Three-three, three-seven, three-nine sharp, four-five sharp, four-nine flat, and five-four flat.

According to most established musicians, this was the most dissonant chord one could possibly play on a standard twenty-six string zither, and Luo-Luo wholeheartedly agreed. Not only was the resulting tone harsh and unpalatable to the ear, it was also unpleasant to play, requiring an awkward contortion of her left hand to hold down all the strings which stretched her fingers to their utmost limits. Then there was the matter of her personal pride as a musician, for playing such an awful arrangement was an insult to her cherished wutong wood zither, a hardy and serviceable instrument Mother-in-Law Sarnai purchased for her as a wedding gift. That being said, today, Luo-Luo was not utilizing her zither as an instrument, but rather as a weapon of war, so even though doing so make her skin prickle and stomach turn, she persevered knowing she was aiding the war effort in her own little way.

To say nothing of how it might help win over her formidable Mother-in-Law Sarnai, a Warrior who would wholeheartedly approve of Luo-Luo’s efforts, especially in light of the satisfying results.

From her perch atop the ship’s bow, her right hand plucked the jarring chime into existence, and the still silence of the battlefield shattered before its resounding might, so similar to what she experienced first-hand while guarding the District all those months ago. Soldiers and Defiled alike drew back from the dissonance as if physically repulsed by the inharmonious noise, and Luo-Luo’s spirits soared to see the effects of her actions even as she winced in emotional pain for having delivered it. That being said, this was still a welcome change and a refreshing relief from her usual day to day drudgery of spending every waking hour in a continued effort to hold the Outer Provinces together. It was so much easier to destroy than create, for this discordant chord wasn’t even a melody, just a series of notes played all at once that rankled in pained inharmony.

And so she played that dissonant chord a second time and beamed as the Defiled forces fell back a step, then a third time just because she could, so thrilled by her ability to actually do something productive for a change instead of constantly struggling just to keep herself and the outer provinces afloat.

For too long, she’d been stifled and stymied by Marshal Yo Jeong-Hun’s lackeys, dispatched to the Northern Citadel to supposedly assist her in her duties of Office. In truth, they were merely spies sent to report her every action back to Commander General Shuai Jiao, and they didn’t care to even try and hide it. Following Lord Husband’s injury, they’d even grown bold enough to abandon all soft tactics in an effort to strongarm her into doing their bidding, for though the Commander General had political power in spades, there were still strict limits to what the people were willing to accept with regards to his direct orders.

Not because Shuai Jiao was lacking in any way, but because the powers that be of Central had grown too accustomed to having their own way and balked at the thought of uniting under a single regional overlord. In the wake of the Obsidian Shadow Mitsue Juichi’s self-imposed social exile and Sword King Ryo Dae Jung’s untimely death, Shuai Jiao’s lofty ambitions were revealed to the world at large as he sought to consolidate the entire province under his rule, but matters were not going as smoothly as he’d hoped. As expected, since even Lord Husband in all his wisdom and brilliance was unable to rally the factions of Central behind his banner. Even the public blessing of Shen ZhenWu, an influential, highborn Imperial Noble who might well one day become the next Emperor of the Azure Sea, was not enough to unite the scattered factions of Central, so what hope could a mere Shuai Jiao have without an Imperial Noble’s overt endorsement? Not that this proved to be any sort of deterrent to the aspiring dictator, for Luo-Luo was certain he had an Imperial backer sheltering him from the shadows, one unwilling to step out into the light for reasons unknown. It was the only way to explain Shuai Jiao’s bold and aggressive tactics as his minions attempted to manipulate, deceive, coerce, and compel her into handing over Lord Husband’s Seal of Office, one which denoted him as the Emperor’s Legate of the Outer Provinces. Who it might be was anyone’s guess, but Luo-Luo had long since harboured her own suspicions which she kept to herself.

The nature of Imperial politics was to plot schemes within schemes, all carried out by cat’s-paws seeking to curry favour. Though she had yet to confirm her suspicions, the lack of action from the Supreme Families after Yang Jixing’s death and Grand Marshal Liang Bao Zhen’s willingness to appoint Lord Husband to the Office of Minister of Finance spoke volumes to the situation. Add in everything Lord Husband told her of his interactions with his patron, and her own interaction with Administrator Liang Yin Hang, the Grand Marshal’s lackey here to keep tabs on Lord Husband’s Office of Finance, it was clear the Liang Family had set their sights on the Outer Provinces and were claiming it under the pretence that doing so fell under the jurisdiction of their familial responsibilities.

Why else would a noble of such high-standing like Shen ZhenWu be dispatched to oversee the defence of the outer provinces? The Defiled invasion should have rightly fallen under the Xing Family’s purview, the Emperor’s military advisors, or at the very least, someone representing the Royal General, who traditionally also hailed from the Xing Family. What’s more, why would the current Liang family head and Grand Marshal travel all the way to the Outer Provinces just to personally appraise Lord Husband and test his knowledge and intelligence? Clearly War Bonds and Treasury Notes were only an excuse, because while the prospect of conjuring nigh-infinite amounts of coin out of thin air was tempting indeed, the Liang Family was hardly lacking in wealth to begin with. Just as the Xing Family traditionally served as military advisors, the Liang Family were the Emperor’s financial overseers, tasked with protecting the Empire’s economic and mercantile interests. Revolutionary though War Bonds and Treasury Notes might be, it was hardly enough to move the Grand Marshal from the Eastern Province, even if he could Cloud-Step away and back within a handful of days.

All this and more told Luo-Luo that there was more than mere greed motivating the Liang Family to go to such great lengths, though what those motivations might be were beyond her ability to even guess at. Two things were for certain however, that dominion over the Outer Provinces was now part and parcel of the eternal power struggle between the Five Supreme Families, and Lord Husband had been unlucky enough to get caught in the fray. Regardless of the reasons, it was clear the Liang Family held the upper hand when it came to expanding their base of power into the Outer Provinces, and Lord Husband’s promotion to Minister of Finance was a means to undermine how much influence the other Supreme Families could bring to bear. As such, Lord Husband was the figurehead being used to keep the outer provinces in line, so how could the Liang Family turn a blind eye to Shuai Jiao efforts to replace him?

They wouldn’t, not without reprisal, which meant the Liang Family had given Shuai Jiao permission to pursue his ambitions, if not tacitly encouraging them from the shadows. For this reason and many more, Luo-Luo suspected that Shuai Jiao’s mysterious Imperial backer was none other than Shen ZhenWu himself, playing both sides against one another in order to keep Lord Husband’s unbridled nature in check.

A bad portent of tribulations to come, because if Shen ZhenWu ultimately decided to back a different horse, then it was only a matter of time before he cut all ties with Lord Husband in what could only be a disastrous manner. As Minister of Finance and Legate of the Outer Provinces, Lord Husband’s star was shining too brightly to let a mere self-proclaimed Commander General overshadow him, but the people of the Empire would not sit idly by if such a beloved and talented young hero were to meet his end at the hands of his fellow countrymen. Not unless Lord Husband made some grievous mistake, which Luo-Luo suspected was supposed to have happened when he barged in on Shuai Jiao’s meeting with the Sword King’s widow, Jeong Hyo-Lynn. The entire meeting had likely been a trap, with Shen ZhenWu himself present no doubt, wholly recovered from the injuries he took in the Central Citadel and there to personally attest to Lord Husband’s ‘crimes’ after he ‘predictably’ threatened Shuai Jiao with death should he fail to bend the knee. Thankfully, even without Luo-Luo’s advice, Lord Husband was too clever for them by far, using soft tactics and a subtle threat instead of outright military might, leaving even the prospective heir to the Empire unable to act. An offer of alliance spoken out loud followed by the reveal of a Concealed assassin standing in their midst, Luo-Luo would have loved to have seen Shen ZhenWu’s expression at that moment, but alas, Lord Husband wasn’t even aware his patron had likely been quietly sitting in on the meeting.

Of course, there were many other reasons for Luo-Luo to suspect Shen ZhenWu, including the presence of one ‘Miss Rou’, the supposed courtesan who tried to assassinate Lord Husband shortly before he set out for the West. Even he was able to see that there was more to her than meets the eye, but again, Luo-Luo kept her suspicions to herself. For personal reasons like fear and jealousy, yes, but also because explaining her suspicions would directly violate the Imperial Mandate Shen ZhenWu issued to her during their first meeting ever, one prohibiting her from revealing his true identity. Loyal as she was to Lord Husband and her new family, she knew violating an Imperial Mandate would force the issue on both sides, as Shen ZhenWu would not forgive so blatant a transgression while Lord Husband and the Bekhai would not willingly hand her over for execution.

Luo-Luo was most fortunate indeed to have been bestowed to Lord Husband, rather than someone petty and small-minded like the barely recognizable Mitsue Hideo standing on the docks before her. Had he not announced his name in so arrogant a fashion, she would not have believed that this was the same bald, slender youth from memory, a man who was middling in all aspects including height, appearance, and talent. The one standing before bore a full head of hair, but this was the least of his changes. A towering giant of monstrous proportions clad in stately, too-tight robes, his outfit made the rippling muscles on his barrel-chest and trunk-like arms painfully apparent. His vein-studded neck was almost indistinguishable from the muscles protruding from his back and shoulders, and despite his almost complete transformation, the staggering increase in size and volume made it appear as if his head was still the same size as before. It had grown, just not in proportion to the rest of him, which resulted in his head seeming comically tiny, but Luo-Luo was unable to muster up any mirth when faced with the despicable expression of wild lust and unrestrained hatred etched across his repulsive face.

Memories of seeing him pounce upon her with a howl of pure fury flashed through Luo-Luo’s mind, and her shoulder throbbed with phantom pain where his teeth tore a chunk from her unblemished flesh. Fear’s icy grip clutched her heart from within as she relived those horrific moments again, when she lay helpless and bleeding in the grass as he ripped her clothes and pawed at her chest while responding to her attempts to stop him with violence and savagery both. The pain, the humiliation, the horror and violation, it all came flooding back to her in an instant and left her helpless and weak once more. Here on the field of battle, they would fight again, and again, Luo-Luo knew she was destined to lose, except this time, Mother-in-Law Sarnai wasn’t here to protect her.

No need to be afraid. I’m here with you. I’m sorry you suffered so terribly in my absence and neglect, but I will never allow anyone to bully you again, because you are mine to bully and mine alone.

Warm and tender emotion welled up from within to free her from fear’s obstinate grip, and Luo-Luo recognized the teasing yet affectionate sentiment behind it. Lord Husband was here, not just physically laid out on the docks below, but here with her on the ship itself, inside her heart, mind, and soul. He’d come in her time of need to help her through this trial and tribulation, somehow speaking to her without words or images yet communicating his intentions all the same. The message was regrettably short and contained a wealth of emotions and information which would take Luo-Luo hours to wholly interpret and comprehend, but on the surface, he wanted her to know that he was here to help and would sooner die than allow her to come to harm.

This was the sincere, unmitigated truth, one Lord Husband wholeheartedly intended to fulfil, for while baring his heart and soul to her, he stumbled across everything she’d been hiding within. Not just the fear and shame from her ignoble defeat, but all the loneliness and uncertainty stemming from a lifetime spent in pursuit of excellence only to be left by the wayside to be slowly forgotten. Embarrassed as she was to have all her insecurities laid bare, Lord Husband’s response was wholly unexpected, for rather than pity, commiseration, surprise, or disbelief, he radiated silent understanding and shared empathy, for he too knew how she felt.

To the world at large, he was Falling Rain, the Undying Savage turned Legate of the Outer Provinces. A young talent unlike any other, he shone brighter than any star in the sky and rose higher and faster than any dragon who came before him. This was a man who others called the Mother’s Chosen Son, some out of sheer awe, and others out of thinly veiled jealousy for what they saw as luck and happenstance. As if mere luck could explain Falling Rain’s meteoric rise to fame, fortune, strength, and glory, for he was not a man destined for greatness, but one who set himself upon that path through sheer merit and perseverance alone. Had he chosen a different path to pursue, his dedication, intelligence, and cunning would have set him far above his peers and launched him to the forefront of the field. The only thing keeping him from surpassing all others in spectacular fashion was his complete and utter lack of ambition, unwilling to do more than what was necessary to survive when he could instead dominate his competition with an iron fist.

Take his mercantile interests which Luo-Luo helped manage for example. Coming up with new products was one thing that could be attributed to luck, but what of his ingenious and inventive economical tools like compound interest, purchased futures, War Bonds? Difficult to say where he learned it from, but Lord Husband possessed an understanding of large-scale economics that even Luo-Luo’s teachers would be amazed at. How many times did he enter into a long-term contract with unfavourable terms just because he knew profit was merely a secondary benefit? Or because the actual profits of the endeavour were meaningless, since he himself intended to be buyer and seller? Or because he’d thought of a different way to benefit and added terms in his favour that no one else recognized as such? Too many times to count, to say nothing of all the times when he showed mercy simply because he had no interest in obtaining a monopoly. “Competition is great,” he once said, grinning from ear to ear after she reported of lowered cast iron profit margins because of it. “So long as we keep wages high, our competition will have no choice but to find means to cut costs elsewhere, and so long as they continue selling a quality product, then this will only benefit us all in the end.” A simple truth, yet one Luo-Luo and almost every other merchant in existence had overlooked in their greed, to say nothing of his atypical outlook on property ownership. In his eyes, a thriving business was merely a commodity no different from any other, rather than the life’s blood of his success. While some might argue it was because he had more brilliant ideas than he had time to implement them, it was a novel and intriguing outlook with more than promising prospects, for it was far easier to buy a flagging business and improve upon its model than building one from the ground up. Selling was even easier, since most merchants only saw the profits and were largely unaware of the additional hidden costs, leading most prospective buyers to sorely overvalue a profitable company by no small amount.

And this was merely one aspect of his multi-faceted talents, for Falling Rain was a man who excelled in almost everything he tried his hand at. Whether it be something as simple and mundane as cooking and pharmacy, as complex and convoluted as politics and military command, or something even beyond that like mathematics and literature, Lord Husband demonstrated no small amount of talent and success in each and every one of these fields. How many others could say the same? There were countless Peak Experts in the Empire, and yet how many of them were truly masters in a secondary pursuit? Aside from Chen Hongji’s poetry, Father-in-Law Husolt’s forging, and the Tyrant OuYang Yuhuan’s Runic craftsmanship, Luo-Luo would be hard pressed to name a fourth, yet Lord Husband was well on his way to joining their ranks at the tender age of twenty-two.

In spite of all his efforts and achievements however, the Falling Rain reflected in Lord Husband’s eyes was an entirely different person. It all stemmed from how he placed no value on his many achievements. Wealth? Useful to have, but he already had more than he would ever need and yearned for a simple life back home in the mountains. Authority? The only use he had for this was to ensure others would not abuse it, else Luo-Luo imagined he would have long since given up rank and Office both. Prestige? In his own words, a fancy title and two coppers would buy him a grilled skewer from the market, which showed just how little he cared for Imperial Peerage and authority. Strength? So what if he was stronger than other Warriors his age? A Peak Expert could still kill him outright, so why would it matter if he was a little stronger than chaff?

Others saw his casual contempt for his lofty achievements as deep-seated arrogance, because it was, but not in the way everyone believed. It wasn’t vanity and conceit which caused him to behave in this manner, but rather the harsh and stringent demands he placed upon himself. If he needed money, authority, prestige, strength, or anything else to facilitate his goals, then nothing short of overwhelming success was acceptable. Minor success was a failure in his eyes, meaning he expected himself to excel at everything because he believed he needed to excel, and thus, regular success was no cause for celebration.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Luo-Luo felt the same way while excelling in her studies, because it was only natural she outshine her peers, for she was a first-generation Imperial Servant. The difference was that Luo-Luo’s pressure came from external factors, whereas Lord Husband placed all this pressure upon himself, for reasons she could not entirely understand. Nor could she imagine what it must be like for him, because even though she always set high standards for herself, she took pride in her accomplishments unlike Lord Husband. Since he truly believed he had nothing of value, that reflected in his internalized self-worth, leading him to view himself as someone who was worthless and without merit. Others saw a rising dragon with limitless prospects, but he saw himself as a failure and a disgrace, which did his self-esteem no favours.

This was the true reason why he was so wary of Luo-Luo. He liked to claim it was for other reasons, such as lack of trust, which was an outright lie because she’d won him over with her diligent efforts, or that he had a contrary personality, which was true except it had no bearing on their relationship. While he believed circumstances were unfair to Luo-Luo and he wanted their marriage to be based on love rather than mutual benefit, that wasn’t what was stopping him from indulging in his lust, nor was it the guilt from loving so many women. No, the true reason he kept his emotions in check was so sweet and sad at the same time that it brought tears to her eyes, for only now did she understand how little he thought of himself and how much he thought of her. When he saw Luo-Luo, he saw a beautiful, brilliant, talented, hard-working woman who could have any man she wanted, so he couldn’t imagine a world in which she would truly want anything to do with him.

Because in his eyes, he was not Falling Rain, Legate of the Outer Provinces, an intelligent, indomitable, indefatigable rising dragon whose achievements would stand unmatched for thousands of years. He was not a peerless young talent, brilliant merchant, devious politician, ingenious mathematician, erudite scholar, or any one of the other remarkable titles he could lay claim to. No, in his eyes, he was a short, scrawny, awkward and eccentric former slave, one so terrified of being hurt he would rather reject all her advances than risk learning her feelings were not real. That was the true reason he refused to accept her as his concubine, consort, or wife, because he knew he would fall head over heels in love and was terrified she would not return his feelings in kind, the same way he was terrified his other wives would one day discover who he ‘really’ was and leave him for good.

What an idiot Luo-Luo’s Lord Husband truly was, the greatest idiot unrivalled by anyone under the Heavens.

All this and more flashed through Luo-Luo’s heart and mind in the blink of an eye, and her understanding of Lord Husband deepened to an unimaginable degree. Before today, she truly didn’t understand him at all, but now she knew they had far more in common than she would ever have imagined. Though she yearned to connect with him on an even deeper level, his lingering presence was wholly lacking in cognizance and fading faster than she could gather her thoughts, much less share them in any meaningful way. The personal touch of his emotion had long since decayed, but even the memory of it was enough to keep her warm and safe while surging through her Core in ways she’d never before experienced. Balance had never been an issue for her, but now the Energy of the Heavens almost felt alive as it danced upon her fingertips in eager anticipation of what came next, and Luo-Luo moved in accordance to its will, which just so happened to match her own.

The lingering echoes of her third and final discordant chord still hung heavily in the air, but as satisfying as it might have been to strike at the Enemy so, she realized this was not in accordance with her Dao. Luo-Luo was no Warrior, but a musician first, and everything else was secondary to this singular ambition. Music was her passion, her ambition, her first true love, and she realized that it was not the playing of the dissonant chord that insulted her precious zither, but rather the intent behind it. Since she was a child, she’d loved the zither and the music she played upon its strings, and she went to bed most nights dreaming of using her talents to bring joy and cheer to all who heard it. Perhaps her initial passion was artificial, driven by the shared character in her name, Zheng Luo, and the zither, Gu-Zheng, and her motives impure, a drive to show her parents that they’d erred in offering so talented a daughter to the Emperor, but her love of music was as real and untainted as could be.

So how could she bear to use the music she loved to injure others, even if they were Defiled? No, music was meant to lift the spirit and stimulate emotions, so that was what she would do.

Taking a deep breath as she stilled the strings with the palms of her hands, Luo-Luo reached inwards and found the song she wished to share. Her fingers plucked out the notes as they came to mind, one rousing chime at a time, a melody instilled with her Chi and emotions as it sounded all throughout Meng Sha. It was far from a complex or engaging tune, a simple and delightful composition that even little Tali could learn, but as Luo-Luo grew more familiar with this sort of improvisational composition, she found her confidence and pushed herself to excel. Soon enough, a lively, rousing tune emerged from her fingertips, so rich and resonant it warmed her to the core, and though there were no other instruments to be heard, she soon realized she was not playing alone, for her melody was being accompanied by the raucous sounds of battle as the soldiers of the Empire resumed their conflict with the Enemy. Clashing steel and stomping boots served as the baseline of her song, while rousing cries and harrowing wails formed the harmonies and counter-melodies which she played along, a symphony which lifted spirits and refreshed minds to enable her allies to fight that much harder.

This was her Dao of Music, one played to the rhythm of war and arranged alongside the lyrical verses of life and death.

Though the effect was not as obvious as with her dissonant chord, and she knew little of how to read a battle, she sensed the spirits of the gathered Imperial soldiers lifting as she played, and they fought that much harder because of it. There was a darkness lingering in the air of Meng Sha, a heavy, ugly cloud that clung to the mind and body both, but with each note and chord of her spirited melody, she felt the darkness dissipate just a little more and knew she’d done something to alleviate the burdens on her enduring allies. This sort of music was more suited to her disposition, for she was never one to tear others down, but a woman who sought to live up to her own ideals while challenging others to keep up. For this reason alone, her generation of Imperial Servants was widely accepted as the most talented bunch in the last decade, for as Lord Husband once said, a rising tide raises all ships, which was exactly what Luo-Luo hoped to accomplish here.

Of course, this did not mean she’d forgotten all about Mitsue Hideo, for the moment she felt she could spare the attention, she glanced down to see how he fared, and what she saw there was so surprising she almost stopped playing out of shock. Though her tentative grasp of her Dao nearly slipped away, she recovered quickly enough without missing a beat, and she could not help but shake her head in disbelief. Down on the wooden docks was none other than sweet and delicate Mei Lin, her hands and arms wrapped in her inseparable white scarf as she traded blows with her gargantuan foe. Oh how it pained Luo-Luo’s heart to see the impish Lin-Lin in such danger, but the sweet girl wore a wide-eyed expression paired with a devilish, open-mouthed grin which spelled hardship and misfortune for her unlucky target, and thus far, she was living up to expectations.

They were both so fast Luo-Luo could only barely track their individual movements, and the afterimages of their bodies traced a trail through the air that spoke to her and reminded her of what she experienced in the District. Not her ignoble defeat at Hideo’s hands, but before, during the battle itself. At the time, it felt like the world had come together to sing her a song to dance to, a dance of battle and bloodshed both. Following the steps laid out before her, Luo-Luo had put up a stalwart defence against her formidable foe as her Sceptre came alive and danced alongside her. Everything made sense in the moment, her actions guided by instinct and intent rather than method or strategy. With more than a little help from the Heavens and her dance partner, her body moulded the Movements of the Forms to her bidding. Had the contemptible thick-browed monk not interrupted her with his dissonant chants, Luo-Luo might well have emerged victorious in their match, but that was a different matter altogether. The important thing was that during this that one singular battle, the winds of Insight carried Luo-Luo high into the skies to experience the Dao, higher than she ever thought possible as the Heavens showed her the course she should take and how far her steps could carry her if she cared to follow through, and she had not missed a single day of practice ever since.

And today, Luo-Luo saw what lay beyond her limits at the pinnacle of a similar path, as Lin-Lin danced to a melody all of her own and the world scrambled to accompany her.

When viewed in isolation, Lin-Lin’s individual movements were neither profound nor out of the ordinary, movements which for all intents and purposes seemed like Lin-Lin being Lin-Lin. From the tilt of her head as she skipped about, to the carefree manner in which she swung her arms whilst twirling about, it almost seemed as if she were out and about on a lark while living the best life she could imagine, rather than embroiled in a bitter life and death match against a foe three times her size. The lack of height and reach didn’t affect her however, for every move she made seemed tailor made to set her up for success, living up to her heritage of a Cloud Chaser Hare as she skirted about left, right, and over Hideo’s head in daring and daunting acrobatic acts.

Every exchange set Luo-Luo’s heart to racing, for the margin for Lin-Lin’s safety seemed razor thin. A powerful front kick surged past her shoulder as she pivoted out of the way, as if she were headed out the door and suddenly remembered to grab something she’d forgotten inside. A grasping palm threatened to engulf her in Hideo’s grip, but she hopped back and sailed out of reach on invisible currents of wind before landing. A dizzying flurry of strikes shot past her as she ducked, dipped, dived, and dodged out of the way, keeping just out of Hideo’s reach as if playing a game of tag with the wildcats who could never catch her unless she allowed it. All the while, Lin-Lin’s smile never wavered and instead grew even larger as time passed, the impish half-hare thoroughly enjoying this cat and mouse game.

A meteoric right hook missed by a mere eyelash as Lin-Lin somersaulted over the attack, except somehow, her wrapped hands redirected Hideo’s punch and momentum to bring him along with her whimsical movements. As Lin-Lin tumbled through the air, Hideo was dragged head over heels behind her, circling about once, then twice before being thrown back into the crowd with a look of befuddled confusion etched across his face. This slowed him down none as he rebounded back to his feet, landing lightly and pouncing at Lin-Lin before she set foot on the ground, only to run past where she was supposed to land as she stretched her arms out to each side and stepped upon empty air to leap even higher overhead. A Cloud-Step¸ so dainty and graceful Luo-Luo almost overlooked how astonishing such an accomplishment really was, for now, there was a second Cloud-Stepping young talent besides Lord Husband, the lovable and adorable little Mei Lin.

Undaunted by this phenomenal display of skill and acrobatics, Hideo turned about and aimed another front kick at where he expected Lin-Lin to appear. This time he was right on target, only a half-second too early as she landed softly atop his shin before hopping back and away with her tongue outstretched. Even in the midst of battle, Lin-Lin refused to miss an opportunity to taunt someone, and she even giggled as she ducked under his follow-up punch and slid past his legs, pulling his feet out from under him along the way. After crashing face first into the ground, Hideo recovered instantly and returned to the fight, but Lin-Lin was equally prepared, ‘catching’ his subsequent punch with one hand and redirecting it so smoothly it looked as if Hideo had simply missed his target. This happened eight more times in succession, before she caught his next attack in both hands, but instead of redirecting him away, she leaned back and spun in place while dragging him along once more. Three revolutions later, she sent him soaring off into the crowd once more, bowling over his allies along the way. Again, he hopped to his feet without injury, but this time, he held his ground. After a half second of suspense, sweet Lin-Lin had the gall to fake yawn as if bored of waiting for his next attack, a childish taunt she used to great effect. Cheeks red with fury and frustration, Hideo clenched his jaw so hard Luo-Luo could almost hear his teeth grinding before turning his attention away from his foe, for he finally noticed that she had yet to truly attack. As such, rather than continue to humiliate himself against her, he decided it would be better to attack Lord Husband as he lay comatose on the docks, making no effort to hide his intent as he sprinted over towards his helpless target.

Never before had Luo-Luo seen anyone move so fast, not unless they were a Peak Expert or Lord Husband. One moment Lin-Lin was bouncing in place, and the next she was sailing over Hideo’s head. Time seemed to stop for an instant as the two of them lined up, one with his boots on the ground, and the other just overhead with her feet pointed skyward and hands reaching down towards her foe. Ruthless was the only word to describe the look in Lin-Lin’s eyes, a woman looking down at someone she already considered dead, and Luo-Luo reflected on how mistaken she’d been to call this a game of cat and mouse. While Hideo might well be a cat, a feral and unruly beast of fang and fury, sweet and amicable Lin-Lin was surely no mouse. No, she was a Cloud-Chaser Hare, and though she was even more adorable and lovable than sweet Blackjack, one should never overlook his voracious, carnivorous appetite which spoke volumes of the prodigious hunter he would grow up to be.

And young though Lin-Lin might be, it seemed she had already come into her own fangs as the edges of her scarf-wrapped palms traced a trail along her foe’s thick neck as she sailed through the air and landed lightly in front of Lord Husband. Bloody mist sprayed out from both sides of Hideo’s head as his charge slowed to a stop and clamped his hands over his injuries in an effort to keep from bleeding out, and the look in his eyes told Luo-Luo that he was finally taking the full measure of his foe after this close brush with death. For the first time since the battle started, Lin-Lin’s smile was nowhere to be found as she puffed her cheeks and huffed, “A blockhead is what you are, in more ways than one. You think you can hurt my hubby with me here? Give up and die already, ya?”

Lust and rage intermingled in Hideo’s gaze, but Luo-Luo saw in there something she recognized from her own battle against him, something she’d missed in the moment and only suspected was there after the fact, but now, she could clearly see his mounting fear and hesitation. The fragile ego of a greenhouse genius, as Lord Husband would say, too unfamiliar with hardship and defeat to be worth a damn. In his eyes, defeat was the best teacher followed soon after by pain, and Lord Husband was a most diligent student to both. In contrast, Hideo’s defeats could be counted on two hands, meaning that as soon as uncertainty entered into the mix, his courage and conviction would falter like a delicate flower exposed to the wind and rain.

“You’re an Ancestral Beast,” he snarled, his booming voice drowning out the din of battle and Luo-Luo’s music both, though she kept playing in spite of the interference and her own personal surprise. “Fighting me is a violation of the Treaty, and we would be well within our rights to retaliate.”

That certainly put a damper on things as both sides stepped back out of personal concern for their own safety, though it would make no difference at all if the battle for Meng Sha should turn into a contest of Divinities. Everyone inside the fortress would likely die in the first exchange, alongside every living creature within five kilometres save for those the other Divinities could save, but that was all besides the fact. Even Luo-Luo had to stop playing her zither, for her mind had frozen at the startling implications of such an accusation, one which would almost be laughable if not for Lin-Lin’s superlative skills she only just displayed. If the sweet girl was truly an Ancestral Cloud Chaser Hare and not a half-beast like she claimed to be, then the Bekhai were facing a calamity of untold proportions once word of this spread.

For there was no more tempting a prize than a breeding pair of Ancestral Beasts, because any children they birthed were sure to become Divinities themselves, a prospect which would move even the Emperor Himself.

Something to be wary of in the future, but first, Lin-Lin would have to survive the battle here today. “There really is no cure for idiocy,” Lin-Lin replied in her customary sing-song manner, shaking her head side to side in childish taunt while punctuating her statement with an emphatic, “Stooopid. The Treaty is meant to keep Divinities from turning the Empire into an uninhabitable wasteland.”

“…and You’re an Ancestral Beast!”

Hideo’s emphatic repetition was so tinged with desperation Luo-Luo could not help but smile as Lin-Lin rolled her eyes, a gesture so obvious and exaggerated it could be seen even from behind. “Yea? So what? That doesn’t mean I’m a Divinity, you stinky blockhead. I’m only twenty years old, so I’m not strong enough to be bound by the Treaty just yet. Right Daddy?”

“Absolutely, sweet Lin-Lin.” Stood on the docks next to Lord Husband, the Medical Saint revealed himself to the crowd with what Luo-Luo supposed was what he thought was a confident expression, but he was clearly worried about his beloved daughter whom he doted upon so much, his fists clenched and shoulders hunched as if ready and raring to slap Hideo to death should the need arise. “You’re not Divinity just yet, so no Treaty is being broken here.”

“Such sophistry, such sin. Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo.” The traitor Wisdom Vyakhya made his presence known, appearing behind Hideo with palms pressed together in prayer. “The girl is clearly no Warrior, yet enlightened in ways no mere mortal could ever hope to compare. Surely her actions are in violation of the spirit of the Treaty, if not the words themselves. Such a transgression cannot be left unpunished, lest it encourage others to follow suit and bring calamity down upon us all.”

“To think, you would decry sophistry whilst spouting such hypocrisy. Do you even remember the man you once were? This monk thinks not, else you would see how far you have fallen.” Stepping off the ship with an audible sigh, the Abbot appeared in front of Lin-Lin while warding off an unseen attack, one almost no one in the crowd would have noticed, for it left no visual or audible trace at all. Luo-Luo only sensed it at the periphery of her perceptions, a notion that something had taken place between the two monks, something beyond her meagre comprehension.

“So you still draw breath yet,” Vyakhya hissed, his gaze igniting in fury and fear both, yet again, Luo-Luo found it difficult to say just how she knew he was afraid, for he showed no visible signs of fear on the surface.

“In spite of all your best efforts, yes.” Removing a wooden fish drum from his sleeve, the Abbot set to knocking out a beat with his drum stick, one that set Luo-Luo’s spirits to soaring the same way she imagined her music had made others feel earlier. “You also know that Mitsue Hideo here has also stepped beyond the realm of mortal limits, though this monk senses he did not cross the threshold unaided.”

“I am Hideo!” All but howling the statement, his vehement overreaction spoke volumes to his deep denial, as if the familiar family name brought him too much pain to even consider. “Heroic Heavenly Guardian Hi-dei-oh.” Only now did Luo-Luo understand what he’d been talking about earlier, listing out the radicals that made up his name. An elegant name for so graceless a beast, but her admiration was directed towards Hideo’s father, not Hideo himself.

“If you’re making changes, might as well change your family name to ‘Idiot’ while you’re at it,” Lin-Lin retorted, and there were actually soldiers who chortled at her childish response. “Also, can you baldy monks get out of the way now? I was just about to kill him, ya? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they put the right name on your funeral tablet, Idiot Hideo.”

“If you wish to fight, then this monk will take Junior Brother’s place.” The hateful thick-browed monk stepped forward yet again, but round and jovial Monk Happy appeared to greet him without his customary smile, but not without reason. Difficult for a man to smile while pointing a weapon at his former brother, and not even Monk Happy was immune to such grim happenings, but he was determined to fight nonetheless.

For long seconds, silence hung over the battlefield, and Luo-Luo waited with bated breath to see what would happen next, only to be taken completely by surprise as the ship under her shifted abruptly in place. A spray of sand erupted along the beach followed by a thunderous crash, but before the dust had yet to settle, Major General Han BoHai was revealed as the source of the disturbance as he pummelled a three-faced Demon with an incoherent scream of rage. The rest of the combatants in Meng Sha followed suit half a beat later, and Luo-Luo resumed playing her zither even as the boat rocked violently in place, determined to understand her Dao of Music and incorporate it into her Martial Path.

Even though she could now rest easy knowing how to best win Lord Husband over, Luo-Luo still wanted to pursue the Dao and see how far it would take her. Rumours had it that Lord Husband was on the threshold of Divinity, and with Lin-Lin destined to arrive there as well, they were both sure to outlive Luo-Luo unless she became a Divinity herself. Never before did she ever consider this an option, but now that she understood Falling Rain better than ever, she was motivated to give it her all. Her sweet, beloved fool of a Lord Husband feared nothing more than losing his loved ones, and Luo-Luo suspected she would need several lifetimes to teach the stubborn man the errors of his ways.

Chapter Meme