Mmm. Milled oat porridge. Everyone was feeling generous with food stores now that we’d chased the armies of the Dragon and Tiger Kings out of the northlands, and wiped out the Vermilion Queen’s remaining army.

Wasn’t that great a plan, we still had to rebuild and it’d take a year or two before we’d have steady food supplies for everyone again. But a day of feasting and celebration after so long a time spent fighting to survive was needed, so we let it happen.

I stuffed another pork sausage into my mouth. I’d gotten used to human food over the years, since I always needed to feed baby half-buns extra protein to make sure they were born healthy, and I was almost as addicted to being pregnant as Kaoru was.

Honestly, I think having Song during the massacre warped her a little. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much I could do to help her work through any lingering trauma, so I just tried to remind her that popping out babies wasn’t a competition. I’m not sure she believes me.

I glanced over to where our kids were eating with the Vermilion Palace refugees, most of them dead-eyed and a little lost, or else whining about the simple meal and lackluster portions. I gave little Song a warning glance before she mouthed off about the reality of the situation. She’s a sweet girl, but about as patient with her mother’s antics as her namesake was. As a result, she’s a bit short about anything she disapproves of, especially if it involves Kaoru playing a prank or doing something she perceives as stupid in the vast depths of her fourteen-year-old wisdom.

Me, I’m just glad the cooks aren’t serving us any rabbit meat. I might’ve gotten used to an omnivorous diet, but I drew the line at cannibalism. And while none of my children had expressed any physical rabbit characteristics, they were still half-bun in nature and needed to consider the corruptive nature of eating your own kind.

“What do you mean you’re holding a feast?!”

Ah, there we go. Innocent remark from one of my younger kids, who was just happy to get a full bowl of oat porridge with honey and milk today, plus the announcement that he’d be given a full lunch, dinner, and afternoon snack besides. Children were at the very top of our priority list for who got fed, but even they only received two meals a day most of the time, and half their current portion.

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“We have been through hard times of late, madam. I am afraid that our current standard of living is far from properly hospitable, and I do apologize. But please, do enjoy your breakfast. We were served my personal favorites today.”

It was true. The oat porridge was very much a personal favorite, and I actually ate mine completely plain, when I got food at all. But someone snuck some ground cassia bark and a touch of cane syrup in, adding depth and spice.

Fine. This was better. But those were hard to come by in our lands, harder still in the deep mountains. I rarely indulged, even when I had porridge to put it in.

Served alongside the porridge was a generous helping of fried eggs, several very nice links of pork sausage, and miso soup made with a mushroom broth. We even had fresh milk to drink, still warm from the goats.

Nothing like the sumptuous meals the Four Kings held every hour, though.

Some of the more imperious women turned their noses up, but others felt their hunger and remembered the children they were carrying, and ate up. And started eating faster when they realized it was actually good fare, even if it was a lot rougher than they were used to.

Which encouraged the spoiled birds to eat. I finished my meal, and started to clean up my dishes. I had students to train.

We traveled out to the Song Monastery’s valley. The monastery itself was being rebuilt now, along with hundreds of towns and villages across the north. The folk of the west lamented the loss of their own homes, but admitted it was easier to exist out here, and that trying to survive near the caldera of an erupting supervolcano was… unlikely to result in an extended lifespan. Though a few fire cultivators went there for a time to study the qi. Never for long though, the atmosphere was too full of poisonous things to be safe for anyone.

But here in the valley, the qi levels were returning to the concentration they’d had before the Tortoise King attacked. Birdsong was everywhere, and I saw one of my distant cousins get snagged by a hawk. Nature was healing.

There were about a dozen students in today’s group. I never took on more than twenty, since I preferred to give each individual some personal attention. They sat in a circle, and we began to meditate.

“All right. Let’s begin today’s lesson.”