A Slightly Twisted World - 2
Shiwandaishan. Even folks who claim to have read a bit of wuxia know the name—ten out of ten have heard it—but seven out of those ten couldn't tell you its exact location. It's a legendary stretch smack in Guangxi, yet for some reason, everyone mistakes it for somewhere in Xinjiang. A tragic case of mistaken geography. And despite all that, its image as the Demonic Cult's stronghold is rock-solid: a dark, foreboding place.
How the hell did a Vietnamese mountain range end up as the Demonic Cult's HQ? They didn't need to invoke some cult leader's divine power to shift the peaks; Xinjiang's got the stunningly named Tianshan range. Tianshan—heaven's mountains. Perfect spot to chant "Demonic Cult forever, eternal glory!" So why Shiwandaishan? I just can't wrap my head around it. Was it worth enduring the "Nguyen Heavenly Demon" stigma? If I had to guess, maybe the "hundred thousand" in the name was ripe for jokes about a hundred thousand cultists—
"My lord, one more, please."
Jo Wi-cheo's voice snapped me out of it.
"Take 'em all."
"Thank you, sir."
I shoved the entire pile of mangoes from the seat beside me over to him. The guy almost never asks me for anything first, so handing over some fruit? No big deal.
That good, huh?
It was a little surprising. Jo Wi-cheo prefers meat over veggies and booze over fruit, yet here he was, gnawing on mangoes the whole ride in the carriage toward Shiwandaishan. I'd eaten plenty in my past life, so it was whatever to me, but for someone tasting one for the first time? Yeah, I could see getting hooked. Mangoes pack a punch.
Bet he'd devour pineapples too if he tried 'em.
Of course, Southeast Asian mangoes are one thing; pineapples are a New World import, so no dice. Unless Dong-gu Wang's ships crossed the Pacific already. Anyway, I glanced at Jo Wi-cheo popping another mango into his mouth, then turned away.
The Baekryeon Cult Leader's request.
I rubbed my chin, recalling Dong-gu Wang's words unbidden. In this world, unlike the Ming-era wuxia where the Baekryeon Cult got crushed and twisted into a demonic sect, it's one of the Song's major religions—boldly so. Its status rivals Confucianism, the bedrock of governance. Makes sense, since Taizu, who booted the Mongols and rebuilt the Song, hailed from the cult. Low status would be the real oddity.
Even the current Baekryeon Cult Leader's imperial blood.
He'd declared he wouldn't accept imperial treatment to focus on the cult, but no one's lunatic enough to treat him like a commoner. The Emperor himself shows utmost respect—what fool would dare otherwise? And this leader asks a favor of someone. From a king, no less.
Damn it all.
Both the asker and the askee were heavyweights; just thinking about it made my limbs tremble. And my own pathetic position, sandwiched between imperial kin and royalty? Tears welled up.
You bastards.
It even dragged my mind back to those water bandit scum—upper and lower halves express-delivered to Dong-gu Wang. I could curse them a thousand times and it still wouldn't be enough. Was slicing them with the executioner's blade too merciful?
...What the hell is this about, really?
But even that boiling rage cooled fast at the thought of the Baekryeon Cult Leader's request. The Central Plains are a freakshow of bizarre events on a normal day, but anything involving him? Impossible to predict. Is he prepping to devolve from cult leader to Heavenly Demon via wuxia plot armor? Did he ask Dong-gu Wang to conquer the Central Plains and clear the path to the capital? Insane thoughts, but that's how clueless I was.
"Don't stress too much. Few can answer the Baekryeon Cult Leader's calls, but the request itself is simple enough."
Dong-gu Wang—who knew the details—offered useless platitudes like "you'll see when you get there." Guy's age must be catching up; dementia's setting in. Few can fulfill it, but it's easy? What kind of logic is that? If few can do it, isn't that the definition of hard?
Kings are all weirdoes.
The higher the status, the more inscrutable their minds—beyond us normies. A truth I'd learned over twenty-plus years.
Near the entrance to Shiwandaishan sits a village housing the Baekryeon Cult's leadership. They call it Baekryeon Village, straight-up borrowing the cult's name. When I first heard about Shiwandaishan and the cult, I pictured deep mountain hermits, but nope—just a village on flat ground. Makes sense; even cultists get tired climbing peaks daily.
"Halt. This is territory designated by Taizu for the Baekryeon Cult Leader. Even Song officials must refrain from unauthorized entry."
As we entered Baekryeon Village, a stern-faced gatekeeper blocked the carriage. I wasn't annoyed. As he said, it's Taizu-granted land, a de facto extraterritorial zone endorsed by the current Emperor. No official barges in without cause.
"I'm Jwa-cheom Do-eosa Han Un, sent by His Highness Dong-gu Wang."
"Baekryeon Village welcomes the Jwa-cheom Do-eosa's visit!"
Of course I had cause. The gatekeeper flipped attitudes the second he heard.
"Aigoo, my lord! We're so grateful you've come!"
Whether senior to the first guy or not, another gatekeeper—who'd been yawning behind—rushed over at my title, bowing frantically. His desperation nearly made me flinch. If a mere guard's this worked up, the leadership must've been hounding them nonstop. The Cult Leader was dying for Dong-gu Wang's man.
"The Leader instructed us to guide you immediately upon arrival!"
"Then let's hurry. Can't keep a busy man waiting."
"Such consideration! Thank you!"
Relief washed over him—no more ass-chewing from above. He plopped into the driver's seat with ferocious energy.
Wait, you up there? Don't need to guard the gate?
"B-brother. Carriages inside Baekryeon are forbi—"
"Pah! Nitpick every little rule, how'll we handle big matters?!"
Was that my imagination? Sounded like he was about to say "forbidden."
Ain't village rules 'little'?
And if it's the village's rules, didn't the Cult Leader make 'em? Nah, whatever. Don't sweat it.
"By the way."
"Call me Jang U, sir!"
"Right, Jang U. Any idea why the Leader's awaiting me?"
"Of course!"
I'd tossed it out casually, no expectations, but Jang U nodded vigorously. What? Did they drill the gatekeepers for this?
"Urgent rites needed at Aishan!"
Ah.
That cleared up all my doubts. No wonder the Cult Leader suddenly needed someone; it'd check out.
Aishan is Song's national holy site—sacred and noble to every citizen. It's out on the fringe like Shiwandaishan, but the reason's simple.
"I shall never be reborn of imperial blood!"
"If Heaven would destroy Great Song, sink my entire fleet to the depths!"
The last Southern Song Emperor and his great generals uttered those immortal words in final defiance against the Mongols before vanishing. For the current court—proud successors rebuilding the Song—Aishan's untouchable. Bluntly, it's perfect for stoking patriotism and loyalty among scholars and commoners alike. Even me, a reincarnator, gets choked up hearing the tales; imagine the locals.
So an emergency rite at Aishan? That's dire.
"Lately, waves around Aishan have been unnatural. Storms and lightning hit out of nowhere—folks say it's the grudge of soldiers slain by Mongols howling."
He whispered, wary of eavesdroppers.
"We hold annual rites to soothe those poor souls, but this year's persisted post-ceremony. So the Leader deemed a redo necessary."
"Tough on the Leader."
"Tell me about it. What in the world...?"
I scratched my head as Jang U shuddered like it was an omen.
Just bad luck.
Thankfully, no ill portent. Life throws high waves and flashy storms sometimes. Just happening near Aishan now—unfortunate timing. The Leader probably thinks rites are bullshit too, but with commoners witnessing the Aishan spectacle? Gotta show piety. Only then can they relax back to normalcy. Vengeful ghosts in limbo or whatever? Not my problem. The living matter.
...How'd the rite go again?
I recalled the Aishan rite procedures I'd pieced together. For martyred heroes at a national shrine, it's elaborate and finicky. The key, annoying part? That's why I raced from Zhejiang to Shiwandaishan.
At minimum: one royal attendee.
Cult Leader's religious clout plus secular heavyweight royalty. Essential for Aishan rites.
Damn it.
Dong-gu Wang forgot his family and sent me instead. His kin matter; I'm disposable.