Jintian had been led through the second archway, down a long corridor that eventually opened into a hot spring. It was a decently sized area, small smooth pebbles framing a walkway that led to the spring itself. Steam curled from it in a thick, leisurely fashion, while a small huangshan pine tree drooped over it, shading a corner of the spring.
The youth bade Jintian farewell, reminding him that he had only purchased two hours in the hot spring. Jintian rolled his eyes, and the youth lifted a screen door to provide him some privacy.
As Jintian stripped down and slowly eased himself into the spring, the scent of medicinal herbs and steam tickled his nose. He winced as the lacerations in his side burned slightly. Kang Shanxi had told him he would heal faster as a cultivator, but the gashes were still deep enough to sting in the water.
Finally, though, the heat seeped through his skin, warming him to his very bones. He let out a contented sigh, letting himself float slightly in the water. He looked up at the pine tree, its needled leaves swaying slightly beneath the steam.
He had visited a hot spring exactly once before in his life, nearly six years ago when a hunt had taken him and his father Shen Anjia deep into the mountains. They had stumbled across it by pure chance, and had taken the opportunity to enjoy it.
"Earnest, hardworking men are allowed to rest like this only once in a while." His father had advised. "So it is best to enjoy these moments while you can. That, and your mother would beat us senseless if she found out we did this without her, so it shall remain between us!"
Jintian smiled at the memory, though the smile dimmed when he remembered he had resolved to take Xiacheng there as well, someday. Sighing, he closed his eyes, losing himself once more in the warmth of the spring.
After his two hours had ended, Jintian rose from the water, circulating his Qi within himself and letting the droplets still on him melt into steam. He then looked down at his wounded side, and was surprised to see that it had healed significantly. While the wounds had not disappeared entirely, there was a noticeable growth of pink skin closing around its edges.
"I guess spending that spirit stone wasn't too bad." He mused, before pulling out a fresh pair of robes from his bag of holding and donning them. Thoroughly refreshed, he fixed his new bag of holding at his hip, pulled his walking stick free, and left the spring behind him.
He took a few minutes to browse the magical items the pavilion offered for sale. There was a cultivator who meditated within the large hall the items were housed in, and from the powerful Qi he had felt emanating from the man, Jintian figured he was there to ensure no cultivators let greed overtake their reason. Jintian had then studied the price of the magical items, and nearly fainted from the shock.
The items ranged from seemingly ordinary to truly spectacular, but even the cheapest among them were priced in the upper ranges of several thousand spirit stones. One item, a flag that had moving storm clouds embroidered on its tapestry, cost nearly fifty thousand spirit stones! He had needed to rub his eyes to be sure he was counting the zeroes properly, before quickly retreating from where he clearly had no business being.
"Heavens." He murmured to himself, still feeling faint as he thought about the sheer amount of wealth he had seen. "And this is only a small town's spirit pavilion. What would Shan'an…" He shuddered, struck by too much fright to even finish the thought.
He took his leave from the pavilion, glancing back at it as he clenched his fist tightly around his walking stick. To forge an item worth tens of thousands of spirit stones… he now understood why Kang Shanxi had seemed so eager to press upon him the importance of his future profession.
Jintian walked through the town, daydreaming of the day when he too would possess such vast amounts of wealth. Now that he was clean once more, and no longer carrying the hulking corpses of demonic beasts, he did not draw nearly as much attention from the residents of Guipi Zhen.
Rather, it seemed something else was drawing their attention instead.
He was pulled out of his daydreaming as he noticed a large crowd gathering ahead of him. He scanned the crowd with his spiritual sense but remained unable to see what might have drawn their attention.
Curious, he approached a large man standing near the back of the crowd. "What is all of this commotion about?" He asked, and the man turned to look at him, a bright smile on his face.
"You must have not heard the news. They say that Senior Huang Ruifeng will be playing in this tavern soon!" He exclaimed, his gruff appearance completely at odds with the near boyish excitement he was exuding. Jintian looked at him with surprise.
"Huang Ruifeng?" He asked, and the man nodded emphatically.
"Apparently a cultivator saved him from a near death experience. He's stated he has been struck with inspiration, and will even be performing a new original piece tonight!" He said, before turning away from Jintian to return his attention to the tavern.
Jintian processed this for a few moments, before once more tapping the man on the shoulder. He turned back to look at him, this time a hint of annoyance on his features.
"Huang Ruifeng, he is famous?" He asked incredulously, and the man stared at him for a few moments.
"You must not be from around here." He realized. "He is renowned even as far as Shan'an. He has received countless offers to be the City Lord's personal musician, but has always refused, saying that artists must remain as free as the wind. Ai, now that's a real musician for you." He shook his head, this time patting Jintian on the shoulder. "I tell you young man, if you are only passing through here, you must listen to him perform at least once. It may very well change your life."
Jintian was a bit skeptical about that. Li Liuwen had always been the music enthusiast between them. While he of course enjoyed the songs played in the taverns he visited while in Chenghe, it had always been merely a pleasant background to his main focus in the establishment.
Seeing his doubt, the man turned away from him again with a scoff. "You'll see." He said dismissively, paying him no further mind.
Jintian frowned, but after considering for a few moments, decided to join the crowd in their waiting. The man had offered him a free meal and a drink, after all, and who was he to pass that up?
Besides, he had saved Ruifeng's life, so he was at least a little bit curious about his fame.
The sun was beginning to set anyways, so what would be the harm in delaying his journey by just a few more hours?
A few minutes later, a man pushed his way out from the building. He was large and had the thick beard and belly of a man who was no stranger to work. The crowd immediately broke into shouting as he emerged from the tavern, and he frowned.
"Alright, you animals, I'll open here in just a moment!" He shouted over them, and the crowd settled somewhat, waiting anxiously. "Now, there's a few rules. First, there are to be no song requests from Senior Huang Ruifeng. Whatever he decides to play is what you'll listen to! Second, you must purchase at least two drinks every hour you are here. Stop buying, and you will stop listening, as you will be not so kindly asked to leave. And lastly… is there a Shen Jintian here!? Shen Jintian!? Hello!?"
Jintian stepped forward, waving a hand. He was a striking figure among the crowd, his light blue robes and fair appearance a deep contrast to the working men and wives around him. The man who had explained the situation to him had his mouth agape, clearly wondering why he would be asked for by name.
At his approach, the tavern owner smiled. "Shen Jintian?" He asked, looking him up and down, and Jintian nodded. "Excellent, excellent. Senior Huang Ruifeng regrets to inform you that he will be unable to bid you farewell, as he will be playing for most of the night and then rest for his departure in the morning. But your seat has been reserved, and you will have as much food and drink as you wish."
Jintian blinked in surprise, as the crowd immediately began to whisper amongst themselves, wondering as to his identity. Jintian heard it all, of course, but he only smiled as the man gestured for him to enter the tavern.
Upon entering the building, he found that it was surprisingly rather spacious.. There were a multitude of seats packed together, while a small stage had been set up near the back of the tavern. Its curtains were currently drawn, so he was unable to see it in full. But he could hear muffled voices and laughter coming from behind the curtains.
A pretty young girl approached him, a smile on her face. "Senior Shen Jintian?" She asked, and he nodded. The girl bowed slightly, gesturing towards a table near the stage. "If you follow me, I will lead you to your seat. Would you like anything to eat or drink?"
He thought for a few moments, before his stomach rumbled, answering the question for them both. She giggled slightly, covering her mouth with a hand while a flush of embarrassment reached Jintian's face. He followed the girl to the seat, and she bowed again, taking her leave.
After another minute or so, the other patrons were allowed inside. Soon the entire tavern was filled with excited chatter, while servers bussed between the tables to take orders or bring drinks. Jintian himself had a small plate placed in front of him with a cut of meat and a bowl of rice, as well as a bottle of baiju. The same girl who had greeted him smiled as she placed it down on his table.
"If you need another bottle, please wave your hand, and I will bring it to you." She said, and he smiled as he nodded.
"Thank you." He said, and she left to cater the other patrons.
Soon the noise around him had reached a low roar, as excitement and anticipation built towards its peak as drinks were finished and food was eaten. Jintian himself had no desire to get drunk, so he only occasionally sipped from the bottle that had been placed in front of him. It was a rather delicious flavor of baiju, tasting of spiced citrus, and he was grateful that he had saved Huang Ruifeng's life, if only for the fact that he got to drink it.
Just when it felt as though the crowd's anticipation could not grow any more fervent, a man strode onto the stage. He wore loose, pink robes, and to Jintian's surprise he sensed that the man was a cultivator. Only in the First Circle, but that he was part of this performance spoke volumes of its prestige.
Jintian briefly wondered why Huang Ruifeng had not told him of his fame, but put such thoughts away as a hush gathered over the crowd.
"For the next five hours," the man said, his voice clear yet soft, "you will all experience snippets of the lives of those from a land far from here. From the heart-racing story of a man saved from a titan of a beast by a brave Immortal, to the heart break of forbidden love denied its fruition, you will live these lives through the only way possible to experience them. Through music."
At his last word he waved a hand, and every lantern within the tavern went dark, save solely for the two that lit the stage. The man vanished, seemingly into thin air, and the curtains slowly opened.
Jintian was impressed. It was a simple effect, extinguishing the lanterns with Qi, but the theatrics of it left a particularly strong impression. While he wasn't sure of the applicable usefulness of it, he still filed it away for his own possible use in the future.
When the curtains opened, a layer of mist curled upwards from the stage. The lanterns revealed only the dark silhouette of a man holding an erhu, while a voice drifted over the crowd.
"In the Forest of Dreams, a man searched for a Seven Colored Lily, to save his beloved from the terrible illness that had befallen her." The voice said, captivating and grand in its severity. "He had traveled for many days and many nights, braved trial and tribulation, until finally he saw it. Growing in the middle of a spiritual lake, it waved in the breeze, delicate and beautiful."
A low, heart breakingly soft note began to play in the air. Within the mist, seven colors swirled through it, to gather into the shape of a dancing lily.
"The man, caught in his joy at finding the flower, hurriedly leapt into the lake to gather it. But in his excitement, he had forgotten the most important thing." The voice continued, and suddenly the sorrowful note grew sharp, almost piercing. Within the mist, a dark shape swam around the lily. "The Seven Colored Lily was guarded by a great demonic koi!"
Jintian involuntarily jumped as the mist exploded upwards, water droplets sprinkling onto him. He then chuckled, shaking his head as he realized that with only two notes, he had been drawn in completely. He had never seen a performance such as this, and the crowd's gasps around him mirrored his sentiment.
"The man was swallowed whole, his journey seemingly coming to an end, his beloved left to her fate. However, in the darkest pit of his despair…" The sharp note suddenly grew softer, warmer, brighter. It shown with hope, as a radiant light pierced through the darkness of the demonic koi. "An Immortal arrived, and split the beast's belly open, saving him!"
Jintian heard a few relieved sighs around him. The story continued, the tale of the Immortal and the hero one of many twists and turns. It concluded with the hero returning to the side of his beloved, brewing the potion, and saving her life. The music had sprang to life, filled with energy and adventure, while the mist churned and seethed with colors and shapes to provide a truly immersive experience.
When it finally concluded, nearly a full hour had passed, and the crowd applauded as the curtains closed. Jintian himself had long finished his drink, but did not ask for another.
The performance had truly been one of the most impressive things Jintian had witnessed. While not life changing, as the man from the crowd had claimed, he certainly could now see why Huang Ruifeng had earned his fame.
Jintian let the performance linger in his mind for a few minutes, before standing to leave. However, before he could fully rise from his seat, the curtains opened once again.
"Mother." A voice whispered, quiet, somber, but still with a telltale crack of youth to it. "I am… I am sorry. I was not strong enough to protect you. But with this life you saved, at the cost of your own, I will avenge you. On my name, on my love for you, I swear it! Blood will shower the earth like rain, and your name shall be the last thing your murderer hears!"
A note drifted through the air, this one of distinct sorrow. It settled heavily on Jintian's shoulders, squeezing his lungs ever so slightly and pushing him back down into his seat. He looked towards the stage in a daze, the mist dark and dreadful.
"In the ruins of his past life, this young man swore his blood oath." The narrator said, his voice deep and darkly grand. "His path would be paved with slaughter, chaos and bloodshed, the very stones of his road laid with the bodies of the lives he would reap. He would burn everything to the ground. Everything. For his mother. For his vengeance!"
Jintian sat, transfixed, as the note turned shrill and ominous, like a scream that tore through the very person who voiced it.
Like his scream, when he had found his family murdered.
The note drifted into silence, before slowly another replaced it. Soft. Gentle. Almost heartbreaking in its tranquility, contrasted against the sheer rage and grief the previous note had contained.
"The boy had lived an ordinary life, as an ordinary farm boy. He had never known his father, nor had he ever felt the need to." The voice began its tale. "He lived with his mother, and though they were poor, he had never been anything but content. For he had everything he could have ever wished for. But, one dreadful night, that changed."
The music turned dark once more, the mist churning with flashes of white like thunder in a storm. "A furious storm crashed through the boy's town. And with it, came the man who would change his life forever."
"The boy was fast asleep, while his mother sat in their living room, sewing closed the holes in his shoes. But with a crash of thunder and lightning, the door to their home was broken open, and a man swept inside. His voice was thunder, his fury lightning, and his blade flashed with the force of the tempest outside! The boy woke with a start, and ran out to the living room to find the man cutting his mother down!"
The music was deafening, as wild and furious as a storm. "The boy grabbed the poker from the heart, and leapt upon the man with a wild cry. However, the man was clearly experienced with the sword, and easily disarmed the boy. He slashed him across the chest, wounding the child. In her last moments, with what little strength she could muster, the mother leapt upon the man and screamed for the child to run. He resisted, but after her repeated cries, finally ran into the night, soon lost in the storm."
The music drifted downwards, its wild frenzy settling into a deeper tone. Jintian knew it not by the note, but by the feeling it evoked from him, the memory of it pulled from his mind.
Running through the forest. A desperate, agonizing dash. Only to find Wu Mingjie standing between him, his mother, and safety.
Despair.
"When the boy returned, he found his mother dead. He held her in his arms and wept. Until he swore his oath, swore his vengeance. He did not have a name, or a direction, but he had seen a crest upon the man's robes. The crest of royalty. The man had belonged to the king of their land!"
With a flourish, the music kicked upwards once more, the mist swirling upward into the shape of a sword. "The boy found a master who would train him, after spending many days and nights climbing a mountain he had heard the man lived in. The master, seeing his determination and impressed with his ability to survive the mountain, agreed to take him as a disciple. For years he persisted, his skill with the sword improving while his hatred sharpened into the blade he was becoming. Until finally, after nearly fifteen years, he was able to best his master in a duel."
"His master claimed that with his skill, he would undoubtedly become the greatest swordsman the land had ever seen. But he begged his disciple to relinquish his vengeance. He had seen the hatred in the boy's heart, and knew that if he were to unleash it, he very well may become something far worse than he could imagine. But the swordsman said he could never forget his hatred. It had become as much a part of him as his love for his mother. The master, seeing that he would not turn back from his wicked path, felt sorrow in his heart. And he turned his back on the swordsman, stating that so long as he followed his hatred, he could never return again as his disciple."
The music ached with the parting of master and disciple, a long note playing as the mist formed the shape of a man turning away from his only remaining family.
"True to his word, the swordsman set out to enact his revenge. Blood showered the earth like rain, and after many, many months of battle and hardship, the swordsman found his mother's killer at last. He was the personal guard of the king himself, though he had long been given retirement to manage land of his own as a member of aristocracy. WIth his dying breath, he told the swordsman something that shocked him completely. The reason he had slain the swordsman's mother! It was, in the end, all due to the fact that she had given birth to him. For he was… the king's bastard son!"
Jintian heard gasps in the crowd, while he himself felt almost dizzy as the music once more launched into mad frenzy. Throughout the tale, he could only hear Xingyue's voice, playing in his mind without end.
A mountain of corpses. Oceans of blood. And the world… burned.
"The swordsman immediately set out, driven half-mad from this news. He slaughtered his way into the king's palace, but along the way was grievously wounded. Just before he could complete his vengeance, he was intercepted by the king's legitimate son, his own half-brother, the prince! Though the swordsman was more skilled than the prince, the wounds he suffered from proved too much, and the prince bested him in their battle. Just as he was about to be slain, however, he managed to flee from the palace, diving into the river and carried by it far, far downstream."
The shrill, frenzied notes finally calmed, replaced by a long, droning sound that could only be described as failure.
"A search was immediately launched for him by the prince, but even after many months, no trace of the swordsman could be found. Finally, he concluded that the mysterious swordsman must have succumbed to his wounds, and perished within the river. But what was unknown to him, was that the swordsman survived! He had been found half-dead by a village girl, who took him in and nursed him to health. Too weak to immediately resume his war, he instead lived in the village with the girl. For the first time since his mother had been killed, he finally found peace. He and the girl fell in love, and for a time, it seemed like he may have found an answer for what his life could be, without vengeance."
The music became one of longing, of blissful, fleeting happiness. Of a future that could have been. But, just like all things, it faded into loss.
"But the hatred in his heart could never be settled. His beloved begged him to let go, to forget his quest and to live with her. Just like his master, she too could see that the hatred in his heart would twist him into something inhuman, if he continued down the wicked path. But he could not listen to her. And after the months living the life he could never truly belong to… he once again set out on his path of vengeance."
The song kicked upwards, the mist staining with a slowly darkening red. "He once again slaughtered his way into the palace. This time, however, he was prepared for all of the defenses, and once again stood in front of the prince, uninjured and more deadly than ever. The prince pleaded with him, demanded to know what had been done to earn the hatred of such a powerful swordsman. But he did not answer with his words. Instead, he revealed his hidden face, and the prince knew at once what the only reason could be."
"Despair overtook him, yet the prince stood bravely against the swordsman. Their duel was fierce, and yet… the prince could not best him, as he had before. The swordsman was too strong, too fast, too skilled. And in their last fateful clash, he slew the prince, taking his head to deliver to his father."
"At last, the swordsman stood before the reason for his hatred, the reason for his endless sorrow. The king did not beg for his life, for he knew it would be no use. Instead, he asked that the swordsman spare his son, unaware that he had already been killed. And the swordsman tossed the head of his beloved prince into his arms. The king wept, finally overcome with the same grief and loss that the swordsman had been consumed by for the entirety of his life. And only then, did he slay his father the king."
"But in his quest for revenge, he had killed many. Their deaths stained his soul, and had driven him mad. His vengeance was complete, and yet the hatred did not leave him. It instead twisted him into something grotesque and inhuman. In the end, both what his master and his beloved had feared came true. The swordsman… became a demon!"
The mist parted to reveal the hideous, blood red mask of a demon, its face ugly and deformed, horns growing from its temples. Jintian was panting, his heart over his chest as the music drew into one last, sorrowful note.
"On a mountain far away, a young boy climbed towards its peak, day and night. He had heard of a master who would be able to train him. His heart was filled with hatred, towards a demon swordsman who had slain his father." The voice said quietly, the music sonorous and fragile. "He had sworn an oath, for his father. That blood would shower the earth like rain. That his father's name would be the last thing the demon swordsman would hear. And so the wheel of vengeance turned, endless, unceasing."
The music faded into silence, while the crowd erupted into applause. Jintian's ears were ringing, and he jumped to his feet, shouldering his way forcefully through the crowd as he fled from the tavern.
Finally he burst free from its doors, ignoring the crowd of people outside who were eagerly awaiting entry. He gasped for air, the music unrelenting in his mind, the face of the demon in the mist visible whenever he closed his eyes.
He grit his teeth, his fists clenched so tightly that they trembled. He glared back at the tavern, his heart filled with venom.
"And what would you know of it." He spat, screwing his eyes shut before turning around and storming away.
But he could not forget the mask in the mist. Because, for just the briefest moment…
He had thought he saw his own face staring back at him from it.