Savage Divinity

Exciting as it is to compete with the big kids in front of a crowd, the heady rush of victory is no match for the sheer joy and contentment of spending time with my loved ones, so I make sure to take time off from my political wheelings and dealings to do just that.

Perched on my back with arms wrapped around my shoulders, my sweet wifey’s unrestrained laughter fills me with warmth as we hurdle about the basin atop our wooden log while pulling Yan and Mila alongside us. It’s tricky keeping everything stable while propelling about on currents of my own devising, but its good practice with reasonably high stakes considering Mila will probably murder me if I dunk her in front of so many people. The thought of seeing her soaking wet in her slinky red and gold dress is almost tempting enough to risk death, but my jealous nature hates the idea of sharing the visual with so very many people, so I rein in my mischievous nature and settle for some wholesome fun and games instead.

For now. The unwholesome stuff comes later.

Sweet and thoughtful as always, Lin-Lin encourages the crowd to come join us in our games, and soon the basin is filled with people swimming and splashing about. Mostly children since even the commoners find it too scandalous to strip down to their underwear in front of this massive audience, with many still nattering on about Alsantset’s and Tursinai’s ‘scandalous’ swimming attire. It’s silly considering the assortment of slinky, scanty dresses which are so in fashion right now, as my sister and Tursinai were covered from necks to knees with waterproof shirts and shorts, though I will admit their form-fitting outfits were rather tight and left very little to the imagination, almost like a low-tech wet-suit even. That being said, I should remember to ask my sister where she got those swimming outfits from and see if I can get a set for my lovely wives, while finding some way to convince Tenjin to burn his wife’s outfit so I am never tempted by Tursinai’s inviting smile and alluring figure ever again.

On second thought, that probably wouldn’t help. If it wasn’t for the crowd, Tursinai would probably just strip down to nothing and swim in the nude alongside everyone else who grew up in the village, which is both better and worse at the same time. On a side note, I should see about building myself a private indoor pool, or at the very least make plans to expand the bathhouse so it’s big enough to swim in.

After a few circuits around the basin, Mila and Yan cede their places over to Alsantset and Charok, who carry Tali and Tate with them as I tow everyone about the water. Next up is Luo-Luo and Li-Li, as demanded by my sweet wifey, who wants to make sure everyone has a chance to join in on the fun, though the older generation all decline my generous offer. Delighted to finally go swimming together in real life, Ping Ping glides alongside and splashes water at everyone we pass, her mischievous antics eliciting a chorus of laughter from the watching crowd. The quins are also quick to join in on the fun, avoiding most of the strangers by swimming far out into the deeper waters to search for clams, cockles, and other sea life to munch on, though the pickings are understandably scarce. Rakky and the bears also have a grand old time splashing about, sticking close to the shallows and not so much avoiding the crowd as the crowds avoid them, because even commoners know better than to try and pet the giant danger floofs.

Which speaks volumes to my addiction problems. I should seek help right? I can’t just keep risking my life to collect floofs, can I? Then again, the clinical definition of addiction is engaging in compulsive behaviour to the point of causing harm, so no harm, no foul.

Alas, the fun times cannot last forever as Luo-Luo gently reminds us that we have a strict schedule to adhere to, since it would not do to keep our guests waiting at the next venue. Keeping her grumbling to a bare minimum, Lin-Lin is marched off by Mom and Alsantset to attend her next dress change, and I can only sympathize as Mila and Yan escort me away to mine. Honestly, I could get used to walking around in shorts and no shirt, because damn do my abs look and feel good. Baggy clothes are nice and comfy, but if you got it, flaunt it, amirite?

Since my wives also have new dresses to change into and cosmetics to touch up, I let thoughts wander amidst the mind-numbing boredom of following directions from Luo-Luo’s hired stylist mercenaries. The games went rather well, especially considering I won every match, though not in the most upright and honourable manner available. It’s surprising how rigid and inflexible the general mindset of Martial Warriors can be, as no one thought to sacrifice themselves to drag down another player or attack the logs someone else was standing on, and instead tried to fight head on every time. Stupid of them considering Alsantset and Tursinai are almost as strong as Gerel, who himself is the youngest Peak Expert in who knows how long, but stupid is as stupid does. I wasn’t even forced to use my weapon of last resort, which was stealing or borrowing another rod to dual wield and carry the ball vis a vis the chopstick method. This just goes to show how independent and self-reliant Warriors have become, perhaps by virtue of necessity more than anything else, but teamwork makes the dream work as they say, and I intend to force this mindset onto every soldier I can so that we might better contend against the Enemy.

And maybe the Emperor afterwards, but we’ll see how things go. Maybe everything will work out and I won’t have to rebel, or Zhen Shi will win and save me the trouble of worrying about what comes next. Optimism, wooo!

One unexpected benefit of all the fun and games was figuring out how to surf around, which is great for party tricks and all, but not all that useful in combat. One, I can’t move all that fast, since I’m essentially paddling along using Domain Deflection, and two, it’s much easier just to... you know, use a paddle or sail or something. Still, it’s nice being able to knowingly affect the physical world around me using Chi, even if the results are sorely lacking in comparison to what I can do with Blobby’s help, but any progress is good progress. I’m thinking I could probably Amplify and Reinforce the Chi skill to propel myself faster, but I haven’t really figured out External Reinforcement just yet, much less how to Amplify my Domain. At first glance, it doesn’t seem all too difficult a concept, but then I actually tried it and was at a loss on how to proceed. Reinforcement is all about augmenting my natural muscles, but how do I augment a Domain to make it make me stronger? I mean, I know it’s possible because I can do it without really thinking, but only in the moment and not entirely on command. What about Amplification, which is timing an explosion of Chi at the precise moment of impact? How would I go about doing that with my Domain, which in and of itself is a construct of Chi, and therefore would get exploded alongside the Amplification?

Maybe I’m thinking too much about the nitty gritty details and should just keep practising until I figure it out based on feeling and intuition, but I can’t help but be curious about how Chi skills fundamentally work. If basic Reinforcement is augmenting what is physically there, how does External Reinforcement work? Maybe like an exo-suit of Chi that boosts my speed, strength, and durability? That sounds viable and all, but the devil is in the details, because even though I understand the concept of an exo-suit, I really have no idea how one would work, mundane or Chi based, and thus cannot really improve upon the idea. Then again, I doubt most Martial Warriors understand exo-suits either, so how is it possible for them to envision one and utilize External Reinforcement?

With no one to talk to besides my stylists and guards, I voice my thoughts through Sending to the ever-vigilant Kuang Biao who is supervising the help to make sure none of them try to drive a knife through my eye or something equally deadly. To my surprise, the sullen man actually responds with helpful advice, Sending, “Most Martial Warriors also lack a comprehensive understanding of how the human body works, yet are able to Reinforce just fine. They’re even able to utilize this newfangled Panacea method to Heal without any knowledge whatsoever, so why must you insist on such strict standards for yourself? You also mentioned envisioning this skill as a suit of Chi armour? One that helps you move and fight? This is, as the Abbot would say, making the simple complex, when instead you should strive for the opposite. Why would you need to don a suit of Chi armour when you already possess a Domain which serves the same effect?”

And just like that, the curtains part and a whole host of possibilities dawn on me.

I’ve noted it before, but a Domain doesn’t form the shape of a sphere around the Martial Warrior, but is more shaped like the person themselves, because Chi emanates from the skin in all directions, rather from a central point. That said, why would the skin be the anchor point? Better yet, why would it need an anchor point at all? If the Domain emanates out from the Core, and my Core is now distributed throughout my Spiritual Heart of a body, then wouldn’t my Domain emanate out from my entire being? Skin, muscles, bones, everything and anything would be emitting Domain in a way, with no discernible point of emission. It’d be like... a glow stick emitting light, as opposed to magic oozing out of my pores, which is how I’d sorta envisioned it before, though not in such exact detail.

My glow stick allegory is enough to help me make better sense of things as I envision my base Domain as a larger, illusory version of me laid overtop my physical self. No, that’s not enough, that’s just a regular Domain, creating a region in which I retain Authority over my Chi by extending my Core into the physical world. What I want is for my Domain to not only overlap my physical body, but intertwine and interact with it as well. I must merge the physical and metaphysical both, similar to Refining a Spiritual Heart, only this time it’d be temporary as opposed to permanent.

Waving away the intrusive hands plaguing me from every direction, I close my eyes and deploy my Domain as far as it will go, forming a metaphysical shadow of myself whose few extra centimetres of height I envy. Then, in a reversal of Intent, I compress my Domain as close to my skin as possible, solidifying and consolidating it into something similar to the exo-suit I previously envisioned, but different, as it goes beyond the mere physical. My Domain shrinks in size as it integrates with my physical self, settling over me like a shroud and affixing itself in place as if built to do just that, like two complex puzzle pieces perfectly snapping together as intended. Doing so is as easy as Willing it into existence, on account of how my body is a Spiritual Heart meaning I’ve already done the lion’s share of the work. The result is something that is more than just a superficial covering, one which goes past the skin to integrate with my muscles, organs, and bones in a complete merger of my body and Domain.

I’ve always seen my Core and Domain as some extraneous add-on that I installed with Chi, but only because they didn’t exist in my past life. The truth is, my Core and Domain are no different from my brain, heart, and personality, a critical part of me in a physical, mental, and spiritual manner. What was it Dad said? ‘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.’ He told me point blank that my Core is at the very least comprised of my soul, and perhaps even ‘part and parcel of the whole’, but I never really understood it until right now.

I am the Core, the Core is me, or in other words, One with the Self. Perhaps rather than a joining of body and Domain, it would be more accurate to say this is a joining of the body, mind, and soul.

All the little details I’d agonized over are no longer an issue, because my Domain knows exactly how my body works, as it too is now a part of my body and already has all the information needed to carry out my Will. Power flows through and around me in a palpable rush of strength and vigour, my body feeling faster and lighter than ever as I hop lightly in place. Opening my eyes, I find myself effortlessly hopping almost twice my height, without any use of Lightening at all. Eager to test my strength out some more, I head over and grab the heaviest thing in the room, which is the hateful makeup table holding all manner of horrible implements used to poke, prod, dab, and otherwise torment me for long minutes without end. A sturdy, hardwood affair affixed with a burnished bronze plate of a mirror, the table is heavy enough I suppose, but not so heavy that I cannot lift it even without Reinforcement of any kind. However, with my newfangled Domain Exo-Suit, the trickiest part of lifting the table is making sure to secure it properly so it doesn’t break apart under its own weight. Under the effects of External Reinforcement, the table feels so light I’m tempted to grab another one and juggle them, but reason wins out over impulse and I put the table back down again.

I feel so strong, I bet I could even lift Husolt now...

Hang on. I’ve been trying to make sense of the whole metaphysical circulatory system for a while now and have thus far come up with bupkis, but I’ve been missing the obvious connection all along. Isn’t my Domain the metaphysical circulatory system I’ve been looking for, or at least partially so? Food for thought later, but for now, I should focus on the discovery in hand before pursuing other lines of thought.

Turning to Kuang Biao, I grin and say, “Punch me.”

Despite having ordered him to do so, the impact still catches me off guard and sends me reeling back a few steps, but rather than a piercing strike to the chest, the brunt of Kuang Biao’s punch is distributed across my Domain Exo-Suit and ends up feeling more like a solid shove instead. The Domain naturally blunts impacts already, but now, compressed as it is by my Will, the dampening effect is even more pronounced and also more complex. There is more than just External Reinforcement at work, but several skills melded into one, as I can sense innate Reverberation and Deflection also present in the suit which account for the increased defensive properties. Right off the bat, I can see advantages and disadvantages to this consolidation, as it requires less focus and attention to pull off than utilizing all those skills independently, but I cannot separate the defensive aspects from the offensive ones, meaning I cannot put more Chi into one without affecting the others. If I want to hit harder, my defences will simultaneously be boosted, lowering the ultimate heights I can reach in either category. While not exactly a problem considering my ability to Devour Chi on a whim, I should still probably figure out how to do them both separately, but until then, this Domain Exo-Suit will work nicely.

Hmm... I can’t really use the name as it stands, given how I have no idea how to translate exo-suit from English to Common, but what else would fit? Chi Armour is just boring. Chi Stand? Chi Augmentation? I dunno, we’ll work on it later.

“Thanks,” I say, grinning at Kuang Biao and seeing a similar joy reflected in his eyes, if not his face, the man finally warming up to me and his new station in life. During the naval battle against Huanhuzi, I sensed just how little joy was left in this man’s life, his world shattered when he fell from his lofty station on high to become an enslaved Death Corps Guard. The shame of his new status haunts him so, as does the guilt of not knowing what’s happened to his parents, but there was nothing either of us could do. Without revealing too much of what I knew, I asked if he had family and wanted to send a message their way, but he told me nothing we sent would ever be delivered, as contact with the outer provinces was strictly forbidden. Even the Royal Guardians serving alongside me are unable to reach the people back home, which just goes to show how seriously the Imperial Clan takes its isolationist policies.

Though I’ve been unable to help him in any way, shape, or form, I’ve sensed a change in Kuang Biao since the battle that day, though it’s subtle and difficult to describe. He’s... livelier, I suppose, though still stoic and reserved as ever, but he’s more open to offering thoughts and suggestions without too much prying. He also seems more motivated to defend me, and conflicted at the same time, as evidenced by the respect and admiration in his eyes, clouded by a sheen of hesitance and misgivings. Probably because he’s still reporting back to the Eastern Province, though I have no idea what he’s telling them or how he’s getting his messages through. Probably with help from the absentee Xing Yong Wei, the baldy, bearded Divinity who was supposed to be my new Dao Protector and direct me to do all the dirty work that needed doing. The man just up and disappeared after the Imperial Army withdrew from the second lines, and I assume it’s because the Emperor had given up the outer provinces as lost, though we’ve proven him wrong thus far and might soon turn the tables against the Defiled.

Regardless of Kuang Biao’s conflicting loyalties, I still trust him with my life when facing the Defiled, though I’m careful to always keep a couple Sentinels and Aspirants around so I’m not wholly reliant on the Death Corps to keep me safe. Patting the man on the arm as quiet thanks for his advice, I allow the stylists to get back to work and suffer their ministrations a little longer. Many agonizing minutes later, I emerge from the changing room looking no different from before, or at least no different in any meaningful way. Okay, my hair is done nicely and tucked around a pretty circlet, and I’m wearing my golden armour again, but I mean, I could’ve put the armour on myself and who cares about men’s hair? And the makeup, god, the makeup... I never knew how often I touched my face until I wasn’t allowed to do it anymore, else I might smudge the makeup that makes me glow like a revenant back from beyond the grave. When I looked at myself in the water and saw my proper reflection, I almost jumped out of my skin because I thought Casper the shiny fucking ghost was staring back at me.

Worst of all, I’m not allowed to wear Tranquility and have to keep it strapped to my belt alongside Peace, while a Death Corps Guard holds Unity nearby. It would’ve been difficult greeting guests with all my weapons in hand, but I trust less than three quarters of the people invited and will be out in the open for many hours starting in just a few minutes, since we’re doing this out in the open plaza at the front of the Bulwark instead of inside the sturdy, nigh-impenetrable fortress stationed so conveniently nearby. Luo-Luo figured Lin-Lin would prefer an outdoor venue, and to be fair, she’s right, but I dunno man. I get lectured when I sneak out into the courtyard to gather my pets at night, but announcing my schedule beforehand to tell everyone where I’ll be standing in plain view for several hours of the day just seems a wee bit more dangerous to me...

No sense complaining too too much though, because it’s only for the day, one which is still young despite the many hours of work I’ve already put in. Putting on my best smile, I follow my guards out into the plaza to begin welcoming guests and receiving wedding gifts, a long and tedious prospect filled with far more social interaction than I care to go through in a year, much less a day. Why can’t the guests just leave all their gifts on a table before grabbing a drink and a snack like people do at regular parties? The gifts aren’t even wrapped, which sucks because opening presents is like half the fun of receiving them in the first place, but that would mean no one else can see how awesome and expensive the gift each guest brought is. It shocks me that gift giving has been politicized to such an extent, with people falling over themselves to give away the most eye-catching gift just so they can be the talk of the town for a day.

Even the order in which gifts are given must be carefully curated, lest we somehow give offence to someone by receiving a personage of lesser standing before them. I hate this stuff and would honestly do away with it all if not for Luo-Luo’s assistance. I would have never had the patience to work out what order to accept gifts in, but luckily, I didn’t have to because she had it all figured out before I could even ask. That being said, even I could’ve gotten the first guest right, though I would’ve been tempted to move Commander General Shuai Jiao down the list a few spots, if only to deflate his ego just a bit. Though I am not one to care much about fashion, Shuai Jiao’s serviceable but well-worn robes are so plain and boring it’s almost like he’s trying to make a statement with his shabby outfit. I still have no idea why he didn’t end up joining the Brotherhood, mostly because Monk Happy refuses to say anything, but it’s easy to see that Shuai Jiao can walk the walk and talk the talk, but he doesn’t truly hold the Brotherhood’s precepts in his heart.

Because if he did, he wouldn’t have become a soldier much less the highest ranking Officer in Central, a lofty position one cannot achieve with mere strength alone.

Accompanying him is none other than his Disciple, Yong-Jin. Unlike his Mentor, the younger Warrior is dressed to the nines in fancy threads and bedecked in all manner of shiny jewellery, including a silver circlet so thick you could probably beat someone to death with it. At those proportions, it’s more of a head protector than anything, but one that leaves his face and precious man-bun uncovered to reveal his boring personality for all to see. Seriously, his face is so plain and uninteresting I couldn’t describe it even if I tried, other than to say it is pale, flat, and squarish. Not to say he’s ugly, but no matter how you dress him, he’ll never be the prettiest belle of the ball. Okay, sure, he’s got a sorta manly, stoic, Chad thing going, with his neat man-bun, well-defined masculine features, and thick, rippling muscles poking out from underneath his robes, which he wears well now that he no longer feels out of place in them, but err...

I forgot where I was going with all this, but seriously. I can’t stand this guy. Besides, Yan called me pretty, so screw him and his stupid face.

Greeting me with a warm smile that is anything but, Shuai Jiao approaches in an ambling shuffle without removing his hands from his sleeves, much less bowing, saluting, or even nodding as decorum would demand. “This one offers you his most heartfelt congratulations,” he says in his soothing baritone timbre, his back straight and eyes clear as we face off in an unseen contest of wills. Though poorly dressed, no one would ever mistake Shuai Jiao for anything but a Warrior, his dumpy robes doing nothing to hide his muscular physique. While far from the largest or most imposing Warrior around, there is a stifling quality to his presence which I am all too aware of, and not just because of his renowned reputation. Nian Zu, Ryo Dae Jung, and even Mitsue Juichi lacked this imposing aspect that Shuai Jiao so naturally exudes, and it only now occurs to me that he is close enough to kill me before anyone can stop him, not even the powerful Monk Happy chanting nearby in his ceremonial red and yellow robes, so similar to the ones Mahakala wore during my banquet to welcome Luo-Luo.

Not that Shuai Jiao wants to kill me here and now, for many reasons including the many witnesses around us, but the fact that he could is still unnerving.

How to respond to this blatant provocation? If I insist he bow or salute as my station demands, it makes me look petty and insecure about my rank, but if I allow his insolence go without reprisal, then that sets the tone for the rest of the guests who will similarly push the envelope of decorum. Thankfully, I prepared for this beforehand and bounced a few ideas off of Luo-Luo, so I think I have a good riposte in hand.

“Shuai Jiao!” Beaming as if standing before a dear friend, I approach the older Warrior with arms wide open and wrap him in a hearty hug, which is a clear violation of his personal space and a gross deviation from how this all should’ve played out. “Great to see you in good health, though would it have killed you to wear something nicer? This is my wedding, for Heavens sake, not a funeral, and even the monks of the Brotherhood dressed for the occasion. Thankfully, Little Yong-Jin knows how to dress himself, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to let the student become the teacher when it comes to fashion.” Gesturing at Monk Happy and man-bun to drive the point home and gesticulate the conversation to the people who can’t hear us, I treat the haughty hypocrite like a dear friend and therefore equal, which neatly does away with the problem of his earlier insolence and adds a splash of my own by eschewing his lofty title. If he rebuffs me here, then I can raise issue with his behaviour in retaliation, so he has no choice but to accept things as they stand. What’s more, no one will think his actions impudent anymore, nor will the other guests try to follow his example since I’ve given them an acceptable explanation for his overly familiar entrance.

Everyone in the know will see through all this bullshit of course, but that’s politics for you; Liars pretending not to lie while also pretending to believe the lies of other liars.

Truth be told, I would much rather befriend Shuai Jiao and work with him against the Enemy, because regardless of his hubris and lofty goals, he is still one of the better men of Central, not to mention a formidable Warrior and brilliant tactician in his own right. The problem is that his actions and attitude have shown that he does not respect my title of Legate and intends to do all the heavy lifting himself, but I will not be treated like a child and told to sit in the corner. I wouldn’t mind his attitude so much if he wasn’t actively opposing all my efforts out of what can only be spite, not to mention how he still refuses to acknowledge the Irregulars as an asset to the Imperial Army. He likes the crossbows, catapults, and the additional manpower they provide, but he still harps on about how warfare is the ‘holy duty’ of Martial Warriors everywhere, and not a place where ‘mere mortals’ should tread.

And so I must defeat him politically in order to show everyone which one of us is the top dog of the outer provinces.

Me I hope. Not because I want the job, but because I believe I can lead us to victory in a way no one else can.

After ragging on Shuai Jiao’s outfit and ‘little’ Yong-Jin some more, I walk them both back to the table where I was supposed to stay and face them once more, pretending like I forgot myself in a moment of excitement and am ready to move on to the business at hand. There were other ways I could’ve solved this little dilemma, but this was the most fun and rewarding, as now the general population will see how friendly I am with their hallowed Commander General and possibly rethink our respective positions. I’ve always been seen as the rising young dragon who is destined for future greatness, a potential hero in the making that still needs time to grow. In contrast, Shuai Jiao is the proven quality, a veteran hero who everyone can rely upon to save Central from the Enemy, but I can no longer accept this. It’s high time people started seeing me as their Legate and leader in truth, because despite his fancy new rank, I am still Shuai Jiao’s superior and the highest ranking Official in the Outer Provinces.

I’ll settle for people seeing us as equals for now, but if Shuai Jiao thinks I’ll roll over to his demands at the snap of his fingers, then he’s in for a rude awakening.

Much of my smugness must be leaking through my expression and Aura, because Yong-Jin looks none too pleased. Not Shuai Jiao though, who is still all sunshine and smiles, a savvy political animal down to the core. “Forgive this one for his lacking attire,” he says, his back ramrod straight and hands still tucked away in his sleeves despite his polite appeal. “This outfit has served me for so many years, this one did not even think twice before putting it on this morning. This one even met the Emperor dressed in these robes, though in retrospect, this one should have thought better of it. Thankfully, no calamity came to pass and this one returned home unscathed, for the Emperor is magnanimous indeed.”

Meaning that the Emperor took no issue with Shuai Jiao’s clothing, so I should stop my bitching and moaning. Hang on, did he just imply that he only has this one outfit? Surely not, right? Studying his brown robes, I notice several recently mended patches that match up with the injuries he suffered at Bai Qi’s hands, including an entire sleeve that was almost torn off but the Commander General’s own broken, protruding arm bone. I mean, it’s entirely possible he chose to wear this particular outfit today by chance and has ten or twelve others sitting in his closet back home, but still... gross. I mean, there’s being frugal and then there’s keeping an outfit you lost several litres of blood in, which is just all sorts of wrong. Still, why would he wear the same robe for decades? Were it anyone else, I’d write them off as a crazed kook, but this is Shuai Jiao we’re talking about. There’s gotta be a reason, but I haven’t the foggiest idea why.

Filing away this mystery to pore over later, I wave my hand in casual dismissal and laugh. “Come now, the teasing is all in good fun. Don’t take it to heart, because I’d sooner expect you to show up naked than wearing something tailored and dyed.” I probably should’ve left that second part out, but I couldn’t resist taking a few jabs at his dignity, especially after all the headaches he’s caused me. Well, not me personally, but Luo-Luo in my absence, and I’m the only one allowed to bully her like that.

Conceding this initial round in my favour, Shuai Jiao silently prods his Disciple to action. Handing me a plain wooden box, Yong-Jin drops it in my waiting hands a tad too early, a petty move considering there was literally no way I would’ve ever fumbled it. Lifting the lid of the box reveals a set of neatly bound books, the leather spines utterly blank and unmarked like the rest of Shuai Jiao’s gift. As I move to pull one out and flip through the contents, Shuai Jiao’s polite cough is enough to stay my hand and I meet his gaze with a single raised eyebrow, unwilling to play his games and ask outright. Still wearing a smile which will never reach his eyes, Shuai Jiao says, “This one has long since heard of your inquisitive nature and fondness for reading traffic logs, and thus saw fit to complete this rare collection of yours.”

That is all that is said, but his mention of traffic logs sends a chill down my spine. My copy of Zhen Shi’s notes are titled ‘Traffic logs for Shen Huo’s twelfth district’, which means that this must contain the rest of the notes which Fu Zhu Li didn’t know existed, much less had missing from his collection. How Shuai Jiao knew I’d been reading these notes or that I lacked a complete collection is a mystery, but I will not be intimidated by his knowledge. Besides, it’s not like it’s illegal to own a copy of Zhen Shi’s notes, just frowned upon in polite society, so this information provides no leverage for him to use against me. “Thank you for this enlightening gift,” I say, closing the lid carefully so as not to appear flustered or upset. “A difficult item to procure, I imagine.”

“Not for someone with your standing and connections,” Shuai Jiao replies, his eyes darting away for the briefest of moments, but long enough for me to track his gaze to Monk Happy. “But be wary, for knowledge can often be more dangerous than any sword or spear.”

“A warning I will take to heart.” Before turning around and using said knowledge against my foes. Much as I would love to flip through these books and read what happens in experiments 7485 and 11548 to see what Zhen Shi was rambling about, this is neither the time nor place for forbidden studies. Handing the books over to Kuang Biao and Sending him an order to see them safe, I idly wonder if the Death Corps themselves are the reason Shuai Jiao knows about my reading habits. Then again, Shen ZhenWu might’ve told Shuai Jiao himself, as the man did sit in my bed and rifle through the notes once upon a time, right before a couple Half-Step Divinity Wraiths tried to take his head. Just because I haven’t heard from the former Legate doesn’t mean no one else has, and let us not forget that Yong-Jin was chosen to replace me after I shattered my Core.

Whatever. I should just assume that my Imperial foes know everything the Death Corps knows and plan accordingly from there.

Though the gift has been received, Shuai Jiao and Yong-Jin have yet to leave, and I’d rather not have to dismiss them. Mostly because doing so is not to my advantage, especially considering their continued presence here is not an insult directed towards me, but at the Southern Marshal who is slated to come next. Heaving a sigh that is faker than his smile, Shuai Jiao shakes his head and gestures towards the basin waters before getting to the point. “A fine display you put on out there, but this one must confess to a modicum of disappointment. The games are most certainly a good fit for this joyous occasion, but as a Warrior familiar with the Blessing of Water, I had hoped to see more of the Legate’s Martial progress beyond the superficial.”

Ha. He used a pronoun. That’s a point for me, right? I dunno why it would be, but I’ll take it. “My current status presents me with something of a dilemma,” I reply, having the answer already on hand because I’m paranoid like that. “As Legate of the Outer Provinces, I can hardly spar with my similar aged peers anymore, as it would put them in an awkward position given the vast disparity in rank.” Make no mention of skill, but everyone listening will hear my flimsy excuse for what it is, thinly veiled arrogance that is well deserved now that I have few opponents within my age group anymore, not in true combat. Mila and Yan might be able to hurt me, but I can just Cloud Step away from everyone else while throwing Peace and firing bullets at them. Real bullets, since I haven’t figured out Chi or Water Chi bullets just yet, but I’ll get it soon enough. Seriously, how does Ping Ping fire Water Bullets solid enough to shatter steel? Whenever I try it, my Water Chi just splashes harmlessly off every surface, like actual water...

“Nonsense.” Giving no face whatsoever, Shuai Jiao dismisses my answer with a snort. “Rank means nothing in a spar, for how else can a Warrior be expected to improve? Your sparring partners do you no favours by holding back in practice, for such lackadaisical efforts will only give rise to false confidence. Why not exchange a few blows with Yong-Jin here, and show the audience how far you have progressed along the Martial Path?”

God I hate these games of politics, especially when I’m not winning. How am I supposed to respond? Claim I win my spars fair and square? No, that makes me sound petulant and whiny, not to mention lends weight to Shuai Jiao’s statement. Outright refusal is impossible, since it’ll make me look scared. I could take him up on his offer and spar against Yong-Jin, but this is exactly what the Colonel General wants, so I don’t want to give it to him so easily. Maybe I should ask to spar with Shuai Jiao himself? Mm, bad idea, because I am most definitely not his match and cannot afford to gift him an opportunity to beat me silly on my wedding day.

I supposed sparring with Yong-Jin is my best option, but it’s also the most obvious one, which sets my spidey senses to tingling. Unable to come up with an alternative, I am barely able to control my smile as I consider how badly I should beat Yong-Jin. “Well, I don’t want to hold up the festivities for too long, but I suppose a quick spar wouldn’t hurt. Have you a location in mind?”

“The field you arranged is just fine.” Offering me a Martial salute, Yong-Jin bows his head and turns towards the water to indicate I should lead the way, as I should. His Mentor can butt heads with me all he likes, but Yong-Jin is only a lowly Major and far below my lofty status, so he must mind his manners. That being said, either he thinks I’ve somehow been lying about my strength and fooling everyone with tricks, or he’s so confident in his own strength that he believes he can defeat me, and given how well informed Shuai Jiao has proven to be, I doubt it’s the former.

Leaping out over the audience and Cloud-Stepping out into the basin, I land lightly on the nearest log and turn back to see how Yong-Jin intends to traverse the same distance, only to falter in place as I find him hot on my heels and bounding over the logs in a phenomenal display of Lightening. Though not quite Lin-Lin levels of mastery, Yong-Jin’s skills are top-tier and he makes it look effortless as walking along a pier, his boots still dry despite having come so far. After a brief moment of thought, I realize that I am a giant idiot as I should’ve expected him to be much stronger than he was two years ago. On the evening of Mahakala’s death, when Shen ZhenWu tried to hard sell me on becoming his Oath Sworn lackey, the Seneschal told me that the young talents of the Imperial Clan possessed skills that would put my own to shame. Then he promised me that with proper training under the Imperial Protector’s tutelage, I would rise up to surpass all others and truly become the Number One Talent in the Empire, eventually surpassing Dad in two decades and Akanai in three. I passed on all that because fuck Oaths of service, but it appears Yong-Jin here accepted Shen ZhenWu’s offer and has been training under the Chief Baldy surnamed Liang, who is somehow related to the Grand Marshal and Shen ZhenWu both.

Which means Yong-Jin might actually prove something of a challenge to defeat.

...

Welp, too late to back out now. Besides, it’ll be fun to push my limits against someone my age with a similar Blessing, especially with minimal risk involved. Cheeks hurting from straining against my smile, I head out to the centre of the basin amidst cheers from the crowd, with one voice in particular piercing through the hubbub to reach my ears.

“Kick his butt, hubby!”

And with that, my victory is all but secured, for I do not dare disappoint my sweet wifey on our wedding day.

Chapter Meme