“Mmhmm... Yea, right there wifey.”
“Like this?”
“Harder please.”
“Are you sure?”
“Don’t worry, I can handle it.”
“Okay hubby. How’s this?”
“Perfect. You’re the best.”
Cheeks burning and eyes averted, Luo-Luo stood at the sides and wrung her hands while doing her best not to stare at the immoral couple, yet she was unable to tear her eyes away. Lost in their own little world, Lord Husband and Lin-Lin carried on with their display without a care in the world and paid no mind to the audience around them. More surprising was how no one else seemed to care, not Li-Li sitting beside them cradling Sarankho in her arms, nor the Abbot who stood with back turned chanting Sutras for all to hear. The Divine Turtle watching from above did nothing to dissuade them, and Luo-Luo’s handmaidens didn’t even bat an eye before offering their services, but thankfully Lord Husband wasn’t so callous as to accept, not while Luo-Luo herself had yet to partake.
Was she overthinking things? No, impossible. How could all these people here not understand? There Lord Husband lay soaking in his smooth-stone tub, basking beneath the afternoon sun while he and Lin-Lin engaged in the most erotic and sensual act a woman could perform for her man without batting an eye. Her sleeves rolled up past the elbows and cheeks flushed from the heat of the water, Lin-Lin stood there lathering Lord Husband’s hair and rigorously massaged his scalp, her expert touch eliciting muted groans of pleasure while he lay naked and half asleep.
Back in the Academy, Luo-Luo’s teachers had taught her all manner of ways in which to entice and pamper her future Patron, but those techniques paled in comparison to Lin-Lin’s prowess. On the surface, there was nothing lewd or obscene taking place, no naked breasts pressed against the back of his neck or smooth legs wrapped around his waist. Instead, Lin-Lin stood behind Lord Husband and at an appropriate distance from the tub, not quite arms lengths but with a clear, deliberate space between them so her clothes wouldn’t get wet. Had Luo-Luo been in her place, she would’ve gladly stripped bare, sat facing Lord Husband on his lap, and flaunted her body for Lord Husband to appreciate, but her actions would’ve been for naught. Eyes closed and body limp, he lay there naked as the day he was born save for a cloth floating in the water which more or less kept him modest, utterly relaxed and wholly defenceless while his darling wifey worked her magic.
Which surprisingly enough, didn’t look all that different from how she would pet the animals, from the grasping motions she made with her fingers right down to the same silly expression on the receiver's face.
Eyeing sweet Aurie sitting obediently to one side, Luo-Luo choked on her laughter as she pictured Lord Husband’s face superimposed over the docile wildcat’s, but her mirth died quickly as reality reared its ugly head. Though blissfully enjoying Lin-Lin’s ministrations, Lord Husband’s condition was no laughing matter. His emaciated frame was only scratching the surface, but the earlier meeting with the Army Healers would go a long ways towards remedying this. Hot baths and hot food were a luxury here on the front lines, one which might see Lord Husband castigated in the court of public opinion, but there was no helping it. He’d only been away from the citadel for a single week, ten measly days of eating nothing but travel rations, and already he’d lost most of his mediocre reserves of body fat. Worse, his heroics on the wall last night had taxed him greatly, leaving a smattering of ugly purple and yellow bruises across his body, the worst of which were situated around his left shoulder which he almost tore and dislocated dragging soldier Tarsov to safety.
Her poor, heroic Lord Husband, weak as a day-old kitten yet still possessing the courage of a lion. He and his people suffered greatly during the fierce battle last night, and while none had died, many of his soldiers now lay grievously injured in the medical tent. Ironically, Tarsov was better off than most, up and about while his benefactor Saida lay unconscious in her cot, easily the worst off of the bunch after taking multiple wounds to hold back the Defiled so Lord Husband could bring the fallen Tarsov away. Luo-Luo had overheard the soldiers say the Healers almost failed to save the heroine’s life and her status was still touch and go, but having seen the aftermath of the heroine’s actions when she visited the tents earlier, Luo-Luo wholeheartedly believed them.
It made for a touching tale, one of a warrior woman standing guard over her fallen lover and courageous superior, but apparently, Saida and Tarsov could barely stand one another. Even then, such was the depths of their camaraderie that she didn’t even think twice about risking her life without knowing if he was dead or alive...
A gross oversimplification of course, with more than a little romanticizing on Luo-Luo’s part. Had Saida not stepped up to guard Tarsov’s fallen form, then the Defiled would’ve gained a foothold on the battlements and soon overwhelmed the rest of Lord Husband’s tired defenders. Even with Saida’s valiant efforts, Lord Husband’s people might have been overrun regardless if not for the intervention from one Hondou Masahige, a lowly Lieutenant whose family was tightly linked to the Mitsue’s. A direct subordinate of Sinuji’s commander, Masahige was obviously Mitsue Watanabe’s puppet and sacrificial lamb, a mouthpiece through which to relay his orders and absolve him of all culpability. A tricky matter, dealing with Lord Husband while his true status had yet to be revealed, for their enemies still had to respect Shen ZhenWu standing behind him, but so long as Masahige died before any Imperial inquiry, then Watanabe could claim his subordinate acted on his own, a simple truth Lord Husband didn’t wholly appreciate.
It was maddening. Usually, Lord Husband’s paranoia bordered on the extreme, yet he was still willing to give Masahige the benefit of a doubt. Not because he thought the man genuinely wanted to help him, no, Lord Husband believed the Lieutenant was a warrior first, one who’d been moved to action by Dastan’s exemplary heroics, as if a man like Masahige would ever admire a slave. Luo-Luo had seen his type a thousand times before, an ambitious underling who delighted in carrying out his patron’s dirty work. Status was everything to people like him, because his loyalty hinged upon the ability to use his patron’s status against others, so in Masahige’s eyes, a slave would always be a slave, no matter how valiant or heroic.
Of course, it occurred to her that Masahige might not have been moved to action on the wall by Dastan’s heroics, but by Lord Husband’s. From the way he told it, Masahige only sprung into action after Lord Husband attacked a Defiled tribesman and dragged a fallen soldier away, all at great risk to himself, but he dismissed her theory as ‘ridiculous’. “When a mouse attacks a cat, no one thinks, ‘brave mouse’,” he’d said, flashing that hateful, knowing smile which meant there was no chance of changing his mind without irrefutable proof, and even then it would be difficult.
Sadly, he wasn’t wrong as all her contacts reported that few cared to speak of Lord Husband’s heroics except to dismiss them as sheer madness. In this, his intelligence worked against him, being a stubborn, opinionated man who bucked and kicked every time Luo-Luo tried to take the reins, but what else was she to do? This was a complicated matter which required a soft touch, and Lord Husband’s actions were akin to a sparrow playing the part of a bull. Courageous as he might be, no one would be awed or intimidated by his actions, not while he remained crippled and without hope, but even now, with his soldiers injured and death hanging over his head, he still refused to try a different approach and continued going about as if his full recovery was only a matter of time.
An issue of support, in Luo-Luo’s opinion, for the Bekhai offered him too much. A strange thing to complain about considering how noble and benevolent their actions were considering most other factions would’ve thrown Lord Husband to the wolves, but with his people’s backing, he had yet to accept the cold, hard truth: there was no recovering from this, no coming back from a shattered Core, not without long decades of struggles and hardships. Not even four months had passed since his fall in Sinuji, yet here he was behaving as if his recovery would soon be finished when in truth, he had yet to even begin. Granted, Lord Husband was an outlier in many ways, including his Heaven-Blessed Talent to absorb the Father’s incorporeal minions which Luo-Luo had thought were things of myth and superstition. Spectres, Lord Husband called them, and everyone else adopted the moniker as well, but Luo-Luo couldn’t stop thinking about the bedtime stories her teachers had told them whilst she was still but a child, of how the first Demons were avatars of anger and hatred without form or substance, creatures which poisoned the hearts of humanity and turned them against the Mother.
Was that not what Spectres were? Demons yet to take form? If so, then didn’t that mean Lord Husband had a veritable horde of would-be Demons clinging to his eternal soul? Was Lord Husband a Chosen Son of the Mother, here to save them from the Enemy, or was he the Father’s secret weapon hiding in plain sight, a vessel with which He could infiltrate the highest echelons of Imperial Society, and perhaps even turn the Emperor of humanity himself?
A most frightening thought, one which had Luo-Luo tossing and turning long before the battle began, but there were no answers to be had. All she could do was trust Lord Husband and do her best to keep him safe, but it seemed like an impossible undertaking considering he refused any and all of her suggestions out of hand. Lowering himself to charm common soldiers was a grievous mistake, and doubly so when doing it amongst pious soldiers who were only there to greet the Divine Turtle, but Lord Husband went ahead with his plan anyways to obvious results. Though he admitted the error of his ways after the fact, he made no mention of Luo-Luo’s warning or how he could’ve avoided such a blunder if he’d only listened to her advice.
And as if to rub salt into her wounds, Lord Husband’s voice sounded out right then, saying, “I’m glad I didn’t send Junior back to his family or have him killed out of hand. This was his best idea yet.”
A crime is what this was, bullying of the highest levels. This was all the result of Luo-Luo’s hard work, but no one appreciated her efforts. Junior Yimu’s plan had been to use the Healers to have Lord Husband discharged from his duties, but it would never have worked because it relied too heavily on the kindness of strangers. Not only would the attending Healer be subjected to intense public scrutiny after following through with Junior’s idea, their family would also be in danger of Imperial retribution. Any fool with half a brain could see that Falling Rain was pitted against the Disciplinary Corps, so who would dare help a stranger in such dire straits without a benefit to be had? Luo-Luo had worked hard to guide Lord Husband to see the benefits at hand, not just to obtain permission to circumvent the ban on fire, but also to forge a connection with the Healers of Sinuji. Having met and interacted with him, the Healers might feel obligated to keep informed of his situation, and while they might not directly offer him aid, the more influential eyes on Lord Husband, the safer he would be, for even Justicars couldn’t openly flout the Empire’s laws, only twist them to their advantage.
While it was true her stubborn Lord Husband had balked at her suggestion until Junior Yimu convinced him otherwise, it was hardly fair to give him all the credit for only half the work. Such was Luo-Luo’s fate as the neglected concubine, standing off to one side while the other wives enjoyed Lord Husband’s favour. Not just Lin-Lin either, but Li-Li too now, always lingering within arms reach of him yet not close enough to allow Luo-Luo room to join. It was either plant herself between Li-Li and Lord Husband which might upset the taciturn half-cat, or sit beside Lin-Lin where she would be promptly ignored and forgotten. Lord Husband only had eyes for his ‘sweet wifey’ these days, though Luo-Luo could hardly blame him. Between her lovable personality and budding womanly charms, Lin-Lin had a delightful air about her which made it impossible to dislike her no matter what she said or did.
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No matter how hard Luo-Luo tried. To think, she once believed sister Yan would be her most difficult competitor when the innocent and charming Lin-Lin had already long since won the race.
Lord Husband’s hot bath lasted almost an entire hour, but it was a much needed soak for his bruised and battered body. By the time he was finished, he almost looked like a different man with his slick, groomed hair and contented expression, striding out past the wooden dividers to greet the Divine Turtle with arms outstretched. Giggling as she lowered her head to the ground with a defeated squeak, he wrapped his arms around her beak and hugged her tight, or as close to a hug as one could get when dealing with a creature her size. Not even half the height of her head, Lord Husband was less than a nibble to the Divine Turtle, but she handled him with a gentleness that belied her strength, nuzzling him ever so slightly in response to his affections. “Sorry Ping Ping,” Lord Husband whispered, giving the ridge between her eyes a vigorous patting. “Once I sort out this shattered Core business, I’ll get you a whole pool of Chi Tea for you to drink. Promise.”
Though curious as to what he meant, Luo-Luo held her tongue for a moment, and her patience was soon rewarded. “Junior Brother,” the Abbot said, his wrinkled, hairless brow furrowed in confusion, “Am I to understand you’ve been feeding Water Chi to the Divine Turtle?”
“Yea, of course. Why do you think I called it Chi Tea to begin with? I sure as hell wasn’t drinking my bath water. Funny story, I’m pretty sure that’s how she found me in the first place too. I was meditating in a tub of water trying to bind it like a weapon, and when I opened my eyes, there she was.” Blinking owlishly while looking at the Abbot, Lord Husband said, “I swear I already told you this.” Frowning, he added, “Or maybe I meant to and forgot. I have a lot of secrets, and it’s hard to keep track of who knows what.”
“Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo.” Closing his eyes, the Abbot performed a mudra with his hands, a symbolic gesture meant to convey his emotions and facilitate the flow of breathing. This one in particular, with hands pressed together and fingers interlaced while pointing at the ground, was symbolic of a watering can and represented an overabundance of negative emotions which were gathered into the hands and subsequently poured out through the fingers. Luo-Luo sympathized with the poor Abbot, because prying information out of Lord Husband was more difficult than pulling teeth, and she felt like she’d aged more in the last year than in the six years before it.
It was long seconds before the Abbot reined in his temper, and when he opened his eyes again, he didn’t rush to speak. First, he took a deep breath, and then another, and only then did he trust himself to speak, his tone and expression devoid of all emotion. “Junior Brother, you still possess several gourds of manufactured Water Chi, correct? Might this monk take one to study?”
“Sure, I’ll just get...” Stopping once he realized the Abbot was already gone, Lord Husband scowled and muttered, “Or go get it yourself, not like I need privacy or anything.” With a long, tired sigh as if he were the aggrieved party, he turned to his escort and said, “Brother Biao, could you go make sure the Abbot doesn’t drink my Chi Tea and remind him that those three gourds may well be the key to my recovery? Thank you.” Rolling his eyes at Lin-Lin, he offered her his arm and said, “Care to join me for an early dinner?”
“Love to, hubby.”
Arm in arm the two of them went, moving slowly since Lord Husband’s injuries kept him from making proper use of his walker, so it was up to Lin-Lin to help him along. Uncharacteristically, Li-Li also stepped in to help, leaving nothing for Luo-Luo to do besides follow obediently behind them. She didn’t even warrant an invitation, though she understood it was merely a joke, but still it would be nice if he offered his arm to her every once in a while, even if she had to slouch over to take it. They didn’t need to go far since food would be brought to them, so once Lord Husband was seated, Luo-Luo smiled and said, “Lin-Lin, Li-Li, why don’t we change before dinner?”
It didn’t take much to convince Lin-Lin since she loved dressing up for her hubby, not that he ever noticed, but Li-Li was more difficult to deal with. She only agreed to come with after Lin-Lin picked up on Luo-Luo’s aim and asked the half-cat for help with her hair, and soon enough, the three of them were picking out clothes in Luo-Luo’s yurt. “Remember,” she said while hastily throwing on a tasteful dress with various animals embroidered across it, “While Lord Husband has permission to circumvent the ban on fire for medical reasons, the rest of us do not, so it’s best if we continued eating travel rations so as not to give our enemies reason to criticize and accuse him of impropriety.”
Scrunching her nose up in ire, Lin-Lin puffed her cheeks and pouted for long seconds while Li-Li took on a similar expression, and the two traded glances before the former muttered, “Okay...” Eyes widening in hope, she asked, “Mm, what if he can’t finish his dinner? I can eat it then, ya?”
So lovable. “Certainly,” Luo-Luo said, tapping Lin-Lin gently on the nose, “But don’t tell him or else he’ll purposely eat less or try to share, and he needs to eat as much as he can.”
“Don’t worry, ya?” Grinning until her eyes were mere lines, Lin-Lin tilted her head and said, “I won’t take food from hubby’s plate until he can’t eat another bite.”
So charmed by the sweet girl, Luo-Luo forgot the other topic she wanted to discuss until they were all dressed and ready for dinner, at which point Lin-Lin skipped away ahead of them and plopped down beside Lord Husband. Luo-Luo had hoped to impose on Lin-Lin’s mercy and perhaps arrange a schedule for seating themselves beside him, or at the very least, make her plight known to Li-Li so the half-cat would give her permission to sit beside Lord Husband again. Thus far, there’d been no discernible reason for Luo-Luo to come all the way to the front lines with them, and after going through the frightening ordeal which had been her first battle, she needed to make this trip worth the effort. Despite three walls and thousands of defenders separating her from the bulk of the fighting, Luo-Luo had never been more terrified in her life, than she had been last night. Four hours of battle seemed to stretch into eternity, but looking back now, it felt like it had all passed by in an instant.
All she wanted to do was sit at Lord Husband’s side, attend to his needs while he ate his meal, and perhaps carry a conversation which had nothing to do with the war, his businesses, or his current plight. Was that so much to ask for?
So distracted by her self pity, Luo-Luo failed to notice Sister-in-Law Alsantset’s arrival and only came to her senses when a delectable scent reached her nose. Pork-bone congee with finely sliced peppered greens and a fresh fried dough fritter, a simple, yet nourishing meal to suit Lord Husband’s needs, and Luo-Luo’s heart swelled with the pride of accomplishment, even if no one remembered it was mostly her idea to begin with.
Her pride didn’t last long as she spotted the problem, one so obvious she missed it at first glance. “There’s too much food for Lord Husband to finish.” A massive pot full, in fact, enough to feed Lord Husband until his belly exploded.
“Of course,” Sister-in-Law Alsantset replied, her words thick with disdain. “The difference between cooking for one and cooking for ten is negligible, and twenty only requires a modicum of more effort.”
“But... the rules...”
“Bah.” Waving a hand in dismissal, the fierce tigress scowled and gestured at the other camps around them. “You find me an Officer in Sinuji who claims he ate a cold lunch, and I will show you a liar. If the Disciplinary Corps wants to make an issue of this, they will turn themselves into a laughing stock amongst the nobility, though they won’t be laughing for long after I demand they step up and swear they followed protocol to the letter or be punished alongside little Rain.”
“You know, that raises a good point.” Speaking around a mouthful of dough fritter, Lord Husband used the remaining piece to point at Sister-in-Law Alsantset. “I’ve been going about this all wrong. The Disciplinary Corps accused me of nepotism, so I figured my best bet was to be humble and obedient, but what’s the point? It won’t change a thing about the political climate and it gives off the impression that I’ve submitted to their judgment. Fuck that. I’m going to model myself after the average officer and take all the liberties they do. If the Justicars take issue with my actions, then I can just point out all the other violations going on and claim they’re targeting me unjustly.”
A terrible idea in Luo-Luo’s opinion, but before she could voice it, Sister-in-Law Alsantset all but shoved a bowl of hot congee into Luo-Luo’s hand and fixed her with a feral grin. “Eat now girl, before it gets cold, and when your belly is full, you will show everyone how far you have come along the Martial Path. You are one of the Bekhai, and the Bekhai have no useless Martial Warriors.”
Luo-Luo’s mind blanked in panic at the familiar, yet chilling statement. Staring at the bowl of congee in her hands, she prayed it would last forever. Though she Demonstrated the Forms every single day since sister Mila first tasked her to, Luo-Luo had yet to receive any guidance or spar with another living being. Day in and day out, she practised her modified dance routines alone, yet little had changed. She was neither stronger nor more muscular than before, and in fact had seemingly lost weight since most of her clothes needed to be taken in, so she had no idea how she was supposed to show progress when there was none to be had. Fretting over the near future, Luo-Luo ate her congee one small spoonful at a time, while everyone laughed and made merry around her, an outsider sitting alone amongst friends.
When their meal all but finished, the Abbot reappeared with gourd in hand and thrust it at Lord Husband’s chest. “Drink this, Junior Brother.”
“Uh... I’d rather not.” Carefully taking the gourd if only to keep it away from the Abbot, Lord Husband inspected the gourd for leaks or defects and said, “I don’t want to waste it, because I’ll probably need it to recover. I can’t store Chi or Heavenly Energy in my shattered Core, but like events in Sinuji proved, I can still manipulate Heavenly Energy, or more specifically the Heavenly Energy created from purified Spectres. Since we now know I can still collect Spectres, this means that once I figure out how to access my shattered Core and work out a couple other pertinent details, I can then use this Chi Tea to start the purification process and use the resulting Heavenly Energy to keep it going until I have enough to bring myself back to full fighting strength.” Seeing Luo-Luo’s disbelieving stare, he shrugged and explained, “It’s not a great plan, or even a finalized one, but it’s the best one I’ve got. I still don’t want to try until I know more, so I’d rather not waste a third of the Water Chi I have left.”
...No wonder he’d been so confident of his recovery. Why would he not share this with Luo-Luo? Had she not proven her loyalty time and time again?
“Trust in the Heavens, Junior Brother,” the Abbot said, patting his chest with confidence. “This monk believes everything happens for a reason, no matter how indecipherable said reason might be. This monk cannot explain the details in depth for fear of negatively affecting the outcome, but if you drink the water, you will soon understand.”
It look long minutes of silent deliberation before Lord Husband made a move, and when he did, he gave no warning in advance. Uncapping the gourd, he brought it up to his lips and drank deep, greedily guzzling down what must have been stale water without letting a single drop escape. Seconds stretched into eternity before the gourd was drained dry, and Lord Husband even held it upside down and shook it over his extended tongue in case there was still some water left inside. Panting as he sat in place, there was an expectant gleam in his eye as he turned his attention turned inwards for any sign of change, and...
...
......
“Nothing.” Cradling the empty gourd, Lord Husband’s despair was heartbreaking to behold as he gazed up at the confused Abbot. “Nothing happened, and now the gourd is empty.”
“Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo,” the Abbot replied, bowing his head in obvious contrition. “Perhaps... Perhaps this monk was mistaken. Ah, such pride, such sin.”
“You arrogant son of a –”
Whether it was for the sake of his pride or Lord Husband’s, the Abbot threw up a Sound Barrier which shut everyone else out, but Luo-Luo’s heart ached as she watched Lord Husband scream until his face turned red, the rage a mask to soothe his pain. That gourd had contained more than just Water Chi, for within it, held the hope for his recovery, and now he’d squandered a third of it away on a fruitless endeavour. Oh, her poor, poor beloved, he would need someone to hold him close and soothe his anger, someone’s shoulder to cry on and bosom to bury in, and –
“Come.” Pulled away from the scene by Sister-in-Law Alsantset, the woman all but stalked off towards the training grounds with Luo-Luo in tow, while Li-Li was walking ahead of them with her two guards at her sides. “Little brother will vent his anger with or without us there, and if I remain, then I might do something I will sorely regret,” the tigress said, growling through clenched teeth. “Sweet Lin will be there to cheer him up, but there is little you or I can do to affect him. He will recover, or he will not, and all we can do is protect him and prepare for the possibility of failure. To do this, we must be strong.” Looking Luo-Luo in the eye as they walked, Sister-in-Law Alsantset added, “You have the blood of Imperials, which I am told is synonymous with strength. I would like to see firsthand if this is true.”
Unsure how to answer, Luo-Luo simply nodded and clasped her mace tight, the weapon so natural hanging at her side that she often forgot it was even there. Perhaps it was true, but she doubted it mattered as much as others believed, for talent meant little in the long run. No, to become a Martial Warrior, one required a lifetime of dedication and training, so Luo-Luo feared she’d simply started too late. Regardless of her talents, she had long since decided to devote her effort to the Martial Path, so for better or worse, she would stand at Lord Husband’s side and protect him from harm, no matter who the enemy might be.
Even if the Emperor were to demand Falling Rain’s death, Zheng Luo would stand between them and say, “No”, for she was one of the Bekhai, and no Bekhai Warrior would ever surrender without a fight.
Chapter Meme