Unfortunate Transmigrator

46

Truths and Secrets

I

A silence unlike any other followed Lan Yue’s revelation. Lan Yue had her head down, staring fixedly at her lap. Tian Jin’s eyes were wide, and he seemed to be at a loss for words.

Hao Zhen took in a deep breath, leaning his head back against the trunk of the tree. He had been expecting something like this, but the truth was far more terrible than he had assumed. He then exhaled before straightening his back. “What happened then?” he asked, softly.

He didn’t offer any words of support or condolence. He didn’t think Lan Yue would respond kindly to platitudes, and he wasn’t good at those things anyway.

Lan Yue looked up, her face warped in a way that Hao Zhen had never seen before—an ugly marriage of anger and agony. “What do you think?” she said, some bite to her voice. “He took my mother away. Nobody stopped him.” She trembled. “Brother and Na Shui tried, but Grandfather stopped them. And Father… he wished the man a good journey.” She closed her eyes. “Mother didn’t even fight back. She just… stared at Father, blankly, as the man took off with her.”

Lan Yue suddenly opened her eyes. “Well, go on.”

“What?”

“You have a theory, don’t you?” she said. There was some heat to her voice, but it was like the dying embers of a bonfire, as if she had already burned most of her anger. “Isn’t that what you do? That’s why you asked me about this, right?”

Hao Zhen hesitated. He did have some ideas, but he wasn’t sure this was the time to go over them—not after a wound had just clearly been reopened.

“Maybe now’s not the—” Tian Jin started to say, but Lan Yue cut him off.

“No,” she said, shooting the other boy a glare, before shifting her attention back to Hao Zhen. “I want to hear it. Tell me.”

Hao Zhen slowly nodded his head. “All right,” he said. “Would you mind answering some questions first?” He ignored Tian Jin’s uncertain look.

“Go ahead.”

“Do you have any idea who… the man is?”

“No.”

Hao Zhen waited for Lan Yue to elaborate. She didn’t. “I see,” he said. “Well, is there anything about him you can tell me? His cultivation lev—”

“He was a yellowsoul,” she said. “Grandfather told me so later. That’s the only thing anyone ever told me about what happened that day.”

“A yellowsoul,” Hao Zhen repeated. He didn’t know whether that was a good or a bad thing. A cultivator at the Yellow Spiritual Realm was far above anything they could handle, but on the other hand, the situation could have been far worse, considering there were another three spiritual realms after that. “There’s only one yellow-grade organization on this island, right?” he then said, turning to Tian Jin. “The… Resplendent Gleam Sect, yes?”

“That’s correct,” Tian Jin said, nodding his head.

Hao Zhen turned back to Lan Yue. “Is there any chance the man was a member? An elder?”

“I don’t think so,” she said, almost immediately. “I looked into the Resplendent Gleam Sect. Their members always wear either silver or golden robes. The man wore red.” She immediately raised her hand. “I know he could have simply not been wearing his sect robes. I considered that. I’m not an idiot. But I believe his red robes were sect robes. There was this symbol on his outer robe, over the chest. A red half-moon.”

“Hmmm.” Hao Zhen glanced at Tian Jin. “Any ideas?”

“I only know the organizations on this island,” Tian Jin said. “If he’s a yellowsoul, then he’s at least from a yellow-grade organization, and the only one I know is the Resplendent Gleam Sect.” Tian Jin paused. “If he’s indeed a member of a sect or clan. He might also be a loose cultivator—if not a rogue one.”

“So chances are, the man was from another island,” Hao Zhen said. “He may or may not be associated with a magical organization, and if he is, it’s at least of the yellow grade. And its emblem is likely a red half-moon,” he summarized, mostly for his own benefit. After a moment’s hesitation, he asked Lan Yue, “You said that the man… took your mother away because of her beauty?”

“Yes.”

“That… might have been a lie,” Hao Zhen said. Lan Yue narrowed her eyes at him, and he continued, “Earlier today, we theorized that you might have a spiritual bloodline, right? You also said that if you did have one, then you inherited it from your mother.”

“What do you—” Lan Yue went still, tensing up. “You think…”

“I believe the man might have taken her away because of her bloodline. Maybe he felt it somehow, or he had some way of telling it.” Hao Zhen paused, an idea occurring to him. “In fact, red robes… a red half-moon… maybe the organization he was from specialized in spiritual bloodlines in some way. Or in blood in general.’

“That… might be the case,” Lan Yue said, slowly. “But then… why didn’t he take me away, too?”

Hao Zhen shrugged. “Maybe he couldn’t sense your bloodline for some reason? Assuming that’s indeed the case.” He hesitated, then added, “There’s also the Weave. It could have stopped the man from noticing you—or it could’ve made him decide to only take your mother.” He didn’t mention that, most likely, the Weave was what had led the man to her mother.

Lan Yue didn’t say anything to that. She only gave him a look loaded with emotions he couldn’t quite discern before looking away, gazing off into the distance. Tian Jin, Hao Zhen noticed, also appeared rather unsettled, staring fixedly at the ground in front of him.

Hao Zhen left them to their thoughts. Only yesterday did he tell them of his theories about the Weave and the nature of the world. Even though they took the revelation rather well and had most likely already put quite a lot of thought into the matter the previous night, he believed they’d still need some time before they came to terms with the situation.

Hao Zhen took that opportunity to do some pondering on his own. There were a number of aspects of Lan Yue’s recounting that demanded further consideration, but he found one of them more pressing than the others: Lan Xing, the sect leader of the Blazing Light Sect, and Lan Yue’s father. What kind of person was he? Lan Yue had painted a disgusting image of the man, but he wondered whether there was more than met the eye.

From what Hao Zhen understood of cultivation, a cultivator at the Yellow Spiritual Realm could wipe out the Blazing Light Sect in a matter of moments. Redsouls were probably like ants to them. No matter how he looked at it, the moment the mysterious yellowsoul took an interest in Lan Yue’s mother, the only possible outcome was the man taking her away. If Lan Xing had put up any resistance, that’d just mean risking the safety of the sect. As absolutely terrible as that sounded, there was nothing anyone could have done. It was also unknown what exactly happened before Lan Xing called Sang Yu and Lan Yue over.

Lan Xing’s smile, though… That troubled him. Was the man just putting up a facade to appease the yellowsoul? There was also the matter of the Weave. To which extent were Lan Xing’s actions Woven? Hao Zhen glanced at Lan Yue and decided that until he had a better idea of what had happened back then, he’d keep these thoughts to himself.

Perhaps most concerning of all, however, was whether the yellowsoul would return for Lan Yue. He was fairly confident in his spiritual bloodline theory, and if that was the case, it wasn’t clear why the man had left Lan Yue alone—and whether he planned on returning.

Before Hao Zhen could ponder that matter any further, Lan Yue snapped out of her daze, focusing on him, and he pushed those thoughts to the back of his head.

Again she gave him a long stare, her expression indescribable. Then she said, “It’s your turn.”

At that, Tian Jin looked up, also breaking out of his daze.

“What?” Hao Zhen said.

“It’s your turn. Tian Jin talked about his past. I talked about mine. You’re next.”

“Oh. Right,” Hao Zhen said, grasping the situation. “I thought that, after the previous conversation, you two wouldn’t be in the mood for talking.”

Lan Yue simply stared at him.

“Well, all right.” Hao Zhen sighed. He took a moment to collect his thoughts. “Let’s see…” What should he tell them? Everything? It wasn’t like there was much to say, in any case, and there was even less that couldn’t be said. He didn’t really have any secrets—

Hao Zhen froze. Right. He did have a secret. One that he had gained quite recently. The color of his soul.

“Well?” Lan Yue prompted.

“Give me a moment,” Hao Zhen said, thinking some things over. He had decided to keep the matter of his soul hidden in case it meant something bad, but… Wasn’t he just creating an opportunity for the Weave to start a conflict in the future?

Maybe it did mean something bad, and Lan Yue would somehow find it out on her own, and start suspecting him—or maybe it would get revealed in the worst possible moment. Instead of risking that, it was much better to simply tell her about it in a controlled environment.

Hao Zhen let out a long exhale. It seemed like he wasn’t being careful enough, after all.

“Before that,” Hao Zhen said, “there’s something you should know.”

“What?”

“Yesterday, Tian Jin discovered that there’s something odd about my soul. It’s a bit darker than yours—and supposedly everyone else’s.”

Tian Jin frowned, then opened his mouth as if to say something, before stopping himself. Hao Zhen gave him a subtle nod.

Lan Yue narrowed her eyes at him. Then she looked down at herself, and then at Tian Jin. “Huh. You’re right. Your soul is somewhat darker,” she said. “Does it… does it have to do with the fact you were originally from another world?”

As expected, she didn’t know anything about it. Good. “That seems to be the case,” Hao Zhen said.

“Hmmm.” Lan Yue crossed her arms. “But why are you telling me this now?”

Hao Zhen considered his options. He could lie and come up with an excuse. Or he could just tell her the truth. The choice was obvious. He wasn’t a good liar, and Lan Yue deserved his honesty.

“We were unsure whether it could mean something… bad,” Hao Zhen said. “So we decided to look into the matter first. That’s why we didn’t tell you yesterday. But now… Well, in hindsight, I realized that was stupid. There’s not really any reason to hide that from you, and keeping a secret was just asking for trouble.”

Tian Jin’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh.”

Lan Yue looked back and forth between the two of them a couple of times. “You two…” she trailed off, then shook her head. “Fine. I get it.” She didn’t look happy, but she didn’t look mad, either.

Hao Zhen considered that a victory. “Well, with that out of the way… My previous life. All right, let’s see. For starters, I was called Amyas. Amyas Auclair.”

“Au… Auclair?” Lan Yue tested the word, only partially butchering the pronunciation. “That’s an odd name.”

“I take it you weren’t… Chinese?” Tian Jin said, pausing for a moment to remember the word.

“No,” Hao Zhen said. “I was born in another country. Amyas is a name in the language spoken there. Auclair is a common surname. Err… in that language, the given name comes first, followed by the family name. But that’s not the point,” he said. “I didn’t live in my country or both long. When I was a child, my family moved to another country because of my sister. Maeva Auclair.” He paused. “Eva.”

Hao Zhen took in a deep breath, suppressing the sudden surge of complicated feelings that that name provoked in him. Then he chuckled, half amused, half bitter.

“You’ll find that, in a way, pretty much most of my life revolved around her.”