Dressed and ready to start her day, Yan stopped at her beloved husbands cot to bid him a silent farewell and wondered how she ever got along without him.
The mornings were long and lonely these last two weeks after Rain slipped into yet another coma, but nowhere near as lonely as she suspected the days ahead would be. There was a ti when she valued her independence, took pride in it even, but after wedding her cherished fool and experiencing the highs of blissful marital life, she no longer knew what to do with herself in his absence. Mornings were usually their ti together, because in those scant few hours before Mila and Lin-Lin were ready to wake, Yan had Rain all to herself, a luxury she feared she would not have for much longer once he collected his final two wives. She didnt begrudge him for his lascivious ways, but she did so earnestly wish she could spend more ti with him each day, though even if the days were twice as long and she his only wife, she would still yearn for more ti to spend at his side. To see his smile, hear his voice, sll his scent, and feel his touch, this was all she wanted from the mont she opened her eyes in the morning until she laid her head down to rest at night.
Now, it wasnt just the matter of his divided attentions keeping her from her husbands side, for Yan also had to contend with the fact that he might not ever wake at all. Initially, everyone believed he would soon wake once he recovered from overexerting himself in an incredible feat of Healing in Huang Hai, but after twenty days spent without so much as stirring a finger, even Taduk and Lin-Lin were beginning to worry about his chances of recovery. So mornings, Yan would wake and find him so still and lifeless that she feared hed passed away in the night, with only the heat of his body and the feel of his breath against her hand to reassure her that she still had a husband yet. This wasnt the first ti hed fallen comatose and Yan prayed it would not be the last, but no matter how many tis she went through this, she knew she would never get used to it. The uncertainty was the worst of it, for after the inexplicable events of that fateful night, Rain only woke briefly to ask Lin-Lin about his fathers health before falling back asleep soon after, without so much as a peep from him ever since.
According to Akanai and Taduk, they suspected Rain had sohow drawn upon the raw Energy of the Heavens to Heal his father, a feat which apparently overtaxed his still-mortal body, mind, and soul. The Mother demanded too much from him, and worse, he demanded much from himself, for when Yan heard what had transpired, she knew Rain wouldve blad himself for his fathers injuries, even more so than the Wraith who wielded the crossbow. A foolish way to go about things, but such was his pride, believing himself so capable that nothing could ever go wrong without it sohow being his fault. Easy to imagine what went through his mind when he saw his father take a poisoned bolt through the heart, especially if the bolt was ant for him, but Rain once again managed to create yet another miracle and save his father from certain death.
There was so debate on the topic that the family had yet to really delve into, for it bordered on a subject few cared to contemplate in depth. Baatar was very forthcoming regarding the entire experience, detailing the events with such clarity that Yan could envision it happening before her eyes as if she had been there herself. The two of them had been talking alone, father and son, with the forr consoling the latter after all the atrocities theyd witnessed that night. The horrifically posed scene in LuZhuo and the senseless slaughter of Huang Hai made for a rough opening to a war that many believed would stretch on for many months or years to co, and Rain would have taken it hard. There was no doubt in Yans mind that his judgnt had been clouded by anger and hatred, for even after so many years, he had yet to learn not to hate the Enemy. Yan fought because the fighting needed to be done, but Rain took the Enemys actions too personally, as if the Defiled killed and tortured to spite him rather than because theyd lost themselves to madness brought on by the Fathers foul lies.
For this reason alone, Yan feared the worst for her foolish husband, because while others wanted to believe Rain drew upon the power of love to nd his dying fathers wounds, she was not so convinced. There was an equally good chance that it was hatred and despair which drove him to such heights, hatred not just for the Enemy, but also for the Mother Above who dared to try and take Rains precious family away from him, a possibility no one wanted to voice out loud. Hiding from the truth wouldnt change a thing though, so which was it then? Did Rain summon the Energies of Creation to nd his fathers heart, or did he draw upon the powers of Destruction to reject death and drag Baatars soul back from the Mothers warm embrace? There were no words for such a miracle, for even the dical Saint Taduk did not dare claim himself capable of Healing death, and yet Yans sweet, sentintal husband might well have done just that.
Miracles aside, having taken four harbours in quick succession ant Rain already accomplished more in a single night than what his detractors claid was even possible, for they saw no way in which the Empire could go on the offensive against the nurically superior Defiled forces. This was because they had yet to understand the true value of Rains cannons, the great equalizers as he sotis called them, and Yan could only agree. Though romanticized by dramas, stories, poems, and ballads, the cold, hard truth of the matter was that war was rely a ga of numbers, one in which the winner was almost always the side that killed more combatants than they lost. In the struggle against the Enemy however, every Imperial soldier was worth ten Defiled, or put another way, for each soldier lost, the Imperial army had to kill ten Defiled just to even the odds. Formidable as Peak Experts might be, they were still human yet, and even if the Enemy were willing to line up and present their necks for chopping, swinging a weapon a thousand tis through flesh and bone was still a draining and demanding task. Add in the fact that the Enemy was trying to kill you as you tried to kill them, and trading blows in close combat for a single minute could tire you out more than hours of back-breaking labour. It wasnt just physical fitness that limited a Warriors effectiveness on the battlefield, but also their morale and ntal fortitude both. This was why the most important skill for a commander was the ability to relieve the pressure on his or her troops, whether it be through clever rotation of Warriors to keep them all relatively fresh, or by stepping up to shoulder the bulk of the pressure to allow allied Warriors more room to breathe.
Brigadier Hongji was the first type of commander and Grandpa the second, while Yan considered herself a good balance of the two. Juggling troops in combat was no easy feat, but with Sutah around to help share the burden, she did not think it arrogant to claim that she was a capable enough commander who never asked for more than what her soldiers could provide. Then, once things heated up up, she also had the ability to ease the pressure on her troops thanks to her ricocheting shield and the Forest Clearing Gale, the skill she recently developed by combining the properties of Grandpas Wind Blades with the principles of Mitsue Juichis Mountain Collapsing Stomp. This was an attack which summoned a visible twisting gale of wind, one which spit out hundreds of finger-length Honed Wind Blades as it hurtled through the Enemy ranks, a single move that could potentially take dozens, if not hundreds of lives, and it marked her as a Warrior to be wary of upon the field of battle. Most Warriors of note excelled as duellists, formidable opponents such as Kyung, Song, Mila, and Dain, but Yan was a rare exception to this rule, as her strengths lay not in single combat, but in one against many. One Warrior killing dozens, or even hundreds of Defiled was no small feat, even if said Defiled were bottom of the barrel grunts who barely knew which end of the spear to attack with, for there were always more Defiled than there were Imperials, yet Yan was a young Talent capable of killing hundreds, perhaps even thousands over the course of a single battle, provided she had Chi and ti to recover. While she would die in an instant if caught out on the battlefield by any of the aforentioned duellists, Yan could easily outclass them in terms of sheer volu of kills over the course of a battle, which in most cases was a statistic which weighed heavier than any other.
The cold hard truth of the matter was that there were few Warriors able to match Yan when it ca to wholesale slaughter. Such was the way of the Martial Dao, one which emphasized personal strength rather than widespread destructive capability, and in so ways, one could say Yan had set forth upon a dead-end track. The Forest Clearing Gale was a formidable attack, but who was to say it would improve in ti? As a young Talent not yet twenty five, her accomplishnts were impressive to say the least, but could the sa be said three or four decades from now? Killing chaff was hard and necessary work, but she could not focus too much on this one aspect of her Martial Path, for such focus would co at the expense of other vital areas. The last thing she wanted was to beco a narrow specialist, a Warrior who could do one thing very well yet fell short in all other areas. Not the worst fate to suffer, but as Du Min Gyus Terminal Disciple, Yan had a mountain of expectations heaped onto her shoulders, the heaviest of which ca from herself and her desire to do her beloved grandfathers legacy due justice.
Yet for all this talk of her formidable talents, Rains Runic Cannons now enabled any random Peak Expert to match Yans level of carnage with only a bare modicum of instruction. Place the cannonball into the dragons mouth, point it at your target, insert Chi, and watch the Defiled die in droves. A four step process to match what Yan achieved through countless hours of blood, sweat, and tears, as well as no small amount of luck and guidance. As if that wasnt enough, the Runic Cannons even used less Chi to accomplish more damage, so long as you picked clumped targets to aim at and didnt waste any shots killing one or two stragglers at a ti. Infuriating wasnt nearly enough to describe it, though Yan consoled herself with the fact that at least she didnt have to lug around a weighty tal tube and a sack of equally cumberso ammunition. With eight cannons alternating fire on the battlefield, massed armies had beco sothing of a liability for the Enemy hordes. The Uniter didnt dare to et Rains forces in the field anymore, and instead was running with his tail between his legs while adopting hit and run thods, ones which the Imperials ironically had used against the Defiled prior to the reveal of the destructive Runic Cannons. A Peak Expert with a Cannon was worth thousands of Defiled Warriors, and once his or her Chi was spent, all they needed to do was hand the Cannon over to another fresh expert so they could begin the slaughter anew.
The face of war was ever-changing now that Rain was firmly in control, and Yan found it all so very exhilarating and terrifying at the sa ti. Exhilarating because her beloved husband had brought this change about, and more to the point, had even anticipated and expected as much, but terrifying because now they no longer had his unique perspective to draw on, and Yan was not sure what would co next.
Falling to her knees beside his cot, she rest her chin on his pillow and ran her fingers through his hair before caressing his silken cheek, marvelling at the soft and supple sensation of his unblemished skin against hers. It took an effort of will to fight the urge to strip down and crawl into bed with him, but even Lin-Lin and Mila had accepted sleeping apart from him for fear of causing complications to his health. Both were fast asleep in the separate cots laid out right next to Rains, consigning Yan to sleep all by her loneso without their husband at her side. She didnt hold it against them, as theyd offered to take turns, but Yan refused because the simple truth was that she was better suited to sleeping alone than either of her sister wives. Lin-Lin was all but inconsolable without Rain to cheer her up, always glued to his side with her wide eyed stare whether awake or asleep, and Mila herself fared only a little better. They were even less equipped to deal with this strife than Yan herself, and she loved them both as much as she loved Rain himself, so she stayed strong and contented herself with these quiet morning monts so that they would suffer just that much less.
The three of them presented a sweet and sentintal image, laid out alongside one another in so chaste a fashion, each confined to their own cots save for a single hand each from Lin-Lin and Mila that reached over to lightly touch Rains. As pure and chaste as it all might seem, Yan knew there was good reason for their restraint, because while lying still for so many days on end might seem harmless, the human body was not ant to lie fallow for so long. If Mila or Lin-Lin were to fall asleep pressed up against him, there was a chance their weight could cut off circulation to Rains extremities and cause his fingers and toes to rot whilst still attached, though Yan already visually confird this was not the case today. This was a ritual every morning now, for she wasnt running her fingers through his hair simply because she enjoyed how it felt, but also because she was checking for sores which might have ford overnight. His flawless skin showed that his Core was still firmly intact, a matter of only minor concern considering hed reforged all three of his Spiritual Weapons which were damaged during that fateful night, and soon enough, Yan finished confirming that her husband was still in good health, save for the minor fact that he just refused to wake.
How much longer will you sleep, dear husband of mine? Yan Sent, jokingly using the sa sickly sweet and almost mocking tone Jing Fei used when speaking to her husband Zian. Rain loved the man like a brother, but hed never gotten over his fear and concern for Jing Fei, even though it was clear to anyone with eyes that she loved her husband with all her heart. Your beloved wives grow lonely without you to keep them company.
The lack of an answer caused her more pain than she would ever care to admit, his silence a damning testimony to his continued absence. Anger flared as her resentnt bubbled to the surface, bitter that he would do this to her so many tis and cause her so much heartache. For a brief mont, she wondered if life would be easier if she just walked away, left him to Lin-Lin and Mila both and resud the life of freedom and adventure in Central she gave up to marry him, a thought so ridiculous she could only scoff. The poisoned whispers of their insidious foe, aiming to drown her in despair? Or rely a flight of fancy in a mont of weakness, an idle thought she would never follow through on? Regardless of the source of her inner turmoil, the solution was the sa, to embrace the pain and hope for the best because the first was proof of her love for him, and the second her only path forward through the dark tis ahead.
A burst of warm and loving Aura enveloped Yans entire being, and for a brief, beautiful mont, she thought Rain had finally awakened again, but then she spotted Pong Pongs yellow-patterned green shell erge from his den under Rains pillow. Letting loose with an adorably tiny squeak of a yawn, the Divine Turtle slowly blinked as he trundled over to nuzzle her fingers resting atop Rains head, his Aura continuing to emanate fond reassurances that even Taduk could not make. Stirring at the sound of her little friend waking, Ping Ping blinked sleepily from her place above Lin-Lin, having taken over an entire pillow for herself so she could rest her head against his cheek while they slept. Wiggling her hindquarters and shaking her tail, she joined Pong Pong in nuzzling Yans hand in hopes of eliciting a scritch or two, and she could only acquiesce to their sweet demands.
Oddly enough, neither turtle seed all too concerned with Rains comatose state aside from the odd glance to see if he was awake, as if this deep sleep was only to be expected from ti to ti. Part of Yan hoped it was because they knew sothing she didnt, but the more pragmatic part of her knew it was more likely because turtles like Ping Ping tended to hibernate through the cold months of winter, and she assud it was the sa for Pong Pong. No doubt they both believed this was the case with Rain and were confused as to why everyone else was so concerned for his health, but Yan still appreciated their efforts.
Morning you two, she whispered, stroking Pong Pongs head with her thumb the sa way shed seen Rain do a thousand tis, and the little turtle leaned into the gesture with a sense of joy and contentnt that Yan wholeheartedly envied. Unable to contain her emotions any longer, her shoulders shook as she silently sobbed for no reason other than to express her sorrow and be rid of this burden, praying the turtles confidence stemd from sothing real, like their visits to Rains Natal Palace rather than the misconception she believed it to be. Alas, hope and faith were difficult to co by these days. The Enemy was willing to go to such great lengths to deny the Empire a victory, and she knew that this was a tactic that was most effective against Rain, for he was a kind and caring man who could not bring himself to understand the Enemys lacking humanity. Thats why their actions enraged him so, because unlike most, he did not see the Defiled as irredeemable monsters. No, he believed that there was still a shred of humanity buried deep within each and every single one of them, for he had experienced Defilent firsthand and, despite all his talk of hatred and slaughter, yearned to save the Defiled from themselves.
Which only made their complicity in their cris that much worse. Easier to believe them evil monsters than to see them for their true selves, simple n and won whod succumbed to the darkness inherent to the hearts of humankind. Oh her sweet, simple, fool of a husband, whose heart ached for all the people of the world and even empathized with the Enemy who so desperately wanted him dead, a stance she did not dare even entertain for fear of losing her will to fight.
A weighty presence pressed itself into Yans belly and she almost yelped in surprise until she rembered where she was. Looking down through tear-filled eyes, she found sweet Aurie peering up at her in innocent concern from his place under the cot, his sad, mournful expression conveying almost as much as Pong Pongs Aura. The wildcat was sad not just because she was crying, but also because hed been consigned to sleeping on the cold floor rather than sprawled out over Rains legs as the sweet cat preferred. A gross injustice as far as he was concerned, and he ca out to commiserate over shared hardships, as if the pampered wildcat knew what true hardship really was. It was so adorably ridiculous Yan could not help but giggle, which Aurie took as a sign to sit up and nuzzle her cheek, his chest rumbling in delight as she hugged him tight. Having had his fill of nuzzles, he turned his attention to Rain, and under her watchful gaze, the wildcat laid his chin down atop Rains chest and closed his eyes in muted delight, taking a short second to bask in his favourite persons presence before heading over to the door where he waited to be let out.
This sort of greeting was a new behaviour, sothing many of the animals had picked up of late, to share a quiet mont with Rain each and every day. Though Yan had not seen it for herself, Mama Bun did sothing similar after she woke, placing her nose right up against Rains to stare into his eyes for long seconds just like she did the last ti he was comatose. It always ended the sa way, with the sweet, spoiled rabbit giving a disgruntled huff and reluctant flurry of kisses as if to say she was displeased by his lack of reaction but still loved him all the sa. The bears were even less delicate about it, using their chins to smother Rains face, but they always ca away gurgling in contentnt as if having had played so great joke. Much like the turtles, none of the animals seed all too concerned about Rains comatose state, which was a far cry from how they behaved the last ti he fell unconscious and unresponsive, with gloom and frustration aplenty. Yet another sign that perhaps matters were not as dire as they seed, but even this was not enough to ease Yans groundless and irrational apprehensions. They were still animals after all, and Pong Pong aside, hardly the most clever examples of their breeds, though Yan loved them all the sa.
The important takeaway from all this was that Ping Ping, Pong Pong, and Mama Bun were all still unable to visit Rains Natal Palace, as evidenced by Mama Buns reaction every morning and her continued insistence on sleeping at Rains side, snuggled up atop his chest and snoring fitfully away in her sleep. Were she able to visit, she would not be so disgruntled and disappointed each morning, and would instead remain curled up in his embrace until it ca ti for lunch. Or at least thats what Lin-Lin believed, and Yan had nothing on hand to refute her. This ant there was nothing to do except wait and hope for the best, which was easier said than done, for Yan missed him dearly and yearned to see him smile again.
Another warm burst of Aura emanated from little Pong Pong, one so genuine and heartfelt Yan wondered if the Divine turtle could read her emotions the sa way she read Auries. It was difficult to tell how much Pong Pong actually understood, for there were monts like this when he seed so aware and sagacious, and other tis when he behaved no differently from any other animal, such as when it ca ti to eat. Hopping onto Yans proffered hand, he accepted a lift over to the still sleeping Rakshasa even though he could have made the journey across the yurt in a single bound. Vigilant as ever, the massive tiger slowly ca to his feet as she approached, and Yan fought the urge to wrap her arms around his neck and hug him, a beautiful and majestic creature who inspired awe even when stretching and yawning. Grumbling as if gravely aggrieved, he lowered his head for a pat which Yan dared not refuse him, rubbing his ears good and well until he was wholly satisfied and chuffing in glee. anwhile, Pong Pong situated himself in between Rakshasas ears, nestled so deeply in the tigers thick, voluminous fur he could stop Concealing and no one would be the wiser.
Opening the door to let the animals out, Yan allowed herself one more glance at her sleeping husband before finally getting on about her business. Ready and waiting outside was none other than Kyung, and while his stony expression gave nothing away, Yan knew he saw more than he let on. Even without accounting for his phenonal hearing, he only needed one look at her puffy, reddened eyes to know shed been crying, and his arm twitched ever so slightly as he considered offering her a pat on the shoulder or maybe even a hug, only to imdiately quash the notion. The fact that he even contemplated a show of affection ant the world to her however, because her adopted brother was not a man used to showing any emotion whatsoever, not even anger or happiness. A coping chanism turned ingrained habit, but Yan was slowly working with Grandpa to chip away at Kyungs defences.
Even though he didnt take the initiative to hug her, she still appreciated the sentint, as well as the reminder that he only resembled a giant stone pillar on the surface, tall, cold, and unyielding. Thanks, big brother, she said, and the tension eased ever so slightly from his shoulders as he took in her smile, relieved that she was not about to burst into tears once again, though he started and stiffened in awkward hesitation when she threw her arms around him for a surprise embrace. Nothing to worry about. Ill be fine. Just as soon as Rain was awake again. Until then, she would fret and endure, because there was nothing else she could do. Hows Grandpa?
Doing well. Glancing in the direction of his yurt, Kyungs lips turned upwards ever so slightly in the barest hint of a smile. ditating on the Dao and parsing through new notes he read yesterday. It has been a long ti since Ive seen him so lively.
Thats good to hear. Grandpa was a man who thrived on warfare, one who never stopped dreaming of his triumphant return to the battlefield, and now that hed succeeded, hed beco a man changed. His obsession with the Dao was both frightening and inspiring to behold, especially these last few weeks in the wake of the Central Citadel siege, weeks he spent ruminating in secret over what he called, a fools errand, one set upon him by Rain, but he would not say what until he knew how to explain the concept without confusing her to no end. All Yan knew was that it had sothing to do with his Blessing of Air and the way he sotis gathered wind into the palm of his hand to make a strange popping sound, after which hed mutter to himself about control, pressure, containnt, and other such nonsense before starting all over again.
Feeling the need to let off so steam after breakfast, she set off towards the training grounds and asked, Feeling up for a spar? After a second passed without answer, Yan turned back to Kyung with a single raised eyebrow, only to find him staring at his feet in what could only be described as shy embarrassnt. Ah. Shes there, is she? She being Dain, who Kyung was head over heels in love with, yet had been too stubborn and unyielding to give into his passions before Aunty Jeong beca aware of her eldest daughters amorous intentions and sealed off any prospects of cooking the rice. Perhaps things wouldve turned out differently if Kyung struck while the iron was hot, but not all n were as insatiable as Rain, a fact Yan had only recently discovered. Forget about once every night, it turned out most couples only made love two or three tis a week, and even less for those whod been married for years. In contrast, ever since his wedding and honeymoon with Lin-Lin, Rain spent each and every single night in the embrace of his wives and woke up hungry for more the next morning, with no sign of slowing down just yet.
Not that Yan was complaining of course, for she enjoyed their bedroom gas almost as much as he did, and the sa could be said of Mila and Lin-Lin. Whats more, Yan was eager to see what sort of expressions Luo-Luo and Li-Li would make once Rain sank his teeth into the both of them. Two beautiful won, one elegant and dignified, the other cold and aloof, it would be oh so fascinating to watch Rain peel back their facades to reveal the form of their animistic passions hidden underneath. Before marrying him, Yan wouldve never in her life imagined Mila could be so docile and submissive or Lin-Lin so primal and assertive, so it would be interesting to see if Li-Li and Luo-Luo would similarly exceed expectations.
Putting aside her grievances at having her own needs go unt, Yan focused on her brothers happiness instead. A tricky thing, stealing away a bride from the Ryo family household, and truth be told, she wasnt entirely comfortable with the idea now that Aunty Jeong sided with Shuai Jiao over Rain. Not because Yan held a grudge, but because she was still unsure why the kind and level-headed woman would do such a thing, for she was a staunch proponent of loyalty and integrity. Her husband and children were a domineering bunch, but they never took advantage of the helpless and stuck to their righteous principles no matter the cost. Partially because Shuai Jiao set the standard of the honest and virtuous politician, but also because the Ryos were generally good people who loved their province and country dearly, a love that extended to their countryn regardless of station or standing.
So why did Aunty Jeong choose Shuai Jiao over Rain after he did so much to help them without asking? There had to be a good reason for her disloyal actions, and until Yan knew why, she felt it better to keep the Ryos at arms length. They were all here in ng Sha, the pri representatives of Centrals contribution to retaking the West, but a polite nod in passing was about all the interaction she had with them. As for Kyung, it seed like hed settled on avoiding Dain at all costs, because despite being able to stare death in the eyes without flinching, the thought of confessing his feelings for Dain had left him unmanned and quivering in his boots.
Oh they would make such an adorable couple, Dain and Kyung both, bold and imperious Warriors yet unable to sit down and have a genuine conversation about their own feelings. Theirs would be a union fraught with frustration and misunderstanding, but so long as they had love enough, then nothing else mattered.
Unfortunately, Kyung was not yet ready to face Dain, and no good would co from forcing him. Alright, Yan conceded, and it was amusing to see him deflate with relief. Well spar this afternoon instead. Care to accompany on a surprise inspection then? Ive been through the camp enough tis to correct most of my soldiers, but I could use a second set of eyes to maybe catch what Ive missed.
Truth be told, Kyung knew all the ins and outs of military command, and only lacked the ambition to strike out on his own. Combined with his stubborn refusal to shatter his Core and be freed of his Oaths until after the war was over and done with, Kyung seed adamant to remain an obscure guard and hidden Expert, despite having the Martial skill and tactical acun to beco a Colonel at the very least, if not a Brigadier to match the man hed trained alongside and rivalled, the departed Cho Jin Kai.
With Kyung, Aurie, Rakshasa, and both Divine Turtles in tow, Yan set out for her retinues barracks, where she technically should have stayed overnight considering she was their imdiate commanding officer, but Sutah had the kids well in hand and knew what to do if the Defiled attacked unexpectedly. He pretty much ran the retinue single-handedly these days, with Yan being little more than a figurehead in the downti, which suited her fine since she still commanded when battle was truly at hand. It wasnt out of the ordinary for Officers to have soone else handle the day to day drudgery of command, as even Nian Zu didnt personally supervise his Fad Fifty, much less the Warriors of his personal retinue. Few were as involved and hands-on as Akanai in matters of command, which only made Yan admire her childhood hero turned Mother-in-Law all the more.
Halfway through her inspection however, Grandpa arrived in a flurry of Cloud-Steps to bring her away. Co, co, he said, so lively and excited as he grabbed her hand and led her back out of camp at a brisk canter. Theres sothing I want you to read. Ask no questions, for I will not answer, as anything I say could colour your perception and lead to false Insight.
Going along with the flow, Yan followed him back to his yurt which was right next to her own. In, in, in, Grandpa urged, so brimming with impatience it made him seem three decades younger. Once they were through the door, he shut it closed behind him as Kyung replaced the near finished candle with a fresh one. There was no book, scroll, or paper on the table for Yan to read, but before she could even ask, Grandpa reached into his sleeves and pulled out a folded note which he handed over in haste. Here, read this, but try not to read into the brushstrokes. No, wait. Yan, cover your eyes. Kyung, prepare ink and paper to transcribe this note. I want her to see this with fresh eyes and consider only the ssage itself without even so much as my brush-strokes to give anything away.
Even this much wasnt enough as Grandpa insisted on leaving the yurt with Kyung before allowing Yan to read whatever it was he wanted her to see in privacy, so as to ensure his expression would give nothing away. Since he was going to such great lengths, Yan reined in her mirth and took this seriously as it showed just how much he cared about her success, always worrying Rain or soone else would unduly interfere and lead her down a dead-end path. Taking a deep breath to calm her mind, she reached for Balance and sought still serenity before finally turning her attention to the letter in hand, and was almost imdiately disappointed. All this fuss for an auto-biography, which was hardly what she expected. The Imperial Army put great stock into these sorts of things, believing that the anecdotal musings of a Martial Warrior could help guide the next generation along their Martial Path, but even after reading more than her fair share of these dull and dusty ramblings, she had yet to find anything of use. Most Martial Warriors willing to share these personal histories with the Imperial Army were trained by the army to begin with, so reading the experiences of one was almost no different from another, all happy to drone on about hard work, dedication, honour, piety, and whatnot without ever delving into any specifics. Still, Yan had faith in Grandpa and knew he would never lead her wrong, so she settled in and read the snippet he so painstakingly provided for her.
All my life, the unnad narrator began, the most unpretentious opening Yan had ever read, I have never had a place to truly call ho. The farm which I grew up in was warm and full of love, with happy mories aplenty, but even then, I knew the shack we lived in and the fields we tended to were never truly ours. Instead, they belonged to a noble who allowed us the privilege to work his fields in exchange for a set price, one to be paid in crops or coin. Thus, every season of every year, my parents wore themselves haggard with stress and anxiety wondering if their harvest would cover the rent and still leave enough for the family to eat well, to which the answer was usually almost. Even knowing the yield of every field down to the bag of rice, no amount of hard work or sacrifice could match the ever increasing demands the landowner placed on all his vassals, which by design left our humble little family just enough to keep working, but no more. Back then, my grand ambition was to one day move away with my family to farm on our own land, so that we could all be free from the stress and worry of unpaid rent or possible eviction.
A humble beginning, but Yan could hardly see why Grandpa was so adamant she read this. Stifling a sigh of boredom, she held fast to Balance and continued on. When I was fifteen, army recruiters stopped in our village to speak with the youths, promising fa and fortune to anyone in possession of a Core and signed on as a soldier. Against my parents wishes, I snuck out to et with the recruiters and hear what they had to say, which was little more than a basic explanation of how to ditate and open ourselves up to the Heavens. By so miracle of the Mother Above, I successfully took my first step along the Martial Path six months later, Creating my Core and setting off to join the army after uttering promises to my weeping mother and stoic father that I would soon return with coin enough to buy the farm for them.
Little did I know an entire decade would pass before I saw them again, for I had only just set out on my Path. Basic training lasted a re six weeks, but to my younger self, each day felt like a year as the sergeants broke down and built back up in the image they so desired. The training camp barracks was little more than a tent full of single cots, and far from a welcoming environnt at that, as leaving anything out of place was grounds for a public dressing down as the sergeants pointed out your mistakes for all to see. Imagine my relief when training finally ca to an end and they announced I was a soldier in truth, but rather than being dismissed from camp to return ho for a visit, I was imdiately dispatched to serve at my first post, a sea-side shanty town plagued by marauding pirates.
And still not a single relevant detail in sight. Unable to remain patient any longer, Yan began skimming through the text as the narrator briefly detailed no less than thirty-two different postings which brought him all across Central in the next seven years, which was an atypical experience since most postings lasted for half a year at the minimum. Apparently, the narrators commanding officer had enemies in low places, for that was the only way to explain why their unit was dispatched to so many different postings without any real ergency taking place, as a petty punishnt and ans to keep the commander from ever getting too familiar with any superior Officers who might help advance his or her career. There were minor clashes aplenty, but few consequential victories to be had, if any at all, and the narrators bland and unvarnished depiction of events set the scene for just how disheartening it must have been to do so much and have so little to show for it.
At twenty two years of age, I was considered an experienced soldier of seven years, yet not even halfway through my first term of service. I had co to expect my entire career to play out just like this, drifting from one conflict to another, and I worried that by the ti I returned ho with the coin I promised my parents, they would not recognize their son, or worse, no longer be there to receive . I was an only child to aging parents who worked themselves to the bone each and every day of the year, and now Id left them with no one to care for them in their infirmity. There were services to help soldiers like bring coin back to their village, but even without the warnings of my older comrades in arms, my naive, younger self could still see how predatory those services were, with no guarantee that the coin would ever reach its destination. All I could do was let the army hold my pay save for what little I spent on myself as I experienced the vicissitudes of life through the narrow lenses of a soldier constantly on the march. I went where the army directed , ate what the army gave , wore what the army provided, and slept wherever I could lay my head down to rest. The first wine I tasted was distilled in the back of an army wagon. The first woman I lay with was a camp follower almost twice my age who gave a discount I later learned was no discount at all. My first shave was done using a sword as my razor and polished shield as mirror. My first loss was that of a brother Id t in basic training, a fellow farm-boy who died weeping in my arms as his lifes blood spilled out from the gaping hole in his chest.
A jarring rendition of events, and Yan cursed herself for skipping ahead and missing out on the gravity of it all, but she was too eager to find out what ca next to go back just yet. Then, in one fateful engagent, my Captain fell on the field of battle, and his second followed soon after. So too did the next three soldiers who stood up to take charge, and only then did I realize I was the most senior mber of the retinue still left standing. I rallied the n, and from there, I rember little of what I said or did during that fateful battle, only that I fought and killed until there were no enemies left standing before , and pitiful few allies beside . For my valiant efforts in the face of adversity, I was promoted to the rank of Captain and given command of the tattered remnants of my forr Captains retinue. Three days later, a batch of fresh recruits were dispatched to bring us back to full strength, alongside a tutor tasked with teaching to read and orders to head out towards the next conflict. Such was the start of my long and arduous career, one in which I, a naive young farmboy accepted every mission I was presented simply because I didnt know any better and was too stupid to ask.
Yan wasnt sure whether to laugh or cry at seeing how similar this man was to Rain, who himself went through a similar phase while fighting on the front lines in Sinuji. Liking the narrator more and more, she continued to devour the tale which was so different from BoShuis flowery prose, a bland and matter-of-fact account that said much with only a few words. There was so much left untold, yet there was still enough for her to fill in the details, and the next two years of the narrators life went by in a flash, an entire decade sumd up in the span of a few paragraphs.
From raw recruit to Captain was a journey of seven years, but little more than a year later, I was made Senior Captain after my commander took note of my talents and record of service. Soon after my promotion, my commander took aside and suggested I take so ti off to tackle the next step along the Martial Path. He told then that twenty five years of age was the demarcating line between snake and dragon, so while I had the markings of the latter, everyone would think the forr if I was unable to successfully Form my Natal Palace before years end.
So this was the reason Grandpa was so excited for Yan to read this, and she took a deep breath to calm herself before continuing. I accepted the proffered reading material and began the long journey ho, yet when I arrived there almost three weeks later, I was no closer to success than when I began. My long awaited reunion with my parents took precedence then, a mory I cherish to this day, for any rank, dal, or comndation was utterly worthless when placed next to the smiles of my aged parents, and this more than anything gave renewed focus to continue along my Path. The noble who owned their farm refused to sell the land as he had no reason to curry favour with a re Senior Captain, and instead, I was forced to use most of my savings to pay the steep penalty for the contract my parents entered into before I was even born, one that treated them like slaves to be bought and sold like chattel. Having finally seen the full weight of the burden my parents carried, I was set upon by a hunger for advancent both in my career and along the Martial Path, for only then could I protect that which I held dear.
Or in other words, might makes right, a universally accepted fact, but sohow, Yan could tell that the narrator no longer saw things the sa way.
The advice gleaned from military docunts suggested I model my Natal Palace on a place of significance in reality, but Id spent the last ten years drifting from conflict to conflict and was currently living out of the back of a wagon while searching for a ho for my parents to live in. What place of significance did I have to hold onto? None whatsoever, for the trials and tribulations had made strong, but they failed to instill with the confidence and courage to push forward without soone to direct . As the days passed, my father saw my troubles and eventually sat down like in days of old, so small and frail now that I possessed a Martial Warriors physique, but in my eyes, hed never been stronger than on that day. He smiled, patted my hand, and told that it didnt matter if they lived in ruin or opulence, so long as I lived my life with head held high. Then he told that hed found work on another farm, that he wanted to go back to toiling day and night to enrich not just so noble landowner, but another farr as well, an extra middleman to pay before he and mother received their fair share. Though he didnt say it in so many words, I could tell he was afraid that my humble background would hold back, that my filial efforts would distract from the Martial Path and promising prospects before , so he bade farewell and brought my mother away to subsist in worse conditions than when I first left them.
I spent the rest of that night in quiet ditation, parsing through the complex emotions threatening to overwhelm . I had no constant in life to lean back on, none save for the love and support of my parents who now believed I would be better off without them. Logically, I understood the decision, and while I could not bring myself to agree with it, my father had spoken and made his decision clear. How could I chase him down and deny him without an alternative solution to offer him? It was obvious to all that while the army prepared to fight and lead, it did little to teach the ways of life and how to be a man. I was out of my depth, lacking in both coin and good sense, so how could I be expected to support my parents when I barely knew what to do with myself?
Co morning, the sun rose and the morning dew dried, but still I was undecided on what to do next, so in a bid to find escape from my troubles, I sought Balance and Insight into the Dao. I had no set goal for doing so, similar to how Id lived my entire life thus far, only a yearning to be better today than the man I was yesterday, the man who let his parents walk away for fear of being burdened by them. Without a place of significance to base my Natal Palace upon, I could only look inwards into myself, and there I found my answer. So long as I drew breath, I could rely on myself to strive and struggle for the life I desired, one in which I chased after my father and told him that he was no burden, but the guiding light in my life which I failed to heed often enough. Why must a Natal Palace be based on a place of significance? Chi is formless, so why must the Natal Palace be envisioned and remain fixed in mind? So long as I existed, so too would my Natal Palace, and thus, I made myself the anchor for this significant milestone along the Martial Path. When I opened my eyes, I knew I had succeeded, and only then did I have the courage to chase after my parents and bring them away to a better life.
That was the abrupt conclusion to what Kyung copied for her, and for a mont, she wondered if hed left a page out, but there was no chance that was the case. That last paragraph was a jumble of words which she individually understood, but made no sense when put in that order, and she read it several more tis to try and understand his aning. Did he envision himself, like the Natal Soul Rain spoke of? No, he asked why it must be envisioned, so it had to be sothing more... abstract. He made himself the anchor, so that as long as he existed, so too did his Natal Palace. There was no ntion of formation, no description of what he envisioned, no mont of realization, only a statent of existence, as if his Natal Palace had been there all along, and he only just realized it.
There were so scant similarities in this account to what Yan experienced herself, but too many differences to account for. She herself lacked a stable and beloved place to reference, her bitter animosity over never being adopted clashing with her inner turmoil over leaving her ho of almost twenty years. Central didnt offer her a warm welco either, not after Grandpa declared her as his Terminal Disciple and adopted granddaughter without thinking things through, a touching gesture she loved him for yet still logically disagreed with. Then there was the matter of the narrator feeling as if he could only rely on himself, for Yan had many people who helped her along the way. Not just Grandpa and Rain, but Mila, Lin-Lin, Kyung, Eun, Dain, Wu Gam, Tomor, Mugi, Altan, Akanai, Tursinai, and so many more.
No, she was too focused on the specifics, on the differences, on convincing herself that this wouldnt work. Instead, she should set her mind to trying to understand what Grandpa Du wanted her to read. It wasnt any specific detail in the narrative, else he would not have given her so much to digest. The question to ask was not how the narrator Ford his Natal Palace, but rather what could Yan glean from this mans experiences to help her along her Path. It was the thod he used that was the key here, the basis upon which he built his Natal Palace, not a place in reality like Rain and the village, Mila and the bamboo grove, or Grandpa and the Wutai Mountains, but... what? Himself? No, not himself, but the concept of self-reliance. So long as he existed, so too did his Natal Palace, that was what he said, and it was this which gave him the strength and conviction to progress forward along his Path.
So if not a place, what was a concept Yan could use as an anchor to her Natal Palace? Surely not self-reliance, for she would not be where she was today without the support of so many, but there had to be sothing...
The answer evaded her as she pondered for hours on end, only to deliver itself to her the mont she stepped outside the stuffy yurt. A cool and refreshing breeze washed over her, bringing away the sll of herbal incense and candle wax and reinvigorating her very being by reminding her of that which she loved and adored. Though she possessed the Blessing of Air as Grandpa was always quick to point out, it was the wind which Yan held near and dear to her heart. Air was stagnant and stifling, but the wind was a gust of gentle freedom and a gale of overbearing dominance in one, a representation of her ability to do as she pleased. It was the wind which spoke to her, not the air itself, but the movent of air that set her skin to tingling and mind at ease. With the wind at her back, she could go anywhere and do anything, but only because she knew she had people ready to catch her if she should fall.
People like Grandpa and Kyung, who she found standing outside and doing their best not to appear too hopeful so that she wouldnt feel ashad if she failed to glean anything from the readings. People like her sister-wives Mila and Lin-Lin who were likely finally getting out of bed and no doubt wondering if she would join them for lunch. People like her in-laws Baatar and Sarnai, who both only had glowing praises for her, Alsantset and Charok who were always there to answer any questions she might have, Li-Li and Luo-Luo who always had a friendly floof or poignant lody to share if Yan ever needed it. And of course, there was Rain himself, the one person who not only supported her decision, but also encouraged her to follow through with it in a ti when she needed it most. All those years ago, even though she was excited to have been chosen by an esteed Hero of the Empire, shed also been terrified of leaving everyone and everything she knew behind. To her, the wind was freedom, but she would never have had the courage to take so great a leap without Rains love and support, and she would not have made it this far without Grandpa, Eun, Kyung, and so many others. The wind was her reminder, her anchor and object of significance, one that was invisible and formless like Chi, but every bit as real as she.
And just like that, the world changed in a way only Yan herself could perceive as she beca aware of the vastness of the Heavens around her. Im not sure, she began, cocking her head in uncertain certainty as she parsed through these newfangled sensations, But I think I just Ford my Natal Palace.
Hardly the most confident of statents, but seeing Grandpa and Kyungs smile, Yan knew it to be true, for this was a mont she would rember for all eternity, so long as the wind still blew.
Chapter
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