Chapter 1: Prologue: Zhou Fang I

It was a cold Autumn morning, the very air pervading the Zhou Sect's gardens sweet with the fragrance of Star Asters and Chrysanthemums intermingled, albeit harsh with the searing nip of Winter, felt only keener due to the sudden absence of Summer, and Zhou Fang could not help but contemplate recent events.

 

In a mere few years, a time span that registered as no more than a blink of an eye to the Zhou Matriarch, the Zhou Sect had lost countless battles for control of Dunhuang City to the Liu Sect.

 

Short–lived, superficial and sporadic in nature, the clash between the two, a mockery of true battle, had nevertheless a profound effect on the city's inhabitants.

 

It changed the way business and pleasure was conducted in the city, altered everyone's understanding of the power behind the curtains, and after all was said and done, Zhou Fang could not blame anyone but herself.

 

Liu Sect's Branch Mistress, for she was not even the Matriarch of her clan, was a cultivator in the Renegade Realm.

 

Zhou Fang, in contrast, was on the Ninth Step, the outermost, of the Heavenly Realm.

 

A paltry Step is the difference between Zhou Fang and Liu Jing, almost nothing in the grand scheme of things, yet reality dictates it to be far greater than even the disparity between Heaven and Earth.

 

It is a harrowing experience, the realization that all she had fought for, all that her ancestors had created, was no more. The prestige and respect the citizens of Dunhuang had so long afforded the Zhou Sect by virtue of their strength and leadership, is now all but gone.

 

Were she not a cultivator in the Heavenly Realm, a master of the mind and self, Zhou Fang would have exploded in a frothing rage at the thought, casting down friend and foe alike in bitter resentment.

 

Even so, a sliver did escape her grasp, her Qi rising to untold levels as fear blanketed her surroundings, causing the servants tending to the flowers around her inconsolable agony.

 

Fortunately, it was not her prerogative, the trials and tribulations she faced, personal and paramount to her standing as a cultivator in the Heavenly Realm, as well as those nuisances borne out of her duty as Matriarch, enforcing her desire to stay calm and level–headed, thereby ending her servants' torture.

 

Zhou Fang did not pay them any heed.

 

A striking figure, even amongst the women of her Sect, Zhou Fang sported the dark chestnut hair that characterized many of her clan. Although unlike her clan, Zhou Fang's eyes colour weren't the common green emeralds, boasted by so many as the prettiest colour in all of Dunhuang, instead coalescing into a far darker shade, one reminiscent of her father's deep burgundy.

 

It was another thing that set her apart from the others, and Zhou Fang is aware that many considered her dark shade of eyes a foretelling of the kind of woman she would become later in life.

 

In hindsight, Fang could not consider them wrong, content to merely use her appearance as another tool in her armoury in her bid for power.

 

It has been a long time since such a thought crossed her mind and Zhou Fang grinned at the memory, cognizant of the fact this was nothing more than a distraction.

 

One, she had created herself.

 

The task before her truly was daunting if her subconscious mind had chosen to remind her of the lengths she had gone to in her quest for power. Although this time, there was no doubt in Zhou Fang's mind a mere misstep would find her and her entire Sect dead, the legacy of the Zhou Sect eradicated from this world forever.

 

Returning to the task at hand, Zhou Fang remembered a particular lesson she had as a child, one most pertinent to the task before her.

 

It had been Summer and Zhou Fang, only fourteen years old at the time, was already on the Second Step of the Spirit Realm.

 

The Elders had called her a prodigy amongst prodigies for it, the jewel of Dunhuang City, and young Zhou Fang had foolishly taken it to heart.

 

It would be a little more than a century later that Zhou Fang would come to understand how wrong they were. How dangerous their rose–tinted philosophies could be.

 

But back then she was the wunderkind of the Zhou Sect, a girl that fought against Inner Disciples twice her age and won. It was why the lesson was so memorable for her, for the subject had been none other than besting an opponent greater in strength.

 

She, who had not seen a girl younger than sixteen reach the Spirit Realm, was expected to consider the possibility of a mightier opponent.

 

How laughable it had all seemed.

 

But even then, Zhou Fang knew it was the opposite that was far more likely, unable to appreciate the histories of the cases the Elder had shown her. She had thought them to be no more than a fluke, exceptions that depicted the rule rather than actual lessons fit for consumption. It is why instances where it happened were so memorable, she reasoned, the inversion of expectation shining ever so brighter in the dim of life.

 

Now, she cannot help but grieve for that young girl, for she had not been wrong, and for the very first time in her life, Zhou Fang wished she had not been named Eldest. That her bid for power had not placed her as Matriarch of the Zhou Sect at such a crucial time, the reality before her enough to break whatever notion of grandeur persisted in her old age.

 

Born out of self-pity, or perhaps the direct result of the surrounding Spirit flowers known to many as Star Asters, Zhou Fang mulled over her past mistakes, her eyes tracing the horizon as her mind soared over her great city.

 

She could vividly recall the day the Liu Sect entered Dunhuang, nigh on five years ago. MDCCLII days to be exact.

 

After all, to a cultivator on the Ninth Step in the Heavenly Realm, the mind is a palace of which every memory is accessible, every thought written in stone, for better or for worse.

 

It had been the MMCLVII year of the Huáng Dynasty's reign over the Jade Serpent Empire, a relatively inconsequential year to the Great Powers, and yet, the Empress, Huáng Xiang, may her reign last for a thousand generations, had decreed a decrease on the Imperial Tax on Luxury Goods.

 

A minor, almost trivial matter at best, one that did not even hold for items borne of Spirit Beasts and their ilk, it nevertheless was an unprecedented event in the entire lifespan of the great Huáng Dynasty and was intended as an attempt to stimulate further economic growth.

 

That is all that it had been.

 

That was all that was needed to bring about her downfall.

 

A meager seven per cent reduction on Imperial Tax of Luxury Items throughout the Jade Serpent Empire.

 

With it, the Dunhuang region, home to small deposits of Hematite, a mineral used for pigmentation and dyes and considered to be the lion's share and foundation of the Zhou Sect's exports, suddenly became a little more lucrative and therefore worthy of a more powerful Sect's interest.

 

Although nothing so grand so as to draw the eyes of one of the Four, it nevertheless drew unwanted attention. Unwanted attention that manifested in the Liu Sect opening a Branch House inside the city, one whose Mistress was on the same cultivation Step as Zhou Fang herself.

 

The Ninth Step of the Heavenly Realm.

 

Were it any other Step beneath her, even that of the Eighth, Zhou Fang would have stopped at nothing to destroy them, even if it meant risking the Main Branch's ire.

 

She was honor bound to do so.

 

Moreover, should the Main Branch of the Liu Sect been beset by a more powerful foe in their principal city, Zhou Fang would have stopped at nothing to ensure the two warred, leaving the Minor Branch of the Liu Sect in her city isolated and prime for the taking.

 

Unfortunately, neither of these two conditions were met, and Zhou Fang hesitated to act.

 

In time, she would come to acknowledge it as her greatest mistake.

 

A bright glare from the Autumn sun, reflected off of the koi pond at her feet, pulling her from her melancholic thoughts and Zhou Fang found herself smiling as her eyes instinctively traced the modest figure of a young boy running after her great niece, the fact the boy was a son of what could only be summarized as a glorified servant doing nothing to hamper her grin.

 

It had been too long since she had seen a boy amongst her household, she thought, wishing herself young again and in the passionate throes of teenage infatuation.

 

Then, at least, she would not have to deal with such an impossible situation, bereft of any allies to call upon as the noose around her neck tightened further every day.

 

But the sight of the lone child quickly reminded her of better days, ones when the Zhou Sect had been the epicenter for the young boys of Dunhuang, a place where they could stay safe in the knowledge they graced the presence of the most powerful cultivator in the city, and that no harm could befall them.

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The differences were too stark, too vast, it reminded her of others, the air of dolefulness returning and with it a presence that made it harder for the women around her to breathe.

 

Where once her House had been talked about in fear and admiration, now it is no longer the case, and where once failure to contribute, from even an opposing House, would have seen the mutinous faction relinquished of their assets and men, now even subordinate Houses' failure does not garner such a punishment, for fear of alienating them away, straight towards the waiting hands of the Liu Sect.

 

These days it is only tradition that holds Zhou Sect's control over most parts of the city, and it is quickly eroding, the promise of an alliance with a stronger Sect more than enough to tempt even the most steadfast of the Zhou Sect's allies.

 

In essence, it is very simple. Should Liu Jing of the Liu Sect ever wish to wage war on the Zhou Sect, the aftermath would not bode well for Fang. Would not bode well at all.

 

It is thus quite fortunate that by entering the Renegade Realm, Liu Jing relinquished her hold as Mistress of the Liu Sect and dropped all her earthly concerns, beginning a journey that would find her entering the Emperor Realm or die trying, for no one would dare house a cultivator in the Renegade Realm inside their home, especially one in the immediate aftermath of a breakthrough.

 

Tales as old as time tell of the consequences of a Renegade's rage, one so easily brought on it is cursed as akin to madness, and while some say men of familial bonds have been known to have a soothing effect on even the most aggravated of Renegades, the threat the woman poses is too great for such action to be commonplace.

 

Yet the audacity of it all never failed to rattle her.

 

It spoke of profound contempt aimed at her, the fact that Liu Jing did not even bother waiting for a suitable replacement from the Main Branch before she suffered a breakthrough, her action leaving her entire Branch in the malevolent hands of Zhou Fang, once again the most powerful cultivator in the city.

 

It spoke of a conviction so absolute she, Liu Jing, had no doubt whatsoever she would finish the journey and ascend to the Emperor Realm, and thus did not need protection for her Branch, for whatever Zhou Fang would do to them, Liu Jing would pay unto her a thousandfold, given time.

 

That is the certainty needed before one ascends the Heavenly Realm, for anything lower would see you dead before nightfall.

 

It is why many across the Jade Serpent Empire have reached the Ninth Step of the Heavenly Realm, and yet very few Emperors exist.

 

Oddly enough, there are even less Renegades than Emperors in the Jade Serpent Empire, for the path truly is perilous, prone to quickly killing those unfortunate enough it deemed unfit. It is therefore why the longer one stays inside the Renegade Realm, the more likely she will come out the other end. 

 

Frustrated with herself, with the impetuousness of the Elders of Zhou Sect that called her to strike at the Liu Sect while the iron still burned hot, as if she was no more than a babe to not have considered it, Zhou Fang cursed the Gods for withholding a son from her.

 

Indeed, a large part of Zhou Fang's melancholy stemmed from the fact she had yet to bear a son, and while that is by no means a rarity amongst the general population, should such a thing happen all of the Zhou Sect's problems would inevitably fade away.

 

The only aid the Gods gave womankind is the fact that as one rises higher amongst the cultivation tree, the easier it is for her to birth a boy who is a cultivator himself. For Zhou Fang, a cultivator on the Ninth Step of the Heavenly Realm, it is twice as likely, compared to a woman in the Foundational Realm, the lowest of all cultivation realms.

 

Still, even double the likelihood is still a very small chance, for while a boy is born for every nine girls, on average, male cultivators numbers less than Emperors in the Jade Serpent Empire, of which there are no more than half a dozen score.

 

Yet nevertheless, even a boy void of any cultivation would be a tremendous boon for Zhou Fang, for while few are the Sects who do not care to barter with the Zhou Sect for their dyes, even fewer are the ones who would care to form an alliance with them.

 

There is something inexplicably profound about an alliance through blood that allows even a bitter pill such as a foe in the Renegade Realm to be overlooked. It is a fact of life Zhou Fang had long since grown to despise.

 

But even so, while the possibility of an alliance, as tempting as it may sound, may be far out of her reach, and ensuring the Liu Sect face a battle on two fronts seems so as well, there lie other opportunities in which one can go about battling a stronger opponent.

 

Of that, she has no doubt.

 

None of which, unfortunately, are in any way easier or more palatable to her.

 

Sensing eyes upon her, a detail she ignored for the past few minutes hoping they would go away, Zhou Fang swerved her head to meet her husband's gaze, her face showing nothing of her inner turmoil.

 

"Yes?"

 

"Matriarch, this lowly one before you asks that you come inside and rest. It is a cold morning and I do not wish to see you suffer for our servants' negligence."

 

A quiet gasp echoed amidst the handmaiden staff surrounding her, those who heard him stooping so low as to glare his way before they realized they had done so in the presence of the Matriarch herself and quickly moved to rectify their behavior, hiding their true feelings behind a thin veil of disinterest, their eyes spelling far more than they would ever like known.

 

For Zhou Fang it was yet another show of disobedience, another symptom of the Liu Sect's havoc on the natural order of things, albeit one she did not mind as much for it amused her.

 

The fact she had not picked her third husband for his brains was clearly evident, and Zhou Fang chided herself for her capriciousness, ruminating on the ingredients necessary for one such as herself to even consider marriage to such a man.

 

Desperation and childish lust were clearly only two of them.

 

"My dear husband, how old is it you think I am?"

 

That got him more than a little flustered, his eyes tracing the flowers surrounding her with zealous intent.

 

It was a pity she had so many things on her plate this conversation became a detriment, for Zhou Fang had long since learned there was nothing quite as exquisite as a blushing good–looking man.

 

Of course, the magical aspect of it did very much falter when such an occurrence happened on a weekly basis. However Zhou Fang was happy to notice the sly glares of her servants had turned into teasing smiles, done best to stay hidden from her, the feeblemindedness of her current husband marking him a laughing stock even amongst those far beneath her.

 

It had been a while since she allowed herself free rein to do as she pleased.

 

In an instant, lightning traversed the gardens, silent in its journey, its path starting from Zhou Fang and arching towards each of the servants present.

 

All except for one, who had looked at her in abject terror.

 

Smart girl.

 

"I… I would say no more than twenty?" her husband spoke, posing his answer as another question, and Zhou Fang could not help but smile at his innocence, the eagerness in which he aimed to please all the more endearing for it.

 

None would guess her age as twenty, for she looked far closer to a cultivator in the Inner Realm at the age of thirty, but Zhou Fang counted it as a compliment, even if she knew her husband merely tried to stay on the safe side with her.

 

"Close. I'm twenty-eight." she told him, inwardly laughing at the quiet sigh of relief he breathed out, one he quickly tried to conceal by putting on his most sultry smile.

 

"Well then, Mistress, I suppose it is a good thing I'm twenty-seven. Any more and you would have been the one obeying me."

 

My, perhaps she had miscalculated.

 

Surely another pregnancy, as draining as it may be on her cultivation, cannot be so bad. It is after all a mere 9 months, and even she had the capability to ensure her Sect would live for at least another few years. Perhaps it would even beget her own little Jiang, and her house would thrive and prosper for it.

 

The Gods worked in ways this lowly one did not even dare to comprehend, after all.

 

Even if she were to birth another girl, Zhou Fang's cultivation had stagnated for so long the price would surely not lower her beneath the Heavenly Realm, and in the meantime other prospects could be examined.

 

Yes, even if she would have no choice but to traverse the Renegade Realm, Zhou Fang wanted another child, another continuation to the great Zhou Sect.

 

"Well then, I suppose it is a good thing I'm a year older than you and you are the one that needs to obey, wouldn't you agree?" she said, her smile wolfish.

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