Chapter 607

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1XhEc1bMyZJCF5xSMEg1K4MDmYKfQAlQtV1gacdE1ijE/edit?usp=sharing

Though inundated with a steady stream of good tidings today, Luo-Luo could not bring herself to smile and celebrate.

Lord Husband was awake and in good health again, which was delightful to know, but that didn’t mean Luo-Luo’s work didn’t need doing. While she toiled away managing his personal business and official duties, he had no doubt put her entirely out of mind to cuddle with his pets, but there was nothing new about this state of affairs, and she was simply glad to see him conscious and recovering from his ordeal.

No, Luo-Luo had other reasons to fret, and it had to do with the other celebratory event of the day, the Imperial Army’s successful withdrawal from the front lines. Sorya and Anrhi were in and out of the office bringing her all the latest stories of heroic victories and military successes, and while she was glad to hear things were going well, she was unable to focus on the good news and could only see the downsides wherever she looked. The withdrawal was a success, but this had not come without cost, and now the Defiled were closer than ever. That was the truth of their situation, despite what many others chose to believe, but even this wasn’t the sole reason for Luo-Luo’s melancholy. In her youth, she found tales, dramas, and operas of Imperial superiority inspiring and uplifting, but having seen the truth of war firsthand, she now saw those stories for the lies they were. There was no glory or grandeur in war, no honour or dignity in death, only frightened soldiers struggling to stay alive in the face of an Enemy determined to see them dead.

The greatest reward for a battle well fought was survival itself, and even this might not seem true for many unfortunate soldiers. At least if they died in the line of duty, their families would receive the colloquially termed ‘blood coin’, a substantial one-time payment rendered to fallen soldiers. In contrast, a crippled Martial Warrior was a substantial drain on family finances, and all but impossible to sustain for families of humble origins. While recent trends had seen injured soldiers better cared for by Imperial interests, Lord Husband felt it wasn’t enough and was committed to helping as many crippled Warriors as he could, even if it beggared him in the process. He sought to provide their families with food while they recovered and gave them gainful employment when recovered, often paying ridiculous salaries simply because the worker was still a Martial Warrior. He even worked with his Teacher and Healer Taiyi ZhuShen to provide them with the best medical care available, which was expensive considering any Healer of note had been drafted into the army and spent upwards of eighteen hours a day keeping soldiers alive and battle-ready, with little Chi or energy to spare to help the hopeless.

Regrowing a single limb was more difficult than Healing a hundred gutted, impaled, or otherwise injured soldiers. Granted, this was because the latter only required the bare minimum of treatment from the Healers, as living soldiers would eventually recover from almost any other injury with time alone. A lost eye or limb, however, was gone forever without the help of an experienced Healer, and it simply wasn’t worth the effort for most.

All in all, this was a noble endeavour which Luo-Luo believed it needed to be done, but combined with the ever-increasing exorbitant demands of the Tyrant OuYang Yuhuan, Lord Husband’s refusal to profit from supplying food and building materials to new arrivals, and his goal to train and arm every able-bodied civilian living along the border, Lord Husband’s wealth had been in steady decline for some time now, despite his personal businesses turning profits hand over fist. Now, with a new influx of injured, discharged soldiers soon to arrive, this might finally be enough to burn through his personal reserves and leave him without a coin to his name.

The Minister of Finance, in danger of becoming destitute. Now that was a joke everyone could laugh at, from the lowliest peasant to even the lofty Emperor Himself. Thankfully, Lord Husband had separated his Official duties from his personal finances, because if word got out about his personal finances, it would most certainly raise questions about the validity of his post. Luo-Luo could hear it now, people whispering in the streets about how the Minister of Finance couldn’t even manage his own personal finances, so how could he be trusted to manage Imperial Finances? While most people were still unaware of just how much power and influence Lord Husband’s Office wielded, though the nobles of the Empire had most certainly taken note. Even now, at the height of Lord Husband’s success and popularity, his peers and rivals were all plotting to bring him down and take his power for their own.

Such was the way of life and politics, which meant Luo-Luo had many long days and sleepless nights ahead.

Things were not so bad that Lord Husband could never recover. Most of his debts could be covered by payments owed, so it was only a matter of balancing the two so that she never had to dip into his dwindling stash of cold, hard coin. If her hand was forced, Luo-Luo could always swallow her pride and go to her in-laws for a loan, but even the thought of doing so soured her mood for days, if not weeks. Mother-in-Law Sarnai seemed to think Luo-Luo incompetent and unable to properly manage his finances, and while she was technically correct, there were few people alive who could do better than Luo-Luo. Unless there was a financial guru out there who could make coin appear with the snap of his fingers, then Lord Husband was fated for financial ruin.

The frustrating man had a remarkable affinity for earning coin, but was seemingly offended by the prospect of keeping it. “Coin is meant to be spent,” he once quipped, when Luo-Luo brought her concerns to him some weeks ago. “What good does it do sitting in a vault somewhere?”

What good indeed, but the coin didn’t even have time to reach Lord Husband’s coffers before he frittered it away, unwilling to stop or even slow his charitable contributions for even a month, so Luo-Luo could rebuild his reserves in case of emergencies. Right now, all she had left to rely on were his personal supply of War Bonds, which stood to turn a significant profit considering he purchased them in advanced at base value, but she was leery of using them so soon. If the Minister of Finance were to divest himself of the War Bonds he himself introduced, others might see it as his lack of faith in his own endeavours, or an attempt to offload what still others believed were ‘fraudulent’ goods. What’s more, few individuals cared to sell their War Bonds, because having ‘only’ ten was the bare minimum for one to publicly, but indirectly, brag about their investment. To date, only a small number of War Bonds had officially traded hands, most of which went from subordinate to superior, and it would not be fitting for Lord Husband to be among the first to actually sell them for a profit.

However, as the day wore on and noon approached, Luo-Luo checked her numbers again and again only to repeatedly arrive at the same conclusion. Lord Husband did not have enough coin on hand to aid this coming influx of crippled soldiers. There would be no hiding it either, because Lord Husband’s charitable efforts were known to all, and if he were to refuse to continue offering aid at considerable expense, he would be tried and sentenced in the court of public opinion. As much as she didn’t want to burden him with financial issues so soon after waking from his coma, Luo-Luo needed Lord Husband to make a decision on how to proceed. Aside from taking on loans, their only other options were to either sell off a profitable company to raise funds or make plans to reduce the amount of support provided to imminent wave of discharged cripples.

Luo-Luo knew what Lord Husband would choose, but she still needed to talk to him before selling off part of their holdings. With her papers in hand, she bade farewell to Jian Xianhe, who was busy poring over papers in the corner while rubbing his bare feet, and left with Gunan and Kuang Biao in tow. Outside the office, more Death Corps guards stood at attention with weapons at the ready, while still more patrolled the roads and rooftops surrounding Lord Husband’s manor. The ever-vigilant guards were even more uptight than usual these days, having been banished from the manor ever since the venerable Guan Suo passed away, and it did not sit well with them leaving their ward’s protection in the hands of others. This was done on Mother-in-Law Sarnai’s orders, though Luo-Luo had been the one to deliver it since Lord Husband was unable to, and the Death Corps were growing restless without Lord Husband around to calm them. It couldn't be helped, as mother-in-law wanted the Death Corps kept in the dark about everything, including Lord Husband’s ailment, because there were too many secrets surrounding that fateful night, secrets which could land Lord Husband in grave peril should they ever see the light of day.

The emergence of a true Divine Turtle and the reincarnation of an Ancestral Beast, two miracles which even the Emperor Himself would take note of, and Lord Husband lay at the crux of them both. Worse, sweet Ping Ping might even be taken away for study, or possibly even killed outright for fear of her strength, and Lord Husband would die before letting either happen, so it was best for everyone’s sake to not let matters get out of hand. When she arrived within a hundred paces of the manor, Luo-Luo dismissed Kuang Biao alongside the rest of her Death Corps escorts, and once again, Kuang Biao protested his dismissal. “Lady Zheng,” he began, always in that same servile, yet almost challenge tone. “This one begs permission to speak.”

“If it’s to repeat what you’ve said these last twenty days, then you do not have it.” It was bad form to be snippy with the Death Corps, for they were Warriors deserving of respect, but Luo-Luo had had it with the former Royal Guardian’s peevish probing. “If Lord Husband has orders for you, he will pass them along. Until such a time, you will return to your duties and refrain from troubling him with missives or Sendings unless it is of dire importance.”

“By your will, Lady Zheng,” Kuang Biao replied, his measured expression unable to hide his irritation from her practised eyes. “This one’s purpose is to defend Imperial Minister from harm, but there was another Wraith attack on the manor last night, and we Death Corps could do nothing to help as we were stationed too far away. What’s more, we Death Corps do talk amongst ourselves, and we cannot help but notice Imperial Minister has not emerged from the manor for more than two weeks. Given how none of us are able to confirm he is in good health, there is a growing concern regarding Imperial Minister’s situation. Thus far, we have kept our concerns to ourselves, but should an outsider hear of them and put it together with Lady Zheng’s commands keeping the Death Corps away, they might misconstrue the situation and think you unconcerned with Imperial Minister’s... well-being.”

A warning to make the situation public? Or was this merely another attempt to elicit information from her? Seeing no harm in it, Luo-Luo sighed and said, “Fine, if you wish to confirm Lord Husband’s good health, I’ll speak with him about coming out to say a few words, but the perimeter still needs to be guarded. Lord Husband’s people have strict measures in place to keep him safe, and unrelated guards would dampen their effectiveness.” Kuang Biao remained unconvinced of course, considering Gunan, a former Aspirant of the Confessor and an Expert Martial Warrior in his own right, would escort Luo-Luo right up to the manor doors, but it was the best she could come up with, given the circumstances. She simply couldn’t afford to let the Death Corps see the diminutive Ping Ping and the mischievous red panda, as the former greeted her with happy squeaks and affectionate Aura at the manor door while the latter glowered at her from his ‘hidden’ perch in the tree.

How the Bekhai managed to hide the two animals from Shen ZhenWu, Luo-Luo didn’t know, but Ping Ping’s absence was easy enough to explain. Mother-in-Law claimed Ping Ping absconded with Guan Suo’s corpse and retreated to her home in the north, travelling through the skies with the ease of a Peak Expert. Again, hardly the most convincing argument, but Shen ZhenWu and the Imperial Clan were not concerned with the whereabouts of a Spiritual Beast, which is technically what Ping Ping was until two weeks ago.

And now she was a Divine Turtle in truth, and Lord Husband had somehow helped with her Ascension.

As for the red panda... it wasn’t venerable Guan Suo trapped in a beast’s body, that much was sure. On Mother-in-Law Sarnai’s request, Luo-Luo tested the theory thoroughly and found that the red panda was just a red panda. He didn’t recognize a pipe for what it was and threw it away when he sniffed its contents. He couldn’t open a simple latch and lift the lid of a chest to get at the fruit inside, even after being shown the process several times. It wasn’t even a Spiritual Beast, with no signs of any control over the Blessing of Smoke like the powerful Guan Suo demonstrated on the fields of Sinuji.

That said, there were hints of the grouchy venerable in the red panda’s behaviour, like his surly demeanour, fondness for the Divine Turtle, and unwillingness to take food which was given freely. Everything the red panda ate had to be found or scavenged, even if it was simply a plate of fruit left unattended or eggs placed in a nook of the tree, reminiscent of how the venerable Guan Suo used to steal food from Lord Husband’s plate. In the end, Luo-Luo didn’t know what to think about the little beast, so she simply ignored it whenever possible. Ping Ping however got much of her attention, as Luo-Luo had been one of the few people allowed to tend to Lord Husband whilst he was unconscious. Perhaps saying few was being a mite ungenerous, since the list included all of Lord Husband’s family, both his wives, his wives’ families, the Medical Saint, Lin-Lin, a number of Bekhai guards, and perhaps a few more she was forgetting, but still, it meant the sweet girl recognized Luo-Luo’s relationship with Lord Husband and treated her as family.

Tickling the underside of Ping Ping’s chin, Luo-Luo smiled at the Guardian Turtle’s warm greeting, which in turn woke the other animals up and brought them over to investigate. As much as she loved the bears, birds, rabbits, and wildcats, Luo-Luo heart ached for the poor cattle serving with Lord Husband’s retinue and prayed they all would make it back in good health. It wasn’t right sending those sweet animals out into war, for some of the sweetest members of the herd were also supposedly the fiercest, like jubilant Moomie who would dance a little jig whenever he saw her with zither or pipa in hand, or beautiful Wendy who gently encouraged passerby’s to stroke her braided locks. Then there was Big Mac, who would ever so gently lay his head upon her lap, always mindful of his prodigious weight and pointed horns, and silly Arby did so love to present his belly for a rub. They were all out there right now, alongside many of their friends, and while not all of them would be ridden into battle, Luo-Luo still feared for their lives.

It wasn’t right, sending the poor, sweet cattle out to fight. They were such gentle creatures, they deserved to live their lives safe from predators and free from the conflicts of man, with endless plains of grass to graze on and low-hanging fruits a plenty to relish and enjoy.

The animals were the only ones to greet Luo-Luo at the door, though Song offered her a stoic nod while swinging to and fro on the tire swing. Incidentally, the red panda’s hiding spot was closer to Song that usual, no doubt drawn there by the tire swing which it so loved to sit in once night fell and the courtyard sat empty. Every night, the red panda would climb down from the tree and set the chains to creaking, and it was an adorable sight to behold. For now though, all it did bare its fangs and glower from afar as Luo-Luo played with Ping Ping a bit. The sweet turtle did so love to wrestle and roughhouse, likely because she’d been constrained by her size for so many years, but Luo-Luo could see Ping Ping was simply starved for stimulation. Being cooped up in the manor all day was boring her to tears, but thankfully Lord Husband’s situation had kept her from leaving of her own volition, though Luo-Luo wasn’t sure how much longer this would last. Now that Lord Husband was awake, Ping Ping seemed content to wander the manor on her own instead of sticking close to his side, and the boredom was taking a toll on her.

Lifting Ping Ping into her arms, Luo-Luo cuddled the sweet girl and brought her up to Lord Husband’s room. Inside, she found him hunched over his desk with parchment aplenty and writing furiously as if trying to dull the point of his steel pen. “Hi there,” he cooed, in such a warm tone it set Luo-Luo’s cheeks to blushing, until she realized he was talking to Ping Ping. “Hi Luo-Luo. What can I do for you?”

No small talk or smile, just straight to business, but Luo-Luo took it all in stride. “I’m here regarding the state of your personal finances.”

Placing her prepared documents on the sole empty corner of his desk, she prepared to explain in great detail where all his coin went and why they needed an influx of gold, but Lord Husband cut her off after only a few sentences. “Yea I figured we’d run out of available coin soon. Sell the cast iron enterprise.”

“...Which one?” Cast iron was one of Lord Husband’s largest and most profitable ventures, as he had single-handedly supplied almost half the cast iron used in the construction of the Western Wall. He also had many manufacturing ventures related to cast iron, including factories producing all manner of cast iron goods, such as chariots, wagon frames, springs, farming tools, and even decorations, though the last one had yet to turn a profit.

“All of them, except the ones we need to make wagons, chariots, and catapults.” Seeing Luo-Luo’s surprise, Lord Husband offered her a seat and explained, “The terms of our futures contracts with the mining companies are almost up, and the price of iron ore has risen significantly in the time since. This means our soaring profits will soon dip as mine owners try to gouge us with ore prices, which are already artificially high. What’s more, much of our profits came from military contracts, which have dried up ever since we finished building the Western Wall. This being the case, we might as well get out of the game and sell the businesses before their value drops in a year’s time.”

The expiration of their contracts ensuring their ability to purchase of cheap iron ore had no gone unnoticed, but Luo-Luo had many contingencies in place to continue profiting from cast iron. “Lord Husband,” she began, unsure how to best share her thoughts, but in the end, she went with her open, honest feelings. “This is madness. Cast iron can still be profitable, we only need to make a few minor changes, like focusing on commercial construction contracts or marketing cast iron tools to the Empire at large.”

“Madness?” Flashing a maniacal grin, Lord Husband looked up from petting Ping Ping and said, “No. This. Is. Business!” Seeing his supposed joke fall flat, his grin faltered a little before returning in full force, this time infused with sheepish embarrassment. “You’re not wrong. It wouldn’t be difficult to ensure our cast iron businesses continue to make a profit, but we’d make more coin selling the business and investing the proceeds elsewhere. Well, parts of it, at least, since you say we need the coin infusion to keep things afloat, which is the whole reason we’re having this discussion, right?”

For long seconds, Luo-Luo struggled to present a coherent argument, but then she stopped to think and realized Lord Husband was right. With their businesses showing record profits, they would be massively over-valued by prospective buyers, many of whom were Lord Husband’s competitors and the reason the price of iron ore was so artificially high. Luo-Luo had even noticed that forged iron was only marginally more expensive than raw ore, as opposed to seven to ten times the price of the raw materials due to extensive labour costs. Knowing this, she re-evaluated her plans and calculated that it would take close to a decade for the various cast iron businesses to match the profits of what they stood to gain from selling them. Now, not only would this take care of all their impending financial woes, it also saved Luo-Luo from having to bend over backwards to ensure the businesses would continue to profit. It seemed so simple once Lord Husband pointed it out, but she never even considered this route in all her time spent agonizing over the issue, and it made her feel... inadequate.

Managing Lord Husband’s finances was the only thing she could do, but what use did she have if he was so much better at it?

“Don’t look so sad,” Lord Husband said, reaching over to clasp Luo-Luo’s hand. “I know it’s hard to sell a business you built from the ground up, but this is the best course of action. Just know that I appreciate all the hard work you’ve put into this, and I would never have gotten this far without your help.” His concern brought a smile to her face as she remembered where they last left off, but it seemed Lord Husband was not in an amorous mood as he promptly leaned back to stare at his notes. “Is there anything else?”

“No, Lord Husband.” Taking a moment to scan his scribbled characters, Luo-Luo could not make hide nor hair of what he was trying to say, for the pages read like the ramblings of a mad man. ‘Big Core, Big Natal Palace?’, ‘Why Aura?’, ‘What is Aura?’, ‘Link between Aura and Emotion?’, ‘Domain???’, and more nonsensical questions were jotted across the pages, with his aborted attempts to answer each question all crossed out and unreadable. “If I may ask, Lord Husband, what are you trying to accomplish?”

“Well...” Slumping in his seat like a defeated dog, Lord Husband sighed and pushed the papers aside. “I had this crazy idea to try and... demystify the Martial Path and maybe make it easier for commoners to maybe Create a Core, but I’ve been at this for an hour and I don’t know where to start. I don’t even have enough to bring to Grandpa Du or Grand Mentor, whenever they get back from celebrating Yan and Mila’s recent successes. All I have is, ‘The Core is the powerhouse of the Martial Warrior’, and the rest is just... questions without answers. Plenty of those going around lately...” After falling silent for several seconds, Lord Husband sat back up with a wry smile and asked, “So what was Core Creation like for you, or do you not remember it?”

Lord Husband was not one to dream small, but even this seemed too far out of his reach. Still, there was no harm in humouring him, especially if it might help with repairing his Core, even if she didn’t know how that was possible. “It sounds trite when I say it, but like a warm embrace.” Basking in the fond memory of her first success, she brought the experience to mind once again. “I was seven, and most of my peers had already Created their Cores and moved on to other lessons. I remember crying myself to sleep for weeks out of worry I would never succeed, and in doing so I’d disappoint my parents who’d given me away. Back then, I dreamed of excelling so much, they’d feel compelled to acknowledge me as their daughter again, if only to take pride in my accomplishments.” A foolish dream for a foolish girl, but it was not her first, and would most certainly not be her last. “The day it happened is still fresh in my memory, and I will hold fast to it until the day I die. Lessons were over, and I was sitting in the grass outside, not purposefully meditating but just... wasting time. Plucking grass and braiding flowers, that sort of thing, and thinking unkind thoughts about my arithmetic teacher. It was a temperate spring day, with not a cloud to be seen, and the air just warm enough to be comfortable without a breeze, but not so cold as to raise a chill when one blew by. There I sat, looking over the verdant green fields basking beneath the warm, soft sun, and I thought, ‘I wish every day was this perfect’.” Her cheeks aching from the strain of smiling, she shrugged and continued one. “And then I found Balance. The Energy of the Heavens surged into my Core and swept me away on a current of love and affection, as if the Mother Herself had come down to take me into her arms and tell me She wished it were so too.”

What she didn’t share with Lord Husband was the faint tinge of melancholy and regret suffused within that warm embrace. This was one of her fondest memories, something which kept her going through all the trials and tribulations of Luo-Luo’s life. The Mother also wished every day could be beautiful and perfect, but alas, it could not be so. Crops needed rain and birds needed wind, and the seasons needed change else the world would fall apart. Without the darkness, one could not appreciate the light, just like hardships made an accomplishment that much more meaningful. Luo-Luo could never have composed or completed ‘Rise to Glory’ if she had not overcome the hurdles within her path, for it was the low, ominous tones which made the joyous, upbeat sections of the song that much more enjoyable.

In a word, it was Balance, and Luo-Luo could think of no better word to describe it.

The warm, fluttering affection of Ping Ping’s Aura caught Luo-Luo by surprise, but she smiled at the sweet Guardian Turtle. “Thank you,” she crooned, rubbing the ridges above Ping Ping’s eyes. “I love you too, sweet girl.”

“She does enjoy throwing her Aura around willy nilly,” Lord Husband muttered, jokingly feigning jealousy as he shook his head. “It’s sweet and all, but nice as it is, I’m worried it’ll get her in trouble if she uses it on the wrong person. Most people don’t know about Emotional Aura, and I’m not sure how the world at large will react to it. Pong Pong can do the same, but at least he knows enough to keep a low profile. Ping Ping has been in the public eye for so long, she’s completely forgotten how dangerous humans can really be.”

Nodding in agreement, Luo-Luo’s words froze in her throat as she was struck by a thought. “Lord Husband,” she began, quietly appraising his reaction. “How did you know Ping Ping was using her Aura?”

Raising his eyebrow in question, Lord Husband replied, “...Because I felt it?”

“You felt her Aura.”

“Yea. As far as I can tell, she doesn’t know how to direct it at just one person yet, and blasts it at everyone in range. Made a couple bunbuns real confused earlier today. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem like her range extends very far, and definitely not past the manor walls, else we’d have a lot of confused guards wondering why they feel loved all of a sudden.”

“Lord Husband.” Something in her tone made him look directly at her, and she was unable to contain her excitement. “You felt. Her Aura. Can you feel anyone else’s?”

“...Oh shit!” Eyes widening in understanding, Lord Husband looked at Luo-Luo, then Ping Ping, then Luo-Luo once more. “I forgot I can’t feel Aura in the real world! It’s hard keeping track when I keep jumping in and out of Natal Palaces where the rules keep changing.” Leaping to his feet, Lord Husband ran to the window, stuck his head out, and shouted, “Could someone hit me with their Aura please?” A pause, followed by a cackle of delight. “I felt that! I felt it! Someone used Aura on me.” Turning away from the window, he circled back to it and stuck his head out once more. “Try using Aura offensively against me now.” Lord Husband paused again, but it was easy to see from his stiff posture that it’d worked once again. “I forgot how terrifying that is,” he mumbled, before shouting, “Thanks for your help!” Spinning about to face Luo-Luo, Lord Husband grinned and said, “I can feel Aura again!”

“Indeed you can.” With a smile which matched his own, Luo-Luo’s heart soared in joy. Lord Husband could feel Aura again, and while she couldn’t say for certain, a return to normalcy seemed like good news rather than bad. No one knew why Aura no longer affected him after he shattered his Core, but then again, no one knew why his skin was less durable than parchment for months without end, or why he was barely able to stand upright and now was easily more fit than most mortals, though still unable to match even the weakest Martial Warrior. Like Lord Husband said, there were many unanswered questions about him, but for the first time since Sinuji, his recovery was making headway once more, and his return to strength seemed all but inevitable.

And that, was news worthy of celebration.