“... still too early to say for certain, but the first test subjects are responding well. I daresay your suggestion to use poultice wraps to target specific areas of the body for strengthening was inspired. It eschews so many of the pitfalls my previous body refining trials encountered, and the forearm was also a perfect subject to begin with, a pragmatic choice in that it will be useful if the trial bears fruit and minimally affected if unsuccessful. You are a clever young man with boundless prospects, even if you forever remain as you are.”

“If I see further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.” Stifling a yawn, I accept a fragrant bowl of squash and chestnut congee from Alsantset and welcome the brief respite from Taiyi ZhuShen’s overenthusiastic summary of his most recent experiments. The one-eyed Healer beams happily as he graciously accepts a bowl as well, and my sister offers a forced but polite smile in return. She’s trying to play nice, but politics is not her strong suit and her thoughts show as clear as day on her strained expression. It’s too early, with the sun barely even up, but ZhuShen woke me up at the ass-crack of dawn and has been nattering away for the better part of an hour now, like a kindly, neighbourhood grandfather who’s starved of attention and is too shameless to take a hint and leave.

Honestly though, I like ZhuShen, a cheerful, exuberant man with none of the ingrained arrogance so commonly found in the rich and powerful. Make no mistake, he ranks highly in both metrics as a dignified Healer and sole proprietor of a bustling herbal medicine enterprise, though I couldn’t tell at first glance. Luo-Luo could, quietly informing me that his tailored robes and ornate eye-patch were both embroidered with the finest silken thread money and influence can buy, a golden-coloured textile which shines with metallic lustre in the light and is sold by the centimetre for an absurd amount of coin. Halcyon silk, they call it, a luxury fibre sold only by a single eastern family of high repute, and even if you have the necessary coin, you also need the right connections to purchase this most coveted of silks, since only a limited amount is produced every year and most is sold to the Emperor to make his robes of office. Even though Taiyi Zhushen’s robes and eye-patch are only embroidered with halcyon silk, the threads used represent a veritable fortune spent over several years, if not decades, in a gruelling effort to procure enough for his purposes.

So much fuss over shiny thread. Rich people are weird.

Seriously, it would be cheaper to spin clothes out of pure gold. In raw value alone, the threads in his eye-patch are probably worth more than what I’ve spent in the entire past year, including the significant sum of coin dumped into OuYang Yuhuan’s Runic cannon crafting enterprise which has yet to bear fruit. Even when I was in the citadel, the Tyrant wasn’t big on keeping me up to date with her progress, and I’ve yet to hear from her in the thirty-five days since arriving on the front lines, but the money keeps draining out of my coffers to purchase more crafting ingredients and cannons. Given the significant expenditure, I can tell Yuhuan’s problem isn’t making the cannon explode, but rather keeping the explosion from destroying the cannon itself while retaining enough power to launch a projectile. Not the worst problem to have, and I’d love to know more, but seeing how I don’t know where she’s running her tests, I’ve no way to force Yuhuan to explain what she’s been up to or how she’s been spending my money without risking her ire. Hell, it wouldn’t surprise me to learn she doesn’t even know I’m in Sinuji, much less no longer in the citadel, but such is the price one pays when working with a powerful, eccentric genius who literally killed her way to the top.

As much as I want Taduk to find his special someone, I really hope it’s not Yuhuan, because she is terrifying. Then again, after punching her way out of a shark, Guard Leader established herself as a force to be reckoned with and is even more intimidating than the nipple-pierced Tyrant. Guard Leader’s overwhelming strength might have something to do with why Taduk’s been single for all this time, because I doubt the veiled, shark-exploding beauty is one to take rejection well. Any woman who captures my Teacher’s affections had best be strong enough to stand against her, and considering how respectful Akanai was around her, I suspect nothing short of a Divinity can stand against Guard Leader, and even that might not be enough. While I didn’t see any bestial traits and she lacks the amber eyes of a pure-blooded member of the People, this isn’t enough to rule out the possibility of Guard Leader being an Ancestral Beast or Human Divinity, which means I should probably be more polite.

Yanno… maybe I’ve been reading their relationship wrong… Maybe Guard Leader isn’t Taduk’s lover, but his mother, the Ancestral Cloud Chaser Hare herself. Lin’s mom too possibly, considering how protective she is of my sweet wifey. Oh, gross thought: What if Guard Leader is Taduk’s mother and his lover? Ancestral Beasts are said to function largely on instinct, and young, half-beast Taduk might not have known any better. Ew. Definitely not wincest. Or maybe it is. I haven’t seen Guard Leader’s face, which really shouldn’t have any bearing on my verdict, but somehow, still does.

“Ha! Standing on the shoulders of giants, I understand. Clever and humble, the Medical Saint found himself a most admirable pupil, what fortune and luck.” Pulling me out of my perverted thoughts with a hearty chuckle, ZhuShen slurps down a mouthful of piping hot congee and sighs in contentment. “Then there’s your sister, this beautiful culinary artist here. Why if I were eighty years younger, I would propose marriage here and now after one taste of her cooking. Sublime, utterly sublime, oh if only I were so blessed to eat such divine cooking every day. Even the best chefs in Central can hardly compare.”

The heartfelt compliment brings a genuine smile to Alsantset’s face as she invites him for a proper meal in a more civilized setting once all this is over, an invitation the aged Healer-slash-merchant happily accepts. My sister is a strange woman; compliment her beauty alone and she’ll bare her fangs, but compliment her cooking and she’s sweet as sugar, blushing like a schoolgirl in front of her first love. Idly wondering how Charok and the twins are holding up, I stir my congee and wait for it to cool while bringing the conversation back on topic. “Getting back to body strengthening, it’s good that you’ve scaled back your experiments to conduct targeted testing instead of full-body from the get-go, but I think there’s more to be explored. I’ve been asking around for anecdotes about Spiritual Beasts and more specifically the texture of their skin, and I’ve noticed most share a common vein. Though tough and resilient, their skins are almost universally described as supple and malleable regardless of species and even long after their deaths. My father and grandmother possess a matching set of leather armour crafted from the skin of a megalodon slain off the coast of Shen Bin, and the armour is sturdy enough to ward off a blow from a Reinforced Martial Warrior while barely restricting movement. While not a Spiritual Heart, the beast’s skin exhibits none of the flaws you mentioned your disciples experienced, most notably the loss of flexibility and dexterity.”

“Hai... Truly my greatest regret.” Pausing with bowl half-raised to his lips, ZhuShen deflates before my eyes, a man haunted by his past mistakes. “Such promising young warriors, ruined by my own hand.”

“Well, maybe not. I looked over your notes and noticed your medicinal baths were acidic in nature, sort of a full-body chemical exfoliation of sorts, except cranked up to eleven.”

Feeling the need to clarify his thought process, ZhuShen explains, “Given how callouses form on skin which has been repeatedly abraded and the molting process snakes and many lizards go through to grow, I foolishly believed this natural process could be harnessed to toughen the entire body, but I failed to take into account how human skin would only stretch so far. The experiments succeeded, but while their flesh became resilient enough to turn aside sharpened steel blades, their bodies were left stiff and inflexible due to the thick callouses and scar tissue, not to mention the pain which comes with the latter. My first three Disciples to partake in my foolishness steeped far too long in the baths, and the medicine soaked deep into their bodies to affect their blood vessels and even their inner organs, but I noticed too late to reverse the damage. To make matters worse, their symptoms have exacerbated with time, and now my eldest no longer moves without assistance. Not because he is physically unable to, no, but because any abrupt movements might cause internal tearing and tissue damage.”

Steel skin sounds cool and all, but reality is not so kind. In high society, Taiyi ZhuShen is something of a joke, a wealthy mad scientist with more money than sense, but personally, I think his reputation is unwarranted. Sure, he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed and he’s made more than his fair share of missteps, but the world only knows because he owned up to his mistakes instead of sweeping them under the rug. Were he your standard, arrogant noble, I suspect ZhuShen’s Disciples would’ve long since been eliminated and testing continued in secret on less fortunate Warriors or even civilians, but the one-eyed Healer has taken care of each and every one of his people, some for more than half a century. Sad, but admirable. Sliding a prescription over to ZhuShen while praying he doesn’t ask to see the original letter, I paraphrase my teacher’s words so as not to give offense. “I wrote to my Teacher as I said I would, and the reply arrived last night. He said that while your concept of body strengthening holds merit, he postulates that any form of durability achieved through external aid will ultimately fall short of natural defenses developed by Spiritual Beasts, and might even become more hindrance than aid further down the Martial Path.” His exact words were ‘like lifting a brick just to smash your own foot’, but I did what I could to pretty it up. “That said, he offered the following prescription and said it might help alleviate some of your Disciple’s symptoms, without adversely affecting their… heightened durability.”

While ZhuShen looks over the prescription, I sit back and answer his deluge of questions to the best of my meager abilities. Taduk didn’t come up with the prescription out of thin air, but rather based it on one he used to treat a chronic skin problem he came across earlier in his career, an affliction which shares many of the same symptoms suffered by ZhuShen’s Disciples. It’s no cure, but the treatments listed in Taduk’s letter should help manage the problem by reducing swelling and pain while improving blood-flow to impaired areas. Why exactly the latter would help is beyond my knowledge, but ZhuShen immediately curses himself for not thinking of it sooner, all the while hanging onto my every word. Originally, I’d intended to keep this last part to myself because I didn’t agree with Taduk’s reasoning or want to encourage ZhuShen to keep trying, but seeing the hope rekindling in the aged Healer’s one good eye, I can’t help but add, “Teacher said I should remind you that extremes in nature are most often the exception to the rule, rather than the norm, and that as children of the Mother, we must seek Balance in all things, even in body-strengthening. An acidic bath followed by a soak in some form of hydrating, restorative solution might keep hardened callouses and scar tissue from forming, much like how a sword is tempered in the flames then quenched in oil, though he cautions that this is merely his unfounded conjecture. In closing, he adds, ‘Durability is not synonymous with hardness. The rigid redwood breaks in the windstorm, but the supple willow bends and endures’.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Hai...” Shaking his head in admiration, ZhuShen sinks back in his chair with a smile. “Truly worthy of the Medical Saint. A single, second-hand correspondence is all he needs to see through the issues which have plagued me for decades, and he even slips in a lesson for his beloved student as well.” Seeing my confusion, he clarifies, “The redwood and the willow. I suspect these words were more for your benefit than mine.” Politely pretending not to notice my continued confusion, ZhuShen puts his empty bowl aside and clears his throat before Sending, “I applaud and admire your courage for standing in solidarity with your soldiers, but now comes a time when you must bend or break. The Enemy army is but a day’s march away, if that, and even with the reinforcements which are soon to arrive, I fear Sinuji will not hold against a million screaming Defiled. Given your… lacking mobility, perhaps it’s time you authorized someone else to command your slaves while you made your way back to the citadel ahead of the coming conflict. Remaining here will accomplish nothing except place you and your guards in mortal danger. Pride will cost you everything young Rain, so like all bitter medicine, it’s best to swallow it fast and move on.”

I can see why he thinks it’s a bad idea for me to stick around, but he doesn’t have all the information. Technically, neither should I, but considering the circumstances, it’d be hard to keep me in the dark. Even knowing what I know, I’d be lying if I said the idea of leaving never crossed my mind, but so long as Dastan and his people are stuck on the front lines, then I will stand beside them. My pride and honour demands it, plus Kuang Biao all but guaranteed my safety, though I doubt he’d be so confident if he knew he was facing an eight-hundred year old Imperial Scion turned meat-puppet master. Regardless, I stick to my guns and tell ZhuShen I’ll remain in Sinuji until I receive orders to the contrary, and he exits gracefully after failing to change my mind the second time around, leaving me free to go back to sleep while Alsantset drags the reluctant Luo-Luo away for their daily spar.

Minutes later, mere seconds after my head touches my pillow, Red One puts an end to my dreams of slumber to inform me that Tam Taewoong is here to visit, so I grudgingly roll out of my bedroll to attend to an uninvited guest for the second time this morning. Unsurprisingly, the Benevolent Asura is also here to convince me to leave before the Defiled arrive, but what’s surprising is that he even tells me through Sending that Not-Gen is riding at the head of the Enemy army. While I already knew this because Alsantset told me as soon as she heard from Nian Zu, Taewoong sharing this information is in violation of military law since Lieutenant Colonel Watanabe expressly forbade all Officers from informing the rank and file of Not-Gen’s presence. Most wouldn’t think twice about ignoring orders to tell me, but not Tam Taewoong, a model soldier and Warrant Officer of the Imperial Army, and especially not for someone who’s barely an acquaintance like myself.

Touched as I am by the gesture, I inform him I have no intention of abandoning my people or neglecting my duties, while also trying to hint that things are not as dire as they might seem. I can’t Send and am under way too much scrutiny to go divulging military secrets, but regardless of how I approach the matter, Taewoong refuses to believe I’m staying in Sinuji of my own free will. To be fair, I wouldn’t believe me either if I were in his shoes, but after emphatically attempting to persuade me for some time and getting absolutely nowhere, he eventually gives up and pledges to do what little he can to help keep me alive while we clasp hands in parting.

A touching sentiment, even though I doubt his help will even be necessary. Colonel Hongji has this all on lockdown, and he isn’t even here.

Before I can even think about going back to the warm comfort of my bedroll, I’m informed I have yet another visitor, this time the matronly Healer Lishan Suzhen. Never one to mince words, she updates me on the latest news with regards to her efforts to create a workable syringe using hollow bird bones and inflated animal bladders. I have no idea how a workable syringe would even be possible, but she still drops by from time to time to see what I might say. Even though I’ve little to add, she’s making decent strides on her own and even throws in a tantalizing piece of information at the end: one of her colleagues from the South described a tree native to her home village which might be of interest to Suzhen, because it produces a sticky, milky sap which reeks to high heaven and could be used to form an air and water tight seal between two tubes without creating too much friction. This tree sap, which the children collect to fashion balls and the locals use to waterproof fabrics, sounds suspiciously like natural rubber, which means it won’t be long before I have a giant ball for Ping Ping to play with, not to mention all the other cool stuff that comes with rubber.

Like… well, honestly, I don’t really know how useful rubber would be. I just want to teach the Guardian Turtle to play fetch.

Once we hit a natural lull in our conversation, the stern woman sits back in her chair and studies me from over her teacup. “You are a clever young man,” she says, though not in a complimentary fashion. “Perhaps too clever for your own good. I’ve no doubt you’ve all sorts of plans and contingencies set in place should the worst come to pass, but man proposes and Heaven disposes. Even the best-laid plans can go awry, so if you should need aid, know that I will lend what I can. This I so pledge, on my honour and the honour of my family.”

While not a Heavenly Oath, Suzhen’s promise is as good as gold because that’s the type of person she is. Grateful for her support and saving me the need to explain my stance for a third time today, I offer her a martial salute and bow in my chair, but only because standing up would be seen as ending the meeting early and therefore rude. With Luo-Luo’s constant reminders, I’m starting to get the hang of this manners thing, and in another decade, I might even be competent.

Without another word, Lishan Suzhen stands up and pats my cheek before signaling that there’s no need to see her out, because shortly after, the third-most senior Healer in Sinuji arrives unannounced to take her place. Declining my offer of a fresh pot of tea, the stocky, swarthy Taokang Geyan takes a brief sip and nibbles on a pastry for the sake of propriety before setting both cup and plate aside. “Your Death Corps guards,” he Sends, making an effort not to look at Kuang Biao in particular. “Do you trust them?”

“About as far as I can throw them,” I reply, wishing I could Send back. The Death Corps are loyal, but not to me. They’ll protect me as long as the Emperor deems it necessary, but if certain individuals carrying the proper tokens, like say the Legate and his Imperial Fan, were to order my death, then Red One would gladly lop my head off without hesitation, as would any other member of my Death Corps honour guard.

Hell, Kuang Biao would probably even smile while doing it.

“Good.” Nodding in approval, the portly Western Healer Sends, “It is this Geyan’s greatest regret he was not in the province when it fell to the Enemy, else he would be there fighting the Enemy instead of sitting here in Sinuji like a turtle hiding in its shell. While here, he saw with his own eyes how you, a mere boy, rose to the occasion to throw back the Enemy, first while out on patrol and again on the fields of Sinuji. He saw how you brought yourself back from the brink of death even after sustaining such grievous injuries, and it grates on this Geyan’s nerves to see a true Hero of the Empire treated so poorly, tossed to the wayside after giving so much to this Empire. The Imperials have made a habit of this in recent times, and…” Furrowing his brow, he lets the thought trail off before leaning forward as if to whisper into my ear even though we’re speaking through Sending. “Have you the means to pass a message to your Grand-Mentor without alerting your Death Corps guards?”

Instead of nodding, I try my hand at subtlety and smile wryly at the ignored snacks, leftovers from my first meeting this morning and all other meetings which followed. “My apologies for the lackluster fare. Were my sister not busy training at the sparring fields, she would cook you a meal fit for a king. Why, earlier today, distinguished Healer Taiyi ZhuShen lauded her culinary skills for all to hear.”

Thankfully, the swarthy Healer picks up what I’m throwing down and we make small talk for a short time before he excuses himself from my table, no doubt in a rush to speak with Alsantset about whatever this might be. Even as he disappears from my sight, he Sends, “Have courage, little friend. The night is darkest before the dawn, but know that you have allies where you least suspect it.”

A bit cryptic, but I suppose the gist of it is he’s here to help, though I kinda already figured it out when he came by to visit. While not as concerned as Taiyi ZhuShen, emphatic as Tam Taewoong, or supportive as Lishan Suzhen, Taokang Geyan means well and probably suspects Akanai has been kept in the dark about the oncoming Defiled Army, else she would’ve pulled my ass out of here the minute she found out. Sadly, that’s not how the People operate, and Akanai less so, as she was always more than happy to let me step and stumble into every pothole and pitfall, if only to teach me humility. Hell, I bet if things were going too well, she’d have thrown a wrench into the works just to see me suffer, because suffering builds character.

…

Could it be that this is one of those pitfalls I’m supposed to avoid? Like, a legitimate situation in which I am supposed to ask for help? If I did, would Akanai tell me to get my ass back to the citadel, or maybe even start heading north?

To top it all off, even Lieutenant Hondou Masahige stops by, though only to warn me about leaving in an unenthusiastic monotone, no doubt forced to do so by Watanabe. “A friendly reminder. During the sentencing of Dastan Zhandos and his traitor retinue, you were also conscripted into the army as a private. As such, you are to remain on station in Sinuji until such a time as you are relieved of duty or given orders to the contrary. Passing control of your slaves to another will not absolve you of your obligations, and should you leave your post without permission, you will be charged with dereliction of duty for which the punishment is to be hung by the neck until dead.”

“Yea, I figured as much, but I had no intention of leaving anyways.” Ignoring Masahige’s disbelief, I turn my gaze westward towards Zhen Shi even though the fort walls and tens of kilometers stand between us. “I’ve an old score to settle, a debt to collect on, and I wouldn’t miss this chance for the world.”

“Mother in Heaven...” Shaking his head, Masahige asks, “You mean it, don’t you? You really mean it.”

Unsure if he’s impressed by my bravery or shocked by my idiocy, I merely shrug and salute him as his rank deserves. I’m still not entirely convinced he’s sympathetic to my cause, but he’s definitely not on my side, that’s for sure. Masahige looks out for himself, first and foremost, and I doubt anything I do will ever change him. Once he leaves, I turn my gaze to Kuang Biao and study the Royal Guardian turned Death Corps Guard. At two meters and change, he’s tall, but not ridiculously so, with a frame so slender one could easily mistake him for a good-for-nothing silk pants if he were out of armour. Handsome, but all Martial Warriors are, meaning his chiseled features hardly stand out from the crowd. There’s nothing in his appearance that hints at his prowess, nothing remarkable about him, which makes his skill all the more impressive. Most genius warriors would be overcome with ego, but not Kuang Biao, a cold, calculating man who has yet to slip and show me his true colors.

On a whim, I ask, “So where do you stand? Four people I respect came to warn me to leave, while the Lieutenant Colonel’s mouthpiece ordered me to stay. Not exactly a close call, but every vote counts.”

“Stay.” There’s no joy in his eyes, no satisfaction from seeing me in my plight, not even a smirk to tease me about my impending doom. “Matters are progressing exactly as expected.”

A statement which for some reason leaves me more frightened than reassured, because I know he doesn’t mean they’re going well for me. I’m merely a pawn, but somehow I feel like we’re all pieces on the Legate’s chessboard, and I’ve yet to figure out what his goal is, much less his plan.

Well, it’s too late to do anything about it now except wait. Seeing how it’s a reasonable hour, the monks are probably finished with their morning chants and self-flagellation, so maybe I’ll go see what Jorani is up to and maybe even make friends with Kukku. I hope so, because if things go south, I might need the giant chicken’s help to get out of Sinuji in one piece.

Hmm… how big is the range on Kukku’s dreaming? Is he strong enough to put a million Defiled to sleep? Or even half-a-million?

...Doubt it. The Demon formerly known as Vivek Daatei only had a range of a few dozen meters, and there’s no way life would ever be so easy. Not for Falling Rain, the Mother’s Chosen whipping boy.

Chapter Meme