Epilogue
GOMEI’S FUNERAL WAS a quiet and clandestine affair, held on Sunlit Bliss Hill immediately after the group returned to the capital. Genyou chose the brightest spot on the hill to bury the coffin containing the prince’s body, then prostrated himself before the bump in the earth for quite some time. No one knew what he was saying to his brother in the privacy of his mind. Still, all those in attendance—Reirin, Keigetsu, Gyoumei, Shin-u, the Kou brothers, and Akim, so nearly everyone involved in the incident—could imagine what he might be feeling.
Mornings on Sunlit Bliss Hill were always awash with ample, radiant light, and that mattered more to Genyou than anything else.
As soon as he was done praying, Genyou rose to his feet and mildly addressed the two Maidens prostrating themselves behind him. “Kou Reirin, Shu Keigetsu, you are free to reverse the switch. I have seen my ambition through. You need not conserve your qi any longer.”
The two girls had been worried that wasting Keigetsu’s qi on a large-scale spell might cause issues with transporting the spittoon, so they had held off on reversing the switch until they made it back to the capital.
Keigetsu-as-Reirin and Reirin-as-Keigetsu exchanged hesitant glances.
“Er…”
“Right here?” Reirin asked. “Respectfully, I believe that may cause some sort of strange phenomenon in the vicinity.”
“I’m not concerned,” Genyou replied magnanimously. Now that he had taken his revenge, he had no more reason to scorn magic.
The pair glanced at each other again, then nodded firmly.
One girl wore a stiff expression. “I-I thank you for your generosity, Your Majesty.”
The other smiled like a flower bursting into bloom. “I am most pleased to hear that.”
The Maidens immediately whispered among themselves, the first elbowing the other in the arm, the second putting a hand to her cheek.
“H-hey, don’t you think you’re being a little condescending toward the emperor?!”
“What more do you expect me to say to him, Lady Keigetsu? This is only the first step.”
Keigetsu cleared her throat, stood up, and held out both hands to Reirin. “Then, without further ado…”
Picking up on her intention, Reirin rose smoothly to her feet and gripped those hands in return. “Go ahead, Lady Keigetsu.”
When performing a powerful art like a body swap, it was best to be in physical contact with the target. With how accustomed the girls had grown to the process of trading bodies and switching back, they carried out the steps with fluid ease.
Whoosh!
The moment Keigetsu focused her qi, a giant pillar of fire rose up and surrounded the two girls. The flames whipped their sleeves, tousled their hair, and kicked up heated gusts so fierce that even the audience could feel it, only to shoot straight up into the sky and vanish into thin air.
Slowly, the Maidens’ eyes drifted back open. When next they spoke, their souls were back where they belonged.
“Hee hee. It’s been a while since I’ve seen things from this perspective. You’re so tall, Lady Keigetsu.”
“You’re just short. And would you let go of my hands already?”
“Shu Keigetsu,” Genyou cut in softly, having stood back and watched as she cast her spell. When the freckled Maiden whipped around in a fluster, he said to her, “Allow me to thank you for everything you’ve done.”
“Huh?!” The most powerful man on the continent had just thanked her directly. Keigetsu was momentarily speechless with shock. “Um, uh, Y-Your Majesty, you need not humble yourself so!”
She hastily attempted to kowtow to him, but Genyou held up a hand to stop her. “No need for formalities. I could not have fulfilled my twenty-five-year-long ambition without your help. I have nothing but respect for your skill in the Daoist arts. You are without a doubt the greatest practitioner of your generation.”
“Oh!” Keigetsu was so overwhelmed by this glowing praise that her hands flew to her mouth, all etiquette forgotten.
She had been derided as talentless for so long. For as far back as she could remember, she had undermined herself with insistences that she had nothing to take pride in—that the one talent with which she could assert her dominance would only earn her more loathing were she to reveal it.
How wrong she had been. The most exalted man in the kingdom had just acknowledged her skill.
Her fierce eyes misted over in the blink of an eye, and hot tears streamed down her face. “Th-that is a greater honor than I deserve…”
Reirin smiled at the sight of her friend choking up with emotion. Ideally, she would have liked Genyou to apologize for persecuting this adorable friend of hers, wrongly suspecting her of associating with the sorcerer, and deriding her as a sewer rat, but Keigetsu herself seemed more than satisfied with this outcome, so it wasn’t her place to say anything.
Still, she couldn’t help thinking, Are you sure you don’t want to apologize? Considering Lady Keigetsu was willing to help you after the way you treated her, is that all the praise you have to give her? And you call yourself the supreme ruler of our kingdom?
It must have shown on her face, as Genyou frowned when he caught her looking at him. “Something to say, Kou Reirin?”
Reirin nearly responded with an elegant bow and a polite “Not at all,” but after a moment’s thought, she instead chose to say, “I don’t see any hoes lying around.”
“What of it?”
“Just something I have to accept.”
The rest of the group hadn’t been privy to their conversation on the eve of the showdown, so they had no idea what she was talking about.
Genyou, however, huffed a withering sigh. “You’ve a lot of cheek, girl.” He then cast Keigetsu a frosty glance. “Shu Keigetsu, while I acknowledge your talent for magic, you could stand to choose your friends more wisely. Nothing good will come of associating with a villainess like this. I advise you to cut ties with her before it’s too late.”
Seeing as Kou Reirin was a model Maiden, the favorite to win the throne of empress, Keigetsu was taken aback to hear Genyou abruptly label her a “villainess.” Still, the levity in his voice belied the harshness of the words, so she found herself smiling through her tears.
No, Your Majesty, she thought. Associating with her has brought me nothing but joy.
Genyou was the one who had commended her, but her friend was undeniably the one who had made it all possible.
Keeping those thoughts to herself, Keigetsu nodded and said, “Noted, Your Majesty. Though I am inept in my own ways, I shall endeavor not to become a villainess like her.”
“Goodness, Lady Keigetsu, you wound me. How am I the least bit villainous?”
“Fair point,” said Genyou. “I suppose it might be more accurate to call you a wild boar.”
Noting Reirin’s growing indignation, Gyoumei stepped in to mediate. “Father, kindly refrain from describing my betrothed as a boar, however true it may be.”
Alas, his efforts were for naught. “Excuse me, did you say true?” Reirin blurted out, dumbfounded.
“Well, it is. Right, Gyoumei?” Genyou prompted his son.
This was the first time the emperor and crown prince had ever exchanged such lighthearted banter. At long last, the father-son duo was learning to interact like real family.
The hill overlooking the kingdom was bathed in abundant light. Beneath that majestic sun, people laughed, pouted, and flitted through emotions at a truly dizzying pace.
Long after his company had been considerate enough to take their leave, Genyou lingered on Sunlit Bliss Hill. Occasionally, a gentle breeze would sweep through and tickle his sleeves.
Genyou took the flute hanging from his hip and brought it to his lips. Zhi, jue, zhi, jue, gong, yu. Sol, mi, sol, mi, do, la. The melody was like a gentle cycle of ripples and tidal waves—and it belonged to the song Gomei had once carved into the mausoleum. After all these years, it was finally with peace of mind that Genyou could play the requiem that sightless man had loved.
Praying that the notes would melt into the light and reach his brother on the other side, he wove his melody at a leisurely pace.
Tweet…
After playing the last note and savoring its final echoes, Genyou knelt on the spot. He set the flute down upon the bump in the dirt, bloodstained tassel and all.
“You can have this back now, Brother.”
“Wouldn’t you be better off burying it with him?” came a voice from behind him, prompting Genyou to look up. “Wait, bet you can’t dig the hole yourself. Emperors can be so sheltered, I tell you.”
Akim was sitting in a tree a short distance away. Apparently, he had been hiding amid the foliage the whole time, having only pretended to leave with Gyoumei and the others.
The spy leaped to the ground as nimbly as a cat, while Genyou shot him a scowl. “Watch your tone.”
“Don’t think I will. You’re not my boss anymore.” With a shrug, Akim crouched right next to Genyou. He pulled out a knife dart, effortlessly dug a deep hole, and placed the flute straight inside. “But I’ll give you this one free of charge.”