“Wow. What a crazy night. Oddly enough, not the worst wedding banquet I’ve attended. At least the food was good, am I right?”

My dry wit goes wholly unappreciated as my guests sit in shocked silence, staring at me like I’ve sprouted a second head. I feel kinda bad for making them sit around while I ate, but in my defence, I forgot about them in all the excitement of almost dying and subsequent impromptu surgery. I suppose I could’ve also put on clean pants and maybe even a shirt before addressing them, but I’m too tired to walk and I’ve learned my lesson about changing in public. Coughing to clear my throat, I clasp my hands and incline my head, following Yuzhen’s instructions to not bow or apologize. “This has been a lovely evening in honour of my concubine Zheng Luo, but sadly all good things must end. Thankfully, tonight’s banquet must also end.”

...

Proverbial crickets and dust bunnies. C’mon, that deserved a chuckle or at least a smile. I’d also accept a tiny forceful exhale, not exactly a snort, but almost. Maybe they’re still miffed at being held prisoner on suspicion of murder. Yea that’s probably it. There’s no other explanation. I’m hilarious. Glancing at Yuzhen for help, she shrugs and Sends, “Tell them they can leave, but be polite about it.”

...How? God dammit, I’m too tired for this diplomatic bullshit. “Thank you all for coming. Goodbye now.” Noticing their wary glances directed at the Death Corps, I wise up and add, “Err, Death Corps, take five.” My armoured slave soldiers shift ever so slightly, but continue holding their weapons at the ready, unsure what my command means. “Uh... at ease?” That does the trick, and as one, the Death Corps stamp their left foot down and plant the butt of their spears against the ground, standing with backs straight, head high, heels together, and about as far from relaxed as a person could be.

Whatever. We’ll work on it.

Once the issue the Death Corps is settled, the guests accept my dismissal with grace and aplomb. A good half of them even queue up to bid me farewell, starting with the unaffiliated bigwigs like Marshal Yo Jeong-Hun and two Major Generals whose names I’ve forgotten. They all end with the same phrase, some variation of ‘No need to see me off”, which is great because I didn’t intend to. It’s all I can do to stand in place, smiling down at my guests from the stage. I’d go down to be polite, but I’ve embarrassed myself enough today, what with almost dying and whatnot. No need to add ‘face-plant off the stage’ to my list of accomplishments.

...I can’t believe I asked my poisoner for a bigger cup of poisoned tea. Or thought I had the flu. Martial Warriors don’t get the flu. Get your head in the game, this is no time to be slacking off.

It takes the better part of half an hour to get rid of all the unwanted guests, leaving only my family, closest allies, and two hundred something slave soldiers with me in the courtyard. Even the servants and Sentinels are gone, having all been dismissed so we can chat in private. Gratefully collapsing to the ground, I smile as Mila settles down beside me, resting my head against her arm. Giving her freckled shoulder a light kiss, I Send, “I love your dress. So bold and provocative, what with those bared, enticing thighs of yours. What say we find a private room and go break my hand?”

“Incorrigible pervert.” Cheeks flushed from embarrassment, Mila tugs at her skirt in a futile effort at modesty. “Pay attention, this is serious. You almost died.”

“Okay. Later though?”

“No. Hush now.”

Disappointing, but probably for the best. I mean, this is technically my wedding night with another woman, though I don’t intend to consummate it. Luo-Luo is gorgeous and all, but I love Lin and Mila. And Yan too, though I’m still not sure what to do about her. Either way, I have no room for a fourth woman in my heart, especially not a stranger I don’t entirely trust. It doesn’t matter how beautiful she is or how perfect her skin looks, or how enormous, soft, and bouncy her breasts are...

There’s something profoundly disturbing about my psyche. Nothing turns me on more than a close brush with death. Tonight’s events better not awaken anything in me, the last thing I need is an auto-erotic asphyxiation fetish, or worse, self-mutilation.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, I listen in as Akanai, Baatar, Yuzhen and Nian Zu discuss their findings. According to Fu Zhu Li, who should add ‘lead detective’ to his list of job titles, my poisoner was found dead, ironically of poison. A different poison, a fast acting one which turned his lips blue and irises yellow. Hmm... is it ironic if a poisoner dies of poison, or is it merely poetic? Anyways, the servant (whose name escapes me) worked for Nan Ping’s Magistrate (whose name I never asked for) for close to a decade. This doesn’t mean the Magistrate was behind the attack, and if it were up to me, I’d remove him from the list of suspects altogether. If the Magistrate wanted me dead, he wouldn’t be dumb enough to use his own servant to do the deed. No, more likely, someone’s trying to implicate the Magistrate in all this. Unless that’s what the Magistrate wants me to think so he used his own servant, because he knows I’ll think someone’s trying to implicate him and therefore eliminate him from my pool of suspects...

Detective work is complicated...

Either way, everyone agrees that servants are easily bought and my poisoner’s death all but screams cat’s paw. He undoubtedly had accomplices, because it’s unlikely he pricked himself on the arm with a poisoned needle, got rid of said needle, then broke his legs and spine stuffing himself into a chest before dying. No eyewitnesses have stepped forward to point fingers, but Fu Zhu Li says he’s confident someone or something will turn up soon. He’s still wearing the same clothes from earlier this evening and they’re squeaky clean, so I’m sure his interrogations were of the non-torturing variety.

So far.

“Um... How about we offer a reward?” My first contribution to the meeting earns me a round of blank stares, and I can see them wondering if I’ve suffered brain damage from lack of oxygen. Undeterred, I press on. “You know... gold for information which leads to the identification and/or capture of the poisoner’s collaborators.” Instead of torturing poor, probably innocent servants. Fu Zhu Li seems like a nice guy and is super humble and helpful, but I can’t feel comfortable around a man with his particular set of skills. To a hammer, all problems are nails, so for a torturer...

After a short, uncomfortable silence, Yuzhen answers, “We can consider it.” Glancing at Baatar, they come to a silent agreement. “The Legate awaits, but you cannot meet with him like this. Your people have arranged for fresh clothes and a hot bath inside, so go clean up and then I’ll brief you on what to say.”

Fucking hell. I get poisoned, gutted, and Healed, but the Legate still can’t be bothered to come see me. No, I have to go to him. Ridiculous. “Sounds good.”

Unfortunately, taking a bath is easier said than done as Ping-Ping objects to my departure, squeaking up a storm the moment I disappear backstage. Stupid turtle, she doesn’t care if I choke to death, but the moment I leave her sight, the world’s coming to an end. Bet she’d eat my corpse if I died too, she seems like the type. My wildcats and bears aren’t any better, I doubt they even noticed when I collapsed on stage, their attention focused on what used to be a neatly stacked pyramid of food, but is now just a sprawling mess of raw meat, pulped fruit, and half-chewed vegetables.

...Whose idea was it to leave a giant pile of food for them? Their clothes are probably so dirty, it’ll take hours to scrub them all clean...

I’ll forgive Aurie since he appears to be in a literal food coma, sprawled out on his back with all four feet pointing skywards. As for my other pets, they’re all heartless. Banjo and Baloo are still munching away, while Jimjam and Sarankho are busy batting cabbages and bitter melons around like toys. Roc and the rest are long gone, having left soon after filling their tiny bird bellies to fly home for the night, which leaves little Blackjack, who’s sleeping soundly in Taduk’s embrace. Soured by the lack of love and concern from my fur babies, I grumble myself to sleep in the crook of Ping-Ping’s arm while Mila sorts things out. It feels like I’ve only just closed my eyes when Lin wakes me again, looking adorable in her tasteful blue dress and sapphire encrusted... hair net. Such a weird fashion accessory, jewelled hair nets. “Hubby,” she says, frowning as she tries to pull me onto my feet. “I know you’re tired, but you stink, ya? Bath-time first, then you can rest in Luo-Luo’s palanquin.”

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Okay wifey.” Smiling at her adorably futile attempts, I let her struggle a little longer before standing on my own. Skipping away as I open my arms for a hug and physical support, she flashes her toothy grin and shoos me over to Mila. Confused by Lin’s atypical behaviour, I put it out of mind while taking a moment to appreciate Mila’s lovely figure, from her lovely, rounded shoulders to her pale, shapely calves, all on display in her racy and erotic outfit. Belatedly noticing the red-brown stain on her lovely skirt, I realize why Lin refused my earlier advances: because I’m covered in blood. My intestinal blood, to be precise, which shouldn’t be any different from the rest of my blood, but just feels ickier. “Sorry about your skirt beloved,” I say, refusing her support so I don’t stain it even worse. “You should soak it in water before the blood sets in.” Like my bath water.

“Hmph. Nice try, but you have to work harder if you want to get my skirt off.” Roughly pulling my arm around her, she half carries and half drags me alongside her. “No need to make a fuss, it’s just blood,” she says, more for the benefit of the people within earshot. Though it’s barely two dozen steps, there’s sweat on my brow by the time we reach the wooden dividers and the steaming hot bath hidden behind them, my body weakened by the trauma and rapid Healing it so recently endured. Even though everything is back where it belongs, there’s still a faint memory of pain lingering about my abdomen, as if the nerves there have yet to realize everything has been put back in its place.

Stretching her leathery neck, Ping-Ping’s fearsome face peers over the wooden dividers to inspect the area and make sure no shenanigans are taking place right under her beak. Eyes widening in delight as she spots the steaming hot bathtub, she squeaks with joy, convinced I mean to meditate in it so she has more than a mouthful to drink. I still don’t understand what she loves about the water I practice with, but this is a good chance to figure out if she’s here because of me or Blobby. With Ping-Ping eagerly watching from overhead, I turn to Mila and wait for her to leave. Crossing her arms with a smirk, she plants her feet and asks, “Well? What are you waiting for? I hope you don’t expect me to take off your pants too.”

“Course not.” Turning my back to her, I shimmy out of my blood-encrusted pants while wiggling my pale butt. If she wants a show, I’ll give her a show. Half turning to face her, I strike a pose with one hand covering my nether regions and the other covering my nipples, pretending like I’m some virtuous maiden shocked to discover a peeping tom here with me. As Mila’s eyes close with muted laughter, I slip into the steam hot water and rest my hands and chin on the tub’s edge, watching for her reaction.

Disappointed and amused, Mila rolls her eyes and snorts. “How stingy. I was going to help wash your back, but you seem energetic enough.”

Watching her stomp away, I lament the missed opportunity and set to scrubbing the blood off my stomach and legs. I should’ve let her look, it’s not like she’s never seen me naked before. The Bekhai care little for modesty with their mixed bathing and whatnot, but I’m a man. If there’s ogling to be done, it’ll be done by me.

By the time I’m done scrubbing, the bathwater has taken on a pinkish hue and Ping-Ping has long lost interest, returning to her meal while she waits for me to finish preparing her dessert. Settling back to stare at the starry night sky, I let the warm water ease the tension in my muscles and wash away the phantom pain, musing over random thoughts while channelling my Chi into the water. Surgery without anaesthesia is highly unpleasant, something I should’ve considered before suggesting Taduk cut me open. Thankfully, I didn’t embarrass myself in front of all my guests by screaming like a girl and pissing my pants, instead passing out the moment Taduk stuck his hand inside my body. Yuck. I hope I didn’t make a stupid face or anything, but even if I did, only the people on stage could’ve seen, right?

No, wait. Martial Warriors can scry with Chi. Fuck.

Brilliant as my teacher is, I’m surprised he overlooked such a simple solution to my poisoning problem. It presents an interesting issue which I’ve never considered before. Chi isn’t all powerful and it can’t fix everything. All Healing does is restore the body to its previous condition, but the ‘base’ condition changes over time, like an automatically updating save state of sorts. Lose an arm? No problem, an easy fix unless the stump heals over on its own. Though it may take weeks to get to this point, eventually, at some seemingly arbitrary point which changes for each person, even if you chop the stump off and try to regrow the limb, it’ll end up as a stump again and not even the greatest Healers could fix it. It’s the same thing with warts, skin tags, melanomas, and other irregularities though Martial Warriors appear to be immune to such ailments. At some point, those irregularities just become ‘normalized’ to your body, and no amount of Healing will get rid of them.

Now that I think about it, there are plenty of things Chi can’t fix which could be handled with the proper application of mundane tools. Maybe I should put together another book, an easy, do it yourself health care guide. Simple things like dealing with ingrown nails or proper treatment of wounds and abscess. I bet basic sanitation practices could save countless lives each year. The one percent don’t really have to worry about germs or bacteria, but the rest of the population does. It doesn’t have to be world shattering, just things like don’t chop raw meat and vegetables with the same cutting board, or wash your hands before you eat. My first book already has easy to make soap, so it’s just a matter of getting people to use it before every meal.

And maybe, just maybe, if I save enough people, I’ll stop having nightmares about the ones I killed.

I doubt it, but who knows.

Someone knocks on the wooden divider and I answer without thinking. “Come in.”

A second later, Fung barks with laughter while BoShui, Zian, and Jing Fei turn away, as if they’re surprised to find me naked in a tub of water. “You know,” Fung begins, “Most people would cover themselves up before inviting guests in.”

Unashamed, I shrug and reply, “I’m taking a bath. If you weren’t prepared to see me naked, then you should’ve waited till I was done.”

“We would, but Father says its time we retire and leave you to enjoy your new concubine.” Pointedly glancing at my crotch, Fung feigns sympathy and pats me on the shoulder. “It’s okay. You have a wonderful personality.”

“Excuse me, my eyes are up here. I know it’s impressive, but staring is impolite. I’ll forgive you this once because I know you’re jealous.”

“Indeed I am, but only of your luck. Not only does Zheng Luo bestow you with such an enviable title, but the woman herself is a city-destroying beauty possessed of steely resolve. You should have seen it, that beautiful goddess browbeating your guests into submission with but a few words to the Death Corps. Oh, the looks on their faces is a memory I’ll treasure for the rest of my days, not to mention your concubine’s noble and dignified bearing. Difficult to pull off in a dress like hers, but she did it without batting an eye.”

His stupid joke about my title aside, Fung’s assessment leaves me with mixed feelings, considering this is yet another new side to Luo-Luo. In the (admittedly short) time we’ve spent together, I’ve seen her pretend to be friendly, charismatic, meek, dutiful, pitiful, and seductive at different times, but I’ve yet to see anything genuine from her. She only shows what she thinks other people want to see, and this ‘noble bearing’ might be yet another act. She’s like an onion, with too many layers of deception surrounding who she really is. Maybe I should see if she wants to marry Fung. He seems to like her and I doubt she’d enjoy a simple life in the mountains. One week of washing her own clothes and drawing her own bath, and she’ll probably run to Shen Huo if I made the suggestion.

It’s feels strange to seriously consider gifting a human being to another person...

After Fung and BoShui say their farewells and set off, Zian and Jing Fei stick around, their backs turned while I splash around in the tub to fill the awkward silence. After what feels like an eternity, I finally ask, “So... did you have something you wanted to talk about?”

Jing Fei answers for the both of them. “No.”

“...Then why are you still here?”

Turning around to flash me a murderous glare, Jing Fei snarls in fury. “Because we’re waiting for you to ask.”

She’s super hot when she’s angry. She reminds me of a snake, so lithe and relaxed, yet ready to strike without warning. But a snake with large, perky breasts and luscious red lips...“Ask what?”

“If I was the one who poisoned you.” Crossing her arms, she puffs out her chest and tilts her nose to the sky, which does... interesting things to her boobs. “I didn’t, just so you know. If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be here exposing yourself to a fair maiden like some vulgar old man.”

“Ah. I see... Well... Thanks for clearing things up.”

“That’s it?” Grabbing the side of my tub, Jing Fei looms in what she thinks is a threatening manner, but offers me a wonderful view of her pale, perky breasts. “You don’t even want an Oath? You think so little of me, you didn’t even consider I might have poisoned you?”

Flipping over to hide my junk before it periscopes out to say hello, I shrug and answer, “Well truth be told, the thought crossed my mind once or twice, but I trust Zian.” Though not his mom or Jing Fei. Why are beautiful women so hard to trust? And why am I so turned on by it? “Besides, Zian just asked for my help this afternoon, so it’d be silly to have me killed. If I die, Baatar and Akanai would no longer have any reason to shelter him.”

Once again, it’s blank stares all around. Self-conscious of their disbelief, I duck underwater to give my hair a good scrub, thankful I did once I find some crusted blood on the back of my head. Jebus, how much blood did I lose? When I emerge from the water, I find Zian and Jing Fei have been replaced by Gerel and Yuzhen, neither one looking pleased with my antics. “You...” Yuzhen starts, her hands moving to pinch my cheeks but stopping mid-way. “You were right to hide your new status as an Imperial Consort, but did you have to keep it from us too?”

Does no one care for the sanctity of the bath tub anymore? Why are these dividers even here? Might as well throw them all away and charge admission. “I wasn’t hiding it, not exactly. Hand me the towel please?” Might as well get out, water’s getting cold and I’m too irked to keep meditating. The brisk night air has me shivering seconds after getting out of the tub, my scrawny frame completely lacking in fat to insulate me from the cold.

Wrapping the towel around my shoulders in an intimate and uncomfortable show of affection, Gerel asks, “Then why hide it from Yuzhen?”

“The truth?” With a sheepish shrug, I continue drying myself off and confess, “I don’t like how it sounds.” Getting sick of all the blank stares, I continue explaining and hope they’ll understand my logic. “‘Imperial Consort’ makes me sound like I’m someone’s kept man, a pet and plaything for a powerful woman. It’s emasculating, so I kept quiet about it.” Wait. “How’d you know I’m an Imperial Consort? Who let the cat out of the bag?”

Exchanging glances and sighs, their displeasure and disappointment is evident. Shaking her head, Yuzhen asks, “Rain... no one put your cats in bags. Moving on, do you understand what the title means? What benefits being an Imperial Consort provides?”

Ugh, it’s so frustrating when my idioms don’t translate well, it makes me sound like a gibbering buffoon. “Yea, I’m not an idiot. That’s the first thing I asked.” Shit... What was it Mila said again? “It means I’m of Imperial Peerage without being beholden to Imperial politics. Big deal. That plus two coppers buys me a grilled skewer from the market. Maybe not even, they probably raised the prices, right?”

“I can’t do this. Educate him, please.” Throwing her hands up, Yuzhen stalks away in a huff, leaving me naked and alone with Gerel.

Handing me my new pants, Gerel chuckles and shakes his head. “No matter, Rain,” he says with a hard smack on my back. “A warrior needs nothing but the sword in his hand and the courage to wield it. Leave politics to the politicians, yes? Besides, with your new status, there’s not a person in North, South, or Central who would dare act on past grievances, much less complain about your manners. You’ve ascended to lofty heights, a long way since we found you lost and scared in...Why is the turtle drinking your bathwater?”

Well that’s one mystery solved, but something tells me there’s more to this Imperial Consort business than I thought.

...

I think it’s time to face facts: I may actually be an idiot.

Chapter Meme