Savage Divinity

I don’t remember much from my previous life, but somehow, I don’t think I’ve changed much.

Granted, I probably never killed anyone before my transmigration, or even killed an animal judging by how much I cried the first time Alsantset brought me hunting. Considering the sheer amount of paranoia and anxiety it takes to get my ass out of bed every morning, I was probably a lot lazier too, but otherwise, I’m probably a carbon copy of my past self. I love animals, make stupid jokes, have a short attention span, a penchant for monologues, and a healthy streak of perversion that is in no way abnormal.

What I lack however, in this life and I assume the last, is an appreciation for the arts, meaning Luo-Luo’s musical talents are completely wasted on me.

A pleasant tune filters in from the bathroom windows as she strums on her zither in the courtyard, but while my coma rebooted my receptors and let me feel Aura and Aura-related skills again, I still feel nothing when listening to her music. Don’t get me wrong, it sounds pretty and pleasant, but there’s no surge of emotions or swell of sensations to accompany it. By now, I’ve heard Luo-Luo’s ‘Rise to Glory’ at least a hundred times, and I still feel the same as I always have, that it’s a cool song that sounds technically demanding to play, but is just too boring with only one instrument. To my admittedly musically-ignorant self, the zither is just a horizontal guitar that is capable of carrying a song on it’s own, but I was never a huge fan of acoustical covers. Then again, I was probably never a huge fan of music to begin with, seeing as I never felt its absence in the eight years I spent on this world before Luo-Luo came into my life. It sounds mean to say this, but Luo-Luo’s music might as well be background noise to fill the silence, and while I appreciate the hard work and effort that goes into her playing, I don’t know enough about music to understand why everyone calls her an amazing musical talent.

It’s like going into a lecture on advanced quantum physics with nothing more than an elementary school education. You recognize the words and understand that the lecturer is speaking a language you understand, but you don’t know enough about the subject matter to judge if the speaker is brilliant, mediocre, or spewing gibberish. Maybe that’s why Luo-Luo’s music doesn’t work on everyone, because music is a very personal experience, and for me, music is simply something to listen to without caring too much about the content.

Seriously though... if music was all Jixing wanted Luo-Luo for, he could’ve just said so. I’m sure she would’ve been happy to play for him whenever her services were needed. Who knows, maybe the two of them would’ve hit it off after a few weeks of private performances and she would’ve realized she wanted a life with a real Imperial who treated her like the amazing woman she is, rather than stick with a short cripple who drowns her in paperwork and doesn’t appreciate her artistic talents.

...

The fact that this imagined scenario makes me irrationally jealous speaks to my character, and not in a favourable light. It’s not like I have any real claim to Luo-Luo, and I’m still not sure how I feel about marrying her. For the most part, she’s just there, a business partner and fixture in my life that I could not function without. Professionally, that is, though I will admit I don’t hate having a beautiful woman to admire while my wives are away at war. Luo-Luo’s not just a pretty face though, as her hard work and brilliant moves have single-handedly kept our business ventures afloat, and she also played a pivotal role in the creation and successful introduction of War Bonds. Without her, I would’ve never thought to dress up the War Bonds to look fancy and important, or gone to personally visit influential merchants, nobles, and officials to personally explain the concept beforehand. The War Bonds would’ve rolled out as single-page contracts and no one would’ve bought them besides my family, who to this day still don’t entirely understand what they represent even though I’ve explained it a thousand times. Granted, I originally envisioned them as a proper investment tool and it’s now become something entirely different, but Luo-Luo was the one who saw the potential of the idea and explained why everyone would be fighting to purchase them for face. The wealthiest nobles in the Empire all have their collections of War Bonds framed in glass and ‘modestly’ displayed, taking after Yuzhen who has her massive collection cluttering the walls of her office and meeting rooms.

In contrast, Akanai and Dad gave their War Bonds to me for ‘safekeeping’, but mostly because they didn’t really know what else to do with them.

Long story short, I owe Luo-Luo so very much, and while it sometimes feels like we don’t have a lot in common, I suspect she actually understands the ‘modern’ part of me better than anyone else. To most, my ideas are just odd little notions which make no sense whatsoever and are quickly forgotten, but Luo-Luo is the only one who bothers to ask questions and try to understand what I’m talking about. It’s nice to be taken seriously by someone, whereas Mila would just roll her eyes while Yan and Lin-Lin tend to humour me until the conversation grows boring. Not to throw shade at them or anything, because they all put up with more than any person should have to, but sometimes, I have trouble accepting this world as it is and I like having someone I can talk to about possibly turning my ‘strange’ notions into a reality.

A shame she instantly shut down my proposal to outlaw slavery. Not on moral grounds, but pragmatic ones, stating that slavery is so ingrained into the everyday workings of the Empire that everything would fall to pieces if I ever tried to force the issue. Apparently, almost everything everywhere is largely produced by slaves or includes the efforts of slaves in some vital way, whether it be renting slaves to help out on seasonal duties or making up a large percentage of the workforce in unskilled labour, the Empire would never financially recover from outlawing slavery without years, if not decades of preparations leading up to it.

Which again, makes me want to flip the board and leave Zhen Shi and the Emperor to duke it out so I can rebuild everything from the ground up, but keeping the status quo is indisputably the lesser of two evils. There’s no supporting a crazed massed murderer whose life’s ambition is to cause endless bloodshed and conflict to raise humanity’s strength as a whole, and the threat of civilians turning Defiled during periods of upheaval is still a very real concern. One could argue that the Empire contributes to all the pain and suffering experienced by millions of unfortunates in this world, but they’re the lesser of two evils. Even ignoring all their efforts to keep morale high and eliminate Defiled wherever they might be, they’re also not actively supporting an army of psychopathic cannibals urged on towards violence by weird ghostly beings created from the dark emotions of Martial Warriors.

Unless they are, and I just don’t know it, in which case we’re all royally screwed.

Taking a deep breath to calm my spiking nerves, I settle down in my bath chair and do as Xing Yong Wei suggested, seek solace and ease my troubled conscience. I find this not in the music of my devoted concubine or in the arms of my absent wives, but rather from a different feminine presence in my life, one who followed me into the baths for a bit of fun and games. Smiling from ear to ear, I giggle quietly as Ping Ping shakes her butt in sheer delight while I run a hard-bristled brush across her shell, thoroughly enjoying the tender care and none too shy to show it by radiating a warm and happy Aura. Like me, Ping Ping doesn’t seem too enthused by Luo-Luo’s music, and while this isn’t the usual sort of fun I have in the baths with Yan and Mila, this is soothing in a different sense. There’s something wildly fulfilling about bringing joy and happiness into someone else’s life, even if that someone else is an animal. Having pets is hard work, and even harder without a team of servants scrambling around to make sure all the floofs are properly tended to, but I can honestly say I have never experienced anything that is more rewarding. The simple act of brushing a pet brings me so much joy, I cannot for the life of me understand why other people don’t love animals as much as I do. Maybe things will change when I raise children of my own, but I doubt it. I spent a fair amount of time raising the twins, and as much as I love them, I still love floofs more, and I’m not only saying that because the twins are older now and no longer as adorable.

Okay, that has a lot to do with it, but whatever. I still love Tali and Tate to bits, but cute is justice!

After a thorough scrub and rinse, me and Ping Ping head into the bath for a nice soak and swim with a modicum of splashing. One caveat about the joys of pet companionship is that not all pets are equally rewarding. Ping Ping is a wonderful sweetheart who is almost overly attached, whereas Pong Pong is too cool to hang out now that he knows he can pop over to Taduk’s garden for three servings of shrimp every day while living in the quiet river by the farm. I get it, he’s a strong, independent turtle who don’t need no man, but I kinda wish he’d show more concern after seeing me fall into a coma, and maybe come visit every now and then. Then again, maybe he was spooked off by Ping Ping’s ascension and didn’t understand what happened to me, but I bet he’d have a grand old time splashing around the tub with Ping Ping. Still, I can’t really blame him if he enjoys living out in the wilds over cuddling up with Mama Bun every night, so I’ll have to find some time to visit the bamboo grove one of these days and check in on the little guy.

Not anytime soon though. There’s too much heat on me right now, with nobles, Imperials, and Defiled alike watching my every move, so even if I didn’t have the fate of the Empire resting on my shoulders, it’d be silly to take a few days off for a pleasure trip.

Sensing my melancholy, Ping Ping paddles over to gently headbutt me in the face, and it never fails to make me smile. Not because I particularly enjoy the act itself, but because of how she draws back to see the effects of her work. Though smarter than most animals and many people I’ve met, Ping Ping is still very much a turtle who operates on turtle logic, so it’s funny to try and figure out how she sees the world. I realized early on that she headbutts me because she’s seen me headbutt the bears, bunnies, and wildcats, so she thinks I enjoy the headbutts which is why she’s playing along. Simply said, she’s here to cheer me up, and it is sorely needed because I’m worried I’m losing my way.

Keeping my voice to barely above a whisper, I lean in close and stroke her cheeks while confiding in this sweet, amiable turtle. “I sentenced a lot of people to death today, and I’m not sure if they all deserved it. I should feel horrible, feel it gnawing away at my conscience and expect not to sleep well for days to come, but I know as soon as I get back to my room and finish work for the night, I’ll lay my head down, close my eyes, and be asleep in seconds. It’ll be this way because I’ll never have to see those villagers, those preachers, those possible innocents and consider the effect of my actions. I won’t have to hear them plead for mercy or watch them draw their last breath, because all I did was sign some papers and hand them off to someone else.” Blowing out sigh, I sink into the water and say, “It shouldn’t be this easy, but it is, and I’m afraid of what it’ll do to me in the long run. Will I one day just stop caring? Or worse, see my work as a bothersome distraction and pay less attention to it than I should? I won’t even know if I made the right decisions, and even though it bothers me now, I’ll probably forget about it in a few days and never think about them again. That’s not right. Things shouldn’t be this way, but I don’t see any alternative.”

In response, Ping Ping offers me another headbutt, but this time, I stroke her cheeks and keep my head pressed against hers, because I don’t want her to see me crying and think it’s all her fault.

A short cry later, I put aside my melancholic musings and go back to seeking solace. Though it is as elusive as ever, the warm water does wonders for the tension in my neck and shoulders and Ping Ping’s happy splashing and carefree squeaks are a balm for the soul. Staying in there until my fingers are all pruny, I eventually find it in me to get out and dry off before joining the rest of the household in the courtyard for more solace seeking. This is my favourite thing about courtyard manors, how the central, outdoor area becomes the communal living space. Mom and Akanai are relaxing with some tea on the veranda, while Grandpa Du and Song play with Kishi and Princess in the garden. Ever the sweetheart, Lin-Lin keeps Luo-Luo company while she plays, snuggling Aurie, Mama Bun, and Blackjack next to Sorya and Anrhi while the rest of the animals enjoy the music in captive silence. Still full of playful energy, Ping Ping zooms off to join Kishi in her game of fetch, utterly enamoured by the young quin who is more or less her size. As for me, I settle in next to my sweet wifey, who visibly brightens in my presence as she slips my arm around her shoulder and snuggles into my embrace. The only thing that could make this better is if the rest of my loved ones were here with us too, because as much as I enjoy my solitude, I’ve come to love these peaceful nights together even more.

Maybe it’s because I already have both, but I feel like it’s such a shame that so many people value wealth and fame so highly. You don’t need coin or recognition to be happy, just loving family and adorable floofs.

As the music plays, I consider the implications of Aura and my ability to Orate in times of passion and stress, which leads me on a long, circuitous mental journey exploring the Martial Path. I’ve been through it so many times, have pieced together so many clues, and I feel like I’ve been on the cusp of a pivotal realization for so long, but I just can’t figure out how all the pieces fit together so I can fix my shattered Core. A while back, I sat down with Dad and hammered out the details of a Core which I later added to my notes, but I’m still as lost as ever. Dad said, “The Core sits in the Void, but the Void is not the Core. The Void exists outside your Core, and your Core is what separates you from the Heavens beyond. Your Core is a barrier yes, but it does not only hold Chi, it also keeps your being, your mortality, and quite possibly your eternal soul, within.”

Which I took to mean my Core is formed from my soul, or perhaps even my soul in its entirety, which makes about as much sense as anything else to do with souls. Who knows what comprises a soul? My take is that a soul is the sum total of all our experiences, not just our memories, but everything else we’ve forgotten along the way, every smile, tear, grimace, and groan. All those experiences make up who we are and shape the person we become. I don’t remember most of my past life, but I still know who I am, deep down inside, and I believe it is the same for everyone else, even if they aren’t consciously aware of it. It’s a slippery slope to try and define a soul, since it’s mostly just a word we made up to explain the ineffable concept of life after death, so this is about as much thought as I’ve given it, and it seems right. The soul is who you are, simple as that, the very core of your being, and I don’t really need to know more.

This isn’t to say we as humans can never really change, but when we do change, our soul changes alongside us. This, more than anything, is what it means to be human, to have the ability to reflect upon our nature and improve or discard it. Unlike the wolf who only knows he must hunt the deer or the tiger who defends her mountain, we humans can reflect upon our actions and choose to be different. We can choose to become vegetarians like the Brotherhood, choose to indulge in bloodshed and violence like the Defiled, choose to play games in a time of crisis like the Legate, or choose to hold ourselves to a higher standard, like so many heroes of the Empire. That’s what it means to be human, to have the freedom and ability to choose, and while we might not always make the best choices, the very act of choosing to behave differently from what our instincts demand is what elevates us above most other animals out there.

How does this help me restore my Core? I don’t know, but it all fits in with what I realized while debating with Zhu Chanzui. Human concepts like justice, honour, and integrity are important because we humans hold ourselves to them, aspire to be better than the animals we were born as, and I think that’s why some animals turn into Ancestral Beasts, because they too aspire to something higher than being a slave to instinct and ingrained behaviour. That’s how I see it, and maybe it’s a little romanticized, but I think if Zhu Chanzui had been found and raised by the People, or at least better people than he was raised by, he would be a much different person today.

I’m still going to kill him, or at the very least, spit on his cold, dead corpse. To err is human; to forgive is divine, and I’m as human as can be.

Another point of interest in my notes is how everything revolves around Emotion. Grandpa Du and everyone else sort of glossed over that, but I keep coming back to it because it feels pivotal to my understanding. The prevailing theory is that Heavenly Energy is drawn to emotion, which is how both Defiled and Imperials can wield it through seemingly contrary means. The Defiled embrace emotion and lose themselves in its expression, while Imperials suppress and discard emotions to achieve Balance. Either way, I suspect this expression of emotion which draws Heavenly Energy into our Cores and binds it for our use. Inside our Cores, our souls, the Heavenly Energy has all the emotion it desires, because again, our souls are made up of the very fabric of our metaphysical being, which includes Emotion. Outside the Core, that emotion is consumed, thereby ‘freeing’ our Chi to become unbound Heavenly Energy once more, until it is once again drawn in by emotion.

Which explains why I could use Oration in Sinuji and again when Zhu Chanzui showed up at the Citadel, because in both cases, I was literally bursting with emotion. I’ve yet to succeed at Oration when actively trying it, but it comes out when I’m least expecting it which means there is still hope yet. Again, how does this help me fix my Core? No idea. Broken Blade Pichai said his Core fixed itself on its own, but his experience was incredibly different from mine. He was weakened, but never to the same extent that I was, where cotton clothes could turn my skin to road rash after a day of walking and petting floofs the wrong way would leave me with a bloody, pin-cushioned hand. It also took him the better part of a decade to get any usable function out of his Core and still ‘leaks’ Chi to this very day, whereas it’s been little over a year since I was crippled and I’m already using Chi without too much trouble, albeit in an incredibly limited function.

I’m doing something to help it along faster than Pichai did, but I have no idea what. Spiritual Tofu maybe? Or maybe it’s how we’re going about it. Believing himself a lost cause, he spent decades as a recluse away from the public eye, living off the land amongst commoners while searching for a new Path to follow, but in the end, it eventually led him back to the Martial Dao. Me? I’m here scrambling to not only stay alive, but also help the Empire survive this coming calamity, which is completely different from what Pichai was up to. To me, the Martial Path has never been a passion, but a means to an end, so perhaps I’m doing better than he did because I’m still treading the same Path as before, one I’ve no name for or really any words to describe. I’m just... trying to keep my head above water in a death world I don’t belong in, so I can only conclude that the Southern Living Legend was of no help whatsoever.

Which shouldn’t be surprising. When has anything ever been easy?

A plaintive ‘mwar’ snaps me out of my thoughts and I come back to reality to find Aurie resting his head in my lap, lying on his back in the grass while I stroke his chest. Now his sorrow-filled eyes stare at me in mournful question to ask why the scritches have stopped, all while holding his meaty paws up in the air where they were previously kneading at nothing. Only now do I notice the music has stopped and everyone is looking at me in worry, though Luo-Luo’s gaze is tinged with a hint of pique over having her performance all but ignored.

Pinching my cheek with two dainty fingers, Lin-Lin furrows her brow and says, “Bad Rainy. This is relaxation time. You’re not supposed to fret about work and stuff.”

“Sorry wifey.” Flashing a smile, I kiss her forehead and say, “A lot on the mind lately, and not much time left to ponder my personal health.”

“Ah!” Lighting up in delight, my wifey roughly drops Mama Bun into my lap and bolts off to her room, shouting, “Wait there!” Shrugging at no one in particular, I cuddle Mama Bun and quiet her stream of disgruntled grumbles, which are just too adorable not to love. Saddened by the lack of attention, Aurie seeks comfort from Luo-Luo, who welcomes him with open arms and a beautiful smile. By the time Lin-Lin returns, not even a minute later, my sweet, golden wildcat is purring up a storm as Luo-Luo’s fingers run through his long, shaggy fur. Carrying a lidded wooden lunch-box high above her head, Lin-Lin lightly plunks back down beside me with a cheery smile and says, “Here you go, Hubby. Spiritual Tofu Pudding version eighteen.”

I really wish she’d be more careful about what she says, since a careless word could spell disaster, but there’s no point warning her yet again. Giggling as she cracks the lunch-box open, she immediately snaps it shut again as Mama Bun goes from zero to a hundred in the blink of an eye and launches herself out of my embrace to beg Lin-Lin for a treat. A swarm of rabbits soon join her, all standing on their hind legs and emphatically shaking their front paws as if praying at high speeds, a gesture that was supposed to emulate a clasped salute in greeting, but is more akin to what beggars do when asking for alms.

Handing me the box, Lin-Lin distracts the begging bunnies with a bag of Spiritual Plant cuttings she takes out from her sleeve, handing a single generous piece to each rabbit. No doubt delivered to the Central Citadel by Cloud-Stepping Experts alongside the tofu pudding, I find it funny at how Taduk is so much more generous with them now that he has the ability to grow Spiritual Plants at will, but it’s not as easy as one might think. Taduk’s garden requires repeated infusions of Pong Pong’s poop for a Spiritual Plant to grow to maturity, or else the seeds will just sprout and remain like that until they die a little later due to lacking Heavenly Energy. Once the plant matures, it won’t die without further infusions of poop, but it also won’t continue to grow, which makes sense if you consider that the plants didn’t become Spiritual Plants by taking in Heavenly Energy naturally, but were instead nourished by Heavenly Energy in the form of poop.

Which is hilarious on so many levels. The power of creation, manifest in the form of poop. God, this world sometimes...

Banjo, Baloo, and Kishi also come over to investigate, and Ping Ping ambles along beside her, but while the bears and quin go crazy over their treats, the Divine Turtle takes her treat in her mouth and scurries away in search of her friend. Before moving out of range, I feel Ping Ping’s Aura pulse out in friendly inquiry, her way of broadcasting her intent, and soon enough, the grumpy red panda climbs down from his tree and accepts the sweet girl’s gift. While he eats, Ping Ping settles in to protect him from the voracious bunbuns, Deflecting them away once they finish their own treats and hop over to investigate, but it doesn’t take long for the Spiritual Plants to take effect. With enough yawns and stretches to send me into cuteness overload, the bunnies gather in a floof pile and fall asleep in the middle of the courtyard, except for Mama Bun who curls up in Lin-Lin’s lap and stares sweetly at my wifey in hopes of getting some more.

Finally free to enjoy my Heavenly dessert, I open the lunchbox and remove the secured travel bowl from inside, with the lid clamped on tight and a small glass container of golden-brown ginger-infused syrup strapped in next to it. Tofu pudding just looks like tofu in water, and the syrup is more water than syrup, but together, these two items represent the culmination of Taduk’s gardening work, with a little help from Charok to blend it all together since my sweet Teacher can barely light a campfire much less boil water on his own. Stomach grumbling at the sight of this delectable treat, I fondly recall my first taste of Spiritual Tofu Pudding, a mouth-watering delight which Shen ZhenWu brought back from the East and probably jump-started my whole healing process. A shame Taduk and Charok haven’t been able to replicate it yet, but here’s hoping eighteenth time’s the charm.

Ignoring the fact that these soybeans were grown in turtle shit, I dig in and savour the first bite. Unfortunately, I already knew it’d be a failure, because Mama Bun’s nose hasn’t even twitched in my direction, meaning something important and magical is being lost in the cooking process. Don’t get me wrong, the tofu pudding is a yummy treat, but no more delicious than any normal dessert, as opposed to the sublime Spiritual Tofu Pudding Shen ZhenWu treated me to. Still, I’m not too bummed about it since even if we never figure out how to make Spiritual Plants fit for human consumption without ruining their magical properties, I can always pop over to the closest Demon-riddled battle-field for a quick Succ if I’m ever feeling metaphysically peckish.

This does raise up a whole host of questions though, but they’ve mostly been sitting on the back-burner since I have more important things to think about. Why do humans not benefit from eating Spiritual Plants when it seems like rabbits and other herbivores clearly do? It also seems odd that the carnivores don’t care about the Spiritual Plants, which brings me back to what the Abbot spoke about when discussing Spiritual Beasts and the formation of Spiritual Hearts. I’m pretty sure the Defiled gain strength through cannibalism, and animals gain strength from eating other animals or Spiritual Plants. It doesn’t really explain how so many herbivores become Spiritual Beasts though, since I’d imagine Spiritual Plants are few and far between, or why humans don’t grow stronger from eating Spiritual Beasts, but not knowing things is hardly new. Either way, I finish off my bowl of tofu pudding without offering to share, not because I’m greedy, but because according to Taduk, I am his test subject and no one else can try it because he wants to keep the variables to a minimum.

Not the worst idea, but I just think he’s insisted on this because he knew I would want everyone to have some. Growing Spiritual Soy Beans was a lot of work, and he wants me happy and healthy again before anything else. Warmed by his good intentions, I enjoy the sweet treat for what it is, and try not to feel too disappointed by the lack of magical happenings or orgasmic deliciousness. There’s just something missing, and I don’t know what, but you gotta hand it to those Imperial chefs. They sure know how to cook up some Spiritual Plants, assuming that’s what the Legate’s tofu pudding was made of.

Wait. Spiritual Plants.

Imperial Chefs.

“What’s the matter hubby?”

Peering at me in a mixture of curiosity and concern, Lin-Lin awaits my final verdict, so I smile mournfully and shake my head. “Nothing’s wrong. The tofu pudding was delicious, but still not the same.”

“Mmm, then what was that face you made?”

Frowning in exaggerated mockery of my expression, Lin-Lin puts on the ugliest scowl I’ve ever seen, complete with overly pursed lips and slumped shoulders. Squeezing her cheeks between thumb and forefinger, I scowl normally and say, “That is not how I look, and I did it because I’m an idiot.” Reiterating everything Xing Yong Wei told me about the Supreme Families and conclude, “I thought the Di family was all about farming, because they’re named for the Earth, but I just realized they probably specialize in growing Spiritual Plants and processing them for human consumption.”

The sympathetic glances from Luo-Luo, Lin-Lin, Sorya, and Anrhi wound me gravely, and once again, I’m reminded that I am a giant idiot. “Wait,” Lin-Lin says, scowling for real this time, and it’s adorable even though I’m still squeezing her cheeks. “Does that mean they have Divine Animals too? Makes sense, ya?”

“Oh, maybe.” Thinking it through, I shrug and say, “Well, we can’t rule out the possibility that they have another way to grow Spiritual Plants.” Or they specialize in cooking long pig, a la Defiled. There’s power in cannibalism, I know there is, but how and why? Maybe the Di family fertilizes their fields with dead Defiled or something. Ugh, I should’ve picked the Abbots brain more when he was around and asked him about how he raised three Spiritual Beasts. He wouldn’t say, but I think at least one of his animals formed a Spiritual Heart by eating Defiled, which further proves my suspicions.

So what is so special about the Defiled? Why don’t humans gain Spiritual Hearts from eating Spiritual Beasts? I ate the snakey snake who supplied the Spiritual Heart for Yan’s shield, but it didn’t taste any different from regular snake, nor did it make me any stronger. Unless it did and I just never noticed, much like the elixir I won from the ill-fated Society Contests. Seriously though, what the hell, world? Have some consistency. Why do Defiled get stronger from eating human corpses, and predators grow stronger from eating their prey, but regular old humans don’t get stronger from eating rice and beef?

So many questions and never any answers. Sometimes, I wish I could just turn my brain off and accept things for what they are, like I did as Baledagh. The questions were still unanswered, but he could use Chi and Heavenly Energy better than Brother could, because Brother had issues putting aside the unknowns, just like I do now. I’m beginning to understand Gerel’s concerns over my lack of faith, because I can finally see how it’s been affecting me all along. He accepts that his strength comes from the Mother Above, empowering him with purpose to defeat the Defiled, but I lack faith and question everything, which in turn limits what I can do. It’s Guiding all over again. I used it flawlessly for weeks before Mila pointed out what I was doing, and then it became a struggle to pick up Guiding again until I learned to trust my instincts and just throw my damn sword. I hate not knowing the answers, but I’m not smart enough to figure things out on my own.

Such is my curse, the curse of knowing just enough to know I don’t know shit.

Interrupted by another pinch to the cheek, Lin-Lin chastises me for dwelling on my thoughts again and drags me and Luo-Luo away to play with Aurie, Sarankho, and Jimjam. The night passes quickly and soon it becomes time to sleep, so I trundle over to pick up the sleeping red panda and cuddle his unconscious form. It feels wrong to do this without his consent, but he’s too adorable to resist, and Ping Ping doesn’t seem to mind as she ambles along behind us off back to my room. Once we’re all under the covers with Aurie splayed out over my legs, I stroke Ping Ping’s head and nuzzle her close, wondering if this is the night I pay another visit to her Natal Palace. I haven’t been back since waking from my coma, but I’m not sure if this is because I can’t do it anymore, or if she doesn’t have a Natal Palace, and without Pong Pong, it’s impossible to confirm. It’s possible Princess has a Natal Palace, but she refuses to leave Song’s side, and Kankin, Akanai’s old, surly quin, most certainly doesn’t, since I already tried napping with him during the trip over here and almost lost a hand in the process.

Then again, maybe Kankin does have a Natal Palace and I just wasn’t invited in. Who knows. Not me, that’s who, and I hate that there’s no one around to ask.

Contrary to my earlier expectations, sleep eludes me for some time as I ponder the Dao and my worldly problems, but eventually, the darkness comes to claim me. However, this is not the shadowy stillness of slumber, but the limitless nothingness of the void come to claim me. My heart surges as I open my ‘eyes’ to take in the Void around me, but the emptiness disappears and is replaced by a seamless, endless boundary of white. Realization settles in as I turn to face Zhen Shi, sitting high above me in his embroidered robes depicting all manner of atrocities in motion, like a sickening, living tapestry thrown about his form. What concerns me even more is that he’s sipping tea at a table exactly like the one Mom and Akanai sat at, with the details perfect right down to pattern on the ornate porcelain teacups and sweet, fragrant scent of the tea.

God dammit. I really need to figure out call blocking or something, because I do not want an eight-hundred year old mass murderer on speed dial in my head...

Chapter Meme