“Lord Husband, is... is this position c-correct?”

No. Not even a little. Still, the sight of my voluptuous concubine posted on all fours has my heart racing and mouth dry, her head bowed, eyes closed, and arms trembling. Suppressing my inner sadist, I ignore the urge to criticize or castigate and stick to offering instructions. “Spread your knees and lower your behind.”

Knees still locked together, Luo-Luo’s plump butt drops a centimetre or two before rising higher than it was before. “Like this?”

It’s amazing how someone so gorgeous can look so awkward. “You know, this would be easier if you opened your eyes.” And could see how ridiculous you look.

Visibly flinching at the mild criticism, she whispers, “But... Luo-Luo is scared, she’s never done this or anything like it before...”

I can’t believe I gave up my nap for this. Choking back the mother of all sighs, I go against my drill sergeant instincts and try a kind and supportive tone. “Look at me.” Hazel eyes brimming with tears, Luo-Luo’s chest shudders as she fights to hold back her sobs, so wretched and terrified it makes me question my motives. Am I in the wrong here? No, I made the suggestion, but she didn’t want to wait, all but begged me to start right away. “I know this is new and different, but you can do this. There’s nothing to be afraid of. You won’t get hurt, I promise.”

She might get hurt, but if she does, she’ll have no one to blame but herself. It’s no big deal though, Taduk’s yurt is a short walk away and he’ll have her fixed in a jiffy.

“It’s just... He’s so large, it’s intimidating...”

“Yea, he’s bigger than most, but it’s not about size.” What’s that you’re trampling on? Oh, it’s just my pride, no big deal. “He has a sweet and gentle temperament, the perfect choice for your first.” It’s not like she’s some dainty little girl either, I have to look up to see the bottom of her chin. “This might be new to you, but he’s done this thousands of times before. He knows how this goes, so trust him okay?” Resisting the urge to force her legs apart, I repeat myself once more. “Now spread your knees, lower your behind, and enjoy the ride.” Noticing her white-knuckled grip, I frown and add, “Loosen your death grip, will you? He’s tender there. No need to clench or tug.”

Five minutes later, Luo-Luo still isn’t ready to go. Growing impatient, her partner scuffs his feet in protest and the movement sends her into a panic, putting us right back where we started, with her head tucked and ass up like she’s ready to dive off at a moment’s notice. Steadying her with one hand, I mutter more reassurances while Lin and the twins howl with laughter, having abandoned their plans to fly kites in favour of watching Luo-Luo’s humiliating ordeal.

When her laughter dies down to a mere giggle, Lin skips over to lend a hand, squeezing herself under Luo-Luo’s arms to join in. “Don’t be scared Luo-Luo, it’s really easy and a lot of fun, ya?” Gently straightening her back while sitting on Luo-Luo’s thighs, Lin uses her body to guide the taller woman into a proper posture, not quite sitting upright, but close enough. “Stop squeezing so hard with your calves, he doesn’t like it. Isn’t that right Mafu-fu?”

Letting loose with an aggrieved squeak, Mafu lowers his head and massages his cheeks, a sure sign of frustration if I’ve ever seen one. Utterly vexed by his clumsy new rider, my poor, sweet quin has been snarling so much his face is tired. Wrapping one arm under his chin, I pull him close for a nuzzle and silently apologize for putting him through this harrowing ordeal. A less tolerant quin would have already thrown Luo-Luo off, but Mafu is a veritable saint, though even his patience is wearing thin.

My poor, sweet, chubby floof. Upon Zabu’s return, Mafu has been relegated to backup quin because, and it pains me even to think this, Zabu is objectively a better mount. Unlike Mafu, Zabu is trained to fight and is far more confident amidst the chaos and bloodshed of battle than Mafu will ever be. Granted, Mafu did well enough during my time in Sanshu, but I mostly fought on foot because I knew he’d be unreliable. It’s not his fault, he’s a sweet, gentle quin who loves snuggles and kisses, while Zabu is anger and fury given physical form.

Okay, so I like Mafu a little more than Zabu. Who says I’m not allowed to play favourites?

Since Mafu no longer has a rider, I figured he’d be a good match for Luo-Luo, because not only does her palanquin move slowly, I feel horrible for the Death Corps soldiers forced to carry it. While I plan on getting her a rickshaw like Taduk’s so she can travel in comfort, she still has to learn how to ride. She doesn’t know how to Lighten so she’s too heavy to double up with anyone besides Lin or maybe Alsantset, which means it’s best if Luo-Luo knows how to ride on her own. Most importantly, I thought it’d help her feel more included and less isolated from the family and the Bekhai as a whole.

Fifteen minutes into our first lesson, I wholeheartedly regret everything.

Seriously, it’s not fucking rocket surgery. All she needs to do is stop screaming and sit her ass down on the quin.

Seeing Lin make actual progress with the lesson, I leave them to it and take a seat in the grass, close to but not beside Li Song. Tali and Tate bring their quins to join in on the fun, Pafu and Suret’s adolescent pups bounding about the clearing while the cackling twins cling on for dear life. The bears and wildcats also enter the fray and Mafu voices his displeasure with a piteous squeal, announcing his desire to throw Luo-Luo off to go play, but Lin signals for him to hold steady and the obedient quin stands in place. Staring at me like I abandoned him on the side of the road, Mafu’s head dips in misery as he lets out a mournful, heartbreaking squeak.

I’m so sorry Mafu. Daddy still loves you.

Wifey is a much better riding instructor than I am and soon enough, she guides Mafu out on a slow walk while keeping Luo-Luo calm with reassuring pats and smiles. The two ladies make for an odd-looking pair, but they’re becoming fast friends, which isn’t exactly a surprise. Lin gets along with everyone, a bright, cheery, lovably young woman who can make even the surliest of grumps Guan Suo crack a half-smile. So vibrant and full of life, my wifey’s appearance never fails to brighten my day and I don’t know what I’d do without her.

In comparison, every time I see Luo-Luo, my mood goes into a nosedive. I’ll admit she’s easy on the eyes, but looks aren’t everything. I have never met anyone so smart, yet so inept. It took her less than five minutes to learn the number system but she still needs help changing her clothes. She’s wearing a wide-sleeved blouse and loose, flared pants, what could she have possibly needed help with and why did it take so long? Does she have to stitch herself into the clothes or something?

Maybe I’m not being fair, but I can’t see her as anything besides a pampered, spoiled, grown-ass brat. Sure, she plays music and reads poetry or whatever, but what use is any of that? Can she defend herself from bandits with a song, or convince the Defiled to leave with a poem? Even Lin, spoiled as she is, has the skills to survive on her own, but if I left Luo-Luo alone for a full day, I’d probably find her cold, lifeless corpse lying right where I left her.

Don’t get me wrong, I love pampering Lin and Mila, but that’s because it feels good knowing my capable, industrious brides-to-be rely on me for certain things. Mila works hard at the forge and harder in training each and every day, giving her all in the pursuit of the Martial Path, and while it might look like Lin spends her days sleeping in and playing around, she’s a young Healer in the making and often spends hours with Taduk teaching my soldiers how to treat injuries in the field.

Then again, seeing how relaxed and happy Luo-Luo is while riding double with Lin, I might be the problem in our newfangled relationship. Maybe I’m being too hard on Luo-Luo, antagonistic because I’ve been forced to accommodate her during a difficult period of life, or because she’s so damn tall I feel embarrassed standing beside her. Whatever the reason, I haven’t given her a fair chance, labelling her as a scheming and manipulative woman just because she wanted to show her best side and was eager to please the man who, in her eyes, would control her entire life. She’s a product of her upbringing, raised in luxury and trained to see herself as an accessory and baby maker instead of an actual person, so she needs time to get over that mindset and discover who she really is. I can’t write her off as entitled and worthless solely because she’s used to having maids or is utterly terrified of quins.

No matter how much I want to...

Ambling over to greet me with a stream of happy grunts, Banjo and Baloo barrel into my arms and force me to confront the whole truth. It’s not something I care to dwell on, but in the interest of mental health, I think it’s time to come clean.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

I don’t like Luo-Luo because she reminds me of Qing-Qing.

It’s stupid and illogical. They couldn’t be more different. Aside from their girlish naming convention and black hair, the only other similarity they share is a beauty mark beneath one eye. It’s not even the same eye, but it’s enough to dredge up old memories I’d much rather forget. Memories of diligent, hardworking, salt-of-the-earth Qing-Qing, who despite having almost nothing to her name, took in an injured stranger and refused to let him die. She spent weeks tending to my injuries, cleaning my soiled bedding, and sharing what little food she could scavenge, only to earn the scorn of her fellow villagers. Then, after I woke up, I complained about the food, called her village a shit-hole, and furthered the divide between her and her people because I wanted to rescue this ‘poor village girl’ and bring her away as my wife.

Kind, beautiful Ai Qing, humming her mournful melody while doing needlework by moonlight, so serene and angelic in her coarse, faded clothes...

Qing-Qing spent weeks nursing me back to health, but after revealing most of the people she knew and grew up with were probably dead, I couldn’t take two minutes to comfort her. I was too engrossed in my own delusions, too busy pretending to be someone I wasn’t to properly think things through. I can’t blame her for not trusting me and wanting to see things for herself, and I still could have saved her if I hadn’t been so busy toying with Gen. In the end, she died at the hands of the Demon Bei, but my actions led her there. Causing Qing-Qing's death is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done and I will never forgive myself.

Never.

On that bright note, I close my eyes and reach for Balance, but it’s kept just out of reach by sorrow and self-loathing. Giving up with a defeated sigh, I grab Baloo and pull him into my lap, knowing jealous Banjo will amble around and lean against my back, resting his big head on my shoulder as a cry for attention. It’s hard to be sad when you’re the filling of a cuddle bear sandwich, but this is a temporary solution, and not because the bears will soon grow too big to manhandle. Whether it’s bears, bunnies, birds, quins, or kittens, eventually I’ll have to stop hiding and face my problems.

Emotional implications aside, there are other questions which need to be asked and answered regarding my mental instability. Seeing as how I’m not a Spiritual parasite sent here from another world to devour this body’s original inhabitant, what’s up with Baledagh’s ‘memories’ of life before the mines? They were never anything concrete like a name or a face, just jumbled emotions and faint recollections of specific sensations. Darkness, cold, hunger, and exhaustion mostly. Pain too, but not the pain of torture or abuse, just general physical suffering. Cuts on my feet, abrasions on my skin, and bruises all over, yet the strange thing is, it was just... there. A part of life, so it seemed, background noise not to be concerned with. A harsh life for a kid, but are these genuine memories or did I falsify them to make Baledagh’s origin story seem more real?

Brain, why you do this?

“Hi hubby!” Lin’s enthusiastic greeting shakes me from my thoughts, her toothy grin and frantic waving so endearing as she slowly approaches while riding tandem with Luo-Luo. My chubby quin’s mood is much improved as he saunters over one careful step at a time, his head and tail swinging out in opposite directions with each stride. Red-faced with shame, Luo-Luo offers a shy nod while attempting to hide behind Lin. Smiling through the pain and regret, I tell myself Luo-Luo is not trying to replace Qing-Qing, nor does her existence somehow invalidate my first true love.

It doesn’t make it hurt any less, but I can’t hold Luo-Luo responsible for my mistakes.

Lin’s toothy grin turns into a devilish smirk and a split second later, Mafu explodes into a run. Luo-Luo’s terrified shriek trails off as he zips around the clearing at full speed, ecstatic to finally have permission to cut loose. On his third time around, I finally manage to pull out a handful of dried fish and the greedy quin slows down to avail himself to the treats. Her blouse soaked in cold sweat, Luo-Luo dislodges herself from the harness and stumbles to the ground, panting in breathless fear as she clutches the grass, ready to fight tooth and nail if someone tries to put her back on the quin. Hiding my smile, I shake my head and admonish, “Wifey, that wasn’t very nice.”

Blinking in the perfect picture of innocence, Lin shakes her head and says, “No hubby, you don’t understand. I did this to help Luo-Luo get over her fear, ya? Now that she’s experienced Mafu’s speed and survived, she doesn’t hafta worry anymore, right Luo-Luo?”

Giving the wide-eyed Luo-Luo a cursory glance, I reckon she would disagree. “I don’t think she heard you wifey.” I hope Lin didn’t scare the literal piss out of her. One bathroom incident was bad enough, I doubt poor Luo-Luo’s sanity would survive a second. Gesturing with her hands, Lin urges me to comfort her before riding off with Mafu once more, this time bringing the twins, pets, and Li Song away and leaving me alone with my possibly incontinent concubine.

Thankfully, there was no accident to clean up. Using a lot gentle coaxing and a little forceful pushing, I bring Luo-Luo back to camp and into my yurt for tea. It’s not that I particularly enjoy being alone with her and suffering through her clumsy attempts at seduction, but the quin pups think the bunnies are their little cousins, so they’re all curled up together in the rabbit enclosure. To protect them, Zabu and Shana have claimed the area around the enclosure and guard it fiercely while Mama Bun grooms her five new, oversized babies. This wouldn’t normally be a problem except overprotective papa Zabu still thinks Luo-Luo is an intruder trying to steal his babies, and considering her recent trauma, I thought it’d be best to keep them separate.

I don’t know why, but animals do not like Luo-Luo. The bunnies scream and run away, the bears stand and growl, while friendly, lovable Aurie likes to bat at her ankles. Maybe she smells funny or something, but whatever it is, having her around puts a real damper on my floof-loving lifestyle.

Taking her warm cup of tea in both hands, Luo-Luo sips it with a faraway look, like a soldier who just survived her first battle. A tad melodramatic, but I’ll let it slide. After giving her enough time to recover, I pull out a sheaf of papers detailing the camps daily expenses and explain each section, hoping she’ll settle into her role as my financial advisor sooner rather than later. I hate dealing with this stuff and she’s a smart girl, but I’m not entirely trusting enough to hand over full control of my hard earned wealth to someone I met a handful of days ago. What if she spends all my coin on another banquet or a new dress? How will I eat if I have no money? As much as I like poking fun at her pampered lifestyle, I’d rather die than go back to eating brown mush twice a day.

Back in her element, Luo-Luo’s mood rapidly improves as we go over my finances. She offers no suggestions and doesn’t try to change things, which I see as a good thing. If she wanted to make rapid-fire alteration before understanding the whole operation, I’d know she was full of shit, figuratively speaking.

It’ll take a week to replenish what she lost during our tandem toilet session.

“Lord Husband is smiling.” Beaming in delight, Luo-Luo fills my cup, then her own, before asking, “Would he care to share his thoughts?”

He would, but he doesn’t want you to burst into tears again. “Err... No, I’m okay.” Grasping for a topic to fill the now-awkward silence, I ask, “So...What haven’t you told me about the Legate?”

Choking on her tea, Luo-Luo coughs and sputters to clear her throat, a most suspicious reaction to my probing question. Once recovered, she tries play if off and asks, “Whatever do you mean?”

“C’mon. You told me not to trust him, because no Imperial does anything without an agenda, and I quote, ‘much less one with a title formidable as Shen Zhenwu’. Sounds innocuous enough, but I’m thinking there’s more to the Legate than you’ve let on.” I was too distracted with Inky to notice at first, but after sleeping on it (twice) and deliberating her choice of words (for a very, very, long time), I asked Taduk about it and he said I should ask Luo-Luo.

So... here we are.

Deliberately placing her teacup aside, Luo-Luo folds her hands on the table and leans forward so we’re eye to eye. Quashing my irritation, I study her expression as she carefully answers my question. “Luo-Luo apologizes, but she has nothing to say regarding Lord Husband’s Patron or his identity.” Giving me a knowing look, she adds, “But we, as a people, venerate strength, so a title like ‘True Warrior’ would not be given lightly.”

With nothing else to add, Luo-Luo excuses herself to prepare for our cast iron business meeting/dinner with the Yo family, while I settle down for a nap and carefully consider her warning. If she didn’t know anything about the Legate, she wouldn’t have to answer in such a roundabout way, which means...she knows something, but can’t say it, right?

I also noticed she never calls him the Legate, always referring to him as my Patron or Shen Zhenwu. This seems important because she’s incredibly particular about titles. Even though I asked her not to, she still calls me Lord Husband, so from her perspective, Legate is too humble a title for Shen Zhenwu. He’s a bigwig, but what I want to know is: how big is he really?

...

That didn’t come out right...

As for the last bit, she brought it up before, but I chalked it up to standard noble conceit. I guess the Legate’s Martial skills are the real deal, which means his concerns regarding my ‘diminished’ Natal Palace are more serious than I thought. What benefit does a bigger Natal Palace bring? How does one even measure a Natal Palace? I mean, technically, it’s a mental construct, so its size is hardly stable. When Baledagh was around, it went from palm-sized to village-sized in the blink of an eye, because I liked to pretend we each had our own separate spaces. Then again, it’s not like it was village-sized to begin with. When I first formed my Natal Palace, it was no bigger than my bedroom, while the rest of the manor had to be manually created each time I popped in.

It was a... hardware issue, I guess. I had the RAM to create the manor, but only enough hard-drive space for a single room. Every time I left, the system would reset and wipe the RAM. Afterwards, my Natal Palace would revert to a one-room construct, because that’s all I had saved on the hard drive. Leaving Baledagh ‘in’ there kept the system from resetting and wiping everything, but I’d rather not create another personality unless absolutely necessary. Then again, who knows. Maybe I have enough space on my hard drive to save the entire province now, who knows.

...What the fuck is RAM and why does it wipe on reset? I swear, I remember the most useless things...

At the time, I didn’t even know I had a Natal Palace or what that was. I thought of it as my happy place, a memory I used to calm and centre myself. I only built the place up because I enjoyed looking at the scenery and reflecting on happier times. How long did it take to piece together? A year? Two? More? Less? I can’t remember, but half a year minimum, and I didn’t notice a change in strength, at least not anything I can attribute to a bigger mental playground. Maybe it’s not about the size itself, but a larger Natal Palace means you’re better at multi-tasking, which means you’re better at using multiple Chi skills at once.

Bah. This is all guesswork, especially since I can’t pop in to test things out. Taduk didn’t have any answers and I haven’t asked anyone else, but it doesn’t matter. I see no reason why bigger is better and there’s no shame in having a perfectly average sized Natal Palace, no shame at all.

...Not that I have a small Natal Palace or anything. I’m a grow-er, not a show-er. The shrinkage is temporary. Shut up. Why do I have to defend the size of my Natal Palace anyways? The Legate should mind his own business and quit peeping. ‘Divine True Warrior’ my ass. More like Divine True Pervert. Disgusting.

Whatever. Does it really matter? I should focus on more important things, like finding Balance and Blobby.

As if summoned by the thought, Taduk lets himself in without knocking. “Rain my boy, I’ve decided. We’ll give the octopus his stone. Come, come, we mustn’t tarry.” Finally noticing I’m tucked into bed, Taduk places his hand atop my forehead and asks, “Are you feeling all right, my boy? It’s not like you to nap.”

Yea, well, depression is real exhausting. “I’m fine, Teacher. Thanks. Let’s go see an octopus about some Algae.”

I could really use a win right now, especially if it’s Blobby back in my corner. At least then I don’t have to worry about going full-Defiled.

... I wonder what the Legate’s doing about the Canston Trading Group winery?

Chapter Meme