Hong Xin looked to the two others, who avoided her gaze. “You both feel the same way?”
Ji Bingxue nodded sheepishly.
Mistress Huang, on the other hand, shrugged.
“I don’t see why both can’t coincide,” Mistress Huang said. “If the man is worth your attention, it’s very likely that he’ll be fighting against some very bad people. The Red Dust Pavilion tends to align with those very bad people. Or, at least, the members we’re after tended to.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Hong Xin said. “I promise, rescuing our members is my top priority, but there’s bound to be some overlap.”
Bai Ling sighed. “Good enough.” She slapped her thighs twice, stood up, and stretched. “There’s a lot of work to be done, and very little time to do it. Are you both free for the next hour?” The two women nodded. They followed Bai Ling, leaving Hong Xin alone in the room.
A few minutes passed before Hong Xin composed herself and brewed tea for two. A red-clothed woman appeared in a puff of red dust. “I take it you heard everything, Sister Yinyue?”
The powerful transcendent woman took her small glass teacup and sipped. “Though I don’t dare probe the entire city recklessly, there’s not much in the pavilion that escapes my notice.”
Hong Xin nodded. “What can you tell me about this city?”
“Very little,” Hong Yinyue said. “As a transcendent, my every action is under much scrutiny. There are five others in this city: a powerful angel within the Alabaster Group, the grand elder of the Wang family, the chief informer of the Greenwind Pavilion, and the shepherd of the Spirit Temple. Oh, and the vice chancellor of the Church of Justice. None of these people will interfere in the affairs of mortals unless it serves a strategic purpose.
“As for other matters, I can’t tell you much. Our former members were mostly lent out to noble houses and to the Spirit Temple. A quarter of our members have historically been assigned to the Spirit Temple to facilitate their… unwholesome activities.”
“Do I want to know?” Hong Xin asked.
“You don’t, but you’ll find out soon enough,” Hong Yinyue said. She didn’t speak further on the matter.
“It seems we’ll have trouble reclaiming our stray members,” Hong Xin said. “Not only will they want to avoid us for fear of being oathbound, but their employers won’t want them to leave.”
Hong Yinyue shrugged. “It’s not like you’re forced to use the stick. Given a sufficiently large carrot, a rabbit will be willing to run through a pack of wolves.”
“That’s true,” Hong Xin said. “Besides, now that they have new employers, I don’t need to deal with them directly. I can just entice them, and they’ll send them back, won’t they?”
“And how are you planning on doing that?” Hong Yinyue asked. “I’m sure those courtesans have told their employers about the threat you pose to them.”
“But I happen to have a very large carrot,” Hong Xin said, summoning both ice and flame in the palm of her hand. They executed a captivating, heart-throbbing dance. It wasn’t enough to affect the transcendent being before her, but it was enough to get her point across.
“Kindling,” Hong Yinyue said. “You’ll tempt them with the power of kindling.”
“That’s right,” Hong Xin said. “A week from now, we’ll be hosting a free introductory performance. We’ll attract drunks, deadbeats, and lechers, but with them there will be people who’re down on their luck, or who are marginalized for no good reason. People whose cultivations have stagnated, and others who just need a little encouragement.”
“Many won’t be very happy with your meddling,” Hong Yinyue cautioned.
“That’s good,” Hong Xin said. “With any luck, they’ll send some of our stray sisters back to appease me. I could always use a few more helping hands.”
Chapter 7: Marginalized
A violet staff came whooshing out of nowhere, leaving behind a stream of air as it hurled toward Cha Ming’s face. He slapped it away with practiced ease, using nothing but his bare hands to do so. The floor lit up with a violet formation, which he immediately recognized as an early-grade illusory formation. He immediately sent a combat formation of equivalent grade bearing down on it, like a lock in a keyhole. To his surprise, it opened, revealing a gaping maw of death and destruction.
An illusion, he thought. It was difficult to know whether anything was real or imaginary when sparring with Zi Long. Especially when he used his trademark violet qi and heart force. Unlike with most people, his soul was cloaked in mystery. Furthermore, according to Sun Wukong, a holy spirit had taken residence in his disciple’s spiritual sea. It was a good thing, so Cha Ming hadn’t mentioned it. He simply took the disadvantage in stride and used it to hone his own skills.
The maw began shutting on Cha Ming’s foot. He quickly coated it in a halo of golden runes. His impromptu armor groaned as the apparition bit down, threatening to burst at any moment.
It’ll hold, Cha Ming thought decisively. The most important thing he’d learned when dealing with illusions was that belief was power; a single doubt would amplify his opponent’s techniques manifold. While his foot remained stationary, Cha Ming summoned a least-grade formation.
Hundreds of characters joined in formation and fluttered around the room like burning eagles. They seared the invisible formation webs Zi Long had cleverly hidden in the room, neutralizing his inevitable counterattack. Then they congregated around an ethereal shape bearing down on him. Cha Ming twirled his staff in a defensive circle of creation, a move that proved wise. Zi Long, who was only twenty feet away, burst into five avatars, one for each of the five elements. Each one possessed most of Zi Long’s original strength, albeit only in a single element.
Cha Ming jerked his leg free from the fading jaws and danced between the apparitions. His staff was a blur as he used nothing more than initial-core formation and initial-marrow-refining powers to face off
