Ask anyone in Clear River County where true wealth lived, and few would name the great clans — not the Cui family, not the Lin family, not even the county governor's house. They would name the Water Palace of Clear River. All the treasures of seven hundred li of river gathered in one place; its splendor was legend.
The palace sat at the bottom of the river, holding that seven hundred li in dominion. Building upon building, rare wonders and jeweled light at every turn.
In a side hall, a handsome man in a flowing robe sat in the seat of honor, sipping tea.
Below him, a messenger in a white bone mask spoke, voice hot with fury: "Young Lord, this is not what we agreed! We gave so much. Why do the water clan only drift along the surface?"
The robed man made an appreciative sound. "Mm. This jade-green tea is excellent — nourishing to the spirit. Messenger, won't you drink?"
The messenger drank, having talked himself dry, then pressed on: "The Water Palace of Clear River has always honored its word — everyone knows it. In the old days, the Palace Master staked his whole clan on one promise to Zhuang Chengqian and fought to the death, dyeing the Yan River red. Men still sing of it. Why does the Young Lord break faith now? Aren't you afraid of staining the great one's name?"
The Yan River ran through Yong territory. The messenger spoke of the war that founded Zhuang. Yong had come by land and water to crush the little state, and the Palace Master of Clear River had answered Zhuang Chengqian's call, throwing his clan's full strength against Yong's river fleet on the Yan. The river ran red; boats refused to dock there. It was the blow that freed Zhuang Chengqian's hands and let him found his state. The pact between the Water Palace and Zhuang had stood ever since.
The robed man set his cup down. He was still smiling. The temperature of the room had changed.
"The messenger reminds me." He tapped a finger on the table. "My father swore a pact with the Emperor of Zhuang. If I help you, am I not betraying my father's honor? That would be the deepest filial sin."
"Guards." He snapped his fingers, and an attendant entered. "Order the Yuyong legion to pull back three li. Do not disturb the creatures ashore."
"Young Lord!" The masked messenger shot to his feet.
"Stop performing." The man in the robe raised a single finger. "Every army in the county is now watching us, afraid to move. You can do whatever you wanted to do, at your leisure. Your goal is accomplished. Don't be... greedy."
"We had an agreement! You were only supposed to raid the shore a little—"
"Come ashore?" The man cut him off. "Do you think that's possible? A water clan out of water is like a man out of soil — rootless. Unless you can truly make me decide to wage war on Zhuang. And can you afford that price?"
The messenger's face was hidden behind the bone mask, but his voice came out through gritted teeth: "What I gave you was a whole Dragon Pearl!"
"A generous gift, truly." The Young Lord smiled, satisfied. "But it buys only what I have already done."
The messenger knew it was hopeless. He swept out, robes flaring.
Alone in the side hall, the man in the robe sneered: "A skulking thing in a mask, lecturing me on honor?"
A voice of authority spoke out of the air, its owner unseen: "Qingyue. Tell me your thinking."
Song Qingyue, Young Lord of the Water Palace, set aside his pride and sat up straight. "The court of Zhuang has grown arrogant over centuries of our pact. This Zhuang Gaoxian — he truly thinks us his servants. He had the audacity to send word, asking for Qingzhi's hand, dressing it up as 'honoring her as Crown Princess, sealing the bond of our houses forever'..."
"I could never agree. My aunt married that Zhuang Chengqian, gave everything, and was still schemed against — she died in a cold palace!" His voice hardened. "I will not let my sister repeat her fate. I needed an excuse to move, to let the child of the Zhuang clan know who rules these seven hundred li of water. But the measure had to be right — men are strong now, and overturning Zhuang's court would only hand power to some other monarch. Thirty thousand soldiers drifting up and down Clear River was precisely right. That the Bone Path came to me themselves, offering a Dragon Pearl, was a gift I never expected."
The unseen voice sighed. "Your aunt and Zhuang Chengqian... they loved each other once. It was not your father who sought that match. Enough of that. How will you arrange Qingzhi?"
Song Qingyue thought it over. "Things are sour with the county governor, and that shameless Zhuang Gaoxian is still pressing. Clear River City is no place for her. But Qingzhi is at the age to begin her studies. I thought — send her to Maple City, to attend school for a while."
"Why Maple City?"
"You can't fool your son." Song Qingyue smiled. "The Bone Path did not spend a Dragon Pearl for nothing. Whatever they are planning in Maple City will shake Zhuang to its roots. Which is exactly why Maple City will be the safest place afterward — perfect for schooling. And a small selfishness: with Qingzhi in Maple City, we can openly send people to guard her. The city is small; there is no great cultivator there to interfere. I can trace the Bone Path's movements, sound out their depths. They have risen from the dead once already — I suspect they hide a great secret. And the Bone Path is ancient; they must possess fine treasures. Evil cults are every man's prey. One Dragon Pearl does not satisfy me."
The unseen voice offered no judgment on the Young Lord's three-step schemes. It said only: "The palace's affairs are yours. Act as you see fit."
"Yes." Song Qingyue bowed his head. "I have sent the Dragon Pearl to your seclusion chamber. Remember to refine it."
"I looked at the pearl. It carried some hidden means — I erased them." The voice was tired now. "Use it freely; it will spare you a thousand years of labor. As for me, I am an old, sick body with no hope of dragonhood. Your aunt died two hundred seventeen years and three months ago. Zhuang Chengqian died near two centuries past. The friends of those days are nearly all gone. I am alive — barely. I only watch over you a little longer. The pearl is wasted on me."
The voice faded into a sigh, and the hall was empty.
Song Qingyue leaned back in his chair. For some reason, he felt tired.
* * *
The masked messenger left the palace and boarded a small boat. It seemed made of bone, bottomless, yet it cut through the water fast as a dart, grinding any fish or crab too slow to escape — not even a fleck of blood remained.
The bottomless bone boat broke the surface. The messenger came ashore, and the boat turned and dove away, to wherever it kept.
The messenger walked fast, but his feet left no dust. He knew the county's troop deployments by heart, slipping through the gaps in their patrols. Soon he reached a mountain. It looked like a bull's head from afar, pleasant enough close up. He walked to a cliff face and stepped straight through it.
Inside was another world.
Blood-soaked murals covered the walls of a long tunnel paved with brick.
A man inside greeted him: "How did it go?"
The masked messenger spat: "Song Qingyue took the bait, then only grazed the hook!"
"That old dog Song Hengjiang isn't dead yet. He won't let Song Qingyue run wild." The man shrugged. "We never expected them to actually tear up the pact and fight the court."
"Even so. Damn him. A Dragon Pearl! None have been seen since the middle ages, and each one rarer than the last." The masked messenger sighed.
"Our purpose is achieved — Little Grove Town is done. These branches and twigs are beneath notice. Besides..." The man smiled. "Our Dragon Pearl — I fear the little beast may find it... hard to digest."
"He thinks he can toy with the Bone Path, not knowing—" The masked messenger's voice turned vicious. "When the Dao Child appears, the first thing I will do is butcher the Water Palace of Clear River! Let all seven hundred li of the river run white with bone!"