The stars watched Li Mei think. And Li Mei watched the fire roar.

They were outside the city, just in front of the river. Only two men: the Wood Minister and a holy wu, stood before the great fire erected. Not even a slave – the ancestors demand that if one were to ask a question, one must frame it oneself. And frame it Li Mei did. The emperor could see this fire, he thought. The Ascended-Fathers would certainly take notice.

The wu presented a tortoiseshell to Li Mei, and a stone spike, a cross between a chisel and a brushpen. They were bathed in the shadow from the fire. At once, Li Mei worked the question into the bone. She knew exactly the curves and the shapes that would become the question – she had been considering the question all day.

At last, it was done. It was a dreadfully simple question.

我怎麼可能有助於

How might I serve.

The stars seemed to twinkle as she stepped towards the fire. It had clearly diminished somewhat since Li Mei began her plastromancy, but to Li Mei, it had seemed to grow, as if the glory of the Great had been fueling it further.

She threw the shell into the fire. At once, it rolled out and bumped at Li Mei’s feet.

“…”

“Gracious minister, please be patient. I... I don’t know what, perhaps we ought to-“

But Li Mei wasn’t listening to the shaking wu, she crouched down, and looked at the shell, carving spike clutched tightly in fist. If she squinted, she could almost make out…

犧牲

Sacrifice.

It was unquestionable. The markings were scorched onto the shell.

Li Mei slowly rose to her feet. The spike was still gripped in a dragon’s grasp. Her eyes were still gazing at the heart of the flame in grim determination. The wu grew silent.

“…gracious minister?”

Li Mei spun around, and then impaled the carving spike into the chest of the Wu. She took in every sense. The shocked, pained last face the aging wu made as his life drained out. The smell of ash and smoke. The warm wetness of the wu’s blood. The stars even seemed to twinkle once more, in greedy enthusiasm.

With all her might, she hurled the offering of the priest into the fire. The fire seemed to rise to become a glowing, burning mountain. It baked the blood into the Wood Minister’s skin, but she did not take notice. She simply watched, gleaming with pride, wonder, and happiness for a worthy service to those beyond. She stood there for hours, longer than she could remember.

When dawn finally came the fire was out, and the ashes were cooling. Li Mei had fallen asleep at some point during the night, perhaps exhausted by her séance or perhaps to dream dreams sent by the gods. As she rose, she could see the remains of her sacrifice.

As she walked over the white ashes, warmth seeping into her sandals, she picked up the skull, only just now finding the bloodstained spike still in hand.

The skull was hot to the touch, but Li Mei could see words formed of decades-old scars and freshly-branded splotches. The answer sent by Those Beyond.

採取什麼是你理所當然

Take what is rightfully yours.