Chapter 120: A Gilded Cage

“Xiao Ling?” Zhang Wei connected after one ring. “Your location is showing you at the imperial precinct. Please tell me you didn’t kidnap the—”

“I have been reassigned,” Su Yao interrupted. “The Empress is now my direct client. Your bureau’s contract remains active, but you will report to her office.”

A long silence followed. “You, what? How? The security there is—”

“Adequate. The details are irrelevant. I’m confirming the new chain of command. You will receive formal orders shortly.”

Zhang Wei sighed. “Understood. I will await the paperwork. What are your initial orders?”

“To continue my work, but with broader parameters. Prepare a dossier on all unresolved, high-priority spiritual incidents from the last decade. The Empress believes I have been insufficiently challenged.” She paused. “Find a permanent residence for me in Luoyang, somewhere secure.”

Su Yao ended the call before he could reply, the city stretching before her. The same streets she had walked as a visitor now felt different. They were part of her jurisdiction.

A new title is just a new cage, albeit a gilded one with a much larger yard.

She began walking. The Empress had given her a reason to stay, and her first order of business was to test the limits of her new access. The imperial archives awaited.

Su Yao presented her new credentials at the entrance to the imperial archives. The guards waved her through without a word. As she walked along the aisles, her fingers trailed over the spines of texts. Most of this is bureaucratic history and standardized cultivation manuals. How dull.

Her eyes then caught on a solitary scroll tucked away in a corner. Its casing was made of a dark wood that seemed to absorb the light. The label simply read: ‘Demon Arts.’

She pulled it from the shelf and unrolled it on a nearby reading table. The script was ancient, detailing demonic rituals and spells. Under her gaze, the ink seemed to shift.

An elderly archivist approached, his steps quiet on the stone floor. “That one has a peculiar history,” he said. “It was censored during the Ming dynasty. The officials altered the characters to neutralize the rituals. They made the spells inert.”

Su Yao traced a character with her finger. “And now?”

“The Qing dynasty censored it again,” the archivist continued. “They believed it was still unmodified, so they applied their own edits. But their changes accidentally reversed the Ming alterations causing the spells to be functional again.”

So the scroll is now a working guide to demon arts, disguised as a censored document. Su Yao rolled the scroll back up. “Has anyone tested it?”

“Not to my knowledge. It has been kept here for centuries. Most avoid it, thinking it harmless due to the censorship marks.” The archivist bowed and retreated into the shadows.

Su Yao held the scroll. This could be useful. Or dangerously unpredictable. She decided to take it with her for further study, carrying it to her new residence in Luoyang.

Once there, she spread it across a plain wooden table and began to study its contents. The rituals described were intricate, centered on the summoning and binding of particular entities. As her reading continued, a pattern revealed itself. Each demon named within the text bore an official title.

Duke, King, Prince, Marquis, Count. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the lists of names and titles. Count Blue, Countess White, Count Red.

The titles from the Beijing mansion matched the classifications in this text.

This is a Chinese translation of a foreign text, the Lesser Key of Solomon. The wardens of the Governor of Gehenna are listed here. Su Yao rolled the scroll back up. If it contained the names of the beings guarding the Beijing leak, it might also contain the true name of the Governor itself.

Su Yao walked back toward the imperial precinct. The guards at the gate recognized her and let her pass. She moved through the corridors, heading for the Empress’s private study.

There, she found the Empress reviewing documents at a low desk. Su Yao placed the scroll on the desk with a definitive thud.

“This is a Chinese translation of a text called the Lesser Key of Solomon,” she said. “It catalogues demonic nobility. The entities warding the Governor of Gehenna in Beijing are listed here. Their titles and natures match.”

The Empress looked from the scroll to Su Yao’s face. “And?”

“And it was censored by the Ming, then uncensored by the Qing through incompetence. It’s now a functional grimoire sitting in your archives. Why? Do you know what this contains?”

“The archives contain many things,” the Empress replied.“Most are forgotten. Why does this one concern you?”

“Because it names our enemy. If these Counts are its jailers, then this book may name the prisoner itself. I need the original text. Or other versions. Do you have them?”

The Empress was silent for a long moment. “The original isn’t here. It was a diplomatic gift from centuries ago deemed obscure and stored away. Its rediscovery is inconvenient.”

“Inconvenient is a mild word for a working guide to hell’s peerage lying in a state archive,” Su Yao said. “I need access to all related materials. Now.”

The Empress nodded. “I will have the archivists compile everything. But understand, Consultant, some knowledge is dangerous for who seeks it.” She looked at Su Yao. “You’re now hunting names. Be certain you can survive what answers when you call.”

With that, the Empress rose and walked to a section of the wall lined with carved wooden panels. She pressed a sequence of hidden mechanisms. A panel slid back, revealing a small dark alcove. From it, she retrieved a plain, unvarnished wooden box and brought it to the desk.

“These are the only other items that arrived with the scroll,” she said, placing the box before Su Yao. “Notes from the translator containing his personal observations. They were considered heretical ramblings and sealed separately. Perhaps you will find them more coherent than I did.”

Su Yao opened the box. Inside were sheaves of brittle paper covered in a dense script. The ink was faded in places. She picked up the top sheet.

The names have power because they are echoes of the entities themselves, the note began. To read the original is to invite a listener.

Su Yao looked up at the Empress. “A listener?”

“The theory was that the book itself was a spiritual conduit. That is why it was translated and then censored to break the connection. It seems we failed twice.” The Empress frowned. “The box and its contents are yours. Take them and learn what you can. But don’t read the original names aloud within my walls.”

Su Yao closed the box. A book that listens? Names that are more than words? “I will take precautions.”

“See that you do.” The Empress turned back to her desk. “Keep me informed of your progress, Consultant.”

Holding the wooden box under her arm, Su Yao left the study and traveled to a remote valley outside Luoyang and stood in the center of a natural stone basin where the wind was her only company. She opened the wooden box then laid out the translator’s notes beside the scroll.

The scroll listed nine entities with the title of Count. Three were involved in Beijing.

She chose a name at random. “Halphas.”

A white dove materialized mid-air and fluttered to the ground before Su Yao. It looked at her.

The voice that came from the dove belonged to the White Countess’. “You’re full of surprises, Consultant,” the dove said. “To call this name here. It seems our connection isn’t so easily severed.”

Su Yao stared at the dove. The names are a shared network, a conference call for hell’s nobility. “I was testing a theory.”

“Theory confirmed,” the dove replied, preening a wing with its beak. “We hear our names, even through veils. Especially when called with intent by one of your caliber. Was there a purpose to this interruption, or are you merely checking the line?”

“I require information about your former employer.”

The dove laughed. “Of course you do. The terms for such a consultation are steep and non-negotiable.”

“Name your price,” Su Yao said.

The dove tilted its head. “A large bag of sunflower seeds, the salted kind.”

Su Yao blinked. The price is so mundane. Perhaps it’s a test, or a whim. “Agreed.”

“The entity in Beijing is one of Gehenna’s Six Great Officers. His name is Sargatanas,” the dove said. “His powers include brainwashing, mind reading, opening all locks, transporting subjects across great distances, and scrying on other houses. He commands the demons Morax, Leraje, and Valefor.”

The dove ruffled its feathers. “He once commanded me as well. Though he no longer holds that authority.”

A high-ranking officer with strategic abilities? “His weaknesses?” Su Yao asked.

“The terms were for information,” the dove replied. “The seeds are payment for the name and the resume. Further consultation requires further payment. My current craving is for millet.” With that, the dove dissolved into a puff of white feathers that scattered on the wind.

She stood alone in the valley. Sargatanas lingered in her thoughts with his catalog of capabilities.

Leaving the barren valley behind, the road carried her back toward the city. A small convenience store appeared on the outskirts of Luoyang, and from its shelves she picked up a large bag of salted sunflower seeds before paying at the counter.

What is so special about these? As she walked, Su Yao tore open the bag. She poured a few seeds into her palm and cracked one open with her teeth. The saltiness spread on her tongue. They are just ordinary seeds. She ate another, then another.

By the time she reached her residence, the bag was empty. She crumpled it in her hand. I need to buy another bag. Su Yao turned around and walked back to the same store.

An identical bag of sunflower seeds went into her basket. Su Yao walked back toward her residence, glancing down at the packaging as she went. It felt lighter than normal. She shook it near her ear.

Instead of the familiar rustle of seeds, there was only a faint hiss inside. She tore open the top of the bag and a rush of nitrogen gas escaped.

Defective packaging. She crumpled the empty bag in her fist and headed back to the convenience store, the same clerk already waiting behind the counter.

Su Yao placed the bag on the counter. “This bag had no seeds.”

The clerk inspected the bag and shrugged. “Must be a factory error. I will get you another one.” He reached under the counter and handed her a fresh bag. “This one should be fine.”

Taking the new bag, Su Yao left the store. She checked the weight of the bag as she walked and kept it secured in her grip.

Su Yao entered her residence and set the bag of sunflower seeds on the table. A trail of tiny white shells caught her eye, scattered across the floor and leading back toward the door. She lifted the bag again. Turning it over, she found a small hole in the bottom corner.

Every last seed had leaked out during her walk.

Defective packaging twice in a row. This is either incompetence or a targeted annoyance. She crumpled the empty bag and dropped it into the trash. The White Countess demanded payment, and these obstacles were wasting her time.

She returned to the same convenience store. The clerk looked up as she entered. “Another problem?”

“The bag had a hole,” Su Yao said. “I need a new one. Check it before I leave.”

The clerk retrieved a fresh bag from under the counter. He squeezed the bag to make sure it was full and intact. “This one is good.”

Su Yao took the bag and checked the bottom herself. There were no holes. “Finally.” She walked out, holding the bag.

In the residence, she placed the bag of seeds on the table. She focused her intent and spoke the name. “Halphas.”

This time, a woman materialized before her.

“Your payment.” Su Yao gestured to the bag. “Sunflower seeds.”

The woman opened the bag and poured a handful of seeds into her palm. She examined them, then looked at Su Yao with a raised eyebrow. “These are pumpkin seeds.”

“Is this your doing?” Su Yao asked.

The Countess let the pumpkin seeds trickle back into the bag. “Why would I bother? Do you think I have nothing better to do than tamper with your snack purchases?” She waved her hand. “The incompetence of mortal supply chains is its own form of chaos. I merely observe.”

She placed the bag back on the table. “The contract was for sunflower seeds. Bring the correct offering if you wish to speak again.” Her form dissolved into a swirl of grey mist, leaving Su Yao alone with the bag.

Su Yao stared at the rejected bag of pumpkin seeds. What a waste. She lifted it to toss it aside, but a roasted scent stopped her. A few seeds spilled into her palm, and she tasted one. The shell cracked between her teeth, revealing a savory center.

She ate another, and then another. The steady crack of shells between her teeth became meditative. Settling into a seat, she rested the bag in her lap and kept going.

Before she realized it, the bag was half empty. Her fingers moved, seeking the next seed.

This is repetitive and unnecessary. Su Yao resumed eating anyway until she finished the bag, the empty plastic crumpling in her hand. After a moment, she looked from it to the clock. I’m addicted to pumpkin seeds.

A cosmic entity’s rejected payment had become a distraction. She would need to exercise more discipline and find a reliable store that stocked sunflower seeds. A quick search online led her to KMP Mart.

Su Yao made her way to the store. Near the entrance, she spotted a prominent display of large bags of extra-salty pumpkin seeds.

Pumpkin seeds. They look even better than the last ones. Her focus shifted. Su Yao picked up a basket and began loading it with every bag of pumpkin seeds on the shelf.

She brought the overflowing basket to the counter and paid. The clerk packed the many packages while Su Yao waited. By the time she left the store, she was already tearing open a bag, eating pumpkin seeds as she walked back to her residence.