Chapter 30 Rui
Rui
Madam Meng’s kettle and tea leaves were already laid out when Rui arrived. As they waited for the brew, Rui polished her swords,
keeping her nerves in check.
The old lady observed her. “The yang in your weapons can work against the yin in the realm of the dead, but using them exposes
your presence. And because your soul belongs to the land of the living, the ritual will strip most of your yangqi so that
your soul can exist in the underworld for a time. That means your weapons may fail to work. Would you still go to the realm
of the dead if I said you had to go unarmed?”
Rui met her gaze. “Yes.” It wasn’t just Zizi she was trying to save. Ash, her father and friends, her city and all the innocent
lives—they were all relying on her.
Madam Meng seemed satisfied with her answer. “If the ritual goes as planned, ordinary souls will not be able to sense that
your soul is still living, but the Kings and Guardians can,” she warned.
“You haven’t told me how to get to Naihe Bridge,” Rui said pointedly.
“Follow the river. It winds through the capital and all ten kingdoms. Go north, and where the river ends, you will find the
bridge.”
“Can you draw me a map?”
Madam Meng shook her head. “I have already revealed more than I should. You are a clever mortal. I am sure you will find your
way . . . eventually.”
Rui frowned. Everything Madam Meng said seemed to have a double meaning.
“Remember,” Madam Meng added, “this will not be a vision. It is a visit to the underworld by your actual soul. Your mortal essence will start to deplete from the moment you arrive. Do not sleep, however tempting, for it will be a slumber you will not rise from. You have twelve hours to accomplish your goal. The Lady of the Pavilion will be waiting at Naihe Bridge to usher your soul safely back to the mortal realm. If you are late, you will not be able to cross it.”
And if I don’t make it across, my soul will be trapped in the underworld. Rui swallowed hard. “I’ve two more questions. Why are you helping me?”
“Do my reasons matter?”
“I suppose not, but indulge me since, you know”—Rui finger-gunned humorlessly—“I might die or whatever.”
“It may surprise you, but I do know how it feels to lose someone you love,” Madam Meng said almost haughtily. “I understand
what it means to fight and sacrifice for them.”
It wasn’t an answer Rui had expected. Who exactly was Madam Meng? “Second question,” she said, scraping at her ragged fingernails. “Is there a chance I could meet my mother’s
soul?”
Madam Meng’s expression softened. “I do not think so. The underworld is a vast place. Souls who have led unremarkable mortal
lives do not stay long in the underworld, for there is no need for prolonged judgment. It is likely that her soul has already
been reborn.”
Rui hid her disappointment. “Any last words of advice?”
The old lady pushed the teacup forward. “Not advice, but cautionary wisdom. Fate is a loom, and the lives of mortals are its
threads. Two souls may be fated to meet, but it does not mean they are destined to be together.”
An image flashed in Rui’s mind: a boy and a girl laughing in a room filled with books, staring up at a ceiling of false stars.
You fool. To hell with fate.
To hell with fate.
It had sounded like a promise.
“I’ll make my own fate,” she said. Feeling oddly unafraid, she picked up the cup and drank. The warm tea went down smoothly.
It didn’t taste like anything at all, not even water.
Without warning, the tearoom vanished. She felt herself dropping from a great height. A scream caught in her throat, but she was falling so fast it became a gurgle.
Seconds later, she landed with a thud.
Oddly, it didn’t hurt as much as she would’ve assumed. She ran a hand across the ground. Carpet—something thick and luxurious
that cushioned her fall. A bespoke scent that felt like it had the words ambergris and orris and oud in its ingredient list wafted in the air. It was what she imagined an extravagant five-star hotel on an exclusive invitation-only
island would smell like.
Rui got to her feet, relieved she wasn’t just a phantom this time. She was solid, and her body worked the same way it did
in the human realm. And while she didn’t have her swords with her, she felt their presence.
She scanned her surroundings. The long corridor stretched on forever, and a row of doors lined both sides. Each door was made
of a different material, and each had a curiouser design than the last. Subtle backlighting ran across the edges of the ceiling,
and the sconces on the walls shone as if they were polished daily. There was even peaceful piano music piped in from somewhere.
This wasn’t the terrifying cavern where Zizi was imprisoned. Had her soul gone off course during the tea ritual? She had to
get back on track, but how?
She could try one of the doors, but there were so many. Choosing one was like playing roulette; none of them looked like they
would lead to the dungeon where Zizi was kept. In the end, she settled on a simple, nondescript one, but before she could
open it, the doorknob turned by itself.
A woman strode out. She had an air of efficiency, and she was dressed in a navy-blue suit and sensible shoes. She smiled brightly
at Rui.
“You must be the new soul assigned to serve the King of the Fourth Court. Welcome! I wasn’t expecting you yet, but I guess
it’s good you’re early. We’re shorthanded, so things have been hectic. I’m afraid I’ll need you to start right after our orientation
tour. The Inner Court is very different from the rest of the kingdom—lots of doors, lots of passages, different routes to different parts of the kingdom and the rest of the underworld.
But don’t worry, you’ll mostly be stationed here.
A map will also be uploaded to your tablet once we get you registered for one.
Mind you, though, we’re expected to have all the routes memorized, so you’re only allowed the map during your two-week probation period. ”
As the woman rambled, a phrase registered in Rui’s mind.
The King of the Fourth Court.
At least she knew where she was. But why was Zizi here? If Four’s soul had overpowered his, then the ritual wouldn’t have worked, would it? Their connection would have been
lost. Since Rui was here, did it mean that Zizi was all right? She didn’t dare to get her hopes up. The woman in the suit had mentioned a map.
It would make navigating the underworld much easier if she could get her hands on it.
The woman stared at her tablet and squinted at Rui. “Hmm . . . you don’t match the photograph on file. Cosmetic surgery in
the mortal world doesn’t carry over to the underworld. Your soul’s face should be your birth face.”
“The other girl asked for a transfer because she was too scared to join the Inner Court, and I volunteered to replace her,”
Rui said earnestly. “Figured it would be a good upgrade from my previous job. I mean, look at this place, and look at what
I’m wearing.” Letting out a cheesy laugh, she pointed at her worn jeans and old sweater.
Rui’s lie went down smoothly, and the woman’s smile stretched wider—and a little prouder. “I can see why working in the Inner
Court sounds intimidating, but the perks are wonderful, especially now that our true King is back.” She lowered her voice. “We were so terrified of the Tenth King when he was regent,
but thank the Elder Gods, everything’s back to normal, more or less.”
Our true King is back? What did that mean? And who were the Elder Gods? Rui hid her bewilderment. The woman seemed nice enough. More importantly,
she seemed willing to talk, which made her a valuable source of information.
Putting on her best conspiratorial voice, Rui said, “Are things really back to normal?”
The woman hesitated. “I mean, now that all ten of them are present, I’m sure the Kings will handle the Nothing and get rid
of it eventually.”
Eventually . . . Madam Meng wasn’t lying. The Nothing was still de-stabilizing the underworld, and it was affecting the mortal realm too. Time
was of the essence; Rui had to work quickly to gain this woman’s trust and get passage around the Courts.
“Speaking of the Kings,” she whispered, “I shouldn’t be telling anyone this on my first day here, but there’s a rumor in the
Tenth Court that Ten isn’t a natural blond—that little immortal bitch has to use his powers to maintain his beautiful flaxen
locks.”
The young woman’s eyes lit up, and Rui could almost see her brain sparking from this delicious piece of gossip. The audacity
to call a King of Hell a little bitch . . . It impressed her.
“P-please don’t tell anyone I said that,” Rui stammered, pretending to be anxious. “I got carried away.”
“Don’t worry, everyone loathes the Tenth King.” The young woman steepled her hands over her head. “This is a cone of silence. I won’t tell anyone. I’m Lyn,
by the way.”
Rui grinned back. “I’m Darcy.”
“That’s a cute name.” Lyn tapped her touchscreen. “I refreshed the file, but I still don’t have the updated details of your
transfer yet.”
“I bet they’re upgrading the system again and there was a glitch, but they’re pretending everything is fine as usual.” Rui
rolled her eyes dramatically. “They never tell you anything, do they? But if anything goes wrong, you get the blame. It’s so unfair.”
Nodding enthusiastically, Lyn tucked her tablet under her arm in a way that suggested she wasn’t concerned about the discrepancy anymore and she’d simply accepted Rui was who she said she was.
Rui’s gamble had paid off. A shared frustration toward corporate bureaucracy and the intimacy of gossip-bonding were indeed powerful tools.
The fact that things in the afterlife were so similar to the mortal realm made it exactly what it was supposed to be: Hell.
Just then, the door to their right opened with a bang. An older man stuck his head out. He was dressed in a navy suit similar