Sitting with Aurie at the edge of the crowd, I hug my sweet kitten for solace while Shing Du Yi’s openly secret vigil continues. It took explanations from three people before I understood the implications of the former Marshal’s actions, but I still don’t have a firm grasp on the entire situation. All I know is seeing how far he went to protect Yuzhen leaves me with conflicting emotions. On the one hand, it’s inspirational knowing he loved his daughter so much he willingly died to neutralize the greatest threats to her safety. On the other hand, the kind, soft-spoken old man literally wiped out his bloodline to keep one person safe, an example made of his own flesh and blood to warn the world to back the fuck off.

I’ll never judge a book by its cover ever again. Kind old grandpa Du Yi was metal as fuck. In one decisive action, he brought down a powerhouse and cowed every faction in the north, something Akanai, Baatar, and Nian Zu couldn’t do even if they worked together. The Imperial Clan doesn’t waste time either, not for a death in the family. They didn’t even have to lift a finger; once the decree came out, the Society executed every man, woman, and child related to the Shing Clan themselves, the once proud family reduced to little more than a footnote overnight.

If karma is real, where does this sit on the scale of good or evil? Taking hundreds, maybe thousands of lives to save one, it’s hard to objectively call it a fair trade. Then again, not all lives are equal, especially in the eyes of a parent. If given the option, would I save the lives of a dozen strangers if it meant Tali or Tate were left to die? Doubt it, I wouldn’t choose a dozen strangers over Aurie much less my precious niece or nephew, even if it were the Emperor himself. Fuck that guy, gimme my kitty. It’s food for thought though: where do I draw the line? Would I let a hundred strangers die for my loved ones? A thousand? Ten thousand?

...Yes. Yes I would.

And it’s a thought which terrifies me. Fear not the evil lurking within the shadows but the righteous doing evil in the name of good. Twist the hypothetical further and things really turn morbid. Would I murder a man to feed my family? Would I torture a man to keep my family safe? If plague broke out, would I burn a city to the ground and kill all its inhabitants just to keep it from spreading? It's not like I want to massacre innocents just as I’m sure Shing Du Yi didn’t want to massacre his clansmen, at least not the younger, innocent ones, but history won’t remember intentions, only results. No one sets out to be a villain, but the path to hell is paved with good intentions.

Take for example Zhen Shi. By all reports a brilliant man, he was consumed by the notion of improving the human body to better fight the Defiled. Now he’s remembered only for his cruel and inhuman experiments and feared by millions as a sadistic, twisted monster. I doubt he set out with that goal in mind, wanting nothing more than to make the human race stronger. Or maybe I’m wrong, maybe evil truly lurked within him and he did it all for funsies. Who knows.

Either way, here’s the thought which’ll have me tossing and turning all night: What if he’d succeeded? What if, Zhen Shi discovered a breakthrough method of strengthening the human body without succumbing to the Spectres? Put it another way, what if instead of a strengthening process, Zhen Shi sought a cure for a common, widespread disease like smallpox? Would we condemn him for inflicting the disease on healthy bodies just so he could study the process of infection? I mean that’s essentially what he did, he tortured and killed innocents to see how one became Defiled. Was it morally wrong to do so? Yes, without a doubt, but if he’d succeeded, then the Empire would have lauded him as a hero and swept all the corpses underneath the rug.

History will remember Shing Du Yi as a traitor but I know he acted with good intentions. Does that balance out the death of innocents who were unlucky enough to be born surnamed Shing? I’m not sure there’s a proper answer. Philosophy sucks. Despite all the horrible things he did, I’d love to read Zhen Shi's notes or pick his brain. It might help explain my situation with Baledagh and Blobby, possibly even offer us a solution.

“Hubby!” With the cutest and softest flying tackle ever, Lin leaps into my arms and gives me a peck on the cheek. Her big brown eyes half-filled with tears, she declares, “I’m gonna have dinner with Daddy but the restaurant won’t let the bear-bears and Jimjam in. Bring them home with you, ya?”

Too sweet. “Sure thing but they’re staying with me tonight. That’s my price, you can’t monopolize the cubs until they’re too big to cuddle with.”

Sticking out her tongue, she whispers, “Fine, but they’ll never be too big to cuddle. They’ll only get comfier and huggier.” Skipping away, she leaps onto Taduk’s shoulders who carries her away with a grin, a lovely, goofy father daughter pair. She isn’t the only one, as Mila arrives soon after to let me know she’s eating with her family and wants me to look after Sarankho, followed by Alsantset and Charok asking me to babysit Tali and Tate while they dine with the shut-in Baatar. My sister’s mood has much improved these past few days, finding hope once she learned of Sarnai’s recent improvements, minor though they might be.

I only pray her hopes are not in vain.

I don’t mind being the babysitter, I’m always happy to have all my fur babies and sweetlings in one place. Squeaking up a storm, the quin pups hop up and down trying to reach Jimjam napping in the tree branches as Tali and Tate skip and play with the bear cubs. Mafu circles around both groups, working overtime to keep everyone safe with help from the other quins, as looking after the young is a group effort. Sarankho looks to join my cuddle session with Aurie, her snowy-white coat mixing with Aurie’s golden-brown as they melt into a mass of fur and fang beneath my expert scritches.

Shuffling to my side before waving his escort away, Fung slumps into the grass with a sigh. “These are dark times, Martial Nephew.”

“Sorry for your loss. I didn’t know you were close.” It makes sense considering the Marshal was Fung’s dad’s boss.

“What? Oh no, I barely knew the man, though I admired him greatly. You know how he became Marshal with no backing?” Chuckling, he leans in and explains. “He presented himself as the safest option to back without offending the two major powers vying for office. Everyone who supported him believed no one else would, so they hoped for a hung decision, giving the smaller powers more leverage and more time to work without a Marshal overseeing their every move. Lucrative stuff. Instead, Shing Du Yi received endorsements from almost two-thirds of the sitting Magistrates and Lieutenant Marshals, allowing him to take office unopposed in a brilliant move. The old man stole the office by playing everyone against each other, and then kept the office and his life by being a man of principle who always acted impartially even to his own detriment. If he believed Yuzhen is the woman for the job, then I say the province is in good hands. May he rest well in the arms of the Mother, as he found victory in death.”

“Then why all the gloom and doom?”

Shrinking back, he sighs once again, so mournful you’d think he’d lost his own father. “It’s partially your fault you know? I didn’t plan on returning so soon, but circumstances required I bring father’s endorsement to Marshal Yuzhen. Mentor has had some choice words for me during our reunion and it’s only gotten worse following the results of the little sparring matches you’ve arranged. Every day? Really? And would it kill you to go easy and allow me a single victory?”

Not my fault, this is all on Baledagh. Wisely choosing to clean up my little brother’s choice of words, I clap Fung on the back and grin. “Work hard and persevere, you’ll earn a victory soon enough. You’re getting stronger by the day.”

“Yet I’m still the weakest of the bunch, last place behind even BoShui. So depressing. I once believed myself a dragon among men, but it turns out I’m merely a... merely a...”

“Duck among chickens?” I offer, snickering at my clever retort. Duck and chicken are slang for male and female prostitutes.

“Hmph. Impugn me if you must, but to dare call my courtesan’s ‘chickens’, I’ll not stand for it, especially not from a junior.”

“In that case, I shall await your challenge, mourn your passing, and comfort your courtesans.”

“Bah.” Snorting with laughter, Fung takes a different tack. “I didn’t want to leave my lovely ladies, but what’s a man to do? Mentor doesn’t like having them around so they’ve been starved of my love and affection this past year. I had much to make up for, my hips are aching from exertion. It's no wonder I've no strength to spar.”

“Ha. They’re probably relieved by your absence.”

“Nonsense. Petty jealousy is unbecoming of you.”

Rolling my eyes, I tell myself there’s nothing to be jealous of. I have two lovely, capable young women who love me for who I am and not what I have. Besides, who am I to say Fung’s courtesan’s don’t truly love him? He certainly shows them plenty of affection, as we all heard during our journey home. “Focus more on your sword and spear work. Honestly, you shouldn’t be losing to BoShui, not in a spar. Your spear offers you superior range and power against his dual gauntlets, but you keep letting him slip past your guard. Take a step back, let him come to you. Keep your distance with jabs and testing strikes, don’t commit right from the start. You’re too ‘all or nothing’, try winning through attrition.”

Fung scoffs. “Hardly an honourable victory.”

“Take notes from the dearly departed Shing Du Yi, victory at any cost.” Though I’m not sure the advice applies in every situation.

Reflecting on my advice, Fung shakes his head and smiles. “You know, you’d make a half-decent politician. I’d have never thought of using an ‘unknown’ shrine to quietly honour a great man. He deserves better, but the Imperials are so touchy about dead scions. An arrogant ass drinks himself into a stupour and slips off a balcony, and a prestigious clan is wiped out in retaliation. Ludicrous.”

Cautioning him to watch his mouth, we return to my home for a meal and drinks. Citing an early morning training session with Akanai, Fung heads back to his room early while Tali and Tate beg for a story before bedtime. Tucking them in with Aurie and the quin pups, I wrack my brain for a story. “There once was a girl named little red riding -”

“You’ve told this one Rainy. She beats up the bears and eats their porridge.” Tate’s tired yawn is heart-melting, he chubby cheeks quivering with effort. “I wanna hear a new story. Please?” Tali doesn’t chime in but her wide-eyed hopeful stare shows she shares her brother’s sentiments.

“A new story huh... How about... There once were three little doggies who lived in three different houses, one made of stra-”

“Heard it. They build a trap and drop a mountain of stones on the wolf.”

“Uh... What about the story of the little mermaid?”

Tali answers this time, excited to join it. “She leaves the cheating prince and runs home to papa, who floods the prince’s kingdom for insulting his daughter.”

“...Why are all the stories I tell so bloody? I should find some nice, wholesome stories.”

With a sweet smile, Tali nuzzles into Aurie’s fur and replies, “But Rainy, those stories are the best. Meanies reap what they sow, ya?”

So bloodthirsty and vindictive, I pray for her future husband’s safety. “Okay, fine, but I’m all out of original stories.”

“Bookshelf.” They both chime in, pointing behind my birdcage. My attempts to dissuade them only earn me tearful gazes, and unable to resist, I resign myself to searching through Yo Ling’s collection for a book of children’s stories while wedged between the cage and aforementioned bookshelf. Roc and his flock are less than thrilled by my jostling, pecking through the leather cage cover to convey their displeasure.

The things I do for love...

Unable to bear it any longer, I grab a few books at random and make my escape, setting the stack down beside the bed. The top tome is marked ‘A treatise on the trade agreements between Sanshu and Shen Yun during the dynasty of...’ blah blah blah. Placing it aside, the next tome is more promising, merely titled ‘Poetry’. Flipping through it, I scan the contents for something I can use to lull the twin terrors to sleep.

-Yellow-red leaves rustle and fall, the ceaseless waters of-

-ten thousand kilometres away from home, my desperate-

-each mark made perpendicular to the last. Pay careful attention to the order as-

-bitter love turned sweet despair, for only-

Pausing in my scan, I turn back to the previous page and take my time reading its contents. ‘-it dictates the flow of energy, which is critical to function. The runes are the language of Energy and one errant stroke out of order will ruin the inscription. In worst case scenarios, not only will you lose time and materials, but the failed product will produce an explosion-”

Runes are the language of Energy.

Runes.

Hidden in the midst of horrible poetry is Yo Ling’s primer on runic inscriptions, his meticulously detailed observations on the craft. This is the jackpot, first-hand knowledge from a runic craftsman, not only explaining what runes are and how they work, but also every mistake he made or difficulty he encountered.

“Rainy, it’s story time...” Tate whines, drawing me out of my stupour.

“Sorry sweetling, I was distracted.” Closing the book with shaky hands, I tell them about my battle with assassins in Sanshu. They’re exposed to too much violence as is, but now’s not the time to worry about it. Halfway through the tale, the twins fall fast asleep cuddled with the snoring quins, leaving me free to peruse Yo Ling’s notes in peace.

Lighting a second lantern to read by, I curl up with Mafu and the bear cubs to continue my studies. Disappointingly, Yo Ling's knowledge starts and ends with a single rune, one he found on a stolen, non-functioning antique helmet. It’s only good for stopping chi-infused strikes and nowhere near impenetrable, but his insights on how it works are fascinating. Essentially, this particular rune is like an intangible shield which stops Chi, keeping Honed weapons from tearing through armour like paper or extinguishing Chi-powered flames and whatnot. The force from an Amplified strike will still be felt, but a strike containing Resonance will be treated like a regular hit. In contrast, Li Song’s runic breastplate is far superior as it mitigates impacts and can even Deflect blows if they’re slow enough.

As with all things, there are limits. The rune has something like a reservoir of energy, a threshold of how much power it can absorb at once. If we denote the threshold as 100 units and the wearer has infinite Energy to replenish the rune’s reservoir, then any attack dealing less than 100 units of damage is unable to break through the runic defences, though the force of regular impact still carries through. Exceed 100 units of damage and the runic armour is no different from standard armour.

Yo Ling’s notes go on to detail trapping Spirits to power and enhance his creations, which is disturbing to say the least. I can only hope these aren’t orthodox practices, but if they are, so what? Power is power, it’s all the same in the end. Besides, even if Yo Ling only knew one rune of limited use and only made enough copies for himself and his captains, it’s still better than nothing. What’s more, his notes on how he deciphered the rune are invaluable, since now I can do the same with the runic rings, Li Song’s breastplate, and Jorani’s one-time use runic baton. No one knows exactly what it does, and I’d be more willing to test it out if I could replace them.

After going through the notes thrice, a thought strikes me and I drag Roc’s cage out and scurry around, flipping through the books one by one while ignoring their angry squawks. Maybe I’ll find more of Yo Ling’s studies hidden within their pages, or a map to his treasures, a list of his hidden allies, something, anything. There’s a real treasure trove here in this bookshelf, and I’ve ignored it for too long.

And to think, I only have these books because no one else wanted them. If Zian ever finds out, he’ll regret it until the day he dies. Between this and my sweet soon-to-be-crafted spring-coiled Spiritual rifle, I’ll be well equipped to deal with whatever life throws my way.

...

That was in no way, shape or form a challenge to the universe.

Please have mercy.

Chapter Meme

– End of Volume 14 –