Chapter 28: The Shadow Scribe and the Dark-hearted Raven

Night falls before the old temple.

The crows in the grand locust tree had been squawking for quite some time, unsettling Lord Clay within the temple.

This was a special day; an old friend had come to visit, a certain underworld official from the Four Sorrowful Cloud Temples within the Heshan Sect.

Underworld officials were not like mountain spirits, who could idle away their days in the mountains. They served in the earthly courts, traversing the mortal realm, acting as eyes and ears for the immortal gates, dispatched by the Daoist officers, guiding the path for the followers of the Dao.

Though their work was arduous, there was a measure of profit to be found, certainly more than what Lord Clay, a mountain spirit who gambled and schemed with other spirits for treasures, could ever hope to gain.

Meanwhile, in the mountains, Ji Ming approached the old temple, ready to barge in, when he saw a vague shadow slip through the temple wall. He pondered for a moment, then transformed back into his crow form, flapped his wings, and alighted silently upon the rooftop.

Peering down from a familiar breach, he gazed into the pitch-black interior of the temple, where suddenly several clusters of ghostly fire flared to life, bathing the inside in an eerie white glow, chilling and sinister.

This sight almost made Ji Ming believe the Lady of White Bones had returned to the living world.

“Lord Clay, old Lord Clay!” called a shadowy figure manifesting beneath the fire, shouting at a broken clay statue.

Lord Clay, irritated by the ghost’s clamoring, had no choice but to answer, “Qu Lu, are you here just to summon my soul?”

“I’m neither here to summon you nor to make sport of you,” the underworld official, Qu Lu, replied, dropping his jesting tone and stating his purpose. “I’m here on official business.”

“Hasn’t the matter of the secret arts and gambling been punished already?”

“Do not be anxious, Lord Clay. You’ve already been confined for a hundred years, and haven’t divulged the secret arts since. The matter is settled. My business concerns something else.”

Lord Clay’s heart skipped a beat. Thankfully, his guardian blade-monkey was dead; otherwise, he would have yet another crime on his record.

On the roof, Ji Ming’s eyes lit up as he listened. He had been troubled by his inability to threaten Lord Clay and extract treasures from him; now, hearing the ghost’s words, it was as if a pillow had been delivered to a man weary with sleep.

Inside the temple, as the conversation unfolded, the atmosphere improved greatly.

Lord Clay summoned three or four temple mice, who brought forth fine wine and dishes, sweet melons and fruits, fragrant incense and flowers, arranging a modest feast.

Qu Lu stretched his neck, sniffing heartily at the food and drink, feeling deeply satisfied. Upon sniffing a stick of incense, his eyes widened. “This is auspicious incense! Well, Lord Clay, you truly live in abundance.”

Lord Clay smiled modestly, claiming little, though his heart bled. He had only brought out two sticks of fine incense obtained weeks ago from the Bloody Lady Priestess, not wanting to lose face before his old friend.

“If only your form weren’t confined, then with good wine and burning incense, we could play a game of chance and wager some exquisite treasures. Wouldn’t that be delightful?”

Lord Clay’s face turned bitter, and he asked kindly, “You travel outside often; is there any clever way to help me get out of confinement early?”

Qu Lu took another whiff of incense, replying with a cryptic smile, “Easy to say, hard to do.”

“Speak! Speak quickly!” urged Lord Clay.

“The Orchid Shade Sect, along with Heshan and Crane Song, are the three main sects within Valley Grain Isle. Yet, to this day, the Outer Gate Academy of Taiping Mountain, which oversees this sect, has never flourished in the Daoist arts, allowing the heterodox and unorthodox to grow powerful.”

“But Orchid Shade lies on the frontier, neighboring the great Panhu Mountain. Its pacification policies have always been well implemented—why then…”

Qu Lu signaled for Lord Clay to hold his tongue, then cautiously said, “I won’t say much else, only that Taiping Mountain has seen a change of rulers and ministers.”

Lord Clay understood, and Qu Lu continued with the main topic.

“Taiping Mountain seeks to rejuvenate the Daoist arts in Orchid Shade. Naturally, they’ll relax the difficulty of the Daoist citizen examinations. After all, to properly recruit Daoist citizens and enroll them in the Daoist registry, it’s a challenge given Orchid Shade’s remote location and its level of education. If you can lend a hand, fan the flames, wouldn’t that count as a merit in enlightenment?”

“Well said!” Lord Clay brightened at these words, sweeping away his gloom.

Inside the temple, wine flowed and the ghosts reveled, while Ji Ming atop the roof also felt pleased. For him, this was also good news, so he listened intently.

Qu Lu, seated before the array of wine and dishes, inhaled happily, but then sorrow welled up and he began to wail.

“Think of me, Qu Lu, once a Daoist citizen in the Four Sorrowful Cloud Temples of Heshan, my name recorded in the Daoist registry. Not only that, but in the realm of cultivating qi, I had opened fifty-two acupoints, allowing my essence to flow through the meridians. Yet, when death came, only my shadow body was preserved, my Daoist registry transferred to the earthly courts, making me an underworld official for the Four Sorrowful Cloud Temples.”

His lament moved Lord Clay, who knew not how to comfort him.

After a bout of mourning, Qu Lu composed himself and prepared to depart.

“The changes within Orchid Shade are not the work of a single generation. If you wish to gain merit, beware the Four Sorrowful Cloud Temples of Heshan and the Crane Song Sect of Crane Song. They are branches of Taiping Mountain, no weaker than Orchid Shade, and will surely interfere and lay claim to Orchid Shade.”

Lord Clay listened attentively. “I will remember.”

That Qu Lu would confide such grand plans of the immortal gate to him showed true loyalty.

Though Lord Clay did not know how many hands these plans had passed through, or if they were half-public already, he still made note of this favor in his heart.

He watched Qu Lu drift away, feeling quite cheerful, until he noticed a familiar bird silhouette drop from the rooftop.

“Thieving bird…”

Lord Clay was about to curse, when he saw the thieving crow lift a claw and gesture toward a temple mouse.

In the next moment, something incredible happened—the temple mouse was seized from a distance and crushed in the crow’s claw.

“Controlling…Crane…”

Lord Clay’s voice echoed clumsily through the temple.

“I’ve come not for anything else, but to thank Lord Clay for imparting martial arts and secret skills,” Ji Ming said with a smile.

Lord Clay suddenly remembered: the day the thieving bird fought the blade-monkey in the temple, it had wielded a steel blade through the air. He had assumed it was a minor skill of object manipulation, never once connecting it to the secret arts.

But even if he racked his brains, he could never have imagined a crow learning the Crane Control skill.

If news of this spread, it would be as disgraceful as mud on one’s trousers—no matter what, it would stink.

“You…are threatening me?”

For the second time, he was being threatened by a mere crow.

“Does Lord Clay truly doubt me?” Ji Ming’s voice was full of wounded innocence. “To prove my heart, should I ever display this skill in public, I will loudly proclaim, ‘It was not Lord Clay who taught me this art!’”

“Very well!” Lord Clay had no choice but to compromise. “Good crow, since you care for my reputation, how can I not repay you?”

“No!”

Ji Ming shook his head vigorously, declaring righteously, “Magic treasures and immortal elixirs—I refuse them all. Marvelous arts and profound techniques—I do not want a single one. If others find out, would I not be the very embodiment of ingratitude, a thieving bird who repays kindness with betrayal?”

Ji Ming’s upright words chilled Lord Clay to his core.

This thieving bird was truly thick-skinned and black-hearted; if he didn’t hand over some treasures today, he would never satisfy him.

Magic treasures and immortal elixirs, marvelous arts and profound techniques—how could he even say such things? If he had any of those, would he still be a gambling mountain spirit in a remote gorge?

“Speak! What exactly do you want?”