Tian Han had tried to stop the Peak Master several times over the last few hours, but Fu Ran was insistent on digging up the graveyard. He was completely coated in a layer of dirt; it had somehow gotten under his nails, in his hair, and on those previously, perfectly clean, gray robes. This was infuriating to his guest. Tian Han had held his tongue for the past few hours, but now he was frustrated to the point of gripping at the sides of his trousers. Fabric wrinkled upon being fiercely clutched between his knuckles. “Enough!” Tian Han growled, but still kept his voice from rising too loud.

Fu Ran looked up from the hole he had dug himself into, and wore a perplexed tenseness on his face as the other man stepped closer to the grave.

“Give me your hand,” Tian Han demanded.

Because he thought he may be buried just like in his dreams, Fu Ran obediently took the offered hand. Tian Han had yanked him up without warning, a hand finding Fu Ran’s back as to not pull too harshly on his thin arm.

His feet landed flat on the ledge of the hole, but his torso crashed into Tian Han. Fu Ran grimaced, thinking that Tian Han had been intentionally rough with him, and angrily asked, “Hey, what was that for?”

“Take this off. You are completely covered in mud.” Tian Han’s features were twisted as he lowered his hand to point at the dirt staining Fu Ran's robes.

He could not imagine why the Imperial Tyrant was so angry over a little dirt, but Fu Ran did not want to listen anyways.

No, he had a resounding thought.

He absolutely could NOT do that. It was merely asking his foresight to be correct, because when he thought about the previous night’s dream, there was one major thing different from that version of him and his current state.

He wore all white.

All Peak Masters of An Xian Yun Peak dressed at least a bit similarly beneath their chosen outer ones. Underneath the intricate purple and gray designs of his most comfortable dress, he was no exception. He wore similar white inner robes. Though the ones from his dream were fashioned in a manner that sat like mourning robes on his body, he did not wish to take chances.

Stress slowly began to show on Fu Ran’s face as he furrowed his brows. “Not happening,” he said defiantly clutching onto the inner collar of white.

“It was only a simple request. Why are you being stubborn about this?”

“And why does a little dirt on me offend you?”

“It isn't like that,” Tian Han said, defeated. Upon looking at his hands for more than a few seconds, he hesitantly backed away. For only a moment, there was a sullen look of guilt in those golden eyes. He backed up further and began to remove his own black robe, and then held it to Fu Ran. “Wear this. What does Shizun want dug up? I’ll do it.”

“You needn’t call me Shizun,” Fu Ran huffed.

It didn’t take more than a few moments of thought to realize that Tian Han was offering to take the brunt of the labor. Fu Ran couldn’t find a reason to say no, so he agreed. “Fine,” he said.

With the agreement made, Fu Ran took the black clothes and walked closer to the red shine near the graveyard. He removed his robe and swapped it out for the darker one. It felt so foreign. Despite the duller colors, it felt high quality against his neck and wrists. It was smooth, but not shiny like silk. The hardest thing to get used to was probably the scent.

Unlike the aroma of his favorite wisteria tree, this robe smelled of burnt wood. There was a sweeter scent underneath that too… Was it honey? A grin pushed up his cheeks and his brows lifted in relief. Fu Ran was amused, as it was oddly childish to assign scents of sweets to the Tyrant Emperor.

He sat for a few moments inspecting the threads he had been given to wear. He lifted and tugged at the shorter sleeves, while part of him lamented the loss of his longer ones. Ghastly pale skin could be seen from beneath the black and red fabric.

Pulling him away from his scrutiny, a shovel was stuck into the ground about three feet in front of him.. Tian Han propped on the handle.

Tian Han’s torso was bent down far enough to meet eyes with the sitting Peak Master.

How is my luck so poor? Fu Ran mentally asked. They were such pretty eyes, as that amber hue was one he had never seen someone wear before Wan Yu. Yet they had to be plastered onto the one man whose beauty couldn’t be appreciated.

Since it seemed like Tian Han was waiting patiently, Fu Ran humored him and asked, “What is it?” Fu Ran watched for any changes in his guest's expression. Nothing. He went to raise his sleeve up to his lips to hide the incoming nervous pout, but was disappointed when the sleeves were too short to do what he wanted.

“Now, what does Shizun want me to dig up?” Corners of the lips in front of him curled up at the ends. It seemed that Tian Han’s previous anger had faded away, but now it was replaced with a playful grin.

Fu Ran went rigid at the change. For some reason it was easier to look at Tian Han when he fit the dream’s premonition, so when he didn’t act like that, it was frightening. Wearing a frown, Fu Ran didn’t bother to hide his anger and annoyance.

“I am not your Shizun. I am looking for a spirit vessel.”

“You think this mission involves a curse?” Tian Han seemed genuinely surprised by this.

Fu Ran stated his simple observation. “Try for yourself. If you feel for spiritual energy, do you feel anything at all?”

Sensing for spiritual presence around the shine would reveal one truth: There were no resting spirits here at all. This was strange, because in places where the dead rested, there would be traces.

When someone living passes on, the body still houses lingering amounts of energy. Usually not much, unless they were cultivating a specific path of training. But it was enough to become noticeable when bodies were gathered in large amounts. Graveyards are usually fueled with spiritual energy, and it should be masking the entire area of the shrine.

The dead also can not travel far, as they would be enjoying everlasting rest.

Spirits didn’t like to leave their burial location, even if they were woken up, so their presence should still be evident. The only conclusion Fu Ran could make was that the spirits had moved away.

“These holes should undoubtedly reek of something, at least. Yet the bugs flying around the shrine have more energy than these graves! How infuriating!” Fu Ran groaned.

Tian Han listened to Fu Ran's words and scanned the area, then raised his hands in defeat. “I see. So they aren’t here anymore then? I didn’t notice. Truly, nothing gets past Shizun at all.” Despite admitting his shock, his expression looked content and he wore a soft smile.

Fu Ran fought every urge in his body to not roll his eyes. He could do that later, when the tyrant had gotten to work digging. It was best not to be so blatantly rude right in front of Tian Han. For now he had let his torso collapse over his knees, and he propped his chin up on a bent wrist.

With a lazy movement of his free hand, Fu Ran waved Tian Han off to work. Go on, Tyrant! Do as you offered, he thought.

It took only about five holes for night to set in. It wasn't that Tian Han was slow, he was actually quite diligent in his work ethic, but none of these graves held what he was looking for. Coming up empty, the digging continued. Grave after grave they unearthed caskets and no spirit vessel was found.

A spirit vessel was a trinket. They were often porcelain dolls, dressed in soft white clothing, but there were so many other possibilities. As long as it had a high constitution to spiritual energy, it could be used to hold it as well. Because of this, a spirit vessel could be: a jade amulet, a qi imbued vase with either pretty or ugly designs, and many more. The limitation was almost up to one's own imagination, so long as one had willingness to restart should it fail.

Once a curse was placed on the chosen item, it would have the ability to draw in warped demonic entities, or spirits.

While apprenticing under his Shizun, Fu Ran, along with Shesui Lang and Zhi Lao, had a few run ins with curses. Searching the premise became the first-check step into seeing why wandering spirits were no longer resting. If left alone small issues could grow into a city ending disaster.

Fu Ran wouldn’t say that disturbing some ghosts would equal a disaster, but it could lead to large numbers of Evil Spirits, or corrupted wandering spirits.

Tian Han took a break to sit beside Fu Ran on the wrapped shrine porch. He was dripping sweat now, and his skin was reddened in various places from the non stop work.

It was still spring, albeit late, so it wasn’t the hotter seasons yet, but by no means was it cool either. This Peak Master isn't a monster, Fu Ran thought, searching his belongings for a satchel of water. Tian Han looked terribly excited when he was presented with a drink, and this almost made Fu Ran want to tear the satchel right back from his hands!

It was frustrating how easy his moods swung when dealing with doom.

Fu Ran surmised that, somewhere deep down, this tyrant knew. Tian Han must have known that his strange personality caused stress and anxiety, and Fu Ran wanted none of it!

Glaring was interrupted by a genuine, “Thank you,” from Tian Han.

Fu Ran felt a shred of guilt for thinking such hostile thoughts. Tian Han doesn’t know the future, and this much had already made itself clear. He would not be so kind if he did.

“It’s nothing. This Peak Master just doesn’t want to see you collapsing due to heat exhaustion,” Fu Ran felt his fingers fixated on the inner hem of his borrowed robes.

Tian Han let his hand limply point towards the white sword at Fu Ran’s hip. “Is there no way to use your blade to aid the investigation?” he asked. Fu Ran began to feel his own inadequacies.

Shi Wei Ji had such a powerful ability, and yet… such a huge downside. “This Master has tried. Shi Wei Ji isn't responding clearly,” Fu Ran sounded mournful.

Most days, Shi Wei Ji could show him the location of missing items. It was such a useful ability, and came with many benefits, but it also came with terrible complications as well. The most tedious part of using his foresight was that on an average day, he could get one measly vision.

That was the worst part of trying to use Calamity Recall, or any of Shi Wei Ji’s smaller skills. If an event’s course did not change: the vision given by his blade would not change either. He would just receive the same fortune over and over until something changed the path of fate. The visions were also prioritized, and the most deadly images came first.

As things were right now… He was going to end up dead under some other individual’s burial dirt! So, of course his blade would not take the time to show him one missing item. Shi Wei Ji was too busy reminding Fu Ran of how he should not trust Tian Han for even a single second.

Tian Han looked downtrodden, his sour expression was only amplified by the sweat coated in a thin layer over his skin. He looked tired and said, “Well, it can’t be helped.” Tian Han stood up. He drank a few more sips from the satchel and drenched his face in the cooler, clean water. With his complaining only lasting a few words, he was back to work.

Fu Ran wondered where he got his boundless energy. He was much like Wan Yu in that manner.

***

A few hours into the night, the shrine yard was filled with the sounds of ringing metal. Even the man doing the digging seemed to be shocked.

Fu Ran came to look, and Tian Han had lit a spiritual flame to rest beside him, otherwise the darkness would have gotten too thick. The wetness of sweat caused his skin to glisten even more from the little fire.

If Fu Ran was dirty before, then Tian Han must be considered a mess. He was covered in hours worth of hard labor, the pale blue robes stained.

Wiping away the sweat with the back of his sleeve, Tian Han turned his attention to Fu Ran. “I hit something metal, and coffins definitely have that much metal. It’s strange.” He had dug about six feet down already so Fu Ran kneeled onto the grass beside the hole and peered inside.

It looked like a flat piece of metal, or a sign? It wasn’t rusted in the slightest, and there were some inscriptions on it, but most of it remained under earth still. Tian Han kept digging and dusting it off, though it seemed like it would be a longer process to uncover it fully.

Trying to help dig got Fu Ran scolded by Tian Han, and laying down made him feel like a true lazy master. He decided the latter was easier to handle with no other sect members judging him for it. He laid to look at the stars, as the night passed.

Judging by the position of the moon, it was probably close to midnight. He believed the children would have finished by now, or to be more accurately, he had half-believed them to give up.

Being confident of the involvement of a curse, he didn’t think many answers would be found in Bei Zangli, but he did want to hear any findings. His idea was merely a theory, and there was always the chance that his disciples found out more clues.