Soran (3)
Unlike other martial families that threw themselves into training from the first light of dawn, mornings in the Dang Clan were quiet. And among those quiet mornings, Dang Sohye’s were the quietest of all.
At the Dragon Phoenix Assembly she had wielded a long paralysis whip and earned the name Whip Phoenix. Inside the clan, however, most people called her by another title: the Dang Clan’s Sparrow Bee.
Everyone within the family knew her true specialty was not the whip but poison arts. And poison arts, unlike ordinary martial training, demanded constant research.
Her performance at the Dragon Phoenix Assembly had already established her as the foremost among the clan’s rising talents. Yet she refused to stop there. Night after night she stayed awake, pouring herself into the creation of new poisons.
Only after the maidservant had made her presence known several times did Dang Sohye’s door finally open. She was slumped over her desk, fast asleep.
The maidservant, long accustomed to the sight, set the breakfast tray on the bed. She roused Sohye from the desk, then stepped outside and returned with a washbasin.
While the maidservant fetched the basin, Sohye—still without opening her eyes—tidied the desk. Only when the basin was placed on the cleared surface did she wash her face and finally come fully awake.
“If word ever gets out that you wake up like this every day, how do you expect to get married?”
“Don’t you ever get tired of nagging me the same way every morning?”
“Lady Sojeong and Lady Miyeon are coming today, remember? You said you’d rise early and prepare… and look at you.”
“Oh. They’re both here already?”
“Yes. I’ve prepared tea.”
“All right. I’ll be ready in a moment.”
Hearing that, the maidservant began laying out clothes. A full shichen later, Dang Sohye was seated with Sojeong and Miyeon, drinking tea.
Sojeong, the Qingcheng Sword Phoenix, had visited regularly since the Dragon Phoenix Assembly, deepening their friendship. One day she brought along a younger sister-in-arms from the Emei Sect—Miyeon.
Miyeon was already recognized as a direct disciple of Emei and a candidate for the next Mount Hua Sword Conference. Her elders, however, kept scolding her for burying herself in training and would routinely drive her out of the practice grounds.
After sneaking back to the grounds more times than she could count, she had grown close to Sojeong during one of the latter’s visits to Emei and finally come down the mountain. The three of them had become fast friends and met once a month to shake off the fatigue of cultivation.
“Aaaah…”
Because of that easy familiarity, the moment Sohye sat at the table she stretched extravagantly and collapsed across it. Miyeon let out a small yawn of her own. Sojeong looked at the two of them and shook her head.
“Please tell me you’re not about to suggest we just bathe and rest again today.”
“Should we? Shall I have a medicinal bath prepared?”
“We did that last month. I’d rather do something different this time.”
“Come to think of it, I heard Yinghua Inn is putting on a face-changing performance these days.”
The moment Miyeon mentioned face-changing, Sohye lifted her head.
“Face-changing? At Yinghua Inn?”
Yinghua Inn was the largest guest house in Chengdu. If a face-changing opera were being staged there, the Dang Clan would certainly have heard of it.
“I was told today’s the opening performance. So I reserved good seats.”
Sohye decided it sounded entertaining and agreed to go with them. After ordering a carriage and checking briefly with her maidservant, she learned that the clan itself also planned to observe the performance.
In light spirits she set off with the other two for Yinghua Inn. They took seats by a second-floor window that offered a clear view of the central stage.
Although the inn stood close to the Dang residence, they had dawdled along the main avenue, sightseeing, and so arrived in time only for a late lunch. Still drowsy, they ordered simple refreshments and tea and settled in to wait. The performance would not begin until evening, so the three of them passed the hours in idle chatter.
Miyeon spoke of a novel she had recently finished—Tales of Mount Hua Romance—in which a man and woman fell in love at first sight and shared a kiss amid swirling plum blossoms. She wondered aloud whether she might meet someone like that at the Mount Hua Sword Conference, opening the floodgates of conversation. Sohye and Sojeong promptly set about shattering her romantic illusions.
Their gossip stretched on for a long while. As the sun began to sink, the curtain rose on the stage.
The stage itself was only about ten paces across. Face-changing performances usually featured a single actor who transformed alone, so a long stage was unnecessary. That detail alone made Sohye watch with mild curiosity. Double doors had been installed on either side of the platform.
The actor stepped out and the performance began. He portrayed an ordinary man of Sichuan. War had stripped him of his family. He joined the fighting for revenge, met many people along the way, and fought for their sake. At the war’s end he realized that, though they were not blood, he had found people he held dear.
And then… he threw himself into certain death for them. He never returned.
It was a story that would stir the heart of any Sichuan native. Yet Sohye’s attention fixed on the face-changing technique itself—the way the actor used candlelight shadows and the two doors.
He would open one door, enlarge the candle’s shadow until the stage between the doors fell into darkness, then appear through the opposite door already wearing a different face.
A distance of just under ten paces. Both the technique and the narrative itself called to mind the Ten-Step Illusionist.
Sohye had heard countless stories of the Ten-Step Illusionist from the clan elders. Whoever had crafted this stage was clearly connected to that legendary figure.
She glanced around and spotted the hall master who oversaw the Illusionist Shrine. He noticed her as well and gave a small nod.
“Did you come to see it yourself?”
“I came for a change of pace. May I ask your impression?”
“It feels far too blatant—as if he’s openly declaring himself the successor of the Ten-Step Illusionist. Suspicious.”
“But we can hardly refuse to test him, can we? Disciples from both Emei and Qingcheng are here as well.”
“Understood… I’ll submit a detailed report to the Clan Leader first.”
“Very well. Thank you for your trouble.”
The moment Sohye finished the exchange, she found Sojeong staring straight at her.
“Busy, aren’t you.”
“I know. It just sort of… happened.”
Sojeong had clearly noticed the sound transmission. When the play ended, the actor cupped his fists in salute amid the crowd’s cheers and left the stage.
People dug coins from their pockets and tossed them onto the boards. Each time money landed, the actor turned toward the thrower and offered thanks.
Then someone flung a silver tael. The actor changed faces with a flourish and bowed again. The crowd erupted.
Everyone longed to see another transformation, yet few could casually throw silver. From the third floor a wealthy merchant tossed one more tael.
The actor changed faces once more. He bowed low, covering his face with both hands as he lowered them, and in that single motion the mask was gone and a new face appeared.
The movement looked simple, yet it was the realm of cha-lian—the highest level of face-changing, possible only after complete mastery. In cha-lian the performer wears multiple layers of thin silk masks and peels them away one by one.
Legend held that the Ten-Step Illusionist had performed cha-lian with human-skin masks. In effect the actor was advertising that he stood at a comparable height.
Sohye watched him from above, concentrating her eyesight to calculate the remaining thickness of the masks. When she judged only a few layers were left, she flung three silver taels in rapid succession.
The actor caught them himself and stared up at her in open surprise. Sohye grinned down at him. He tossed the taels into the air one by one and, catching each, performed another face change.
When the final tael landed in his palm, the last mask fell away and his bare face was revealed. Sohye caught only a fleeting glimpse; the actor immediately folded at the waist in a deep bow of thanks.
He withdrew behind the stage. Others came out to gather the coins scattered across the floor.
“Ah, that was wonderful. So that’s what face-changing looks like.”
Miyeon, still half-dazed from the spectacle, offered her impression. Sohye barely heard her. That face—she was certain she had seen it somewhere before…
“What? Did you throw the wrong money?”
“No, no. I covered your shares too.”
“Then since you were late today, you’re covering the food as well.”
“Since when is that a rule?”
“Wasn’t there someone who swore last time that if she was late again she’d shave her head and climb Mount Emei?”
“Ahem… fine.”
Sohye resigned herself to settling the bill. The three of them left the inn and parted ways. With a considerably lighter purse at her belt, Sohye returned to the Dang residence.
The moment she arrived she was summoned to a meeting. The gathering had been called by the Hall Master of the Illusionist Hall and by her father, the Clan Leader.
In the decade since the war the Dang Clan had invited countless face-changing masters. Not a single one had ever passed the Illusionist Hall’s examination.
“You said it was too blatant, Hall Master?”
Clan Leader Dang Min asked the question. He was famous for meticulous thoroughness, yet—like most of the bloodline—he remained utterly indifferent to anything that failed to interest him.
“Yes. Both the play’s content, which depicted the Illusionist’s exploits, and the stage apparatus itself… felt as though they were aimed directly at the Dang Clan.”
Anyone listening could tell Dang Min cared little about the face-changer. Still, Dang Yu, who bore responsibility for the Illusionist Hall, had no choice but to deliver his report.
Sohye wondered why she had been called, yet she held her tongue and waited for her father to speak.
“Sohye. I hear you watched the performance. What is your opinion?”
She sensed at once that her father was testing her. She had proven herself the finest of the direct line at the Dragon Phoenix Assembly. That did not mean she would become the young clan leader. She was a woman, and the Dang Clan still had many male cousins eyeing the succession.
“I agree with the Hall Master’s assessment… yet the Dang Clan has never once fled from a challenge.”
Dang Min nodded, a look of satisfaction on his face.
“Invite the face-changer. Hall Master, prepare the Illusionist Hall’s examination… Sohye, you will handle the invitation and the stage arrangements.”
As though no further reply were required, Dang Min spoke and left the chamber. Left alone, Dang Yu and Sohye discussed the remaining details.
Sohye understood then that this examination would also be a test for her. From the moment her father had summoned her to the meeting, he had intended to put her on trial.
Whether she was fit to become young clan leader… that was what he meant to measure. The problem was that Sohye herself had no desire for the position.
Like her father Dang Min, she was thoroughly indifferent to matters that did not interest her. She cared about creating new poisons; the seat of young clan leader never crossed her mind.
Right now only one thing occupied her thoughts.
Where had she seen that face before…?