B3 Chapter 21

Orange-crest stared into Pei Zihao's eyes.

The monkey kept his back straight, his posture iron-proper, and his mouth tightly shut. His words could condemn him, but silence seemed yet safe. Pei Zihao had claimed cultivators were treated differently than normal criminals. They were fined, rather than beaten. Could Pei Zihao just order him beaten until he talked? Orange-crest wasn't sure, but he didn't think the official could, not without more than mere suspicion to move upon.

The monkey needed the law to be his roof. He didn't know the law, not in any sort of detail. But Pei Zihao did.

Pei Zihao needed some element of the truth to be his saber. But if he had everything he needed, why did he open with such force?

The official knew something about what had happened in Huangsongyu. Pei Zihao claimed he could smell lies. The former was probably true. That name was damning. It was not proof by itself, but it was awfully close to it.

The technique though, that was where weakness lay. If Pei Zihao's technique was flawless, there was no reason to reveal it. Perhaps he could only maintain it for short periods of time. Perhaps it only applied to lies that were crimes. Or maybe it was uselessly sensitive, and would trigger on even the smallest of exaggerations. However it worked, there had to be a vulnerability that orange-crest could exploit.

"To the best of my knowledge, I have never once lied to an imperial official in the furtherance of a criminal endeavor." Orange-crest said slowly, proudly.

That was true. Inarguably so, if taken as a whole. That first little clause made the whole thing unassailable, and the clause at the end absolved him of any violation of the penal code.

Orange-crest watched the truth of it wash across Pei Zihao's face. Nostrils flared, a wrinkle appearing in the space between nose and brow. A bad taste on the tongue.

"There are other entries in the penal code that forbid deceiving imperial agents." Pei Zihao said, his voice fading off into ambiguity, inviting further elaboration.

Orange-crest crossed his arms, joining his sleeves before him, as if making ready to bow. He said nothing. That was not a question.

The monkey wasn't so naive to think that ignorance would be considered a defense in the eyes of man's laws. But he couldn't accidentally admit to a crime he didn't know was a crime either. Pei Zihao quoting any more laws at him would be a double-edged sword.

Orange-crest didn't know what rights a cultivator had to anonymity. They clearly had some, or Pei Zihao would simply remove his hat by force. But not knowing the extent of his rights also meant not knowing if they applied to a spirit beast.

"Why did you lie before the ministry's guards?" Pei Zihao eventually demanded.

"I am separated from my master." Orange-crest could have kept holding his tongue. But he didn't think this would go well, if proceedings turned truly adversarial. He had to give the man just enough to sate him. "He instructed me to conceal my identity, until the day he thought I was ready to do otherwise. I swore no specific oath. But I am a filial disciple."

"I see. Who then is your master, Daoist Big Hat? And under what circumstances were you parted, for you to claim such a title before Foundation Establishment?"

"My master is an alchemist. He does not leave his mountain frequently. You would not—" Orange-crest's heart leapt in his chest. Li Xun had been born in Huangshi. He'd returned at least once. He was about to lie, to say Pei Zihao would certainly not know him. He didn't know that. "—recognize him." The monkey finished, picturing his master's broken body.

Pei Zihao inhaled quietly, like a serpent tasting the air for prey.

"All the same, I would like to hear his name."

Orange-crest licked his lips. His mouth was dry. He should have gotten something to drink with those buns. He almost asked, but this was clearly not that sort of meeting. Humans. They offered you tea at every occasion, except when you actually needed it.

"The Great Xiao Code says it is a crime for a cultivator to lie to an imperial official. Does the Great Xiao Code say it is a crime for a cultivator to refuse to satisfy an official's curiosity?"

Pei Zihao's frown deepened.

"Be careful, fellow daoist. You will not like the consequences if this friendly interview devolves into a more formal investigation."

Orange-crest could swear his own nascent truth-sense was coming in, because that statement smelled like blood in the air.

"I do not want there to be any bad blood between myself and the Ministry of Daoist Affairs. My master had only respect for the Empire of Xiao." Orange-crest almost mentioned his master had once considered joining them, but then he thought better of it. He saw in his mind a vision of his master, what he might sound like, if one only knew certain details about him.

Orange-crest leaned forward.

"I may have committed some small crimes. Like disrupting the peace of my ward." The monkey admitted. He could afford that one.

"You have not disclaimed the name of Chengse."

"It is not my name. But some men have called me by it."

"Your household contains a number of mortals of dubious background. Mortals who have been heard answering to the names of men detained for investigation, on charges of theft, by one Assistant Magistrate He."

Orange-crest winced. Hong Bo had said the bandits needed new names. Orange-crest had... Been too tired to care to see it properly done.

But, detained for investigation? The Assistant Magistrate had made it sound like the bandits' guilt had been decided. That did not sound anywhere near as settled.

Orange-crest shifted, trying his best to channel Li Shuwen. That questioning lilt in his voice, when he played the rube despite having read every book in the pavilion.

"I am not a very worldly man." Unquestionably true. "My master's teachings prioritized alchemy and cultivation above all other arts. He taught me of law and virtue with only a few scant strokes. He did not often discuss the Great Xiao Code specifically."

Pei Zihao scowled.

"Ignorance does not excuse wrongdoing, not even for a foreigner. You harbor men accused of a crime. That is an obstruction of the course of justice."

Pei Zihao quoted yet another law. Another punishment-grade modification, or term of imprisonment. Orange-crest just smiled beneath his hat. Pei Zihao had assumed his master came from outside the empire, hadn't he?

"Fu Daxian and his men are in every measure innocent of what Assistant Magistrate He accused them of."

The unambiguous words hung in the air. Pei Zihao's nose wrinkled, as if the truth were an especially rancid fart. But he did not deny them.

"Can an Assistant Magistrate pass sentences on his own?" Orange-crest pressed. "My master would never have let an assistant alchemist's mistakes stand between a patient's life and death. But I don't know imperial law. I just know that assistant sounds a lot like disciple."

"Assistant Magistrate He was overenthusiastic in the prosecution of his duties. He has been disciplined for borrowing his superior's authority without good cause. However, even if the magistrate overstepped his bounds, and was mistaken in his convictions, there are ways for a cultivator of your stature to correct such misunderstandings. Bullying your juniors is not one of them."

Orange-crest bowed his hat, as if in shame, or perhaps sheepishness. He wished he could see himself from the outside right now.

"My master has enemies no Qi Condensation cultivator could stand against. Enemies a cultivator..." Orange-crest looked Pei Zihao up and down. "At the Great Circle of Foundation Establishment would be as dust before. It did not seem prudent, to reveal my name."

"The luminaries of the empire stand far beyond small officials such as I. Our laws apply equally to every cultivator beneath heaven. If foreign demons sought to violate the emperor's peace, you would be entitled to the same protections you stand accused of violating."

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Orange-crest licked his canines. They'd agreed his crimes existed, and were relatively minor. It was time to drop the big rock.

"I am..." The monkey hesitated, feigning thought. "I am used to relying upon my master. When it comes to dealing with laws and officials. I apologize. I have made mistakes, and created trouble for you."

"You did." Pei Zihao's eyes narrowed in victory. "Perhaps we should discuss your punishment. Ignorance is not an excuse, but contrition can be a mitigating factor."

Orange-crest stood, and bowed low.

"My master left me in the care of a distant acquaintance of his. Urgent matters demanded his attention, and he could not put them off, so he sought the nearest appropriate fellow daoist to entrust me to. Even though my master did not know him well, my martial uncle has treated me with nothing except kindness, and shown great wisdom and understanding. But... He is a reclusive fellow. He has not left his mountain often, since advancing to Nascent Soul. I did not wish to make trouble for him. It seems I have made trouble for you instead."

"Nascent Soul?" Pei Zihao exhaled slowly, clearly not expecting such potent backing.

Orange-crest's heart was in his throat. He needed Pei Zihao to ask the obvious question. Nascent Soul was good. Nascent Soul meant orange-crest would have enough time to leave town. But Nascent Soul was not enough to make him untouchable.

Pei Zihao was a composed man. He had taken setbacks in stride, accepting orange-crest's words at face value, trusting the same truth-sense that could have condemned the monkey to exonerate him. But he was curious. How could he not be?

"If your Dao Protector stands in Nascent Soul," Pei Zihao asked, "how accomplished is your master?"

Orange-crest tilted his head. He kept his tone casual, as if this were the most natural trivia in the world to share.

"I don't know what realm my master stands in, after his most recent breakthrough. He refused to tell me very much about the realms that come after Nascent Soul."

Two very true, very unrelated, sentences.

Pei Zihao's only reaction was to swallow. In that moment, it appeared orange-crest wasn't the only one who would have appreciated a cup of tea.

Or something stronger.

Beneath his hat, the monkey smiled, imagining Li Xun standing far beyond even the emperor, taking his rightful place in those misty legends populated by patriarchs and immortals.

Pei Zihao recovered quickly. But the spiritual sense that had filled the room since the monkey entered, an open palm ready to suppress a potential criminal at a moment's notice, slowly, almost sheepishly, began to withdraw. Orange-crest suspected that meant he was free of the technique that Pei Zihao had been using to verify the truth of his words, but he didn't plan to let up his scrupulous honesty.

"There were other unanswered questions about the incident in Huangsongyu. The theft of the livestock that incited it all, did you have some involvement with it?"

"Those pigs? They won't be a danger to anyone in the future."

"A danger?"

"You didn't know? They were spirit beasts. Surprisingly powerful ones, for their docility. That pen could never have held them. But you know how spirit beasts are, cunning and deceitful. They enjoyed being warm and fed. But when their owners decided to butcher them, they might have turned violent. They were certainly strong enough to trample a village of mortals. I just wanted to avert a tragedy. I did not think enough before I acted."

"What did you do with them?"

"I told you, I took care of them. They won't be a danger to anyone, in the future."

Over a hundred li away, Ruo Ping watched as Guts' powerful nose continued to malfunction. The pig was sneezing constantly, as if allergic to the pollen of the last plant he'd unearthed, a reed with thick heads and strange bulbous roots that looked almost edible, if not for the veins of disturbingly vibrant blue that dotted them.

Hopefully the boss would know what to do with all these strange plants.

Ruo Ping grunted, shifting his shoulders to emphasize how full his pack was. It wasn't filled with snacks any longer. The three of them had made short work of the provisions Fu Daxian had packed them, Ruo Ping had even made a run to a nearby village to purchase more nuts and rice wine with his own funds. The boss had been right. The pigs liked wine, though they didn't seem to share the boss's strong preference for fruity ones.

Brawn chuffed in rare agreement with Ruo Ping. The big boar wasn't as friendly as his smaller brother, and was clearly impatient for Ruo Ping to be on his way.

That was fine. Brawn was very gentle. For all that he constantly snorted in frustration, not once on this trip had Ruo Ping truly feared the massive boar. He would win the pig over eventually. Brawn's mood had been much more tolerant, when Ruo Ping had been plying him with good food and drink.

Ruo Ping had been about to call the matter settled when Guts shook his shoulders, and dug a forehoof deep into the soft earth.

Ruo Ping sighed, and followed in the sneezing pig's wake. The nuances of this 'true tongue' were far beyond him. Truthfully, he wasn't even certain whatever talent the boss had seen in him was real.

Pigs were just not that hard to understand. They liked what they liked, and rejected what they didn't.

But apparently Guts liked finding plants for the boss. Liked being useful. Ruo Ping could understand that. And he still had a little room left in his pack.

Maybe when he got back, he'd ask Boss Big Hat to teach him what some of these plants were.

"Justice must be served." Pei Zihao said firmly. "Crime cannot go unpunished."

"Of course." The impossible daoist agreed easily.

"You have committed several violations of the Great Xiao Code."

"I have."

"After grade modifications and conversions, disruption of the peace, destruction of private property, obstruction of the course of justice, and four counts of assaulting a yamen runner demand a total fine of approximately a hundred and twenty spirit stones."

It was at once an impossible sum, and nothing at all. That was the problem with seeking to hold cultivators to account. In the end, the empire had only four true weapons to wield against them. Shame, fines, imprisonment, and execution. And the last two were weapons of last resort, almost certain to escalate conflicts. A cultivation base could also be shattered, but if the empire was resolved to go that far, execution was almost always the more correct course. Neither act could be undone, so why let such a villain live to seek vengeance? His backing would not be mollified by mere crippling.

Yet eccentrics cared nothing for face, and fines were no punishment at all to the truly wealthy, or ascetics with no hope of paying.

"I do not have that many spirit stones." Daoist Big Hat said calmly. "If I traded in all my silver, I have perhaps six spirit stones. But I will earn more, until I can pay you."

Pei Zihao inhaled sharply through his nose. Apparently the irritating man before him could be counted in both categories. An eccentric, and a miser.

"And your storage ring is sealed."

"Yes."

There was a part of him that wished to make a stand here. To demand the ring, and to try his own might against the seal upon it, if it even existed. To throw the man in a suppression cell for a few weeks and wait to see what happened. His junior clearly did not take Pei Zihao seriously, for all his easy cooperation.

But then, who would take any such matter seriously, with such heaven-shaking backing? Pei Zihao had not risen to his current position by acting on something as small and meaningless as his own wishes.

"In light of your cooperation in this matter, I could waive a portion of the fine. However, considering your circumstances, I will instead extend to you a grace period of ten years before the ministry demands the fine's payment."

Pei Zihao doubted the ministry would ever be paid. Cultivators like this advanced, fled, or died, before decades passed. A fine delayed might as well not be assessed at all. Yet, a debt uncollected was karma. The disciple might not understand, but the master would. Perhaps the connection would one day yield fruit for one of his seniors, whether in battle or cooperation.

"I understand." Daoist Big Hat said quietly. "I will not forget your reasonableness in this matter."

Meaningless pleasantries followed. Pei Zihao couldn't read his counterpart's face, couldn't tell if he was bemused, or genuinely pleased. That hat was a powerful treasure. He crushed the part of him that yearned to demand it as collateral, and dismissed the daoist.

A blank sheet of paper drifted through the air, an autumn leaf that landed perfectly in the center of Pei Zihao's desk.

The Commissioner of Daoist Affairs for Huangshi began to write. The factors that governed this matter were many, but they were not fundamentally complex. The man either had transcendental backing, or he had a technique capable of overcoming Pei Zihao's Rectification of Deceit from a full realm below. Such talent wasn't much different from powerful backing, in the grand scheme of things. Either truth demanded that Daoist Big Hat be brought to the attention of more senior branches of the ministry, who might be more capable of identifying what foreign faction he hailed from. Pei Zihao recommended passive surveillance, primarily watching for the signs of a hidden master moving through the area, the seemingly sourceless perturbations in qi that would accompany such power.

He trusted his art, and favored the odds of the man speaking the truth. His technique had not fallen silent in the face of the daoist's claims, but instead whispered of the barest traces of deception, common in even the most forthright of conversations.

It was good, that he had elected to handle this matter himself. Some of his juniors thought the Great Xiao was a grand sect. That they should act as a sect did, and apply the full weight of their authority to all who passed through their lands. Pei Zihao had once held similar zealous illusions, before he was initiated into the Jianheng Emperor's secret canon. Before he understood the nature of an empire.

A sect was a tree. Their teachings bore terrible fruits. Their dao reserves were deep roots, that let them weather any storm. And their canopy could become wide enough to blot out the light of the heavens.

But a tree could fall, suffer the strikes of lightning, or be set ablaze.

An empire was not a sect. It was the soil they sprang forth from. The land and the people. The mountains and the seas. The things that endured any catastrophe, outlasting even the most powerful of cultivators.

The Empire of Xiao did not seek to crush the martial world. It crept instead, to slowly smother it.

Once, the empire had been a tenuous thing. A compromise between half a dozen great figures, surviving the death of its founder only by their beneficence. Yet every year, every conquest, every successful transition of power, that mountain grew taller.

The sects and clans spoke of influence as a cyclical thing, waxing and waning. But only their grand elders and patriarchs remembered the days when the empire had not stood unquestioned. Even they, who had guarded the empire through its infancy, would need to speak in unison to gainsay it now.

Pei Zihao completed his report, and sealed it. In two days, it would reach the capital. This was important, but not urgent enough to demand the activation of a treasure, or dispatch of a cultivator.

That had been the genius of the Jianheng Emperor. The core insight that was the origin of the cultivation methods of later generations of the imperial family, as well as the roots secret canon revealed only to officials of virtue and tenure.

A man could cultivate. But so too could an empire.

Daoist Big Hat's mysterious master was not a conflict the Xiao sought at this time.

But four hundred years ago, a master in Core Formation had been enough to allow a man to slaughter peasants with impunity. Now, the disciple of a hidden master on the Long Road bowed his head and apologized after creating a commotion.

Pei Zihao leaned back in his chair. He wondered how high Daoist Big Hat would rise in four hundred more years. However high the man rose, he suspected it would not be high enough to stand in defiance of the empire's glorious future.