Savage Divinity

Though the rising sun brought with it a steady stream of good tidings, Luo-Luo could not find it in herself to smile and celebrate.

Lord Husband was awake and in good health again, which was encouraging, but Luo-Luo still had plenty of vital work which needed doing. While she toiled away managing Lord Husband’s neglected personal business and official duties, he had no doubt put her entirely out of mind to cuddle with his pets, which was an entirely normal state of affairs, and she was happy to see him conscious and recovering from his ordeal.

No, Luo-Luo had other reasons to fret, and it had to do with the other celebratory event of the day, the Imperial Army’s successful withdrawal from the front lines. Sorya and Anrhi were in and out of the office bringing her all the latest gossip of heroic victories and military successes, and while she was glad to hear things were going well, she was unable to focus on the good news and could only see the downsides wherever she looked. The withdrawal was a success, but this had not come without cost, and now the Defiled were closer than ever. That was the truth of their situation, despite what many others might choose to believe, but even this wasn’t the sole reason for Luo-Luo’s melancholy. In her youth, she found tales, dramas, and operas of Imperial superiority inspiring and uplifting, but having seen the ugly truth of war firsthand, she now saw those stories for the well-meaning lies they were. There was no glory or grandeur in war, no honour or dignity in death, only frightened soldiers struggling to stay alive in the face of an Enemy determined to see them dead.

The greatest reward for a battle well fought was survival itself, and even this might not seem true for many unfortunate soldiers. At least if they died in the line of duty, their families would receive the colloquially termed ‘blood coin’, a substantial one-time payment rendered to fallen soldiers. In contrast, a crippled Martial Warrior became a significant drain on their family finances, and all but impossible to sustain for those of humble origins. While recent trends had seen injured soldiers better cared for by Imperial interests, Lord Husband felt it wasn’t enough and had committed to helping as many crippled Warriors as he could, even if it beggared him in the process. He sought to provide their families with food, clothes, and shelter, while offering gainful employment to the injured while they recovered, often paying ridiculous salaries simply because the worker was still a Martial Warrior. He even worked with his Teacher and Healer Taiyi ZhuShen to ensure the worst off received the best medical care available, which was expensive considering any Healer of note had been drafted into the army. After spending upwards of eighteen hours a day keeping soldiers alive and battle-ready, even the most proficient and magnanimous Healers would have little Chi or goodwill to spare, which left few willing to spend the time and effort to help those who had already been deemed unfit for duty.

Regrowing a single limb was more difficult than Healing a hundred gutted, impaled, or otherwise injured soldiers. Granted, this was because the latter only required the bare minimum of treatment from the Healers, since living Martial Warriors would eventually recover from most injuries with time alone. Lost eyes, severed limbs, pulped organ, and shattered bones however, required exponentially more time and effort from even the most experienced Healers, and it all boiled down to simple numbers. The unfortunate truth was that it wasn’t worth it to Heal one grievously injured soldier back to full health, when that same amount of time, Chi, and focus could be used to patch up twenty moderate injuries or a hundred mildly ones.

Which was what made Lord Husband’s charitable efforts so benevolent and perhaps even necessary, because he was providing hope to the otherwise hopeless. Luo-Luo went to great lengths to ensure every wounded Warrior who needed assistance would receive it, but combined with the ever-increasing exorbitant demands of the Tyrant OuYang Yuhuan, Lord Husband’s refusal to profit from supplying food and building materials to new arrivals, and his ill-advised efforts to train and arm every able-bodied civilian living along the border, Lord Husband’s personal wealth had been in steady decline for some time now, despite his businesses turning profits hand over fist. Now, with a new influx of injured, discharged soldiers soon to arrive, this might finally be enough to burn through his personal reserves and leave him without a coin to his name.

The Minister of Finance, in danger of becoming destitute. Now that was a joke everyone could laugh at, from the lowliest peasant to even the Emperor Himself. Thankfully, Lord Husband had separated his Official duties from his personal finances, because if word got out about his personal finances, it would most certainly raise questions about the validity of his post and the War Bond funds. Luo-Luo could hear it now, people whispering in the streets about how the Minister of Finance couldn’t even manage his own personal affairs, so how could he be trusted to manage Imperial Finances? While most people were still unaware of just how much power and influence Lord Husband’s Office wielded, the prominent nobles of the Empire had most certainly taken note. Even now, at the height of Lord Husband’s success and popularity, his peers and rivals were all plotting to bring him down and seize his power for their own.

Such was the way of life and politics, which meant Luo-Luo had many long days and sleepless nights ahead.

Things were not so bad that Lord Husband would never recover. Most of his debts could be covered by payments owed, so it was only a matter of balancing the two so that she never had to dip into his dwindling stash of cold, hard coin. If her hand was ever forced, Luo-Luo could always swallow her pride and go to her in-laws for a loan, but even the thought of doing so soured her mood for days, if not weeks. Mother-in-Law Sarnai seemed to think Luo-Luo incompetent and unable to properly manage her darling son’s finances, and while she was technically correct, there were few people alive who could do better than Luo-Luo. Unless there was a financial guru somewhere out there who knew how to make coin appear with the snap of his fingers, Lord Husband was fated for financial ruin.

What a frustrating man, one with a remarkable affinity for earning coin, but was seemingly offended by the prospect of keeping it. “Coin is meant to be spent,” he had quipped, when Luo-Luo brought her concerns to him some weeks ago. “What good does it do sitting in a vault somewhere?”

What good indeed, but the coin didn’t even have time to reach Lord Husband’s coffers before being frittered away on some dream or another. He also refused to stop or slow his charitable contributions for even a month, just so Luo-Luo could rebuild his reserves for emergencies, like the one she was experiencing at this very moment. The only readily available currency he had left was his personal supply of War Bonds, which stood to turn a significant profit considering he purchased them in advance at base value, but she was leery of selling them so soon. If the Minister of Finance were to divest himself of the War Bonds he himself introduced, some might see it as his lack of faith in his own endeavours, or an attempt to offload what many still believed were ‘fraudulent’ goods. What’s more, few individuals cared to sell their War Bonds at this time, because having ‘only’ ten was the bare minimum for one to publicly, but indirectly, brag about their investment. To date, only a small number of War Bonds had officially traded hands, most of which went from subordinate to superior, and it would not be fitting for Lord Husband to be among the first to actually sell them for a profit.

However, as the day wore on and noon approached, Luo-Luo checked her numbers again and again only to repeatedly arrive at the same conclusion. Lord Husband did not have enough coin on hand to aid this coming influx of crippled soldiers. There would be no hiding it either, because Lord Husband’s charitable efforts were known to all, and once the first injured soldier voice complaint about being denied assistance, then Lord Husband would be tried and sentenced in the court of public opinion. It was silly, seeing how he’d already done so much at great personal expense, but gratitude was fleeting, especially amongst self-entitled Martial Warriors accustomed to getting their way. As much as she didn’t want to burden Lord Husband with financial issues so soon after waking from his coma, Luo-Luo needed a decision on how to proceed. Aside from taking on loans, their only other options were to either sell off a profitable company to raise funds or make plans to reduce the amount of support provided to the imminent wave of discharged cripples.

Luo-Luo already knew what Lord Husband would choose, but she still needed to confirm with him before selling off part of their holdings. With her papers and sceptre in hand, she bade farewell to Jian Xianhe, who was busy poring over papers in the corner while rubbing his bare feet, and left with Gunan and Kuang Biao in tow. Distasteful as the Imperial Scion’s behaviour might be, he and his companions were vital cogs in the machine that was the Office of Imperial Finance, able clerks and overseers who dealt with the day to day crises which invariably cropped up in such grand undertakings. Though immigration had stopped for the winter, the districts were facing all manner of shortages, whether it be food, materials, or even just plain entertainment to keep bored, stressed commoners from tearing each other apart in anger. Then there was the matter of Lord Husband’s grand avenue which would stretch from one end of the Western Wall to the other. With construction set to begin once the spring thaw was finished, that left precious little time to get everything in place, but Jian Xianhe had everything planned down to the last detail, including rotating work groups and material deliveries to ensure not a single day was wasted, leaving Luo-Luo free to simply oversee things from afar.

So she put up with his horrific personal habits and slovenly appearance, because it was a small price to pay for peace of mind.

Outside the office, a veritable army of Death Corps guards stood at attention with weapons at the ready, while still more patrolled the roads and rooftops surrounding Lord Husband’s manor. The ever-vigilant guards were even more uptight than usual these days, having been banished from the manor ever since the venerable Guan Suo passed away, and it did not sit well with them leaving their ward’s protection in the hands of others. This was done on Mother-in-Law Sarnai’s orders, though Luo-Luo had been the one to deliver it since Lord Husband was unable to, and the Death Corps were growing restless without Lord Husband around to calm them. It couldn't be helped, as Mother-in-Law wanted the Death Corps kept in the dark about everything including Lord Husband’s ailment, because there were too many secrets surrounding that fateful night, secrets which could land Lord Husband in grave peril should they ever see the light of day.

The emergence of a true Divine Turtle and the reincarnation of an Ancestral Beast, two miracles which even the Emperor Himself would take note of, and Lord Husband lay at the crux of them both. If word were to spread, he and sweet Ping Ping might be taken away for study, or possibly even killed outright for fear of their strength, and Lord Husband’s people would rebel before letting either happen, so it was best for everyone’s sake to not let matters get out of hand. When she arrived within a hundred paces of the manor, Luo-Luo dismissed Kuang Biao alongside the rest of her Death Corps escorts, and once again, Kuang Biao protested his dismissal. “Lady Zheng,” he began, always in that same servile, yet almost challenging tone. “This one begs permission to speak.”

“If you mean to repeat the same request as you have these last twenty days, then you do not have it.” It was bad form to be snippy with the Death Corps, for they were Warriors deserving of respect, but Luo-Luo had had it with the former Royal Guardian’s peevish probing. “If Lord Husband has orders for you, he will pass them along. Until such a time, you will return to your duties and refrain from troubling him with missives or Sendings unless it is of dire importance.”

“By your will, Lady Zheng,” Kuang Biao replied, his measured expression unable to hide his irritation from her practised eyes. “This one’s purpose is to defend Imperial Minister from harm, but there was another Wraith attack on the manor last night, and we Death Corps could do nothing to help as we were stationed too far away. What’s more, we Death Corps do talk amongst ourselves, and we cannot help but notice Imperial Minister has not emerged from the manor for more than two weeks. Given how none of us are able to confirm he is in good health, there is a growing concern regarding Imperial Minister’s situation. Thus far, we have kept our concerns to ourselves, but should an outsider hear of them and put it together with Lady Zheng’s commands keeping the Death Corps away, they might misconstrue the situation and think you unconcerned with Imperial Minister’s... well-being.”

A threat to make the situation public? Or was this merely another attempt to elicit information? Seeing no harm in it, Luo-Luo sighed and said, “Fine, if you wish to confirm Lord Husband’s good health, I’ll speak with him about coming out to say a few words, but the perimeter still needs guarding. Lord Husband’s people have strict measures in place to keep him safe, and unrelated guards would dampen their effectiveness.” Kuang Biao remained unconvinced of course, considering Gunan, a former Aspirant of the Confessor and an Expert Martial Warrior in his own right, would escort Luo-Luo right up to the manor doors, but it was the best she could come up with, given the circumstances. She simply couldn’t afford to let the Death Corps see the diminutive Ping Ping and the mischievous red panda, as the former greeted her with happy squeaks and affectionate Aura at the manor door while the latter glowered at her from his ‘hidden’ perch in the tree.

The red panda was much smaller and rounder than the cat-bear monstrosity Luo-Luo had envisioned, and she thanked the Heavens she had the forethought to burn her singular attempt to paint one sight-unseen. Still, it was a darling sight to see Ping Ping and the red panda together, but how the Bekhai managed to hide the two animals from Shen ZhenWu, Luo-Luo could not say, especially considering the prevalence of Scrying. At least Ping Ping’s ‘absence’ was easy enough to explain. Mother-in-Law claimed Ping Ping absconded with Guan Suo’s corpse and retreated to her home in the north, travelling through the skies with the ease of a Peak Expert. Again, hardly the most convincing argument, but Shen ZhenWu and the Imperial Clan were not concerned with the whereabouts of a Spiritual Beast, which is technically what Ping Ping was until two weeks ago.

But now, she was a Divine Turtle in truth, and Lord Husband had somehow helped with her Ascension, which was just... miraculous.

As for the red panda... it wasn’t venerable Guan Suo trapped in a beast’s body, that much was sure. On Mother-in-Law Sarnai’s request, Luo-Luo tested the theory thoroughly and found that the red panda was just a red panda. He wasn’t a Spiritual Beast, with no signs of any control over the Blessing of Smoke like the powerful Guan Suo demonstrated on the fields of Sinuji, and he didn’t recognize a pipe for what it was and batted it away when he sniffed its contents. He couldn’t even open a simple latch and lift the lid of a chest to get at the fruit inside, despite Luo-Luo showing him the process several times, and then letting Roc and Kipi do the same. Every time she let the grumpy red panda try, he ignored the box until he grew hungry and threw a tantrum whilst failing to bash the box open.

It was just... too adorable...

That said, there were hints of the grouchy Divinity hidden within the red panda’s behaviour, like his surly demeanour, fondness for the Divine Turtle, and unwillingness to take food which was given freely. Everything the red panda ate had to be found or scavenged, even if it was simply a plate of fruit left unattended or eggs placed in a nook of the tree, reminiscent of how the venerable Guan Suo used to steal food from Lord Husband’s plate. In the end, Luo-Luo didn’t know what to think about the little beast, so she simply ignored him whenever possible, since that seemed to set him at ease. Ping Ping however got much of her attention, as Luo-Luo had been one of the few people allowed to tend to Lord Husband whilst he was unconscious. Perhaps saying few was being a mite ungenerous, since the list included all of Lord Husband’s family, both his wives, his wives’ families, the Medical Saint, Lin-Lin, a number of Bekhai guards, and perhaps a few more she was forgetting, but still, it meant the sweet girl recognized Luo-Luo’s relationship with Lord Husband and treated her like family.

Tickling the underside of Ping Ping’s chin, Luo-Luo smiled at the Guardian Turtle’s warm and noisy greeting, which in turn woke the other animals up and brought them over to investigate. As much as she loved the bears, birds, rabbits, and wildcats, Luo-Luo heart ached for the poor cattle serving with Lord Husband’s retinue and prayed they all would make it back in good health. It wasn’t right sending those sweet animals out into war, for some of the kindest, gentlest members of the herd were also supposedly the fiercest, like jubilant Moomie who would dance a little jig whenever he saw her approach with zither or pipa in hand, or beautiful Wendy who sweetly encouraged passerby’s to stroke her braided locks by bobbing her head from side to side. Then there was Big Mac, who would ever so gently nuzzle into her lap, always mindful of his prodigious weight and pointed horns, and silly Arby who loved to roll in dirt and present his belly for rubs. They were all out there right now, alongside many of their friends, and while not all of them would be ridden into battle, Luo-Luo still feared for their lives.

It wasn’t right, sending the poor, sweet cattle out to fight. They were such gentle creatures, they deserved to live their lives safe from predators and free from the conflicts of man, with endless plains of grass to graze on and low-hanging fruits aplenty to relish and enjoy.

The animals were the only ones to greet Luo-Luo at the door, though Li-Li offered her a polite nod while swinging back and forth on the tire swing with her customary stony expression. Incidentally, the red panda’s hiding spot was closer to Song than usual, no doubt drawn there by the tire swing which it so loved to sit in once night fell and the courtyard sat empty. Every night, the red panda would climb down from the tree and set the chains to creaking, and it was an adorable sight to behold. For now though, all it did was bare its fangs and glower from afar as Luo-Luo played with Ping Ping a bit, tugging at a thick braid of hardy rope while the sweet turtle gamely hung on. Though supposedly a Divinity, Ping Ping wasn’t very strong and in fact, rather weak, but this didn’t keep her from wrestling and roughhousing with the best of them, and she had a grand old time doing so. Likely because she’d been constrained by her size for so many years and could finally cut loose, but Luo-Luo worried sweet Ping Ping might soon become starved for stimulation. Being cooped up in the manor all day was no doubt boring her to tears, but Lord Husband’s situation had kept her from leaving of her own volition these past twenty days. Now that Lord Husband was awake, Luo-Luo wasn’t sure how much longer this would last, and while Ping Ping seemed content to wander the manor on her own instead of sticking close to his side, it would be disastrous if the bored, naive Divine Beast took to traipsing about the Citadel without supervision.

Lifting Ping Ping into her arms, Luo-Luo cuddled the sweet girl and brought her up to Lord Husband’s room. Inside, she found him hunched over his desk with parchment aplenty and writing furiously as if trying to dull the point of his steel pen. “Hi there,” he cooed, in such a warm tone it set Luo-Luo’s cheeks to blushing, which cooled rapidly when she realized his greeting was directed at Ping Ping. “Hi Luo-Luo. What can I do for you?”

No small talk or smile, just straight to business, but Luo-Luo took it all in stride. “I’m here regarding the state of your personal finances.”

Placing her prepared documents on the sole empty corner of his desk, she prepared to explain in great detail where all his coin went and why they needed an influx of gold, but Lord Husband cut her off after only a few sentences. “Yea I figured we’d run out of available coin soon. We should sell the cast iron enterprise.”

“...Which one?” Cast iron was one of Lord Husband’s largest and most profitable ventures, as he had single-handedly supplied almost half the cast iron used in the construction of the Western Wall. He also had many manufacturing ventures related to cast iron, including factories producing all manner of cast iron goods, such as chariots, wagon frames, springs, farming tools, and even decorations, though the last one had yet to turn a profit.

“All of them, except the ones we need to make wagons, chariots, and catapults.” Seeing Luo-Luo’s surprise, Lord Husband offered her a seat and explained, “The terms of our futures contracts with the mining companies are almost up, and the price of iron ore has risen significantly in the time since. This means our soaring profits will soon dip as mine owners try to gouge us with ore prices, which are already artificially high. What’s more, much of our profits came from military contracts, which have pretty much dried up ever since we finished building the Western Wall. This being the case, we might as well get out of the game and sell the businesses before their value drops in half-a-year’s time.”

The expiration of their contracts ensuring their ability to purchase cheap iron ore had not gone unnoticed, but Luo-Luo had come up with multiple contingencies to continue profiting from cast iron. “Lord Husband,” she began, unsure how to best share her thoughts, but in the end, she went with her open, honest feelings. “This is madness. Cast iron can still be profitable, we only need to make a few minor changes, like focusing on commercial construction contracts or marketing cast iron tools to the Empire at large.”

“Madness?” Flashing a maniacal grin, Lord Husband looked up from petting Ping Ping and said, “No. This. Is. Business!” Seeing his supposed joke fall flat, his grin faltered a little before returning in full force, this time infused with sheepish embarrassment. “You’re not wrong. It wouldn’t be difficult to ensure our cast iron businesses continue to make a profit, but it’d be a lot of work for minimal gain. The only reason to keep it would be for sentimental reasons, because we’d make more coin selling the business and investing the proceeds elsewhere. Well, a portion of it, at least, since you say we need the coin infusion to keep things afloat, which is the whole reason we’re having this discussion, right?”

For long seconds, Luo-Luo struggled to present a coherent argument, but then she stopped to think and realized Lord Husband was right. With the cast iron businesses showing record profits, they would be massively over-valued by prospective buyers, many of whom were Lord Husband’s competitors and the reason the price of iron ore was so artificially high. Luo-Luo had even noticed that forged iron was only marginally more expensive than raw ore, as opposed to seven to ten times the price of the raw materials due to extensive labour costs. Knowing this, she re-evaluated her plans and calculated that it would take close to a decade for the various cast iron businesses to match the profits of what they stood to gain from selling them. Now, not only would this take care of all their impending financial woes, it also saved Luo-Luo from having to bend over backwards to ensure the businesses would continue to profit. It seemed so simple once Lord Husband pointed it out, but she never even considered this route in all her time spent agonizing over the issue, and it made her feel... inadequate.

Managing Lord Husband’s finances was the only thing she could do, but what use did she have if he was so much better at it?

“Don’t look so sad,” Lord Husband said, reaching over to clasp Luo-Luo’s hand. “I know it’s hard to sell a business you built from the ground up, but this is the best course of action. Just know that I appreciate all the hard work you’ve put into this, and I would never have gotten this far without your help. If you have any interest in starting up a personal venture, know you have my full support, financial or otherwise.” His concern and generosity brought a smile to her face as she remembered where they last left off, but it seemed Lord Husband was not in an amorous mood as he promptly turned back to stare at his notes. “Is there anything else?”

“No, Lord Husband.” Taking a moment to scan his scribbled characters, Luo-Luo could not make hide nor hair of what he was trying to say, for the pages read like the ramblings of a mad man. ‘Big Core, Big Natal Palace?’, ‘Chi: How Does it Work?’ ‘What is Aura and why is it weird?’, ‘Link between Aura and Emotion?’, ‘Domain???’, and more nonsensical questions were jotted across the pages, with his aborted attempts to answer each question all crossed out and unreadable. “If I may ask, Lord Husband, what are you trying to accomplish?”

“Well...” Slumping in his seat like a defeated dog, Lord Husband sighed and pushed the papers aside. “I had this crazy idea to try and... demystify the Martial Path and maybe make it easier for commoners to maybe Create a Core, but I’ve been at this for an hour and I don’t know where to start. I don’t even have enough to bring to Grandpa Du or Grand Mentor, whenever they get back from celebrating Yan and Mila’s recent successes. All I have is, ‘The Core is the powerhouse of the Martial Warrior’, and the rest is just... questions without answers. Plenty of those going around lately...” After falling silent for several seconds, Lord Husband sat back up with a wry smile and asked, “If you don’t mind me asking, what was Core Creation like for you. Do you remember it? Are you even allowed to speak of it?”

Lord Husband was not one to dream small, but even this seemed too far out of his reach. Still, there was no harm in humouring him, especially if it might help with repairing his Core, even if she didn’t know how that was possible. “It sounds trite when I say it, but like a warm embrace.” Basking in the fond memory of her first success, she brought the experience to mind once again. “Though I am forbidden from speaking of the specifics, I can say I was seven when it happened. Most of my peers had already Created their Cores and moved on to other lessons, and I remember crying myself to sleep for weeks because I thought myself a failure who would never succeed, and in doing so I would bring shame to my parents who’d given me away. Back then, I dreamed of excelling so much, they’d feel compelled to acknowledge me as their daughter again, if only to take pride in my accomplishments.” A foolish dream for a foolish girl, but it was not her first, and would most certainly not be her last. “The day it happened is still fresh in my memory, and I will hold fast to it until the day I die. Lessons were over, and I was sitting in the grass outside, not purposefully meditating but just... wasting time. Plucking grass and braiding flowers, that sort of thing, and thinking unkind thoughts about my arithmetic teacher. It was a temperate spring day, with not a cloud to be seen, and the air just warm enough to be comfortable without a breeze, but not so cold as to raise a chill when one blew by. There I sat, looking over the verdant green fields basking beneath the warm, soft sun, and I thought, ‘I wish every day were this perfect’.” Her cheeks aching from the strain of smiling, she shrugged and continued on. “And then I found Balance. The Energy of the Heavens surged into my Core and swept me away on a current of love and affection, as if the Mother Herself had come down to take me into her arms and tell me She wished it were so too.”

What she didn’t share with Lord Husband was the faint tinge of melancholy and regret suffused within that warm embrace. This was one of her fondest memories, something which kept her going through all the trials and tribulations of Luo-Luo’s life. The Mother also wished every day could be beautiful and perfect, but alas, it could not be so. Crops needed rain and birds needed wind, and the seasons needed change else the world would fall apart. Without the darkness, one could not appreciate the light, just like hardships made an accomplishment that much more meaningful. Luo-Luo could never have composed or completed ‘Rise to Glory’ if she had not overcome the hurdles within her path, for it was the low, ominous tones which made the joyous, upbeat sections of the song that much more enjoyable.

In a word, it was Balance, and Luo-Luo could think of no better word to describe it.

The warm, fluttering affection of Ping Ping’s Aura caught Luo-Luo by surprise, but she smiled at the sweet Guardian Turtle. “Thank you,” she crooned, rubbing the ridges above Ping Ping’s eyes. “I love you too, sweet girl.”

“She does enjoy throwing her Aura around willy nilly,” Lord Husband muttered, jokingly feigning jealousy as he shook his head. “It’s sweet and all, but I’m worried it’ll get her in trouble if she uses it on the wrong person. Most people don’t know about Emotional Aura, and I’m not sure how the world at large will react to it. Pong Pong can do the same, but at least he knows enough to keep a low profile. Ping Ping has been in the public eye for so long, she’s completely forgotten how dangerous humans can really be.”

Nodding in agreement, Luo-Luo’s words froze in her throat as she was struck by a thought. “Lord Husband,” she began, quietly appraising his reaction. “You felt her Aura?"

“Yep. Far as I can tell, she doesn’t have much fine control yet and blasts it at everyone in range. Made a couple bunbuns real confused earlier today, and I hear you all had a terrible time trying to explain it to Grandpa Du, but it all worked out. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem like her range extends very far, and definitely not past the manor walls, else we’d have a lot of confused guards wondering why they feel loved all of a sudden.”

“Lord Husband.” Something in her tone made him look directly at her, and she was unable to contain her excitement. “You felt. Her Aura. Can you feel anyone else’s?”

“...Oh shit!” Eyes widening in understanding, Lord Husband looked at Luo-Luo, then Ping Ping, then Luo-Luo once more. “I forgot I can’t feel Aura in the real world. It’s hard keeping everything straight when things keep changing.” Leaping to his feet, Lord Husband ran to the window, stuck his head out, and shouted, “Song! Could you hit me with your Aura please?” A pause, followed by a cackle of delight. “I felt that! I felt it! I felt your Aura!” Turning away from the window, he circled back to it and stuck his head out once more. “Try using Aura offensively against me now.” Lord Husband paused again, but it was easy to see from his stiff posture that it’d worked once again. “Also forgot how terrifying Aura is,” he mumbled, before shouting, “Thanks for the help!” Spinning about to face Luo-Luo, Lord Husband grinned and said, “I can feel Aura again!”

“Indeed you can.” With a smile which matched his own, Luo-Luo’s heart soared in joy. Lord Husband could feel Aura again, and while she couldn’t say for certain, a return to normalcy seemed like good news rather than bad. No one knew why Aura no longer affected him after he shattered his Core, but then again, no one knew why his skin was less durable than parchment for months without end, or why he was barely able to stand upright and now was easily more fit than most mortals, though still unable to match even the weakest Martial Warrior. Also, what did he mean when he said he couldn’t feel Aura in the ‘real world’? Like Lord Husband said, there were many unanswered questions about him, but for the first time since Sinuji, his recovery was making obvious headway once more, and while he was still unable to use Chi at will, his return to strength seemed all but inevitable.

And this, was news worthy of celebration.

Chapter Meme