Forty-nine days of a National Offering — not so short, not so long. On this particular day, He Bang opened her shell to find Ye Tian, Zhuang Shaoqin, and the others all present. She rubbed her eyes, her manner drowsy and languid: “Jade Bone, why didn’t you wake me?”

Everyone chuckled. Jade Bone hurried to support her: “I called for half an hour and you still didn’t wake up…”

Everyone had worked hard during the National Offering, and this meal was naturally a well-earned reward. Zhuang Shaoqin knew the area well and brought them to a small green-tiled pavilion with a rather unusual name: Goats Trampling Through the Vegetable Garden.

He Bang had only just woken up and was still being carried by Ye Tian, the two of them walking along side by side whispering to each other. But the moment they entered the garden, He Bang was incensed — a waiter blocked the group’s way and, seeing their distinguished bearing, was still relatively respectful: “Ah, honoured guests, our restaurant does not allow customers to bring their own ingredients — and this river clam here…”

He had apparently never seen a river clam of such size. He extended one finger to prod it, and He Bang promptly clamped down with all her force — she nearly took his finger clean off.

When the dishes were being served, He Bang was still lodging her complaint with Ye Tian, listing Yuyan Zhenren’s “crimes” one by one. The others, who ordinarily regarded Yuyan Zhenren as a venerable elder and would never dare speak a word against him, now found themselves suppressing their laughter as they stole glances and eavesdropped on her gleefully embellished account.

It was Rong Chen Zi who drew her to his side and reproached her quietly: “Stop talking nonsense!”

Jade Bone had been standing in attendance, but now that several people were seated, and Rong Chen Zi himself was right there feeding He Bang soup, she had nothing to help with. Rong Chen Zi gave a mild tilt of his chin: “Sit down — I’ve got this.”

Jade Bone dared not move, and then looked at He Bang. He Bang, as long as someone was feeding her, did not particularly care who it was. Jade Bone sat down in the place between Qingxuan and Qingsu.

The whole group then began to eat.

And He Bang very quickly discovered that the name Goats Trampling Through the Vegetable Garden was entirely misleading: “There is no lamb here at all!! Not even a single strand of wool!!”

Everyone burst out laughing. Rong Chen Zi fed her a piece of exquisitely prepared tofu skin: “This place serves only vegetarian food. I have already asked the staff to arrange something else — here, try this tofu skin…”

There they were, eating happily together — when a Daoist page boy came rushing in on the other side of the room. Before anyone could speak, he had bent down beside Zhuang Shaoqin and was whispering urgently. The more Zhuang Shaoqin heard, the more his brow furrowed, until it was knotted into a tight knot. He looked at Rong Chen Zi, and after a long moment said: “Something has happened at the palace.”

Even He Bang, who had been happily eating a flower mushroom, turned her shell to look.

Zhuang Shaoqin brought his people into the palace, naturally meeting no obstruction at any point. But the route the group took was not the road leading to the main hall. The little eunuch leading the way brought everyone through a small door at the back of the imperial palace. Rong Chen Zi carried He Bang and walked shoulder to shoulder with Zhuang Shaoqin.

What lay ahead was originally the imperial garden, but turning through an arched gateway brought them before a side hall — from its furnishings it did not appear to be anyone’s living quarters, but it was kept immaculately clean.

Rong Chen Zi was about to ask, when the eunuch looked up at Zhuang Shaoqin and, hands trembling, rotated a wall sconce to the left and then to the right. After a moment, the wall on the right gave a faint sound and revealed a small door just tall enough for a grown person.

The door was cast in bronze. The eunuch leading the way produced a key and unlocked it — and inside, to everyone’s surprise, was a secret chamber. Zhuang Shaoqin descended first along the steps, his voice calm: “It is the palace dungeon.”

Rong Chen Zi nodded with understanding. Given how many things in the palace could not be seen openly, a secret dungeon was hardly surprising.

There were no more than twenty steps on the stairway, but each one concealed a trap mechanism. Should anyone enter without authorization and trigger one of the traps at midpoint — caught in mid-air — their fate would almost certainly be grim.

In his arms, He Bang gave a yawn. Rong Chen Zi stroked her shell, his words directed at Zhuang Shaoqin: “From what I observe of this place, it is surely more than a dungeon.”

Zhuang Shaoqin glanced at him, and Rong Chen Zi immediately understood: “A dragon vein?”

The matter was of such importance that Zhuang Shaoqin dared not say more, and pressed forward.

Though set underground, the space was far from cramped. The main thoroughfare was paved with stone slabs, with prison cells on both sides — heavy bronze doors, each with a palm-sized window cut into it to observe the prisoners within. At the very bottom, an opening the size of a bowl had been made, clearly for passing through water and food.

After proceeding some distance, they passed through another iron gate, and the eunuch turned right, leading the group into a stone chamber. Inside were several stone beds, on which lay six or seven bodies, all covered from head to foot in white cloth, with not even the feet visible.

Zhuang Shaoqin saw the corpse-suppressing talismans he himself had painted on the door and knew this was not good. But when the eunuch pulled back the white cloth covering the rightmost body, Zhuang Shaoqin’s expression changed abruptly — the body’s head had been severed and lay beside the neck, drenched in blood, while the torso was filled with what was unmistakably a section of serpentine body — black with yellow markings!

Everyone was so stunned they froze: “The Crying Snake is still alive?”

Zhuang Shaoqin’s expression was also grave: “This is Minister Wen.”

The eunuch gave a trembling nod: “This morning at dawn, Minister Wen was killed in his home for reasons unknown. The family had already been frightened out of their wits — and then when they went to prepare his body, they discovered a great snake inside his torso! The snake’s head is still lodged up inside the skull. The sage Emperor commanded the body be kept here, waiting for Your Excellency the National Preceptor to come and deal with the matter. The fright this gave me, I tell you…”

Zhuang Shaoqin had no patience for his rambling: “I am informed. You may withdraw.”

Rong Chen Zi was also examining the body. He handed He Bang to Ye Tian to hold and bent down over the corpse. This Minister Wen’s name was Wen Congshu, and as it happened, Rong Chen Zi had made his acquaintance once before. He had attained the rank of Deputy Chief Minister of Governance — a second-rank official at court. In ordinary times he governed with integrity, and his reputation was good.

Rong Chen Zi put on the leather gloves that lay nearby and, undeterred by the gore, pulled the serpentine body out from inside the torso. The snake’s body was about as thick as a wrist, black with yellow markings. Zhuang Shaoqin drew his belt knife and cut at the skin and flesh — after considerable effort, he had only managed to make the shallowest of cuts.

He stood up and gave a certain nod: “It is indeed the Crying Snake — only, Minister Wen was apparently something that the Crying Snake’s egg had latched onto to develop and transform within.” He was at a complete loss: “Could it be that the real Minister Wen was killed and replaced with an impersonator?”

Rong Chen Zi was examining the severed head: “And who killed it? Looking at it, there are no other wounds, nor any sign of its having broken out from within. Who saw through its true form? And who killed it so effortlessly?”

The group remained mystified. Ye Tian stepped forward decisively: “Let me go to Minister Wen’s home and take a look.” Rong Chen Zi nodded. He Bang suddenly grabbed Ye Tian’s collar: “Tiantian, I want to go back to that vegetable garden place — I’m hungry.”

Ye Tian was also worried about He Bang going hungry, and quickly instructed Jade Bone: “Then the two of you go back to Goats Trampling Through the Vegetable Garden first — once we have dealt with things here, we will come and meet you there.”

Jade Bone gave her assent, took He Bang from Ye Tian’s arms, made her proper farewells to the company, and walked out of the stone chamber with a junior eunuch to lead her out of the palace. Once out of the palace gates, Jade Bone carried He Bang and headed in the direction of Goats Trampling Through the Vegetable Garden. Halfway there, He Bang suddenly said, in a muffled tone: “Which direction is Lingxia Mountain?”

Jade Bone was momentarily taken aback, and pointed the direction — then suddenly her vision blurred and she felt a slicing pain all over her body. She was still clutching He Bang tightly, and when she opened her eyes again she was stunned speechless: “This — this — this…”

Before her lay green mountains and clear water, birds singing and flowers sweet — unmistakably, it was exactly Lingxia Mountain. He Bang’s tone was, for once, grave: “Go to Jiuding Palace.”

Jade Bone had been reborn into a new body, with genuinely somewhat more strength than before. She quickly carried He Bang and made her way up to Jiuding Palace. The disciples guarding outside the gate saw the two of them arrive and could not help questioning them. He Bang dispensed with any fuss and simply slipped straight through the palace gate.

The first to discover them was Yuyang Zhenren — he stood with his hand on his sword, his expression furious: “Who dares intrude without leave?!”

Jade Bone had no idea what to say, and it was He Bang who reverted to human form, skipping the pleasantries entirely: “Where is Xingzhi Zhenren at present?”

Yuyang Zhenren naturally recognized her. He did put away his sword, but his tone was still unfriendly: “What does the Sea Emperor mean by this?”

At that moment, Xingzhi Zhenren was in closed cultivation. In the centre of the floor in the sealed chamber was a vast Eight Trigrams pattern. He sat cross-legged at the centre of the diagram, still as an old monk in meditation, a silver hairpin securing his hair, his Daoist robe neat and fresh.

After a moment, he suddenly opened his eyes. All he saw was a flash of fire-red at the corner of his eye. He slowly raised his head, and his pupils contracted to the size of a pinhead.

It had been so long — he had grown so unaccustomed to it that he could no longer bring himself to address him as he once had in those past years. He only said evenly: “You are indeed still alive.”

The one who had come was none other than Chunyu Lin, his body now occupied by the Crying Snake. He pinched the stalks of yarrow on the table — Xingzhi Zhenren’s divination instruments — between his fingers, and though his voice was gentle, beneath those eyes the currents ran violent and fierce: “Many years making yourself human, and you’ve even learned to betray your master and forget your loyalty.”

Xingzhi Zhenren still sat cross-legged, and strangely, the terror that had first been in his eyes faded, replaced once more by a calm and tranquil serenity: “From the day I decided to remain long in Jiuding Palace, I knew this day would come. All these years I have lived in fear and unease — but in this moment, my heart is composed.”

Chunyu Lin tightened his fingers slightly, and the yarrow stalks in his palm turned to fine powder: “Then return to me what I bestowed upon you.”

He extended his exquisite, slender fingers. Xingzhi Zhenren sat still without moving, but slowly closed his eyes.

“The Great Way has no form, yet gives birth to heaven and earth; the Great Way has no feeling, yet moves sun and moon…” The breath of death drew near, yet it was not as terrible as imagined. He recited the Qingjing Sutra, and found only clarity and brightness in his spirit.

“If,” — cool, slender fingers pressed against his face, slippery as a poisonous serpent — “if I offered you the chance to be reborn, would you not want even that?”

“There is no need. What I owe you… please take it back.” Xingzhi Zhenren opened his eyes. His power was not great — but the Crying Snake within Chunyu Lin’s body suddenly found that this little snake who had once been as worthless as an insect was no longer as insignificant as dust.

A hint of bewilderment crept into those beautiful eyes. Xingzhi Zhenren read his confusion, and smiled faintly, his expression composed and unhurried: “It was never intentional betrayal. Only — I fell in love with the feeling of being human… one can be weak, but one need not be abject.”

“Then I shall grant you your wish.” Chunyu Lin curled his fingers, one hand closing around his neck.

That hand never managed to snap Xingzhi Zhenren’s neck.

He Bang was now holding it spread across her palm, studying it carefully. The malevolence in Chunyu Lin’s voice faded strangely into something calmer: “What is the Emperor looking at?”

He Bang stroked gently along the lines that spread across her palm, and after a long while said quietly: “I am grieving. These two hands — I spent over three hundred years teaching them to cultivate the Scorching Sun Arts, and found the most learned scholar in all the Eastern Sea to teach them to write. They could prepare the most delicious food in the whole sea domain.” Her gaze finally lifted from the intertwined lines between those five fingers: “And yet you used them to tear unborn children from the womb, gouge out the hearts and lungs of others, and wring people’s necks.”

Chunyu Lin sighed softly. When he sighed, it was as though even the blazing sun lost its brilliance, shifting with his mood into shadow: “The Emperor still lingers in the past — but the past has passed.”

He Bang quietly released his hand, but used the moment, without leaving any trace, to quietly interpose herself between him and Xingzhi Zhenren: “Has your power finally grown sufficient to stand against Daozong?”

Chunyu Lin’s voice held a smile: “Daozong is nothing more than a rabble of rats — what is there to fear? But the Emperor is a person of great worth, and ought to keep well clear.”

He Bang also let out a small laugh: “If I refused to let you kill him, would we have to come to blows here today?”

Chunyu Lin tilted his lips in a mildly helpless smile: “The Emperor truly ought not to meddle in these things. But since this is the Emperor’s wish, naturally I can only comply.”

And he truly turned and walked away. Jade Bone called out softly: “Master.”

He glanced back, radiant and resplendent, full of grace and charm.

After he left, He Bang fixed her gaze on Jade Bone and said quietly: “Go after him. Tell it that this dynasty’s dragon vein lies beneath the imperial garden, behind the dungeon.”

Jade Bone was filled with uncertainty and doubt. She was beginning to share the same bewilderment that had once troubled the three-eyed snake who had impersonated her — Mistress, whose side are we actually on?!

But she dared not disobey He Bang. She went after him at once.

Only two people remained in the sealed chamber. Xingzhi Zhenren came back to himself, his voice returned to steadiness: “How did the Sea Emperor know I was a Crying Snake transformed through borrowed breath?”

He Bang sat down on his meditation mat: “You gave yourself away in many places. Every time you hunted down a Crying Snake you dragged your feet — whenever Zhuang Shaoqin and Chunyu Lin were with you, somehow not a single three-eyed snake was ever caught.”

Xingzhi Zhenren’s pupils contracted slightly: “Just from those things, you concluded I was the Crying Snake?”

“Oh, that’s not it.” He Bang shook her head, and let slip an expression bordering on sly: “When the Crying Snake and I signed our divine-demonic contract, I used the Dream Grass to take a casual look around, and saw the contract between you and it — and there was no expiry date on it either.”

…

Jade Bone returned, still lingering in grief, and upon hearing this very nearly stumbled — no wonder this creature had been trapped in that mountain for several thousand years… carelessness really does kill snakes…

He Bang’s lunch was supposed to be hosted by Yuyang Zhenren — since He Bang had saved his elder martial brother, after all. He Bang sat happily at the table waiting for a full quarter of an hour. When the dishes were finally served, the greater the hope, the greater the disappointment — she wailed and burst into tears: “Wuwuwu, I want to go back to that vegetable garden place! Xingzhi, you miser, you stinking Crying Snake! I’m going to tell Zhiguan on you! Have you boiled in a pot! Drink your snake gallbladder…wuwuwu…”

Yuyang Zhenren was frantic, scratching his head, unable to calm her down no matter what he tried. In the end it was Jade Bone who produced two fried chicken wings to coax her: “All right, all right, let’s go back — there will definitely be good things to eat over there.”

Yuyang Zhenren still had no idea where he had gone wrong. Jade Bone carried the great grey river clam, now back in her original form, and could barely contain her reaction: “Ah… my mistress does not eat vegetarian food.”