All throughout the Serene Nightingale jovial voices sounded as the patrons busied themselves with drink and merry-making. Handsome servers brought mouth-watering dishes to tables while beautifully dressed maidens kept the various wine jugs filled to the brim. Adorning the establishment were the same brilliant scales that hung sparsely around Scale and Fin village but in greater number and size.

Many shined brilliant arrays of color across the hall whenever the light reflected upon them just right. Pressed onto the walls were small talismans that glowed with soft light from which flickering flames of varying colors danced around highlighting the surroundings. The lights danced intricate patterns mirroring dancers and revealing the alluring firm forms of the male servers as well as the beauty of the maidens going about their tasks.

Darkness pervaded those corners the light did not reach adding privacy and an air of mystery to the surroundings. Above on the second floor, many patrons could be seen leaning over the railings to enjoy the display of celebration and merriment. Others could be heard lounging in the open areas behind the rails or even in the private rooms hidden behind cloth doors.

All things considered, Fan Zhong was rather impressed with the place and although it wasn’t as cozy as the Soft Moonlight hall the spectacle on display was a sight to behold. From what he had heard, Scale and Fin Village was one of the Wang Clan’s main fishing villages. As such he had expected an industrious if small, town full of welcoming villagers.

It seemed however that the Wang Clan knew how to keep their people happy as the village itself was more richly decorated and adorned than Fan Zhong had thought a simple fishing port could be. Speaking with the locals on the way here, however, had revealed that tonight was a special celebration as normally even the Serene Nightingale Hall couldn’t afford to casually put on such a display. What had surprised him the most was that the celebration was due to the arrival of Sir Teng’s merchant ship.

According to the locals the Wei Clan had been levying high taxes on the fishing trade of the Wang Clan and many villages were struggling to meet the demand. To squeeze more money from them the Wei Clan had also imposed the same taxes on merchants visiting the fishing villages owned by the Wang Clan so that no one would trade with them. Since many of the merchants from the western parts of the valley, and the lands beyond, had to pass through Wei Clan Ports to access the villages this had almost entirely cut places like Scale and Fin Village off from certain supplies.

Fortunately, the village was one of the major sources of income for the Wang Clan and as such had sufficient infrastructure so they were only lacking in things like comfort items, utility talismans, and spices for food. This wasn’t the case for the smaller villages and many were struggling to keep their people from starvation at this point. Sir Teng was one of the few merchants from the territory of the Deng clan that came this far West.

Being someone from the territory of the other superpower in the valley gave the jolly old merchant confidence to trade without fear from the Wei and as such he had become one of Scale and Fin Village’s most important trading partners. Fan Zhong wasn’t surprised about the new taxations as he’d heard both Wang Qiand and his older brother mention them; however, what horrified him was the extent they’d been taken to. In his studies of history and the world Fan, Zhong had learned it wasn’t abnormal for the Deng and Wei to pressure the valley clans financially.

This was sadly the reality of life and politics that the leaders of the clans and their overlords played constantly posturing to gain an advantage. Normally, these issues were reserved to small skirmishes and negotiations though as all-out war wouldn’t be preferable for either side. The overlords would lose revenue as there would be no one to pay their taxes and the clans would suffer heavy casualties reducing their overall power. What kept both in check was the fact that no one had ever truly allied them all under a common cause.

The overlords were constantly wary of each other and afraid that one would gain a sizable advantage and finally seize total control over the region. For their part, the valley clans had to keep up the threat of uniting against the overlord clans while secretly worrying about their own power as well. Many clans had been forgotten in history as they became too weak and were destroyed by their fellow valley dwellers.

In this way, the three acted to balance each other out with the Wei and Deng refusing to ally due to mutual rivalry while the valley clans acted as a united front while infighting amongst themselves. Exceptions to this had occurred, such as the united army that had been gathered in Butont to assault the Deng clan a century ago. However, for the most part, the three remained in an eternal stalemate. Now it seemed that the Wei had either found an advantage over the valley, as well as their rival overlord clan, or their newly appointed clan leader was simply an insane warmongering psychopath.

Worry lingered in Fan Zhong’s mind over his family as well as his friends. All of them were entangled in the web of valley politics whether they wanted to be or not and seeing the state of things firsthand left no doubt that a true war was coming soon. After all the bloodshed how many of them would still live, how many of his loved ones could weather such a storm?

Shaking his head, Fan Zhong refocused on the present and reminded himself of why he was here. It was to get stronger, to forge a path ahead that could allow him to not only be there when that storm came but make a difference. To do that he would have to live up to the ideal of a Fan Clan leader and prove himself.

Part of that would start today, he would put aside his childish concerns and come to some sort of understanding with Zi Bao. In this way, the completion of his mission was almost assured and his path would be one step closer to that goal. Taking a deep breath he breathed in the sweet, pleasant, smell of the wine in his bowl before downing the remaining contents.

The alcohol had a pleasant floral note while being strong and sweet at the same time. Thinking back he was almost certain that before ingesting Sir Teng’s ‘spirit wine’ the strength of this brew would have induced a coughing fit similar in strength to the one Zi bao was currently having. After drinking the merchant's fiery concoction, however, most alcohols hadn’t even been able to cause him to even cough lightly.

Thinking about it, Fan Zhong also felt like his tolerance had also gone up slightly after the incident. Shrugging off the errant thought he focused back on his companion who had finally recovered.

“Good, isn’t Brother bao? Come let me pour you another bowl” Fan Zhong said enthusiastically, trying to inject all the charm and brotherhood he could muster into the words.

“You… Alright, it is quite good. I suppose a lazy bastard like you has had plenty of time to sit on lavish couches and get used to such strong things” Zi Bao replied dryly as he slouched forward in his chair and eyed his newly filled bowl with some suspicion.

“Well they don’t serve stuff like this in the Soft Moonlight Hall, I can assure you that Brother Bao. Honestly, the spectacle here is quite interesting to see, I know it’s a tradition that Little Green Bamboo is kept more humble aesthetically but it is quite pleasing to have a sight like this now and then” Fan Zhong replied while sitting back to drink from his now filled bowl of wine eyes idly tracing the path of a blurring light that had revealed the silhouetted figure of a particularly alluring ‘employee’ of the establishment.

“I’m sure you’re father can arrange for all the pretty lights and virgin maidens your heart desires Young Master Zhong” Zi Bao spat the last words with vitriol, a pained look crossing his face as he forced himself to down his next bowl of wine in a single drink.

“Pace yourself, Brother Bao, the night is young and there's plenty of wine. On a different note, I spoke with Senior Su Fen a few days ago and he was telling me that your shifting palm techniques have almost reached the expert level of attainment. Truly, a feat to wonder at Brother Bao, perhaps you’d be willing to give me some points? It's embarrassing to admit but, I find my own progress with the technique lacking. Perhaps that simple impatience on my part though.” Fan Zhong pretended to ignore the insult and chose to change the subject by complimenting Zi Bao on his martial arts.

“Why don’t you just have your heaven-defying brother teach you? What could this simple branch warrior clan heir teach the mighty Young master Zhong that he couldn’t learn from someone better?” Zi Bao shot back, adamant to keep his animosity bared towards Fan Zhong.

“Brother Bao, you wound me deeply. Aren’t we both clan warriors that seek to shelter those who would come to harm? To uphold the honor and righteousness of our ancestors so we can one day meet them with our heads held high? Warriors are all brothers, they help each other through life and death. Is it so strange to ask for pointers from you, someone who is more skilled than me?” Fan Zhong asked in the tone of someone who had been wronged.

“BULLSHIT,” Zi Bao shouted after downing the bowl of win Fan Zhong had just filled from him, several heads turned to look at him from the outburst but the young warrior seemed to not notice the attention, “you think you're worthy of being my brother with all your sweet words. I bet every day it’s like this for you huh? People tell you ‘Oh young master you’re amazing’ and ‘Well done young master you're truly talented’. Meanwhile, you galavant around and play music while dancing with the village girls. Do you understand what the rest of us were doing while YOU. FUCKED. AROUND?”

At this point, many of the patrons around them had either vacated their tables or were openly staring at Zi Bao. Paying no heed to this the young man picked up their wine jug and took a long drag before continuing his long, now slurring, tirade.

“WHILE YOU DRANK, the rest of us branch warrior brats ran until our legs gave out. WHILE YOU PLAYED MUSIC, seniors drove blow after blow into me until the void gate stance was beaten into my very bones. WHILE YOU DREW, every single branch warrior from the moment he could hold a staff spent blood sweat, and tears fighting for every inch of progress.” Zi Bao was in a rage now, his words dripping with venom and anger “Now here you are, somehow almost my equal in skill after only a year of training. DOES THAT DRAW ENOUGH OF A PICTURE FOR YOU ‘BROTHER ZHONG’?!?!”

These last words seemed to carry all the energy the young warrior could muster and afterward he seemed to deflate, slumping back in his chair to stare half-lidded eyes at Fan Zhong. Several of the hall staff came over with a few guards in tow but Fan Zhong quickly assured them that his companion had just been enjoying the wine too much and all was well. Within a few moments, the commotion had died down. The two were left staring at each other in silence as the sound of the crowded partying in the hall washed over them. Fan Zhong filled both of their bowls slowly as if he was afraid the air itself would break like brittle glass under his movements.

“Do you know what being a warrior branch clan means Brother Zhong?” Zi Bao suddenly said in a low voice filled with sadness.

“I… I don’t Brother Bao” Fan Zhong replied slowly after piecing together what the young man had said, at this point, he was obviously very drunk as his speech was slurring quite a bit.

“To be a branch warrior clan means to submit to another clan’s will. Becoming a servant clan that is always underneath another. No Fan clan warrior ever pushed me to train so hard, Brother Zhong, it was my own kinsmen that did that. Many a branch warrior clan has disappeared from history, being absorbed by those they sought refuge with after becoming too weak to even maintain their status as a vassal. Some simply fall apart when their main clan makes careless choices. Take those miserable dogs who attacked you and Wang Qiang. At the time, I was stationed with the village guard to gain enough experience to be allowed to take on missions. When the one your honorable mother brought back alive was escorted into town I saw the man, he had a crest tattooed on the back of his neck. That crest is the mark the descendants of the branch warrior clans of the Jie give to their children.”

Zi Bao said, pausing to take a drink from his bowl.

“This is done to ensure their offspring never leave their bandit clans and can’t rejoin society. You see the branch clans of the Jie were exiled after the failure of the Butont rebellion, with the reaper coming to visit everyone associated with the Jie no one wanted to associate with their former branch clans. As such these miserable warriors who were once respected in every village of the valley found themselves unable to even buy food for themselves as they were barred from going into villages and cities. So they took to banditry, however, descendants were constantly running away and taking on fake names to come back to society which in turn weakened them. It to the point they lacked the manpower to commit the robberies that supported their meager existence. This is when they started branding their children so that they would never forget where they came from and have to live out their lives in the mountains scrounging out the same pitiful life as their ancestors. Nowadays, you rarely see them, usually, it’s only men like that one who were convinced by some swindler. They tell the bandits tales of grandeur and tell them they can ‘take revenge against the valley clans for wronging them’ but they're all the same, con men who need thugs to do their bidding. Alas, the bandits always accept, as they say ‘when one is trapped in the abyss even the smallest pinprick of light is as blinding as the sun even if it's just an illusion.”

“War leaves many without a place to call home and even more in mourning. I cannot say I understand how you Brother Bao as the world is still teaching many of the lessons that you’ve perhaps already learned. In this, I can only tell you that my heart goes out for the hardships you’ve endured and give apologies for what has been done in the past. We live in the present and it’s only in the present that we can take each step forward to better understanding each other and the world.” Fan Zhong replied, trying to wrap his mind around what Zi Bao had told him.

On one hand, many of these things seemed self-evident and were logical extensions of many things he was coming to learn about the world. However, having it laid out in front of him was certainly enlightening and also terrifying. It seemed that he could only keep walking his own path forward adjusting his view of the world as he learned more.

“I’m not looking for your sympathy Brother Zhong, although I suppose it’s appreciated. This goes further though, the Jie branch clans weren’t the only ones to suffer from the Butont Alliance's failure. Before that the Zi clan was a respected warrior group that could hold its head high, we were independent and provided mercenary as well as bodyguard services similar to the Fan Clan. Although the Zi weren’t the best, it was honest work most of the time. That was when the Jie approached the clan leader, my grandfather. He spoke of expanding the Zi clan and giving us lands and riches beyond the clan's wildest dreams, like fools we were blinded by greed and accepted. So it went, that the majority of the senior warriors, elders of the Zi Clan, and even the clan leader committed to being part of the allied army assaulting the Deng. In doing so they found their graves, leaving the clan with no elders and the ten-year-old heir to the clan leader, my father, without guidance.”

Zi Bao spoke these words with his eyes shut and his head was thrown back as if he was reliving the horrific events of the past inside his mind.

“Everyone banded together and tried desperately to keep the clan’s small territory. However, every passing month saw more and more of it snapped up by rivals or those who refused to follow the son of someone who had caused such ruin to the clan. During this time the Zi weren’t the only ones who committed large amounts of their forces to the allied army, and with that, my father saw the decline and slaughter of dozens of these smaller mercenary clans. Among those left, the Fan clan stood out as upright and honest, your father was only fifteen years old at the time but was a prodigy who had already entered the master realm. Unlike everyone else who acted as vultures, eager to feast on the corpses of the dying clans, the Fan Clan continued operating as the premier bodyguard clan. They even stopped offering mercenary services to not get involved in the pillaging. Seeing this the remaining Zi clan warriors gathered all their things and abandoned our ancestral ground, throwing themselves at the feet of the Fan clan offering to become a branch warrior clan.”

Pausing Zi Bao took a deep breath, seeming to have to center himself to continue.

“My father, as you might know, isn't talented. In fact, our Zi blood seems to not be as blessed by the heavens as your Fan clan line is. However, during these trying times, he grew up fast and came to realize that in the world of martial arts only strength matters. All of those clans died because they became too weak and he was determined to never let that happen to the Zi. From the moment I could walk he drilled into me the strength to ensure the survival of the clan, if I fail then the clan goes with me. Never once has my speed been enough, my skill great enough, my technique graceful enough to please him. I trained tirelessly, and stained the training yard crimson with the blood spilled from my hands being ground raw. Finally when I’d achieved third-grade proficiency my father simply nodded and told me my results were ‘barely adequate’”

Finally, the anger and pain subsided from Zi Bao’s face and he seemed to relax slightly.

“So there's my life story, you rich bas…bast… bastard. I hope you paid a lot for this shitty win… wine… did I drink enough to empty yo… your deep…” Whatever he was going to say trailed off as the young warrior’s head slowly slid to the side and he was fast asleep.

Fan Zhong looked at him in contemplation for a good hour simply sipping his wine. In fact, he had money left and had intended to treat Zi Bao to the more nocturnal services places like this offered, thinking it would build goodwill between them. However now, he felt a stoic sense of kinship between them.

It felt somehow wrong to mix the outpouring his fellow warrior had given him with extra partying and pleasure. Sighing, he collected himself before finishing off the wine jug, thanking the server who had been keeping it full, and finally pulling the sleeping Zi Bao up onto his shoulders. With a grunt of effort, he started the long walk to their rooms at the Swift Turtle Inn.

Surprisingly the rest of the week flew by in a rather dull manner with the only notable exception being that Zi Bao would now begrudgingly make small talk with him. Progress was slow but over many days it got to the point where they would have a decent time conversing during the hour their guard shift overlapped. The trade talks between the village officials and Sir Teng were dreadfully dull to Fan Zhong and as such he usually passed the time by thinking of songs and melodies he could try on his lute.

For the rest of the time, he was either training, reading the texts on formations, practicing simple spell runes, or playing with little white in the forest and hills around the village. It turned out that the villagers weren’t exaggerating when they said the night of their arrival was an event that pulled out all the stops as the rest of the village was, although quaint and nice-looking, rather bland after that night. Even the Serene Nightingale, although still beautiful and full of patrons, was far less flashy and alluring in the following days.

With their business wrapped up in Scale and Fin Village, the group once again boarded the ship and traveled for another week before reaching Peaceful Impasse Village. This village was a much smaller one that traded with both flowing arrow city and the Wang clan boats. It was doing well as the village wasn’t officially affiliated with the Wang clan and was too close to Deng clan territory for the Wei tax collectors to harass them.

After spending a week here the group prepared to depart however during the stay Sir Teng had purchased a large load of mortal grade 15% Fire Iron natural treasure ore at a great price. The load was a whopping 1500kg of the stuff and unfortunately, the ship didn’t have room for it. Thinking on the spot Sir Teng purchased two hauling wagons and six pack horses from the village.

After this, he chose five volunteers from the ship and retrieved some camping supplies they normally used when the ship had to anchor and the crew made inland voyages. Usually, this was to trade in places that were close to shore but had no docks or were one to two days travel inland. Then the plan was laid out, the ship would be commanded by the helmsman, Sir Teng’s second in command, and depart without them. Sir Teng, along with five volunteers and the Fan clan bodyguards would take the Fire Iron ore by land to Flowing Arrow city. At this point, the distance left through land or river travel was approximately the same. Around two weeks, and as such they should all arrive in the city around the same time.

The morning that heralded the beginning of a new week came and with it, the ship was gone in short order. Afterward, the land-bound crew gathered their gear and set off for Flowing Arrow City.