So... since I caught up... I believe the polite way to phrase this is "omake for the omake throne" and pinging
@yrsillar ?
Now, I had to assume waaay too many details about the greater world even as I tried to keep certain things vague to write this, so I am almost certain this will end up as apocrypha, but in the off case I am mostly accurate but the deal-breaker lies in a detail that I can work around, please inform me so that I can correct it.
I am also including a small shou
tout to another omake writer due to the relative proximity of topics. It's not important or anything, but considering that the story is about a painting, it felt rude not to at least make a tangential reference. @Lena27 , if that is not ok, tell me and I can remove it.
Also, I am kind of a new author, so any feedback is welcome and helpful.
Hidden Moon Gathering - Death of a general.
Creating a simulacrum that could function from a point 2 provinces away was not easy. Even for a man at Indigo. Even for a man with his resources. Nevertheless, for Zheng De it was kind of a routine. It had to be, because he had to make one of those once every few years. Every time there was a meeting.
Sneaking to the Savage Seas, as a Similacrum, with no one the wiser was easier. Internal borders were not created with Indigo level cultivators in mind, and if there was one thing this fragile Similacrum was good enough to emulate, it was stealth. Still, doing so was tense. Getting caught would cause quite a scandal. He was pretty sure he could weather the political fallout, as a favored scion of the Zheng ducal family, Indigo at the young age of 75, but that wouldn't mean there wouldn't be consequences for his actions. The foremost of which would be that his family would never let him live down the fact that he, a Zheng, was a dedicated scholar. The teasings and the hazings would not end even if he ascended as a Great Spirit, he thought with a touch of self-deprecating hyperbole.
He tried to calm himself. Paranoia was getting the better of him. Even if his simulacrum was caught, it couldn't be connected to him. It was purposely made with features entirely different than his, after all. Moreover, getting caught would probably raise an alarm, but unless a spy followed him, no one would know the actual purpose of his sneaking. Was a spy following him? Being caught talking would be much worse today than any other time, as he was planning to divulge one of the secrets guarded by his own family. He wasn't certain he could weather the consequences of that. What if all his outings were actually monitored, but the gatherings were deemed harmless by the Zheng... until now? No, bad paranoia, nobody was watching.
Risk be as it may, that secret burned inside him. His Way required him to divulge it, even if he were to die for it. Some part of him knew his family would see it as a betrayal, but he didn't see himself as unfilial. It was not like he was divulging a military or trade secret, nor was he insane enough to divulge a family art. He was just revealing a small bit of lost history today. Censoring the truth was for people that were afraid of the truth. He- the Zheng were not afraid of any truth, no matter how unpleasant it may be. By revealing it, he was setting his family free from the past shame of being too weak to accept reality, as far as his Way was concerned.
Still, he couldn't help being paranoid, as he passed through to the Alabaster Sands. And he couldn't help being paranoid as he flew over the water of the Savage Seas. Finally, he reached his destination. With water as far as the eye could see, and no visible landmarks, not unless one was looking very closely, anyone without the sense of space only cultivation could give would get lost. Even other cultivators tended to ignore the sea because it all looked the same to them. That made it a treasure trove of secrets and untapped resources that even the Xuan barely tapped, but, more pertinently to one such as himself, it made it an ideal hiding spot for secret meetings.
He couldn't really blame people for that, however. Even he would doubt he was in the right place if it wasn't for the one hidden landmark. It was subtle enough than almost no one would notice it if they weren't paying attention. Worse than that, it was something only really visible during one night each month. When the Moon was completely Hidden in the sky, showing no part of itself, the sea in this particular location would reflect a Full Moon, rather than the nothingness that it should, by all rules of nature, show.
"In this night, secrets long hidden finally become revealed." Upon uttering the password, the Moon reflection turned into a door. Moving the simulacrum closer to the door, he opened it. And suddenly, the simulacrum found itself somewhere different, in a moonlit garden, under the light of the Full Moon. Cultivators attuned to moon qi would also notice that the Hidden Moon also hung from the sky, an observation impossible to make with one's eyes due to the fact that the Hidden Moon was defined visually by its absence.
"Fashionably late as ever, scholar Qī " said a man in a black, feature obstructing cloak. "Not everybody has the capability to come here that easily, scholar Èr" Zheng De replied. Both names were fake, of course. Every scholar here used a fake name, passed down from their predecessor, who got it from their own predecessor, a line going back until the first meeting. That was the reason why there could never be more than 10 people in ta meeting.
"Be it as it may, scholar Qī , you called the meeting this time" Èr rebuked him.
"So what if I did? I am not the host you... I am not the host regardless" he almost slipped to his Zheng manners. He knew that Èr, the punctuation freak, had no ill intentions, but his constant rebukes drove him up the wall "why aren't you up in Jiǔ's case anyway?" he did slip back into his Zheng manners a little there "he always comes after me".
"I am indeed not finding myself agreeable with scholar Jiǔ's tardiness either" Èr replied, emphasizing the word scholar "but just because someone is more wrong does not mean the lesser offense is not an offense. Plus, I hardly even have the time to lecture him, due to the meetings starting as soon as we all arrive. By that time, there are more important things to discuss. And after the end of the meetings, he is the first to leave too, so I cannot talk to him then either. That vexes me to no end, mind you."
"Sorry to be late" a construct made of paper entered the room. That would be Jiǔ.
The exact moment Jiǔ finished apologizing, Líng's voice echoed in the garden "Gentlemen. It appears that the time of our meeting has arrived. As with the previous two meetings, scholar Sì could not make it. If he is unable to appear to the following two as well, I'll be forced to give his spot to someone more deserving" Líng, the host, would be an imposing man if the mask of a bunny, the traditional regalia of the host, didn't make him look so comical.
"The one who called this meeting is scholar Qī. As per usual, I reviewed their discovery, and I deemed it of appropriate importance to be discussed in our meetings. Rejoice, for under the light of the Moon another secret lost in history will be a secret no more"
Zheng De was certainly less... Zheng than most Zhengs, but he still found all this pomp ritual and etiquette extremely annoying. They were just a bunch of strong people discussing secrets lost in history, not conducting a parade. Unlike the original 10, they were not even all Moon cultivators. He certainly wasn't. Nevertheless, he repeated the words along with the others "Another secret will be revealed under the light of the Moon."
It was time, then, for the procession to start. The scholars sat in a circle, while he, the one who called the meeting, went to the circle's center. That was enough pomp for him, however, so he began by the hook, without much meandering.
"As most of you think you know, the situation with the Bai nowadays is the longest a founding ducal house has remained without a White, barring, of course, the ancient ducals that died off or disappeared. But did you know that back when the whole mess with the Shang was taking place, the Zheng actually had a period where they remained without a White for longer?"
"What kind of scientific term is "mess" Èr jeered
"We all know what happened, and I do not think it's valuable to describe it further. A mess is an apt descriptor. So, back then, there existed a painter by the name of Bì jiā suǒ . Most of his painting have been lost in time, but if accounts are to be believed, his painting exuded a strong emotional force. Some say that his method was similar to the Qi infusion certain master painters, such as Chen Niu, use to create magnificent works of art, but if accounts are to be believed, the strength of his paintings lied in their emotional resonance, not in their ability to create an illusory scene, so I think his Way was quite different. All these are assumptions, however, as only replicas of his paintings survive to this day."
"Bì Jiā Suǒ was mostly a painter of portraits that, somehow, captured the essense of a man. His talent managed to somehow keep him off the battlefield until the point where he reached Indigo. At that point, he participated in a clash. On whose side, it is not important" or known to him, damn incomplete records "but he saw what he later described as the horror of the war."
"And so, he decided to create a portrait"
"what does all of this have to do with the Zheng being left without a White" a person who seemingly lacked a face asked
"getting there, scholar Bā . You are a scholar, have some patience"
"I just cannot see how an Indigo could have any effect to the absence of a White, or the coverup thereof" Bā replied, indignant.
"That is why this is such an interesting secret" Líng interjected "now let him continue"
"As I was saying, Bì Jiā Suǒ decided to paint the portrait of war itself. He called a lot of officials to see it, hoping that maybe his skill with painting could sway the situation somewhat and, if not stop the war, at least limit meaningless slaughter. Indeed, records show that most of the people who saw this portrait were quite affected."
"General Zheng De" he shared a name with him. It was partly why he was interested enough in his story to dig stuff from the archive. It seemed strange to say that name out loud while referring to another. "who had built his Way around conflict and war, was annoyed by the fact his officers were getting less bloodthirsty and more squeamish. After investigating, he pinpointed the problem. Apparently, a painter had made a portrait strong enough to move hearts of iron and souls of stone. So one day, he visited the painter."
"For those of you not having memorised the names of all public Whites in history, he was the Zheng White of that era, a bloodthirsty warrior who cared little what side he'd end on as long as he found conflict. He was unpleasant and brutal, to the point even the Zheng found him too extreme but he was steered towards their political interests easily enough, by the right words, as long as there was conflict."
He hated that the Zheng had acted with such subterfuge and dishonesty. As far as he and most of the Zheng he knew were concerned, dishonest methods and oblique words such as the ones used to steer the general who shared his name were the true sign of barbarism. Yet, at some level, he knew that no great clan, not even the Zhen, could survive while being completely straightforward and upfront, in spite of what he was told as a child. It was still something that galled him greatly. He wished he was like his bondbrothers sometimes, still too weak of cultivation to know of the clan's subterfuge, not having to contemplate it and live with the shame of it every time it was brought up. Then again, wasn't he the same when he went to these meetings, today most of all? Full of lies and falsities?
He excised these thoughts from his mind and continued the story.
"One day, as I said, he visited Bì Jiā Suǒ. He was itching for a fight, but the painter was nothing but deferential towards him, as almost everyone is when they meet a White. Eventually, general Zheng asked to see the painting"
"Upon seeing the painting of war, a painting of suffering and abuse, death and despair, he remained transfixed. Seven days and seven nights he stood there, doing nothing but looking at the painting. Some members of the Zheng family came, trying to convince him to leave, but he wouldn't even react to their words, he just looked at the painting."
"Finally, during the eighth day, he uttered 3 words. "My life... wasted" . It was said that after that a tear trickled down his cheek. Then he just died. It was a peaceful death for a White who had lost his Way, but how could it be otherwise? His idea of conflict was stripped of everything positive, and, due to that, he had to strip himself from everything that had to do with war."
He stopped. As far as he was concerned, his story ended here. An Indigo killed a White simply by destroying his Way. But...
"What happened next?" Yī asked. As usual, Yī didn't look like anything at all.
He didn't want to say, he was ashamed of this, and it would reveal the shame of his family. Still, he had to. One cannot simply stop riding the tiger's back. It was not his Way to let the truth remain hidden. "The Zheng panicked. Even with a Sublime Ancestor, it was a dangerous time to stay without a White. But they couldn't find an excuse to kill the painter, making someone lose their Way is not a crime, the fault lies on the person who lost their Way. Plus, using the death of Zheng De as a pretext would involve revealing the death of their White, which would shame the clan greatly even if they had another White, and could be disastrous if, as the case happened to be, they had no other White. Manufacturing a pretext to kill him was dismissed too, as it could mean that someone would later look closely in this situation and find the truth. Considering the whole mess the world was in, and the usual behaviour of the Zheng, creating a pretext would probably have worked, but the heads of the clan were too panicked to think rationally. Assassination of the painter was ruled out, there were people capable of killing Indigos easily and quickly, but no one among the Zheng that could do it quietly, and bringing in an outsider was deemed too risky."
"In the end, they just intimidated the man into silence, waited for him to die, bought the painting from his estate and" he paused. In truth, that part was the most shameful of all "burned one of the greatest masterpieces the world has ever seen. The Zheng carried on, acting as if Zheng De was alive ut secluded in meditation, trying to ascend until they got anoter White. After that, they waited for a while longer and then stated publicly that he died of long age."
Despite the difficulty of those admissions, Zheng De felt that revealing the truth set him free. The people in the room had a way of making truths circulate, and he knew there would be a hubbabub within the Zheng house for a short while due to this, but as far as he, and his Way, were concerned, he had taken the first step of washing an old shame away. He felt so light and happy due to this that he almost didn't care about the glorious secrets that would be revealed in future meetings.
Almost.
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So I wanted to give these guys number-based code names. Imagine my surprise when two somewhat important names for the story -seven and zero- were translated as Qī and Líng. Jokes about Ling Qi being James Bond seem appropriate.
The object of contention had to be a painting, and not a poem or a song because it was inspired by Guernica. I really hope I am not stepping in the foot of Lena27's series with that, but it just had to be a painting.
