Third line of Nine: The superior man active and vigilant all the day, and in the evening is still careful and apprehensive. The position is dangerous, but there will be no mistake.
---Book of Changes
The importance of this fight is not only in that it will decide the fate of the warlords. But, whether or not the Chinese nation can restore its freedom and independence hangs in the balance. In other words, it is a struggle between the nation and the warlords. All are to be decided now in this time of battle ... so as to restore independence and freedom to our nation.
---General Kang, Wuhan, China
///////
Spade and Joyce wordlessly followed the scowling shaman up the grand stairwell, staff members and shamans casting fearful and angry looks in their direction.
"Nice building," Joyce said casually. The number of angry glares increased. Spade took a sweeping glance around, taking in the glimmering web of gold that hovered barely out of sight. The interior was built like an Imperial government building combined with a temple pagoda. The heavy air of history was probably deliberately cultivated to intimidate its visitors. Not that it could bother him.
"Nice wards," he added. Most of the onlookers quickly turned away. It must hurt their pride for a foreigner and a teen to crash their defense system, if the Shaman Council was anything like he remembered. In other words, prideful and snobbish. But not stupid. No one would attack them today.
"The Chairman will see you now," the scowling shaman announced in a tone that suggested the Chairman did not want to see them at all. She unceremoniously pushed open the twin doors covered in elaborate dragon carvings and ushered them in with a head nod that for all purposes resembled the body language of an Albanian mafia member.
They stepped into a room practically shining with wards. Half the building must have frantically layered them on, Spade mused, all for the woman before him. The partially-visible spells cast iridescence on her gold-embroidered robes, and not a hair was out of place despite all the chaos earlier. One look at her and Spade could tell she was raised by an old noble family.
Chairman Jia smiled at them in welcome. She looked as composed and dignified as though it were a ceremony at a temple, stepping forward to greet them at a deliberate pace.
"It is our first meeting," the Chairman said, gesturing for them to sit, "I bid you welcome."
Spade and Joyce bent their heads in a light bow. "It is an honor to speak before the Chairman," Spade said, "We, Spade and Joyce Lee, shamans of the Order of the Flying Dragons, greet Chairman Jia on behalf of Grandmaster Mohan." The shaman who had escorted them in breathed in sharply and the Chairman's gaze positively gleamed.
"And is the Grandmaster well?" she asked, sitting back into her chair. To her credit, she showed no sign of surprise that Mohan was still kicking. Spade supposed that she would have guessed as much when her assassins turned up dead and Mohan still stayed out of grasp.
"The Grandmaster is well, and bid us bring his well wishes to you." Spade dropped into the familiar rhythm of formal speech. The back-and-forth exchanges where information was drawn out by bits required patience he was trained for, and as long as Joyce kept quiet they would get by just fine.
Chairman Jia seemed in no rush to know their purpose, even though they had just torn down the wards of her headquarters. She kept a serene pace through all the necessary pleasantries, finally moving on to the main topic. "And your trip to Canton, have you urgent business?"
Spade smiled politely. "It is on orders of the Grandmaster that we have come to offer our aid where it may be wanted, Chairman."
The woman tilted her head questioningly. "Aid? For what, may I ask? I was not under the impression that there was an emergency constituting such measures." Oh for god's sake.
Of course. Spade sighed internally, hoping for the conversation to wrap up before the forty-minute mark. It wouldn't be easy if the Chairman kept dragging it out, purposefully feigning ignorance as minutes ticked by. Formal exchanges like this grated on his nerves.
"It is to my knowledge that a storm occurred in Hong Kong a month ago," Spade said, "A storm of great magnitude." He paused, looking her in the eye.
"A storm caused by the Spirit Realm. Since then, there have been a great many incidents with no cause or explanation, of which the solutions have been few and difficult. As you must also know, these incidents are caused by the proximity of the Spirit Realm."
Chairman Jia smiled widely, a dangerous light in her eyes.
'I think we passed.' Spade quickly left his contact information and went through the formalities of agreeing to for-hire cooperation, going through the rest of the conversation on auto-pilot.
"One last thing," Chairman Jia said as they got up to leave, "will you not seek out young Pania, student of Lin Bo? After all, she is one of yours, no?"
Spade froze.
'Lin Bo's student. Lin Bo was here.' A young woman with sharp eyes and a sharper tongue flashed through his mind. 'Lin Bo's student is here!' The Chairman must have known from the start—and she had watched them play right into it.
Spade tried to say something but his mouth was completely dry. 'What the hell am I even supposed to say?! If she thinks—' He straightened his back, groping for a reply as Chairman Jia sat there, smiling like a cat that had spotted its prey.
'Leave this to me.' Joyce's voice rang out in his head.
"I do want to go see her," Joyce said, not waiting for Spade to respond. "She's close to my age and I need a break from stuffy people..." she paused, shifting gears to a formal tone, "But it is unfortunate that we cannot claim her. With her achievements at such a young age, her future is sure to be bright."
Spade glanced sharply at her from the corner of his eye. Joyce ignored him and smiled cheerfully at the Chairman, who nodded thoughtfully as though mulling something over.
"Of course, I do apologize for the mistake," Chairman Jia said. "We will be in contact shortly."
Spade managed to find his voice. "Thank you, Chairman, we bid you goodbye."
'Lin Bo had a student. She—but she can't be—we would have heard somewhere,' Spade barely noticed anything on their way out until they stepped outside and the humidity slapped him in the face like an angry lover. He mechanically turned towards Joyce, who was looking increasingly concerned.
"You good?" she asked, peering intently at his face, "You're still smiling. Did you eat something bad?"
Oh wow. This brat. Spade sighed, the sharp prickle of annoyance shoving him back to reality.
"That Pania thing was a jerk move, huh?" Joyce said cheerfully. Spade narrowed his eyes.
"How did you know anyway?" he asked. Joyce waved her phone dismissively.
"Saw her name in the files, it was spelled out in English. She's with Hengshan, though I didn't have time to read the rest." She probably also couldn't read the rest.
Thinking back, Joyce had handed him a folder but had been holding a stack of which she snapped photos of and sent back with a casual familiarity that suggested some kind of background in stealing test answers or illegally replicating textbook materials. Probably both.
Spade had been too focused on memorizing everything that could slip him up at the time to think anything of it. After agreeing to one crazy plan after another, he was already beginning to feel his credibility as a mature adult slipping away, and now his charge was taking lead in plans for espionage and possibly blackmail. At least it meant that Spade wasn't the bad influence between them.
"Are you blackmailing anyone?" he asked. Surely she had snapped a photo of some politician's sordid love affair with her sister-in-law or the receipt some embarrassing transaction where someone's STD test results had been mistakenly sent to the wrong person and held hostage for a fee. If those files existed Joyce's chaotic energy would have drawn them to her.
"I don't know, I can't read them," Joyce shrugged. Right.
"You got Pania's file though?" Spade prodded, trying to see the photos blocked by the top of Joyce's head. Joyce looked up with sparkling eyes.
"She's only like 21 and she's cool. She looked muscle-y too. Kind of like if Chris Hemsworth was an Asian lady." Joyce said. Spade saw a flash of movement at the corner of his eye.
"And she's here, so shut up." He hissed, swiveling around to face the fast-approaching woman. Whoever the hell Chris Hemsworth was, he didn't actually want to know, Pania certainly looked like an MMA fighter.
She was tall and well-muscled, with light brown skin and a head of untamed hair. In either case, Pania looked like she both wanted to and intended to crush Spade's skull with her bare hands. Her clenched fists glowed with spiritual energy.
Spade looked at her, weighing the way a group of elemental spirits swirled above her. This one was definitely Lin Bo's student.
"Spade and Joyce Lee?" Pania hissed, venom dripping from her voice, "You've got some explaining to do."
Right. Hengshan. Spade opened his mouth to start saying something diplomatic, only for Joyce to cut in.
"Pania, right? I've heard a lot about you, but you're cooler than the rumors say! Damn, I wish you were in the Flying Dragons. Muscular girls are the best." Joker smiled cheerfully. Spade stared at her incredulously. Was she really using that on a shaman?
Sure, talking casually about nonsensical things while a warlord's soldiers point a gun in her face had worked long enough for her to conjure up storms or grab a pet cat as a hostage in the past. That one time the warlord had actually been crying for his cat, which was eventually released unharmed after extensive negotiation via loudspeakers.
Between running people through with his sword and running through the storm with neon lightning bolts Joyce summoned, Spade hadn't actually been involved in that incident. He sharply shook his head and tried to jump in.
"Sorry, what she means is—"
"It's really cool that you learned from Lin Bo. I just know that Grandmaster Mohan would dote on you." Joyce pressed on insistently, ignoring Spade glaring a hole through her head.
A spasm went over Pania's face. "Grandmaster...Mohan?"
Spade took the chance to jump in and end the conversation before it could spiral further.
"Joyce is still young and lacking in manners. Please don't hold it against her. We do indeed owe the Hengshan Association an explanation and an apology; we set up an appointment for tomorrow for that purpose. Of course, if you deem it necessary to move forward the meeting, we would gladly do so."
Pania frowned slightly, the open hostility on her face fading away to a cool mask.
"If that was your intention, I am certain my boss will honor it," she said, matching Spade's formal tone, "I hope my abruptness did not startle you. We will be in contact if the meeting time changes." Pania bowed her head politely. Spade bowed back, pushing Joyce's head down when she stood there without any intention to bow.
"Thank you, Miss Pania. We look forward to the meeting," Spade said, quickly making his escape with Joyce in tow. This really was shaping up to be a bad day.
////////
Taeyun tapped his fingers against his desk, staring at the wards as they shifted. His last hope of a peaceful week had disappeared like a plate of food placed before a college student between final exams. Somewhere down the hall Helang called out orders, taking the chance to overhaul the defense system. Taeyun closed his eyes. Think, he breathed out slowly, think about what this means.
He hadn't been surprised when the Flying Dragons went to the Shaman Councils headquarters. After all, the two groups had a history between them. If that meant they also had more bad blood, well, that certainly was good for him.
He had been surprised when the pair had doubled back to make an appointment with Taeyun, leaving a vague notice that they would show Hengshan what they were capable of. Half an hour later, the wards crashed down.
But Jia Xu's wards had crashed as well, and Taeyun had managed to stop Helang from issuing a shoot-on-sight order for the pair of shamans. Taeyun didn't want them gone if he didn't understand why they were here—if this ended up as a missed opportunity Pania would never let him get over it.
Taeyun ran through a list of possibilities, from them being MI6 to being KGB, to being members of some branch of the Taiping Kingdom cult that had stayed off-radar until now. Or maybe they were just cosplayers? If he had to deal with overpowered cosplayers he would back-flip out a window. He sighed. This was turning up to be one hell of a—
He straightened with a start.
"Helang!" He called down the hall. Almost immediately a powerful ward sprung into place around him as Helang sprinted into the room.
"What happened?!" Helang swiveled in place, looking for danger.
Taeyun waved sheepishly. "Nothing's wrong, Helang. Calm down." Helang let out a sigh of relief, some of the tension relaxing from his shoulders.
"I was just asking where Pania went," Taeyun continued. Helang stiffened, cursing under his breath.
"I think she left, the damn brat." Helang swiveled his gaze around. "I'll ask Luco."
Taeyun sighed. He had watched Pania grow into a genius, but she had yet to grow out of her temper and recklessness. Her flaws made for some interesting incidents, the most recent of which bordered on inciting a riot between sailors and construction workers, complete with fireworks, a live band, and a crate of escaped crabs.
This could be bad, Taeyun thought. Even if she was one of the best and brightest around, those two had destroyed his wards as simply as a drunken man destroys a sandcastle, and he'd be damned if he lost his best mentee. He reached out to the wind spirits, gathering the whispers across the city. The air billowed and swirled, turning around him in circles as he sought Pania's whereabouts.
"...master Mohan would...you-" a young girl's voice softly echoed into the room. Taeyun let the wind stop. He blinked, thoughts racing through his head as he considered the implication.
He smiled wryly. Now this would be fun.
///////
Between stealing files like some kind of knockoff Tom Cruise and watching the ridiculous back and forth that was Spade and Jia Xu's conversation, breakfast felt like it was weeks ago. Joyce looked through the photos on her phone as she waited for Spade to finish haggling with their new landlord, cursing her inability to read most of the complicated characters.
Joyce felt her stomach rumble and pulled out a snack bar. She had only managed a bite of the overly processed calories when a shadow cast itself over the mouth of the alley. She looked up. And nearly spat out her food. Something had rounded the corner, slowly shuffling its way into the alley.
The plague spirit was exactly what her worst expectations had failed to prepare for. She had seen bad pictures on the internet but she had definitely not expected this. It looked like a stray cat had been turned inside out, dipped repeatedly in radioactive chemical dye, and hit by a car. The last part would actually be a good thing, she supposed, if not for the fact it was the size of a car.
"Holy Toyota", Joyce murmured, "that's one ugly cat."
The plague spirit bristled furless-ly, opening a gaping mouth lined with slimy tendrils of black spit to let out a snarl. It sounded exactly like a cover of Despacito made by scratching an aluminum pot lid with rusty nails. Joyce flinched and put the snack bar into her pocket, slowly backing away. She pulled out the bag of salt in her sleeve.
"You wanna back up?" She tried uneasily. The plague spirit moved forward.
"Good kitty?" The plague spirit looked even less impressed, opening its mouth to the size of a garbage can as it readied itself to pounce.
The hairs on her neck stood up as the plague spirit moved. Joyce flung herself against the far wall of the alley, letting out a scream as the spirit crashed into the dumpster.
'Shit shit shit.' Half the dumpster was gone with an ungodly crunching noise. The plague-spirit grew in size as it swallowed trash and metal, making gurgling sounds as it tried to turn ninety degrees towards her.
Joyce gaped in horror. 'Fuck it.' She flung 200 grams of salt unceremoniously into the spirit's open mouth.
"Holy salt bae, get out of my house!" she shouted, hopping backward as the spirit began snarling, spittle splashing onto the walls as it writhed. "Oh my god! That's disgusting!"
She screamed loud enough to match the howl of the spirit as it collapsed into what appeared to be a giant glob with the consistency of peanut butter.
"Oh, ew!" Joyce hopped onto the dumpster at the end of the alley as the glob spread viscously across the cracked concrete. "This is so gross!" It looked like a mass of liquidated earthworms and smelled like rotting flesh.
She shuddered, squeezing her eyes shut to avoid looking at it. Her stomach flip-flopped and the crumbs of the snack bar stuck in her teeth suddenly felt unbearably disgusting. Was salt bae the wrong man to evoke? Had she offended some god by failing to use the proper incantation?
Footsteps sounded against the pavement and Spade rounded the corner, eyes blazing.
"Joyce, what the fuck—"
"Spade!" she wailed, "This is so disgusting!" Spade let out a sharp sigh and stared at the mess. He unsheathed his sword.
"Oh, don't, you're just gonna get it dirty," Joyce said. Spade gestured helplessly at the half-liquid mass, which was now starting to bubble.
"You have to get rid of it," he finally said after several unsuccessful attempts to form words.
"How?!"
"How did you make this anyways?" Spade frowned and felt for something in his sleeve.
"I invoked the name of salt bae," Joyce offered.
"Salt bae? No, I actually don't want to know," Spade stopped her before she could answer. He took in the sight with the gaze of a withered old woman. "Do you need more salt?"
Joyce's shoulders slumped. "Yes please." Her stomach gave an untimely growl. Spade upturned all 156 grams of salt in his bag onto the mess with the attitude of a young mom 100% done with her baby's constant need to poop his diapers.
The mess began to disappear, Spade walking forward as it shrank away from his boots. He reached the end of the alley, all traces of black spittle and disgusting globs vanished from sight.
"Want to get lunch?" he asked, reaching out to help Joyce off the dumpster. She sniffed at her clothes. They smelled of sweat and the remains of someone's kitchen scraps.
"...Maybe after I change."