There were no issues during their voyage. The seas were calm, no pirate vessels intercepted them, and the men who had given them trouble when they first boarded kept to themselves. It almost felt too easy. Wu Jian didn’t want to be the kind of person who would look a gift horse in the mouth, but with how often trouble found him, he had expected something to happen during his time here.

Only one thing really bothered Wu Jian during his time at sea.

“No… Wu Jian… don’t… don’t go…”

Another nightmare?

Wu Jian woke up to Hou Jingshu’s soft whimpers and moans. He sat up and looked down at the bottom bunk of the bed on his left. Hou Jingshu tossed and turned, sweat beaded her brow, and her face was scrunched up in pain. She released a short gasp, briefly opened her eyes, then settled down again.

Hou Jingshu had nightmares almost every night; sometimes they would wake her up, but she usually settled back down after a few minutes.

His heart ached seeing her like this. He wished he could take away her pain, erase the nightmares, and comfort her.

I’m pathetic.

He pressed a hand over his mask, which he wore even while sleeping. Wu Yong had questioned him about it. He had asked Wu Jian why he continued to wear that mask. Wu Jian couldn’t answer him. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t lie and yet was unable to tell the truth.

Wu Jian was fortunate that Hou Jingshu had stepped in. He was grateful to her. He also felt guilty. The woman who was suffering because of him was helping keep his secret. The guilt he felt gnawed at him from the inside out, making it hard to even look her in the eyes.

He climbed out of bed and lowered himself onto the floor, careful to be silent so as not to wake anyone else. He had worn his training gi to bed. All he needed to do was slip on his shoes. Then he was heading out the door, gently shutting it behind him.

Night had yet to leave, but the sun’s rise in the east marked the beginning of day. The brisk air gave him goosebumps as he walked over to the rail, placed his hands on it, and watched the rising sun. With nothing but the sun and one random deckhand as company, Wu Jian let his self-recriminations loose.

Someone I love is suffering because of me. How pathetic is it that I can’t even help ease her suffering? Well, I could, but that would involve revealing myself to her. Wu Meiying told me that no one could know I was still alive.

Wu Jian reached into his training gi and pulled out two necklaces. One of them was the necklace Hou Jingshu had given him before she departed for Shang Imperial City. The other one had been crafted by Wu Meiying specifically to protect him. He still didn’t know how it worked, but he knew it somehow hid his presence from the people after Wu Meiying. To keep it working smoothly, everyone who knew him had to assume he was dead.

He pressed a hand to his chest, clutching his training gi, as though that would somehow help ease the pain in his heart.

“Prrrrr.”

Wu Jian blinked several times when a long, black tail emerged from his shadow and coiled around his left leg.

“Yōuměi? Are you trying to comfort me?” The tail twitched before moving further up and coiling around Wu Jian’s hand. His lips twitched as he held the tail. “Heh. Thank you. I feel much better now.”

He didn’t really, but he felt bad for worrying his companion. The problems he was facing were problems he needed to solve on his own. He shouldn’t get anyone else involved in them.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Wu Jian nearly screamed when a voice appeared behind him. The tail quickly ducked back into his shadow as he spun around to find Wu Yong standing behind him. His half-brother looked at him with a faint half-smile, as if he was amused by Wu Jian’s reaction.

“Do you always sneak up on people like that?” asked Wu Jian.

“It’s not that I was sneaking up on you. It’s that you were so lost in thought, you didn’t even hear me approach.” Wu Yong walked over until he stood side-by-side with Wu Jian. The two brothers looked at the horizon together, though one of them had no idea who the other was. “Are you in love with Hou Jingshu?”

“You don’t beat around the bush,” Wu Jian muttered with a sigh.

Wu Yong shrugged. “I don’t like to be subtle. Much easier to get my point across by being straightforward. And you didn’t answer my question.”

“Does it matter?” Wu Jian shrugged. “You already told me she’s in love with someone else, right? Even if I did feel something for her, would anything come from it?”

They had spoken several times since leaving White Tiger City. Wu Jian had become oddly close to Wu Yong—closer than they had been as half-brothers certainly. And his half-brother had shared a lot of information with him, about himself, about Hou Jingshu, and about his supposed dead younger brother.

One of the many things Wu Yong had shared was Hou Jingshu’s feelings for Wu Jian.

Unfortunately, Wu Jian could not do anything about his feelings right now. He was dead in the eyes of everyone else.

“She is… but that doesn’t mean she has to remain in love with that person.” Wu Jian turned his masked face to more fully look at Wu Yong, who stared at the rising sun with a contemplative expression. “I’m very grateful that Her Highness’s feelings for my younger brother are so strong, but I’m also worried. She’s suffering because of her feelings. I just think it might be better for her if she were to find someone else. Maybe she wouldn’t suffer so much if she could move on.”

Wu Jian took a deep breath.

It would be better if Hou Jingshu did move on. He knew that. And Wu Jian should have wanted that for her. He should have wanted her to move on and find love again… but he didn’t. Part of his guilt was his desire for Hou Jingshu to keep loving him the same as always. He didn’t want her to forget, didn’t want her to move on, and certainly didn’t want her to find another lover. The very idea made him sick to his stomach.

“Maybe you’re right,” Wu Jian managed to choke out.

Wu Yong furrowed his brow. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just fine. I just think I got a little seasick for a minute there.”

“Ah. That happens. I got sick on my way here. Fortunately, I seem to be doing better this time. I guess I got used to travel by sea.”

Wu Jian said nothing as the older man patted him on the back, mistakenly assuming the reason he felt so bad. It was just another thing that made him feel guilty.

***

Hǎiyáng City appeared on the horizon as a series of small buildings and a pier with several ships already docked. The sailor in the bird’s nest had spotted it first. Wu Jian had seen it several hours after the man called down to let the rest of the crew know. What happened after that was all the sailors bustling about to ready their ship for docking.

“It’s quite the sight, isn’t it?”

The person who had spoken was Shao Yimu. Wu Jian had not spoken to this man all that much, but they had passed each other by on occasion. All the man would normally do when they met was smile and nod a polite greeting. Why was he talking to Wu Jian now?

“What’s a sight?” asked Wu Jian.

“These people.” Shao Yimu swept his hand in a grand gesture that encompassed the ship and its crew. “All these people are hard at work. We cultivators might stand on top of the world, but it’s the people like this who make the world turn. We would have nothing if not for the people who farm crops, ship goods, and trade wares. That’s why I like watching them.”

It was true that the world was run by the ordinary rather than the extraordinary. Cultivators had the strength of a thousand men, but it was the people without strength who kept everything running. Father had taught him this during his lessons so long ago. That was another reason even the Wu Clansmen who couldn’t cultivate were important to the clan.

“There’s truth to what you say,” Wu Jian confessed.

“Right? Oh, looks like your princess is coming. See you later.”

Shao Yimu left as Hou Jingshu and Zheng Yawen walked onto the deck. He politely nodded as he passed them both. Hou Jingshu nodded back, but her bodyguard merely glared with suspicion at the man.

“Jian Wu, good morning,” Hou Jingshu said with a gracious smile.

He smiled back even though she couldn’t see it. “Morning, Jingshu. Did you sleep well?”

“Oh, yes. I did. Thank you for asking,” she lied. Hou Jingshu had another nightmare last night. Wu Jian had listened to her moan in her sleep for several hours before leaving because he couldn’t stand his powerlessness. Still, he would keep up this charade for her sake.

“What’s the plan once we enter port?” he asked.

“We would normally find an inn to stay the night, but that won’t be necessary this time,” Zheng Yawen said. “I sent a missive ahead of time requesting the Imperial Family’s airship arrive to pick us up. If all goes according to plan, they should already be stationed outside the city, waiting for us.”

“So we’ll proceed through the city and travel to Shang Imperial City via airship?” asked Wu Jian for clarification.

“Correct.”

Wu Yong soon arrived and requested Wu Jian’s help carrying Yin Wuhan’s body out of storage. It really was inconvenient that bodies could not be stored inside of a storage ring, but Wu Jian did not voice this out loud. He thought it would be disrespectful to Yin Wuhan if he complained. The man might not have liked him, but he had been loyal to Hou Jingshu.

Their ship soon docked. Hou Jingshu thanked the captain for allowing them passage, but he merely waved her off.

Shao Yimu and his group left before they did. Wu Jian saw them disappearing into the crowd. He was glad they were no longer nearby. Something about Shao Yimu set him on edge.

Wu Jian and Wu Yong, carrying Yin Wuhan’s body, followed Hou Jingshu and Zheng Yawen down the boarding ramp. Zheng Yawen found them a rickshaw with enough space to carry Yin Wuhan, though the rest of them had to walk. They waded through the crowd, surrounding the rickshaw as though to protect it, and eventually made it out of the port city.

It had been a long time since Wu Jian set foot in the Shang Kingdom—almost a year now. He looked at the familiar trees and greenery. The Shang Kingdom had similar flora no matter where you traveled, so even though he had never been to Hǎiyáng City before, it still felt nostalgic.

“Our airship should be just a little ways away,” Zheng Yawen informed them.

Her words rang true. After what felt like a few hours of walking, they crested a hill, where Wu Jian got his first glimpse of the Imperial Family’s airship.

It was much larger than he had expected, about the size of a galleon with a one-hundred person crew. It was shaped like a regular vessel that sailed through the ocean. The difference lay in the wings, which extended from either side, and the sails, which were not sails but large balloons filled with helium. Both balloons and wings were covered in intricate runes.

The ship itself was painted in the colors of the Shang Kingdom royal family. The Hou Family colors were purple and silver. Near the bow was the Hou Family’s symbol, a dragon coiled around a spear.

“This is our ride,” Zheng Yawen said.

“What do you think?” asked Hou Jingshu.

“It’s a magnificent vessel,” Wu Jian said honestly. “Does it have a name?”

“Of course,” Hou Jingshu said with pride. “It’s called Lóng Tiānkōng.”

The word “lóng” meant dragon or serpent in the ancient tongue, and “tiānkōng” meant skies or heavens, so the literal translation of this vessel was Serpent of the Skies or Dragon of the Heavens.

“It’s a good name. I like it,” he said.

Hou Jingshu smiled. “I’m glad you think so.”

***

Shao Yimu and his companions found an inn to stay the night. It was not the best of inns, but it wasn’t the worst either. The food was decent and the lodgings were okay. He would have preferred something more extravagant, but he was undercover. Drawing attention to himself would not be a good idea.

“Are you sure it was a good idea to let that man leave, Lord Yimu?” asked one of his servants.

They were sitting around a table inside a tavern. Mugs of ale, bowls of rice, and plates of fish covered the table. Shao Yimu twirled the chopsticks in his hand before using them to slice a section of fish. He placed the food in his mouth. It was bland. He preferred the strongly seasoned food from the Ming Province over this.

“Do you doubt my decisions?” asked Shao Yimu.

The man shook his head. “No, but we were told to kill him on sight. Won’t Sect Master Luo Dong be displeased when he learns you let his disciple’s killer go?”

It was a good thing this tavern was so noisy. No one could hear them speak.

Shao Yimu shook his head. “I would normally agree with you, but that man was traveling with the Shang Kingdom’s princess. Killing him now could have caused an international incident. We cannot afford to draw attention to ourselves right now. Causing any disruption could interfere with our main mission.”

“Then what should we do?” asked another of his servants.

Shao Yimu considered that as he ate the bland Shang Kingdom food. All of it was grossly under seasoned. Did these heathens not understand the benefits of properly seasoned food? They should have loaded this up with a variety of different spices and medicinal herbs to increase their longevity.

“I want you to send a message to the Wind-Lightning Pavilion,” Shao Yimu said at last. “Inform them that we found the target, but he’s traveling with the Shang Kingdom’s Imperial Princess. Ask them for instructions on how to proceed.”

“Yes, Lord Yimu.”

One of them men stood up, preparing to send a letter right now, but Shao Yimu grabbed his hand and pulled him back down.

“You don’t need to send the letter right away. Sit and finish eating first.”

“… Yes, Lord Yimu.”

As the man began eating once again, Shao Yimu thought back to the young man he had met on the ship.

I hold no real quarrel with you, but I’m afraid you’ll have to die at some point. You killed the sect master’s only disciple and you’re somehow involved with the Shang Kingdom royal family. You simply have bad luck.