"Ever heard of Yin and Yang? It's the push and pull of the tides. Life and death, light and darkness, actions, and consequences. Should the balance be lifted, none shall live."

Yin and Yang—An Investiture of High Immortals

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The entire hall reeked of chaos and burning garbage. The foul odor of Hundun prowled along the corridors and stained the night air.

I waved my hand, blasting the metal doors open. As expected, Wulin was seated on the Emperor's throne in a most relaxed manner—one leg propped on top of the other, one hand on the armrest and the other swirling the contents of his dragon goblet. Two female slaves stood next to him, both of them eyes wide with terror, and shaking hands carrying silver trays laden with grapes and cakes.

"You're on my seat," I said.

Wulin flung his goblet aside, spilling its contents all over the floor. "You never cease to surprise me, my dearest."

"You're on my seat," I repeated.

He rose and stretched. "I shall not warn you again. Do not challenge my authority."

"I challenge you to the rights of the throne," I said. "I am the crown princess and your lawfully wedded wife."

Wulin clicked his fingers. The slaves next to him dropped their trays, faces pale and eyes bulging. Food and wine crashed to the ground as they were reduced to piles of dust at his feet.

"I've warned you," he said in a low tone. "Anyone who stands in my way shall meet the fate of these two slaves."

Seeing the girls die in front of my eyes, so sudden and so brutally, ignited the swell of flames within me. I remembered how he had struck Miya with his sword. There was no mercy in his actions, nor there was a sliver of compassion in his soul. Everything he had done, everything he had sought for, was to prove himself to a father who was blind."

"Your father will never be proud of you," I said. "No father would be proud of a traitorous son, cruel enough to even slay his own brother."

Wulin's breaths came in short and shallow spurts.

"Do not taunt me, Sarna Jinyu. I shall not be gentle."

"Traitor," I spat out the words. "Coward."

An angry scream ripped from Wulin's throat as he stretched out his hand and pulled a staff out of thin air. I recognized the rippling, simmering metal—Nerithim. On top of the staff was a pair of silver claws that clasped an emerald-green orb as big as an ostrich's egg. He twirled the staff once and slammed it onto the ground. The marble floor cracked as the staff collided upon the surface, shattering it like glass.

"Do not call me a coward."

He charged at me just as I unsheathed my scalpel. My reflection was clear on the blade's smooth surface.

My scars. The face didn't cover them. But for once, I didn't feel vulnerable.

I had regarded these scars as a curse, the taint of the man who used and humiliated me. Because of them, I hid indoors, shying away from the sun. I loved being a Facechanger because I had hidden underneath other people's faces for so long, and they gave me the illusion that I was perfect.

I didn't need to be perfect. Even the High Immortals weren't perfect. These scars were my past, the battlecry I would scream as I fought against the very thing that branded it on my face. They made me Sarna.

I twirled the scalpel between my fingers, letting it fly and soar. Electricity crackled along the jagged edges of the blade as I swiped it through the air. I lurched forward, cutting a curve in the air toward Wulin. He stepped back and raised his staff to meet my strike. Both weapons collided, spitting sparks as the energies of a High Immortal clashed with the powers of a High Demon.

The world was beneath me, and I was the power that churned the clouds and strew the rain. Staring at my opponent, pain and sorrow crashed toward me. Perhaps, Wulin really wished the best for Erden, but his vision was skewed and distorted, so much so, it shattered his humanity. He wanted to set the people in Erden free, as did I.

He chose the wrong master to bend the knee.

Wulin blasted a ray of concentrated Chaotic energy at me. I blocked it with my scalpel, dispersing the energy into fine sparks. He had framed a group of people who wanted nothing more but to earn an honest living by entertaining people. He had tricked me into believing my friends stood a chance against the Imperials. I shed my consciousness and went against everything Mr. Long had taught me. I became a face-skinning monster who stole the face of a dead girl who did not deserve such a horrible death. I'd sullied and tarnished my consciousness.

I blocked his every blow. Every hit sent a painful jolt up my arm. I ducked and swiped, both of us locked in a deadly dance. We were equal in skill and power.

They are balanced, as neither can cancel out the other.

I didn't have to end his life, but I could make him suffer.

Like how you tortured Biyu. Like how you tortured me. Like how you poisoned the thoughts of Wulin and used him to harm others.

With a scream, I lunged forward and brought the fan down, drawing every bit of energy crackling within me.

I was given the powers of Creation. I would create.

My scalpel struck the ground, cutting it clean open. For a moment, the world was silent. Wulin stared, his staff raised, his mouth opened, but no sound came out. Dust motes froze, as did time. Golden light blossomed from the crack.

I leaped back as a hole yawned open, spiraling outward in a perfect circle, obliterating everything in its path. The entire hall quaked, shaking the dragon statues off the pillars, sending them hurtling down into the deep, dark chasm.

Wulin let loose a deranged howl and ran, trying to escape the yawning blackness chasing him beneath.

I rose into the air as the power of creation hummed through me. I was Creation. All things alive were mine. Reaching deep into the ground, I coaxed the roots of old trees to break to the surface, stretching from their deep slumber. I directed them forward. Like snakes leaping upon a rat, the roots twisted themselves around Wulin's ankle, jerking him off balance and dragging him into the ever-growing hole.

Another root knocked the staff from his grasp. Wulin made a grab for it, and it shriveled up like a leech exposed to the sun and crumbled into dust. I threw another root at him, and another. Hundun poisoned all the roots with his touch, but I had more. I had an entire legion of trees to do my bidding. If I exhausted that, I had the grass and the flowers, then I had the animals, even humans. I could swarm him with so many living creatures, he would be buried under all that weight.

High Demon Hundun was imprisoned for thousands of years, enough for the offspring of Pangu and Nüwa to flourish and populate the earth. Creation had a headstart, and Chaos was too late to obliterate Creation's work.

The roots crept around Wulin's body, tightening like an anaconda strangling prey. He thrashed and failed, but there was nothing else he could do. With every root he ruined, another three broke through the soil. I pushed the roots down, taking Wulin down with them.

"Sarna!" he suddenly screamed. "You don't have to do this. You and I can rule Erden together. Creation and Chaos, we were meant to be one."

I froze. The roots stopped their descent, waiting for my order.

"I'm your husband," he continued pleading. "I love you."

Icy tranquility kissed me. I latched onto the roots harder, not willing to be swayed.

"I had no choice!" he shouted. "I just wanted to be the Emperor Erden deserves. My father haunted my nightmares. There was nothing I could do. You know what it is like to be oppressed."

I gritted my teeth. Hundun was trying play with my emotions.

"You always had a choice," I said. "But you chose wrong."

He struggled against the roots, fingers digging into the ever-rising dirt. "This isn't over! One day I will catch up, and I will ruin everything you've ever created with those filthy hands of yours!"

"Goodbye," I said.

Roots crept into Wulin's mouth, cutting off his words.

I slammed the roots into the pit, banishing Hundun into a place so far away, he could never cause harm to another being ever again. I flexed my fingers, willing the earth to move back into place, and a rock to rise to the surface.

Might there be no more Facechangers after me, so no one could abuse the powers of the High Demons ever again.

I stepped out of what was left of the great hall. The Jade Palace was in ruins and its courtyards strewn with bodies. Above me, the morning sun rose above the horizon, resplendent over the mountains and over the earth. It was beautiful. I wondered what the Jade Palace would look like under a different ruler.

One last thing—I ran toward the ring of Petrifi and knelt down beside Bowen's cold body. Even in death, his face was kind. I picked up my scalpel and set to work. I might not be able to bring this body back to life, but I could give him another.

He was the rightful heir of the Erdenese throne. In a sense, he and I were similar. He was also trapped in between two worlds, never being able to fit in.

I held Bowen's face against my chest, feeling the paper-thin flesh flutter in the wind. I ran through the numerous courts of the Jade Palace, the wet grass squelching as I ran toward Zhennan Court. The pond was in the heart of the court, brimming with thousands of white lotuses. The familiar smell of damp earth, roses, and lotus was a sweet blend in the air. I inhaled deeply, letting the wind wash away some of the pain in my heart.

I sensed the plants weaving around me, tasted the sweetness of flower fragrance.

The water rippled as I sank my right foot into the lotus pond. Warm. Perfect.

I put my other foot into the water and stepped onto the sandy bank. I placed Bowen's face on the ground, raised my hand, and directed it at all the floating lotuses in the pond. I felt the sinking lotus stems under the paddling leaves, I latched onto the rounded tubes of the stems and raised them into the air. The power of Nüwa buzzed in me like a firestorm, rushing through my veins and bursting through the tips of my fingers. She had the power to create life, and I was going to use that power to bring back what was mine.

From the stems, I fashioned bones and flesh, from the roots, I built up the intricate weavings of veins and arteries, from the soft petals, I formed Bowen's new heart—as warm and tender as it ever was.

I wove and wove and wove, left and right, inward and outward. Petals broke free as they wrapped around each other. The long, dangling roots intertwined themselves and attached to the heart. I lost count of time; the only moment that mattered was now, and that Bowen would live again.

There was no place in my heart that could love Bowen. I liked him, maybe, as a friend. No matter who he claimed to be, he still was an Imperial, and I had sworn to never love an Imperial. I didn't love him, but he didn't deserve to die so easily.

If there was one person who could heal Erden, it was him.

When the lotus body was completed, I laid it to rest on the bank. My dress was soddened, and my hair was in a disarray, but I did not care.

Carefully, I knelt down next to the body and pressed Bowen's face onto its smooth head. Donghwa's blood buzzed inside me, simmering with Nüwa's. The edges of the face vanished as I eased them down onto the lotus head, and I made sure every inch of the head was well covered with Bowen's face.

I drew back and inspected my handiwork. He looked perfect.

This was for the Emperor Erden truly deserved and desperately needed. I kissed Bowen on the lips, transferring some of the Immortal energy within me, and channeled it through the veins I had created for him.

Gray spread from the roots of his hair and spread all the way down to the very end, silver like the rays of a moon at its fullest. The color bleached out the darkness of Bowen's hair, marking him one who had passed through the realms of the dead and back to the land of the living. Like a newborn child, he opened his eyes and gasped. His eyes fell upon me, then traveled down to his hand where I was clutching it.

He jerked his hand from my grip. "Traitor," he hissed.

So much for gratitude.

"I do not owe you favors," I said. "I only resurrected you so you can be the next Emperor."

Bowen sat up. "I don't want the throne."

"With the Emperor and the crown prince gone, you're next in line," I said.

He frowned. "My brother is dead?"

"He killed himself," I said. "A very lenient end to his cruelty."

Bowen shoved me aside as he straightened up. "You pride yourself upon the fact you're different from the Imperials. You claim you want nothing but the best for the slaves. But like Wulin, you've cheated and lied. You never came to the Jade Palace because you wanted change. You came here because of your own selfish reasons."

"Selfish to you but not to me," I said.

"Ask yourself, Sarna," Bowen continued. "How am I supposed to trust a person who shed faces like a snake would shed skin?"

"I had no choice. You will never understand what I've been through, what the slaves have been through, but you can sympathize. This is what makes you a good Emperor."

Bowen prodded the High Immortal mark on my head.

"Like all others, you crave power to change the things you deem are unjust. I am a spoiled Imperial who spent his entire childhood running around a lush courtyard and drinking from fancy goblets. You know the hardships of life, and you think you're the perfect candidate to right the wrong."

Bowen suddenly pushed me against a tree and pinned my hands above my head. Just like how he did when we met in his bedchamber. His breath was hot upon mine, his grip tight, and there was a vicious smile on his face. I could throw him off, I could break his wrists and snap his legs, but I froze instead. His silver hair hung loosely over his face, tickling my cheeks. He looked like a demon. Perhaps, he was one.

"I know you want the throne," he whispered into my ear. "Go ahead. Rule Erden. Be Empress."

I stared at him, my gaze tracing the splotches of dried blood on his face, the way his hair stuck to his brow, the smell of fresh lotus light on his skin where I had woven him a new body from the flowers of the High Immortals. For the first time, I saw a spark of madness in his eyes, similar to the one which sizzled in my reflection every time I looked into a mirror.

He freed one of my hands, reached into his pocket, and drew out his Imperial seal. He forced open my fingers and slid it into my grasp.

"I, Bowen Kuo, the second prince of Erden, sole heir of the Kuo family, hereby renounce my claim of the throne and appoint Sarna, the crown princess, in my steed."

I couldn't find the correct words. Rationality fled me.

His smile was ever so cruel, so bitter. He let go of my other hand, knelt down, and pressed his forehead against the ground. "All hail the Empress of Erden."

*****