Chapter 21- The Burning Sky Cranes

“It’s less of a choice than it looks. I’m not going to be fit to fight for weeks.” Tian smiled awkwardly. “Although, I do have some medicine you could use. It’s water qi aligned, and I think it would work well in healing any damage you took to your meridians.”

Liren gave him a cool look. “Let’s talk about that later. For now, we focus on getting up to the Convent outside of Deep Valley City. We can get better healing there, and maybe even hire some Sisters to escort us further on towards West Town. We can also get more information on whatever this heretic scheme is, if there is more information.”

“Makes sense. How far is it to Deep Valley City?”

“A week by road, but we are crossing overland to the Green River here at Golden Fields Town. Once we reach the river, the route is a bit longer but we travel faster.”

Tian grunted. Not a short distance, but not a long one either. At least, not if they were healthy. “How are you doing, Sister?”

“Better than you but not good. That poison was nasty, whatever it was.”

Tian nodded. “Mmm. My physique handled it, but not as fast as I would have expected. It had time to do real damage. I’m honestly a bit shocked.”

“Tyrant’s Breath.” Censor Henshen smiled, the expression looking more painful than crying. “It’s a poison called Tyrant’s Breath. Quite an ancient one, though as you might imagine, not one that is in common use.”

“How do you know about a poison that works on cultivators?” Hong asked.

“Because it doesn’t just work on cultivators. Immortal Hong must not have noticed, but look out into the street. Listen to the gongs. White ribbons are covering Golden Fields Town today, and will be for days to come.”

Tian could hear it, now that he was listening for it. Banging gongs and the wailing of mourners. The mourners would be professionals in a city. In a town like this, they were probably family.

“How many died?”

“Ten so far, with a bare few still struggling. And the only reason anyone in the Tea House made it out alive is that Daoist Li evacuated us all out the back. Two of the cooks stayed a little longer to put out the fires, and got caught in the spreading gas. They didn’t make it. We thought there would be a fire. Buildings get knocked down when cultivators struggle, a lamp spills, or coals catch on silk.”

Censor Henshen carefully picked up his tea cup and drank slowly. “Once I heard the symptoms and learned the two of you were affected, I knew what it was. This matter has already been reported to the local prefect. Unless I much miss my guess, the local sects or even the Monastery will be deployed to crush the Five Poisons Cult. You don’t need to do it yourself, though someone will surely want to know why they were after you.”

“I’d like to know that too. We’ve been active on the Agate, but only for a few months. Less than half a year, really. Most of the people with a real name or legend have been doing it for decades. Clearing a few bandits and stopping some spiritual animals does not even approach the threshold.” Hong rapped the table.

Tian nodded, slouching back in his chair and letting his eyes close. His eyes ached. Just closing his eyes and letting the tiny muscles relax felt so good he nearly groaned.

“Why is it called Tyrant Breath?” He asked.

“Because it was developed under the reign of, and used by, Empress Zhu. The only Empress to hold the crown in her own right, and generally held up as the reason there hasn’t been a second. Thirty of my predecessors were sealed in an underground chamber and were drowned as all the chamberpots in the palace were poured into it over the course of several weeks. On the basis that golden fish should swim in golden water, and should keep their opinions about her to themselves. Fair to say the Censorate keeps her memory alive. The final method she employed to suppress opposition, after twenty years of iron fisted rule, was a poison gas created by a mysterious daoist alchemist. Highly effective in removing some well defended noble estates without having to mobilize the whole military.”

“Oh, I remember her. She was in my history books, though they didn’t say anything about poison gas.” Tian didn’t open his eyes.

“Some of those noble families, one in particular, had cultivator ancestors. Zhu was always paranoid, and by that point there was nobody who would dare question her orders. We had a new emperor ten minutes after she tried gassing the Imperial Temple of the Ancient Crane Monastery. Nine of which were spent pulling the future emperor out of the chest he was hiding in and crowning him. A nicely symbolic number, it was agreed. Building the new imperial palace took close to a decade, due to needing to refill the hole where the old one had been. The new emperor’s first official act was to destroy all stockpiles of the poison, all records of how to manufacture it and kill anyone with the knowledge of how to produce any part of it.”

“Regrettably, by that time, the formula had leaked, though it remains a death sentence to be caught using it.” Hong concluded, resting her chin on her fist.

“Exactly, Immortal Hong.”

“How did she become empress anyway?” Hong asked.

“She was recruited at fourteen from a minor civil servant household and selected as a junior ranking imperial concubine. She bore the emperor no sons, but still managed to earn a degree of favor so she was not dismissed and confined to the Cold Palace. There were three legitimate heirs. The First Prince was maneuvered by the Second Prince into, perhaps, arguably, forming a conspiracy to depose his father and take the throne. The Second Prince revealed the plot to the Emperor and had the First Prince, and his mother, exiled to the border where they died. The Second Prince hung on for a few more years, but the Emperor concluded that the situation with the former First Prince might not have been what he thought at the time, and filled with regret, exiled the Second Prince and his mother to the border. Where they died.”

Censor Henshen paused for a moment, clearly picking his words carefully. In a high voice, he continued. “The Third Prince was very… filial. His mother had died years before, so he clung to his father. Very doting. Sat with his father every day during the Emperor’s long illness before his passing. All day, every day, even missing meals.”

“Who was managing the country?” Tian asked.

“The Emperor, of course! Abily assisted by his ministers, and when he could be pulled away from the sickbed, the Third Prince. Who was filial, but not…”

“Actually good at, or interested in, managing a country?” Tian asked.

“I would never characterize a former emperor that way.” The Censor’s voice went wooden. “I would note, however, that he relied heavily on the advice of his surrogate mother-figure, Concubine Zhu. So heavily that it was understood he simply passed her the memorials for her to review, then stamped whatever she decided. He took the throne upon his father’s passing, ruled actively for four years, then suffered a stroke.”

“Ah. She stepped in again?” Hong asked.

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“She didn’t have far to step. She had married him by that point.”

“Didn’t you say she was a kind of surrogate mother to him?” Tian asked.

“Indeed. Practically raised him, in fact.” The Censor nodded.

The table went silent for a moment while everyone digested that.

“Anyhow, she functionally ran the country in his name for a decade, then in her own name for another. Her policies were… adequate for keeping the country going, but relied on naked force rather than virtue or reason to maintain authority. Concubines do not become Empresses, and the Empress does not leave the back palace. Particularly when other deserving people stood ready to sit upon the Dragon Throne. It couldn’t last, and didn’t. Eventually she eliminated the wrong family and suffered the consequences.”

“Surprised we didn’t have a whole new dynasty.” Tian half grinned.