Chương 38: Karma

"A token from Ancestor Qing?" Bai Ning asked skeptically. Mo Jian shot her a flat look.

"Your enthusiasm is overwhelming, disciple. Try being a little less supportive." Bai Ning smiled apologetically before turning the token over in her hands. It was a simple rectangle of white jade, a single golden character gleaming on its surface.

"Sorry, Master, but I still don't see how this helps us. Wouldn't a powerful artifact or a few spirit stones have been more useful?" Mo Jian sighed.

"That's because you don't understand what you're holding. That token is essentially a promise of Ancestor Qing's backing. If we show it, he'll have to lend us aid, otherwise, his word would lose all value. Think about it: even Han Wenqing and his mistress wouldn't dare push us around with this in hand." Bai Ning's eyes widened, hope dawning.

"Then that means…" Mo Jian smiled faintly.

"It means the time for hiding is over. Prince Xuan might not know who exactly I was afraid of, but he must have realized that whoever it was could drive a late-stage Core Formation cultivator into seclusion. He probably suspects it's one of the major powers in the Islands. The fact that he still gave me this token means that he, and by extension, the Alliance, are serious about backing us. It's not a cure for all ills, but it's a safety net. We can go home." Home.

The word echoed in Bai Ning's mind as her fingers tightened around the jade. She'd thought of it often these past few days, always as a dream, never a possibility. But now...

"That's the best news I've heard in days," she said softly, a grin spreading across her face.

"But, do you think Ancestor Qing actually knows his token's being handed out like this? What if he claims later he wasn't informed?" Even as she said it, her tone was doubtful. Who would dare offend a Nascent Soul existence by doing something so reckless? Judging by the look Mo Jian gave her, he clearly thought she'd lost her mind.

"Bai Ning," he said slowly, as if speaking to a small child, "that would be the single stupidest thing anyone could do. Of course, Ancestor Qing knows. No one would dare hand out his personal token without his consent. He might not know every detail, but he must have authorized Prince Xuan Zhaoting to use it as needed. This is basic common sense; did you hit your head somewhere?" Bai Ning stomped on his foot in retaliation, but her strike rebounded off him like she'd kicked a slab of iron.

Mo Jian's grin turned smug.

"You still have much to learn, disciple." She rolled her eyes. What happened to 'no question is a stupid question'? Typical Master. She traced her fingers along the jade token's edges for a few moments before slipping it into her storage pouch. Master Mo Jian had insisted she carry it- "You're a trouble magnet, Bai Ning, and thus need it far more than I do," he'd said. She could have rolled her eyes again, but she couldn't deny there was truth to it. That still left one thing unresolved.

"What of the bone shard, Master?" she asked, secretly hoping he would say, Give it to me; I'll destroy it here and now, then we leave. Knowing her luck, it would never be so simple. Mo Jian's cheer drained away. He massaged the bridge of his nose and let out a long breath.

"Right, that." His tone turned sour.

"That thing stretched the meeting out forever. I'd like to say it was handled with grace, but Jin Rong nearly came to blows with the Prince over it more than once. The good news: its fate is decided, and I agree with it. We'll destroy it. The bad news: we have to do it in front of everyone so there's no chance of any underhanded tricks." Bai Ning cocked her head. Destroying it in public sounded reasonable.

"Why's that bad?" Mo Jian gave a humorless chuckle.

"Because now it becomes an entire production. We could've just reduced it to ash, but instead we'll have to use the Prachand Chalisa to release its negativity and send it off properly." Seeing her puzzled look, he added, "It's a ritual for purifying ghosts and evil spirits. You've never heard of it because, frankly, it's mostly ceremonial. Like royal etiquette: a lot of made-up rules that do nothing when easier methods exist." Ah.

Bai Ning filed that away mentally – another one of her master's pet peeves, like his opinions on tea or diviners. Good to know for future blackmail. She steered the conversation to the question that mattered.

"Was the shard's fate ever in doubt? Wouldn't the Righteous Alliance want it removed forever? It's no use to them."

"It promises power," Mo Jian corrected.

"Sometimes that's enough. If the Alliance were firmer, it would've vanished into their deepest vaults under the pretense of 'sealing away the evil.' But someone would have dug it up later, and then we'd have another catastrophe. Prince Xuan pushed hard to get it handed over to him, but Jin Rong, quite blessedly actually, said he'd rather see it destroyed than let the Alliance take it." Mo Jian grinned.

"I suspect the prince felt a bit betrayed when I supported Jin Rong in the matter. Thankfully Li Deng and Chi Shen also sided with us, so we had the numbers. That's why we're doing the ritual tomorrow; any delay and the prince could rally allies and demand custody. If that happens, I won't be able to refuse. Right now both of us depend on his goodwill too much." Bai Ning nodded. Politics like this was bread and butter for every sect. She'd seen it all growing up as the daughter of a sect leader.

Then one line sank in.

"Wait," she said.

"When you say, 'we're doing it tomorrow,' you mean you, right, Master? You mean yourself?" Mo Jian's smile was a layered thing: part schadenfreude, part genuine misery.

"No, disciple.

'We' in this instance means both of us." ……………… Bai Ning soon learned why Mo Jian had called the whole thing a waste of time. The next morning, Prince Xuan began the ceremony with three straight hours of prayer, if it could even be called that. Hundreds of paper talismans were burned in succession, all beseeching the Thunder Agency to take notice. Before long, half the attendees were visibly bored, and the other half had simply started that way.

Mo Jian, for his part, spent the entire three hours poorly stifling yawns. Then came the "purification" phase. As the main participants, Mo Jian and Bai Ning had to meditate under a waterfall for nearly an hour. She had honestly thought her master was joking when he'd first mentioned it, but no, it was very real. And very cold. Bai Ning had a sinking feeling the ritual might fail because of her; she wasn't exactly meditating so much as compiling an ever-expanding list of complaints about the entire affair.

Who even sat under waterfalls these days? Wasn't that something people did centuries ago? Apparently not. Both she and Master Mo Jian had to endure the torture together. Worse still, he looked perfectly calm, as if meditating under freezing water was his idea of comfort. Bai Ning suspected it was the advantage of higher cultivation, and thus concluded, with complete fairness, that her master was a cheating cheater who deserved to be tripped on the way out.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. The logic of this entire ceremony baffled her, and she was rapidly coming around to Mo Jian's view that it was nothing but an overcomplicated waste of time. After an hour of that came the funeral service. Yes, a funeral service. Thankfully, though it lasted longer than the prayers and meditation combined, it was at least more bearable.

A small shrine had been erected atop a nearby hill, and the participants had gathered around its base to continue their endless chanting. Only Mo Jian and Bai Ning were required to climb to the top and offer their personal prayers. She'd almost asked why they were being allowed to go alone – wasn't the entire purpose of this spectacle to ensure that the destruction of the bone shard happened in full view of everyone? But she quickly realized the answer.

The spiritual senses of every Core Formation cultivator present had already wrapped around the hill like a second skin. They were being watched at every step. The climb itself was trivial; Bai Ning had conquered mountains far taller. The shrine, however, was unimpressive, consisting of a low table with three incense sticks burning steadily, with the bone shard resting before them on a white silk pillow. The moment they reached the shrine, Mo Jian visibly relaxed. In fact, he looked downright bored.

He turned to her and said, "You can relax too, Bai Ning. There's nothing left to do except offer a sincere prayer and hope it works. Otherwise, we'll just have to repeat this tedious nonsense until it does." She frowned.

"Aren't the others listening in? You're being awfully casual about this." Mo Jian shook his head.

"They're watching, not listening. The ritual requires a prayer from the heart to succeed, and their role is to release their qi in accordance. But a prayer that's spied upon is hardly sincere. No, this is as close to privacy as we're going to get until we leave this island behind." Huh. Still, she had a burning question.

"A sincere prayer? Would something like that really work?" Mo Jian grimaced.

"That's half the reason no one likes this ritual. It's far too subjective. Just do your best." She turned to him, incredulous.

"Me? What about you? Aren't we supposed to be doing this together?"

"Hardly," Mo Jian said.

"You're the one who claimed the shard wanted to pass on, so you're the one best suited to help it do that. I'm just here to make sure nothing untoward happens." She rolled her eyes. That sounded an awful lot like her master ducking responsibility. Still, she smoothed down her robes, knelt before the shrine, and clasped her hands in a gesture of respect. Closing her eyes, she whispered a simple prayer: Pass on, and rest in peace.

When she opened them, the bone shard sat unmoved upon its white pillow, gleaming faintly in the sun. Bai Ning's shoulders slumped.

"Keep trying," Master Mo Jian advised lazily.

"We have until sundown. After that, if it doesn't work, we'll just have to repeat this whole tedious process tomorrow." Bai Ning squinted at him.

"What does a sincere prayer even mean? How am I supposed to know if it works?" Her master had the audacity to shrug.

"It's a prayer from the heart. Think of it as genuinely wanting to help someone move on. You said the shard wanted to die, didn't you? Strange for a Gu, yes, but imagine it like helping it fulfill that wish." That didn't help much. But it did remind her of something she'd been meaning to ask. And since they had a rare moment of privacy…

"Master," she began carefully, not looking back at him, "are you still mad about the pill?" They hadn't spoken of it, and he hadn't treated her any differently, but she could tell. He hadn't approved of her choice, and after the whole ordeal with the Gu, she wasn't sure she did either. For a long while, he said nothing. She'd begun to think he wouldn't answer at all when his voice came, quiet and measured."'Mad' isn't the right word," he said.

"I don't approve, true. But I understand why you did it. None of that makes me comfortable with it, but I meant what I said. It was your decision to make." He paused, as if considering his next words, then shifted slightly.

"Are you regretting it?" Bai Ning hesitated.

"Maybe. It's just that…" She bit her lip.

"I know I said I'd take on the bad karma that came with it, but surely it's over now, right? A bad action resulting in consequences. Isn't that how the scale balances?" Mo Jian sighed. He sounded weary.

"Ask a hundred monks what karma is, and you'll get a hundred different answers. Ask the greatest cultivator or the poorest beggar, and you'll still find neither of them truly understand. I don't either. How is it measured? When? Upon death? During rebirth? The cycle of reincarnation is real enough, but the laws that govern it are beyond mortal minds." He gazed toward the horizon.

"This is what I believe: one good act does not erase a thousand evil ones. And one evil act cannot be washed away by a thousand good deeds. Karma isn't a balance sheet; it's consequence. Good and evil in harmony, not opposition. Maybe the pill will leave no mark. Maybe it will ruin you. There's no way to know, and perhaps that's mercy, in its own way." He smiled faintly, almost to himself.

"Even the Buddha could not unravel it, and so he transcended the system entirely. Maybe that's the clearest answer of them all." That wasn't what she wanted to hear, but Master Mo Jian had never been one to shy away from difficult truths. She turned her head, studying him as the sun began its journey from the top to the western horizon. Its golden light caught on his features, casting a long shadow behind him, both tall and dark.

He looked much as he had when she first met him: somewhat stout, hair thinning at the crown, expression perpetually tired. But there were changes too. His face was softer now, his eyes brighter. He'd lost enough weight to seem almost stately, and his hair – though still sporting that bald spot – was thicker and healthier. She wondered if he knew. There were no mirrors in their cave dwelling, and he wasn't the type to care about appearances. But over the years, he'd begun to look almost… heroic.

Like the kind of cultivator she imagined from stories; someone who appeared to save the innocent and punish the wicked. She turned back to the shrine, her voice barely above a whisper.

"That doesn't feel like a good answer."

"There are no good answers," Mo Jian said quietly.

"Not when it comes to things like this. All we can do is live the way we believe is best. Many don't care at all; they say the system is broken, so do what you want and ignore karma. Maybe that's as good an answer as any. It's just not one I care to believe in, so I don't." Bai Ning bit her lip, a small smile tugging at her mouth. That sounded like him: believe what you will, but hold fast to decency all the same.

"Your karma must be good then, Master," she said.

"After all, you saved me. Maybe if you don't become an immortal, you'll reincarnate as a king." Mo Jian scoffed.

"As if. The only being with good karma in this world is probably an infant too young to know right from wrong. Everyone else is destined for hell. Especially me, for unleashing the plague known as Bai Ning upon this poor worl-" He didn't finish the sentence. A sharp whoosh cut through the air as a small fireball zipped past his ear, missing by an inch.

"- d!" he finished, yelping and ducking instinctively. Bai Ning folded her arms, looking entirely unrepentant.

"Maybe start by not slandering your disciple during a sacred ritual, Master." Mo Jian straightened, brushing imaginary ash from his sleeve, though his grin was wide.

"I swear, one of these days you'll set me on fire for real."

"Only if you deserve it," Bai Ning replied sweetly.

"Which, according to you, is every other day."

"Exactly." He sighed, long-suffering, and turned his attention back to the shrine.

"Alright, enough questions. Think about what you felt when you first decided this thing needed to be destroyed, and not stored or used. That certainty. A prayer doesn't have to be kind, only true." That echoed one of his earliest lessons: A cultivator does not need kindness or virtue, only to be true to their own heart. She bowed low again, words eluding her despite everything they had just discussed. Instead, she simply held the desire in her heart: for the fragment before her to move on.

Whatever being it had once belonged to, whether evil, misguided, or merely lost; now it was dead, and wanted to pass on completely. The dead deserved at least that much respect.

'What land do the dead belong to?' Hadn't that been what Master Chanakya once asked her? The answer was simple.

'All of them, and none.' When Bai Ning opened her eyes, she knew without looking that it had worked. Something like a sigh passed through the air – soft, almost human – and the shard of bone crumbled into dust upon the white pillow. The ashes lifted, scattering into the breeze, vanishing into the light. From below came a sudden release of qi, a surge that rolled through the hill like a wave. Then, slowly, the sky bloomed. Like a thousand lanterns taking flight, spheres of soft light rose into the air.

Gold and green, white and violet, crimson, silver, blue, and every color between. They drifted upward, glowing faintly against the afternoon sky, each one echoing a whisper or a farewell, like a soul returning home. They watched the lights ascend for a moment, before Mo Jian pressed his hands together once in respect and turned to leave. Bai Ning exhaled slowly.

"It's… over?" she asked. Mo Jian nodded, stretching.

"Come on, disciple. We've done our duty. Let's get off this accursed hill before someone decides to hold another round of prayers." She looked at the shrine for a moment, then followed him. The sky above was bright with lights, a clear contrast to the lengthening shadows and dimming light of the setting sun. As they descended, Bai Ning found herself looking forward to going home. She couldn't wait to see her parents after such a long while.