Chapter 287: Honest and Breathing

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Lu Mei’s face is one of intense concentration as she studies the battlefield. This arena is new and strange to her, and already, she is falling behind. She could blame her lack of familiarity for her performance, but such excuses will not soothe her ego. Her next move needs to be flawless.

Her dice fly.

Double sixes greet her.

A triumphant smile blossoms on her face as she moves her piece. Liu Jin pretends not to notice the way she used wind to manipulate the dice roll, as is his duty. Feng Zhuo does the same. No matter how often she has cheated, her older brother merely watches with an unfailing smile.

“Well?” Lu Mei asks, her golden eyes challenging him with their intensity.

Resigned, Liu Jin grabs the top card from the pile and reads it.

“You are courting death,” he says in a dull monotone. “Your rapid growth has angered Young Master Han. You cannot be allowed to live. Your meridians have been destroyed. You must re-enter the cycle of reincarnation.”

Lu Mei closes her eyes gracefully. Her hand barely trembles as she moves her piece back to the beginning. She even manages a smile as she passes her turn, though said smile looks dangerously stiff.

Feng Zhuo rolls next.

A mere two greets him, mollifying Lu Mei somewhat. Far from looking disappointed, Feng Zhuo happily advances his piece two squares.

Liu Jin grabs the next card.

“You help an orphan girl and discover she has the Miraculous Five-Veined Trait. A calamitous beauty is added to your harem. Dual cultivation fortifies your body, and many children are born to your line. Advance eleven paces and draw five reward cards.”

“Who wrote this game!” Lu Mei says, her thin veneer of patience finally cracking.

“The Leaf Game is an ancient and honored game,” Feng Zhuo says, not even slightly bothered by Lu Mei’s outburst as he moves his piece. If anything, he looks happy to have the opportunity to explain. “Granted, certain adjustments have been made over the centuries. There are also several regional variants. This is one of the tamer ones.”

Liu Jin raises an eyebrow. So far, Lu Mei has been killed twice, tortured once, and has had her cultivation destroyed seven times. Feng Zhuo’s episodes, though luckier for his piece, tend to involve the slaughter of entire clans or the gaining of beautiful women with far more detail than necessary. Sometimes both.

Often both.

“This is one of the tamer ones?”

“Naturally,” Feng Zhuo replies with complete seriousness. “I would be a poor brother if I exposed my sister to bad influences. In particular, my uncle created a variant that is highly complicated and not fitting for anyone’s eyes or ears. I love him, but his mind is such a dangerous place, brother-in-law.”

The image of Lord Feng Gui’s smiling face flashes through Liu Jin’s mind.

“I can imagine that,” Liu Jin says flatly.

“Who cares what is in that man’s mind?” Lu Mei says. She points a finger at Feng Zhuo. “How are you doing this? It makes no sense!”

Lu Mei has been cheating at every opportunity, but she has yet to win a single game against Feng Zhuo. Whenever she gains the slightest lead, Feng Zhuo stumbles upon good fortune and reaps even greater rewards. The difference in results is overwhelming.

And yet, as far as Lu Mei and Liu Jin can tell, Feng Zhuo has not been cheating at all.

“It makes no sense, you say?” Feng Zhuo echoes, placing a hand over his heart. “Dearest sister, it is the most natural thing. As the older brother, it is my duty and privilege to be an insurmountable obstacle in your path, an exemplary example of perfection for you to aspire to. Feng Zhi might have thoroughly failed or perhaps succeeded too quickly, but do not worry, sister. Your dearest brother has learned from his dearest cousin’s follies.”

Liu Jin feels momentary pity for Feng Zhi. The worst part is that Feng Zhuo is speaking so cheerfully that it is clear he is not trying to insult his younger cousin.

“Now!” Feng Zhuo smiles as he brings his hands together. “I do believe this game is nearly won. Is it okay if I claim my reward early? Or do you wish to continue?”

Lu Mei glares sullenly at the board and then at Liu Jin, as if blaming him for not cheating in her favor. While he considered doing it, Liu Jin is nearly certain that Feng Zhuo would not be as willing to overlook his cheating as he is with Lu Mei’s.

“Fine,” Lu Mei says, inching away from the board as though it were a filthy thing. “What was it we wagered this time? I cannot seem to remember.”

“An embarrassing memory,” Feng Zhuo says, his smile growing wider with anticipation. “Go on, dearest sister. Share it.”

“Must I, brother?” Lu Mei asks, somehow managing to look modest and vulnerable. “We have only just met. Your sister does not want to lower your opinion of her.”

“Ah, to think my sister is already trying to take advantage of my affection! I am so proud of you,” Feng Zhuo says. “However, your brother is not a man who shows mercy when he is winning.”

The look on Lu Mei’s face is immediately replaced by dark annoyance.

“Fine,” she says. ”As you might know, the Red Sky Pavilion is fond of music and the arts.”

“Their performances are lovely,” Feng Zhuo says, nodding. This only serves to make Lu Mei’s dour look even dourer.

“My mother thought it was important for a proper lady to excel at all things relevant,” Lu Mei says. “That is to say, all the things a lady of the Red Sky Pavilion is expected to know. From the moment I could understand words, my mother instructed me in the manipulation of wind, the use of flying items, and the making of medicine. Naturally, someone with my ancestry was also expected to excel in the performative arts.”

Feng Zhuo lets out a soft ‘Ho’ of interest. Even Liu Jin can tell where this is going.

“However, though this little miss has been abundantly blessed in a great many things, such as beauty that makes most women curse their ugliness and talent that makes most feel inadequate, my younger self was not particularly skilled in the arts of dance and singing,” Lu Mei says with such humility that Liu Jin starts to see how she and Feng Zhuo are related. “If I have to be harsh on myself, I would say my ability was acceptable.”

“Oh dear,” Feng Zhuo says, immediately understanding the damning praise. “And the granddaughter of two Elders, no less!”

Lu Mei nods somberly. “I cannot say I was a wanted child, but my status was too great to ignore. Elder Zhao had no choice but to give me a leading role in the children’s performance of The Swordsman and the River Maiden. He risked offending too many people otherwise. However, because he could not stand anything less than perfection, he and my mother constantly made me practice those damned songs and dances.” She covers her face with her hands. “Do you have any idea how it feels like to keep making mistakes in front of the rest of the cast? It was so embarrassing!”

“Oh, my pitiful sister! My heart grieves for you,” Feng Zhuo says, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I wish I could say I know how you feel, but even if you had won, your dearest brother has no shames or failures to share with you. You can say I’m quite shameless.”

Even if she had won. Liu Jin resists the urge to shake his head at the absurdity of it.

A victory for a question. Those are the rules Lu Mei and Feng Zhuo agreed upon. The one who wins the game gets to ask a question, which must be answered truthfully. Then, they choose another game, and the process is repeated.

However, Liu Jin has already realized there is no way Feng Zhuo can lose, and Feng Zhuo probably knew that from the beginning. Lu Mei has not been able to ask a single question from him so far. The only things they know about him are information he has freely shared.

This cannot be explained with simple luck, yet Liu Jin does not think he can call it cheating.

Xun Huwen’s face flashes through Liu Jin’s mind.

Feng Zhuo’s existence… His ability to impose his will on fate itself… It might just be that it is unimaginably heavy.

Liu Jin looks at Feng Zhuo carefully, but his other senses are turned inward. His soul. His Qi. His dao. If he put them on a scale against Feng Zhuo’s, could he make his luck trump his? Is it even possible to do such a thing?

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Feng Zhuo notices his stare and smiles winningly.

“I really do not like you,” Lu Mei grouses.

Feng Zhuo laughs.

“That must mean I am doing a fantastic job as an older brother!”

~~~

Night falls over the Storm Dragon Palace.

The bodies of those who died during the civil war have already been burned. There is nothing left around the palace but empty plains with scarce vegetation. In a way, the Storm Dragon Palace looks almost completely removed from the country it governs.

Something moves in this empty scenery.

The signs are small. The nearly inaudible crunching of grass. The slightest imprints on the dirt. The bugs that suddenly crawl away, and the lone bird that takes flight in a hurry. No one looking from afar would notice their approach.

Suddenly, they stop.

Nothing has changed. The scenery remains the same. There is no one around them, no reason they should hesitate.

Terror grips their hearts.

The emotional response goes beyond mere logic. This is the result of centuries of experience sublimated in a single moment. Their bodies are moving before their minds have finished processing the information. Stealth is discarded. Caution is abandoned. They have to run!

Light flickers.

It is nothing more than the smallest of embers, little more than fireflies in the night.

They burn.

One by one, their bodies are incinerated. It happens so quickly they do not even have time to scream. It is doubtful they even realized they were being killed. The ashes of their corpses fall and are scattered to the winds. No trace is left behind. No evidence of the deed.

Feng Zhuo dusts off his hands.

“How curious. I did not expect my brother-in-law to spend his nights like this.”

Feng Zhuo’s body goes still. Slowly, very slowly, his head turns to the side, and he finds a small white snake staring at him.

The red eyes are unmistakable.