have made them stronger or refused the favor. Still, there was no sense regretting.
The aura on the urns faded rapidly as he cycled his shadow and fate qi to reinforce the formations. Whether it was due to lack of caring or dire need, he withdrew his senses and completely focused on the darkness. His life was in the headmistress’s hands. It was risky, but death would be a sweet mercy.
Hong Xin danced a furious dance. She was ice and flame incarnate. Twin phoenixes, both red and blue, danced around her as she twirled with her fans, blocking out the blades and daggers from the specters. Chains of red metal assaulted her impromptu barrier; ice and fire barely repelled them.
Though she was bitter that he hadn’t consulted her, she sensed pain in Wang Jun’s heart unlike anything she’d ever felt before. She sensed betrayal, hurt, and heartache. The man she loved was on the verge of breaking; he was a shattered vase barely held together by cheap mortal glue.
Unfortunately, she could do nothing about that while they were still under attack. So, she danced. Forests of ice shards emerged around her, and blazing fruits grew inside it. They burst on contact with the specters, slaying some while scorching others. Another awl flew toward the stationary Wang Jun, and she summoned a wall of ice, trapping the awl in the process. The specter tugged, and the wall was yanked free.
She dove toward Wang Jun and flapped her fans, sending a sea of flames to repel a half dozen foes. Many shrieked, but two stronger assassins managed to evade the flames. They dove in for the kill. If she dodged, Wang Jun would die. That was something she couldn’t live with, so she readied her fans and faced them. She would defend him or die trying.
Almost there, Wang Jun thought as he finished the last few weaves of shadow and fate. The formations hummed to life, and the urns were hidden. He remembered the battle and stood up from his seated position. As his awareness expanded, he noticed two specters stabbing toward the headmistress. He formed rapid hand seals, and the shadows around him shot out to impale them. The two specters disappeared, and their weapons and cloaks clattered to the ground. He looked at the headmistress and noticed something pooling beneath her. Blood.
His eyes narrowed as he spotted the two weapons lodged in her abdomen. He swept out his cloak and wreathed the area in darkness. Now that the karmic links were broken, they completely disappeared from the specters’ sights. Wang Jun took out an emergency potion and poured it around the headmistress’s wounds before feeding her a pill. Then he pulled out both swords in her abdomen. She gasped and cried out in pain as they cut her on the way out.
Fortunately, the healing potion was a good one. The wound closed and halted any further bleeding. Still, she wasn’t out of the woods yet. He picked up her small body and entered the shadow plane, linking their current location with the shadows outside the Red Dust Pavilion. He ran through the door of the perpetually open establishment, maintaining the cloak of shadows as he walked. He didn’t move to avoid the customers but used his qi to force them away, leaving them confused and unsure of what was happening.
After entering the main reception hall, he spotted a familiar figure who was trying her best to remain composed.
“Mistress Bai Ling,” Wang Jun said, his voice hidden.
She looked around, wondering what was happening.
“Head to the hallway behind you and wait for me. Your headmistress is dying.”
She jumped at that and obediently made her way over. The moment she entered the hallway, Wang Jun dragged her into their concealing shadows. She yelped when she saw the headmistress’s wounded body.
“Lead the way to her bedchambers and call over a spirit doctor. She requires immediate medical attention.”
Bai Ling bit her lips and nodded. She led Wang Jun down familiar corridors, and just before reaching the chambers he usually visited, they stopped by another set of doors.
“Place her on the bed,” Bai Ling said. “I’ll need to heal her personally. She doesn’t allow anyone but me or a few select mistresses to touch her body.” She then looked to the door. He looked to it as well and realized he was being a bit rude.
“I’ll wait outside,” he said, coughing lightly. Though his robes were covered in her blood, seeing her naked body was a bit improper. Minutes crawled by as he sensed familiar surges of water qi and smelled faint medicinal ingredients. After some time, Bai Ling walked out of the room looking pale as a sheet.
“I’ll send servants to fetch clothes and cleaning water. You’re welcome to stay until the headmistress recovers, as she’s in no position to see anyone.”
“Of course,” Wang Jun said, smiling. “I was about to return home in any case.”
“Invite him in,” a voice suddenly said. The voice seemed familiar, but Wang Jun couldn’t put his finger on it.
Bai Ling looked back toward the room, then to Wang Jun. “Don’t try anything funny, or I’ll stab you
