And so, he did.
Paragraph by paragraph, Jiehong intellectually tackled the densely written content. He worked his way through every line. If he encountered an unknown word, he used his dictionary to look it up. If he didn't understand a paragraph's main idea, he re-read the paragraph until he did understand. Even if he had to re-read a dozen times -- or two dozen, as was the case more than once. What Jiehong prized was understanding as much as he could about the material before he had to put it up for the day.
His enthusiasm aside, Jiehong remained an ordinary youth of merely sixteen. Private tutors could only take a bright lad so far when he saw them but once a week. Two hours turned to three. By the end, four crept up on him. Which was when he knew he had to give it less. Jiehong pushed the scroll away then reclined in his chair. Jiehong rubbed his temples. He had a headache.
Stretching and yawning, Jiehong saw the nearby librarian and said, "I've finally had it. It got me good!"
They waved Jiehong out and said in a strange accent, "Silly boy. Don't see many intellectuals. Are you preparing for advanced classes?"
Laughing. Jiehong couldn't help it. He managed to say, politely, "No. You have it all wrong. I am curious. I would be attending university soon, had the war not called me to the front."
"Boys. Boys and fighting. Lordy. Someday I hope you all learn how to cry. Save a lot of trouble for a lot of people!"
Blood rushed to Jiehong's face. He felt embarrassed. How does one respond to that? Jiehong's response was not to respond; old people say odd things, sometimes, Jie concluded and smiled as she looked his way.
"Emotions aside, it's what I need to do," Jiehong stated, re-setting the conversation.
"I know. I know. And you will do fine!" the librarian said, patting him gently on his back in a motherly way. "Now, off you go. Young man like you shouldn't be inside all day looking at parchment! Go -- go! Go eat a carrot and watch the clouds, or whatever it is you kids do these days for fun!"
Jiehong gave the librarian a chuckle. Then did as she thought was important and went off for the day. His stomach rumbled for some food anyway.
With coin in his pocket, Jiehong could go anywhere. But a place like Hope-Ridge, though a larger city for the territory, still was hardly larger than a few villages put together. Wealthier people were moving here, yes, but only because, as far as Jiehong could see, the 'rebellion' situation was making life difficult for certain people of a certain class. Hope-Ridge happened to be just close enough for a desperate and displaced category of landlords to flee toward despite something called a 'peasant's assembly' controlling the city.
Desperation pulls on desperation, Jiehong mouthed as he entered a tavern and saw all too many idle feet wondering what they could do with their misfortunes. Refugees everywhere we go. If the war doesn't end, where will they go? Will they flee south, to where the Expanse has yet to attack? Is it actually possible to flee the expanse? A whole nation cannot simply move across borders. Not indefinitely, somewhere along the line, a country will say, 'no.' And when that happens, then what? Same choice. Will they choose to live under the heel of the Expanse? If 'no,' then what? What will happen to them? And me.
Jiehong entered the tavern, sat down, and rang a nearby bell for service. He ordered a meaty stew with some bread.
Too quickly the meal appeared before him. Jiehong rubbed his eyes. He couldn't stop yawning. Stopping the barmaid before she could return to her duties, Jiehong asked her, "do you have any hot bean juice?"
"We sure do, hun," she said and scampered off to quickly bring him a strong cup of the local brew.
Bitter, mildly chocolatey, thin. Those were the words Jiehong used to describe the coffee's flavor. None of the words he enjoyed. Yet he drank the whole cup down for just the energy boost it provided.
Feeling one hundred percent more energized, Jiehong had a curious idea. "Say, ma'am," he said, hailing one of the barmaids. "These beans. Are they for sale by any chance? Could I buy a bag of them?"
"Let me ask the owner really quick! I will be right back!" she said before setting off.
A few minutes later she returned. During that time Jiehong did jack-of-all. He could appreciate the interior of the tavern more, being more awake and thus more applied. But that was it. Standard tavern style. Nothing much more to say about it than that.
"The owner says you can have a full bag for one silver," the barmaid told him.
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"One silver, eh?" Jiehong said, talking aloud. Jiehong thought a full silver for a bag was on the expensive end. Especially with the beans already being whole, Jiehong would have to grind them himself; thus, the owner couldn't even say he was charging for convenience. Throw in the fact the beans were of an iffy quality, Jiehong nearly said no. He argued at the last moment with himself and struck the winning blow: it doesn't matter the price or quality. Coffee beans for fresh brewed coffee would pay for themselves several times over in the field. "Yes. I will take two bags, please," Jiehong said. "Add it to my bill today."
With more beans than he thought he needed in hand, Jiehong left the tavern. If he stayed any longer, he would need another currency transfusion from his parents. Last night had been magical. Jiehong wanted to keep it that way least the next time he saw his parents they were back to their old ways.
Jiehong looked to the sky. It was past noon.
He decided to find a public square and sift through the contents of his satchel. It was feeling heavy with the beans now inside. There was a three partially Rescue Kits Zan had bought for them with part of his Sunstar credit; then he had assorted pieces of gear he was not yet wearing as the temperature was not right, such as hats and mittens provided by the Wardens, specifically Sigma-Prime; trinkets and currencies then filled part of the remaining space. Finally, the last object to fill his satchel were fliers he had grabbed a couple of days ago when Colonel Winters came into town and Jiehong rushed to meet Whiskey.
No matter the flier, Jiehong read each he had grabbed. Most were for assorted spiritual groups. Not churches. Groups.
Hobby groups were the most common. These groups were interest-based and usually had nothing more to do with spiritual practice than a glossing of worship or faith. They might talk once in a while about how their spirituality and the hobby intersect, but they did nothing more than that, talk, and far too little about the contours of their faith.
Jiehong saw a few genuine churches represented in the pamphlets. One pamphlet was for a group called the Blank Denomination. Jiehong knew nothing about them as an organization, but his parents had talked about them several times. 'Not fans,' would be a drastic underestimation of how much his parents hated the Blank Denomination. "When you stand for everything, you stand for nothing," his father had a habit of saying.
His parents and their distaste for the denomination aside, it was never an issue beyond a few rants during what they described as 'the political season.'
Tossing out the pamphlet for the Blank Denomination with the others which he crumpled on and threw into the wastebin, Jiehong finished reading the tiny papers he had grabbed. Only one caught his eye. It was for an engineer core called 'Praline.'
As an organization, Praline advertised themselves as pro-royal, hard-working, and 'dressed up' in the 'down of the day.' Which meant they fancied themselves as sophisticated but not so sophisticated they weren't one-in-the-same with the commoners. They did a lot of charity work. Disaster relief, emergency construction and re-construction work, general contractor work, anything which dealt with the functioning of society. They claimed a position for everyone who wanted to help. Being under the royal seal, they were a nationwide group. This and other facts brought Jiehong to their local office.
They're only a civil group, Jiehong reminded himself. The parents will have issue with me joining them. Only so much career advanced in a civil society. But Jiehong did not plan on staying in the group indefinitely. He wanted to join to get a head on his affairs in the public sphere. That and to show the outside world that whatever his fellow Order member believed in, such as Whiskey the Rebel, he was proud, pro-king, and loyal to his home to the end.
A few people puttered about in Praline's office. None of them looked excited to be there. Jiehong knew enough about life to know that wasn't a good sign, or so according to the passing merchants which traveled through his village. Jiehong wouldn't know how it felt to show up to work every day and do the same job day-in and day-out. He was a warrior and a teen. Manual laboring wasn't ever his specialty. Especially not when, as a younger lad, he received more specialized training to help his village's leader.
He walked to the counter and said, "I am interested. Give me the sale of why I should join."
The clerk's face sparked up. They went on a tirade which never seemed to end. Jiehong didn't much care for it, but it was part of the situation. He endured the verbiage and waited for the clerk to stop.
After the clerk finished explaining the many different sectors of Praline and how management settled on where to send people, Jiehong said, "I clearly don't have it on me. I do, however, own an exo-suit. Curtesy of Sunstar Industries."
"A laborious exo-suit?!" the clerk said, surprised.
"Maybe? I am not aware of how many models and makes exist. What I have is a large cage which surrounds me, and which gives me access to two oversized mechanical arms which shoot from my pauldrons like a cannonball. I could still use some training on it..."
"Yes! That is a labor suit. It is a new technology. Praline as an organization has a couple of early models. Limited as these early suits are, they have revolutionized our labors at building a better kingly society. I guarantee if you bring that suit to the jobsite, you will make friends quickly. Listen, we aren't expecting you to donate your suit, but if you choose to do so, you will find yourself not wanting for much. The crown's men remember their friends!"
Jiehong gave a polite laugh. "I am not sure we're there yet, but I will keep such a thing in mind. How about I enlist in wherever, whatever department this suit will be needed most? Now, to be clear. I am not obligated to perform at such a rate. I can sign in on as an 'At Large' member and not be expected to be at certain places at certain times, right? I only ask because my first responsibility is to my Martial Order. This can't be a job-job for me, understand?"
"That is correct, sir. As an At Large member you are not expected to report to job sites at certain times. Correct me if I am wrong. But you will be doing traveling. Is that why you want to join as an At Large, because you don't know where you will be at any given time?" the clerk said.
Jiehong did not expect the young-looking clerk to understand his situation. "That is exactly it, yes." Jiehong replied.
The clerk then shuffled around for a paper somewhere under the back. "Sign here and start your new life of glorious aid to the crown!"