Wang Jun gave no answer.
“I said, do you understand?”
Seeing Patriarch Wuling take out his dagger and walk back toward Hong Xin, Wang Jun could only close his eyes and speak the words: “I understand.”
The Patriarch paused, then looked up and laughed exultantly. “Heavens above, he sees sense. He finally sees sense.”
“I thought I’d grown callous and merciless,” Wang Jun said, his voice lacking emotion. “I thought I’d rid myself of my weak heart, all in order to succeed and obtain vengeance. But it seems I was looking in the wrong place. It wasn’t my soft heart that was my weakness but my ambition. I wanted to see you all suffer, but because of that, I endangered her. I should have killed the lot of you when I had a chance.”
“All past matters,” Patriarch Wuling said. “As your first order of business, you are to personally head to the Spirit Temple—sneak in, of course—and apologize. You are to accept responsibility for your actions, but you must swear upon your soul that you’ll make things right with them.”
“You aren’t just playing both sides, are you?” Wang Jun asked. “You’re a turncoat, through and through.”
“We do what we can to survive, son,” Patriarch Wuling said. “And trust me, it was this or the death of our family. The South can’t be stopped. Only by joining them can we truly prosper as a family.”
“You’re beyond redemption,” Wang Jun said, stepping back. Despite all the killings, the blackmail, the fabrications, the thought of working for the South to destroy the peaceful North sickened him. He’d done wrong, but this was pure evil.
“We are beyond redemption,” Patriarch Wuling emphasized, stepping up to him until their noses almost touched. He could smell the man’s rancid breath and see the intricate details in the whites of his eyes. “But when you decide you want her dead, that you want to kill her with your own two hands, I’ll be waiting.” He bared his neck. “Though, I doubt you’ll have the courage to take me up on it.”
The Patriarch walked back to Hong Xin, who was still struggling to hold her head up. Her eyes seemed to implore him to kill her, to destroy this madman and be done with it. But all the looks in the world could never convince him to do such a thing. He’d lost her once, and he would never do so again. Hong Xin left the room under Patriarch Wuling’s escort, and soon, elders began to flow into the room to begin their morning sessions. They gave Wang Jun strange glances but didn’t say anything otherwise.
“I have an announcement to make,” Wang Jun said, his voice soft carrying throughout the whole room. The elders stopped their shuffling and looked at him. “From now on, I relinquish my claim to the family leadership in favor of Wang Ling. He has my full support, and I look forward to working with him from this day forward.”
Half the elders frowned in concern, but the other half smiled. Their mutters masked his silent steps as he left the room, defeated.
Wang Jun made no sounds as he approached the black corridor that no one else could see. He entered its bright confines, barely glancing at the countless doors that led to other locations across the continent. He pushed through the main doors at the back, entering a dark room barely decorated but containing a single dark throne. No one sat there, and no one had been there in quite some time. There was a note on a small table to the side, the one Daoist Obscurus often used to lay fruit on.
Wang Jun picked up the black paper note, reading the even blacker writing intently as he muttered with not a sound. He frowned as he read, and glanced to his shadow, which barely stood out among the black stone floor.
To my dearest apprentice,
I’m sorry not to be there in your time of need, but I needed to step out to do some field research. It’s dreadfully important and can’t wait. While I’m gone, you can practice the techniques I taught you and polish them up. When I return, we’ll prepare for carving your core, as it’s only after you transcend that you’ll be able to learn the best of what I have to offer. I know it’s difficult, but you need to press on. Your soft heart might be a weakness, but it’s also the source of your strength. The best of shadows need light to cast.
As a side note, I thought I’d let you know about an ongoing problem you might have missed. It’s about your shadow. He’s been a bad boy, you see, and I thought I’d let you know about that before he does anything too damaging. Shadow doppelgangers are tricky because they aren’t just intelligent—they’re exactly as intelligent as you are. That means they need extra discipline, else they’ll start doing things on their own.
It shouldn’t be too big a problem. You should be able to take care of it before I’m back. Be sure to water my plants for me while I’m gone.
Cheers,
D.O.
Wang Jun first looked to the plants, which were black, dried up, and didn’t require the slightest bit of water. A bit of his master’s humor, he supposed. Then he looked to his shadow, dread filling him. “What have you done?”
“Things,” the shadow replied.
“What kind of things?” Wang Jun said calmly.
“Things you couldn’t do yourself,” the shadow replied. “Things that I deemed needed doing, as instructed.”
“You hid them from me,” Wang Jun accused.
“Yes,” the shadow said. “For your own good. For our own good.”
“Tell me,” Wang Jun said. “Show me.”
The shadow did just that. Not with words, but with one soft clank after another. Item after item dropped out from the
