I am not what anyone would call a pious man.

I’ve always treated religion with the same skepticism I reserve for myths, legends, and barroom accounts. Maybe some of it is true, and regardless of the facts, I accept that there may be lessons to be learned from these tales, but while religious teachings are not without merit, I could never bring myself to earnestly believe in stories which were told, retold, and written thousands of years ago. I’ve seen firsthand how whispered rumours can twist fact into fiction within a matter of mere hours, so I can only imagine how much has changed in a story which has been told and retold millions of times. I mean, maybe there’s actually a religion out there which is totally true, and there is one or many omnipotent beings watching over us from above, but if that’s the case, then I feel like my doubts are justified, because he or she can read my thoughts and understand I’m making a valid point. If said omnipotent being is vindictive enough to punish me for my lack of belief or my willingness to tolerate nonbelievers, while simultaneously refusing to offer valid proof of his or her existence, then I suppose I’ve no choice but to accept my punishment in the afterlife.

That said, one thing that keeps me from going full atheist is the sheer wonder of the world around me. Take the human body for example, a marvellously complex creation on so many levels. We are beings comprised of trillions of cells clumped together to form our bones, tissues, and organs, which all work in concert to allow us to function as human beings. There’s so much mystery locked away inside these bodies we inhabit, that even a thousand lifetimes might not be enough to learn everything there is to know about the human condition. Anatomy, physiology, and biochemistry barely even scratches the surface of how we function, for you’d also need to know about psychology, cytology, genetics, and more, each one so intricately connected to the others that you can’t even study one subject without knowing something about the others, not to mention the various fail-safes in place to ensure we can take a licking and keep on ticking.

I mean, think about how complicated our bodies really are. We breathe oxygen into our lungs where it’s picked up by our blood and delivered throughout our bodies. Once this precious cargo is delivered, our blood carries away waste carbon dioxide to be expelled when we exhale, with measures in place to shut things down and keep us alive for as long as possible if we should ever run low on air. We create antibodies in our blood to fight against bacteria and infection, while simultaneously cultivating a whole slew of helpful gut bacteria to help us break food down into energy needed to fuel the body’s various processes. We possess a convoluted nervous system which coordinates all our actions by transmitting signals to every part of our body without the need for conscious thought or even basic awareness, and a brain sitting at the centre of that nervous system allowing us to override those reflexes and instincts, on top of also storing and processing information in a manner I have no ability to describe.

Knowing all this makes it difficult to believe that evolution was the only driving force behind humanity’s creation and rise to power. So many pieces needed to fall perfectly into place for us to come into being, like opposable thumbs, tool creation, complex social interactions, and rational, emotional, analytical, and abstract thoughts. If not for countless quirks of fate, we might well have become nothing more than mindless, hairless apes. As such, I cannot wholly deny the existence of a higher power, and as I lay drained and breathless upon my marital bed, I give thanks to any and all deities looking down on me from above.

Because by God, was that sex divine. There’s just no other way to describe it, and it would have been utterly impossible if not for the heaven-sent miracle of the human body.

Judging by her reaction, it appears my wife also arrived at the same conclusion, and after long minutes spent basking in the afterglow, we lock eyes and share a smile of delight.

Okay, more of a giggle, but that’s hardly erotic, sensual, or manly.

“You,” Yan begins, punctuating the word with a kiss, “Are incorrigible. Was last night not enough to sate your appetite? To think, you can’t even let your poor, tired wife sleep in after a most strenuous and stressful wedding.”

“I can never get enough of you, wife,” I reply, drunk on the taste of her lips and the touch of her skin. “Not in a hundred lifetimes, much less a single night. Besides,” I add, grinning at her sleepy expression, “What stressful wedding? All you did was show up and look magnificent.”

“Mm, true.” Nuzzling deeper into my embrace, she adds, “You looked mighty magnificent yourself, especially while running the obstacle course. Do you still have the name of the tailor who put Gerel’s wedding gift together? I’d very much like to see you run the course again, this time wearing nothing but frills.”

The scary part is, she actually means it, so it’s best if I don’t encourage her. “How’d you even see it the first time around? Weren’t you locked away in the restaurant?”

“I talked Kyung into sneaking me out under Concealment.” Beaming oh so prettily, Yan sighs and says, “He likes to look tough, but he spoils me.”

It’s nice that they’re getting along, though I’d like it if some of Kyung’s kindness would spill on over to my side. Mildly jealous of the exceedingly handsome half-cat, I overcompensate with bravado. “I was pretty incredible, wasn’t I? And all without Chi I might add.” Raising my arm to flex and admire my supple, corded biceps, I once again marvel at what an amazing machine the human body is. “When I first shattered my Core, I could barely stand upright beneath the weight of the air around me, but after a year of minimal exercise and good eating, I’m in better shape than I’ve ever been. I mean, I’m no hulking, muscle-bound warrior, but I’m as fit as can be, with a wiry frame, well-defined chest, and sculpted abs to boot.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Ignoring Yan’s devilish grin and wandering hands for the sake of my masculine pride, I buy myself a bit more time to rest and recuperate before going at it again. “Seriously, I think everyone uses Chi unconsciously more than they know. Not just Martial Warriors, but commoners too, else I don’t think anyone would survive without being as physically fit as I am.” I’m not just tooting my own horn here either, it takes significant effort just to walk upright in this world’s increased gravity, but human beings are nothing if not adaptable. Only thing is, they had something they could rely on besides peak physical fitness, that being the Energy of the Heavens. “Think about it Yan. Even without Reinforcement, you’re much stronger than I am, which defies logic.” Running my fingers along her smooth, slender arms, I put mine next to hers to really showcase the sheer difference in size and show that my forearms are thicker than her biceps.

“Not really,” she replies, kissing my cheek to smooth my wounded pride. “I’m a Martial Warrior, and you know we live by different rules.”

“Yes, but why? And how?” Questions I really have no answer to. Despite being able to kick ass and take names with the best of them, Yan does not have what one would call an athletic physique. I mean, she’s in great shape, but in more of a wiry, coltish sort of way with minimal muscle definition, as if she stays fit through healthy diet rather than physical activity, except she can pack away more food than a workhorse. Going by appearance alone, you wouldn’t expect her to be able to run for ten minutes without panting and heaving, but she could probably sprint ten kilometres without breaking a sweat. She can also throw me around with one hand and leap twice her height with ease, all without consciously using Chi in any way, shape or form. That’s just her baseline, as it were, able to pull off superhuman feats through sheer force of will rather than actual muscle mass, and it’s incredible to watch in action.

In contrast, I have rippling muscles all over my compact frame and almost no body fat to speak of, despite an exceedingly high caloric diet and moderately inactive routine. Hell, I still eat as much as a Martial Warrior despite my shattered Core, because that’s just what my body needs to keep from cannibalizing my muscles, which were built by just surviving under these harsh conditions. Yet despite being in top form, there is absolutely no way I could ever overpower Yan, even if she were exhausted and Chi-less from a full day of fighting. Hell, it’s getting to the point where I can barely keep up with Tate out on the obstacle course, even though he literally trips over his own feet. Tali has long since left us both behind, which goes to prove that my embarrassing display on the obstacle course yesterday was nothing special in the eyes of a trained Martial Warrior. The only thing I had going for me on the obstacle course was familiarity, and by the time my wedding banquet rolled around, there were plenty of embarrassing stories, but so many of my former peers were chatting about what to include on a more difficult course. Every single suggestion I overheard would’ve been impossible for me to overcome, whether it be eight metre verticals or stepping stones with the surface area of a fist.

So yea, I’m in peak human physical condition, which apparently is the bare minimum to function normally without Chi. Great world I’ve reincarnated in. Just the best.

Having gotten lost in my sarcastic musings, I neglected to keep my insatiable wife distracted and find myself unable to resist her sudden advances. Not that I would even if I could, but it’s always nice to have options. Then there’s no more time for thought however, as I rise to the challenge, and several marathons later, I finally collapse back into bed, breathless and sweaty, while my new wife slips out of bed as fresh as a daisy, humming a cheery little tune as she gets dressed for the day.

Oof. I don’t think my ego will ever recover from this. Between the restraints and her... involuntary reactions, Mila pretty much exhausts herself so long as I work hard enough, but I don’t think I could ever burn through all of Yan’s stamina, not even if I were a Martial Warrior again. That said, there’s something to be said about a woman with a healthy sexual appetite, and it’s always nice to be wanted, so I suppose I’m just complaining for the sake of complaining. Plus, considering the various ways I could go, dying mid-coitus doesn’t seem all too terrible, and Yan could even politely say that I died in bed.

Eighty plus years from now, hopefully.

“Alright,” Yan says, leaning over to kiss me once she’s finished getting dressed. “I’m starving, so I’m going to go have breakfast with Grandpa. Want me to bring you something to eat so you have more time to rest?”

...Implying she wants to come back and pick up where we left off. God I love this woman, but I fear she may be the death of me. “About Grandpa Du,” I begin, changing the subject to buy even more time to lay here and rest. “I was thinking, now that we’re married, it wouldn’t be right to let him keep staying with Taduk, not once we’re home at least. We have a bunch of extra rooms in the manor back North, so why don’t we invite him to stay with us instead?”

“Really?” Eyes wide with joy, Yan clutches my hand to her chest and pulls me up for a kiss, which once again brings me back to my lack of options. I’m not saying I don’t want to kiss her or I don’t like what she’s doing, but I’m just not used to being... well... manhandled. “You mean it?” She asks, gnawing her lip in hesitation. “But... it’s not customary for the bride’s family to live with the groom. Won’t your parents and grandparents feel like Grandpa Du... I don’t know, usurped their position?”

I want to laugh, but after thinking it through, I’m worried that might actually be a thing. I know Mom and Dad didn’t love the idea of me moving out on my own, but they bought me a manor for my first marriage anyways. Besides, my parents are getting up there in years as well, so it won’t be long before they’d move in with me regardless, or at least that’s what I’d assume would happen if Dad wasn’t half-wolf and Mom wasn’t a Martial Warrior. Will Akanai and Husolt want to move in with me? I hope not... “Uh, not gonna lie, I never thought about it, but if they’re upset, I suppose we could always get a bigger house?” Yan’s pained, yet amused look says it all, and I wave her concerns away. “Look, I understand your concerns, but I also genuinely want to do this. For you.”

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Grandpa will be fine where he is.” While true, I can tell Yan is only saying this because she doesn’t want to shake things up, which is all sorts of wrong.

“Yes, but he’ll be happier living with us, which means you’ll be happier too.” Tweaking her nose, I smile at the memory of her bursting into tears while telling her beloved grandpa that nothing would change and that she’d always be his granddaughter. It was so emotional and out of character for the calm and stoic Yan, who usually struts through life without a care in the world, I couldn’t help but fall even deeper in love. “He’s family,” I say, instead of poking fun at her emotional vulnerabilities. “That’s all that matters. So for now, let’s just say he’ll be staying with us as a temporary measure, since it doesn’t make sense for Grandpa Du to stay with Teacher when we have extra rooms at our house.” I’ll have to hire servants to care for Lin-Lin and Taduk, but that’s easily done, and if Akanai, Husolt, Song, Mom, and Dad all want to move in, then that’s fine too.

And hey, if that happens, then Alsantset and Charok can bring the twins back to live in Mom and Dad’s manor, and the whole family will be back together again. There’s nothing better than sitting around a giant table and sharing a meal with all your loved ones, and that’s a fact.

My thoughtful efforts earn me a tender, grateful look from Yan, which is rare to say the least. “You’re too good to me,” she whispers, though honestly, it doesn’t seem like all that much. I’m inviting her aged grandfather to come live with us, not really a big deal or anything. “But have you talked to Mila about this yet?”

“...No, and now that you mention it, I probably should, on account of marriage being a partnership and all that.” In my defence, I’ve only been married for like, forty days, and I spent half that time away from my wife, so I’m still getting used to the whole thing. What’s more, I’m not the most adaptable person in the world, considering it took about seven years for me to acclimate to the local customs, so I suppose I’m in for a rough ride. Sitting up in bed, I say, “If you’re not in any rush, why don’t we go see if Mila is up? She normally sleeps in, but considering she doesn’t remember anything from her last trip here, she might’ve asked Song to wake her early so they could go sightseeing together.”

“...I’m not so sure this is such a great idea.”

“Don’t worry.” Throwing on a fashionable robe, I look around for a matching sash to bind it. This is why I hate the local fashions, it takes so much effort to get dressed. “She’s not that grouchy in the mornings, and so long as you’re careful, there’s almost no risk of injury.”

...Almost.

“I don’t mean going to wake Mila,” Yan says, producing my sash from under the bed and helping me tie it around my waist. “I mean bringing me to go see her, first thing in the morning. This morning in particular.”

Something about her tone and expression raises alarms in my exhausted brain, and Yan’s message finally makes it through. “Is something wrong? Is she upset because of our wedding?” If so, she never said anything, and believe me, I asked. Repeatedly. Mostly because I couldn’t believe that she was okay with this, but I suppose I should’ve gone with my gut instinct. “Are you two okay?”

“We’re fine.” Smiling to soothe my worries, Yan straightens my collar and runs a hand through my hair, distracting herself from this difficult conversation. “Or rather, she claims we’re fine. Better than fine, in fact, she says we’ll be the best of friends and sister-wives, but the whole time, I felt like she wasn’t being honest with herself.” Sighing as she loops her arms loosely around my neck, Yan leans back and purses her lips. “She tried her best to hide it, but I could tell Mila wasn’t very happy at the wedding banquet last night, and Lin-Lin was doing her best to cheer her up.”

Ain’t that a punch in the gut. I didn’t even notice, though I was surprised by how little she ate and thought she was being especially indulgent with Song, who happily claimed all of Mila’s leftovers. “So... you think you should avoid her?”

“Well, she is your first wife, after all,” Yan jokes, though this time, I spot the hurt she hides so well. “Gotta keep her happy.”

“Wrong. Well, you’re right about keeping her happy, but not at the expense of your happiness.” Shaking my head, I pull Yan close and lead her out of the room. “C’mon. We’re gonna have ourselves a talk with Mila.”

God, I am the worst. I didn’t even consider the fact that Mila was staying in the same manor, not to mention my sister, nephew, niece, parents, grandparents, future wives, and in-laws. Oh gods above, they must have heard everything, every last moan, groan, creak, squeak, pant, and wheeze. Well, now I’m having second thoughts about having Grandpa Du come live with us, especially if it means everyone else will come live with us too. No, what I need is an estate, with several separate homes inside the same perimeter. Almost the same thing as living together, but with more than enough room between buildings to preserve a semblance of privacy...

Or I need to learn how to Conceal, put up Sound Barriers, and block Scrying so I never feel self-conscious again.

As we step out into the familiar surroundings of the same borrowed manor we stayed in last time, I stop cold in my tracks and look around, unsure of where I’m supposed to go next. “Err... you wouldn’t happen to know which room Mila is staying in?”

“Not a clue.” With repressed laughter seeping out of every pore, Yan coughs and says, “I was a little too distracted last night to take note.”

Thankfully, the mystery is solved as Song steps out of her room, with Princess, Aurie, Mama Bun, and Tawny One all hot on her heels. Stopping briefly to greet all my darling floofs, I head inside with Yan and find Mila lying prone in bed, with blankets haphazardly covering her lower half. With arms clutched tight around her pillow and eyes screwed shut in obvious effort, it’s clear deception is not listed amongst Mila’s many skills, as she’s doing a poor job of pretending to sleep. “Morning, beloved,” I begin, pulling a reluctant Yan with me to take a seat on the bed. “Did you sleep well?”

“No...”

The stifling silence echoes through the air as a forceful, unspoken utterance of ‘idiot’ sounds in our minds, and it’s all I can do not to run out of the room to escape from this awkward embarrassment. For too long, I sit and stew in the discomfort, and Yan and Mila are all too happy to let me, with one stifling her nervous, involuntary laughter while the other struggles to keep her anger in check. “So,” I begin, clutching Yan’s hand for support while gently stroking Mila’s hair, “I think it’s long past time we all had a chat.”

To my surprise, Mila doesn’t put up a fight and sits up without prompting, fussing with her messy bed hair while trying not to glower. Naturally, my first instinct is to wrap my arm around her, since she neglected to bring her blanket with her and looks so exposed and vulnerable in her silken pyjamas. It isn’t until after I’ve pulled her into my arms that I realize Yan has pulled away, untangling her hand from mine in some sort of automatic, anti-intimacy response, as if she is somehow secondary to Mila. Pointedly shooting Yan a look, I throw my arm back and invite her to come cuddle as well, without hiding any of this from Mila. “This is my fault,” I begin, and they both shoot me a look which I am all too familiar with. They think I’m an idiot for only noticing this now, and to be fair, they’re right. I was too focused on making this happen and all too happy to ignore what were clearly warning signs.

Since Yan seems adamant to sit apart and there’s no point arguing with her when her mind’s made up, I consider my words carefully before speaking. “Yan and I were talking just now, and she said something which I felt needed to be addressed. Yan, you are not my second wife.” Feeling Mila tense up in my arms, I meet her eyes and say, “Nor are you my second wife. There will be no first, second or third wife. Well, chronologically, there will, but what I’m trying to say is I don’t want any of you to concern yourselves with any type of hierarchy.” Pulling the still reluctant Yan into my embrace, I squeeze them both tight to reinforce my point. “You are my wives, and that’s it. No primary and secondary, no legal or mistress, just Wife Mila and Wife Yan, or Wife Yan and Wife Mila. Same difference.”

Neither one cares to respond, which is unsettling to say the least, so I loosen my embrace to look them both in the eyes. “I want this to work, and I want you both to be happy, but I’m not entirely sure how to go about it. To this end, I need you to be honest and tell me when something is bothering you, so I can do my best to make the problem go away.”

Yan and Mila share a glance and roll their eyes before elbowing me away. “Typical man,” Mila declares, crossing her arms with a huff.

Lips pursed like a disappointed schoolteacher who thinks I should know better, Yan shakes her head and glowers. “Always trying to fix the problem, instead of just leaving it be.”

“There’s no fixing this,” Mila says, with a delightful pout. “We’re upset over having to share you, and that’s not likely to change.”

“But we accept this,” Yan continues, drawing attention back to her and making me feel like I’m in the middle of a tennis match. “So the least you could do is accept that we will be upset.”

“...I’m confused.” Leaning back so I can watch them both glare at the same time, I ask, “So... you want me to do nothing while you stew in discontent?”

“Yes,” they reply, still glaring in muted anger.

“Even though you’re unhappy because of me?”

“Yes.”

The human body is a complex creation, but it has nothing on the minds of women. Tentatively nodding my head, I say, “Alright, but I still want you both to be happy.”

“We know,” Mila says, while Yan contents herself with snuggling in beside me. “And I am, else I would never have agreed to marry you, but you need to accept that not everything is within your control, and you can’t fix everything.” Wrinkling her nose ever so adorably, she adds, “And that doesn’t just apply to our marriage either.”

Interjecting before this becomes all about my flaws, I pull Mila in for a group hug and say, “Fine, but I won’t let you stay here and sulk. Come out and have breakfast with us, and then I’ll take you sightseeing around Central’s Citadel. Defensively, it’s pretty terrible, but it has some very pretty architecture.”

Though she does her best to look grumpy, Mila visibly cheers up at the invitation, while Yan deflates in my arms, no doubt thinking that I am favouring the first wife over the second. Thus, when Mila gets up to wash her face, I whisper, “I know you planned to stay in bed all day, but I would literally shrivel up and die. Gimme a few hours to rest, and then we’ll steal away for a bath, okay?”

Yan relents, and Mila is pleased, but as we step outside, they trade yet another look and ask, “What about Lin-Lin and Luo-Luo?”

I guess the downside of a harem is I’ll always be outnumbered in arguments, but I can live with that. “They’re still asleep.”

“But they’ll feel left out if you don’t at least invite them,” Yan says, gently shoving me away before linking arms with Mila.

“Yan’s right. You usually make it up to Lin-Lin, but you always neglect poor Luo-Luo.” Disapproving of my dismissive eye roll, Mila huffs and says, “A fine husband you are, talking about how it pains you to see us hurt while ignoring your concubine. She works so hard to please and impress you, yet you never take the time to get to know her.” Holding up a hand to forestall my arguments, Mila adds, “And don’t even claim to have tried. Yes, you invited her on your trip here and to the Southern Citadel, but you knew she wouldn’t be able to make it.”

“Plus, she’s gorgeous,” Yan unhelpfully supplies, though the dreamy glint in her eyes makes me hopeful for the future.

“I don’t understand.” The familiar phrase comes all too easily these days, and I pretend not to notice my wives’ hidden smirks. “You’re upset because you have to share me with each other, but you’re also upset because you don’t have to share me with Luo-Luo?”

“This is this,” Mila declares, “And that is that. The two have nothing to do with one another.”

“...Okay.” I don’t think I’ll ever understand, but then again, I don’t think I’m equipped to do so. “I’ll go wake Luo-Luo and Lin-Lin to see if they want to come with.”

Aggrieved and frustrated as I am, I can’t deny that Mila’s right. I haven’t really been giving Luo-Luo a fair chance, despite saying I would many, many, many times, but deep-seated trust issues don’t go away just because you tell them to, and I’m not entirely sure they’re not warranted. Like, why is Luo-Luo even interested in me? Yes, she didn’t choose to become my concubine, but that didn’t stop her from throwing herself at me before bothering to get to know me, so it raises the question: does she actually like me and enjoy my company, or is she just trying to make the best of a bad situation?

It doesn’t help that Luo-Luo is so god-damned gorgeous. Don’t get me wrong, Mila and Yan are both beautiful beyond belief, and Lin-Lin is so adorable I could die, but Luo-Luo goes even further through the magic of makeup and fashion, which makes her beauty so... intimidating. I don’t get how she does it, or know what it is she even does, but there’s something about the way she simply exists that makes it hard to believe she truly enjoys my company. Like why would she love me? At least with Yan, Mila, and Lin-Lin, I can inwardly cringe at how I might’ve inadvertently or unconsciously groomed them from their youth, but Luo-Luo was a grown ass woman when I first met her, and she should most definitely know better.

...Okay, so maybe this isn’t entirely Luo-Luo’s fault, and my issues with self-esteem and fear of intimacy may have something to do with my inability to accept Luo-Luo. Gimme a break brain, I’m working on it, but in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got a pretty full plate here. Not only do I need to navigate through the obstacles in my marriage with Yan and Mila, I’ve also been managing a pretty big project with War Bonds, property flipping, and the introduction of concrete, all while researching Taiyi ZhuShen’s notes on body strengthening, Zhen Shi’s notes on Demonification, and Broken Blade Pichai’s scant words on Core repair in hopes of discovering some way to fix my Core before I’m old and grey, so excuse me if I’ve let a few things slip through the cracks, like my love life with Luo-Luo and my growing cattle herd...

God, the cattle. I really need to figure out what I’m going to do with them, or else I’m going to end up having to slaughter some of them. People think, ‘Oh, they’re just cattle, those are slaughtered for food all the time’, but they’re my cattle and I want them to live full and happy lives...

One thing at a time, Rain. One thing at a time. First, knock on Luo-Luo’s door and invite her to breakfast and sightseeing. Then ask Mila about letting Grandpa Du stay with us when we get back home. Next... well, I’ll figure it out as I go. It’s mostly worked for me thus far, so why sweat the small stuff? I see no reason why Grandpa Du can’t come live with us, and if Mom, Dad, Akanai, and Husolt want to come too, then the more the merrier. What’s important is how to subtly suggest Mila and Yan deepen their friendship by taking things to the next level and making a Rain sandwich. Yea, yea, disgusting, chauvinistic, perverted desires, blah blah blah. Whatever. I’m over all that guilt. We married now. They agreed to this, and we all knew where this was going, and I for one am not ashamed of my desires.

Scratch that, I am deeply ashamed, but I can’t help it. This is who I am: a paranoid, neurotic, perverted, old man in a younger man’s body, and I’ve mostly come to terms with this. What’s the point of being reborn if all I’m gonna do is wallow in angst? Might as well enjoy life where I can, and if I die wrapped in the arms and legs of two beautiful women, then I will have lived a life worth living.

For I am Falling Rain, husband to Mila and Yan, which is just all kinds of awesome.

– End of Volume 32 –

Chapter Meme