Sweet Dumpling stands off to the side, quiet and patient, as the elders discuss things. He’s used to shouting from the market, so the noise never bothered him, but his mother insists that they speak quietly. She says it’s more respectful and doesn’t upset the spirits. Considering how much misfortune they’d had to endure when it was his relatives shouting, he’s more than willing to keep his silence.
Today Heavenly Golden Fist’s favorite nephew and adopted son, Golden Sky Arch, is officially recognised dead. There aren’t many of the main branch family left now. So today is an auspicious day. Or so his mother told him.
He feels her fingers pressing into his flesh where their hands are connected in their secret language. She says that no one can overhear or decode it without being between them and knowing them as well as they know one another.
Sweet Dumpling’s father had abandoned his mother for a mistress, that mistress birthing Golden Sky Arch. Instead of the family punishing Soaring In Golden Heavens for his constant infidelity, they stated that none of the new wives mattered, because his first wife had died so well that she’d given them face, and no new wife could ever outshine her.
He steals a peek at his half-sister, Shimmering Steel, who stands quivering with fury. His mother said that his sister was ambitious and thought she deserved the throne, and kept trying to prove it, but no woman could inherit the position of Emperor. True, the empire isn’t what it used to be, the Phoenix God having greatly expanded it in his long reign, but it’s still an empire, and they’re descendants of the largest empire there was in this region. Other than the Golden Sun Empire.
“Come, come!”
Sweet Dumpling releases his mother’s hand, bowing respectfully before moving forward with his head lowered. When he gets a few feet from his uncle, his uncle scoffs, reaching out and pulling him onto his lap. His mother didn’t tell him what to do if this happened.
Sweet Dumpling stares forward, waiting to feel his mother’s hand, waiting for her instructions, but his uncle laughs before she can retrieve him.
“There’s no need for you to bow your head to anyone who isn’t the seated emperor. Even then you might take the throne one day,” his uncle grins at him.
Sweet Dumpling relaxes. His mother had schooled him well in what to do if anyone tries to trick him into any talk of treason or actions against the empire. Their standing may have been stripped, but they were no fools.
-No one wants to hear a yapping child. Stay silent! We can report the fools later.-
He remembers.
“Now… My cherished nephew has perished, and I have no living heirs,” Heavenly Golden Fist nods, jaw clenched before he turns back to Sweet Dumpling. “From today onward you will be the heir to Thousand Valleys. You bow to no one, and anyone who doesn’t show you face will know that they may be cut down for their impudence,” Heavenly Golden Fist says while making a chopping motion with his large hand. “How’s that sound?”
“I would be honored to serve the family again,” Sweet Dumping recites, closing his eyes and giving the barest of nods before straightening.
“Very good! Very good,” his uncle laudes him, but these are simple things he learned before they were removed from the main house. “Now, what is your name?”
“When Gentle String Melody was known as the soul balm of Soaring In Golden Heavens, this Sweet Dumpling was named Golden Blade God,” Sweet Dumpling recites, hand outstretched as he sweeps it slowly from the side to place it over his heart and lightly inclines his head.
“Oh?” Heavenly Golden Fist looks surprised. Sweet Dumpling’s mother had warned him that people remember rank over names, and he remembers how much praise they’d heaped on her before his father took a new wife. “Is that so?”
Sweet Dumpling regulates his breathing, a family technique he’d learned very young. His mother had been his father’s light, the balm that eased his suffering after the loss of the martyr his wife had become, but for this man to forget the beauty his mother had shared, and the years of pain and humiliation she’d suffered after --.
“Truly, you are your father’s son, then,” Heavenly Golden Fist remarks casually.
If Sweet Dumpling hadn’t been as well-raised and well-trained as his mother could manage, his nails might have cut into the flesh of his palm. To not be compared to his ever diligent mother, but to a faithless bounder was no compliment. If Soaring In Golden Heavens was not already dead he’d be deserving of death.
“Golden Blade God was a treasure and has continued to train diligently during all these years of hardship and humiliation. If you were to test him you would see that his spirit hasn’t flagged, and he’s only become more suited to the Golden Heaven’s Clan,” Gentle String Melody steps forward, stance ever proud yet respectful. Truly Sweet Dumpling’s mother was a saint to still care about the family as she had.
“So it seems,” Heavenly Golden Fist says as he sends the smallest fraction of Qi into Golden Blade God, Sweet Dumpling leaping to the ground, and immediately doing his forms to stop it from ruining his core. “An excellent choice.” Heavenly Golden Fist dismisses Sweet Dumpling and Gentle String Melody, the later gracefully flowing forward to guide her son away without interfering with his training.
While Heavenly Golden Fist is wondering why they never remarried Gentle String Melody or adopted her into the family so she could produce more geniuses, Sweet Dumpling, once again Golden Blade God continues to channel the burning Qi scouring through his insides. He nearly collapses in relief when his mother begins going through forms of her own, easing his suffering and helping disperse some of the Qi into the surroundings.
Gentle String Melody’s ability to ease her husband’s torment was no euphemism or metaphor. When his Core would destabilized from his grief, his Qi out of control, she could take on the burden, pulling some of the rampaging Qi out at cost to herself. This would buy him the time needed to gather himself and stabilize his Core through meditation, stopping his rampaging Qi and cycling the bits removed and held at bay by Gentle String Melody’s caring ministrations.
But to have someone who knew of his shameful inability to control himself? No, once he’d finished mourning and recovered enough of himself to no longer need assistance he’d quickly taken a new wife while besmirching Gentle String Melody’s reputation. He’d even implied that Golden Blade God wasn’t his, although there was never any proof to this shameful allegation.
Once Golden Blade God had been fully reinstated into the family he’d managed to cycle most of the errant Qi. His mother was finally given the recognition she’d deserved, adopted as a member of the family, and renamed Gentle Golden Dawn, she was now free to remarry without shame. And for those who had attempted to force that shame on her.
-We’ve kept our heads from their blades, let’s see if they can do the same,- she massages into his shoulders as she guides him back through the compound with the intention that he learn his new home.
-Doubtful, mother,- Golden Blade God squeezes into her hand, appearing to just reach up and touch her fingers.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
So many servants and branch family members who had humiliated and abused them are now bowing and shuffling away quickly. His mother warns him that they can’t strike yet, that they have to establish their home first, and he understands. Truly, it would be pointless to shame themselves so quickly, and with no gain.
His mother finds an acceptable manor compound to claim, their former home long defiled by his father’s most embarrassing wife, they settle in. Anyone looking in would see them quietly, meticulously, purifying the home and setting things as they would like. A few gentle reassuring touches here and there, but very little actual conversation. Surprised are those who feared they’d retaliate back at those who had mistreated them. Surprised are those who hoped they’d humiliate themselves with vindictive or childish outbursts. But plans were made in full view.
The night is spent accepting false welcome gifts by people too ashamed or uncertain to give them during the day, and from servants of masters even more cowardly. Gentle String Melody is ever courteous, ever respectful, but never submissive or subservient, the change in attitude and the re-emergence of this powerful woman causing many of the false well-wishers to flee at the realization that they’d made a powerful enemy who now had access to the resources to punish them. Some servants, on seeing Gentle String Melody’s bearing, realize that the fortunes of their master’s homes are changing and quickly disappear after wishing their former master’s well.
The next morning sees a messenger with a request from Heavenly Golden Fist. Golden Blade God is to go to Shimmering Steel’s compound to learn about the families most profitable holdings and take gifts to give to the managers for their hard work. Gentle String Melody bows to her son, walking forward and silently telling him that he’s well-trained.
Sweet Dumpling looks at his mother in fearful surprise. She plans for him to go on his own, with the knowledge that Shimmering Steel manages the family’s fortunes, but doesn’t receive credit for it, and he’s to deliver gifts to people who don’t exist. But she’s got tasks of her own. He calms as he realizes how much harder his mother’s tasks must be if they’re to get their proper recognition. If they are to properly punish those who have earned the wrath of the heaven’s.
“I’m off to visit the holdings, mother,” Golden Blade God says out loud as he heads towards the carriages waiting with their gifts and guards with the hope that this isn’t just a veiled assassination attempt.
He’s surprised when Heavenly Golden Fist, his adoptive father, comes around a carriage to greet him. It is good that his mother and he are separated. It makes it less likely that any schemes targeted at them separately will be as effective.
“Shimmering Steel will have a gift for you, no doubt,” Heavenly Golden Fist smiles. Shimmering Steel doesn’t know that her nephew is coming much less expects a gift. Let’s see how well she handles this, he chuckles to himself. “Take care to learn well. Not just her words,” he raises a finger, but the boy’s focus never wavers. “Be mindful of her actions.”
“It is as you say,” Golden Blade God says noncommittally. It seems to be enough.
Golden Blade God keeps his guard up as the procession is stopped numerous times for more well-wishers to publicly offer their support to him and his mother. All of these people had been barking so loudly less than a week ago, for them to purr and mewl was sickening, but he is his mother’s son. He will acknowledge and forgive them their mistakes, but, as the man of his house, he must also make sure they know such behavior will not be tolerated. Their punishments will come later.
By the time the procession is halfway to the transfer script Golden Blade God has to practice his breathing exercises to control his rage. An hour. They’ve been on a 10 minute ride across the compound and around the corner for an hour. He can’t request the guards stop stopping, it’d be rude to deny the sycophants and backstabbers their chance to slyly beg forgiveness. He’s not going to shame his mother by seeming ungrateful. Not like this.
Eventually they make it through the scripts and the trip is so much faster, ten minutes taking ten minutes, when they move from the circles, wait for everyone to come through, do a quick check, and then move to meet Shimmering Steel at one of the many holdings she’s created and or caused to prosper.
As he pushes the rage back to its little corner for later use, he notes Shimmering Steel accepting a birdcage from a very plainly dressed man before the unknown personage climbs into a carriage. He’s surprised that she could arrange a delivery on such short notice, considering how busy she must be. He’s very impressed, even if the rest of the family isn’t. But the rest of the family have proven themselves petty idiots.
He yelps, cursing himself even as he tries to calm his bladder. Shimmering Steel, a steely woman to be sure, had somehow managed to pick his carriage out from the others, staring directly at him and probing his spirit from such a great distance. Eventually he manages to breathe, but he’s sure that she somehow sensed that she was close to injuring him. Such control, from such range! Truly whoever manages to marry her must be a true god!
“Nephew,” she says coolly as he dismounts. She turns her head slightly to the side, still frowning lightly before several servants rush off in different directions.
“Shimmering Steel, father has sent me to learn of the holdings and to bring gifts.” Golden Blade God gestures casually and prays that the guards and servants with him are smart enough to understand his intentions. “He jokes that you must have an army of managers and priests to turn everything into gold.”
“Doubtful,” Shimmering Steel says plainly.
Golden Blade God is left wrong-footed and speechless by this blatantly blunt remark. She’d made no attempt to hide her feelings, or thoughts, or give face to their family! His mother would surely not approve. Ah, but her mother died, and her father went mad, so who was there to teach her any better? He steadies his breath, admonishing himself for being so ill-prepared before gesturing with a light bow for her to lead the way.
“If you would prefer, we can begin as soon as you are ready,” he straightens, proud of himself for giving her face without being blatantly submissive. Then he sees what’s in the cage. “What on earth is that? Father said you had a gift for me, but I’m quite at a loss for what I’m receiving.”
He notes her hesitation, wondering how badly he’s shamed himself with his ignorance. Shimmering Steel twitches, closing her eyes with a sigh. When she opens her eyes, she’s even more imposing, but she’s still not destroying the surroundings with what he knows is a Dragon Realm cultivation.
“If you would like it as your Ascension Gift, surely you should name it,” she says, bowing slightly, making it look like she’s just lowering the cage so that he can get a better look at it. “It’s a mutation found in spirit woods. A Greater Wimble grub. Most adult wimbles aren’t this big with their sails fully extended.”
“Truly a rare find!” he praises her, this time careful to hide his ignorance. As far as he knows a wimble isn’t big enough to overshadow a pillow, but this thing is massive.
When Golden Blade God moves closer he notes that the giant grub is curled on its side making it bigger than he’d thought. It has a strange pucker on one end that keeps moving. When it wriggles large eyes briefly open, barely noting him before the creature goes back to sleep, making little suckling noises.
“It looks very greedy, trying to eat the air like that, but it looks like it’s kissing its food in its sleep,” Golden Blade God jokes. When Shimmering Steel snorts, eyes shining, he grins back at her. “Such a silly thing needs a silly name. Shall we call it Kissy Kissy?”
“If that is what you wish,” Shimmering Steel dips a little further before straightening. “I do not yet have the herbs and scripts for binding. This will have to wait.” She turns, careful to keep him in her sight even as she faces with her back towards him. “Let’s head to my office while this one gets checked. How long will you be staying?”
“No more than a week, I should hope,” he says, hoping to give her time to retrieve the necessary items for the strange creature. “I’d hate to impose further, but I fear it will take me time to learn how things work. Will that be enough time to gather the necessary items without imposing?”
“We should have them within the day,” she says, voice stern as always as they walk into her compound, side by side. “Were there any particular holdings that Heavenly Golden Fist wished to inquire about.”
“Mainly the most profitable and how they came to be,” Golden Blade God improvises. It seems like a good idea to start from the top. “Although I should probably learn what kind of holdings there are. Surely if there are profitable holdings, there are non-profitable holdings.”
“I’ll gather the reports,” Shimmering Steel nods to two people not in uniform. “These are your cousins, Dragon’s Resounding Roar and Shining Rays.”
“Honored cousins,” Golden Blade God raises his hands respectfully as the two just stare at him and one another in awkward confusion.
“Heavenly Golden Fist has made Golden Blade God the family heir,” Shimmering Steel informs the two older children.
The look of devastation on the girl’s face nearly breaks Golden Blade God’s heart, but he holds strong. He didn’t make himself heir, and he’d more than paid for it with the humiliation he and his mother had endured. It wasn’t his fault that Shimmering Steel was a woman, or that the acting patriarch wouldn’t give her a chance. The Golden Sun Empire was run by a woman who was merely a figurehead. Why would they wish such a thing on their own family?