“Ow.” Quashing the urge to glare daggers at the offender, I swallow my ire and sigh instead. “Doesn’t matter what you poke me with. It still hurts.”

“Fascinating.” Tossing aside the hair he plucked from his assistant’s balding head, the wizened Healer Taiyi ZhuShen lifts my good hand to his one remaining eye so he can better inspect the minuscule wounds, though considering he pierced my skin with a single strand of hair, I doubt there’s any markings to be seen. Then again, I suppose it’s for the best since I’m so underweight that even Healing the minor scrapes caused by needles and wooden scrapers is taxing my body to near exhaustion, which is why I left my torn shoulder muscles untreated in favour of a sling. “Most fascinating,” he continues, stroking his silken white beard whilst wholly oblivious to my discomfort. “The skin is supple and healthy as can be, neither drier nor thinner than expected, yet it provides next to no protection from injury.” Clearing his throat, the esteemed Healer lowers his head and sheepishly asks, “Might I take a sample to study? I wouldn’t need much, a palm-sized piece should suffice.”

Before I can reject him, a second Healer chimes in, this one a swarthy, thickset man named Taokang Geyan, whose dark, bushy eyebrows make him look perpetually surprised. “Bah. Still playing around with body-reinforcement elixirs? A waste of good materials is what it is, not to mention ruining the lives of many a promising warrior, for your efforts are based on a fundamentally flawed premise. What good is medicine if spread on the body? It must be imbibed to take full effect.”

“Better still if it can directly enter the blood instead.” Lishan Suzhen, the only female Healer present and the oldest of the bunch, takes this opportunity to state her opinion while forcefully pressing on a nerve in my left armpit. An acupoint, she calls it, one which is supposed to clear the clogged ‘meridians’ and facilitate my recovery, but has yet to do anything except cause discomfort and put my hand to sleep. It’s not the worst thing considering how much my arm hurts, so I tolerate the handsy old grandma with minimal embarrassment. “I’ve found much success by cutting open a vein and pouring the medicine directly to the wound, though I worry the boy might not survive it.”

The state of physical medicine in the Azure Empire is absolutely appalling. While the Healers here might not be at the top of their chosen profession, else they wouldn’t be stuck working on the front lines, they’re still some of the best minds in medicine humanity has to offer, yet here they are spewing a bunch of dark-ages medieval bull-shit. It shouldn’t really surprise me considering the level of technology and how stupid people can be, but I figured that Healers who literally sense everything happening within the human body would have a better grasp of how it works. Unfortunately, they aren’t big on peer review around here, which means most Healers come up with their own half-baked theories and never bother getting a second opinion, so they assume their theory and base subsequent theories on a faulty premise, leading to a tangled-noodle doctrine of medicine that is almost entirely wrong, yet still works because Chi.

“Technically, medicine can make its way into the bloodstream through the skin,” I say, gently extracting myself from old lady Suzhen’s hold and massaging my limp arm to get the blood flowing again. “And in certain situations, it might even be more effective than ingestion, since stomach acids can interfere with certain medicines. Under the tongue, for example, is one area where the blood vessels are extremely close to the surface, making it a great entry point for medication.” Ignoring one-eyed ZhuShen’s pleased smirk and rotund Geyan’s thoughtful frown, I turn around to face the stern Suzhen and explain, “Instead of slashing a vein to insert medicine into the bloodstream, it would be better to use something like a hollow needle instead, though you’d have to be careful about letting air in as well. While it might seem harmless, a bubble of air could cause a heart attack, stroke, or respiratory failure if it travels to the heart, brain, or lungs respectively. You can look at venomous snakes for one such example of using injection to deliver a substance directly into the blood.”

My piece said, all three Healers try to ask their questions at the same time, resulting in an indecipherable clamour which I cannot make out. Glaring hatefully at one another, they all try a second, then a third time to similar result, but each one is too prideful to take a step back. Instead of settling it like calm, rational professionals, they instead trade sneers before leaving the decision in my hands, their eyes all filled with unspoken promises and barely implied threats to sway my decision. There’s really no winning with these old fogeys, so I instead sigh and say, “Honoured Healers, if you would like to discuss the Dao of Medicine, I would be happy to invite each of you to my camp for tea and refreshments, but I will need time to prepare. I’ll arrange everything as soon as we’re finished here, so why don’t we get back on topic?”

Reminded of the situation, the three Healers at least have the good graces to look embarrassed, which makes me glad I didn’t bring Lin along for this visit, because the last thing I need is for her to laugh at their discomfort. When I agreed to follow through with Junior’s plan, I didn’t think there’d be an entire crowd here to receive me, but apparently the chance to study a Martial Warrior with a shattered Core was too much to pass on for the Healers of Sinuji, even if the Disciplinary Corps has it out for me. One-eyed Taiyi ZhuShen, stocky Taokang Geyan, and matronly Lishan Suzhen are only the most senior and influential of the bunch, but thankfully the other Healers have been relegated to quietly watching from the sidelines, including Abjiya and Jibari who came along to lend insight to the discussion. With this many Healers present, it’d be hard for Jixing and the Disciplinary Corps to discredit their findings, but having seen the three most senior Healers bickering like schoolchildren, I worry I’ll die of natural causes long before they reach a consensus.

I’m not asking for much. All I want is for a Healer who isn’t my Teacher to publicly state that I’m weaker than a commoner and utterly unfit for battle so I can maybe go back to the Citadel where they’ll be hot baths and hot food. With Dastan and everyone else, of course, which means it definitely won’t happen, but a man can dream.

“Well, it’s obvious the boy isn’t faking,” Taiyi ZhuShen begins, running a finger over his ornate eye-patch. “The physical weakness and shortness of breath can be feigned, but there’s no explaining how he tore his muscles so severely by simply dragging a man several meters or even how the biscuit we all watched him eat left his gums bloodied and lacerated.”

“Any fool with eyes can see the boy’s ailments are genuine.” Lishan Suzhen’s frigid demeanor is one Mom and Akanai would approve of, never one to mince words. “The issue lies in proving this to the Empire at large without parading him through every city and village in Central. His muscles show no sign of atrophy, his eyes remain focused and unclouded, his mind sharp and memory unaffected, all of which means that aside from being grossly underweight, there is nothing physically wrong with his body. Unsteady legs, shortness of breath, inability of his lungs to fully inflate, we are unable to find any observable cause for his many symptoms, and until we do, we cannot act carelessly. We can hardly expect everyone to simply take us at our word in a matter of this magnitude, not with the forces involved, and if we speak without proof, we’ll be discredited in an instant.”

“Better to stay silent and leave things be, but this Geyan was never one to fall in line.” Patting his portly belly, the swarthy Westerner chuckles and says, “The greatest issue lies in our lack of knowledge regarding shattered Cores, and indeed the Martial Path itself. Seeing the boy’s plight, it raises questions few have ever asked regarding commoners and the Energy of the Heavens, and his theories hold substantial weight. To think, the Mother’s Love would go so far as to shelter each and every one of Her children from the rigors of this world, for without this protection, I fear all would be like our little friend here.” Shaking his head with a sigh, he adds, “Truly the student of the Medical Saint to possess such comprehensive knowledge and understanding to reach such a conclusion, but alas, we lack your Teacher’s… atypical mindset and extraordinary brilliance.”

I’d be offended for Taduk’s sake, but to be fair, Geyan isn’t wrong.

Pretty much everything I’ve shared with the Healers was common knowledge in my past life or guesswork, but I suppose standards of proof are lower here. ‘If I can’t think of a counterpoint, then it must be right’ is a terrible mindset, but at least this time it’s working in my favor. Still, as a self-professed man of science, I feel compelled to say, “Most of my theories are conjecture. There could be another reason for my physical frailty besides ‘all of humanity is unconsciously using Heavenly Energy’, but it’s the theory that makes the most sense.” I haven’t even gotten into my whole teeth spiel because I didn’t want all the Healers of Sinuji to dismiss me as a mule-brained idiot. Honestly, the fact that everyone believes teeth regrow naturally annoys me more than it should, but I can’t think of any way to prove it.

“Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo.” Interjecting for the first time, the Abbot stands with palms pressed together as per usual, though at least this time he didn’t come out of stealth and scare the shit out of everyone present. I figured it would be rude to bring a Death Corps guard in since I’m asking these respected Healers for a favor, but my paranoia wouldn’t let me come in unprotected. To this end, I imposed on the Abbot to publicly attend and pull my ass out of the fire if need be, but I didn’t expect him to take part in the discussion. “It should come as no surprise that Junior Brother’s plight stems not from a physical condition, but a spiritual one, for the root of his ailments was caused by the destruction of his Spiritual Weapons.”

Judging by the sharp intake of breaths from all the Healers around me, I’m not the only one who just had a ‘Eureka’ moment. Since no one else is responding, I say, “I always figured we called them Spiritual Weapons because they’re made from Spiritual Hearts, but why are they called Spiritual Hearts?”

“A question which touches upon the crux of the matter,” the Abbot replies, his wrinkled face breaking into a grandfatherly smile, “But one which cannot be answered without going into great depth.” Gesturing for everyone to take a seat, it surprises me when everyone in the room pulls up a chair to listen, including the three oldest Healers who have yet to agree on anything. A sign of their respect for the Abbot I suppose, though considering this is their first meeting, I don’t see why they hold him in such high esteem. Everyone I’ve ever talked to treat the Penitent Brotherhood like a joke, but all the esteemed Healers in this tent treat the Abbot like he’s their great-grandfather even though some of them look just as old, if not older.

Once everyone is seated and ready, the Abbot takes a deep breath and launches right into his lecture. “As you already know, a Spiritual Heart is simply an item which has absorbed a certain amount of Heavenly Energy and can be utilized as a catalyst for Chi. It can be mineral or plant, but most Spiritual Hearts are fashioned from the body-parts of living animals. Teeth, bones, claws, and skin are the most common of the bunch, but there are records of other organs such as stomachs, lungs, and yes, even actual hearts becoming Spiritual Hearts, but there is no general consensus on how Spiritual Hearts are formed, or any real, organized study into them whatsoever, because it’s believed that the time frame required for a Spiritual Heart to form vastly exceeds the lifespan of Martial practitioners.” Smiling, the Abbot adds, “This humble monk has personally seen the formation of no less than three Spiritual Hearts, in the form of a tiger’s skeletal frame, a rooster’s vocal organ, and a panda’s fangs.”

...Wait.

Hang on.

Three?

The Abbot has seen three animals forming their Spiritual Hearts?

So… he has more floofs? I haven’t even met the rooster yet, so when am I going to see the tiger and panda? I bet they’re so cute and fluffy… I wonder if he tried to turn the tiger vegetarian? I want to hug a panda, they’re like bears, but goofier. As an aside, it’s kinda cute that Kukku loves screaming so much that he turned his voice-box into a Spiritual Heart. Adorable, but I get why Jorani hates the rooster now. It must suck being woken by a Chi-infused cock-a-doodle-doo.

The audience devolves into a clamor of shock and disbelief, evidently reading more into the Abbot’s claim than I do, unless they too are avid floof enthusiasts like myself. Unfortunately, before I can get a real read on why they’re so surprised, the Abbot holds a hand up for silence and the hubbub dies down. “While the Empire at large believes it takes thousands of years before a Spiritual Heart can form, this monk believes this is not the case, at least insofar as animals go. How many thousand-year old beasts can truly be lurking about out in the wild? Nature is cruel, and even the most powerful and dangerous of creatures can succumb to age or disease, so to believe that every creature bearing a Spiritual Heart is thousands of years old would be folly. To prove this, this monk hand raised a clutch of chickens from birth and directed one, which was subsequently named Kukku, to form a Spiritual Heart after only mere decades of life, sixty-three years in total to be exact.”

Aw, in terms of Spiritual Beasts, Kukku is practically a baby… I wonder if Mama Bun is the same. Probably not, since she lacked any and all guidance and is pretty stupid to boot. She might really be thousands of years old, though she’s still my sweet baby floof. Ping Ping and Pong Pong though, they might not be as old as I thought, though Ping Ping is at least eight-hundred years old, since that’s the oldest recorded sighting of her.

While I muse on about the actual age of the animals around me, the Abbot’s declaration has sent the gathered Healers into a tizzy, though no one is brave enough to call the monk a liar. As well they should since it goes against generally accepted knowledge, but I know better than most that what most people think is not necessarily the truth. Still, I ask, “How did you guide a rooster into forming a Spiritual Heart?”

“Another good question, Junior Brother, but first, let us make sure we are all in agreement.” Taking a look around the room, the Abbot asks, “Is there anyone present who cares to voice dissent regarding this monk’s earlier explanation regarding what constitutes a Spiritual Heart?” Since no one speaks up, the Abbot nods and continues, “Thus, we are all in agreement that a Spiritual Heart is simply an object which has absorbed the requisite amount of Heavenly Energy. As such, this monk does not claim to have guided Kukku to form his Spiritual Heart, but merely provided the required Heavenly Energy to do so.”

“Impartation of Heavenly Energy?”

“Impossible. That’s a myth.”

“Does the Brotherhood possess an Elemental Spirit?”

“That makes more sense, but it could also be a natural Heavenly Font, such as the Eternal Flames spewing from Yutian Mountain or the Earthen veins beneath Shen Jin.”

Though the Abbot holds his hand up for silence again, this time it takes the Healers longer to quiet down, and I organize these new tidbits of information for future use. I don’t know what Impartation of Heavenly Energy is, but Elemental Spirits are referring to Blobby’s extended family, while natural fonts are something I’ve heard of, but never actually seen. Taduk claimed they were the source of Heavenly Energy in the world, and they come in many forms, such as the aforementioned eternal flame and Heavenly veins, but also spread by Heavenly winds and congealed into Heavenly waters. Honestly, I thought they were all Blobby variants, but apparently, there’s a difference between Elemental Spirits and Heavenly Fonts, though what that might be, no one is saying.

Once everyone quiets down, the Abbot says, “How the Heavenly Energy was provided, this monk cannot say, for it touches upon secrets this monk is not at liberty to divulge, but the method is neither simple nor entirely effective seeing as Kukku was the only chicken to succeed out of a clutch of hundreds.” Even knowing the low success rates, I’m more tempted than ever to join the Brotherhood. I love eating meat and having a dick, but I would also love to turn all my pets into near-immortal Spiritual Floofs. Shaking his head in cordial regret, the Abbot half-jokes, “Had this monk known beforehand how taxing the ordeal would be, he might have never gone through with the experiment. Regardless, it shows that a Spiritual Heart can form in a shorter time frame, so long as sufficient Heavenly Energy is provided. The question remains, how does one take Heavenly Energy and instill it into one’s bones or organs?” Nodding at Taiyi ZhuShen, the Abbot adds, “This monk believes Healer ZhuShen is best suited to answering this, since his study into body-strengthening medications touches closely upon it.”

Surprised at being handed the baton, the one-eyed Healer strokes his wispy white beard in thought while obviously basking in the spotlight, and everyone else has no choice but to hide their grimaces and wait. After a long and dramatic sigh, Taiyi ZhuShen says, “I must admit, I began my body-strengthening research in hopes of changing the Martial Path as we know it. For beasts, their Spiritual Hearts are often fashioned from their deadliest natural weapon, so if humans were capable of the same, then we would have stalwart warriors with iron skin, steel muscles, and jade bones. Many of my elixirs use Spiritual Plants as ingredients, but to minimal effect if I’m being honest. Akin to using a spear to kill a fly, the costs far outweigh the benefits, but this is not to say there is no benefit at all.” Straightening with pride, he pats his chest and exclaims, “Though my Disciples are far from the strongest Martial Warriors of their generations, they are much hardier than your average soldier, able to ward off mundane steel with bare flesh before Developing their Domains.”

“At the cost of speed and flexibility,” Taokang Geyan points out, and I sense the two old Healers have something of a grudge between them. “Which is the sole reason why they are so lacking compared to their peers. They move like men ten times their age, so you might as well encase them in a mountain of iron for all the good their defenses do.”

“While my methods are not without flaws, I believe we are not here to discuss the validity of body tempering, but rather the formation of Spiritual Hearts.” Huffing with displeasure, Taiyi ZhuShen continues, “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I based my methods upon the theory that if the human body absorbs enough Heavenly Energy, then it too could form a Spiritual Heart, or at least a quasi-Spiritual Heart. Thus, I set out to create a formula using Spiritual Plants and other ingredients to provide said Heavenly Energy, and have made some small progress in the field, though nothing exceedingly noteworthy.”

“So you’re saying that simply by lathering one’s body in a broth of Spiritual Plants, one can form a Spiritual Heart?” Lishan Suzhen makes no effort to hide her skepticism, though she immediately regrets her decision when she remembers the Abbot claimed Taiyi ZhuShen was the most well-versed in this subject.

Nodding in agreement, the Abbot says, “This is indeed possible, though Healer Geyan is not wrong to claim the process is… less efficient than ideal. That being said, to bring us back to the point at hand, the Spiritual Heart is usually the beast’s most potent weapon, fang, claw, beak, talon, or whatnot. With this being the case, some scholars theorized that humans are incapable of forming a Spiritual Heart because our greatest weapon is not tooth or nail, but rather our minds.”

“...Still haven’t answered my question.” Either of them really, why Spiritual Hearts are named so and how’d the Abbot guide Kukku into forming one.

“Patience is a virtue, Junior Brother.” Almost rolling his eyes in frustration, the Abbot mutters a small prayer before continuing, “You now understand the general idea behind the formation of a Spiritual Heart, correct? Then all that remains is to understand the concept behind them. Core Creation, Aura Condensation, Natal Palace Formation, and Domain Development, these are the milestones along the Martial Path, and it’s widely believed animals largely follow the same path, with only one difference.”

“Aura Condensation,” I supply, having pondered this matter many a time before. “Animals don’t have Auras and aren’t affected by them in the same way people are.” Pong Pong is the sole exception I’ve come across, but considering how powerful the little guy is, I don’t expect there are many others like him.

“Indeed. Why is this so?”

...How am I supposed to know? Seeing the confusion on my face, the Abbot smiles and pats my shoulder. “Once you can answer this question, then you will have the answer you seek. Much like the Martial Path, there are certain matters which one must discover on their own, lest the telling do more harm than good.”

… Or in other words, he doesn’t know either and just wasted all my time with this lecture. Great. Seeing the other Healers don’t understand anymore than I do, I sigh and switch topics with the grace of a panda while wishing the Abbot brought his pet panda with him. “Anyways, regarding the matter at hand, why don’t we take a step back and hold off on any public declarations regarding my health and whatnot.”

“Apologies, young Hero,” Taokang Geyang says, and to my surprise, it looks like he means it. “We here know better than most the lengths you’ve gone to in months past, and this Geyan wholeheartedly thanks you for your efforts, but to go against the Imperial Clan and declare you unfit for service is...” Sighing, he adds, “We all have our weaknesses.”

Meaning they have loved ones they’re worried about implicating if they support me. “I understand.” And I really do. “All I need is official documentation of my physical ailments and medical leave to circumvent the military ban on fire. If I keep eating hardtack and jerky, I’m pretty sure I’ll starve to death within the week.”

All of the Healers present voice their agreement, and in a matter of minutes, I’m headed back to camp in my rickshaw with a dozen sealed documents in hand, each one attesting to my need for fire to cook my food, brew my medicines, and heat my baths due to a whole slew of issues. The Disciplinary Corps might use it as proof of favoritism and skirting the rules, but I wasn’t joking about dying without it. I only suffered minor injuries in my first battle back, but even that much is enough to put me out of commission for the next two weeks without Healing, and I won’t survive the Healing unless I eat more. Hot food seems like such a small thing, but I think I lose more energy chewing hardtack than I get from eating it, so it’s kinda a necessity.

Still, the meeting showed me I still have friends in Sinuji and gave me plenty of food for thought, so I suppose I’ll tuck all this information away until it becomes relevant and go back to scouring Zhen Shi’s notes for answers.

Fun, fun, fun. At least no one in my retinue died yet, so there’s that, and now that Dastan’s heroics have won over Hondou Masahige, the next battle should be easier than yesterday’s, but still…

How long will we have to stay here before Jixing gives up? A month? Two? Hard to say, but what else can I do? Honestly, rebellion is looking real tempting right about now...

Author’s note: I already know a bird’s vocal organ is called a syrinx, but I didn’t feel like explaining it in story for readers who didn't know, so I did what I did instead.

Chapter Meme