Master, This Poor Disciple Died Again Today

Deep lines wound through the jade, twisting through the pale green stone. In the center, a strange, upright on one side, wobbly on the other shape Hui didn’t recognize stood boldly out, its plainness emanating a special kind of importance. Flecks of gold shone from the depths of the carved lines.

A wing, maybe?

Frowning at the jade, Hui lifted it and showed it to Song Wei. “Does this mean anything to you?”

Song Wei leaned in. He squinted at the jade, then shook his head. “No.”

“Ah. That’s unfortunate. I don’t suppose you’d tell us?” Hui asked, turning to the ghost.

It hissed, baring razor-sharp black teeth.

“Didn’t think so.” Hui turned back to Song Wei. “Congratulations on ascending! I knew it wouldn’t take you long. Overcame your Master, hmm? Congrats, congrats!”

Song Wei frowned at Hui. “Master… what do you mean?”

“Eh? I’ve only been up here a few months. For you to ascend in that time is—”

“It’s been five hundred years since you ascended.”

Hui startled. He froze, going utterly stock still. Five hundred years? Five hundred years! “How… when…?”

The village? Ah! That must be it! The village! I thought I broke out right away, but I was the fool. I was trapped in that time loop without even realizing it. For how long did I relive that day, without even realizing I relived it? How many years did I spend in that village, trapped under a single span of twenty-four hours? I… I… when the Immortals from Heart Lotus City came, after seven hundred years, that was, that was, that…

Or… He looked at Song Wei and grasped his disciples’ robes. His lips formed words that wouldn’t be spoken. A force pushed at his mind, trying to wipe the thoughts away.

In his hand, the seal glowed. The force faded back. A scrap of gold faded from the seal, and his mind cleared. The thoughts came to him, swift and forceful, each one slamming into him with the surety of truth.

Or is the time loop… not limited to the villages?

And if that’s true, then how long has it been since I ascended? Since Song Wei ascended, for that matter?

I can’t trust anything. There’s no way to mark the true passage of time. I don’t even know when it began to loop, or when the loop ends.

Deep within him, something throbbed, once, then twice, three times, beating to life, a second heart to match his. As it throbbed, foreign qi poured into him, hot and painful, as if barbed wire twisted around lava. Releasing Song Wei, he clutched his chest, trying to suppress it, but too late.

The second heart burst. A blast of qi roared through him, foreign in origin, sending his qi into uproar. The painful qi smashed through his resistance and tore at his inner qi structures, tearing his qi passages and meridians. Hui clamped down on the qi passages leading to his dantian, forcefully cutting off the foreign qi before it could tear into the very heart of his qi structures.

“Master!” Song Wei put his hand to Hui’s chest.

Before he could attempt to help, Hui ripped his hand away. He looked up into the other man’s eyes. “Song Wei, trust nothing.”

“Master…?”

Hui shook his head. He tightened his grip on Song Wei’s hand, his only anchor in the dark world. The savage qi pressed in on him, threatening to overwhelm his defenses. He coughed blood, struggling to draw enough breath to focus. With effort, he pushed the qi back and managed to speak. “Don’t trust me. Don’t trust this world. Don’t trust your eyes. Song Wei, we’ve already lost. If I keep on… we’ve already lost.”

“Master?” Song Wei repeated, but his tone had changed from worry to pure fear.

“This didn’t happen. None of this happened. It’s going to turn back. All of this. We’ll—” Hui gulped. He swallowed down the heat in his chest. “Song Wei, if you remember any of this, find Li Xiang. If the world keeps on…”

It’s meaningless.

Everything is meaningless.

Even if we did everything right, even if I did everything right, we’re trapped inside a cage. We can’t break free. Even when we think we’ve reached the limits of the world, we’re still within his grasp.

We’re monkeys, dancing in the Buddha’s palm.

“Master, you’re babbling. Let me help. It’s not that bad. We can still fix it,” Song Wei said, scared. He reached for Hui again, determined, with an expression that said he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Hui shook his head. He stepped back, dodging Song Wei’s grasp.

There’s only one way. One way out.

I can’t hesitate.

“I’m sorry, Song Wei.”

Song Wei stepped forward again, lower lip trembling. “Master, no. Please! Why won’t you let me help you? I can fix this! I can. We can! Stop this. This… crazy talk, you—”

Hui tilted his head. He gave Song Wei a bitter smile. The savage qi ripped into him, tearing him apart. “Farewell,” he said.

And then he was gone.