"The ten sons of the Jade Emperor were rogue and filled with disdain. They climbed to the sky with their blazing chariots and raced to the other end. Beneath them, trees burned, humans were reduced to gleaming skeletons, and there was not a drop to drink. But their charade did not last long. HouYi lifted his gleaming bow and arrows and shot nine from the sky, sparing the youngest son who promised to never race again."

The Fall of the Suns—The Immortalist Lores

CHAPTER THREE

It had been two days since the High Immortal tore off Traveler Jin's face and knocked everyone out at the teahouse.

When I woke up, I was back at the inn. The teahouse closed shortly after, but news about the appearance of a High Immortal stayed dormant. There was no gossip nor was there even the slightest whisper about Traveler Jin's demise.

It was as though the event never happened.

Mama and Papa used to tell me stories about the High Immortals. They believed the High Immortals would one day return to earth and restore peace when they had recovered from the Heavenly War. I'd prayed to them every night. I'd prayed as my face was shoved into a pillow and the clothes torn off my body. I'd pleaded for their mercy, to save me from the Pavilion, but they never answered my prayers.

The High Immortals swore an oath to protect humans. They took out an entire army of High Demons, and they sacrificed their bodies to hold up the sky when it crumbled. However, no matter how hard I'd prayed, there were no flashes of light or the smell of burning leaves. As the years passed, my faith in them dwindled down to dying embers until finally, I turned away from the word of the divine.

"Why?" I whispered. "Why did you appear when someone took one of your stupid faces, but never when we begged you to?"

Tears blinded me. I had forced myself to smile, to act as if I had forgotten the past events. Facechanging provided relief; a route to escape the pain I had been swimming in for nine years. I had hidden behind the faces of the divine, danced to their history and tales, shut my past behind a door built on denial.

Now, that door was shattered.

I had prayed so hard; believed so much I cracked my heart into two. But they never came to my aid.

When Mr. Long took me in, I allowed myself to forget my disappointment in the High Immortals. Maybe they never even existed in the first place. They were just figments of imagination, created by monks with too much time on their hands.

But this—the evidence of the High Immortals in its pure, stark glory, brought out years of pent up pain. Hot tears spilled, dripping onto the back of my hands.

How dare you? How dare you ignore the suffering of the people when you promised to protect us from harm? You retreated to the heavens for thousands of years only to return when some fool claimed to have a High Immortal's face in possession. Yet, you disregard all the prayers and pleas of the slaves. Do you have any idea how many people have been tortured and killed at the hands of the Imperials?

Biyu burst into the room and started gathering the jewelry caskets into his arms. "We need to hit the road. Now."

I dropped the last of my jewelry into the casket and attached my veil, so he couldn't see my red eyes. I dropped the memory of my futile cries inside, too, and only said, "I was distracted. Sorry." Then, I fastened the metal lock.

He arched an eyebrow at me. "You've been acting really strange ever since you got back from the teahouse."

"No one believed I saw a High Immortal. Everyone in this damn city runs the other way whenever I try to talk to them."

"If I was a stranger, I would run away too. No one would want to incite the Immortals' wrath."

Biyu might have been at my side for years, but sometimes, he just couldn't understand how I felt. He viewed the world through a lens of such vivid colors, and I through smoked glass. He wasn't as bitter as I was, or maybe he just he hid his pain better than I did. But no matter what our differences were, it still hurt that he didn't trust my words.

"Even my best friend doesn't believe me."

Biyu dropped a casket. "You know that I trust you with my life."

"So, you do believe me?"

"I do. I have utter faith in the Tales and you. But now, we must leave. The performance is tomorrow, and Mr. Long wants us to settle down in the Jade Palace tonight."

"Can we not go?"

"Imperial orders." Biyu shrugged. "You know how it is."

I checked the room one last time and left the inn.

Zichuan Theater's twenty carriages stood waiting outside. Shu, our Facechanging mentor and the theater's second-in-command, hobbled from carriage to carriage, counting our people, checking whether the carriages were secured to the horses while yelling instructions at the top of his voice.

I found my carriage at the end of the line. It was an old thing, held together by the barest of nails and creaky wooden wheels which squeaked and screeched its way all around Erden. Mr. Long had promised to buy us new paint for the carriage, but he'd been caught up in preparations, and must have forgotten. I added a mental note to remind Mr. Long after our performance at the Jade Palace.

Don't you mean, if you survive the Jade Palace? A snide little voice at the back of my head corrected me.

I brushed the voice aside and stepped into the carriage.

Upon entering, I was hit by the crystal grommets Biyu had hung from the ceiling and the faint fragrance of lavender. Pooj was curled up in a cushion basket, the bowl of meat next to him was empty. He lifted his head and meowed as I sank into the larger cushion and propped my feet up.

"Hey Pooj," I said. "Did you have fun with Mila?"

Pooj meowed again, just as Biyu entered the carriage with a scowl on his face.

"That's my seat."

"Not anymore. You drive."

"No, we had a deal. I drove all the way to the Jade City. It's your turn."

Biyu shoved me to one side, but I pushed back harder.

He fell on his bottom. Muttering curses under his breath, Biyu stepped out of the carriage toward the front seat and gathered the reins of the horse.

I pushed back the curtain separating the inside from the outside. Biyu's thin and straight back was against me. He was humming Zhenjin's song. I had taught him the song when we were ten, and it stuck with him ever since.

Trees so tall.

Leaves so brown.

Mama's here to rock you to bed.

Leaves so soft.

Sky so blue.

Papa's here to sing you a song.

The sight of Biyu steering the carriage brought me back to our escape five years ago. It was a wet autumn night. The smell of wet earth filled the air, intertwined with the smell of fresh paint of the pillar which we had hidden behind. My face was bandaged so heavily with rags, I could hardly see anything. I relied on Biyu as he took my hand and led us out of the Pavilion. With the moon shining above our heads, our only source of illumination, we sprinted down the empty road.

His fingers never left mine. We ran until we couldn't move anymore. As dawn approached, we slipped into one of the many tents at the outskirts of the city. All we had on us was a rhinestone brooch. It was barely enough to buy a hot meal, let alone a Visa to leave the city. Imperial Guards prowled every inch of Erden, stopping civilians and pulling them aside to check their Visas. A Visa-less person was a slave, and all slaves carried pendants specially cast to signify their status. A slave without a pendant would be executed as a runaway.

Biyu had clasped his hands together and prayed. He prayed to all the High Immortals in the Nine Heavens who were kind enough to listen. Shortly after, Mr. Long found us, and took us under his wing, far away from the incessant pit of darkness roiling beneath the ever-resplendent Jade City. They had answered his prayers.

But I had prayed to them too. Did the High Immortals favor him because his faith was stronger? I was certain I had as much faith as Biyu had. I grew up reading their scriptures, listening to their lores, setting up food on the altar, lighting the joss sticks, and making sure their water bowl was never empty.

I hurled a silent scream into the sky.

Tell me what I am doing wrong. Tell me!

A soft meow brought me back to reality. Pooj had crawled out of the basket and into my lap. I stroked his soft head as it stared at me, a concerned look in his eye.

"Want to see something interesting?" I asked him.

Pooj continued staring at me.

I pulled out the stringed collection strapped to my waist and ran my fingers through them, touching them one by one. I needed the comfort of knowing I was free, especially when we were heading straight into the Imperials' territory.

I showed the first item to Pooj. "This jade bead is from Nanshan. Shao stole it from a shop, got caught, and asked me to hide it for him. He never reclaimed it."

Pooj tried to bite the bead, but I jerked it away, laughing.

"This," I said, showing him a small cloth bag so old, it was dotted with yellow, "Is potpourri. A little girl was selling them by the twisted mountains of Hubei. I don't think there's any fragrance left, but you're welcome to take a sniff."

I nudged Pooj's nose with it.

He sneezed, and I exploded into laughter at the startled look on his face. Retying the string to my waist, I placed Pooj back into his basket and leaned back on my cushion.

Tension spun a hard knot in my stomach. No matter how hard I tried to ignore it, it dug its roots deeper until I was struggling for breath. There was no stopping the inevitable—I was headed toward the heart of the Imperials.

Hundreds of years ago, Erden was ruled by a kinder family, but they were overthrown by a noble House of the name Kuo. They became known as the Imperials. The moment the Imperials gained control of the military, they executed every last officer who had served the previous dynasty, massacred the noble families that refused to pledge their loyalty to the new Emperor, then established slavery as a way to control the population and press down upon those who rebelled against their cruelty.

And to ensure no one would dare think of overthrowing the current dynasty.

I wanted to punch the carriage wall, but that'd startle Biyu and Pooj. Instead, I clenched my fingers into a tight fist and bit it.

Because of their laws, Papa lost his head. Because of their agendas, Mama had screamed my name as she tried to hold her intestines in. Because of the Imperials, Zhenjin's heart was carved out before my very eyes.

All of these would have been prevented if the High Immortals had intervened. But no, they couldn't even be bothered to even move a finger.

Outside, metal clinked against stone. I lifted the curtains and poked my head out of the window. "We're here," Biyu called.

Encased by a tall stone wall, the Jade Palace pierced the skies with its twisted green spires. Overlooking the incredible sprawl of the Jade City was the undulating red and gold dragon banner of Erden, rising above the serpentine roofs and arched windows. Guards in white armor and clutching silver swords marched along the entrance of the wall, checking the carriages and horses that had shifted into an orderly line to enter the Palace.

The Jade Palace was as beautiful as it was foreboding.

Fear was a shrill scream in my head, pounding in my ears and tightening its claws around my heart.

I laced my string of memories around my fingers, letting the rough edges bite into my skin.

Even when the thought of entering Imperials' home sent waves of terror coursing through my body, rendering me into a shivering ball, I would not let them have the satisfaction of seeing me at my weakest. My fingers crushed the pendant, letting the stone leave an imprint in the softness of my palm.

Zhenjin, grant me strength to face the Imperials. This is only for one day. One, and I'll get to leave.

I would stand strong in front of them. I would not betray a hint of fear. I was an actress on a stage. Fooling the audience was in my blood.

Smile, the great Facechanging masters had said. The world was but a stage. Just keep smiling.

The great gates swung open, and the carriage rolled into the Jade Palace.