It was an underground cavern, its floor clearly worked by human hands into a deliberate design. Glowing magma crept down the fissures in thin red veins, slicing the ground into the shape of a vast and intricate array.
The Second Elder sat flat on the ground, staring through eyes that held only whites—pale, sightless spheres that yet saw more than mortal eyes could. His voice crept out, cold and sinister:
"On Ox-Head Mountain last night, there seemed to be more than one stranger."
The Bone Mask Messenger stood a pace away. At this, he answered only mildly. "So what of it? Other than wrong leads and a killing trap, there is nothing left on Ox-Head Mountain."
"Heh, heh, heh... that Fang boy. You just let him go back?"
"What else?"
"You truly believe Dean Dong would shield him?"
"If Dean Dong does not shield him," said the Messenger, "then losing one Fang Lin costs us nothing. And if Dean Dong does shield him, we shall see the Dao Academy and the Justice Enforcement Bureau at each other's throats. Either way, how could we lose?"
The Second Elder laughed again, two queer notes, and patted the ground beside him. "Come, sit by this old man for a while."
Beneath his feet the magma churned, terrible power coiled within its slow, unhurried flow.
"I prefer to stand," said the Bone Mask Messenger.
"You young people nowadays—each one brainier than the last. Watching you, I often feel how old I have grown."
"You were born with nether eyes. From the moment you left the womb, you could commune with yin and yang. Of course you would never understand the hardship of us ordinary sorts." The Messenger's face never left its mask. "Born without talent, one can only lean on using one's head."
The Second Elder looked up at him with a smiling, amiable face. "Messenger, do you too think this old man is a prideful fool?"
The Bone Mask Messenger deliberately, casually, avoided meeting those eyes. "You are, of course, no prideful fool. But you should be aware that I am not one either."
"You and the Holy Maiden—your attitudes are exactly alike."
"Is that so? Then I am honored."
"Once the Dao Child awakens, she will become the Holy Empress. For now you two stand on equal footing, but then she will be always above you. Are you really content with that?"
"There is no such thing as content or not." A light laugh died behind the mask. "We all give ourselves to the sect in the end. What high, what low—what does it matter?"
So saying, he turned and left.
Everything that needed saying had been said. To linger here, forever wary of those eyes, was hardly a pleasant experience.
Only after the Bone Mask Messenger had gone some distance did the Second Elder slowly spread his arms wide, as though embracing some invisible presence. "Who would have thought the Nine-Banes Yin Array could leave behind such pure yin malignance? Zuo Guanglie died well and truly—this is the will of the Revered God!"
The magma in the fissure suddenly turned back on itself, and at his very feet it gathered, straining, into the rough shape of a skull.
"Then, Lu Yan." The magma skull spoke, its voice low and grating. "Who is the prideful fool after all?"
"Heh, heh, heh, heh—you, of course! To provoke Ye Ling, was that not arrogance enough?"
The Second Elder—Lu Yan, his true name—bowed his head and cast those nether eyes down into the fissure.
"The plan has reached this stage. Let there be no more missteps..."
The skull dispersed in an instant, and the magma resumed its slow crawl.
As though none of it had ever happened.
...
"Dean! Anything but this!"
Jiang Chen had barely reached the gate of Dean Dong's small courtyard when he saw a senior brother come charging headlong inside. The man stood panting in the yard and blurted out his report:
"The Justice Enforcement Bureau has come to the Academy to make an arrest! Vice-Dean Song has held them off—it is happening at the Academy's main gate! Vice-Dean Song sent me at once to notify you!"
"I see." Dean Dong stepped out of his rooms and walked unhurriedly toward the gate.
The Justice Enforcement Bureau? Jiang Chen's mind stirred. He guessed who they had come to seize—Fang Lin. Their covert sentinel had simply vanished; of course they would demand an accounting.
Since Jiang Chen lodged at Flying Horse Lane and entered the Academy by the back gate each day, he had no idea this had broken out at the front.
The senior who had brought the word led the way, while Dean Dong followed behind, calmly and methodically questioning him on what had happened. Soaking up the Dean's composure, the senior steadied himself and told the whole tale from start to finish.
The matter itself was not complicated. The Justice Enforcement Bureau had simply come knocking, declaring that the covert sentinel assigned to trail Fang Lin had disappeared, and demanding they take Fang Lin away for questioning. Xiao Ironface, mid-lesson at the time, had blocked them then and there, insisting the Bureau first produce evidence before discussing any arrest.
The two sides stalled against each other until Vice-Dean Song Qifang was disturbed, and the Bureau Chief of the Justice Enforcement Bureau, Shan Cha, personally hurried over as well. With the affair escalated this far, no choice remained but to bring in Dean Dong.
Apart from a mask that betrayed nothing, Dean Dong gave no sign of any emotion. By the time he had finished hearing the account, they had reached the front gate.
Two cultivators of the Bureau were pinning Fang Lin in place, yet Xiao Ironface stood between them and the door, refusing to let them leave. A ring of bruise had darkened around Fang Lin's right eye; by the look of it, he had already been handled roughly.
On the other side, the old vice-dean Song Qifang, ringed by gathered lecturers and students, faced off against Shan Cha's full detachment.
"Elder Song." Shan Cha's words were deferential, but there was not one scrap of respect in his face. "May I ask what you mean by obstructing this Bureau in the execution of its duty?"
Song Qifang was old and weathered. He let his eyelids droop, and was just about to speak—
when the crowd parted.
"Dean Dong is here!"
"Let Dean Dong see justice done for us!"
Even Shan Cha himself instantly straightened his expression.
"Shan," Dean Dong asked mildly, "exactly where do you intend to take one of our students?"
"Dean Dong." Shan Cha wore a smile. "The Justice Enforcement Bureau suspects that the Bing-Wu Numbered Mission, which cost your Academy's students so terribly, concealed other secrets. We therefore dispatched a covert sentinel to watch Fang Lin night and day. But last night one of our covert sentinels—a cultivator of the Zhou Heavenly realm—suddenly vanished. The students of the City's Dao Academy are the future pillars of our state of Zhuang. For the safety of the Academy's disciples, we have decided to take Fang Lin back for questioning."
"You claim Fang Lin is tied to your sentinel's disappearance. Do you have proof?"
Shan Cha found this absurd. "That sentinel vanished in the very act of watching him! What more proof do you need? Whether it has anything to do with him—take him back for a single interrogation and we'll find out!"
"Then do you plan to extract a confession through torture, or go straight to tearing out his soul?"
Shan Cha forced a laugh. "Dean Dong is joking. The Bureau has always executed justice fairly, following its regulations in everything. How could we ever do such a thing?"
But the Dean would not spare him even that. "A petty chief like you. What joke would this Academy share with you?"
To be sure, the City's Dao Academy dean, the Bureau Chief of every city's Enforcement Bureau, and the city lord all sat among the highest ranks of each city's administration. By office, the city lord ranked half a step higher, and the dean and the chief were of equal rank.
But in practice this differed from city to city—whoever was stronger held more of the say. In the old days, when Song Qifang presided over the City's academy, Shan Cha barging in to seize students had never been anything remarkable. But now Dong sat in charge.
Shan Cha, a cultivator at the very peak of the Soaring Dragon realm—how could he raise his head before Dean Dong?
"Students of the Academy may one day well be colleagues in this Bureau too. The Bureau will never resort to torture to extract a confession." Shan Cha ground the words out between his teeth.
Dean Dong swept a look around. "Which lecturer here has no class for the moment—accompany Fang Lin to the Bureau. Our state of Zhuang has its own laws; for a normal questioning we will cooperate. But if they dare trot out those filthy prison methods, this Academy will not permit it!"
"Dean, I'll go. Fang Lin was taken from my lesson; it is my place to go." Xiao Ironface spoke up. He was known for his severity, and he held great respect for Dean Dong, a man cast from the same unbending mold.
Thus the tense standoff came to an end. The Bureau's men no longer dared lay hands on Fang Lin, only ringed him at a distance, and Xiao Ironface kept close by his side.
From beginning to end, Fang Lin hung his head and said not one word. But in his eyes was a very complicated look.
Before leaving, Shan Cha suddenly spoke. "Oh—by the way. Bureau Commander Ji will be coming to Maple Forest City before long. He and Dean Dong once crossed paths in Xin'an City, and he may well come to call upon an old acquaintance."
"Very well." Dong's face showed nothing. "If the swelling on his face has subsided, he is welcome to come."
Shan Cha: "..."
He had meant to wield his borrowed authority like a fox wearing a tiger's skin. But all at once he felt as though he had learned something he ought not to know. So he merely hurried away with his people.
...
Dean Dong stood like a needle steadying the sea, calming the Academy's nerves. From first to last, unruffled, and not without majesty.
Only Jiang Chen, who had trailed close behind the Dean since leaving the small courtyard, noticed that the hand Dong kept folded behind his back had clenched into a fist in a certain moment.
That place—"Xin'an City"—had been flung out deliberately. Perhaps it had cut him.
Cut the unbending, incorruptible old man. Cut him to the quick.