Swallowing a mouthful of tepid tea, Luo-Luo felt it seep around the lump in her throat as she sat and stared at the papers neatly arranged across the table. She’d personally gone through all of them to check and double-check the information contained within, and they painted a disturbing and downright terrifying portrait of the world around her. Now, as she watched Lord Husband go through those same papers, she prayed he would come up with a different, less terrifying explanation to soothe her unsettled nerves.

At first glance, the information seemed innocuous enough. A report on Shen Mu’s lumber industry, including a detailed estimate of what the city’s warehouses held prior to its destruction. Bills of sale from skilled tradesmen leaving the doomed city months in advance, bringing their entire families away to disappear into the wilderness. Copies of Shen Jin’s comprehensive tax records, recounting every copper collected from goods and travellers moving through the sole trade route between West and North in the year prior to the Defiled invasion. Conflicting harbormaster logs from ports all around the Azure Sea which were evidence of smuggled goods on ships whose captains brought their cargo and crew west, only to never return and leave their homes, families, and profitable trade-routes behind.

Luo-Luo stumbled across all of this information and more whilst working with MuYang to verify Rang Min’s claims regarding the widespread theft and fraud plaguing the Imperial supply lines, and every time she found a single loose thread, she followed it to the same, unpleasant conclusion. Individually, these facts were meaningless and unimportant, but put together, they hinted at a concentrated effort to move products and people into the West in a clandestine matter, an effort which had been going on for months, if not years before the Defiled invasion. In fact, had Shen Mu not been put to the sword, the City would have soon discovered a serious shortage in skilled tradesmen, and Luo-Luo suspected their warehouses had been pilfered as well, holding perhaps as little as half of what the reports indicated. And this was assuming someone had set up an unregistered logging company somewhere north of Shen Jin, yet south and west of any other Northern City, because there was far more lumber moving into the West than Luo-Luo could legally account for.

It wasn’t just lumber either. In the year prior to the Defiled invasion, the North sold record amounts of provisions, cloth, stone, leather, and weapons to the West, averaging close to four times the quantity sold in previous years. Knowing this, Luo-Luo supposed the stolen goods were being moved West as well, though she had yet to uncover any definitive proof. She was thankful to even know this much, because none of this would have come to light if not for MuYang’s tireless dedication and Imperial Scion Jian Xianhe’s canny insight, so she was all but certain of it now. Whatever shadowy mastermind was behind all the theft and fraud plaguing Imperial supply lines was working for or with the Defiled and had done so for months, which meant there were Enemy agents lurking within their ranks.

A fact Lord Husband apparently suspected from the moment he heard Rang Min’s report, and didn’t share so as not to frighten Luo-Luo or colour her judgment. Even now, as he went through her notes and verified her information, he didn’t look upset or surprised, but resigned, as if all of this was merely confirming what he already knew.

Logically, Luo-Luo had always known that the Enemy was crafty and insidious to the extreme, but the thought that she might well have brokered a deal or corresponded with a Defiled agent or sympathizer left her trembling in fright. Worst of all, the evidence pointed to a conspiracy taken on by dozens, if not hundreds of individuals working in concert, yet done in a compartmentalized manner which left them unaware of who their insidious allies might be. Of course, not all of those people had to be Defiled, because looking the other way for Nobles and Merchants was almost ingrained in Imperial culture, but it was mind-boggling that no one had come forth to shine a light on these issues yet.

No, that wasn’t true, for also on Luo-Luo’s desk were reports of missing husbands, wives, sons, and daughters, men and women who disappeared without a trace and whose whereabouts were still unknown to this day. Some might have just gone into hiding to avoid the Imperial Decree mandating they take up Imperial contracts, and others might have just abandoned their lives and families for other reasons, but there were too many missing tradesmen for Luo-Luo to simply ignore like so many city guardsmen and Imperial Adjudicator’s already had.

“Welp,” Lord Husband said, sitting back with a sigh. “Looks like there are Defiled sympathizers in the North working secretly to supply the West. Guess we’re all fucked.”

That was certainly less optimistic than what Luo-Luo had hoped for, and the lump in her throat grew three sizes larger. Reaching for her cup of tea with shaky hands, she carefully brought it to her lips while MuYang oozed disgruntled disapproval. “Mind your words,” he chided, as grim and cheerless as always. “An errant comment can give hope to the hopeless, or render a killing blow to wavering courage.”

“Fair enough.” Accepting the criticism without blinking, Lord Husband sighed and said, “Still... Things are looking grim.”

“Why?” With elbows propped on the table and head resting in his hands, the irreverent Jian Xianhe presented an image at odds with the ideal Imperial Scion, impeccably dressed and exquisitely groomed yet coarse and boorish in behaviour. Never once did the man stand when Luo-Luo or Lord Husband entered the room, and were it not for her loud objections, the lout would likely have his bare feet resting on the table instead of his clothed elbows. “So the Enemy made plans to build homes and feed the populace before invading,” Xianhe said, offering the barest hint of a shrug. “Hardly a dire threat, all things considered, and it’s more than what the Imperial Clan would do if the situation were reversed.”

Words which would be considered blasphemous anywhere outside this room, but MuYang and Lord Husband shared the ill-mannered Scion’s low opinion of the Empire and took things in stride, as did Luo-Luo now that she’d grown used to their impertinence. “The food is not for feeding commoners,” Lord Husband said, absently staring at the documents as if waiting for the answers to jump out at him. “The food is for their enslaved workforce who must remain sane and healthy to do their jobs, as well as potential new soldiers, the so-called Chosen of Heaven who are a different breed of Defiled. More in control, less irrational, and all the more dangerous for it, they combine the rapid Martial progress of Defiled tribesmen with the training, discipline, and equipment of Imperial soldiers. With Gen’s Oration bringing more recruits to their side, soon, they will outnumber the Imperial Army even without the tribesmen to bolster their numbers. What’s more, I believe at least some of the materials will be used in building siege weapons for when they finally march on Central. It’s not enough to win by relying on the Defiled, because this isn’t about vengeance or revolution. He’s an arrogant man who feels he was wronged, so he means to use the Chosen to show the world he was right all this time...”

Luo-Luo exchanged glances with MuYang and Xianhe, all of them unsure what Lord Husband was talking about. “Who are you speaking of?” Xianhe asked, stroking his meticulously groomed beard with an atrociously filthy hand. “And what is he right about?”

Noticing he’d said too much, Lord Husband’s brief moment of panic was quickly hidden by a knowing grin. “Above your pay grade, I’m afraid,” he quipped, eliciting a chuckle from the unpaid Scion, one who was more than happy to take advantage of the fine tea and alcohol Lord Husband kept in the office. “Looks like I’ll need to set a meeting with Shen ZhenWu.”

After an entire year of Luo-Luo’s careful use of the correct title, Lord Husband finally caught on to proper decorum. ‘Divine True Warrior’ was a loftier form of address than mere ‘Legate’ of the Empire, and so Lord Husband’s Patron should be addressed as such, but for a time, Luo-Luo feared Lord Husband was purposely using the lesser title as a snub. To think, it took four other Imperial Scions using his Patron’s proper title before he thought to ask why, at which point Liu Xuande explained things exactly as Luo-Luo had, yet somehow, Lord Husband finally understood. Maddening is what it was, to know Lord Husband was so smart, yet so hard-headed it took multiple people telling him the same thing before he would even consider believing it. Of course, it didn’t help that everyone else in the outer provinces thought Shen ZhenWu was his true name and referred to him only as ‘Imperial Legate’, but the publicly favoured contender for heir to the throne seemed to take great delight in the misconception. To make matters worse, the Royal Guardians and Imperial Scions under Lord Husband’s command had all been ordered to keep quiet about Shen ZhenWu’s true identity, much like Luo-Luo herself. If Lord Husband knew who he was dealing with, perhaps he would better remember his manners and stop attending meetings in his ‘casual’ outfits...

Then again, Lord Husband would balk at changing clothes for a meeting with the Emperor Himself. At least she was able to steer him away from wearing sandals all the time, lest he complete his transformation into a lowly street thug and lose the respect of his peers.

Upon learning his Patron was not in the Northern Citadel, Lord Husband gave orders to MuYang and Xianhe to prepare for a journey south, which would leave first thing tomorrow morning. Though he put great effort into appearing calm and unconcerned, Luo-Luo could sense the tension bubbling over inside him as she took his arm and accompanied him out of the office. “Any other business you need to attend to before we leave for Central?” Lord Husband asked, and upon seeing her surprise, he patted her hand and smiled. “I’d very much appreciate it if you explained your findings to Shen ZhenWu before I share my conclusions. In the meantime, would you care to join me on a trip to the district? I figured I’d pay my sister a visit to let her know I’ll be gone and invite her here for dinner, then ride back with Mila, Yan, and Lin-Lin when they’re ready.”

“That sounds delightful, Lord Husband. Luo-Luo is happy to accompany you on both accounts.” Heart racing in excitement and embarrassment from his amused smile, she cursed herself for her past foolishness as they collected the Guardian Turtle and headed back to the manor to retrieve their carriage. Oh how her cheeks had burned at the memory of when she quietly suggested Lord Husband behave more appropriately around his “brother’s” wife, only for him to immediately laugh and share the tale with the rest of the family. It was a minor misunderstanding which could have happened to anyone, assuming Brother-in-law Charok and Lord Husband were brothers by blood, but no. Sister-in-Law Alsantset was Lord Husband’s sister by adoption, and now they both took great delight in teasing Luo-Luo about her mistake by commenting on how they shouldn’t behave inappropriately around each other every time she was in earshot.

Still, even this teasing was a marked improvement from the detached apathy and indifference which preceded it. In the weeks following his marriages to Mila and Yan, Lord Husband was more compassionate and amicable towards Luo-Luo, though he had yet to invite her into his bed. No, that honour belonged solely to his two amorous wives, who kept him so busy Luo-Luo wondered how he even had the energy to stay awake during the day, much less stroll about with a skip in his step. Insatiable and indefatigable were terms which came to mind, but Luo-Luo’s only hope of experiencing this first-hand was to wait until Mila and Yan were not around to monopolize him.

And now, with this trip back to the Central Citadel, it seemed like her chance had finally come...

Or it would have, if not for one minor detail Luo-Luo overlooked. After freshening up at the manor, changing into a more appropriate travelling clothes, and collecting her pipa, she returned to the carriage with Jimjam on her heels and found Li-Li already waiting in the carriage with Lord Husband, the former cuddling Mama Bun close while the latter fed Princess honey biscuits from across the aisle. In all her excitement, Luo-Luo forgot Li-Li and the timid weasel-bear would be accompanying them, and while the taciturn half-cat was hardly the most affectionate person around, Luo-Luo feared Lord Husband would undoubtedly pick Li-Li over herself, if he were ever in dire need of comfort. They were a well-matched pair, so comfortable with one another they could sit together in complete silence for hours without end. There was an understanding between them, a bond which transcended that of friends yet fell woefully short of lovers, but it was far more than Luo-Luo shared with Lord Husband, and perhaps even more than Mila or Yan shared with him as well.

At times, it almost felt like he was always playing a part, the part of Falling Rain, loving husband, filial son, dutiful noble, and creative visionary, but with Li-Li, he was free to be his true self. A pet-loving fool who spoke in a high-pitched voice while begging sweet Princess to let him pet her ‘floofy face’, a venture he immediately abandoned upon noticing Luo-Luo’s presence, thereby proving her observation. “Yellow One,” he called, tossing the rest of the honey biscuit to Princess while straightening up and taking in Luo-Luo’s uncovered shoulders and bared bosom, “Could you please fetch a cloak for Luo-Luo before we set out? Thanks.” Smiling, he met Luo-Luo’s eyes and nodded in silent acceptance of ungiven thanks, because she deliberately left her cloak behind so she would have an excuse to cuddle even if Mila, Yan, and Lin-Lin were to join them in the carriage.

Granted, the last time she tried this, he’d simply given her his cloak and shivered with cold on his own, a noble gesture which made her feel terrible since she was a Martial Warrior and more suited to withstand a light chill than he. Perhaps that’s why he was so discerning of her needs, because he didn’t want to be cold again...

Regardless of her complaints, the truth was that Lord Husband had become more amenable in recent weeks, albeit nowhere near as amenable as she would like. Still, any progress was good progress, and she contented herself with sidling up beside him to discuss how his recent endeavours were progressing. With the Autumn Solstice three weeks behind them, the migration of farmers had long since come to a standstill, but swathes of skilled tradesmen were still flocking to the Western Border with each passing day, and thanks to them, the districts had blossomed into burgeoning boroughs teeming with life and laughter. Carpenters, tanners, brewers, tailors, and more, while these individuals were far from wealthy, they generally had enough coin on hand to afford better building materials than dirt, especially at Lord Husband’s generous and almost ruinous prices.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Honestly, sometimes it felt like Lord Husband didn’t care to be wealthy, and would happily live out his life in a tiny yurt. Still, as talented as he was at spending his coin, he was even better at accruing it. Five days after his wedding with Yan, he hosted the second War Bond auction in the Central Citadel, and it was a resounding success by any measure. This time, they put a thousand War Bonds up for auction, because while they anticipated higher prices due to increased interest in War Bonds, Lord Husband also expected he would need more coin for his next projects. Thanks to his careful planning and diligent efforts, he raised a total of forty-million gold which he immediately pledged towards building roads. Not just a single thoroughfare stretching across the Western Border to facilitate troop and supply transport, but he also committed to building a sprawling network of ‘paved’ roads throughout all three provinces. He likened it to the grand avenue which stretched from the Northern Wall to the headquarters of the Society of Heaven and Earth, except his roads would connect every city in the Empire to usher in a new era of trade and prosperity.

This would be a massive undertaking, and even his magnificent discovery of quick-drying cement only meant his goals were merely attainable rather than impossible, but his next announcement drove the gathered nobles into fevered excitement. Instead of building all the roads by himself, he announced his intention to only supply plans and materials for the project, while contracting the labour out to local construction companies. A sensible move by any measure, but not even Luo-Luo expected him to give up so much control. She suspected it was because he wanted to distance himself from responsibility and spend more time with his wives and personal studies, but Luo-Luo didn’t agree with his decision. Contracting labour out would open him up to being cheated by unscrupulous individuals, ones who would be more than happy to falsify evidence and bill him for ‘unforeseen’ issues, but then Lord Husband drove his hidden knife home. The Imperial contracts would be offered to the lowest bidder, meaning the winning company would be paid whatever amount they bid, and not a single copper more. Failure to complete the project would result in breaking Imperial contract, which, at minimum, was punishable by death.

A clever workaround to do away with cheats and liars, but Lord Husband also introduced several caveats to protect the lives of slaves and labourers involved in the project, including steep fines for deaths and mistreatment. This had the full support of his Patron, Shen ZhenWu, who announced that every able-bodied man and woman in the Empire was a resource to be safeguarded, for they were all Children of the Mother Above. Though his vocal support came as something of a surprise, Luo-Luo reasoned it was more for the purpose of morale than anything else. These trying times had not been kind to the lowly peasants and commoners, who worked harder, ate less, and were all but held in contempt as they died in droves to keep the Empire going, so a few words would do much to soothe their anger and appease their pride, even if nothing changed in the end.

Then again, with Lord Husband quietly paying his Khishigs to teach commoners the Forms, as well as his endeavour to arm every peasant at the wall with a crossbow and quiver of bolts, it was only a matter of time before the balance of power tipped in favour of the common people. Having seen the aftermath of crossbows at work on the battlefield, Luo-Luo was under the impression that most Martial Warriors were letting pride blind them to the facts when it came to their contempt for ranged weaponry, and she worried Lord Husband would be blamed for the inevitable peasant rebellion.

Assuming the peasant rebellion failed of course, which would have widespread ramifications for the entire Empire at large. Success or failure wasn’t even the biggest issue, not with the threat of Defiled knocking at their door, not to mention the all-too-real danger of defeated rebels turning into crazed Defiled...

Luo-Luo found it impossible to gauge just how far ahead Lord Husband could see, and she sometimes wondered if his plans were guided by the Mother Above. Perhaps even he didn’t understand the full breadth of his actions, and she was giving him too much credit. Then again, while it might feel like events had a way of falling perfectly into place and leaving him poised to capitalize, hindsight revealed all the innocuous comments and well-timed steps Lord Husband took to get there, and she realized it wasn’t fate at all, but broad vision, uncanny insight, and careful preparation.

So perhaps Lord Husband aspired to one day overthrow the Emperor, which left Luo-Luo in a moral quandary. As a dutiful citizen and Imperial Servant, she was honour-bound to report a rebel insurgent to the authorities, even if said rebel was Lord Husband himself, yet she couldn’t help but think he would make for an incredible Emperor, perhaps the greatest Emperor who ever lived, barring the Founding Emperor of course. Just look at what Lord Husband had done, first as a mere Warrant Officer, then as a crippled Imperial Scion, and now as Minister of Finance. How much more could he accomplish as Emperor?

A stirring around her bosom drew Luo-Luo from her treasonous thoughts, and she quickly pulled a purse out from her dress, where it sat tucked against her skin for warmth. Ignoring Lord Husband’s cautious retreat, she opened the purse on her lap and waited for Noodle to unfurl and slide out. The beautiful viridian viper sluggishly slithered out onto Luo-Luo’s silk dress, where he struggled to find traction before falling still and offering her a plaintive stare. Giggling at his adorably aggrieved expression, she offered him her palm and he promptly climbed on and circled around her wrist in a snug show of affection. “Hello, my beauty,” she called, using the same sing-song tone Lord Husband reserved for his pets. “Good to see you awake at last.”

With winter soon upon them, this was becoming something of a concern, for Emerald Vipers thrived in the hot and humid climates of the South. Even Central’s temperate autumns were too chilly for the beast, which Lord Husband claimed was because lizards and snakes were ‘cold blooded’ and therefore unable to generate their own body heat. There was something to his claims, though how he knew this, he couldn’t say, so Luo-Luo did her best to keep little Noodle warm.

“Wow,” Lord Husband exclaimed, still keeping his distance while using his foot to bar Jimjam’s path. There was no need to be so concerned, but he had yet to warm up to Noodle, as it were. “He’s gotten a lot longer. Like... a lot a lot.”

Which only went to show how little attention Lord Husband paid Noodle and Luo-Luo. “Indeed,” Luo-Luo proclaimed, giving Noodle’s head a light scratch. “He was only a few weeks hatched when we first got him, and he’s shed his skin five times since then, though he’s fast approaching his adult size.” Though only marginally wider than before, Noodle now stretched from fingertip to past her elbows, almost encroaching upon her shoulder, but he was a sweet, docile beast, not at all like the books described his kin. This may have something to do with whatever it was the Medical Saint did to render Noodle’s biological venom ineffective, but there was nothing to be gained from asking, and she rather liked the snake’s friendly demeanour. “Would you like to hold him?”

Truth be told, Luo-Luo only offered to see Lord Husband flinch, and he shook his head in staunch refusal, but Li-Li was game to try. Holding out her hand without uttering a word, Li-Li flicked her cat ears and cast her eager gaze at Luo-Luo, leaving her no room to refuse. Inwardly worried Noodle might come to love Li-Li too much, Luo-Luo urged the little snake over into the half-cat’s waiting palm, who accepted him without batting an eye. As Noodle explored his new surroundings, Li-Li watched with fascinated interest, and were it not for Mama Bun fast asleep in her arms, she no doubt would have brought her other hand over to touch him.

Unfortunately, while snake and half-cat seemed amenable to each other’s company, the weasel bear was of a different mind. Raising her hackles with a throaty, guttural growl, Princess’s predatory stare turned Luo-Luo’s stomach and raised Noodle’s vigil. It was almost hypnotic watching him rise up in warning, swaying ever so gently from side to side while baring fangs and forked tongue. Terrified the weasel-bear would make short work of Noodle, Luo-Luo hastily collected her little friend and gently clutched him close to her chest while humming a cheery tune. Thankfully, this was enough to appease not just Noodle, but Princess as well, who settled back on her haunches and sat on the carriage seat, clutching Li-Li’s arm close for comfort like an adorable toddler with her mother.

To further soothe their ruffled spirits, Luo-Luo brought out her pipa and played a relaxing tune, which set Noodle to undulating and Princess’s tail to wagging. This set Lord Husband back to trying to win the weasel-bear’s affection, all the while keeping a close eye on Noodle. The rest of their carriage ride passed by in relative peace, and they spent the rest of the day playing with Lin-Lin and the twins and strolling through the districts to take in the new sights. The originally unappealing dirt hovels were now covered in verdant grass, blending them into the local landscape and offering a quaint and rustic sense of comfort to their otherwise unremarkable appearances. The decidedly upscale Bekhai district was spotless as could be, and there were no tensions between Lord Husband’s people and the farmers and civilians, many of whom originally worked on Lord Husband’s beet farms. Banners and pennants decorated the wide eaves and upturned roofs of the beautifully designed buildings, any of which would fit right into a wealthy city district, while papers bearing news and announcements were posted at almost every intersection, alongside a healthy sprinkling of saplings which would eventually sprout into beautiful, fruit bearing trees.

Their stroll also brought them to the neighbouring district to the south, which was not quite as beautifully crafted as the Bekhai district, but still had a homey sense of comfort about it. Here, potted plants were popular decor, as were small gardens and fields of grass lining the smooth cement roads which facilitated the ease of travel. Even on foot, it took less than two hours to cover the distance from district to district, and it didn’t even take half that for Lord Husband’s cattle wagon to bring them back. Yet another venture of his, putting his many cattle to work hauling people and goods along the districts for a small fee. Thus far, his wagons only covered a dozen or so districts since he had yet to find enough people he trusted to care for his precious pets, but the sweet bull pulling their wagon seemed happy enough, and even greeted Luo-Luo with an affectionate nuzzle.

So much had changed in only a few short weeks. Rubber, glass, concrete, War Bonds, the world was changing around them at a breakneck pace, but even then, Luo-Luo worried things were not changing fast enough, not in her personal life at least. Days before Mila’s wedding, Lord Husband proposed to marry Luo-Luo on the Winter Solstice, and she turned him down, but now it was all she could do not to break down in tears with each passing day. Their relationship had improved to the point where they were less than lovers and more than friends, but it just wasn’t enough. They took strolls together at night and sometimes sat together for meals, but never alone and only rarely outside the company of his wives. Mila and Yan were utterly intoxicated by Lord Husband, and he with them, which meant even though almost a month had passed since his wedding with Yan, Luo-Luo was still an outsider looking in.

Oh, if only she hadn’t rejected his proposal like a moon-eyed fool... At this rate, she would be well into her thirties before he was ready to marry her, and that was assuming there were no other women besides Li-Li and Lin-Lin in his life. What if that fox Da’in succeeded in winning his affections, or the hordes of other women who sought to bear the child of an Imperial Scion. Liu Xuande and his fellow Imperial Scions were also bombarded with proposals and the like, but thus far, they’d resisted the urge to sow their seeds amongst the outer provinces and only kept company with the Imperial slaves they brought with them from the East. None of them seemed thrilled by the prospect of giving their children over to Imperial Service, and Luo-Luo could not fault them, for if Lord Husband’s children were also fated to... be given...

Oh no... no, no, no...

Assumptions... Luo-Luo was guilty of them more often than not, for she often felt like the answer was so obvious it didn’t bear further study, but what if this were like the misunderstanding with Lord Husband and Brother-in-Law Charok? Luo-Luo assumed they were related, because it appeared as if they were, just as she assumed Lord Husband’s children would be Imperial Scions themselves, but what if she was mistaken? The tenth generation of Nobility was always given over to Imperial Service, but while she assumed Lord Husband would be considered a first generation Noble, generation was usually determined by relation to the Emperor Himself.

And Lord Husband had no relationship to this Emperor, or the next, or any Emperor whatsoever, which meant that while logically he was a first generation Scion, it could easily be argued he was more than ten generations removed from any Emperor, meaning...

Meaning any child of his must be given over to Imperial Service.

“Hey? You seem distracted. Is everything alright?” So distraught by her unexpected discovery, Luo-Luo had no recollection of returning home to their manor. Around her, Lord Husband’s loving family sat about the courtyard in their couch swings and along the veranda to enjoy the cool autumn night after a sumptuous family banquet. Before her sat Lord Husband’s concerned expression, cuddling Mama Bun once more while Banjo and Baloo begged for his attention. Grinning as he embraced each bear in turn, he sat down beside her and laughed as the bears settled into their laps. Nudging her ever so gently with his elbow, he stroked Baloo’s head and said, “I’m here if you want to talk, or if you just want some company. If you just want to be alone, feel free to let me know and I’ll leave you to your thoughts, no offence taken.”

“It’s nothing,” she lied, too terrified to even consider the implications, for Lord Husband was not one to easily give up his child. Even securing jobs for his cattle was proving next to impossible, and he had trained Martial Warriors spying on village cart drivers to ensure his precious floofs were not harmed. Luo-Luo herself was not much better, for she always dreamed that her Patron would be kind enough to let her keep her children and powerful enough that it wouldn’t be an issue. Hell, she even privately hoped this cattle wagon venture failed so she could bring them back to live on the ranch and appreciate her music, for she noticed some of the cattle seemed upset by the loss of their friends. How was she supposed to live knowing her child might go through the same pains she had, or worse?

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Lord Husband said, keeping his tone carefully neutral. “But it’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it. Just know, I’m here if you do, and so are Yan, Mila, Lin-Lin, and everyone else.”

It was almost enough to make her cry, and she wanted to blurt out her suspicions for him to hear, but there was too much hinging on his good relationship with Shen ZhenWu, and this revelation was sure to stress it, whether her suspicions were true or not. “Thank you, Lord Husband,” she said, grateful she’d found such a kind and caring Patron. “But it’s nothing.”

Her actions betrayed her words as she wrapped her arms around his and leaned heavily against him, seeking comfort from his warm and sturdy presence. There they sat with the bears’ heads in their laps, stroking their fur and giggling at their silly expressions as if secluded in their own private world. They traded stories about the animals and shared tricks on keeping them contented, and their conversation was so soothing and peaceful, Luo-Luo didn’t even notice that the others had left them alone, not until Lord Husband cleared his throat and said, “Well, it’s getting late. We should head off to bed.”

Gently lowering Baloo’s snoring head down into the grass, Lord Husband straightened up and brushed the dust from his pants. Then, he hesitated ever so slightly before offering her his hand with a shy, almost expectant smile and asked, “Would you mind if I walked you to your room?”

A question she’d been waiting to hear for agonizing months, an implication only barely hinted at to leave her ample room to refuse, because he didn’t want her to feel forced into this. Luo-Luo knew she should refuse, at least until she made certain of his Imperial Status, but she’d been waiting for this moment for so long, had ached for it, dreamed of it, and now it was finally here...

“Yes,” she said, the word coming out hot and heavy. “Yes, that would be –”

“Trouble approaches, Junior Brother.” Appearing before them out of thin air, the Abbot gently lowered two heavy, stained sacks to his feet before collapsing into the grass. Raising a blood-covered hand in supplication, the aged Abbot intoned, “Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo, such pride, such sin. Our foes return home with tales of victory and triumph, while our presence provides proof of a shameful defeat.”

It was only then that Luo-Luo realized the sacks were not sacks at all, but the crumpled forms of Ancestral Beasts, namely Guan Suo and GangShu themselves. Blood, dirt, and injuries covered them from head to toe, and the Abbot did not look much better. “They will bring violence and bloodshed, Junior Brother,” the Abbot said, his voice calm and eyes pained. “And this one is helpless to stop them.”

With that, the Abbot collapsed in the grass and Lord Husband ran over to help him, leaving Luo-Luo to consider if this latest tribulation was too much for her poor heart to bear.

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