Chapter 90:
Fellow Disciples
HONGJUN AND A-TAI stepped out from behind the folding screen. Li Guinian was sitting calmly beneath the ginkgo tree in Gold Blossom’s Fall.
“I’m in the middle of composing a song for the noble consort’s birthday,” he said breezily. “What a coincidence to meet here.”
The atmosphere shifted, taking on an eerie quality. A strange aura emanated from A-Tai as he shuffled a half step forward, putting himself between Hongjun and Li Guinian. Hongjun had only ever seen him look so serious during a fight.
“Is there something we can help you with?” A-Tai asked with a thin smile.
“There is indeed a topic on which I would certainly love to seek your counsel,” Li Guinian said. “However, seeing as the two of you slipped into the palace this late at night, I suppose you have more important matters to attend to. You’re here for the Marquis of Yardang, are you not?”
“We are,” A-Tai answered.
“I can take you to the marquis,” Li Guinian said pleasantly. “But after that, why don’t we have a chat, Prince Tigra?”
Before A-Tai could respond, Li Guinan was rising to his feet. Shouldering his pipa, he motioned for them to follow and strode toward the door.
Hongjun strained his memory, trying to recall when Li Guinian and A-Tai might have become acquainted. The only time they saw each other was when we visited the Spring Oriole in Pingkang Ward. What’s going on?
“The marquis has only been temporarily detained, not thrown in the dungeons,” Li Guinian explained as he led them down a small winding path around Xingqing Palace’s side hall and through a peaceful flower garden. He glanced over his shoulder at A-Tai. “Did you find the person you were seeking when you left so abruptly last time?”
A-Tai smiled. “So you did notice me—as I’d expect of Master Li Guinian.”
Li Guinian beamed back. “I dare not accept such a lofty title. I did consider offering my help that day, seeing as you followed me all that way. But given your mastery of Saint Shirin’s teachings and the support of all your good brothers, I assumed whatever obstacle you faced would pose little challenge.”
From this brief exchange, Hongjun inferred an astronomical wealth of information. He was no longer as naive as he had been when he first arrived in Chang’an, and he was now struck by a thought—could Li Guinian be the real Xie Yu?
“Who are you?!” Hongjun asked sharply. “Li Guinian, are you human or yao?”
“What on earth are you thinking?” A-Tai rapped Hongjun on the back of the head with his fan, exasperated. Li Guinian burst into laughter.
“Granted, I did suspect you too, Li Guinian,” A-Tai admitted. “That night when we listened to your performance, I sensed there was more to your playing than met the eye. That’s why I followed you the night the chief and the rest of my brothers disappeared—I thought you might be working with the fox yao who’d captured them.”
Hongjun started in surprise. A mystery from months past was suddenly unraveled: A-Tai, who had claimed to have fallen asleep beneath a bridge, had in fact been tailing Li Guinian.
“I apologize for my lack of candor,” Li Guinian said, his voice measured. “But I’m afraid I’ve my own troubles… Ah, we’re here.”
Stepping through the flower garden, they arrived at last at a secluded side courtyard surrounded by members of the Longwu Guard. This was where suspected criminals were detained pending trial.
For a moment, no one moved. A-Tai glanced at Li Guinian, who unslung his pipa in tacit understanding. After a moment of consideration, he ran his fingers lightly over the strings. A cascade of notes spilled out like drifting clouds and flowing water, and the guards outside the courtyard slumped over, asleep.
“This is…” Hongjun murmured. It was the same spiritual technique used by A-Tai.
A-Tai smiled. “If my guess is correct, Master Li Guinian is my dashixiong.”5
He raised his right hand to the left side of his chest, palm up in a flying flame salute, and bowed toward Li Guinian. Li Guinian returned the gesture, then inclined his head to Hongjun. “Go on; the Marquis of Yardang is inside.”
Li Jinglong was sitting in a corner, lost in thought, when he heard Hongjun’s voice outside. “Jinglong!”
Jumping to his feet, he hurried to the iron bars of the window and came face-to-face with Hongjun. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, furious. “Did those guys send you?”
“I wanted to come.” Hongjun turned to look for the lock. There was a light snick as his throwing knife sliced through the latch with ease. He shoved the iron door open at the same moment Li Jinglong rushed forward to stop him, smacking Li Jinglong square in the forehead with a loud thud.
Li Jinglong staggered back, head spinning. Scared witless, Hongjun rapidly apologized while Li Jinglong waved a hand. “It’s okay; it’s been a while since I’ve been so unlucky…”
“It’s already swelling. Let me rub it for you,” Hongjun said. “It’s a good thing I didn’t break your nose.”
Li Jinglong didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Pulling Hongjun into his arms, he heaved a sigh.
“Let’s go!” Hongjun urged.
“I can’t,” Li Jinglong said, coming back to his senses. “Did you come alone? Did anyone see you?”
As Hongjun gave Li Jinglong a detailed account of their journey, Li Jinglong’s eyes widened with surprise. “I didn’t expect Li Guinian to be an ally… But why would he reveal himself now? It may only make things more difficult.”
Outside, Li Guinian and A-Tai stood quietly on the parade grounds. Moonlight spilled down from above, washing their faces in pale light.
“For ten years, I’ve been searching for a certain something,” Li Guinian said, finally serious. “Perhaps this is why you’ve come to the Central Plains as well.”
A-Tai frowned. “That’s just a legend—even my teacher couldn’t say for sure if it was true.” He sighed. “I’ve long since given up on finding it. Why are you still looking? Dashixiong, you really are patient, staying in Chang’an all these years.”
“Back when Saint Shirin traveled to the Central Plains, I was the only one of the three Li brothers lucky enough to learn the basics of the Celestial Song technique from her. Nevertheless, my name is not recorded among her formal disciples, Prince Tigra, so please don’t address me as such.”
“Was she the one who gave you the task of finding the sacred flame?” A-Tai asked.
Li Guinian nodded solemnly, waiting for A-Tai’s next question.
“The sacred flame Atar will burn forever, incinerating all filth and illuminating the darkness for eternity,” A-Tai began.
“He who holds the sacred flame will possess the power of the prophet Zoroaster. To the followers of light and the children of fire, seeing this flame is akin to meeting with Mani, Zoroaster, or Ahura Mazda. Follow in their footsteps, doing good and destroying evil, and you will live in the paradise of the gods of light…forever,” Li Guinian finished. “If you wish to restore your nation, it would surely be much easier if you had the sacred flame.”
“Something even Mani failed to find,” A-Tai said, shaking his head. “It’s an impossible task. I doubt it ever existed.”
“It did exist,” Li Guinian said. “Our teacher, the saint herself, came to the Central Plains all those years ago precisely to investigate this matter. The legends tell that nearly a thousand years ago, a group of Sogdians removed the sacred flame from the Western Regions. When Xie Yu made Chang’an his seat and became the shadow king of the Central Plains several decades ago, I realized he must be linked to this matter.”
A-Tai started in surprise. “Xie Yu has it?” he asked, his voice low.
“No,” Li Guinian responded. “However, the sacred flame is closely tied to the heavenly demon. What have you learned in your investigation?”
The flow of air around them underwent a sudden shift. Li Guinian and A-Tai whipped their heads around as black clouds swarmed toward them from all sides. Li Guinian swung his cloak, and a blast of mist burst from the ground, enveloping him and A-Tai as they disappeared without a trace.
In the side courtyard, Li Jinglong met Hongjun’s eyes and said earnestly, “Listen to me. Right now, I can’t leave this place under any circumstances.”
Hongjun huffed out a sigh. Feeling helpless, Li Jinglong reached out to take his hand. Hongjun flung him off.