Lachrymose fluid spilled from Bixian’s eye socket and flowed down her cheek. She continued to weep from the wound even as she squeezed her eyelid shut, the aftermath much more painful than the injury.

Erlang Shen stood before her holding her left eye, while the Qilin Sage and his apprentice watched from a distance. The Qilin Sage gripped his flywhisk, knuckles white, while Qian Hu averted his eyes at the ghastly sight.

Bixian pressed her palm into her socket and glared at her former master, challenging him to look away. It was ironic, how he who had no compunctions stripping his apprentice of his tiger skin now felt disgust at violence performed at his own request.

Her eye was handed to the hound that sat at Erlang Shen’s side, who swallowed it with a gulp. Her continued refusal to talk was a growing embarrassment to Heaven’s power. The interrogations were now more exercises in cruelty than attempts to gather information.

A part of her was surprised they had waited so long—even as time was slowed up in Heaven, it felt like she had been captive for a month or so. She had expected Heaven to become bored of her in that amount of time; either having enacted their divine justice or given up and forgotten about the whole ordeal. How could she have known that her patient waiting only made the situation worse?

Erlang Shen, the Jade Emperor’s bastard nephew, led his dog away, likely to find and destroy Clear Water Mountain once and for all. As Bixian watched them leave, she wondered what the nature of Xiao Tian Quan’s love for its master was. Was it a fawning dog and its master, or respect between equals? Did the hound ever dream of a life beyond its master’s side?

The rest of the interrogation party left as well, the Qilin Sage avoiding her gaze. His apprentice, on the other hand, lingered at the doorway, unable to tear his eyes away from the violence wrought just minutes before. Bixian raised her chin to the boy—for he was still just a boy, ripped out of his tiger form just five years ago—and whispered, “Go.” She hoped he understood what she meant by the word.

She was once again alone in her cell. Alone, until Xiu Chan crawled out from the crack in the wall where it hid when the interrogators arrived.

“Are you alright?” it called out, recoiling when Bixian turned to face it with her marred face. “What have they done?”

“They will use my eye to find Clear Water Mountain.”

“Can we stop them?”

The innocence with which the question was asked made Bixian laugh, the sudden increase in pressure causing more fluid to leak from her wound. “What can we do from here? The eye has already been taken. I have no power here.”

“Maybe not, but…” Xiu Chan retreated back into the crack in the wall. “Come look.”

Bixian lowered herself onto the floor and positioned her good eye near the hole. She felt it before she could see it: the breeze from outside air, cool upon her face. She hadn’t realized how stagnant the air was inside the pagoda. Her eyes soon confirmed it: a spark of light shining within the darkness, a hint of Heaven outside the walls.

“I guess even the Heavenly Pagoda can crack.”

“There’s just enough space for me to pass through,” the worm continued.

“Then why are you still here? Go, experience the outside world. Turn what you only know as words into real memories.”

“I’ll stay if you ask me,” Xiu Chan urged. “Just say the word…”

Bixian reached down and cupped her hands around the worm, bringing it eye to eye though it barely had a face. “There is no inherent virtue in suffering,” she stated firmly. “So do not suffer on my behalf.” Reaching behind her ear, she plucked a stray hair, which then transformed into a small feather.

“Take this,” she said, handing the feather to Xiu Chan. “Fly.”

The worm disappeared with the feather in its mouth. The last thing Bixian felt was a cool breeze, the chill of a cloud as it expanded to fill the horizon. An apology from the sky that had forsaken her.

-

The Qilin Sage returned to his temple in shame.

Three times Heaven sent their squadrons, led by Erlang Shen and his heavenly hound. Bixian’s eye was in the dog’s belly, all images that it had seen were known to the hound, and yet the location of Clear Water Mountain eluded Heaven’s sight.

Three squadrons Heaven sent, and it would not spare a fourth. To have yet another failure would be a scar upon Heaven’s reputation. How dare this cabal of demons refuse to be found.

It was an embarrassment upon Heaven, and as the one who brought the issue to their fore, he was the one who must shoulder the blame.

“Would you like something to eat, Master?” Qian Hu asked once they were on solid ground. Loyal to the last, never minding the grumbling of his own stomach. The instinct to eat dulled by years in human form.

“No need,” the Qilin Sage replied. “It is late, and everyone is sleeping. We should retire as well.”

He turned to face his newest disciple, who had knelt on the ground, bowing in supplication to his master.

“What are you doing, foolish boy?”

With tears in his eyes, Qian Hu pressed his forehead deeper into the soil. “I thank you, Master, for all that you have given me: the names of all the wonders of the world, and the ability to speak and write them. I thank you for the years you’ve let me be by your side.” Qian Hu paused, at a loss for words.

“However,” The Qilin Sage offered. He knew a goodbye when he heard one. Not all of his disciples stayed.

“However,” continued Qian Hu. “I no longer wish to remain here. The disciple’s path is not for me.”

The Qilin Sage bent down to raise his disciple to his feet. “Where else would you go? What else can you do?”

“I want to live as mortals do. Without gods or demons, exigences and interdictions. I cannot be happy in this world that you chose for me.”

“And you think you can leave,” the Qilin Sage said quietly.

“With your blessing, I want to.”

The Qilin Sage reached inside his robe and brandished the Knife of Sublimation. Qian Hu flinched, for even if he did not remember the violence of being ripped from his true form, his body did. The Qilin Sage tightened his grip on the Knife as he brought it before his disciple, one hand on the handle and one hand on the blade.

“Take my blessing then,” he said, holding the Knife out to Qian Hu. “Remember where you come from. Remember the gift I gave you.”

Still kneeling, Qian Hu held the blade up to his forehead, close to the mark of the tiger he still bore. The Qilin Sage worried for a second that his apprentice would try to carve the last remaining trace of animal from his body, but the boy did not disfigure himself. Instead, he tucked the knife into his belt as he rose.

The Qilin Sage watched as Qian Hu walked from the temple, looking back every few steps as if his master would vanish at any second. He watched as the spirit of his old friend left the safety of his care, watched as his apprentice chose the drudgery of mortal life over divine cultivation.

A splitting headache was developing at his temples. The Qilin Sage raised his hand to massage them, loosening some strands of hair in the process. The wind stirred, the locks of white dancing like gossamer on the breeze.

-

The Weaver visited Bixian one last time.

“Please consider your options,” she begged, reaching through the bars as if grabbing for Bixian’s hands.

Bixian tilted her head to look at the goddess through her good eye. “If I yield now, what would be the purpose of me losing an eye?”

“You’ll lose more than that if this wild goose chase continues. Heaven’s squadrons cannot find Clear Water Mountain. The Jade Emperor is furious and General Li Jing is near disgrace. There is still chance for you to bargain.”

“What do I ask for?” Bixian asked bitterly. “Mercy for a den of demons, mongrels, and truant gods? They would never give in.”

“Not for the demons, no, but you could spare the humans. The children. Before the General gets impatient and razes the whole mountain range to the ground.”

“They would scar the earth itself…”

“The Jade Emperor is furious and the Heavenly General is near disgrace,” the Weaver repeated. “You will die alone within your cell, having prevented nothing. Please, Sister Crane, consider your options. There is no reason for your suffering.”

“No reason but loyalty.”

“Is that worth your daughter’s life?”

Bixian glared at the Weaver, though she could not maintain the hate in her eyes for long. She would have laid down her neck upon any sword for Qiping’s sake. It was hardly a step to the left to sacrifice her loyalty for the same reason.

Once she made it clear she would talk, the world shifted around her. She knew she was being moved from the Heavenly Pagoda, but the speed with which the walls were replaced by soldiers in golden armor made it seem like the building itself was melting away to the Jade Emperor’s court.

The dead had no need for fear. She looked up to the seated monarchs, standing tall until she was made to bow.

The Jade Emperor wore the same expression as he did when he first judged her; it seemed to have never left his face, the furrows of his jowls and brow deepened upon a chiseled statue.

“You have finally decided to speak,” he exclaimed. His voice boomed through the hall, where a menagerie of minor gods and goddesses had gathered to witness the spectacle. Bixian did not flinch; she had known for a while now the bravado of thunder.

“Three conditions.” Bixian’s voice broke as she spoke, not out of nervousness but out of misuse.

The Jade Emperor did not care for either; already, he was already tired of the crane’s impudence. “You dare make demands in your position!” He slammed his fist down on the arm of his chair, and young women attending to him and the Queen Mother flinched, several turning into birds and scattering away.

Was Tangyou every one of them, Bixian wondered. Would she share her sisters’ fear? Or stand tall and proud as the woman Bixian knew her as, the undaunted leader of the Qiao.

Bixian did not flinch. She had no more reason to fear. “First, the children and the humans will be spared.”

“The impudence,” seethed the Jade Emperor. A murmur went around the gathered gods.

“Second,” Bixian continued, “my daughter will be given immortality.” Gathering all of her remaining energy, she forced her back to remain straight, and for her legs to remain standing. “And third, I will be granted a position in Heaven’s court.”

Silence descended on the scene. Bixian willed her heart to stop beating so quickly, hoped that the assembled gods could not see her shaking. It was a ridiculous thing to ask for, brought forward as a prisoner and released as a courtier. But negotiations came in threes, and if she were to betray all that she stood for, she might as well get her heart’s desire in the process.

Instead of ordering her execution on the spot, Jade Emperor began to laugh.

“Immortality for a nameless human girl? Godhood for a traitor such as you? Have you never bargained in your life?”

“When one has so little, they tend to ask for a lot.”

“So I am to accede, and you will lead us to your cabal of demons?”

Despite herself, Bixian felt a glimmer of hope. She still had tools to bargain with. “The mere fact you consider the Qiao merely a cabal of demons means I have information to give.”

“Tell me, then,” the Jade Emperor goaded. “Show me you are of use.”

Bixian closed her eyes and prayed they would forgive her. She knew they wouldn’t. “You should take a census of your servants. The leaders of the Qiao Clan are a pillar dragon, Ao Luming of the Eastern Sea, and a celestial phoenix, Tangyou. They abandoned Heaven for their love, and founded the village in Clear Water Mountain along with a snake demon and a Tang prince.”

Someone bellowed out, and Bixian turned to see the dragons descending from their pillars, rushing towards her with hatred in their eyes. The Jade Emperor raised his hand, and Heaven’s soldiers pointed their glaives at the dragons to halt their attack.

“They dare break Heaven’s laws,” he seethed. The Queen Mother and the Evening Star both rushed to calm him.

Bixian bowed her head, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible. “You see, Your Majesty, I can be of use yet.”

“And you have three conditions,” the Evening Star addressed her.

“As I said before. Spare the children. Give my daughter immortality. Grant me divinity. I have already given up valuable information to you; that should be good for one exchange.”

“And what else are you willing to give?”

“I will lead you to Clear Water Mountain.”

“Three squadrons have already tried and become lost in the mountain fog,” scowled the Heavenly General. “What makes you think you can find it?”

“The leaders are sentimental,” she said. “The fog will part for a member of the Qiao.”

“That is two,” the Evening Star said. “What about the third?”

Bixian lowered her head and raised her arms up in obeisance. “If you grant me godhood, I will gladly become an executor of Heaven’s will. Already I break my ties with the Qiao—”

“You cannot make your condition the same as the price you pay,” the Jade Emperor demanded. Glancing around the court, his eyes settled on the minor god who had started this headache. With a gesture, the Qilin Sage stepped forward. A shock of white hair was upon his head, and his face was old and weathered; no longer the handsome young man, the Qilin Sage truly looked his three hundred years.

“Give her the Knife of Sublimation,” he ordered.

The Qilin Sage dropped to his knees. “A thousand grievances you have against me, your majesty, but you must forgive me one more. I have entrusted the Knife of Sublimation to my former apprentice, who now walks among the mortals as a common man.”

“And how do you account for such a powerful artifact, now that it moves along mortals?”

The Qilin Sage bowed so deeply he almost sunk into the clouds on the floor. “I trust my apprentice. The Knife will be safe in his care.” Anger boiled in Bixian’s chest. Once again the Qilin Sage bestowed his trust on other disciples and not her. Would it have been so simple, if she had merely asked to borrow the Knife? Would he have relented, or hemmed and hawed at the impropriety before sending her off on a menial task?

Once again she was reminded of how little he actually entrusted to her. She was a pair of wings, a pair of hands, nothing more.

“No matter,” said the Jade Emperor, his gaze moving to the Weaver. “The knife has a sister. Go and find it.”

The Weaver bowed and retreated, sparing Bixian one last sorrowful glance. She soon returned with a knife identical to the Knife of Sublimation Bixian had once held. The Jade Emperor nodded towards Bixian, and the guards around her parted their spears, allowing the Weaver to approach.

No going back now. Bixian took the handle of the second Knife of Sublimation and it burned her palm. She gripped it tight as the Jade Emperor told her the terms of her cooperation.

This is the end of part 3. The next part is where things come to a head; we're getting to the Fall part of the Glorious Qiao.