Chapter Text
A stray beam of golden light cuts through the thin rice paper, waking the room's slumbering owner. Jiang Fu's eyes slowly open to an expected scene. His desk is a mess of administrative documents and logistics scrolls. The candles burned low and their wicks a frayed black. All things to be expected in the office of a Magistrate who worked long into the night.
Jiang Fu rises from his slumped position. An ache racing through his back from a night spent slaving away for the county.
Once upon a time these aches and pains were worth the payoff. To see the region flourish beneath his care like a first born son. In some ways this is exactly what it was; a child he was meant to nurture into something great. Nowadays however, this task has become a dark ink blot on the painting of his life.
Ever since the Emperor: Luo Binghe, had merged the realms, many established cities and towns flourished and died like the tides of the four seas. Jiang Fu has watched neighboring Magistrates counties bloom with precious stones, medicinal plants, and mythic monsters; only for their soil to turn hard and those mythic beasts to bathe the land with mortal blood.
For all the “good” their Heavenly Demon Emperor has brought to the realms; he has just as equally doomed the lands and mortals that live there.
Like old clock work, the Magistrate began tidying away the papers and scrolls he had been perusing at ye ban. The words had long begun to swim, blurring into a convoluted mess. Jiang Fu is tired, but more so he is frustrated.
‘Aiya, I can already feel the headache brewing.’
A slip of paper drifts to the ground from the stack he placed into his desk. The words just barely manage to stick out through his addled mind.
'Right, the imperial exams are in one lunar cycle. I will have to make sure that I am not replaceable to our “venerable” Junshang.'
Once all things are placed in their proper locations, he turns in a swirl of scholarly robes. Opening the door to his office the Magistrate comes face to face with the hallway of the west wing in his home.
“What?” Confusion paints itself across Jiang Fu's face. A soft crunch directing his bewildered stare to the grass that grows down the corridor of a house that should not connect to his office.
Flowers of blue and green with intertwined web-like stamen shift in a breeze that does not exist. The hall stretches far past a length possible in reality and doors of strange shapes with vibrant colors line the left side. From this position he can tell that not a single one repeats in design.
A sudden overwhelming spike of dread suffuses through his entire being.
‘Something is behind me.’
Whirl, Step, Thrust. Nothing.
Jiang Fu's palm shakes minutely. Nothing but air has met the man's strike and the door that once led into his office is now gone. There are only more doors and the never-ending corridor.
‘A dream. I'm in a dream.’ He realizes. ‘But, am I in a dream of my own mind's creation… or someone else's.’
Drawing his spiritual energy through his meridians, then out through his feet and into the dreamscape, Jiang Fu can sense the traces of demonic influence at the edges of his consciousness. Sharp silver eyes cut to a faint trail of demonic energy. Its faint presence starts from where his back was turned and meanders down into the depths of the dream.
‘It seems whoever has entered my dreamscape wants to have a discussion.’
Following the invitation down the corridor of doors; the further he delves into the dreamscape the more it begins to twist and warp. The floor waves up and down while the walls somehow stay perfectly aligned. Doors begin to appear on the ceiling; whilst turns in the halls make him begin walking in the opposing direction. When he finally comes to the end of the trail it disappears behind a door with kaleidoscopic patterns in teal, blue, and bronze.
‘This dream is incredibly realistic in a bizarre way. If it weren't for the fact that I am aware inside this dream; I would have believed this was a test from Junshang.’ He reaches out for the looping and knotted door handle. ‘There aren't many demons with dream manipulative abilities. Other than the Emperor himself; the only dream demon with this level of capability is Junshang's own teacher: The Meng Mo.’
With a click, he opens the door to an obsidian beach. Blood red waves lap at the jagged stones that make up the shore. The horizon being eaten by a gigantic eye that dips into the faraway waters. A dark pupil stares down directly at Jiang Fu. It's so big that he can see the red veins in the sclera that have popped to fill the sea underneath.
The door's handle disappears beneath his palm and when he whirls around to look; only the empty frame sits there.
Past that is a path carved into the obsidian rocks. It climbs up the side of a steep mountain with black and white squares. Red lanterns dangle in the air, linked together with red string, but no pillars to hold them up. Their red light, meant to guide the lost, beckons Jiang Fu. He can see the trail of demonic energy as it drifts towards the top of the mountain.
The red lanterns turn his robes a deep purple; an ironic joke he almost finds amusing.
As he ascends the mountain he notices the living flesh that peeks out from tenebrous corners. A disembodied hand grabbing blindly, a limbless torso hanging out of the rock, and eyes that stare down at him from up the path. Reminiscent of the “moon” at his back.
As Jiang Fu reaches the peak of the mountain a faint noise worms its way down and into his ears.
He pauses. “Is that a cart?”
Sure enough, as he crests the path and arrives at a plateau, appearing from the forest of hands is a merchant's cart. The creaking wheels harmonize with the clack and hollow sound of the teetering tower of a thousand faces stacked upon its back.
At the front of the cart is a man. Or more aptly: a demon.
The merchant does not pull the cart as a mortal man would, but rather it trails behind the demon on its own. From where Jiang Fu stands at the edge of their meeting point he can just barely make out the three faced mask it wears. The featureless faces are decorated with kaleidoscopic patterns in teal, blue, and bronze. In its hands is a golden rod intricately carved with screaming faces. On the hook of the rod is a lantern with calligraphy of the hanzi “面具”.
The demon merchant leads its cart out into the spiral of black and white squares. Jiang Fu never ceases “eye contact” with it and they stare at one another while the cart settles into place. The glow of the handheld lantern turns the demon's impossibly long ponytail a light hue of pink, floating around this creature like the pibo of an immortal god.
‘So this is the demon that brought me into this bizarre dream.’ Jiang Fu feels his spiritual energy flow just beneath his skin. A comfort as he steps into the palm of this strange merchant's hand.
“This lowly one greets the esteemed dream master. Would he be willing to explain to this stupid one why the master has led him into this place?”
The masked demon tilts its head as though considering Jiang Fu. A gentle chime draws the Magistrate’s attention to the lantern in its hands. A light green tassel with three white jade stars hangs from the bottom. Fortune, Prosperity, and Longevity.
‘Aiya!’ The tension melted from Jiang Fu’s frame. ‘This good merchant has the symbol of Sanxing! I have seen it all now: a dream demon who wishes to bring good things to those they encounter.’
Jiang Fu laughs. “Good merchant, have you come to sell this one success and happiness!”
“Of course,” A voice, distant like the top of an immortal mountain and clear like a spring pond, cuts through the mask as though it were absent. Yet another testament of the power this mere mask merchant has. To hear one crisply through a mask with no holes for the eyes or nose, let alone a mouth. “This Merchant has many faces to offer his customer. The question is: What are you wishing for, Magistrate?”
“Faces?”
“Yes,” A delicate hand presents the cart fit to overflowing with masks. “Faces.”
'Hoh..?' The Magistrate’s eyebrows quirk up with interest. A silent prompt for the Merchant to continue.
“Esteemed Magistrate, has there ever been anything you have struggled to accomplish?” The Merchant questions. “A legislation you wanted to pass, but could not? Perhaps the love of a woman left unreciprocated?”
“Or maybe…” The Merchant moves in a swift swirling pattern. By his cart one moment and behind Jiang Fu the next. “To make sure that you are never replaced?”
Before Jiang Fu’s eyes is the paper that had fallen to the floor of his office. The paperwork for the funds allocated to the imperial exams hosted this year by his county. The Merchant pushes the paper into Jiang Fu’s grip and they both watch as his hands roughly stretch the paper.
“Isn't it unfair, Magistrate? That another could suddenly take the county that you've spent all your life taking care of. You have shed so much blood, sweat, and tears over these lands. But all of that could come to an end because of a simple test.” The Merchant shakes his head solemnly. “These possible candidates are so young as well. It is clear that they would not have the experience necessary to run such complicated machinations.”
“They wouldn't.” Never in a million years would Jiang Fu have expected to agree with a dream demon. “These children would sooner run my precious county into the ground.”
“Aiya, I was afraid so.” The Merchant steps out from behind Jiang Fu, sighing wistfully. “You know, for as much good as the people like to say he does, this emperor of ours… does just as much harm.”
“YES!!!” Jiang Fu can feel a sudden elation flow through him. ‘Finally, someone who understands!’ Jiang Fu rushes forward to spin the Merchant around by the shoulders. A wide, manic grin displayed across his worn face. “This is exactly what I have been saying for lunar cycles!
The demonic nobility has been singing Junshang’s praises, but that man knows nothing about what it takes to govern an empire. Sure, he may know how to rule by demonic standards, but that's not true governing! These things take careful planning and maintaining a balance of what is good for the people and what is best for profit! That. Child! Just does whatever serves HIM best! We can look no further than the combining of the realms! Why was the destruction of cities and farmland allowed to happen? Because he didn’t want to bother with ruling two kingdoms? Then why conquer them to begin with!?!”
The repressed hatred and grievances spilled violently from Jiang Fu’s lips. The terror of all that you have worked for going up in flames because of someone else’s oversight. Jiang Fu was a man scared for his position and the power it brought him. Though, he was also a man scared of losing all he knew and being able to do nothing about it.
It made him easily manipulated.
“Magistrate Jiang.” A compassionate voice called to him. Jade-like fingers gently pried his tight grip from the Merchant’s shoulders. “Each of these masks can offer a variety of abilities so that one can take destiny into their own hands. It matters not if you have the ability to manipulate qi or don't. This one’s masks; they could make a mortal a cultivator and a cultivator a god.”
Jiang Fu’s breaths came in heaves that brushed against the mask of the Merchant. As he stared into the three faces, he noted that the kaleidoscopic patterns had begun to move. Bursts of orange peeked out from flowering centers and crystalyne designs. Like wheels turning the hands of time, pushing destiny forward.
A destiny that he could change.
“Then,” Magistrate Jiang's hands slipped from the Merchant’s grasp. “Show this Magistrate what your masks have to offer.”
Jiang Fu could hear the smile in the Merchant's voice when he replied.
“Right this way: Esteemed Magistrate Jiang.”
Theatrical exaggerations of humans, demons, and animals stacked so high it almost passed the fingertips of the hand forest. The tower seemed to have every type of person in the world and the mask to compliment them. All together in one man’s cart; the empire’s many faces.
‘Perhaps when the demon runs out of “faces” to give he’ll start selling the other kind of face!’ Jiang Fu smirked at the thought.
“This Magistrate wishes for a mask that will leave no competition in my path. My county will not fall by the hands of fools- even if that fool is someone who is favored by the heavens.”
“My… such dedication! As expected of the venerable Jiang Fu!” The Merchant says, no doubt moved by Jiang Fu's conviction. “A power that will swallow up anyone who even thinks to oppose you!”
The demon offers up his hand for Jiang Fu to take. A questioning glance is returned with a movement reinforcing the silent gesture. When Jiang Fu takes the hand, the Merchant plunges their joint grasp into the tower of masks.
“AH!” A startled yell rips itself from his throat. It feels as though the Merchant has stuck their hands into the warm, wet innards of a beast.
“Think of what they will take from you, Magistrate Jiang. Think of the state things will end up in if you sit by and do nothing.”
Wet, sliding movement surrounds their hands. Each thing that brushes against them has a flow of qi running through it.
‘This tower of masks is alive!!’ Jiang Fu’s eyes widened in shock.
“Think, Magistrate, of the lengths you are willing to go for your dream. What are you willing to give up to change reality? Your happiness? Your wealth? Your life?”
Jiang Fu can feel something solidifying in his hand. Hard and smooth. There is qi condensed into the core of it. The energy is dark and demonic, but strong. So strong that Jiang Fu could be a god.
“Yes.” He says, his voice ragged with want. “I'd give up anything for this dream to be reality.”
“Then take it, Jiang Fu.”
He pulls at the power beneath his fingertips. Ripping this thing free from the womb which birthed it. He stumbles back from the force of his pull, hands wet with blood, gripping a mask.
It's an animal mask. Glossy scales, long fangs, and a mouth so wide it could devour an elephant.
“A Bashe? How wonderful.”
Jiang Fu looks up at the Merchant’s voice. It takes a moment to register, but the world has fallen away to darkness. Only he and the Merchant stand in circles of light. The cart, half cast in shadow, looming far above the both of them. Those blue and green flowers wave at him from the Merchant’s feet. Almost like they're saying goodbye.
‘Dream Weavers. I forgot, they were said to “grow” whenever a dream demon had spent a long time in someone's mind.’
“Esteemed Magistrate,” the dream demon called out to him. “It's time to put on your new face.”
As though possessed, Jiang Fu slowly turned to look at the mask he held.
He couldn't take his eyes off of the yawning maw of the Bashe. His world felt heavy and slow. The mouth of the mask seemed to open on its own, growing large enough to swallow a person whole. In the next blink he could see himself turning the mask and reaching for the ties. Widening and placing, swallowing and tying. These were both reality and a dream in turn.
Once the mask was secured in place, Jiang Fu lowered his hands. Clutched in his grasp was a new mask of a scholarly human man. Movement in front of him made Jiang Fu look upwards. The dream demon’s hand was stretched out in askance. He could only watch as his body presented the mask to the demon.
Its surface slowly began to crumble; dust swept up in a wind that rushed towards the demon. The pieces swirled around before being drawn into the lantern. Red light intensified as more of the mask was absorbed into it.
The wind died with Jiang Fu's empty palms. Upon the golden rod, squeezed into the mass of screaming faces, was a new one that Jiang Fu knew had silver eyes.
“It was lovely doing business with you, Jiang Fu.” The demon said.
The Magistrate, whose face was now that of a greedy snake, did not reply.