Yan loved to watch her husband work.

The activity itself was unimportant, whether it be cooking breakfast over the campfire early this morning, sparring shirtless with Gerel after eating his fill, or even something as innocuous as taking a walk through the camp to inspect his retinue, Rain’s efforts were always a sight to warm Yan’s heart. It wasn’t just because he was oh-so-pretty now that he let his hair grow longer than a finger’s width from his skull and had enough meat on his bones to sink her teeth into, nor was it because he’d ceded control of his wardrobe over to Luo-Luo’s ‘ruthless mercenaries’, the servants who’d been hired to help with Lin-Lin’s wedding and now dressed Rain full-time with impeccable taste. No, fetching as his appearance might be in his tailored tunic and more form-fitting trousers, she loved seeing him now just as much as she loved watching him at his worst, when his Core was shattered and he struggled to walk even a hundred paces without stopping, because regardless of his physical appearance, his strength of spirit was wonderful to behold. Most of all, she loved watching him because every action and decision he made offered her a little more insight regarding who he was, and she wanted to know everything there was to know about the man she loved so dearly.

Mornings were best for this sort of husband watching, because so long as he found the willpower to drag himself out of bed, it meant Yan had him all to herself. Not that she begrudged sharing him, but a little selfishness wasn’t out of line given their marital arrangements, and she relished the chance to follow him around during his surprise retinue inspection. It was touching to see the efforts he took to remember the names and quirks of his soldiers, as evidenced by how he added tiny personal touches to his tear-downs as he carried out his inspection. “Yours is the shoddiest bunk I’ve seen all day Ganju,” he said, his stony expression lacking any and all amusement as he stared down the offending individual, a former Corsair whose face and body was covered in dark, swirling tattoos. “That’s quite the accomplishment. Gather round everyone and gaze upon this slovenly spectacle. Engrave it into your memories, because I doubt anyone could replicate this mess even if they tried. Is that a sock holding your cot together? And how the hell is your pillow already moldy? Did you bring that from your bandit camp back in Sanshu? By the Heavens man, have some dignity.”

An effective tactic, shaming Ganju in front of his squad mates, as a man like this would only take pride in any lashes or labour doled out as punishment. Better to make him squirm and watch as he lost the fear and respect of his peers, something he valued and would work hard to reclaim. Yan and Sutah used these same tactics with her own retinue, though it was more difficult now that she had five-thousand ‘children’ to supervise, yet Rain not only remembered the soldiers in his retinue, he did the same for Yan and Mila’s retinues, the Stormguards, Death Corps, and Royal Guardians to boot, while making efforts to familiarize himself with soldiers from other units he came in frequent contact with. Yesterday afternoon, Rain greeted Ishin Ken-Shibu’s guards by name when they bumped into him at the market, and then made great strides with endearing himself to the Commander General’s loyal guards by offering compliments for their long hours worked, somehow having already figured out their schedules from less than a handful of meetings.

That was how Rain’s mind worked, ceaselessly gathering information even without trying to. Yan’s fool of a husband was even on a first name basis with Kanjook, the man selling spiced lamb skewers in the market yesterday afternoon, not because of any formal introduction or conversation, but because he overhead the vendor arguing with his neighbouring stall owner the last time they were here in the Citadel. This was why he loathed social interaction so much, because unlike others who would’ve just filtered out all the useless information and promptly forgotten it, Rain stored everything away in memory out of sheer hoarding habit. He put so much effort into being sociable that others would never see, to the point where they praised his ‘natural’ charisma and leadership to the high Heavens, but Yan knew the toll it took on his psyche.

While his connection with his soldiers made them love him dearly, it also made their deaths weigh heavily upon his conscience. Early on his marriage, she once overheard him mutter the name ‘Cham’ while caught in the grip of a nightmare, and when she asked about it the next morning, he told her Cham was part of the group of cripples from Shen Huo who signed onto his retinue. The man died in the battle of Sanshu more than three years ago, bled out from a cut throat while Rain held him in his arms no less, a death which still haunted Yan’s poor husband so. Kyung once told her that behind every Great General lay a mountain of corpses, but where others left the dead behind as they progressed further along in life, Rain dragged his mountain behind him like a cherished possession he could not bear to part with rather than the heavy burden it must be. That’s why he put so much stock in his Tombstone of Heroes, because he believed that if other people remembered the names of the fallen, then they would feel the same weight and responsibility he did, and while he wasn’t entirely wrong, not everyone would care as much as he. They couldn’t, not while continuing to lead soldiers in defence of the Empire, because where one death was a tragedy, ten-thousand deaths were merely a statistic. It wasn’t possible to mourn every death equally, nor would Yan recommend anyone even try, for a commander needed some measure of indifference in order to lead. Losing soldiers in war was inevitable, and carrying those losses on one’s conscience was a burden few could bear.

Not everyone was blessed with an Elemental Spirit and wholly immune to the Father’s foul minions, but Yan was glad the Mother Above guarded Rain so, because it meant he could keep his irrational yet endearing empathy.

Following alongside him as he completed his inspection, Yan found it difficult not to giggle at how well he’d adapted to his new Office. It’d been so alarming when she first found out about his second personality Baledagh, but upon reviewing her memories, she realized that she’d always known about the existence of Rain’s shifting personalities, just not how deep the changes went. Like right now, he wasn’t being himself but instead playing a role, that of the confident and detached commander, a distant and demanding father figure who expected the best from his soldiers because he wanted them to come back alive. That was the truth of the matter, but the role he played wasn’t really him, not entirely, because Yan could easily see where he copied this persona from. Straight back with head held high, bearing a stony, emotionless expression while his eyes positively smouldered with marked disapproval, this was Baatar in a nutshell. The only differences were that Rain spoke in complete sentences with a wry tone rather than terse and deadpan like his father, and he also lacked the tail to give away his true emotions, though he made up for it by being less practised at keeping the joy and approval out of his Aura and expression. Some might see this as a calculated failing, a means to subtly praise his soldiers without ever saying anything kind, but Yan knew Rain and doubted he cared to think so deeply about his own actions, as he was always too busy analyzing what others were thinking instead.

When he finished the inspection, he kept the mask on for a little while longer before switching over to the role of Legate, his back still straight, but shoulders relaxed with hands clasped behind him, a young noble with impeccable posture out for a stroll in the fields. He even adjusted his circlet to sit a tiny bit askew, though again, Yan wasn’t sure if he did it on purpose or it just happened while scratching an itch he’d been ignoring during the walk-through, but it had the added effect of making him look more laid back and approachable despite the odd, blunt-tipped long-sword slung over one shoulder and his shortsword and shield hanging off his hip. Soldiers needed a stern and dependable leader, a role Rain fulfilled for his troops to contrast against Jorani’s friendlier demeanour, but the commander of an army needed to be something else altogether. Calm and collected, that was what others wanted to see in their Legate, a confident and steadfast commander who wouldn’t panic when things went wrong, because in war, things always went wrong. Calm meant everything was going according to plan, or at least not so out of hand that the commander wasn’t prepared, and in this role, Yan could see how her husband built this image with his predecessor, Shen ZhenWu, in mind.

Noble and dignified, with an air of serene harmony and glad tidings, that was how Shen ZhenWu appeared, all smiles and handshakes even while demanding absolute fealty and obedience. Rain emulated the man well as he strode through the camp, taking large, exaggerated steps with a deliberate lack of haste as if he had nothing better to do than stroll about with his wife and the Divine Turtle Ping Ping, who scurried along behind them with unfettered glee. He didn’t go so far as to extend his arm for Yan to take, but only because he knew she wanted to preserve her image as an aloof and cavalier warrior woman who need not rely on her powerful husband to advance through the ranks. There would always be rumours about the ‘illicit acts’ she performed to get where she was now, first with Grandpa Du and later with Chen Hongji, but anyone with half a brain would hear those rumours for what they were; the mad ramblings of men who refused to accept a half-beast woman as their superior.

Those types were actually easier to deal with, since they were always antagonistic which gave Yan the excuse she needed to put them in their place. More difficult were those idiots who believed the rumours and joined her retinue hoping to do more than just serve, which was just awkward all around, to say nothing about the women who only came in two varieties. They either idolized her to an uncomfortable degree or loathed her with a passion, believing Yan to be the epitome of everything right or wrong with women Warriors respectively. Such were the pitfalls of joining the Army, since it meant she no longer had the option to pick and choose her soldiers and was instead saddled with close to five-thousand Army trained grunts who barely knew which end of the spear to hold and which end to point at the Enemy. Still, Yan was grateful her promotion to Major had gone through without a hitch, and she was determined not to let her career stop here.

Now that Rain’s inspection was over and done with, it was time to inspect Yan’s retinue, and he offered to accompany her which wasn’t exactly ideal. Generous and warmhearted though he might be, he was also exceedingly jealous which Yan absolutely loved, but admittedly would probably be a liability to her military career if it became known to the world at large. No one would dare challenge her authority if they knew the Legate Falling Rain would come down on them like a bolt of lightning from on high once he heard of it, not unless they were already at odds against him to begin with. No matter though, as she merely Sent a request asking him to keep quiet and Concealed while she went about her work, and he was all too happy to comply, no doubt sitting in the grass to play with Ping Ping and enjoy the last few hours of peace he’d have in the coming days.

Whether he’d remain quiet was another thing, but Yan would cross that bridge when she got there.

Casually strolling into her retinue’s camp, Yan nodded without smiling in response to the salutes she received, careful never to let her gaze linger on any one particular soldier. Commanding men as a woman had so many nuances to be aware of, because too much attention could all too easily be mistaken for interest, while too little seen as playing hard to get. Gone were the days when she could sit on a balcony and ogle every pretty boy that walked by, a habit Yan admitted might’ve had something to do with her less than stellar reputation in Central, but that was before she realized the stark differences in mindset. So silly, to be such sticklers for propriety that women weren’t even allowed to admire men from afar, yet still expected to wear all manner of scandalous dresses showing off the maximum amount of shoulder and cleavage without exposing nipples or underarms. Strange lines to draw, especially considering how they all reacted with such shock to the dresses Mila, Li-Li, and Yan wore for New Years Celebration some time back, though that same style of dress were all the rage nowadays, with women of bearing baring leg and thigh aplenty.

A fortuitous turn of events for Yan, who was sorely lacking in the breast department, but that did little to dampen Rain’s enthusiasm, a fact which did wonders for her self-esteem.

There were no leggy dresses for her today though, only a boring shirt and trouser to ensure legitimate advancement in her career as part of Central’s Imperial Army, though those prospects were looking bleaker by the day. While her husband had reconciled with the Commander General and they were now working together, to say Rain held a grudge was an understatement at best, and it was clear to everyone involved. It wasn’t just a disgruntled attitude and pithy comments either, he treated his allies with the bare minimum of courtesy and gave all the best postings to people he ‘could depend on’ without making an effort to hide it. Thus far, the Commander General’s people had yet to raise a fuss, but if things continued in this manner, then Yan feared for the fate of their campaign.

‘Trust, but verify’ was an often heard phrase when sitting in on Rain’s meetings, especially towards the end after the elements from South and Central were gone. Rain was putting his Spymaster to hard work keeping tabs on the General Officers of the outer provinces, his paranoid streak showing through as he guarded against betrayal from within. A valid concern given how they’d been all but ready to rebel against him, but Rain never did anything by half-measures. Not only was he keeping his possible enemies where he could guard against them, he also had spies everywhere reporting all manner of information back to him, from the habits of his generals and their illicit affairs, to the contents of various stores and warehouses as well as the comings and goings at certain properties. So far, none of his spies had yet to produce anything of value, but Rain memorized their collated reports regardless because, “Better safe than sorry.”

Except safe was driving away the very people he should be working to win over, or at the very least graciously accept their efforts to make amends. They were all marching to war together after all, and without unity, the Imperial Army would only find death and defeat in the Western Dunes, but at least now that they were in SuiHua, he could only suspect the Colonel General and Marshals from afar.

“Major Yan.” Prim and proper as always, Sutah’s waxed mustachio quivered as he greeted her with a salute, alongside the rest of her retinue. “Surprise inspection?”

“You know me all too well, Senior Captain,” Yan replied, allowing herself an impish smile as she fell in line beside him. It took some doing to get him raised to his new rank, but he earned it more than thrice over, and with a little luck and a lot of hard work, he would go much further once he Formed his Natal Palace, a milestone Yan herself was still struggling with. “How are the kids looking today?”

The term stuck fast and many of Yan’s soldiers straightened with pride to hear it, but only for Sutah to break them down with the same familiar judgment. “They look as they always do, Major. Disappointing.”

The sun would rise in the west before Sutah sang a single word of praise for his soldiers, a tactic Baatar and Akanai used to great effect on Rain, and Yan had to work hard not to laugh. “Surely they can’t be all that bad, Sutah? We’ve been running camp drills for weeks now, so I’m sure some of the training took root.”

“I thought the same, until I saw them with my own two eyes. Throw enough shit at the wall and some will stick, but these lot would sooner eat it and shit it back out. Take Captain Yogoro there, a continued disgrace to his rank whose squad...” And so began the same song and dance as Yan and Sutah made their way through the camp, checking tents, cots, sentry posts, and latrine pits as they went. Though Rain had yet to announce it, every soldier gathered here outside SuiHua knew a field campaign was coming soon, with some having known for weeks if their commanders were even halfway competent. That was one reason why Rain had been ready to kill over the long delay, because you couldn’t just shove an army out into the field and expect them to perform well. Even veteran soldiers of a dozen campaigns could use a refresher course on marching and camping protocol. Say what you will about courage and tenacity, but discipline and coordination were far more important to an army on the move if you ever wanted to move at more than a snail’s pace. A half hour to set up for the night, an hour if they intended to stay longer, and the same amount of time to break camp in the morning, those were the general regulations to live by, and when working with tens of thousands of soldiers in the field, even a meeting with your neighbouring retinues could take ten to fifteen minutes to set up. Thus, it was imperative that everyone knew what to do before embarking on campaign, because there was no time to learn out in the field.

All in all, matters were not as dire as Sutah made them out to be, but neither was Yan wholly satisfied with her retinue’s performance, especially after seeing how well Rain’s retinue of former cripples, bandits, poachers, and other riffraff performed. A label usually said with a smile in a joking fashion, but after being forged in the fires of battle and finished under the close supervision of talented commanders like Rustram, Liu Xuande, and even Jorani, Rain’s retinue were near undefeated in battlefield maneuvers, with the Stormguard and Death Corps being their only real competition. Zian, BoShui, and Ishin Ken-Shibu’s retinues all came close, and the Sentinels could run circles around all of them if given the use of their quins or bows, but it went without saying that Rain’s cutthroats and vagabonds were now a disciplined fighting force to be reckoned with.

As for Yan’s retinue, she was already working with a handicap considering she was working with a majority of soldiers whose only training had come from the army. Far from the most comprehensive guidance a Martial Warrior could get, but her soldiers were either commoners or criminals who lacked any other choice. Soldiering was simple enough work as it was mostly a matter of following orders, but it took time and effort to build the sort of trust and discipline required of a crack fighting force, and Yan’s soldiers were a long ways away from reaching that goal. At least they all trained together, so they already had the groundwork for cooperation in place, but they were no match for the elites of the Ryo Family household or one of the more lucrative military schools that so many noble children attended. Technically, Yan could’ve asked Rain to draft a conscription order for her so she could pick and choose her own people, but Grandpa Du insisted she work with whoever was willing and available so she could learn to ‘sculpt mud into gold’. Having seen the state of her retinue, Yan knew she still had a long way to go, but she agreed with Grandpa’s vision, because she found that teaching her kids how to soldier taught her so much about command that she would have missed out on if she simply took over an elite force like Rain’s. While the base quality of the soldiers had gone up since most were blooded in the citadel siege, she still had to account for drunkards or addicts hiding their vices, injured idiots hiding their wounds out of misplaced machismo, and directionless sheep who kept following the wrong banners when it came time to muster. She called them her kids for a reason, but after training with them for so long, she’d grown fond of her band of idiots and hoped that most of them would make it back alive.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

While simultaneously praying that she herself would not be the cause of their deaths. War was hell, but there was nothing worse than hindsight reminding you that you could’ve done better...

Well, like Rain liked to say, a gram of prevention was worth a kilogram of cure, so after making sure neither of them had any other pressing matters to attend to, Yan got to work running her soldiers through training drills. It was boring but vital work watching them break down camp and put it back up again, so she threw in a few emergency scenarios to test their ability to react under pressure and her ability to utilize Rain’s flexible checker-board formation. The tactic worked rather well when combined with the massive southern scimitars her original retinue favoured and they picked it up rather quick, but the remaining four thousand plus soldiers were more accustomed to spear and sword, which took a little more getting used to. The dispersed nature of the checker-board formation meant each unit was responsible for covering more ground, which meant most of the burden fell upon the shoulders of her Captains as not only did they have to wrangle their troops into position, they also had to keep a close eye on their surroundings and react appropriately to the flow of battle, sometimes before she had time to Send an order. For this, Yaro was the standout talent, as he’d been with her for almost as long as Sutah had, and while he was the only one she’d promoted from within, he was serving in more of a Senior Captain’s capacity since her second had additional responsibilities to attend to. As for the newer Captains of her retinue, they were a mixed bag of schooled nobles and arrogant silk-pants. At least the former could be taught to abandon their rigid rules when the flow of battle dictated they do so, but the latter lacked the ability to even adhere to the rules and were a weak link in the chain of command, an arrogant bunch who either disdained her orders or wanted to show off in front of her in the worst possible ways. Within the hour, she already had to reprimand seventeen of her fifty Captains, with ten tasked with extra training with their units, six consigned to latrine duty for the next week, and one whipped for insubordination.

Not the best start to a campaign, but better to get the growing pains out of the way here rather than wait until they were out in the field.

As lunchtime grew close, Yan stopped training to offer a few words of encouragement to the troops before calling a meeting with her Captains and Senior Captains to talk shop, all while categorizing the roles in which her officers would play. Sutah was her second-in-command for good reason as he was her most reliable under-officer, but her two noble-born Senior Captains were none too pleased about serving under a commoner. The problem was, they were both fairly competent and hardworking to boot, so she couldn’t just dismiss their discontent out of hand, so she made an extra effort to praise them and ask for their opinions more often. The remaining two Senior Captains were fairly unremarkable, but her Captains were another story. Aside from the slackers and troublemakers she’d already disciplined today, she had five more Captains who were more or less useless in the field. She couldn’t say as much of course, so instead she made a note to have them bring their more competent seconds into meetings from here on out, since those veterans were more or less running their young master’s units anyways, and would benefit from the additional information. All in all, her retinue was precariously balanced in an odd sort of fashion, neither top tier nor bottom of the barrel, though admittedly the latter was mostly because the majority of the stupider soldiers and officers had long since died off, leaving only the green, the competent, and the lucky behind.

Mentally drained from all the drilling and prep work, Yan Sent word to Rain that she was ready to go, and he brought her into his area of Concealment once they were a good distance away from her camp. “You’ve done well with your ragtag little retinue,” Rain remarked, wholly missing out on the humour in his statement given the background of his own retinue. “They’ll hold the line even with an army of Defiled bearing down on them, and you can’t really ask for more. If only I had more units I could count on for as much...”

A bit pessimistic, but he wouldn’t be Rain if he wasn’t, and Yan made allowances for the stress he was under. This counter offensive might well be the largest military campaign since the founding of the Empire, as never before had a general been tasked with re-taking an entire province. What’s more, as Rain’s miraculous ability to Cleanse the Father’s foul minions from existence had yet to be revealed, there was a general air of doom and gloom pervading the massive army encampment, one that stretched out to the horizon in every direction except North, where so very many ships sat idle in SuiHua harbour, their empty masts forming a veritable forest of bare trees out over the water. Any fool could see that this was a massive undertaking, and Rain was at his wit’s end trying to make it happen.

“Things aren’t so dire,” Yan replied, glancing around at the steady stream of soldiers hurrying about in all directions on one task or another while Rain brought her towards SuiHua to dine with the family. Warriors from North, South, and Central were all in attendance here, and it was amazing to see all the different cultural aspects in play, though Rain hardly even registered the distinctions. Northern soldiers were the most pragmatic of the lot, happy to sit and eat wherever there was space, while Central soldiers felt compelled to cram together inside their mess tents, even though there was sunshine aplenty with nary a hint of a cloud in the sky. Southern soldiers ate by their tent alongside their units, which wasn’t a terrible idea considering it built camaraderie between soldiers, and Yan considered implementing such a rule for her own soldiers. Then, she could do away with the mess tent which always stank to high heaven, since five thousand soldiers eating travel rations made for quite the fetid cloud of gas around meal times.

It was also interesting to see the different types of food everyone ate, with the familiar hard tack and jerky so prevalent in the north, usually softened with some type of stew or soup. Centrallers loved their bars of rice and millet, which were made by steaming and drying the ingredients ten times in quick succession. They ate those bars dry and raw when given no other option, but could also add them to hot water or soup to produce a soft and fragrant pilaf. Sun-dried meat was also a staple of their diet, less savoury than the smoked variety the north preferred, but seasoned to perfection due to the abundance of arable farmland making spices so cheap and readily available. As for the southerners, pickled vegetables were their staple ration, stored in vinegar and eaten with dried, pre-fried noodles that were a crunchy delight, but it paled in comparison to their native cuisine.

Getting Rain to try different cultural foods had been an effort in and of itself, but well worth it in the end even if the pickings were slim in the Central Citadel. To say her husband was set in his ways would be a massive understatement, and he seemed to wilfully resist any attempt to learn and appreciate different cultures. It was easier to convince Tate to try new foods than Rain, especially if it looked strange or unfamiliar. A sentiment Lin-Lin shared, but at least Yan still had Li-Li, Mila, and Luo-Luo to help convince Rain, though nothing short of Divine intervention could convince him to go see another play or opera. Thankfully, Yan had her sister-wives to watch shows with, and the Chief Provost – no, Mother-in-Law Akanai also shared their love of the theatre and oftentimes accompanied them on their rare nights out, a dream come true for Yan who idolized the heroic Warrior woman. That being said, Yan didn’t mind Rain’s flaws so much, for they were few and far between, or at least that’s how she saw it through her admittedly rose-coloured veil.

Since no one besides the Death Corps Guards could see them, Yan grabbed his arm and hugged it tight, resting her head on his shoulder and basking in the warmth of his presence as they strode through the fields. So strange that she could find so much happiness in so simple an act, but this minor bit of time spent together already had her grinning like a fool and unable to control it. Even though autumn was already out in full force, Central was still too warm for her tastes, and it would stay like that even in the dark heart of winter, but she still loved clinging to her husband every chance she got. Usually, he had Lin-Lin and Luo-Luo monopolizing his arms, but the former was still fast asleep while the latter was stuck in the Central Citadel, where she would continue to carry out Rain’s duties with superlative skill and grace. Rain had yet to allow the busty beauty into their marital bed, but having seen how relaxed and comfortable he’d become in her presence, Yan knew it wouldn’t be long before he succumbed to the Imperial Servant’s considerable feminine charm.

And what fun that would be, to see what the Imperial Academy taught their students with regards to bedroom antics. Yan was beside herself with anticipation, but being the stubborn, contrary man that he was, pushing Rain to hurry would only make him dig his heels in and delay.

A few minutes after they passed through SuiHua’s towering fortified gates, Yan sensed a burst of pique from Rain as he strode alongside her through the bustling streets. “What’s the matter?” she asked, untangling herself from his arm to reach for her weapons, “Trouble?”

“Nothing immediate.” Which wasn’t a no, so Yan kept her guard up despite the presence of so many Death Corps and Sentinels watching over them, her eyes scanning the crowd without focusing on any one individual in particular. “Seems Fung’s slipped his handlers again, and old Fu Zhu Li wants me to bring him home, since the idiot will only run if he sees his manservant. So stupid. The half-weasel could drag Fung home by the ankles if he cared to, but that would be ‘unbecoming’ of his station.”

Sighing with a shake of his head, Rain’s Aura turned to sympathy as he changed heading, and Yan echoed the sentiment. Poor Fung was heart-broken from Seoyoon’s rejection, especially after coming so close to success during the Citadel siege, when she agreed to marry him so long as he killed Hideo. Even though Fung drove the Defiled traitor back and played a pivotal role in Geom-Chi’s rescue, Seoyoon refused to marry Fung because he failed to actually kill Hideo. Now, she was engaged to Yong-Jin and not even Rain’s reconciliation with Shuai Jiao could change things, because Seoyoon herself was the one who agreed to the pairing. Why, Yan could only guess, as she had yet to speak with any of the Ryo’s since their falling out, because while Shuai Jiao’s actions were taken out of prudence and therefore understandable, the Ryo’s betrayal was utterly unforgivable.

Alas, at the end of the day, there was no room for friendship in politics. There were only allies and enemies, nothing more, nothing less. While Rain was a rising dragon, Shuai Jiao was an established force to be reckoned with, one Aunty Jeong would have to face alone should Rain die, be disgraced, or return home to the north. While an alliance with Rain made sense now, Aunty Jeong was likely thinking about five, ten, even thirty years into the future, for Shuai Jiao was only eighty this year and would hold power for several decades to come. Learning that Rain didn’t have Shen ZhenWu’s confidence was likely the deciding factor, as it meant allying with him would be a gamble with the Ryo Family’s survival as the stakes.

In light of all this, it was no wonder why Aunty Jeong sided with Shuai Jiao over Rain, though it was possible she didn’t think Rain would take Seoyoon’s marriage with Yong-Jin so... personally.

Yan would’ve been a lot more sympathetic to Fung if he’d fought harder for Seoyoon’s hand, but according to the man himself, he simply wrote her a letter and didn’t even try to win her back. His wishy-washy attitude was likely another reason why Aunty Jeong didn’t favour him highly. On paper, Fung seemed like a real catch, the sole heir to a city with deep ties to the strongest faction of the North and the close, personal friend of the Legate, but what good was any of that if Fung himself lacked ambition? It was all fine and well for him to disdain war, but he didn’t have to be so proud about it, especially considering the woman he pursued came from a highly militaristic family. Worst of all, being a future magistrate himself, any assistance he could lend the Ryo Family would be negligible at best, as distant waters could not quench nearby fires. What good was a tie to the Legate if both said tie and the Legate returned home to the North? Then the Ryo’s would have only themselves to rely on in a pitched political campaign against Shuai Jiao, who had the love of the people and Central’s Marshal in his pocket to boot.

Yes, marrying Seoyoon to Yong-Jin was the right decision politically, and being the sweet, filial girl she was, Yan understood why Seoyoon agreed to it. Even if Uncle Ryo were still alive, the Ryo Family might still not be enough to stand against Shuai Jiao without Mitsue Juichi to share the burden, so better to offend Rain, who had a proven track record of mercy and compassion, than to pit themselves firmly against the formidable Commander General. Though she understood it to an extent, Yan hated all these politics, because she’d seen firsthand how cute Fung and Seoyoon had been together, sharing their poems and paintings with one another in such an innocent courtship. Then again, perhaps the fool of a romantic Fung would be better off far removed from the cutthroat politics of Central, where a promising prospective son-in-law learned about the love of his life’s engagement to another man through a public declaration. A cold way to go about it, and Yan burned with anger for Rain, Fung, Kyung, and Grandpa alike, but they were all willing to let matters lie for the sake of the greater good.

Well, for the most part. Rain was still miffed by the Ryo’s betrayal much like Yan was and refused to even meet with them for any reason besides official business, though he agreed to help Kyung with his romantic efforts towards Da’in. Out of spite most likely, as he would so love the idea of stealing Da’in away from the Ryo’s, even if it wasn’t for his own harem. The only reason he didn’t lash out and pressure the Ryo Family was because everyone advised him not to, as they were currently the second most powerful family of Central and the appearance of solidarity was vital to morale, not to mention how Rain himself spoke publicly about honour the families of the dead. Alas, Yan would much rather say this to those snakes who kept trying to take advantage of Rain’s better nature, but he was the Legate and thus expected to rise above such petty grievances.

Stopping out front of the restaurant they’d arranged to eat lunch at, Rain patted Yan’s hand and said, “Why don’t you head up first with my guards while I sneak away with Kuang Biao to collect Fung? He’s... in a house of ill-repute again, and I can’t really leave the Death Corps waiting out front where everyone can see.”

“Of course. Where else would he be?” Eyes twinkling with mischief, Yan grinned and said, “Leave the guards here, but I’m coming with. I always sort of regretted not joining you boys in the bath-houses way back during the Society Contests, and I’d like to see what’s so appealing about these sorts of places.”

“Not appealing at all,” Rain replied, and his Aura positively glowed with warmth and affection. “I could beggar myself buying company and it couldn’t compare to five minutes with you at my side.”

Silver tongued devil. Sneaking in a quick kiss, Yan broke it off before she let her emotions get away from her and said, “Good, then you won’t mind if I tag along. Which way?”

Giving up on convincing her to stay behind, Rain left all of his guards save four who could Conceal without his assistance, and they all headed towards Fung’s house of ill-repute. From the outside, it looked rather reputable and put together, not at all the gaudy affair she’d expected. Neat, tidy, and tastefully decorated, it looked more like a high class, five-storey inn than anything else, except most inns didn’t have scantily clad women posted at every window and balcony, calling, waving, and winking at prospective customers in the streets. The women were all mortal, but beautiful nonetheless, coming in all shapes, shades, and sizes with their hair done to perfection and make-up caked on thick to hide whatever minor imperfections might lay beneath.

Were Yan here for fun, she would’ve loved to find a seat somewhere nearby just to take it all in, as she already heard more than a few enticing propositions bandied about in her short time walking up to the door, though sadly, none were aimed at Rain since they were all still Concealed. Not bothering to stop to ask for directions, Rain took the stairs up to the top level without giving Yan the time to explore, though it was all much tamer than she expected. There were no women feigning reluctance as half-naked men forcibly stripped them, dancers undulating about while disrobing themselves slowly, drunkards making fools of themselves, or even a simple orgy taking place in the hallways. No, all the fun was happening behind closed doors, wood-frame paper doors that let plenty of sound through, but she could only see shadows and smoke from outside.

Tch. And here Yan thought men went to these places to really cut loose, but it seemed like most just wanted to have plain, simple sex with a woman. Prodigious stamina and appetite aside, even Rain wasn’t all that difficult to please, but Yan thought he was hiding his more perverse desires out of some misguided notion of respect for his wives. What a shame.

As it wasn’t Rain’s first time wrangling Fung away from the arms of a paid woman, he knew exactly which room to go to. Knocking before he entered, he asked, “Are you decent?”

“Never, but come in anyways my good friend!” Fung’s slurred speech told Yan he’d gotten an early start to the day, as this wastrel might well have been sloshed since he woke up this morning. After making sure Fung was clothed, Rain opened the door and stepped in while Yan followed suit, though the Death Corps stayed outside. While technically wholly covered, Fung’s loose robes left little to the imagination as he sat at the tea table with legs spread wide, and it took an effort of will for Yan not to glance down to complete the picture. His bared chest glistened with sweat and alcohol as he spilled more than he drank while draining his cup dry. “Attendant,” Fung shouted, despite the presence of six burly thugs in the room all glowering at him in concert, each one so pretty Yan wondered if they were available for hire as well. “More wine for my friend and his wife.” Lowering his voice to a loud whisper, Fung added, “Good thing you’re here. Fu Zhu Li hid my coin purse and these stingy bastards won’t let me play on credit anymore. Things were about to get ugly, but now we can have a real party.”

“No wine and no partying.” In no mood for his antics, Rain glanced around the room and grabbed the rest of Fung’s missing clothes before dropping it in the man’s lap, though Yan would’ve thought twice before touching them. “Your manservant has been nagging my ear off, so it’s time you got dressed. I’ll pay the bill and bring you home to sleep, and maybe then he’ll stop bothering me.”

“If I wanted to sleep alone at home, I wouldn’t have snuck out.” Grinning like a fool and unable to read Rain’s mood, Fung dumped his clothes back on the ground with a giggle and added, “Lend me enough to buy lovely Miss Rou out of her contract? She mentioned she’s for sale and I dismissed all my lovely ladies some months ago, so I’ve no one to keep me company anymore.”

Only now did Yan notice Fung’s companion sitting on the edge of the bed, and she did a double take when she noticed how gorgeous this Miss Rou was. There was beautiful and then there was Miss Rou, whose beauty rivalled that of Luo-Luo’s, who was easily the most beautiful woman Yan knew. Clad in a fine silken dress that covered everything, yet tastefully showed enough skin to draw the eyes to all the right places, Miss Rou sat with perfect posture to emphasize her best attributes. Long black hair, limpid autumnal eyes, pale, porcelain skin, full, kissable lips, and a bust so large and deep you could fall asleep nestled between those pillowy mounds, she looked like a fairy out of a dream rather than the prostitute she apparently was, and it was obvious why Fung was dead set on purchasing her. Hell, if he didn’t want her, Yan was tempted to buy her, even before clearing it with Rain’s other wives, because this was a catch too good to be true. The gorgeous woman even had the gall to bat her long lashes at Rain, but he didn’t even notice as he was busy picking Fung’s clothes back up off the floor. Marriage had done much to fortify his resolve, not even caring for a beauty like Luo-Luo much less Miss Rou there, whose flawless complexion showed no signs of the caked on makeup visible on the women outside.

“Fine,” Rain said, his tone understanding, but firm. “But no sampling the goods. You bring her home with you. Hurry up or I’ll be late for lunch and will have to explain to your Mentor why.”

That got Fung moving, or at least attempting to move as he lurched forward in his chair without standing. “Huh,” he said, eyes wide in confused wonder as he sank back in his chair. “Can’t seem to find my feet.”

“Alright. Yan, avert your eyes while I help him get dressed.”

As if. Crossing her arms with a smirk, she ignored Rain’s pursed lips and rolled eyes as she leaned against the wall to take in the show. A mistake, because while she relaxed and Rain moved to lift Fung to his feet, the room burst into an explosion of movement. The six thugs drew their hidden blades with a snarl and Miss Rou leaped off the bed, her double-edged sword in hand and aimed at Yan’s husband while her beautiful features were cast in an expression of cold, remorseless determination.

“Assassins!” Yan called, but even as she shouted, she knew both she and Rain’s guards were too late to act. Live or die, Rain was on his own, his arms burdened by Fung’s paralyzed body and his hands clutching discarded clothes rather than Spiritual Weapons as cold steel closed in on all sides.

All while he stood there smiling like the lovable fool he was, still yet to comprehend the danger he was in.

Chapter Meme