Book 2 Chapter 76

AN: The Museum isn't just a passing thing - it's actually plot-relevant! Unfortunately, I spent most of the time on my own interests, so we'll get to the actual relevant parts in the next chapter...

Sorry! 😭

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Even as a Yuan, Liu Rushi caught the eye.

Perhaps it had always been inevitable. There were some whose beauty could be softened by disguise, diminished by circumstance, or rendered forgettable beneath the crush of a crowd, but Rushi was not one of them. If anything, becoming a Yuan had only sharpened what had always been impossible to overlook, refining her natural allure into something even more striking.

Her hair remained as flame-kissed as ever, a luxuriant cascade of vivid red that seemed almost to possess a warmth of its own beneath the sun. Whenever she moved, the strands caught the light in sudden flashes, gleaming like molten copper flowing beneath a clear autumn sky. Against that fiery crown, the green of her scales formed a startling contrast. They were a deep, poisonous green, yet brilliant and iridescent, shimmering with subtle variations of color whenever the light touched them.

The scales followed the contours of her form with an almost deliberate artistry, tracing rather than concealing the curves beneath them. Her figure remained lush and shapely, every line of her body possessing the deliberate elegance of something carved by a master rather than shaped by nature alone, and the scales only served to accentuate it. They swept across her shoulders, followed the graceful narrowing of her waist, and curved over the generous lines of her hips, transforming what might, upon another, have seemed strange or even otherworldly into something possessing an almost dangerous allure.

Duan Cheng knew that he was biased; indeed, he was painfully conscious of it. His judgment where Liu Rushi was concerned could hardly be called impartial. Yet the other Yuan had no such excuse, and still their gazes lingered upon her. Some attempted to conceal their interest and failed. Others seemed not to realize that they were staring at all. Heads turned as she passed, and conversations faltered for the briefest instant before resuming. Even those who had no particular reason to notice her found their attention drawn toward her, as though some subtle force had caught hold of their gaze and refused to let it pass.

Rushi noticed, of course. She always noticed.

More troublesome still, she knew precisely what effect she had upon those around her. There was no coyness in the slight lift of her chin, nor any trace of embarrassment in the faint curve of her lips. She accepted their attention with the effortless composure of someone who had long since understood the power of her own beauty and had never seen a reason to apologize for possessing it. There was no vanity in her bearing, only the serene confidence of one who knew that certain gifts of heaven were meant to be wielded rather than hidden.

Liu Rushi caught the eye, and once she had caught it, she seldom released it.

Duan Cheng reminded himself, once again, that he ought to look elsewhere. Once again, he found himself disregarding his own advice. His gaze lingered for a moment too long, following the glimmer of green scales beneath the sunlight before he reluctantly forced his attention away. He reminded himself of where they were, why they had come, and what might happen if he allowed himself to become careless. They were here on a mission, not an excursion for pleasure, and there was little excuse for indulging the increasingly inconvenient fascination he felt toward the woman walking beside him.

Some measure of decorum was therefore necessary.

It was precisely for that reason that he had summoned the Thousand Faced Die. The natal artifact rested within his grasp, its countless pips shifting beneath his fingers as he fed it a thin thread of spiritual power. Each rotation altered the course of probability by the smallest degree, so subtly that the disturbance should have gone unnoticed even by a cultivator of considerable perception – or so he hoped. He was not attempting to accomplish anything so crude as to conceal them outright. Instead, he merely nudged the innumerable currents of chance surrounding them, encouraging coincidence to fall in their favor.

A passerby might decide, at the last moment, to look toward the opposite side of the street. A merchant might become absorbed in a customer who had suddenly called for his attention. Someone searching the crowd for unfamiliar faces might allow his gaze to pass over them without quite understanding why he had failed to notice them. Individually, such alterations amounted to almost nothing. Taken together, however, they could make two people disappear in plain sight.

That was what Duan Cheng intended. He wanted them to be unremarkable, forgettable, no different from any other travelers passing through the streets. He wanted their presence to leave no impression upon the minds of those they encountered, so that even if someone happened to look directly at them, the memory would fade almost as soon as the gaze moved elsewhere. The Thousand Faced Die was more than capable of accomplishing that. Unfortunately, it could not accomplish the same for Liu Rushi.

That was what had prompted his earlier observation of her. Even with the currents of probability being subtly twisted around them, Rushi remained impossible to overlook. The artifact could divert a person's attention, dull the significance of an encounter, and cause chance itself to arrange matters in their favor, but it could not persuade those who saw her that there was nothing worth noticing. She drew the eye without seeking it. She disturbed the careful currents of probability simply by existing within them, as though the world itself found her presence too striking to permit her to pass unnoticed.

Duan Cheng had always regarded the Thousand Faced Die as a rather reliable artifact. At present, however, he was beginning to suspect that it had finally encountered something it could not overcome.

"You seem troubled," Rushi noted. There was a faint note of amusement in her voice.

Duan Cheng looked at her. The sunlight had caught in her red hair once more, turning several loose strands almost golden at their edges, while the green scales along her neck and shoulders shimmered with every subtle movement. There was a knowing curve to her lips, as though she had already guessed the direction of his thoughts and was merely waiting to hear how he intended to phrase them.

"Merely wondering if we might put our time to better use," he replied, choosing not to rebuke her.

Rushi gave a languid shrug. The movement was slight, scarcely more than a graceful roll of her shoulders, yet a young Yuan standing outside a shop across the street immediately looked up. His gaze settled upon her, lingered for a moment, and then followed her as she continued walking.

"If it is an offer for what I think, then I refuse," she said. "Did we not already have this conversation?"

It was Duan Cheng's turn to be amused, though he carefully suppressed the smile that threatened to reach his lips. Beautiful, certainly, but still not without vanity. The distinction mattered. His wife had possessed much the same quality, aware of her beauty and carrying it with an air of effortless self-possession that had actually taken a fair bit of effort to master.

He did not allow the thought to linger.

"No, not that," he said. "I mean that we are drawing more attention than I think is wise. Perhaps remaining out of sight would be more conducive to what we are trying to accomplish. The Yuan are not so different from us that a beauty walking openly through the streets will not eventually invite some sort of complication. If a Foundation Establishment cultivator were to take a particular interest in you…"

He let the words trail off. It would not pose the slightest threat to either of them. A Foundation Establishment cultivator was hardly someone Duan Cheng would consider worth fearing. Yet that was precisely why the situation could become troublesome. They had come here under assumed identities, and any unnecessary confrontation would risk drawing attention to people who had no desire to be noticed.

"Fair enough," she answered. "And where would you suggest we go?"

Duan Cheng closed his eyes for a brief moment and let his qi pour into the Thousand Faced Die without restraint. Which way? The die spun, its many faces flashing beneath his fingers, before finally settling on-

"That way," Duan Cheng said, taking Rushi's hand and tugging her forward. He had been somewhat conspicuous with the amount of qi he had expended, particularly for a Qi Condensation cultivator he was disguised as, so it was better to put some distance between themselves and the crowd without delay. Liu Rushi did not complain, allowing herself to be pulled along, though nearly half the men in the street glared openly at Duan Cheng as they passed.

That was another reason to leave.

The dirt track ahead grew narrower, the hide roofs leaning toward one another until they cast long strips of shadow across the road. The press of people thinned as they moved farther from the central market, and the noise of the tent city gradually gave way to the quieter sounds of ordinary life: the swish of hide flaps being thrown open, the distant neighing of horses, and the soft chime of charms stirring in the wind from the flagpoles. It was a more favorable environment, and Duan Cheng allowed his vigilance to ease slightly.

They had been careful since entering the city, taking a circuitous route through the outer tents before coming this far. Their destination lay at the very edge of the northern part of the city, from where they could leave Sighnaq and continue farther north, regrouping with the rest of their company. The Thousand Faced Die led them onward before suddenly spinning toward an even narrower opening between the tents. It was an alley – or what Duan Cheng would have called an alley in the capital – consisting of nothing more than a thin dirt track winding between tall tents, half swallowed by shadow. It was narrow enough that even one of them would have difficulty walking through it straight, let alone a Yuan of sufficiently advanced cultivation.

Duan Cheng and Liu Rushi paused and exchanged a look. In terms of remaining out of sight, the place was nearly perfect. They could remain hidden there until midnight, when they would venture north and leave the city. At the same time, however, a question immediately arose. What was such a place doing within the encampment of the White Horde? They exchanged another look, then carefully extended their spiritual senses into the narrow passage. Only after finding nothing immediately amiss did they proceed.

It took only a dozen steps, together with the reach of their powerful spiritual senses, for the answer to reveal itself.

"The broken," Liu Rushi murmured, her voice soft and deliberately pitched so that it would not carry beyond the narrow passage.

Duan Cheng nodded. He had noticed them as well.

No wonder this place had been tucked away from the rest of the encampment. Here lived the Yuan who had nowhere else to go, those whom the wider community had no use for and little inclination to see. A man whose legs had been torn away sat beside a filthy tent, his hands resting loosely upon his knees as he stared into the distance with an expression of emptiness, scarcely aware of the world around him. Nearby, two children played in a shallow, brackish puddle, their clothes stained with dirt and their small bodies bent into awkward shapes. Something was wrong with their spines; even at their age, neither could stand or walk with anything resembling a natural posture.

A little farther on, a woman sat beside another tent, patiently mending a fishing net. The scales along her arms and shoulders were peeling and flaking away in patches, revealing raw flesh beneath, while her lower limbs were a grotesque mixture of flesh and hardened bone. She worked without looking up as they passed, her fingers continuing their slow, practiced movements.

These were the weak, the lost, and the diseased. They had been pushed away from the heart of the Yuan settlement and left to gather here, in the shadows between the tents, where their existence would trouble as few eyes as possible. This was the underbelly of the Yuan city, a place where those who could no longer contribute were quietly allowed to disappear. Duan Cheng had seen a hundred such sights before. More than a hundred, perhaps. Enough that the sight should have been familiar to him. Not among the Yuan, of course, but in the capital. Yet the difference between the two was negligible.

The same hollow despondence clung to the adults, settling over them like dust that no amount of washing could remove. The same faint resignation lingered in their eyes, as though they had long since stopped expecting anything from the world beyond whatever scraps of existence it was willing to grant them. And alongside that despair came the children, playing in whatever patches of dirt and water they could find, laughing with the careless cheer of those too young to understand what their surroundings meant. Their laughter sounded almost jarring against the silence of the adults. Duan Cheng had seen that contrast many times before too. Misery was not something children understood easily. Give them a stick, a puddle, a few stones, and one another, and they would find a game. They could laugh in places where their parents had forgotten how.

It made for a peculiar sort of neighborhood, one in which ignorance and despair existed side by side until neither seemed unusual anymore. Once, long ago, he had found such places difficult to ignore. Back when he had pulled people from the slums of the capital and sent them into a dying mine, telling himself that he was doing them a kindness. The mine was dangerous, certainly, and the work was brutal, but at least there they would have some purpose. It was a better fate, he had told himself, than allowing them to remain in those rotting dwellings until sickness or hunger claimed them.

He had repeated that justification often enough that, for a time, he had almost believed it. After doing it enough times, he no longer needed to tell himself that it was a better fate. His conscience had simply stopped asking for an answer.

Liu Rushi, however, was observing something else entirely. "How are they-" She hesitated, then lowered her voice further. "I mean, even in the Thousand Shattered Islands, I had heard of the miraculous power of Firemilk, which can defeat any disease. Not to mention the reputed Qilin Breath Elixir, which can restore lost limbs and bring a man who is nearly dead back to life. Even with such things, how is a place like this possible?"

Duan Cheng shook his head. "The Steppes know disease in a way that the Empire does not. Anyone who has served at the Wall knows this. Epidemics are cyclical here; they arise and recede with a regularity almost like the rising and setting of the sun. Firemilk is miraculous, but it is not a cure for everything, and more importantly, it is reserved for those who can afford it. Even with the shamans, there is never enough to go around. Those born weak or poor may remain that way for their entire lives."

He glanced toward the figures huddled beside the tents. "Qilin Breath can heal almost any wound, that much is true, but the Yuan wage war far more regularly than we do. They need their stores of it for their strongest warriors, men whose survival may determine the outcome of a battle. There is a reason both substances are so rare within the Empire, and it is not the artificial scarcity that some of the merchant clans like to whisper about."

Liu Rushi nodded, her gaze lingering upon several of the broken figures they passed. Thankfully, none of them seemed particularly interested in the two travelers moving quietly through their midst, for which Duan Cheng was grateful. They continued onward at an unhurried pace, eventually leaving the narrow alley behind and emerging onto a broader track. The change was immediate. There was more room between the tents here, and the passage opened into a somewhat wider thoroughfare where several paths converged.

At the point where their narrow alley met the broader track stood a massive tent, its structure so large that it might easily have housed several ordinary establishments beneath the same roof. A wooden plaque hung vertically from its weathered facade. Duan Cheng's eyes settled upon the characters carved into the wood: Museum of Bone.

"Interesting…" Liu Rushi murmured, and they stepped inside.

The interior was dim and cool. Small globes of qi hung from rough ropes overhead, casting a muted light across the room, while the felt walls of the tent had been painted black. A wooden spiral staircase led upward from one corner, and the floors were made of planks covered with stretched hide. On the ground floor, small stone plinths stood at intervals throughout the room, each bearing some object or collection of objects. Beside every plinth floated a jade slip.

Duan Cheng's eyebrows rose slightly. Jade slips were not common in the Steppes. Their presence here was enough to suggest that this place had been built, at least in part, through trade with the Empire.

In one corner, a Yuan with scales covering only the left half of his body rose to his feet as they entered. His right side was entirely free of scales, leaving the contrast so stark that Duan Cheng immediately suspected some form of qi deviation. The Yuan's spiritual sense swept over them, and surprise briefly crossed his features before a smile spread across his face. He hobbled toward them, one leg ending in a hoof and the other in a human foot, giving his gait an awkward, uneven rhythm.

"Welcome, welcome, brother and sister. I am Gujug. Please, come in. Not many take an interest in this humble establishment, but I promise you, you will be surprised. I have collected these bones from all across the Steppes, and each and every one of them is unique."

Duan Cheng nodded as he looked around, more grateful to have found a place that, as its proprietor had said, seemed to attract few visitors than particularly interested in the collection itself. Rushi, however, smiled, immediately drawing the man's attention. The human half of Gujug's face flushed, while the Yuan half remained stoic. The difference was so pronounced that it only strengthened Duan Cheng's suspicion that whatever had happened to him was some form of qi deviation.

"What is a museum, if you don't mind me asking?" Rushi said. "I don't recall coming across such a term before."

The Yuan – Gujug – beamed. "Ah, good question, Khatun. It comes from the southern Empire, you see. My father was a merchant, and he traveled all across the Steppes and down into the south. There, he came across a museum, as they call it, displaying interesting trinkets from the past. But it was not meant to attract buyers. Rather, it was open for anyone to come, learn, and share their own knowledge." He gestured proudly toward the exhibits around them. "I have established the same here. You are free to look, and if there is anything you wish to share, you may leave it behind. But the purpose is to teach more than anything else."

Rushi's expression softened with genuine interest. "That is a rather admirable purpose."

Gujug's smile widened, and for a moment the unevenness of his face became almost endearing. "My father used to say that knowledge was the one thing a merchant could carry across the world without paying a customs duty."

Rushi laughed softly.

Duan Cheng glanced once more around the dim interior. The sentiment was pleasant enough, but it was not what held his attention. The exhibits were unlike anything he had expected to find here. Some were plainly bones, while others were difficult to identify, their shapes too strange to belong to any creature he knew. Several had been polished until they gleamed faintly beneath the globes of qi, while others remained rough and discolored, as though they had been taken from the earth only recently.

More importantly, the jade slips beside them suggested that Gujug had taken his father's lesson seriously.

"I see," Duan Cheng said. "And you maintain this place yourself?"

"Mostly. Sometimes travelers bring things. Sometimes they leave something behind after learning that I have already seen what they carry. Sometimes I purchase a bone from a hunter or a merchant who does not know what he has found." Gujug spread his hands. "There are many things in the Steppes that are forgotten. I would rather they be remembered."

Duan Cheng gave a faint nod. There was something oddly fitting about the place. Outside, the broken and forgotten had been pushed into a narrow alley where the rest of the city did not have to see them. Here, the dead had been given a place where others could come and remember them. Perhaps that was why the museum felt quieter than the street outside.

Rushi had already moved toward the nearest plinth. She leaned over it, studying the object upon its surface before turning toward the jade slip beside it. Her eyes brightened with curiosity, and Gujug immediately followed, apparently delighted to have finally found visitors who were genuinely interested in his collection.

Duan Cheng allowed himself a small breath of relief. They had found somewhere secluded enough to wait, and, more importantly, somewhere they were unlikely to be disturbed. The Thousand Faced Die remained quiet within his hand, its earlier agitation having subsided now that they were away from the main thoroughfare.

He looked toward the entrance. Beyond the black felt curtains, the sounds of the encampment continued: distant voices, the occasional cry of a beast, the muffled movement of people passing along the track. None of it suggested that anyone had followed them. For the moment, they were safe.

Duan Cheng turned back toward Rushi. She was listening intently as Gujug explained the history of the bone before her, occasionally asking a question that sent the Yuan into another enthusiastic explanation. Her earlier amusement had faded, replaced by the quiet concentration she displayed whenever something genuinely captured her interest.

He watched her for a moment before walking forward and joining her. And so, beneath the dim globes of qi and surrounded by the bones of creatures long since vanished from the world, the two of them remained in the Museum of Bone while the hours slowly passed.

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AN:More chapters up on Patreon!