Though drained, dishevelled, and disoriented, Luo-Luo couldn’t remember a time when she’d been more relaxed and carefree.

It wasn’t that she had nothing to concern herself with at the moment. Quite the contrary, in fact, as she’d never been busier, for not only was she upon the cusp of discovering something significant regarding her Martial Path, Lord Husband also stood at the crossroads of disaster and greatness and required her expertise to help him navigate through it. Together, they were headed to the Central Citadel, where this banquet might well be a chance to clear his name and show the Empire he was hale and healthy as any normal citizen, which meant there was hope aplenty for the future ahead. Conversely, it was also a chance for their enemies to brand him as a cripple and a failure, or worse, someone unworthy of his supposedly falsified reputation. Thus, it was imperative he make the right impression not only during the banquet, but in every public appearance from now until word of his good health spread across the provinces. According to MuYang’s encrypted notes, placed in her hands by Junior Yimu as she left the dining room to freshen up for the journey, Shen ZhenWu’s enemies and Lord Husband’s detractors had launched a campaign of slander and defamation against Falling Rain and the Bekhai, so Luo-Luo would have enough work to contend with without adding Lord Husband’s disreputable shenanigans to the mix.

It was a tall order, asking Lord Husband to behave, and Luo-Luo was all but expecting him to do something disastrous, because it would take a miracle to make Falling Rain understand the importance of face and reputation. So naive and idealistic, this straightforward young hero, believing that his actions and accomplishments would speak louder than a million tongues whispering about his gaffes and indiscretions. Perhaps they would, had he the right reputation, but heroes were meant to be admired, and Lord Husband’s actions made it difficult for even the lowliest peasant to look up to him.

A disadvantage which only had a little to do with his lacking physical height.

Giggling into her notes, she admonished herself for being ungenerous. Lord Husband was an exemplary man worthy of honour and adoration, except he valued neither, and therein lay the root to all his problems. In his eyes, face was stupid, honour meaningless, fame bothersome, and reputation irrelevant, so he disregarded the unwritten rules of society and did everything in a way which suited his tastes. Granted, his approach wasn’t entirely without merit, and considering his astonishing achievements in both battle and economics, it might even have worked if he’d been born to an Imperial Noble, or maybe the son of a popular Marshal or Colonel General. Unfortunately, his behaviour and appearance were both too foreign and unfamiliar for most citizens of the Empire to relate to, accept, or emulate, so it fell to Luo-Luo to change things for the better.

A monumental task to be sure, but the Mother always leaves a path to salvation.

Thus, when Luo-Luo stepped out of the manor and saw the beautifully crafted carriage she personally helped design hitched to a team of six cattle, she didn’t despair and renounce all hope. Instead, she sighed, smiled, and ordered Junior Yimu to switch the cattle out for the team of horses she had stabled nearby, purchased in preparation for this very day. Mother-in-Law Sarnai looked none too pleased by the delay, but she held her tongue since she too understood the need, and by Lord Husband’s own admission, the Marshal and Colonel General had already been waiting for over an hour, so they could stand to wait five minutes more.

A fearsome dragon, Mother-in-Law Sarnai, but so long as Luo-Luo had Lord Husband’s best interests in mind, then his formidable mother would support her.

At least Lord Husband had the grace to look ashamed. “Sorry. I didn’t know you’d already bought draft horses,” he explained, even though Luo-Luo had yet to offer even the barest hint of reproach. “I didn’t even think about it until last night, when Kuang Biao told me the warhorses wouldn’t take well to a wagon harness.”

Instead of lecturing him about how he should have reached out to Junior Yimu or reiterating the importance of image and perception, Luo-Luo merely offered an understanding smile and conciliatory nod, as if to say these minor details were beneath him and it was her fault for being absent. Granted, he should feel ashamed, because it wasn’t like he didn’t understand that cattle were viewed as peasant animals and he’d be laughed out of high society if he arrived in a cattle-drawn carriage. Mother knows the issue could have been easily solved, as he could have written a single letter and had a hundred draft horses delivered to his door as gifts, but he simply didn’t care about outsider opinions and saw this as an opportunity to show off his sweet, adorable pets.

The cattle were oh so darling and affectionate, but Lord Husband was already fighting an uphill battle and needed every advantage he could get. Besides, horses were beautiful creatures and could also be affectionate, but Lord Husband was a poor horseman and scorned their use. It seemed ungenerous of him to pick and choose which animals to love, but at least now they knew he had limits. Left to his own devices, he was his own worst enemy, but Luo-Luo was too tired to lecture or bandy words with him for now. Oddly enough, her gentle response actually made him apologize again and look away in embarrassment, while her recriminations would have made him dig in his heels and defend his decision. How strange. Knowing his penchant for strong warrior women, Luo-Luo had thought she would have to be strong and domineering to sway his opinions, but perhaps the soft approach would have more effect...

It wasn’t quite the same as making moon-eyes at dumplings like Lin-Lin suggested, but perhaps Lord Husband could be convinced to behave after all..

Putting aside these thoughts for another day, Luo-Luo took the time to admire the fruits of her labour. A stately vehicle sure to be the envy of all, Lord Husband’s new carriage was merely the first step in her comprehensive plan to improve Falling Rain’s public image. As a nod to his Bekhai roots and newfangled Imperial status, she commissioned the carriage to be made from thousand-year-old Shen Mu heartwood, though this batch had grown naturally in the Bekhai mountains, rather than in or around the unfortunate city itself. A dense, knotted hardwood famed for its ability to resist warping from changing temperature, young Shen Mu evergreens were widely used in all facets of Northern woodworking, from furniture and decorations to ships and architecture.

Shen Mu heartwood however, was a luxury good, so rare and expensive Luo-Luo had gone apoplectic with shock when she found it listed amongst incoming Bekhai military contributions. Compared to the hardy and reliable outer-wood, Shen Mu heartwood was an entirely different beast. Once treated and polished, its radiance was comparable to ZhenGui rosewood, a wood so rare and expensive it was forbidden to any except the highest echelons of Imperial Peerage. While Shen Mu heartwood lacked the dense, wavy grain lines of Zhen Gui rosewood and bore a smooth, and frankly plain surface, it had the same golden brown hue and even exhibited a pleasant fragrance without affecting the hardy features which made it so popular for construction.

All of this put together meant Lord Husband’s carriage was beautiful, functional, and most importantly of all, sturdy.

Since the lumber was in such high demand, Shen Mu trees were usually harvested after ten or twenty years of growth, when they were too young to have developed any proper heartwood, so a single hundred-year old Shen Mu heartwood could sell for at least a thousand gold. Luo-Luo couldn’t even begin to place a value on a thousand-year old tree, and the Bekhai had almost given several of them away as basic construction materials. The Saint’s Tribulation Mountains was a literal treasure trove of natural resources, and Luo-Luo looked forward to helping her people take advantage of what they had, but again, this was a matter for another day. Today, she could take pride in her efforts, for this carriage was a veritable work of art, thanks in no small part to Lord Husband’s brother Charok.

Though she’d seen his handiwork in the form of clever mechanical puppets and realistic carved sculptures, Luo-Luo had been leery about letting Brother-in-Law Charok work with such expensive materials, even though everyone else in the household assured her that there was no better man for the job. Thankfully, instead of taking offence at her doubts like Sister-in-Law Alsantset seemed to, Brother-in-Law Charok carved a proof-of-concept for her to evaluate and she was once again amazed by the hidden depths of Bekhai talent. His work spoke for itself in the bas-relief carvings on either side of the carriage, twin depictions of ferocious wildcats so realistic they had Aurie gently patting the unfamiliar animals in an effort to get them to come down and play. A third wildcat was displayed prominently at the front, sitting primly as the figurehead of the entire carriage with an uncanny resemblance to Sarankho’s poise and posture, the most proper of Lord Husband’s adorable wildcats. The bears were also portrayed in Brother-in-Law Charok’s work, standing on their hind legs on either side of the back of the carriage, so detailed one could run their hands over the carvings and feel each individual strand of fur. Roosequins, cattle, birds, rabbits, and all other manner of creatures were also depicted throughout the carriage, so natural and detailed it felt like they might come to life and run, jump, or soar away.

And literally and figuratively topping off the carriage was the stunning likeness of the Guardian Turtle, reminding the world of Lord Husband’s other lofty status, Attendant to the Divine Turtle.

All in all, it made for a noble and stately carriage which surpassed even the marshal’s elegant black and silver carriage, or the stately gold and black juggernaut belonging to Colonel General Nian Zu. Once her matching team of chestnut horses were hitched and ready to go, Luo-Luo believed this carriage could rival or surpass Shen Zhen Wu’s three Zhengui rosewood palanquins in beauty, if not opulence, though she would never voice such a thought out loud.

And Mother help the Empire if assassins should ruin this beautiful work of art before Lord Husband arrived safely in the Central Citadel, for Luo-Luo would raze cities and salt the earth in her quest for bloody vengeance.

Thankfully, the Bekhai had plenty of thousand year old trees, so Luo-Luo had commissioned three such carriages as backups. Brother-in-Law Charok had also worked his magic with the other two, covering them in depictions of heroic warriors and epic battles rather than the animals Lord Husband loved so much, and Luo-Luo hoped to convince him to use one of the other carriages for business and to keep the animal one for personal use. Unfortunately, seeing how delighted he was by Aurie’s antics and the Guardian Turtle’s curious expression, she realized it was probably a lost cause and decided to spend her efforts elsewhere.

In matters of diplomacy, there were times when it was necessary to take a step back in order to move forward...

Boarding the carriage with her head held high, she took her seat with Sorya and Anrhi on either side, while Mother-in-Law Sarnai and Lord Husband took the seat across from them. Brother-in-Law Charok boarded a second carriage with his wife and children, while Lin-Lin, Mila, and Song took the last carriage with Medical Saint Taduk. Most gratifying of all was Grandfather Du’s look of envy as he and Yan boarded his perfectly serviceable carriage, one which would be considered ornate in any other company, and Luo-Luo made a note to gift him with one of the newer vehicles still in construction, for there were still plenty of more to come.

Stolen story; please report.

Then Aurie, Jimjam, seven rabbits, and a giant bird followed her into her carriage, and Luo-Luo made another note to see what could be done about adding more room in future iterations. Perhaps some space on the outside for the animals to lay down and enjoy the breeze, seeing how Aurie and Jimjam were both unsuccessfully attempting to stick their head out the same window on the opposite side.

“Hello Roc,” Lord Husband cooed, shuffling Mama Bun around in his arms to make room on his crowded lap for the rotund bird. “Are you coming with us to the Central Citadel? My poor, sweet feathery floof, you must be bored up in your roost with no eggs to keep warm.”

Deciding it was best to let him indulge with his pets while he still could, Luo-Luo asked Junior Yimu to make certain Lord Husband’s animals were all present and accounted for before moving out. A minute later, he returned with a plump, white rabbit in hand, which he passed through the open window before she thought to close it. Accepting sweet George with a smile (it had to be George, because the other all-white bunnies were smart enough to follow their favoured people), she settled into her cushions as Lord Husband’s entourage finally set out for the southern gates, escorted by Death Corps Guards, Bekhai outriders, and a small contingent of light cavalry led by none other than Dastan Zhandos himself.

Exotic Bekhai Khishigs riding side by side with familiar Imperial soldiers and iconic Death Corps guards, a perfect blend of the familiar, the unfamiliar, and the extraordinary, which was exactly the image Lord Husband needed to project.

Much to the wildcats disappointment, Lord Husband’s carriage was to remain shuttered and closed at all times while in transit, mostly in the interest of safety, so they soon settled down to nap instead. As the carriage pulled to a stop at what Luo-Luo assumed was the southern gate, she felt it prudent to remind Mother-in-Law Sarnai to smooth things over with the Marshal and Colonel General through Sending, since she showed no sign of stepping out to speak with them herself. Thankfully, before Luo-Luo risked her neck suggesting Mother-in-Law should offer an apology for their tardiness, the Colonel General himself addressed Luo-Luo through Sending, instructing her to instruct Lord Husband on proper protocol and behaviour before arriving in the Central Citadel, five days from today.

More work to be done, but not as much as the Colonel General might suspect. Lord Husband was a quick study and understood what proper behaviour entailed, but his issue was caring enough to put what he learned into practice. Still, this gave Luo-Luo the perfect opportunity to ask Mother-in-Law Sarnai to convey a message to the Colonel General, telling him that Luo-Luo would do her best to pass on her knowledge to Lord Husband, and that she was gravely remorseful for keeping the esteemed Colonel General and Marshal waiting for so long. Mother-in-Law Sarnai was neither unreasonable nor uncultured, merely rough around the edges and somewhat standoffish with strangers, so there was no doubt in Luo-Luo’s mind that she would pick up on the hint and offer the Colonel General an apology of her own.

Truth be told, Mother-in-law Sarnai was more bark than bite, and quite warm and affectionate once one moved past her prickly, cantankerous exterior. This was not at all unlike Lord Husband himself, who wasn’t as outright hostile, but had a standoffish way about him which made others feel unwelcome and unwanted in his presence. It took almost a year for Luo-Luo to realize it was because Lord Husband felt anxious around strangers, but this was easily mistaken for pride or arrogance by others less familiar with his mannerisms. To make matters worse, he could be so charismatic when he wanted to that it made his aloof, anti-social mannerisms seem like an intentional snub, when nothing could be further from the truth.

Convincing Lord Husband to be friendlier to strangers was all but impossible, so Luo-Luo intended to tackle the problem from a different angle. Instead of forcing him to interact with strangers, she would show the Empire his better features, namely his filial piety. Though clearly adopted, he was as close to his mother as one could possibly be, no doubt due to their mutual love of animals. The two of them leaned on one another while making sure all the rabbits were safe, comfortable, and well-fed on the cushions so the two wildcats had room to lay down and sleep, all without asking if Luo-Luo was comfortable as well. It was no coincidence so many animals had followed her into this carriage, and Luo-Luo suspected more would have joined them if Yan and Song hadn’t thought to carry a few away. The bears were enamoured with the twins now, and Sarankho had always been attached to Song by the hip, but the rest of the animals clearly favoured Lord Husband and Mother-in-Law Sarnai, if only because they were the most liberal with their treats.

Especially Mother-in-Law Sarnai, whose belt pouches appeared to hold an inexhaustible supply of dried fruits, smoked meats, and other such treats for children and animals alike. What confused Luo-Luo the most was how Mother-in-Law Sarnai obviously favoured her daughter-in-law Alsantset over her other adopted child Charok, but she suspected it might have something to do with his lacklustre warrior talents.

Poor Charok. Adopted into a military family and wedded to a warrior wife, with an outstanding father, mother, and even younger brother to outshine him, when all he wanted to do was cook and carve. Well, things might change soon enough once Luo-Luo let slip that Falling Rain’s brother was the master craftsman who single-handedly decorated these beautiful carriages, because talented artists were always in high demand.

Putting Lord Husband’s brother’s woes aside, Luo-Luo went over her plans to trot Lord Husband out with his mother on his arm and show everyone what a filial son he was, so close most men of the Empire would be ashamed to show it. Not Lord Husband though, who was happy to sit and snuggle with his Mother while his beautiful, affection-starved courtesan sat across from him...

Cuddling sweet George a little tighter, Luo-Luo swallowed her anger and continued going over her plans. Filial piety was held in high regard by the common people and it would help boost his reputation, especially if someone reminded the masses that many a noble had carried out patricide, matricide, and other various forms of familicide to get where they were today. MuYang already had his people in place at the Central Citadel, spreading whispers of dastardly deeds carried out by Lord Husband’s greatest detractors. Most prominently featured was the outspoken, fiery-tempered Situ Patriarch Rang Min, who was rumoured to have murdered his own paternal grandfather in order to seize the reins of power away from the black sheep of the Situ Clan, Colonel General Nian Zu.

Was there any truth to the rumours MuYang had uncovered? Unlikely, but Luo-Luo almost preferred it this way. Perhaps if their enemies learned how it felt to hear slanderous lies and deceits on the tongues of strangers, then they would not be so quick to use the same tactics in the future. Doubtful though, since this would require the semblance of a conscience, but either way, Luo-Luo was pleased by the symmetry in using their opponent’s tactics against them.

Hours passed in this quiet manner, with Luo-Luo nodding in and out of consciousness, Anrhi and Sorya gossiping in whispers, and Mother-in-Law Sarnai chatting idly about nothing with dutiful Lord Husband. Something about figuring it out, Scrying, alerting, and adorable eating expressions which amused Lord Husband and infuriated Mother-in-Law to no end, but in her fugue, half-asleep state, Luo-Luo couldn’t make heads nor tails of their conversation. Still, if she could show this exact scene to the entire Empire, everyone would be singing praises of how Falling Rain was so patient and understanding with his irascible and irritable, but ultimately loving mother.

Mother-in-Law Sarnai wasn’t terribly difficult to get along with, but she seemed that way to most, so Luo-Luo would take whatever advantage she could.

When their convoy stopped for lunch, Luo-Luo stepped out for a much needed stretch and noted a waiting Death Corps Guard carrying a chamber pot for poor Lord Husband’s use, much to the amusement of his friends who’d come to visit, namely Situ Jia Zian, Han BoShui, and Tong Da Fung. Apparently the Colonel General himself had forbidden Lord Husband from leaving his carriage, so Luo-Luo prayed to the Mother Above to guide his aim true and thanked Her for Shen Mu heartwood’s pleasant fragrance before heading over to where Brother-in-Law Charok was busy handing out meals he’d prepared in advance.

“Luo-Luo, Luo-Luo!” Greeting her with a beautiful smile, sweet Tali jumped into Luo-Luo’s arms and asked, “Come sit with me after lunch, ya? We can play the pipa and sing songs.”

Glancing at Sister-in-Law Alsantset first to make sure it was okay, Luo-Luo happily agreed and dispatched the closest Death Corps guard to fetch their instruments, four of them in total. Since teaching one person was no different from teaching three, Sorya and Anrhi were also learning to play, and after her extended stay at the bamboo grove, Luo-Luo was itching to get her hands on an instrument. While her zither would be best, the portable pipa would have to do, though the instrument had a limited range and only four strings to pluck, which was far from enough for her tastes.

In an unexpected display of trust, Sister-in-Law Alsantset brought her husband and son away with her to sit in Lord Husband’s carriage, leaving sweet Tali’s safety in Luo-Luo’s unqualified hands. Sure, they had ten-thousand soldiers escorting them, led by Living Legend Colonel General Nian Zu himself, who was accompanied by Lieutenant General Situ Jia Yang and Major General Han BoHai, not to mention how Grandpa Du was also a decorated Lieutenant General and a Living Legend himself, albeit one famed for his teaching skills rather than combat capabilities, though his carriage was travelling right beside Tali’s and would be in position to help if the worst should come to pass, not to mention Mother-in-Law Sarnai and the Medical Saint were only a hop and a skip away, and surely they would all have plenty of warning if there were danger ahead but...

This was more responsibility than Luo-Luo could handle. Finances and politics were one thing, but keeping sweet Tali safe in case of an enemy attack?

“Luo-Luo, I forget what comes next.” Reminding herself to be strong for the children, Luo-Luo put on a smile and played the next part of the cheery little tune for Tali to hear, which set the bears to happily gurgling in delight. Pouting and puffing at the silly little bears, Tali hugged her pipa and asked, “How come they’re so happy when you play, Luo-Luo? They never laugh when I play.”

“I’m sorry sweetling,” Luo-Luo replied, and in truth, she really was. Tali was a talented musician, even though she couldn’t sing to save her life, but much of her motivation came from seeing Luo-Luo charm animals with her music. “I don’t know why the bears laugh at my music. Maybe they think I’m silly.” More likely it had something to do with Luo-Luo’s Aura-like ability with music, but unlike the other times she’d demonstrated this ability, she’d only absently strummed out a tune rather than fixated on any particular emotion to share. How curious. Was this the result of spending days lost in Insight at the farm? If asked point blank, Luo-Luo was unable to explain exactly how she’d benefited from her time there, for her Forms were unchanged and her Insight into battle still lacking, but it seemed like her mysterious, musical abilities had evolved after listening to the symphony of the bamboo grove.

To test it out, she picked out a tense and flighty section of a song she’d learned years ago and played it for the bears, and their response was telling indeed as they moved to hide behind sweet Tali’s skirts. Both bears were large enough to crush her with a single paw, but still skittish enough to believe the ten-year-old child could protect them from the scary music, and Luo-Luo couldn’t help but laugh. “Poor Banjo and Baloo,” she cooed, reaching out to ruffle their hackles before strumming out a merry chord. “Nothing to fear, my darlings.” Plucking out a few playful notes, she smiled as the bears raised their heads to investigate and almost lifted Tali out of her seat, much to the delight of the giggling girl. “Come listen to Luo-Luo play and let your fears melt away.”

Giving herself over to the music, she played an impromptu and improvised tune, sharing her happy, carefree spirit with everyone who could hear it. Unlike her earlier two tests, this time she could feel her emotions flowing into the music and out into the world, and it wasn’t long before she received a response. The gurgling bears, the mewling kittens, the braying cattle, the squawking bird, the chittering quins, the neighing horses, and even the squeaking Divine Turtle, all of them raised their voices to accompany her joyous and lively tune, and her fingers flew across the pipa’s strings as she adjusted the melody to include them. To the human ear, her song was neither pleasing nor melodious, but each note resonated with her merry and upbeat mood, and every measure was laced with her appreciation towards her adoring and adorable listeners.

If only she could convey these same emotions to humans, but judging by Tali’s curious expression and Sorya and Anrhi’s bewildered confusion, Luo-Luo’s current performance could only reach her furred and feathered friends.

Still no closer to understanding her talents, she went back to teaching sweet Tali and kept her playing to a bare minimum, though every now and then she’d strum the strings and let the bears know how much she adored them. When they finally stopped for the night, Luo-Luo’s spirits were high and her mood soaring, so happy to have found a life here amongst the Bekhai. This was why she returned from the grove so relaxed and carefree mood, because while there, she realized that while this was far from the life she’d envisioned as a young girl, it was a much better life than she gave it credit for. So what if Lord Husband had yet to touch her, and admitted outright that he didn’t love her? Did he not also imply that he would like to fall in love with her? That was already far more than Luo-Luo ever dared to even dream of, not to mention how the Bekhai had united behind her when it would have made much more sense to hand her over to Yang Jixing.

Her life here was imperfect, unfamiliar, and downright dangerous, but it was a good life surrounded by good people, so Luo-Luo thanked the Mother Above for Her blessings.

She only prayed that everyone would make it through the trials and tribulations ahead, for while she had done everything in her power to assist Lord Husband, some matters were entirely out of her hands. Still, such was life, and there was no sense worrying about things she couldn’t control, so Luo-Luo settled in with her new family, played a cheery little tune on her pipa, and tried her best to enjoy this beautiful start of their journey.

Because even without Insight to guide her, Luo-Luo had already done everything she could to pave the way forward, and there would be precious few days of peace left ahead.

Chapter Meme