“You don’t have to, you know,” Bai Ling said. “The pavilion could burn, and no one would blame you for it.”
“There’s a war brewing,” Hong Xin said. “Angels and devils are fighting, and everyone must choose a side. These things with the Spirit Temple are just the tip of the iceberg. Besides, where else can I go?” She’d burned far too many bridges to go home.
The two women in red made their way to the audience hall. Hong Xin bypassed the tall chair at the back and walked toward a tea table where a guest in green robes was waiting. She immediately recognized the man with long blond-and-white hair. He looked toward them when they entered the room. No, toward her. Her heart skipped a beat, but she regulated her emotions and simply smiled softly as she walked at a slow but comfortable pace. She sat on one of the red cushions facing Wang Jun while Bai Ling kneeled beside them and served tea.
“I still can’t get over the familiar feeling I experience whenever I see you,” Wang Jun said, accepting the cup that Bai Ling poured. He took a quick sip but didn’t comment on the blend or quality as he usually did. A cough from Bai Ling reminded her that he’d asked an implicit question.
“We’ve never met,” Hong Xin said sweetly in her disguised voice. “Truth be told, I disguise myself with glamour arts. Anyone I meet will experience that same feeling.” It was a half truth.
Wang Jun chuckled. “I’d guessed as much. My time is precious, but a single conversation with you is unbearably expensive. My curiosity is piqued. What can I do for you today, Headmistress? I take it your business today is much more important than the usual information we purchase?”
“Yes, it’s something of a delicate nature,” Hong Xin said.
They accepted a second round of tea from Bai Ling, and this time she saw Wang Jun savor it. A good sign. She observed his state of mind, his behavior, and his heart before asking the most important question. “What do you know of the Spirit Temple?”
Anger. Curiosity. Want. Need. The tells that accompanied these emotions flickered briefly before immediately being suppressed. If there’s anger, I can work with that, she thought. She urged his feelings along, kindling them into something greater.
Then, to her surprise, the feelings vanished. Her kindling powers had nothing to latch on to. He showed no surprise or indignation at her actions, however, and she wondered if it was his self-control that was impressive, or if he could just fight off her powers instinctually.
This might be difficult, she thought. I’ll have to change tactics.
“I know they run a few businesses,” Wang Jun said after drinking another sip. “Their first one is communion with the dead, an ever-popular sham they milk for all its worth. The expense of such a task is naturally proportional to one’s ability to pay.”
“That’s the official business,” Hong Xin said. “Along with information-gathering services.”
Wang Jun nodded. “Spirits make very good spies. Very few people can detect their intrusion, and it’s also a very good lead-in for their third business.”
“Assassination,” Hong Xin said. “Legal, but barely so.”
“No one wants to confront an assassin organization that could kill half the court in less than a day,” Wang Jun said. He took another sip.
“You hate them,” Hong Xin said. “There’s something about them that makes your blood boil.”
Wang Jun gave her a surprised look. “Close, but not on the mark.”
Truth.
“They’re just a business like any other. As a man who sells weapons, who am I to judge them?”
Also truth.
“It’s just that their hidden fourth business makes me sick to my stomach.”
“You lie,” Hong Xin said. Inwardly, she was greatly disappointed. It seemed she’d overestimated Wang Jun’s moral compass.
“You’re right,” Wang Jun said. “I’m not a good person. I care about only two things in life—my friends and my family.”
Lie.
“Your knowledge of their fourth trade makes this much easier,” Hong Xin said.
Wang Jun shrugged. “The soul trade doesn’t especially bother me in and of itself.”
Lie. The soul trade might not make him sick, but it still bothered him.
“I’m more concerned about the people they’re dealing with.”
Truth. That was interesting.
“Well, the soul trade bothers me as well,” Hong Xin said. “Both on a personal level and for the same reasons you mentioned. I’d prefer if you didn’t speak of what I’m about to tell you after you leave.”
“My lips are sealed,” Wang Jun said. “Though I expect the same professional courtesy.”
Hong Xin nodded. “Many of our ex-members were employed by the Spirit Temple—rogue members that split from the Red Dust Pavilion after I took over. Our rogue members have aligned themselves with various entities since the split, of course. They’ve engaged in many unsavory activities. But trading souls is where I draw the line—it’s unacceptable and immoral.”
“Ah,” Wang Jun said. “An idealist. I never thought the mysterious headmistress of the Red Dust Pavilion would be an idealist. I’m sure this has nothing to do with the very incriminating nature of their behavior and the threat their involvement with the Spirit Temple poses to your establishment, your members, and yourself.”
“Motives aside, I require your services,” Hong Xin said. “This service has to do with the Spirit Temple and its soul trade. Are you willing to discuss further?”
“I’m all ears,” Wang Jun said.
“Excellent,” Hong Xin said. “I’ve just told you that we had rogue members working for the Spirit Temple in the past, but they don’t anymore. They disappeared overnight, and it was our doing.”
Wang Jun shrugged. “Ethically dubious, but what’s your point?”
“They’re still alive,” Hong Xin said. “But they won’t speak or spill any secrets on the Spirit Temple. They’ve been possessed by contract enforcement specters, and the moment they utter anything incriminating, the specter devours their souls, killing their hosts.”
“Vicious,” Wang Jun said. “I’ve heard of such things before. The possessed must avoid exorcists at
