Awash in the orange-red glow of the setting sun, the ruins of Sinuji struck a delicate balance between silent serenity and haunting dread. A calm stillness had settled over the once bustling border town, now nothing more than a pile of cracked stones and crumbling timbers as far as the eye could see. So deceptively peaceful until Chen Hongji spent his Chi to Scry his surroundings from above, peering into those blocked areas his soldiers had yet to clear. Despite an entire week's worth of effort, there were still a multitude of rotting corpses scattered about the debris, and to his trained eyes, each body told a story which he’d foolishly read into whenever he found time to spare. He’d done so with noble intentions, thinking to publish a book of poems and couplets commemorating these poor fallen souls, so that those lost to this tragedy might be remembered in the years to come. The more he looked, however, the more he hungered to burn everything to the ground, for what happened in Sinuji was not a story the Emperor would want told.

When the Legate declared the Defiled had attacked Sinuji and executed all its inhabitants, Hongji had burned with righteous fury. When he’d been appointed the honour of command on the front lines, he’d swelled with pride. When he marched into the ruins, he ached to take the fight to the Enemy and mete out justice for the dead, but now, after less than a month in the field, he prayed for a chance to relinquish his hard-earned rank of Colonel and make the long journey home as a civilian, where he would say nothing and hold his wife and three children close.

Whether it be the coolies laid out beside the goods they hauled, the rickshaw runners slumped over the handles of their vehicles, or the trade workers fallen with tools in hand, every story shared one thing in common. Whatever disaster befell Sinuji, death came to its inhabitants in an instant. This was not the work of a Defiled horde as the Legate would have the people believe, for if it were Defiled, the people would have died with weapons in hand or huddled with their families, not mid-work without a care in the world. In Hongji’s admittedly limited experience, only an Ancestral Beast or Divinity could cause such widespread destruction, and if such peak existences had taken the stage, then he understood the dire need for secrecy and deception.

When Gods stride out to meet in battle,

Heaven and Earth are torn asunder,

and Mortals can do naught but suffer.

A sad little poem he’d only just composed, but undeniably true. There was nothing to be gained and everything to lose from revealing what really happened in Sinuji, for who would remain to fight if they knew what fate awaited them? Even Peak Experts were helpless to act when faced with a Divinity, mere ants to be squashed with barely an effort. Common soldiers were even less and Hongji felt no shame in admitting this task unnerved him. With a self-deprecating sneer, he remembered how foolishly proud he’d been to accept this honour, to stand on the front lines and draw first blood against the Defiled. The task should not have fallen to him and he’d been too excited to think twice about it, but now he understood why he’d been chosen.

Though a Colonel’s rank was not to be taken lightly, Hongji knew his limits. Born of an impoverished family in a nameless village, greatness was not in his blood, and he accepted this. While he accomplished much through blood, sweat, and effort, he would never match the likes of Shuai Jiao, Mitsue Juichi, or Ryo Dae Jung. Hell, if anyone besides his family and friends mourned him on the anniversary of his death, then Hongji would count it as a life well spent, but even this small dream was unlikely to pass. Why then, had he been picked to oversee such a vital area on the front lines? Why had this honour been granted to him, a soldier with a few minor accomplishments and no ties to nobility?

Because he was the highest-ranked fool willing to accept it.

Such was life, trials and tribulation without end. However, no matter what difficulties one faced, the Mother always left a path to salvation, so Hongji sought to turn disaster into fortune. True, a battle between Divinities might break out at any moment and end his life, but it hadn’t happened yet. Until such a time, he would do his best and strive to make a name for himself, so that in the unlikely event the Mother smiled upon him and he survived this ordeal, he would rise from the ashes and soar into the Heavens, where cranes and tigers mingled with dragons and phoenixes.

Of course, this was easier said than done. While he wouldn’t call them the dregs of the Imperial Army, the soldiers under Hongji’s command were largely comprised of callow youths or veteran grunts. Wide-eyed juveniles at least possessed potential, but those ancient warriors who languished at the bottom ranks for decades were rather difficult to deal with. Shrewd survivors one and all, what they lacked in ambition, they more than made up for in cunning, and while they had yet to piece together the whole truth like Hongji had, more than one had spotted the holes in the Legate’s story.

There was nothing Hongji could do but keep them busy, and luckily, the Enemy obliged. Wave after wave of howling Defiled came at his forces camped around the ruins of Sinuji. Each time his soldiers threw them back, but before long, the Defiled would regroup and come again in greater numbers than before. His soldiers held the centre, so if the Defiled broke through here, then the front line would collapse. Failure was not an option, but despite killing more than they lost, Hongji’s forces dwindled with each passing battle while the Defiled numbers grew in size.

The Enemy was numerous, and without the Walls to hold them back, the Empire was fighting a losing war.

Though once grateful for whatever aid was sent his way, Hongji’s appreciation soured soon after meeting them. Most of his reinforcements came in one of two flavours. The first group were what he called the spares, those scions of ignorant merchants or spare heirs of noble houses. These fops and dandies were only here so they could boast they served on the front lines, bringing their caravans of servants and courtesans to strain Hongji’s supplies while expecting his soldiers to keep them safe no matter the cost. Useless as these surplus toy soldiers were, it pained him to admit they were actually the more desirable bunch, far better than the second group.

The more problematic of his reinforcements were the hot-blooded glory hounds. Hongji expected many of them knew the truth of Sinuji’s downfall, yet they were still brave or foolhardy enough to come. Each one bore a name he’d heard in passing, such as current and former members of the Hwarang like Tam Taewoong, Wu Gam, and Du Min Yan, or formidable talents from the outer provinces like Dienne Huong, Situ Jia Zian, and Han BoShui. There were others whose names were less resounding, but they all shared the same thirst for fame and prestige, which made them dangerous and difficult to deal with.

At least the spares could be kept in line with threats of actual service and otherwise ignored. In comparison, these grandstanding peacocks were too eager to serve, roaming out of their patrol zones and crossing battle lines to chase errant Defiled bands. More than once, these headstrong young talents overreached and found themselves in dire straits, forcing Hongji to muster his forces to save their ungrateful behinds. A handful of them earned glory for themselves, like Du Min Yan slaughtering an Enemy force three times her size, but so what? Was he supposed to be impressed? The stupid girl fell for an obvious bait and wandered into an ambush, so even though she didn’t need Hongji’s soldiers to pull her out of the fire, his troops still had to escort her tattered forces back to camp.

Even with all this, Du Min Yan could be considered one of the better ones. At least she understood the error of her ways, unlike her lesser known peers. More than one up-and-comer had met their end at the hands of the Defiled, but still the others chomped at the bit, eager to cross blades with the Defiled. No need to seek them out, the Enemy would come in due time. There was a fundamental concept these ignorant children didn’t understand, and Hongji was loathe to voice it out loud. This war was never about defeating the Enemy, for the Enemy could not be defeated. This was about defending the Empire, no more, no less. Their mission was not to slaughter all the Defiled, but to hold them back long enough for a new Wall to be built. The new Western Wall would stretch more than a thousand kilometres from sea to wasteland, so they would need every living soldier they could spare. While killing the Defiled three-to-one might sound impressive, the Imperial Forces would have to aim much higher just to hold the line, a harsh reality few were able to accept.

Knowing this, Hongji had low expectations for this latest crop of young talents now trickling into his camp, and doubly so after his second handed him a list of their names and unit compositions. One name in particular made his stomach churn, a name he knew not because they’d met before, but because these days, when anyone spoke of young talents, this name would invariably come up. A beardless boy who shocked the North when he first appeared, fighting in the second round of the Challenge for Office of Shen Huo’s Magistrate. All but unheard of for a fifteen year old child, but not only was he called, he emerged victorious as well, defeating DuGu Tian Yi, the middle-aged son of famed DuGu Tian Sha and ending this celebrated hero’s illustrious bloodline.

A year later, this same boy had been all but forgotten when he took part in the Society of Heaven and Earth’s Contest, but once again, his actions spread far and wide, even into Central where they cared little for foreign happenings. Granted, most of this was due to perverse satisfaction at the Society's failure to apprehend a group of tribal savages rather than said savages’ accomplishments, and everyone expected the Society would eventually crush the upstart Bekhai to regain face, which made it all the more surprising when that boy fought and won four duels in a row, slaughtering two gifted youngsters and defeating Situ Jia Zian in the process.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Only then did people connect the Bekhai youngsters to the nameless young boy from Shen Huo. As a reward for his accomplishments, he was granted the rank of Third Grade Warrant Officer, and at the tender age of eighteen, this made him the youngest to hold the rank in ten thousand years. While this much was enough to impress commoners and peasants, the nobility had yet to take notice, but the boy had only just begun. During a mission to capture bandits, he uncovered an insidious Defiled plot and proved instrumental in subduing it, thereafter becoming the youngest Second Grade Warrant Officer in history. As if this wasn’t enough, he then tamed a Divine Beast and brought it with him to the First Imperial Grand Conference, where he engaged in twenty-eight duels on the first day alone. Then, after defeating the best young talents the Empire had to offer and winning the title of Number One Talent in the Empire, this dragon among men ascended to lofty heights never before dreamt of to become an Imperial Consort, the first ever member of Imperial Peerage not to reside in the Eastern Province.

That young boy’s name? Falling Rain of the Bekhai a tribal commoner who rose to heights unknown, and soon to be a giant pain in Hongji’s ass.

Those spare sons and arrogant hotheads all knew of Hongji’s common upbringing and lacklustre backing, so they had little to no respect for his command. While others might think Falling Rain would be more understanding considering his own common upbringing, Hongji knew better than most. Nothing fostered arrogance more than the ability to escape the confines of one’s birth, and few of those arrogant beings ever thought to help their fellow downtrodden companions. Once, in a drunken haze of self-introspection, he admitted to his wife it was because he harboured a deep-seated insecurity he could not overcome. He worried that if he helped others accomplish what he struggled so hard to achieve, it would somehow cheapen his triumphs, and he assumed it was the same with others. Once rare, but twice common, which was why he was so hard on other common-born officers under his command, not because he pushed them to excel, but because he feared their success. Such was the folly of hubris.

So how would the nineteen-year-old Imperial Consort view the fifty-five year old Colonel? Poorly, to say the least, so while he waited for Falling Rain to arrive with his lesser known travelling companions, Hongji took great pains to hide his trepidation. Strength was respected above all else, so while Falling Rain might possess a higher social standing, Colonel Chen Hongji was undeniably stronger, so one way or another, he would demand the boy’s respect through upfront bullying. He only prayed the Hidden Experts guarding such a valuable young talent would overlook his audaciousness and accept the necessity of his actions, so long as he didn’t overstep his boundaries.

Such were the difficulties for a mediocre commander. How was he to command without respect? How was he to garner respect without strength? How was he to display strength without being a little heavy-handed?

His decision made, Hongji turned westward to study the terrain, despite having already memorized every nook and cranny of the sprawling plains before him. While meant to display his intense concentration and keep the soon to arrive young commanders in waiting, it also never hurt to review one’s surroundings, especially since said surroundings hid bands of Defiled. From his command tent in the centre of camp, he could see for kilometres around. In the absence of shepherds and their herds, the grass had grown as tall as a man, and more than enough to obscure his view, but one merely needed to watch for the rustling grass to pinpoint any incoming Defiled. Under such conditions, the Defiled had taken to launching night attacks, but then it became a simple matter of getting enough traps, sentries, and other defences in place while also ensuring half his soldiers rested during the day so they could mount an effective night watch. That was the extent of his tactical planning, to dig in and hold this position from now until the final brick of the new Western Wall was in place, however many years that may take.

No fancy schemes or complicated ploys were needed. So long as Chen Hongji still drew breath, his soldiers would hold this ground or die trying, because Central, nay, the fate of the Empire itself depended on it.

While he posed in what he hoped was a suitably heroic manner, he listened as the recent arrivals gathered to greet him. Knowing how the game was played, his second in command quietly warned the eager newcomers not to disturb ‘the Colonel’s contemplation, or else’. Always better to leave the punishment to the imagination, lest some fool with more backbone than brain think five lashes worth it to save himself a few minutes of waiting. It wasn’t, but young warriors always believed themselves untouchable and invincible, when in reality, they were anything but.

Hongji counted to three hundred before turning around. Without even glancing at the newcomers or his second, he strode into his command tent to loom over the unfurled map of their surroundings, marked with several chess pieces which meant nothing at all. Shifting a few of the pieces about, he pretended he’d had an epiphany while studying the terrain, knowing full well his second would be holding the tent flap open as he ‘reminded’ Hongji the newcomers were here to greet him. “Oh? Fresh blood to be spilled?” he asked, affecting an absent minded tone as he spoke louder than necessary. “Well, I hope these ones do better than the last bunch, bless their souls.”

While bad for morale, over the years Hongji learned it was easier to instill courage in a coward as opposed to caution in a courageous, but over-confident buffoon.

Putting the chess piece down with a sigh, he strode out to meet the newcomers with a disgruntled frown, as if he saw something wrong with each and every one of them. Most of the newcomers bristled at his gaze, and few were bold enough to stare back, but when his eyes met Falling Rain standing at the head of the group, the scrawny and unimpressive looking young warrior smiled and winked. Taken aback by the insolent display, Hongji had yet to find his voice before Falling Rain clasped his hands and bowed. A full bow at the waist mind you, not a mere military salute or slight incline of his head. “Second Grade Warrant Officer Falling Rain,” the boy said, his head still bowed, “Reporting to Colonel Chen Hongji for duty.”

“Rise,” Hongji replied, faster than he’d like. Was the boy trying to trap him? As an Imperial Consort, he need not bow so deeply to a mere Colonel, even if said Colonel was his field commander. “Dispense with formalities, this is the battlefield, not a banquet hall,” he said, though what he really wanted to say was, “Small one dare not accept this bow.”

“With respect Colonel,” the boy replied, standing at full attention and still barely tall enough to reach Hongji’s chin, “In this one’s eyes, being on the battlefield makes courtesy all the more imperative. Courtesy implies respect, and without respect, there can be no discipline. Without discipline, we are no different from our enemies.”

Some of the newcomers gasped at Falling Rain’s forthright statements, but Hongji found himself nodding along and repeating the catechism in his mind. It sounded much better than what he’d come up with earlier, mostly because by eschewing any mention of strength, it implied Hongji was worthy of respect through rank alone.

Recognizing Hongji’s appreciation, Falling Rain scowled at the young warrior beside him and asked, “Well? What are you waiting for? An invitation? Why have you not introduced yourselves to the commander?”

Good, good... Perhaps Falling Rain wouldn’t be so difficult to work with after all...

Though he already knew their names, Hongji pretended he was hearing them all for the first time. In truth, few of Falling Rain’s travelling companions were well-known, with the most famous youths either already on the front lines or safely tucked away somewhere or the other. Once finished with the introductions, Hongji addressed them as a group. “Welcome to the front lines,” he said, keeping his voice flat and monotone. “Some of you are here to reinforce the camp, others will be sent out on patrol. Regardless of your task, out here, we are the first line of defence against the Defiled, and should you all follow my commands perfectly, the only line of defence the Empire requires.” Not entirely true, but nothing wrong with building their pride a little before knocking them down. “If you’ve come for honour, glory, fame, or wealth, then turn back now, for you will find none of that here. We are here for one reason and one reason only: to defend the Empire. No more, no less, understood?”

“Yes Colonel,” Falling Rain replied, his voice loud and confident. The others in the group chimed in soon after, following his example and showing Hongji the respect he thought he’d have to fight for.

“Good. Rest well, but be ready.” Dismissing them with a wave of his hand, he added, “The Defiled have attacked every night for the past week, and I see no reason why tonight will be any different.” The gravity of the situation had finally dawned on the last of the spares, but Mother help him if most of these brats didn’t look eager for bloodshed, Falling Rain included.

Instead of turning to leave, Falling Rain moved a step closer and asked, “Permission to speak to Colonel in private?”

Here it comes. “Come with me,” Hongji said, heading into his tent. So long as the boy remained respectful and disciplined in public, Hongji would be happy to swallow his pride and hold his tongue in private.

Inside, Falling Rain studied the map with a puzzled expression before hiding a smirk, having figured out Hongji’s game. Nevertheless, the boy offered a salute and said, “I might be overstepping my bounds, but I noticed a few issues on the way in and thought it best to bring these matters to Colonel’s attention.”

And so it begins. The Imperial Consort’s camping grounds were too poor, his fare too plain, and so on, and so forth. “Let’s hear it then.”

“The tall grass provides too much cover to any invading force,” Falling Rain said, again catching Hongji off-guard. “Although you’ve already cleared most of the grass around us, laying stones and rubble will keep the grass from growing back and impede the progress of anyone travelling over it.” Too surprised to respond, Hongji blinked and stared at the strange young man, and Falling Rain took it as permission to continue. “We could also hide traps among the rubble and leave clear paths for troop movement, which will also -”

“Funnel the Defiled where we want them to go.” Finally finding his voice, Hongji jumped in so not to seem the fool. “Clever, but is it worth the effort? With constant night raids, the soldiers need to rest during the day.”

“True,” Falling Rain said, unperturbed by Hongji’s rude interruption. “However, another benefit of laying down stones is we now have a firebreak ready.” With a grin which made him look even younger, he added, “You know... so we can set everything on fire before we leave.”

Mother in Heaven...

Imagining the screams of a million Defiled burning to death on the western plains, Hongji smiled for the first time all night, possibly even all week. “Yes... but you think too small. With a little preparation, we could ignite a blaze visible even from Nan Ping.” A few oil caches out in the middle of nowhere would pose no danger to his troops, not if they stayed inside their patrol routes. “This...” Hongji hesitated, wondering how to best frame it. “This goes beyond my reach. I’ll need to speak with the other commanders down the line to coordinate our efforts, perhaps even bring it before high command, but if they see the merits as I do, there will be great rewards in store.” Promotions, wealth, reputation and more...

“Then I must trouble Colonel to do so.” With a nod of his head, Falling Rain continued, “As for rewards, there’s no need speak of such things. All I did was make a simple suggestion, and Colonel was amicable enough to listen. Besides,” Falling Rain added with a careless shrug, “Any reward will be meaningless if we can’t hold the Defiled here.”

Cheeks burning with shame, Hongji steadied his breathing and reassessed the warrior before him, so shrewd and level-headed at such a young age. No wonder the Legate saw fit to reward Falling Rain with Imperial Peerage, for even without his prodigious Martial prowess, this was a man destined for greatness. “Well said, well said.” Thickening the skin of his face, Hongji swallowed his pride and asked, “Have you any other suggestions?”

Forget keeping the rewards for himself. Hongji would proudly attribute everything to Falling Rain so the world could be inspired by his greatness.

This time, it was Falling Rain’s turn to be surprised, before beaming with joy. “Certainly,” he said. “For starters...”

When the meeting came to an end, Hongji peered down at his notes, awed by the wealth of knowledge contained within them. A consummate young talent, brilliant innovator, talented tactician, and Mother knows what else, if not for Falling Rain’s terrible calligraphy and diminutive stature, Hongji would have thought the amber-eyed young man was utterly without flaw. If the other young talents had one-tenth... no, one-twentieth of Falling Rain’s brilliance, then Hongji was confident the Defiled would be swept from the Western province in a mere twenty to thirty years.

Assuming some Ancestral Beast didn’t slag them all first.

Inspired by Falling Rain’s attitude, Hongji made a small revision to his poem.

When Gods stride out to meet in battle,

Heaven and Earth are torn asunder,

and Mortals can do naught but persevere.

Chapter Meme