“Here it is,” Wang Jun said to no one in particular. “Don’t mind me. I’ll be fine on my own.” The pair of guards he spoke to didn’t hear him. One of them, however, shifted uncomfortably as Wang Jun made his way across the threshold. He took note of the man. Tomorrow, he’d have someone hire him for his own guard. After all, the man would be looking for a new job after tonight.
In the dimly lit house, a family feasted. They ate to their heart’s content as cooks slaved away in the kitchen to make dish after dish for the family of six. Zhen Fa, his mark, stood at the head of the table. He and his two eldest sons drank strong cultivator’s baiju. As was customary, they used small glasses to drink the frighteningly strong drink. It didn’t take them long for red to flow to their cheeks.
The two daughters and their mother drank nothing as they ate away at the dishes. They would likely drink tea after the meal, as many people insisted that tea and food didn’t mix. Instead, they chatted about everyday things, like gossip and the family business. Every member of the household, no matter whether they were weak or strong, young or old, was involved in running it.
Wang Jun didn’t interrupt their merry supper. He didn’t lace any of the incoming dishes with poison, nor did he intercept any of the servants as they took back partially eaten dishes to the servants’ quarters, where the family’s well-treated employees could partake in the luxurious fare. He simply watched and waited, peering into the shadows both past and present, looking for something. It was tiring work, and at one point, he suspected that he was attempting the impossible. But then he reminded himself that his master must know best. He continued to search.
“Three leads,” Wang Jun said. “Three times where he flouted the law, only to eliminate all traces of wrongdoing.”
There had been no need to ask the Greenwind Pavilion for this information. Everyone knew about the fraud, and Zhen Fa had even insinuated his guilt at the many banquets and gatherings he’d attended. Unfortunately for the authorities, no one had any concrete proof of wrongdoing, no smoking talisman or even a starting point for an investigation. Today, Wang Jun would fix that.
Peering into the shadows, he investigated the most recent misdemeanor. Events flashed before his eyes like an ultra-fast record, and each image was covered in countless shadowy strings. He searched for quite some time before confirming, unfortunately, that Zhen Fa wasn’t guilty after all. Surprisingly, he wasn’t responsible for the crime he’d practically admitted to doing.
Undeterred, Wang Jun continued his search. The second set of images, nonsensical to even him, was more jumbled than the first, likely due to the amount of time that had passed. In this case, a moderately wealthy family had accused Zhen Fa of forcefully appropriating assets by confiscating documents and having them retroactively changed. Once again, he found no evidence. The story was apparently a complete fabrication by a rival, one that the Zhen family hadn’t even bothered trying to suppress.
Third time’s the charm, Wang Jun thought. He dove into the final bundle of dark, shadowy strings he’d summoned. This time, he found what he was looking for. It was a simple letter, but the letter was particularly damning. It was a written request to the Spirit Temple for an assassination. Normally, this wouldn’t have been a big deal, but in this case, the request was to assassinate the head of a clergyman’s household. Apparently, the clergyman wasn’t on good terms with Zhen Fa and had repeatedly rebuffed his attempts to obtain mining permits. After years of back and forth, Zhen Fa had paid for his death.
The Church of Justice had investigated the case. But even with their wonderful powers of investigation, they had failed to find any solid evidence of wrongdoing. According to their rules, that meant they couldn’t prosecute. As such, Zhen Fa had gotten off easily. His success had propelled him to the head of the main Zhen family, which boasted twenty successful subsidiary households and substantial assets in Gold Leaf City.
Having found what he was looking for, Wang Jun tugged on the string connected to the shadowy letter, and the object appeared in his hands. It wasn’t enough, so he reached deeper until he found a few more strings associated with other documents. They were financial documents that traced the specific transactions. He pulled again, and a dozen or so strings reached across space and time, as fate wasn’t restricted by things like time or place. These things weren’t part of the current timeline, and all that remained were memories, or shadows of them.
Wang Jun took those shadows. They floated in the air before him, perfect replicas of things that once had been. He breathed in, then blew out a cloud of thick black smoke. It poured into the objects, which solidified. Their emptiness filled in with color, substance, and karmic attachment. The items, which had been destroyed to cover up any evidence, were whole once again.
Task completed, Wang Jun took a step forward and walked into a shadowy room at the top of the mansion. There, he found Zhen Fa’s wife fast asleep. The family leader was in his study, busily working away at a business plan for a new mine. Wang Jun cleared his throat, and this time, he allowed the man to hear it.
Zhen Fa looked up with a start. He frowned when he saw Wang Jun’s shadowy figure, whose features were completely obscured. “Who are you?” he asked. “How did you get here?” He summoned a spirit sword. The silver blade was an
