It took three and a half months of consistent night-time visits to accomplish, but I have finally seen everything there is to see in Pong Pong’s Natal Palace.
Well, I didn’t visit every night, only most, but considering our travel time was virtually nil, that’s still a hell of a lot of ground covered. Or water, I suppose? Either way, aside from the times I booted the animals out of my room for happy fun times with Yan, and that one week Pong Pong spent vacationing at the beet farm after we got back from the banquet, I devoted all my nights to deep diving with the tiny turtle inside his Natal Palace. While I discovered a few more foreboding forbidden zones he zealously avoided, much like the undersea cave system and sandy white beach I’d already seen, every visit uncovered dozens of startling new vistas to discover within the seemingly endless Natal Palace.
Or at least they did until tonight, when Pong Pong cut our exploration short, jumped us back to the familiar coral reef, nestled onto his stately coral throne, and offered me a little turtle shrug as if to say, “And that’s all, folks.”
“Awesome Natal Palace, Pong Pong.” Although he clearly doesn’t understand Common, he gets the gist well enough and lets loose with a melodious squeak of delight as he launches himself off his throne in a dizzying upward spiral. It’s incredible how easy he makes it look, zipping through water and cutting through currents with careless ease as if he were a graceful dancer instead of a jeep-sized turtle. That’s another thing that keeps throwing me off, because I swear everything in his Natal Palace is slowly shrinking, or rather Pong Pong grows me a little more each time I come in to visit, because he was bus-sized three months ago and all the furniture still fits him perfectly. I don’t know why he’s incrementally making me bigger, and I can’t figure out how to frame the question in a way that gets me something besides a shrug, so it’s pretty much remained an unsolved mystery up until now.
Much like how we’re both submerged underwater yet can still breathe, speak, and hear. What can I say? Magic.
An answer I’ve been using far too often in recent times, especially since it’s not much of an answer at all. Magic is just science people have yet to understand, so it’s lazy hand-waving at best. Take Pong Pong’s movements for example, which hold a hint of what I saw in Roc and Zian, a natural, intuitive understanding of complex physics, in this case hydrodynamic propulsion. Knowing without awareness, understanding without comprehension, one might even call it instinct except that it isn’t. It’s more than instinct, more than merely natural, a command over his movements which falls just short of sheer perfection. More telling is how Pong Pong’s movements on land don’t exhibit the same level of mastery, and not just because he doesn’t like to move around much when out of water. Despite being an awesome, pocket-sized, non-mutant ninja turtle who can do some crazy land-based acrobatics, it’s a marked downgrade from how he moves in water which is instantly noticeable. What’s more, the bears, wildcats, rabbits, and other Laughing Birds besides Roc lack this natural mastery too. Maybe it’s because they’re all still young and growing, but then we have Mama Bun who is older than dirt and far from graceful or effortless in her movements.
If pressed to describe Mama Bun’s movements, I’d grudgingly admit she’s an awkward, bumbling bunbun who sometimes doesn’t seem in full control of her body. I’ve seen her leap in one direction and land butt first, because halfway through the journey she decides to turn around to see what’s behind her. Then there’s the ridiculous way she throws herself on the ground, as if trying to body-slam the grass instead of lying gently upon it, or her inability to estimate heights which often leads to over or under shooting a jump. What’s more, she’s demonstrated zero spatial awareness when something catches her attention, and it doesn’t even have to be something particularly interesting. Could be a feather blowing in the wind, or a delectable Spiritual Plant cutting tucked away in my pouch, once Mama Bun’s interest is piqued, she will pay no mind to anything else. Mama Bun is sweet and adorable, but graceful, natural, or intuitive? Ha!
Rabbits aside, what I’m seeing in Zian, Roc, and a few other people is an example of One with the World, or so Dad tells me, but there’s no really explaining it. Dad can demonstrate the most efficient way to draw his sword, slash someone in front of him, then loop the sword around to stab another person behind him, but he can’t tell me why he takes two short steps instead of one longer step, or why a certain angle of approach is better than another. He just knows which one is better, because he’s swung his sword hundreds of thousands of times. That’s the beauty of the Forms, because not only can you find strength through Insight, but also through mundane, everyday repetition. Once he explained it to me, I started seeing One with the World everywhere, whether it be in the way Naaran holds his spear while walking through the manor to avoid smacking into things he shouldn’t be able to see, or how Nian Zu sets his feet down with unassailable purpose, in a steady, even cadence that always finds the most stable footing. It’s visible when Tursinai idly spins her Spiritual Chain, looping it around her finger and releasing so the weighted end shoots out like a dart, only for it to fall back into the loop with barely an effort on her part, and it’s even apparent in Mafu’s full body shimmy before he dives into the water, which is both adorable and practical at the same time, since he’s warming up the muscles he’ll need for a sudden burst of speed when he sees something worth catching.
There are many examples of One with the World, and not just in beasts and Warriors. The other day, I watched a sailor literally hitch a rope around a chair leg using nothing but one hand, momentum, and timing. It was almost magical how the end-piece fell perfectly into place as he pulled the knot tight with a flick of his wrist. Dude was drunk as a skunk and would’ve had trouble finding his ass with both hands and a map, but he’s tied that knot so many times he could probably do it while fast asleep.
How does knowing and recognizing this help me? I don’t really know, but I’ve tried to put less emphasis on understanding how something works, and be content with simply knowing and doing. To this effect, I dip my head, kick my feet, and swing my arms to propel myself through the waters, sensing the currents flowing around me and letting my body find the path of least resistance, rather than try to mentally plot out the many natural forces at work and how they all interact. The water takes me away and shifts me into Pong Pong’s wake, allowing me to benefit from his hard work while following his path, and together we shoot through waters at a breakneck pace. Enjoying the game, Pong Pong switches it up and corkscrews away, and I follow suit without caring about direction or orientation. A flutter of my feet speeds me along as my arms take on a winding motion to minimize drag as we set about on a grand old chase through the colourful coral reefs of his Natal Palace.
Giving myself in to the current, my body instinctively responds to changes in my surroundings, reading the flow of water moving about the obstacles in front of me to avoid crashing headlong into them. Moving through the water isn’t just about moving my hands and feet, but also my arms, legs, thighs, and even my hips and chest. Any surface of the body can be used to propel me through the water, and in a race this close and in such a confined space, I can’t always count on being in the best position to kick or push away. As I tumble in and about the corals, there are times when circumstances force me to curl up or flatten out to get through a tight space, and for a time I even chase after Pong Pong travelling feet first by sculling my hands at my sides.
Somewhere along the way, I realize my eyes have been closed for some time now, but rather than slowing down, I’ve actually sped up. There’s no need to look, because things are moving and spinning so quickly the disorienting sights would do more harm than help. No, now I can focus on parsing through the information that matters to help navigate my way through these waters. There’s no map in my mind or radar pinging my surroundings, it’s just the water telling me what’s there and my body moving to avoid it. Not just through my sense of touch, but other senses as well, senses I’ve always known were there, but never really thought about.
My sense of bodily space for one, informing me where my limbs are at all times whilst I scramble through the water in a jumbled, mixed up fashion. No matter how I turn, twist, fold, bend, or flex, I always know where the various parts of my body are in relation to each other. It doesn’t seem like much, but this is a sort of Oneness, being always able to touch your nose or find your belly button without really looking. Not exactly One with the Self, since that’s more applicable to emotions than physical bearing, but still something.
There’s also my sense of buoyancy, which helps keep me oriented by differentiating up from down. Again, only a minor thing, but it’s very helpful since it helps me know when to put in more effort to dive and when I can rest a bit and let the water do the work. There’s also my sense of balance, which is less useful while swimming, but still helps me orient my body to maximize my economy of motion. Can’t jump off a stone without getting my feet underneath me, and I can’t push aside a bunch of seaweed if my arms are extended the wrong way. Even my sense of temperature comes into play, because the way water and temperature interacts, with warm water rising and cold water sinking, the rush of warmer or colder water can be an indication of which way Pong Pong has gone.
There’s so much more to what my mind is processing, but I can’t even begin to discern all the individual streams of information, much less figure out how I know what I know, because while I’m doing all this, I’m also tracking the disturbance Pong Pong’s tumultuous passing leaves behind. I can sense... no, I know he’s close by, so close I can almost touch him. There’s a hint of alarm in his erratic, twisting movements, because this is the closest I’ve ever come to catching him, and even though he loves our thrilling games of tag, his base instincts tell him losing is never good.
This is a game, but it’s also practice, and Pong Pong is a life-long tag champion. He has to be, because out there in the real Azure Sea, getting caught means death. This doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on him, because he’s been getting real cocky lately, and has even learned to taunt me by happily shaking his turtle butt in my direction whenever I get too far behind. No idea where he learned it from, but I guess with all the Aura-chatting we’ve been doing, he figured out how to read human expressions as well. Smart little guy, but still a turtle, so I must use my big human brain to defeat him.
Sadly, my greatest weapon is sorely lacking and I can’t close the distance before running out of energy, which is a strange sensation here in Pong Pong’s Natal Palace. My lungs don’t burn, nor do my muscles get sore, but there’s a weight on my mind which is almost impossible to shake off, like my thoughts are leaden stones swimming through molasses. Also, a wicked headache and a general sense of irritability and laziness, which makes it easy to fall asleep. Unable to press on, I ascend above the coral reefs and suspend myself in the water, lazing listlessly with arms and legs akimbo because it just feels more comfortable like that. Stifling a yawn, I pulse an Aura of defeat and fondness out into the Natal Palace and smile as Pong Pong pops up a good distance away, maybe two or three kilometres in real distance. The little guy can really book it through water, and with the magic of Natal Palace fuckery, I can almost match him. I doubt I could do this out in the real world, even with a working Core and Domain, because I’m fairly certain Pong Pong bends the rules for me in here so I can put up a better fight.
He probably cheats to win all the time too, but I can hardly blame him for that. Who doesn’t like winning?
Darting over for a gentle headbutt, he squeaks in muted discontent, as if to say ‘is that all you got?’. It’s all good natured though, as he flips over to match my posture and ask for a belly rub, his clawed fingers and toes wiggling in delight as I comply with his requests. Fun as all this was, we both need some real sleep, which he gets while nestled atop his coral throne which I suspect sits at the exact centre of his Natal Palace. I’ve never actually mapped it out, but this coral reef is hands down the largest zone of all, while the others are nestled within it like little pocket dimensions. It’s a lot like my most recent Natal Palace layout, with multiple areas like Mila’s forge and Taduk’s cottage all separated by the void, except in his case, Pong Pong filled the void with water, plants, corals, sand, and well... a lot of other stuff.
All inanimate stuff. He’s got a real thing against making living creatures in here, unlike Ping Ping who happily snuggles with her giant red panda every time we’re there. In contrast, Pong Pong has yet to become One with the Floof, so I can only pity his unenlightened self.
Giving his cheeks one last tickle before waving goodbye, Pong Pong waves back and sends me off on my way, where I immediately succumb to the darkness of sleep. It’s not the Void, it’s just a faint perception of being asleep while drifting in a haze of senselessness. All too soon, the night comes to an end and I slowly come awake in the light, with no Yan beside me and no Aurie sprawled over my legs. Mama Bun is still here though, nuzzling me awake, but she’s much less gentle once she notices I’ve come to but have yet to actually get up. The floofy girl is ready to start her day, but she refuses to do so without me, so I laugh as she thumps the bed and paws my chest before sweeping her up in a warm embrace.
I love waking up like this, with a beloved friend here to greet me. It’s the best.
Having woken up late as usual, breakfast is a lonely affair with just me and Luo-Luo, and we dine in the courtyard with the floofs around us. Sorya and Anrhi cooked up a simple affair, having come a long way thanks to their daily practice now that Charok and Alsantset moved out to the farm with the twins. They only lived here with Mom and Dad because it was safer to have us all stay together, but with my star on the rise as the first ever Minister of Finance, we no longer have to guard so thoroughly against hidden assassins. I don’t miss being crowded by invisible guards all the time, but I miss seeing the twins every day. They still come back for a meal every two or three days, and all their rooms are still exactly as they left them, but it’s not the same.
I should probably move out after marrying Mila, because we’ll be a household unto ourselves. I’m a little sad and a lot nervous, but I also can’t wait. I’m getting married!
With Lin-Lin opting to skip breakfast altogether and sleep in until lunch, I’ve had more time to get to know Luo-Luo during our private breakfasts these past few months. She’s not very opinionated on most things, and I’ve no real interest in the arts, so we mostly stick to work-related topics, though I’ve been trying to branch out. That said, even keeping up with daily gossip is linked to work, since the rumour mills can teach us a lot of things that work out to our advantage in business and finance. “Sorya tells me the stonemasons were let off early last night,” Luo-Luo begins, pouring my tea with a beautiful smile and an all too obvious display of cleavage. I still look, of course, because she’d be upset if I didn’t, but its little things like this that make our relationship feel... contrived. “Again, I might add. Second time this week.”
Jorani’s twin half-sisters have a real penchant for gossip, and there are times they’ll hear about something before even my spymaster MuYang knows to bring it to my attention. “Another stone shortage. Shit.” Luckily, the outer walls and fortifications are mostly done, and now we’re just putting up fire-breaks and reinforcing choke-points, but even though production and purchasing should be keeping up with demand, the shipments have consistently been coming in short. Not just with stone either, but also timber, cloth, foodstuffs, and more.
We’re getting robbed blind in almost every thing we buy, all across the Empire. I say we in the Imperial sense, since they’re paying for most of it, and it’s almost impossible to stop because there’s no single culprit. There’s no big mystery. This isn’t a conspiracy to bring the Empire down through economics, it’s petty theft, except there are thousands of thieves working independently to steal, skim, cheat, lie, and pretty much anything else, all in order to line their own pockets. Case closed. It happens all the time, whether it’s the farmer who sells you a kilogram of rice that weighs less than a kilogram, or the farrier who paints over a cracked horse hoof, and usually the Marshals write the losses off as the price of doing business, but the losses have been ramping up in recent months, and Yuzhen asked me to look into it. “Did Junior get back with that little project I put him on.”
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“Yes, but I am not sure what you expect these numbers to prove.” Sliding over a document filled with names, dates, and numbers penned in Junior’s neat hand, Luo-Luo sums it up for me so I don’t have to read it. “The stolen shipments are coming from all over the Northern Province, not just from one supplier.”
Which was expected, since anything less would have been an obvious solve and this case would have never made it to my desk. “True, but only a handful of companies are being stolen from,” I say, speaking around a mouthful of egg tart. God, beet sugar is amazing. It’s not the white powdered sugar I’d envisioned, and more of a reddish-brown rock sugar, but it’s delicious, cheap, and readily available, which means I can have dessert for breakfast now, and not feel guilty about it. Plus, sugar tea tastes so much better than butter tea, and will fatten me up all the same. I just hope I don’t get the diabeetus, though from what I can tell, that’s not a thing in the Azure Empire. First good thing about this world I’ve heard about, though it’s possible it was just never diagnosed before.
Perusing through the numbers, I confirm what I’d already guessed. “Either we have some very discerning bandits, which is silly, or a handful of companies are screwing us.” Devouring the rest of my egg tart, I point at the relevant numbers and wish this was an electronic document I could rearrange as I please. “These companies, to be exact. See the pattern?”
“...No, Lord Husband.”
And it kills her. In her own way, Luo-Luo is as competitive as Mila is, and honestly, it’s kinda adorable. “Right here. These quarries by Shen Jin, these farms by Feng Huang, and these lumber mills by Jiu Lang.”
“...They’re the companies losing the most to bandits... but they also reported record highs in production.” Her voice growing in confidence as she looks over the numbers, Luo-Luo gasps and exclaims, “Too high! They’re lying about their production numbers!”
“Exactly. Everyone is working harder than ever for the war effort, but to put out twice as much cut stone? Three times the amount of lumber? That’s bullshit. They’re padding their numbers so they have ‘more’ to sell, then sending shipments out underweight and claiming someone along the way is stealing from them. They either have multiple inspectors and Administrators in their pockets lying about the weights, or more likely, someone is providing caravan masters with forged inspection papers to get them through the official checks.”
Which coincidentally takes place at the Society Headquarters. My old enemies are at it again, what a surprise. Situ Rang Min had to be a lot more subtle about opposing me these last few months, but dollars to donuts, he’s still working for Yang Jixing and would happily cut my throat with a smile. Fun, fun, fun.
“How did you even think to look for this?”
I do love it when she looks at me like that, as if I’m some brilliant, big-brained genius. “The numbers were too neat and orderly. We were losing ten or fifteen percent from each shipment, almost to the exact kilogram. No way someone skimming would keep to such rigid margins, because people are greedy. There’s also the fact that it’s hard to skim timber and stone without being spotted. Food and other stuff I could understand, but difficulty aside, there’s also not much of a black market for building materials.”
“I will put together a report for the Marshal. Arresting the caravan masters will be simple enough, but I will advise she hold off and gather more proof so she can go after the mastermind. It’s likely these companies have been doing this since the start of the war effort, so even if we cannot charge the owners, we may be able to demand they make up for our losses if we bring this before a Justicar.”
Smart. She knows as well as I do that killing wagon drivers would be meaningless, because it’s the company owners who are behind this scheme, but they’ll get away with it unless we have iron-clad proof that they’re involved. Otherwise, some lackey or stooge will take the blame for their crimes while the true masterminds get away scot-free. At least this way, they might have to pay us back for overcharging us in the first place. I’d much rather order the people in charge to be hanged by the neck until dead, but alas, the powers of my Office do not extend so far.
Technically, my Office doesn’t even have the authority to charge the aforementioned companies with a crime. I figured out what they were doing, but all of this information goes to the Disciplinary Corps for review, after which they’ll conduct their own investigation. Or rather, add it to their current ongoing investigation which is getting nowhere fast. They’ve probably arrested a few small time thieves, but there’s no point going after labourers stealing food to eat or clothes to wear, but they’re the easier targets, and even Oath-Sworn Justicar’s need to show results.
And most importantly of all, the Disciplinary Corps’ job is not to uphold justice. It’s right in the name. Their job is to dispense discipline, plain and simple. So long as it doesn’t get in the way of the big picture, they don’t give a flying fuck if some schmuck is stealing from the Imperial Clan, not unless he’s dumb enough to get caught. They’re not the police, here to solve crimes and protect the people. No, they’re judge, jury, and executioner, so woe befall anyone who comes to their attention.
Honestly, the only reason I’m doing this is because Yuzhen figured this sort of thing would be of interest to the Minister of Finance, since the Imperial Clan was technically financing most of this. I didn’t want to correct her, since Administrator Hang was in the room at the time, and the Legate never really specified what my Official duties were to the world at large, so I figured the exact details regarding the responsibilities of my Office were best kept secret until I was in position to exploit said responsibilities. Either way, this left me no choice but to accept Yuzhen’s busywork, which was fine, but then word got out and I had two messages from the other Marshals by the end of the day, inviting me for a private meeting to discuss how my Office can help them. That’s how I got pressured into visiting both other Citadels, and why I’ve been busier than ever chasing down missing shipments, deferred payments, and all other manner of issues which really have nothing to do with finance.
I mean, yea, finance is a broad term that could include many things, but I just wanted to sell War Bonds and introduce paper money, or rather Treasure Notes, which seemed like a much more appealing name. Seriously, I thought the Imperial Clan would love the idea of making coin out of thin air, but here I am busting my ass to get it implemented and working as a fucking bean-counter to hide my true reasons for introducing paper money. This is the fucking worst.
Either way, I’m always happy to start off the day with a victory, so I bid Luo-Luo goodbye and head out to meet my adoring fans with the Death Corps at my side. Well, more like my crowd of flunkies and boot-licks who I want nothing to do with, but now that the Legate has made me a proper Imperial Scion and Office Title holder, that makes me the closest thing to royalty in the outer Provinces. I have so many more Death Corps Guards now, a full thousand of them in fact, though I would much rather trade half of them for a dozen lion-riding Royal Guardians. Hell, the Legate can even keep his stupid Guardians and just give me the black-maned lions, but despite all my efforts, he refuses to give me the floofs. He won’t even hand over Kuang Biao’s old mount, because it’s somehow beneath the lion’s dignity to be ridden by a Death Corps guard, which really sucks since I heard Royal Guardians and their mounts are supposed to share a special bond.
I suppose it’s for the best though. If the people of the outer provinces thought I could be bought with floofs, I’d be drowning in pets by now. Seriously though, why isn’t anyone gifting me floofs? I want a red panda...
Putting on a smile as I greet everyone in proper order, I inwardly scream at the need to play nice. The crowd is particularly big today, as they’re all here to congratulate me on my coming nuptials and fish for an invite to the wedding banquet, but I have no idea who I’m inviting or where I can find a venue that fits one to two thousand guests. Technically, I could just ignore the crowd and they’d have no choice but to keep fawning, but while they aren’t the most influential people around, I still need their help from time to time, and you catch more flies with honey. Thankfully, I have no need for them today, since stupid Administrator Hang works at a freaking snail’s pace and has no authority whatsoever, so I have to wait to hear back from the Master of Coin all the way in the East whenever I bring up something that needs to be changed. It’s a pain, but at least things are getting done now that the shoe has finally dropped and the Master of Coin understands how much money there is to be made from exploiting Imperial face.
God I love it. Finally, I can make this most frustrating of customs work to my advantage, and better yet, get rich doing so. From these damn annoying fools no less, though to be fair, all the money is gonna go straight back into the province, so it’s more like I’m getting rich in theory, before blowing it all on essentials like food and weapons. And that’s assuming the Master of Coin and other Imperial agents leave me alone to manage the War Bond funds in peace, which I doubt they will once they see the numbers involved. I’ll only have one chance to use all the money unimpeded, after which everyone will be clamouring for their piece of the pie, but I haven’t wasted these last three months and with luck, my carefully-laid plans will help me emerge victorious, even if the Legate takes my Office Title away.
Leaving those worries for another day, I take a break from my normal routine and head over to greet my lovely wife-to-be, but it turns out Mila’s not home and left for the farm first thing in the morning. Gotta say, this stings a bit, especially since I wanted her to weigh in on the wedding planning process, but knowing Mila, she doesn’t even care and would rather spend all day meditating or blacksmithing. To raise my spirits at having been so quickly abandoned again, I head up to the roof and play with the adorably floofy baby Laughing Birbs, whose feathers have finally come in so they no longer look like horrific alien creatures. Instead, they’re like mini-Laughing Birds whose heads are too big for their round poofy bodies and have not yet learned to steal and extort, which is just a solid plus all around.
There are seventeen babies in total, and they’re all super affectionate and love being held, so I pray they stay this sweet and innocent forever, because I have no idea what I’m gonna do with thirty-seven thieving rats with wings. Maybe I should build myself a manor out at the farm, so I can get away from the crowds. I’ll have plenty of work to do there soon enough anyways, and I could bring Ping Ping and the birds to live out there too, not to mention see more of Sir Inky and my precious beautiful beets, but then I’d have to trouble Dad for more guards and suffer through an hour long commute every time I have an event at the Citadel.
Still... it’d be a nice place to settle down and have quiet happy fun times with Mila and Yan. Maybe even Luo-Luo too, if I can get over my various neuroses and give her a chance. One step at a time there though, buddy, starting with your marriage with Mila.
Man... I’m getting married in eight days!
...Eight days to plan a giant wedding from scratch, so I can get married.
I need help. I need my mom...
The day passes in a blur as Mom and I plan out an elaborate wedding banquet I have no desire to attend, with help from a few chosen flunkies from the crowd. They’re not good for much, but they do know how to plan a party, or at the very least, they have servants who know how to plan a party who they put under my command. After lunch, Lin-Lin brings Blackjack to join the party planning team, looking lovely in a breezy, sleeveless floral dress dye in the colours of the skies, with her ever-present white silk scarf repurposed as a sash. My little wifey adds a much needed splash of liveliness to the proceedings, and ensures Ping Ping and the floofs are all included in the banquet process, though I stop short of dedicating time for an animal talent show.
Honestly, Luo-Luo would probably be the best at planning this sort of event, but like I told Yan, it’d be weird to ask her to plan my wedding after she turned down my terrible, awkward, impromptu proposal.
By mid-afternoon, I am all planned out, and Mom kicks me out of the meeting for ‘being too sour’. It’s her way of looking after me, since she knows I need a nap, so I give her a kiss on the cheek and bring Lin-Lin out to see Ping Ping. The big girl is delighted by my arrival and spends a good minute nuzzling me by the pond, after which she hunkers down in her favourite napping spot in the shade of a pitifully tiny tree, where she watches me and Lin-Lin fly our kites alongside the aerial fleet unleashed by the crowd of children around us. I paid for most of those kites, since their families could hardly afford it, but I’ve been secretly campaigning to convince labourers to unionize, or at least collectively bargain for better pay. I’ve been paying my workers more than industry standard, but that bar is set so low I have to be careful not to trip over it. This hasn’t had the result I’d been hoping for, but Silva, Viyan, Birca, and a bunch of their friends are all out there day and night talking up a storm about the power of the working people.
Bulat and Ravil would probably be more useful in this endeavour, but I have them working on another private project at the farm. It’s true what they say: it’s hard to find good help. There’s so much more still left to be done, and so much more I have planned for once the War Bond money comes in, but I only have so many people I can trust. That’s neither here nor there for now though, because this is my time to relax. Putting one arm around sweet Lin-Lin’s shoulder, I pull her in close for a hug while ignoring her laughs of protests about how our kites are going to get tangled. “Hey wifey,” I begin, kissing her hair and basking in the joy of hugging someone shorter than me. “How is it you never get jealous of Mila, Yan, or Luo-Luo?”
I don’t know why I can’t leave this topic alone. I should just keep quiet and count my blessings, but I can’t help it. It’s like picking at a scab until it hurts. It just needs to be done.
“Stupid Rainy.” No hubby today, not this time at least. “I’m jealous all the time, dummy.” Elbowing me away to focus on her kite, Lin-Lin bites her lip ever so adorably as she brings it back under control from a near disastrous entanglement. It’s not that I didn’t see this about to happen, but whenever it does, I just pick out two kids standing in the crowd and say they can keep the kites if they can untangle the strings. It’s never very difficult and it’s a face-saving measure for their parents, because even poor people value and deserve face.
Once her kite is soaring a safe distance away from mine, Lin-Lin glances over and sticks out her tongue in a fit of pique. “I love you Rainy, and you’re the best, but you’re also terrible, ya?” Puffing her cheeks in fake anger, Lin-Lin’s beautiful brown eyes sparkle with mischief. “I knew it the first time you went to Shen Huo. Remember?”
Yes, yes I do, because she somehow found out about Fung bringing me to the Golden Swan Pavilion. That was embarrassing, to say the least, so I gloss over her question and move on. “For being jealous all the time, you sure are accommodating.”
“Cause this is just how you are.” Deftly moving so she can stand with me without risking her kite, Lin-Lin gives me a playful hip-bump before sinking into my embrace. “You’re a stinky pervert, but you’re my stinky pervert, ya?” Biting me on the bicep, she adds, “Just remember, you can’t play favourites like you do with the floofs, ya? You hafta love all your wives equally, but me a little more equally than the rest. Got it?”
“Yes wifey.” I don’t think I could help it even if I wanted to. Lin-Lin is just too sweet to ever be mad at, even when calling me a stinky pervert. Then again, that might just be because she’s not wrong. “So does this mean you’re my Mama Bun?”
Stomping on my foot ever so daintily, Lin-Lin scrunches her nose in mock anger. “I’m being serious Rainy. If you wanna have five wives, you gotta be the best hubby ever, and even though I know you can do it, it won’t be easy, ya? That’s why you can’t have more than five, because then you won’t have enough time for all of us. Two days for each wife, this way there will be no conflict and we’ll all be one big happy family. I thought it all out already, so you just hafta be you and be a good hubby, got it?”
“Yes wifey. You’re so smart, wonderful, sweet, and beautiful.”
That earns me a toothy smile before she buries her face in my chest, so happy she can barely even speak. “Love you hubby,” she eventually utters, all the while keeping her kite in perfect formation.
“Love you too, wifey.” Maybe she’s One with the Kite, but that’s ridiculous. I mean, she spends a lot of time flying kites, but it’s hardly to the point of Oneness... right? Nah, I’m just seeing it everywhere now that I know about it. That’s a thing. I know it is. I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s a thing. It’s probably why no one tells Martial Warriors about the milestones, because it’s not like anyone can really verify if someone has a Natal Palace, unless you’re privy to Imperial Scion secrets like the Legate.
Wrapping up my afternoon playtime with a quiet nap next to Ping Ping, I spend an hour or so paddling around the river inside her Natal Palace. The ‘animals’ are still adorable and realistic as ever, and I still can’t fathom why Pong Pong doesn’t like having living things in his Natal Palace, but whatever. He’s different, and he likes different things, and that’s totally fine. After Lin-Lin wakes me up for dinner, we head back to the manor after another long day of work, with still more to be done for the wedding in the coming days. Mila at least has the grace to look sheepish about skipping out to go meditate, but she declares in no uncertain terms that she’s going back out tomorrow as well, because there are matters on her mind which she still wants to check out, namely how her crazy detailed Natal Palace compares to the real thing.
No one is saying much about it, because they don’t want to colour Yan or the twins’ perceptions, but I can tell they’re impressed by the level of detail Mila went into while building her Natal Palace. There’s even room to expand, as well as an unfinished... I dunno, throne room? That space in the centre where she sits, it’s got plenty of room for improvements, though it does bring to mind the importance of a Natal Throne. I dunno if that’s a real thing, but that’s what I’m calling it, because Yo Ling literally sat on a throne, and I can’t think of a better term. It’s the seat of power, though why one is even needed is still up for debate, unless...
He who holds the throne, holds power? Is that how Zhen Shi body-snatched Gen? And Demons take over hosts? By occupying the figurative throne?
Interesting stuff, which I should bring up with Monk Happy the next time we chat, because, let’s be honest here, he’s the only person worth talking to when it comes to theoretical Chi stuff. Mom, Dad, and Grandma are brilliant Martial Warriors, but they’re all about doing and don’t care much for the how, and while I’ve been trying to ease up on fixation with understanding, I can’t change who I am. Just like Lin-Lin says, I am a stinky pervert, but I am also an inquisitive soul who wants all my answers nicely laid out before me, and I can’t change overnight.
...Though if I’m being honest, I don’t really want to change. It might not be fair to the women in my life, but I love Mila, Yan, and Lin-Lin, and can’t imagine a life with even one of them missing. Even Luo-Luo is starting to worm her way into my heart, and might have long since done so if not for my strong, anti-imperial bias and deep-seated trust issues.
Also... the tandem toilet incident might also have something to do with it. Even after more than a year, those sounds still haunt my nightmares...
Chapter Meme