Since stepping into office as Marshal of the North, Yuzhen had never taken a day off to rest, yet she still struggled to keep up with the workload. How her old man managed was beyond her comprehension, as dealing with the day-to-day routine left little time for the multitude of calamities crossing her desk. Defending her holdings, keeping her allies happy, and ensuring her enemies weren’t plotting her demise, these were merely the appetizers in her full-course meal of disasters, but the main course changed from day to day. Food shortages, dwindling funds, price gouging, and unruly bandits, there seemed to be no end to these tribulations in sight.
A small wonder her old man never had time for the Martial Path. Forget training, Yuzhen counted herself fortunate if she had time enough to sleep.
Being stationed so far away from her base of power wasn’t helping her efforts, but she understood the need. Without these new defences in place, a million-strong horde of Defiled could waltz into Central and the Empire would be helpless to stop them, and without Yuzhen here to supervise, thousands of unscrupulous parasitic merchants would bleed the Empire dry, too stupid, short-sighted, or conceited to care about the consequences of their actions. They were a few weeks into construction and Yuzhen had already executed over a hundred people for crimes ranging from simple thievery and embezzlement to all-out fraud and war-profiteering. She was happy enough to look the other way if an overseer pocketed a few silvers here and there, but the sheer audacity of some of these crooks and swindlers left her in awe of their stupidity. What did these merchants expect to happen when they delivered sub-par goods or shoddy materials? For her to shrug, open her coffers, and pay them what they were owed? Did they expect her to strip down and dance for them too? One enterprising con-man even tried to sell her the rights to a mine she already owned, a move which left her sides in stitches from the first real bout of uncontrolled laughter since her old man’s passing.
Grateful as she was for the much needed hilarity, she still had the fool hung by the neck until dead.
At least things weren’t all doom and gloom for Yuzhen, with more working in her favour than against her. In her absence, things had settled down back home, with most cities and factions falling in line. Shen Huo, Shen Yun, and the Bekhai all stood firmly in Yuzhen’s camp, and with Sanshu already in her pocket, this meant the peripheral cities reliant on them like Shen Bin and Jiu Lang had no choice but to follow. After Falling Rain absconded with their Guardian Turtle, the people of Ping Yao took it as a sign from the Mother above and pledged their eternal support to the Bekhai, leaving their Magistrate with little choice but to follow suit or risk bloody revolution if seen working against his city’s ‘Divine Attendant’. With everyone working harmoniously, construction on her section of the Wall was ahead of schedule and below budget, earning the North much vaunted praise from the Legate.
Security of the North was also well in hand. Reconstruction at the Bridge had finally finished, but now Shen Jin was the more concerning location. As the guardian of the passageway into the West, the Magistrate of Shen Jin set to reinforcing the pass at his own expense, filling it with pitfalls, dead ends, fire traps, and countless other defences. To hear him say it, the expense rendered him ‘without two coins to rub together’, and Yuzhen mostly believed it. She was less inclined to believe his claim that should the Defiled horde seek entry in the North through Shen Jin, then they would die to the last savage before seeing the city gates, but she appreciated his willingness to part with his fortune.
Then again, considering his family had amassed said fortune over multiple generations from collecting taxes on goods moving from the North to the West and vice versa, it was only fitting he foot the bill.
Unfortunately, most Yuzhen’s headaches arose from the Society, and by extension, Feng Huang. As the two southernmost cities, all of the North’s people, supplies, and resources funnelled through them to reach her here in SuiHua, giving them the upper hand in negotiations. One word from them and everything would go to shit as delays cropped up, shipments disappeared, and ‘evidence’ of smuggling, bribery and extortion would find its way into the wrong hands. To the outside world, it appeared as if Yuzhen had united the North, but more discerning individuals knew the Society bent her over a barrel and ravaged her at every opportunity.
Metaphorically speaking, of course. She actually found being bent over a barrel by Gerel rather exhilarating on those rare occasions she found time away from her duties.
‘Focus,’ she mentally scolded herself, returning to her present circumstances. Sitting across the table were three individuals representing the most powerful factions of the Society. The first two were Situ Rang Min and Han BoDing, the Patriarchs of their respective clans and a pair of greedy, self serving bastards. Long-time enemies always at each others throats, Yuzhen had had great success playing them off one another in the past, but recent events had changed the dynamic between them. Both Patriarchs were on the back foot regarding Clan politics now that their sacrificial heirs, Situ Jia Zian and Han BoShui, had risen to fame in the public eye, mostly thanks to their relationship with Rain and their success on the front lines, which in turn earned them support from their Clan Elders. Though both young men were overshadowed by Rain, his achievements were so far ahead of his peers most people placed him in a category all on his own, leaving the others racing for second place.
Having seen the writing on the wall, Rang Min and BoDing were desperate for a victory to tout before their clans, and thus they entered a shaky alliance to present a united front against Yuzhen. Today’s order of business was to demand she lower taxes on account of all the poor, destitute Society members struggling to maintain their decadent lifestyles. Jin ZhiYa, the third individual present and current High Elder of the Harmonious Unity Sect, was supposedly on Yuzhen’s side, but a reduction in taxes would be beneficial to ZhiYa’s faction, not to mention the woman was essentially a human puppet for her half-beast masters and had to check in before making important decisions. Since the two Patriarchs brought this issue up without warning, for the sake of this negotiation, ZhiYa might as well not be present.
Her eyes radiating cold fury, Yuzhen sat with hands folded in silent stillness, letting time and suspicion do her work for her as she Sent a message to Gerel. “Done sparring with Charok yet? Are you shirtless and sweaty?”
“We have yet to begin my love, but it could be arranged. Do you require my presence, or merely desire it?”
Cocky bastard. Don’t smile. “Neither,” Yuzhen Sent, studying both Patriarchs intently. “Just making noise for my troublesome guests, so stop being so damned charming.”
“Alas, if only I could,” came Gerel’s reply, deadpan and serious as always. “Such is my curse, but fear not, for I only have eyes for you.”
“Enough.” Yuzhen let her frustration show, a calculated ‘error’, then widened her eyes ever so slightly in feigned surprise. It all happened in the blink of an eye, but her guests missed nothing and the display left them wondering what fortuitous news she had just received. “I need to concentrate now, so shush. Love you.”
“Love you more.”
A genuine half-smile slipped out before Yuzhen caught herself, but the minor gaffe helped sell her story. Since everyone in the room could sense her Sendings but didn’t know who she Sent to, each Patriarch would believe she was communicating with the other and cutting him out of the deal, a ploy which worked like a charm. Rang Min and BoDing had grown up together as friends written rivals and there was no greater enmity than one between former allies. They’d been at one another’s throats for decades, and Yuzhen would dance naked in the streets if she couldn’t use it against them and shatter their flimsy alliance to pieces.
Truth be told, she found the idea of public nudity rather titillating, but sadly the trappings of office and easily identifiable fox-tail meant she couldn’t afford to risk it, which made it that much more enticing.
While her mind drifted and daydreamed, her opponents unmade themselves before her. Though Yuzhen’s Sendings had fallen silent, Rang Min and BoDing were deep in conversation as they fired silent messages at one another, each accusing the other of underhanded dealings. Neither Patriarch would believe the other was working in good faith, especially since they betrayed one another often enough in the past. They’d see their counterpart’s accusations as a sham to cover up their subterfuge, and soon, once all the accusations and insults were out of the way, one would take a step back and offer a counter-proposal, which they would both assume was what she was after. A smaller tax break, something Yuzhen could accept to avoid the bloody and costly struggle which would ensue should she back one Patriarch against the other.
Games within games, but unlike her opponents, Yuzhen had learned from the best.
Soon enough, the two Patriarchs reached a conclusion and they presented her with a new offer, quoting numbers Yuzhen was happy to work with. Unfortunately for the Society, her old man taught her how to squeeze blood from a rock. Chest heaving in false anger, she made eye contact with each Patriarch before raising her hand to slash at the air, leaving it up to them to interpret if she wanted to halve the new numbers or had just offered to decapitate a Patriarch. The temptation too much to resist, Rang Min and BoDing traded heated glances before grimacing in defeat, offering each other a quiet nod of respect before agreeing to halve their offer once more.
After finalizing their deal, everyone walked away a winner. Undoubtedly the biggest winner, Yuzhen decided to celebrate by watching her handsome future husband work up a sweat, then drag him away for a horizontal spar in their bed. Arriving home with her Honour Guard in tow, Yuzhen was surprised to see she wasn’t the only spectator present. While Gerel and Charok traded ringing blows in the courtyard, Rain’s harem and menagerie watched from the side with Charok’s darling twins, the white-haired sweetlings cheering their papa on with startling blood lust. Inwardly lamenting the loss of her alone time with Gerel, Yuzhen greeted Mila with open arms and grunted as the powerful young woman squeezed just a little too hard. “Had I known you’d all be here, I’d have brought something back to eat.”
“We’re showing Luo-Luo a real fight!” Knowing better than to get between them, Lin-Lin waited until Mila withdrew to step in for her hug. “We have leftovers if you’re hungry Yu-Yu. Fried rice, steamed chicken, and dumplings too.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Yuzhen didn’t hate the girlish appellation so long as Lin-Lin remembered to call her ‘Marshal Yuzhen’ in public, but it was hard to say if she would. The sweet half-hare girl was just like her adopted father, intelligent but eccentric to the extreme. Whereas Lin-Lin merely liked to fly kites and climb trees, Taduk spent his days exploring the Azure Sea in a shabby dinghy, accompanied by a single guard, a rabbit, and an octopus in a cooking pot. What he was searching for was hard to say, but off he went every morning with the same lineup, though he often switched between the many rabbits hopping about Rain’s manor.
Accepting a bowl from Luo-Luo, Yuzhen’s gaze fixated on the girl’s new accessory, a long-handled mace whose weight threatened to tear her silk belt in twain. “Thank you,” Yuzhen said before nodding at the beautifully crafted Spiritual Weapon. “A marvellous piece. Did Mila craft it?”
“Indeed it is Marshal Yuzhen,” the Imperial Servant replied, her pale complexion and wan smile telling Yuzhen everything she needed to know. “Luo-Luo received it this morning and has yet to bind it, but she will give it her all and endeavour not to disappoint.”
Silly, naive girl, didn’t she know how dangerous it was to admit she carried an unbound Spiritual Weapon? Then again, Luo-Luo could strip naked and walk from here to the Arid Wastes and arrive untouched, such was the power of her Lord Husband’s backing. Thinking to help the poor girl escape this dire fate, Yuzhen turned to Mila and said, “Perhaps my request is too forward, but I have a talented guard in dire need of a Spiritual Weapon like Luo-Luo’s. Seeing how it’s unbound, would it be possible to sell this one to me?”
There was no talented guard in need of a mace, but forcing Luo-Luo to become a Martial Warrior would be an utter waste of the girl’s talents in business and statecraft. Purchasing the Spiritual Weapon would buy Yuzhen time to dissuade Mila and the others from this foolish decision and save Luo-Luo, which might earn her a sizable discount from Rain’s budding merchant empire. Despite having released all his secrets to the world for free, Luo-Luo’s sharp business acumen had grown a minor partnership into a highly-profitable enterprise built around cast iron, with over two-dozen military contracts under their belt and still more yet to be fulfilled. Every facet of the company had been considered before their competitors understood the value of cast iron, whether it be purchasing pig-iron mines to ensure a steady supply, offering better wages and conditions to develop loyalty in her work force, selling at a discount to the army to build their reputation, or paying a premium weeks ago to settle a contract now worth ten or twenty times what they paid. They were even prepared to craft bells the same day the Legate announced his bell towers, which made Luo-Luo a once in a millennia genius of commerce who Yuzhen had to recruit.
It was even thanks to Luo-Luo’s ingenuity the wall was progressing so quickly, though where the young woman got the idea to insert metal rods through multiple layers of bricks for added reinforcement, Yuzhen couldn’t say. The girl was as ingenious as Rain and hardworking as Mila, and though Yuzhen once hoped to take both under her wing, they were too talented in other fields for her to poach. How could she let Luo-Luo slip out of her hands too?
“It’s not for me to decide,” Mila declared, wholly unconcerned with the issue. “I gifted the weapon to Luo-Luo and it’s hers to do with as she pleases.”
Perfect. Turning to the Imperial Servant, Yuzhen waited for her to nod and say yes, but Luo-Luo hesitated instead. Why? Didn’t she know the Bekhai meant exactly what they said and nothing more? If Mila said the weapon was Luo-Luo’s to do with as she pleased, then that’s exactly what she meant. Sell the weapon, gift it to another, toss it in the sea, whatever Luo-Luo did, Mila and the others wouldn’t care one whit.
Well... they might care if Luo-Luo tossed it in the sea. The Bekhai abhorred waste, especially considering Spiritual Weapons were both rare and vital for Martial Warriors.
After a long period of deliberation, Luo-Luo fell to her knees and kowtowed, a move which left Yuzhen bewildered and confused. “Luo-Luo offers her most sincere apologies, Marshal Yuzhen. This gift is too precious to sell for any price. Luo-Luo hopes to become a Martial Warrior worthy of the Bekhai and stand on the battlefield beside Lord Husband and Sister Mila.”
Even as Yuzhen rushed to help Luo-Luo up, she noted the flash of annoyance which crossed Yan’s fair face, surmising all was not well in Falling Rain’s happy harem, but this wasn’t the time for juicy drama. Brushing Luo-Luo’s forehead clean of dirt, Yuzhen hugged her and said, “No need to be so dramatic, girl. It was merely an off-hand request. The weapon is yours and I’m sure you’ll become a splendid warrior.” Damn the Bekhai and their Warrior idolatry. Damn the Empire for the same thing too. How long before the bureaucrats and bean-counters of the world were recognized for their work? If not for them, armies would limp into battle, naked and starving...
Her mood dampened, Yuzhen ate the leftovers and watched Gerel prance about the courtyard, swinging his heavy glaive about like a twig while Charok fended him off with his spear. A daily routine of theirs, the two rarely fought to a decision, always exchanging blows until both were too tired to continue. After the first time she watched them spar, she asked Gerel if he’d been taking it easy on his partner and her prideful man gave her a wounded look as if she’d called him a child rapist or worse. In Bekhai culture, going easy in a spar was apparently akin to wishing death upon one’s opponent, which explained volumes about Rain’s behaviour during his sparring matches.
Sadly, Charok was the closest thing Gerel had to a friend, and apparently, yet another hidden Bekhai Expert. Her pitiful, loner of a lover, she didn’t know why Gerel stood as a man apart from the otherwise close-knit community, but she reckoned it was their loss and her gain. A shame he wasn’t business savvy like Rain, Mila, or Luo-Luo...
Especially Luo-Luo. Though her eyes stayed fixated on the match, the Imperial Servant wasted no time by Yuzhen’s side, pitching all manner of goods from pots and pans to iron wagons and triple-crossbows. Though intrigued, Yuzhen feigned disinterest and nodded along, knowing if she appeared too eager, the shrewd beauty would take her for everything she was worth.
“Oh, by the way,” Luo-Luo remarked, her tone neutral and aloof as she handed a letter to Yuzhen. “Lord Husband has a gift for Marshal Yuzhen. Scholar Diyako and his team recently perfected a treatment to rust-proof iron, the process of which is detailed within.”
Yuzhen’s jaw dropped and shattered her indifferent facade, but she couldn’t be bothered to care. “A rust-proofing treatment? As in it can be applied to items which have already been crafted?”
“Indeed.” Her cherry lips pursed in a pleased smile, Luo-Luo said, “Lord Husband found it distasteful to sell so many iron products only for them to rust within the year, so he tasked Scholar Diyako to find a solution and is distributing it freely for all to use.” Glancing over the solution, Yuzhen grimaced and bit back a curse. The materials listed within weren’t too rare or valuable, but she had a sneaking suspicion Luo-Luo would have already secured large quantities to sell, a suspicion quickly proven by the crafty servant’s next sentence. “If Marshal Yuzhen would like to purchase the materials, then Luo-Luo would be happy to provide them.” For a price, no doubt. Brilliant. Utterly brilliant. Not only would Rain earn a fortune, he also earned the goodwill of all his previous customers by providing the rust-proofing method for free, something he wouldn’t have been able to keep secret regardless of his intentions.
“If you don’t ask her, I will.”
“I will, but later.”
“She’s right there. Just ask. How often are you going to meet with the Marshal?”
“I’ll handle it, so shut up and watch the spar.”
Though Yan tried to keep her argument quiet, the half-cat slave Kyung made no such effort. Needing time to research before butting heads with the master negotiator Luo-Luo, Yuzhen seized the opportunity to escape and approached Yan. “There’s no need to be shy. Come, tell sister Yuzhen what you need. More soldiers? So eager to return to the front lines, are we? I’ll take care of it forthwith.”
“Ah...” Flushed with shame, Yan shrunk back and shook her head, unable to look Yuzhen in the eye. “Er... no, I don’t need reinforcements. I... uh... I don’t think I’ll be going back.”
“What? Why?”
Mila and Kyung spoke with one voice and Yan flinched away, but the short-haired beauty soon rallied and answered, “Well... because I’m utter shit at command.” Giving voice to her fears seemed to help her accept it as Yan shrugged and continued, “I lost 40% of my retinue every time I set out on patrol, so I figured it’s time I stopped going out and getting good soldiers killed.”
“Tch. This is why I hate kids.” Grabbing Yan by the shoulder, Kyung spun her to face him, an utterly unthinkable act for most slaves. “Listen idiot, because I’ll only say this once. You did fine.” Hearing this, Yan rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to speak, but Kyung gave her no chance. “Shut up. I’m not trying to comfort you, I’m stating a fact. Your results weren’t great, but no one was expecting them to be. You set out with standard soldiers using standard-issue gear, an all light-infantry force with less than ten Spiritual Weapons. You had no dedicated scouts, no cavalry, no heavy infantry, nothing except a bunch of common grunts, a rushed education, and a dearth of experience. Of course you can’t compare to the likes of Falling Rain, who has everything you’re lacking not to mention the finest heavy infantry in the Empire under his command. Master figured you would’ve lost your entire retinue on your first time out, but you didn’t, so congratulations. You exceeded expectations.”
“...Grandpa wanted me to fail?”
Yan’s eyes brimmed with tears at the apparent betrayal, but Kyung snorted and said, “No, Master expected you to fail. There’s a difference. You’ve never been a five or ten-man commander, but Master has no time to coddle you, so he accepted my suggestion to send you out on a trial by fire. ‘Learn by doing’, and it was working, but now you want to laze around and shirk your lessons? Absolutely not.” Poking Yan in the chest, Kyung demanded, “Ask the Marshal for more fodder and get back out there.”
Trembling from head to toe, Yan snarled and grabbed Kyung by the collar. “So you’re telling me one-hundred and sixty-two soldiers died to teach me a lesson?”
“Yes.” Unperturbed by Yan’s wrath, Kyung stood hunched over in her grip and weathered her murderous glare without blinking. He made no effort to defend himself should she lash out, not that it mattered if he did. Yan wouldn’t even need to lift a finger if she wanted him dead, she only needed to speak the words and he would take his own life. After long seconds, Kyung sighed and spoke softly, a tone which ill-suited the blunt, no-nonsense slave. “Behind every Great General lies a mountain of dead soldiers. You think the likes of Nian Zu, Shuai Jiao, or even your admired Akanai never made a mistake? When officers make mistakes, soldiers die. Such is life little Yan, but as Master’s Terminal Disciple, you must become a Great General. One-hundred and sixty-two soldiers have already died to pave the way forward. Don’t let their sacrifice be in vain.”
A hard lesson for all youths to learn, but an important one. Yan’s compassion was admirable, but also a hindrance. Great achievements required great sacrifices, but the ones accomplishing the achievements were rarely the same people making the sacrifices. To build the wall, hundreds of slaves had already died, and thousands more would follow, but such was the price the Empire paid, lives spent now to save more lives later. The same concept applied to Yan’s training. An error now might cost her a few dozen soldiers, but as she rose in rank, those errors would only grow more costly, so better she make them now and learn from them. As much as Yuzhen wanted to comfort the poor girl, she knew it would be counterproductive to coddle her, a sentiment shared by Mila as she kept Lin-Lin from approaching. Instead, they all looked away and pretended not to notice Yan’s shaking shoulders or hear her quiet sobs, giving her the time she needed to deal with her guilt and grief.
Which was better than how Yuzhen had handled it back when she learned this lesson, kicking and screaming up a storm. She still remembered how, after all her anger was spent, her old man had pulled her close and patted her head, reassuring her with his soothing timbre...
After thirty minutes and countless exchanges, Gerel and Charok’s spar ended with yet another draw. Only then did Yan wipe her tears and approach Yuzhen, her eyes red and gaze determined. “Marshal Yuzhen,” she said, her voice trembling ever so slightly. “Warrant Officer Third Grade Du Min Yan requests reinforcements for her retinue, fifty-nine soldiers in total.” As an afterthought, she added, “Also, a billet for the forty-one soldiers still with me. They deserve a roof over their heads, at least until we head back.”
Resisting the urge to hug the poor girl, Yuzhen instead gave her a military salute. “Understood, Warrant Officer Du. This Marshal shall make it so.” Only then did she pull Yan into her embrace, a hug which Mila, Lin-Lin, and Luo-Luo joined soon after. “Everything will be all right child,” Yuzhen said, her chest tight and heart heavy as she repeated what her old man told her then. “Because you have family who love you to help you through this.”
Mother in Heaven, she missed her old man...
“Okay then,” Kyung said, ruining the tender moment. “That’s taken care of. My turn to spar now. Baldy, you rest up, I’ll warm up with your friend and we’ll settle old scores when I’m done.”
...Baldy?!
“Yan darling,” Yuzhen said, her voice loud and sickly sweet. “I never noticed it before, but don’t you think Kyung would look so handsome with a shaved head?” The half-cat warrior froze in place and Yan burst into laughter, but Yuzhen wasn’t joking around. If Du Min Gyu didn’t know how to keep his subordinates in line, then Yuzhen didn’t mind teaching Kyung in his place. After all, no matter how strong he might be, Yan held his chains and Yuzhen had no qualms against playing dirty. “Of course, we’ll need to shave his tail to match and give him a cute little outfit to show off in. Something short and tight to show off his abs and thighs, with plenty of colour and lace...”
Chapter Meme