Most mortals never laid eyes on a jade coin, unless they happened to be involved in real estate or extreme luxury goods. Silk notes were a different matter entirely.

  Hand-crafted from the finest silk produced by Celestial Lunar Moth larva, and interwoven with a formation which gave each note a unique identification signature, every one was a precious work of art. In all practicality, silk notes were exclusively a currency for cultivators, and even then they were highly valued.

  Huang Jin now had seventy-five of them.

  Surely, he could be a little frivolous with just one?

  “Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice. I would like to buy your entire library. Will this be enough?” he asked the stern archivist, sliding a silk across the meeting table. The mortal fainted on the spot.

  This was not the best private archive in the city, nor even the second best. The wooden, above-ground portion was but a single story, with one basement level carved from bedrock like most of the Hallowed Rift. The interior smelled of mildew and cheap cleaning agents, sadly covering up the lovely smell of paper. The furniture bore similar signs of degradation… but the actual reading materials seemed to be up-to-date and in good shape.

  Huang Jin chose this place after briefly questioning the star-struck locals. A real second-stringer of a noble house maintained it, and they were apparently in dire financial straits. Dire enough, possibly, to sell their private library for a ludicrous sum, no questions asked.

  Indeed, after providing medical attention to the aide, that hunch proved correct. The impoverished head-of-household himself was called and, as expected, kowtowed far too many times.

  Phrases like “No, no, I am merely a wandering cultivator at the moment,” and “Yes, it’s real, you see I’m in a terrible hurry…” helped. It still took half a day to get the transaction arranged with the proper witnesses and everything.

  By late afternoon, however, Huang Jin was the proud owner of a run-down yet fully-stocked private library. Then began the work of shoveling every scrap of paper he could find into his sleeve.

  His Master lounged around on a worn, well-cushioned chair in an alcove as the prince and his dragon worked. The boy grabbed and stuffed at speeds only achievable by a cultivator. Baoshi flew about, plucking up smaller scrolls and flyers then tossing them into the all-devouring sleeve. He’d been in a terrific mood all day, delighted at not needing to hide anymore.

  “You realize, of course,” said the Master, “that this place certainly contains zero ‘mystical secrets?’ But you seemed awfully keen to get your hands on it. I promise we’re not being observed, you can speak freely.”

  Huang Jin hesitated for a moment, deciding on how best to answer. “Master… remember how you said it’d be wise, if I gave up my birthright? I think I understand, now. I’m in over my head. Way, way over my head.”

  Baoshi tipped a large, leather-bound book off of a tall shelf, and the prince had to abandon his explanation while he caught it. He continued after tucking it away, “I’ve let too much slip. I… need to take this seriously. If I go back to the palace as I am now, I’d be heading into battle unarmed. I need context. Courtly manners, recent history… There are so many things I need to relearn from first principles.”

  After a bit of searching, he found one of the things he had been most excited to look for. He held it up for his Master to see. “Look at this! Portraits of the Imperial Household. Even mortal nobles need to know them by sight! Faces I’ve forgotten, which I absolutely need to recognize at a glance. My purchase is already paying dividends!”

  The Master engaged her own sleeve to retrieve a steaming cup of tea, sipping from it as her apprentice worked. “I’d call that a fine analysis. And you’re also correct in moving it all back to the cabin, rather than schlepping around in the city for another week.” As if the thought had just occurred to her, she added, “By the way, how long do you think it’ll take you to read all of this?”

  The prince made some mental calculations, marginally slowing his pace. “I’ve grown a lot since you had me read the three thousand. I should be much faster now. And I don’t need all of this. I can leave the local genealogies, financial records, the bulk of the administrative files… I’m mostly after the cultural and historical works. So, maybe a week?”

  The Master appeared to consider this. “That’s fine. A week’s delay before we start your final exam, then. I hope you won’t mind writing me a report about your findings, especially what you can put together about the East-West war.”

  “Oh, reports are fun!” he laughed. “Is it too early to ask what my final exam will be like?”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Never! I want you to go all-out on whatever treasures you make for your pappy. That will be your final exam. Any ideas, yet?”

  The prince paused at that, though he kept his sleeve open for Baoshi to keep chucking things into. “Master… remember how, at the auction, it was the weapons that sold best?”

  “With one pretty notable exception, yeah.”

  “I think… I think I want to make a soul-damaging sword.”

  The Master put her tea aside and leaned forward in her chair, steepling her hands. “You? You, Shirley Temple with a Y chromosome, want to make a weapon that cleaves through the luminous core of the human experience.”

  “... Yes.”

  “Badass. Why?”

  Before answering, Huang Jin reflected on the events of the previous three days yet again. The remains of the executed criminals, impaled for display. The cultivators fighting carelessly on the street. The auction, the fury and power, the confrontation with his sister… they all led to one inescapable conclusion.

  “I feel like I’m standing in the eye of a storm. If I take a step in any direction, I’ll be torn apart. I… it’s not just context, or social graces,” he admitted. “I need to harden myself. I can’t just flutter my eyelashes through the stuff out here. Master, I want to become Emperor. Right now, that means making the best possible showing when I return from my Dao Journey.”

  Her next question pressed hard against his new resolve. “And what comes after that? What if, against all odds, you manage to get your tiny ass onto that fancy chair? Or cushion, or whatever they use now. What, exactly, are you going to do to make things better?”

  He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, his usual smile had returned. “I don’t know. But I want to know, and I can learn. And I care. I want to help. So, that’s what I’m going to do!” With that, he returned to gathering up the library with renewed vigor.

  The Master just shook her head. “You know, they used to say ‘the road to hell is paved with good intentions.’”

  The prince considered this. “In that case, what is the road to the Heavens paved with?”

  “In my experience? Gratuitous violence.”

  “Ha!” The laugh came out clear and bright, like the sound of a bell. The doubts didn’t feel so very heavy, now that he’d put them out in the open. “Well! I have good intentions right now, and surely there will be gratuitous violence in my future. I’ve got plenty of pavement in both directions! Where does that put me?”

  Dahe tipped her head to the side, eyes closed. With a flourish, she stowed her teacup then lifted herself to her feet. “It’s not for me to predict where you’ll end up. My job is to make sure you’re properly equipped when you get there.”

  With that, she joined in the literature-retrieval effort. She took to throwing things to him at odd angles and unexpected moments, turning it into a game. Her aid amounted to less than Baoshi’s; seemingly, it was just a way to pass the time.

  Still, the work went faster. Soon the shelves were bare, or left with only those items that their new owner didn’t see fit to pack up. Racks once bearing dozens of scrolls now stood forlorn, and every word and sound echoed harshly off of the new emptiness. It was sad, in a way. It had taken less than two hours to render the private archive virtually empty.

  The three stood together in the entrance hall, admiring their handiwork. Baoshi returned to Huang Jin’s shoulder, puffing a little but eminently satisfied. “I wonder how the Zodiac did on their end,” said the prince.

  “We’ll soon see for ourselves, unless you have some other business in the city.”

  He looked up at her, fluttering his eyelashes. “Actually… Master, do you think we could make just one more stop before we head home?”

  “Oh? What did you have in mind?”

  “Well, I want to make the best sword I possibly can. And I’ve heard good things about the temple district! I was thinking of visiting the temple of Jian Duanzao, to see what they might teach me.”

  The master put a hand to her chest in mock outrage. “Why, do you mean to tell me you wish to seek… other teachers?”

  “... Only for a little while?” After thinking for a moment, trying to gauge her reaction, he added, “You’ve mentioned that you can be wrong about some things! A visit to the temple could help me with both forging and hieromancy."

  “Fine idea, honestly,” she said, waving his concerns away. “Among the gods, I don’t think I ever actually met the guy. You might learn something unique, at that.”

  It was getting late in the day. The sun had long since set over the Rift’s rim, though once again it seemed that night never truly visited the Hallowed Rift. This, the first day post-Auction, was to be a return to the normal rhythm of life for the locals. The streets were not so brilliant with bonfires and decorative lanterns as they had been that first night. But enough shone from crystals and street lamps that it never became truly dark, either.

  The small party travelled through the grey gloom toward the temple district. Those few who still walked the streets at that hour stopped in their tracks to stare, but this was becoming routine. Baoshi wriggled with anticipation, still filled with energy despite a full and active day.

  Huang Jin reached back and gave him a soothing pat. “Come to think of it, you’ve never seen me perform hieromancy before. Prepare yourself for your first-ever religious experience!” he laughed.

  The little dragon chirped in excitement. He really did take after his creator.