“Implicated?” Hong Xin said, frowning. “I take it you mean the split with our former members?”
Mu Feilong chuckled. “If it were only that, we wouldn’t have hesitated. The competing houses that snagged your old members have been doing well, and as the only major houses left without the Red Dust Pavilion’s full services, we’ve been at a bit of a disadvantage. But that’s nothing compared to having the Church of Justice breathing down our necks. Fortunately, that problem has been solved.”
Hong Xin’s frown deepened. “I’m not sure I understand you. The Church of Justice frowns on our activities, yes, but they aren’t illegal. We haven’t done anything worth their attention.”
“You haven’t recently, which is why we’re willing to work with you,” Mu Feilong said. “But the Red Dust Pavilion has committed many crimes in the past.” A blue jade slip appeared in his hand. “Please take a look. Bear in mind that it’s only a copy.”
Hong Xin hesitantly poured her resplendent force into the jade and discovered that it was actually a recording jade. A mistress of the Red Dust Pavilion walked through a small town. People laughed merrily all around her, and she nodded back to those who greeted her.
She did some very mundane things before proceeding to a large living complex. Several guards were posted, and Hong Xin saw several signs warning about a plague. The mistress walked past several sentries until she finally walked into a room filled with horrors.
“How is everything going?” the mistress asked a pale attendant. She ignored the people that lay writhing and moaning on cots in the makeshift dormitory. The few dozen people were chained to their beds, and very few of their limbs had been left intact.
“Number three is ready for extraction,” the pale man said.
The mistress nodded and approached a bed. It contained a shivering old man with tears in his eyes.
“Get away, you monster,” he growled and recoiled as far as his chains would let him.
The mistress smiled. “You’ve suffered long enough. It all ends today.”
The man paused. “Truly?” he asked, his eyes brightening. “You’ll let me die?”
“Of course,” the mistress said. “Offer up your soul, and I’ll let you leave this wretched world behind.”
“I accept!” the man said hastily. “I accept. Please don’t take it back.”
“I won’t,” the mistress said. She took out a small black urn and placed it on the bedside table. Then she summoned a cruel black dagger and placed it against his heart. He moved to impale himself with it, but she held him firmly in place. “Repeat after me. I offer my soul of my own free will to Mistress Ling to do with as she will.”
“I offer my soul of my own free will to Mistress Ling to do with as she will,” the man said, almost panting. “Well? Is that all?”
“That’s all,” Mistress Ling said. She then plunged the dagger into his heart, and to Hong Xin’s surprise, no blood flowed out. A crimson ghost drifted out from his body. As the Yellow River appeared to whisk it away, the soul was quickly sucked up by the urn Mistress Ling had placed beside the bed.
She smiled. “A success. Collecting souls is such hard work.” She took away the urn and turned back to the pale man who had been patiently waiting for her to finish. “When is the next one due?”
“It could be either days or a week,” the man said. “Why don’t we make it a week to be sure?”
“I’ll see you then,” Mistress Ling said. She handed the man a bag full of what Hong Xin presumed were spirit stones and left the building and the village. The recording ended.
“What have you done?” Hong Xin said with gritted teeth.
“It’s not what we’ve done, but what the Red Dust Pavilion has done. The soul trade is a dreadful thing,” Mu Feilong said. “Which is why it’s been outlawed for millennia in the North. The Spirit Temple has historically avoided this trade north of the border to avoid the ire of the Church. They do it in the South instead, though it’s not as efficient there since you need to accumulate a certain amount of resentment to generate ghosts. People have trouble resenting what they’re born into.” He cleared his throat. “In any case, we purchased this from the Greenwind Pavilion and obtained exclusive rights to it.”
“They didn’t give it to the Church?” Hong Xin asked.
“And give away something that could make them a lot of money?” Mu Feilong scoffed. “No, they waited for the right buyer. Now, the Church of Justice won’t get a chance to see it.”
Hong Xin’s eyes narrowed. “Unless you give it to them.”
“We hope it won’t come to that,” Mu Feilong said. “We understand that you need to make a living, but I’m sure you’ll take this into account when we negotiate our contract.”
Hong Xin trembled. She’d dealt with the man for a year and a half, and she’d never felt a hint of animosity. Yet suddenly, he’d betrayed her. No, it wasn’t a betrayal. Betrayal was something you weren’t planning to do since the beginning. She thought Mu Feilong and his ilk simply hadn’t been able to capture free members of the Red Dust Pavilion. It seemed more accurate to say they’d avoided capturing them so they wouldn’t be seen as sheltering monsters if they turned in this information. But disguising their relationship as a client-vendor one, they could insulate themselves from the Red Dust Pavilion.
“This one’s on us,” Mu Feilong said, handing her another jade slip.
She scanned its contents and discovered that it was data and information. Information on various actions of their members with the Spirit Temple, a record of their secondment to the Hall of Souls, and finally, a record of various locations and travel schedules for said members. The schedule was valid for
