This feels like cheating :'(

But here is ch 359 in advance. I finished rewriting, but have yet to edit it. Now i'm going to a bbq and have no time to continue, soo....

Yea. Don't tell anyone. This feels so wrong... Also, dunno if i'll have another for tomorrow, cause like... yea. I'll try tho.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1KgJ10ApOUODRWgXAtxUfdzu1pm5PIM974OEvkMcXmtE/edit?usp=sharing

Cursing her foolish pride and pampered lifestyle, Yan dreaded the aching thighs and bruised bottom which awaited in her near future, all thanks to her stupid, unreasonable jealousy. Had she known she’d be travelling for the contests, she would never have returned Shana and Zabu so soon, a hasty decision made in a fit of pique. What did she expect? For the quins to ruin Rain’s marriage night and send his new concubine screaming into the night? What good would that do? Now, she paid the price for her unreasonable jealousy, forced to endure inhumane abuse to her lower-half before a crowd of her peers and commoners.

There were few things worse than sitting upright on a hard, lumpy saddle and bouncing about on the back of a horse.

Losing her seat on Shana’s soft, stable hindquarters wasn’t even the worst of it, Yan also lost those adorable pups to play with and their ferocious papa-quin to protect her. She’d traded them away for a moody, skittish, gelding who seemed liable to run off at the first sign of danger. If only she’d put more effort into practising horsemanship, but after Grandpa took her in, she’d always had Shana to ride on or a carriage to sit in. How anyone endured hours bouncing on these tall, steel-backed creatures and walked away whole was beyond her meagre comprehension, her inner thighs already aching from strain after a few minutes of riding.

Why would anyone ride horses when quins were the objectively superior mount? A steadier gait and softer seat were the least of it, quins also required less maintenance and fewer supplies than these skittish, four-legged monstrosities. Being scatter-brained herbivores wasn’t enough, horses also had sensitive feet and selective diets. Too good to eat the plentiful grass all around them, her Acasian Trotter ate nothing but the best grain money could buy, and plenty of it to boot. The five kilogram bundle packed in her saddlebags would only last the horse a single day, and should this stupid contest run longer, she’d have to buy more grain instead of sending it out to forage for itself.

Then, there was how often horses squeezed out their enormous shits mid-stride, desecrating the otherwise pristine and uncluttered roads with the putrid fruit of their bowels.

Horses were the worst.

Quashing her animosity towards horses and curiosity regarding why she’d never seen a street cleaner at work, Yan awkwardly held her reins and patted her mount’s neck in apology, praying it wouldn’t rear up and throw her off if spooked. The placid creature didn’t even notice her efforts, but it made Yan feel a little better about her rude inner-monologue. Since it did nothing for her pained muscles and poor temper, she instead focused on the task at hand, the contest from which she intended to emerge victorious, though she hadn’t the slightest idea how she was supposed to accomplish such a feat.

Stupid Legate and his stupid contests. When the Eastern pretty-boy announced his ‘feats of strength, skill, speed, and spirit’, she imagined something more along the lines of a massed melee or a foot race of some sort. Instead, she’d been assigned a meeting place where she and her peers were to meet their ward, an Imperial Guardian masquerading as a civilian merchant, and sortie out of the city on some task or the other. A stupid, meaningless waste of time, but she figured she might as well play along with the silly narrative and see what farce the Legate’s people had planned for them

Awkwardly riding towards her destination, Yan envisioned a harrowing escape through stony city streets and back alley paths, dragging the Guardian behind her in a desperate struggle against a second group of contestants assigned to stop them. In her imagined scenario, she’d step forward and take command of her fellow Captains/Warrant Officers, telling them to look after the Guardian while she single-handedly defeated her opponents in an overwhelming display of Martial skill, neatly proving her prowess and saving herself from the torture of riding a horse.

The only way she could be more uncomfortable is if she were strapped face-up to her horse’s belly with her mouth positioned right below his asshole.

Arriving at the city outskirts, Yan found the stone marker where she was to meet her team. Despite her poor riding skills and slow pace, she was not the last to arrive, nor was she the first. Standing with arms crossed and brow furrowed, an older, burly, dark-skinned southerner with an elaborately-styled moustache greeted her with a cold, silent stare. Unlike most southerners she’d met, this one wore plain, standard-issue everything, right down to his standard-issue boots and his standard-issue haircut. A career, common-born soldier then, one unaffiliated with clan, sect, or faction yet still talented and fortunate enough to climb the ranks and even be issued a Spiritual Weapon, the wickedly curved one handed scimitar strapped to his waist. Though others might look down on his lack of backing, Yan immediately felt an unspoken kinship with the man, as were it not for a stroke of luck and meeting Grandpa, she undoubtedly would have followed in his footsteps and become a career soldier herself, or at least a career Sentinel.

Beside him stood a tall, plain-faced man with a narrow physique and impassive expression, the Royal Guardian turned ward for the day, she presumed. Clumsily sliding off the saddle, she lifted the reins to greet the two men with a clasped-fist salute and a friendly smile. Not too friendly though, she didn’t want them to get the wrong impression, like so many others she’d met in Central. “This one is Du Min Yan. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“This one is Qiang,” the Guardian replied, so uninterested in her smile he seemed ready to fall asleep. “We will go over the parameters of your mission when the rest of your team has arrived.”

Seeing he had nothing else to add, Yan turned to the dour Southerner and nodded. “It appears we’ll be working together for the interim, Captain...?”

The Southerner frowned in silence for what felt like an eternity before grudgingly opening his mouth to utter, “Sutah.” Not the friendliest man around, but then again, she wasn’t here to make friends. Still, there was nothing wrong with being civil, so she kept smiling and nodded politely before positioning herself on Qiang’s left, her shield at the ready should she have need of it. Doing a quick visual check of their surroundings, she found there wasn’t much to see aside from the busy Imperial Road, with the city to her south, the Azure Sea to the West and unending swathes of grass stretching in all other directions before disappearing off into the horizon, where sky met earth in a most disorienting fashion.

Even after living in Central for more than a year, Yan often found herself unnerved by how flat it was. There were no mountains dotting the horizon or dense forests blotting out the sun, only small mounds of grass which passed for hills and the odd tree to break up the monotonous scenery. Not to say Central was boring and ugly, there was beauty here, but it was a cultivated beauty, one of neat little gardens or carefully designed manors, lacking in comparison to the wild, untamed beauty of the North.

As much as she loved Grandpa Du and Eun, she missed living in a close knit community where everyone looked out for their neighbours. Hopefully, when her time in Central came to an end, there’d still be a place for her among the People, though considering how Mila and Big Huu snubbed her earlier, Yan wasn’t entirely optimistic about those chances. Mila she understood, the temperamental red-panda was upset over Yan’s ‘rejection’, but in her defence, Rain never meant for Shana to be a betrothal gift and Mila should know this. As for Big Huu... Hopefully, the big lug was just too distracted or excited and failed to notice her greeting. Before Rain, Big Huu had been her closest friend, her sparring partner and confidant, always happy to help her train and endure her verbal barbs. She’d even had a crush on him for all of a week until she realized how boring and naggy he really was...

The rest of Yan’s party took their sweet time arriving, three rich fops in their early thirties laughing and fawning over their last companion, a lovely young warrior woman. None were dressed appropriately for a military mission. The men wearing colourfully embroidered robes with wide sleeves and flared leggings and an assortment of dangling hair ornaments and feathered decorations. Not to be outdone, the woman wore an actual tiara along with a full set of jewellery, including a total of seven rings and countless bangles on both forearms and ankles. Her low-cut tunic and short skirt left plenty of skin bare, though at least she had the sense to sit side-saddle instead of displaying her nether regions for the entire world to see. How she expected to fight from horseback like that was a different question, but from what Yan could see, none of the latecomers were all too concerned about winning the contest.

Just her luck, getting stuck with a team of fops and dandies here on a lark. They’d even stopped to buy several gourds of wine each, presumably why they were so late...

None of the latecomers moved to dismount or introduce themselves, instead chatting away and fawning over the young lady who feigned modesty but did everything she could to encourage their rivalry. None of them seemed to notice Yan and Sutah’s mutual displeasure, but seeing how Qiang voiced no objection, Yan held her tongue and waited for them to quiet down. Seizing a lull in their conversation, Yan smiled and saluted them in the spirit of mutual cooperation. “Well met, fellow officers. This one is -”

“Hmph.” The leading ponce interrupted her mid greeting with an audible sneer. “We know who you are, harlot.”

Looking down her nose as if presented with a pile of garbage, the woman drew back from Yan and said, “Taking advantage of an aged hero of the Empire, how disgusting.” Making of show of studying Yan’s horns and chest, she added, “Small wonder he never married. Who knew the celebrated Du Min Gyu would have such... unique tastes.”

Well, fuck cooperation. Before Yan could drag the leading ponce off his horse and slap him senseless, Qiang decided now was the time to speak up. “This one is Royal Guardian Qiang.” Finally taking notice of him, the latecomers remained mounted and nodded in reply, probably believing a mere soldier not worthy of their friendship. None of them offered their names, so Yan labelled them Ponces One through Three, and the woman earned the lofty designation of Floozy Prime.

Undeterred by their cold reception, Qiang explained the parameters of their mission in greater detail. The six of them were to escort him to a military outpost north of the city, where he would then pass on news of ‘vital military intelligence’. Why he couldn’t pass this intelligence off to someone in Nan Ping was a mystery, but Yan held her tongue and played along with the narrative. Qiang warned them there ‘might’ be attempts on his life, to which Ponce One snorted and said, “If one assassin comes, I will kill one, if ten comes, kill ten. This will be easy as turning my hand.”

Unable to help herself, Yan smiled and asked, “Did someone push your hairpins in too deep? This is an exercise, remember? Killing is forbidden.”

Fixing Yan with another sneer, he retorted, “Insolent cur. Do not think yourself unmatched just because you were awarded a rank for sparring with other children on stage. The younger generation seems to get worse each year, allowing an actual child to seize the title of Number one Talent in the Empire, much less two half-beasts within the top three. An utter disgrace.”

Ponces Two and Three uttered their agreements and offered to put Yan in her place should she get ‘uppity’, and she just smiled and prayed they’d find the courage to make a move. Ignoring their threats and disrespect, Qiang asked if anyone had any questions, and Sutah spoke up. “Map?”

At least now Yan knew Sutah was consistent with his monosyllabic utterances.

“I do not have one,” Qiang replied, voice wooden and flat as if reading from a script, “but I have travelled there many a time. Go north along this Imperial Road until we reach the twenty-seventh stone marker, and our destination will be two hours directly east from there.”

Yan almost walked away right then and there, her spirits crushed at the prospect of travelling more than four hours on horseback. Longer considering how packed the roads were, with so many wagons and workers flowing in and out of Nan Ping in a desperate attempt to keep millions of soldiers fed and happy. If not for the possibility of promotion by one rank, Yan might very well have given up, but as Ponce One and Floozy Prime so helpfully demonstrated, her disastrous performance on stage and new promotion were hardly enough to silence the rumours stirred up by Grandpa’s horrible relatives. A few years ago, a twenty year old Warrant Officer Third Grade would have been the talk of the province, but Falling Rain recently set a new standard for outstanding, overshadowing any and all of Yan’s exploits.

Even after a year and half apart, Rain still frustrated Yan to no end.

“If there are no other questions, then it’s best we leave now.” Playing his role with all the charisma of a rock, Qiang once again stressed, “The information I bear is of the utmost importance, and concerns the safety of Nan Ping itself. Many would seek to silence me and stop this information from reaching the right ears.”

“Very well.” Still putting on airs, Ponce One fancied himself in command and said, “Mount up. Let’s get this over with.”

Resisting the urge to challenge his authority, Yan pulled herself back onto the horse and reminded herself why she was here. She needed to prove her worth and silence the wagging tongues of Central, showing everyone she deserved to be Grandpa Du’s Terminal Disciple and shift public opinion to their side. As for being his Granddaughter, they could all eat shit. What business was it of theirs if Grandpa Du wanted to take her in as family? She loved the old man like a father and only his stubborn insistence regarding his old age kept her from calling him as such.

Then again, she didn’t have to prove anything, especially after Grandpa was tapped by the Legate to carry out some super secretive mission. He couldn’t say what he’d be doing, but he’d been so excited, he’d ignored all decorum and exited in style by leaping off the Ryo Family balcony.

Someday, she too would fly through the skies and never have to ride a horse ever again...

Taking his place as their glorious leader, Ponce One led Ponces Two, Three, and Floozy Prime away, leaving Qiang, Yan, and Sutah in their wake. Shaking her head with an amused grin, Yan awkwardly manoeuvred her horse to Qiang’s left while Sutah mirrored her actions on his right, the optimal setup for both of them to defend their ward. Sitting in place until Yan gestured for him to follow, Qiang behaved exactly as a merchant would, neither taking the lead nor eager to leave his escort’s side as they led him to the road.

Unfamiliar with travel protocol, Ponce One tried lead them onto the side of the Imperial Road reserved for Military and noble use, but quickly discovered Qiang did not have the proper token of authority required to use them. After a brief argument with the guards, during which he invoked his father’s name no less than four times, a shame-faced Ponce One wandered over to the ‘peasant’ side of the road, much to Yan’s delight. She’d long since spotted another group of contestants with their ward on the slower moving side of the road, and was only too happy to let Ponce One humiliate himself to no end. Sutah and Qiang hardly seemed amused, but Yan’s smile couldn’t be any wider despite the less than ideal circumstances.

The minutes passed in arduous silence as their party proceeded at a slow and steady pace, bogged down by the steady stream of traffic also headed in the same direction. Most were on foot or riding in wagons, and while Yan kept an eye on the other riders, she noted they were all fellow contestants stuck in the same situation. If an ‘assassin’ wanted to remain hidden, they’d have to proceed on foot, which meant any one of these travellers could be waiting to strike as they passed. Voicing her opinions, she asked Sutah to watch on those travellers moving in the same direction, while Yan accepted the more difficult task of watching those moving South.

The other four were less than useless, driving forward with no regard for anyone’s safety, be it their own, their ward’s, or even their fellow travellers. Still, it wasn’t overly difficult keeping watch, and Yan fell back on an old hunter’s trick to remain focused for hours on end. The trick was to let your mind relax, but not wander, mentally listing anything and everything of interest without committing your mind to it. A moving branch, and rustling leaf, the howl of wind, or the call of a bird, it kept your mind active without overtaxing it, a sort of tranquil focus in which one sought nothing, but found everything.

A gruff man who might be reaching for a weapon hidden in his waistband, an elderly woman who might be rummaging through a chest for a bow, a wandering apothecary in a little too much of a rush, Yan noted anyone and everyone who might be a threat and let her body respond without thinking. It was all meaningless of course, the gruff man was merely scratching his balls, the elderly woman looking for a parasol, and the apothecary likely rushing to save a life, but it never hurt to be cautious. Even then, after ninety minutes of butt-numbing travel, Yan was fast approaching the limits of her patience.

This was ridiculous. How was any of this supposed to prove her worth? A boring, event-less ride to the nearest military outpost and back, how taxing indeed.

Then again, she might as well thank the Mother for small favours. Yan shuddered to think how her poor posterior would fare at any pace faster than a walk. Besides, the trip wasn’t entirely in vain; Yan watched with a grin as Ponce One had his purse stolen and saddlebags rummaged through from right beneath his nose, and when the lovely young she-thief noticed she’d been caught, Yan merely winked and waved the girl away, all too happy to let the idiot young noble suffer a loss.

Upon reaching the twenty-seventh marker, Qiang helpfully reminded Ponce One that the outpost was due east, even though Yan was prepared to quietly leave them behind. Her actions didn’t escape Ponce One’s notice, but she merely smiled and continued on her way, scanning the cobbled stone path and surrounding grasslands for signs of danger or ambush. A pointless endeavour, for any ambush could be spotted from a kilometre away, but still she kept her guard up.

In spite of her protesting groin, Yan picked up the pace in hopes of reaching their destination and whatever Qiang had planned for them a little sooner. Ultimately, her hopes were dashed along with what remained of her pelvis as they arrived at the outpost without incident or excitement. Dreading the ride back, she stayed at Qiang’s side as they joined a line of contestants waiting outside the gates, where the Royal Guardian who’d given a speech earlier today was evaluating each team’s progress.

Spotting a familiar head of curly red hair at the front of the line, Yan yearned to head over, say hello, and explain her actions to Mila. It’s not that she didn’t want to meet or speak to them, but she couldn’t. Already, Grandpa’s family claimed Yan was a Northern puppet here to steal Du Family wealth and power, so it was best for everyone involved if they stayed apart. Unfortunately, for those very reasons, Yan couldn’t head over and chat with Mila, or respond to any of their letters, or even be seen riding Shana or Zabu.

Mila would understand, right?

“What?” The incredulous utterance came from one of Mila’s companions, his face turning red with anger. “We all completed the same challenge on the same team, so why does she pass,” he asked, pointing at Mila, “while the three of us fail?

With a sigh, the lead Guardian rolled his eyes and answered, “Your goal was to escape pursuit and bring news of an imminent rebellion to this outpost, correct? So why, despite Captain Sumila’s protests, did you stop and challenge your pursuers to single combat?” Without waiting for an answer, the Guardian continued. “Then, not only did all three of you lose to your opponents, you also tried to escape during Captain Sumila’s bout, despite being ‘incapacitated’ or dead. You only succeeded because she defeated all six pursuers in massed combat, led you all away, and saw off two more attacks and an ambush using nothing but her bow.” Nodding at Mila in appreciation, he added, “This one commends you on your skill and restraint. Even blunted arrows can cause grave injury, but the worst injury your pursuers suffered was a blow to their pride. Captain Sumila, I invite you to enter the outpost. The rest of your team may return to Nan Ping.”

Beaming with joy, Mila held her head up in pride and led Atir into the outpost while her three teammates slinked away. Happy as Yan was for her friend, she couldn’t help but wonder why Mila’s test was so much more exciting than her own.

When it came time for Yan’s group to be judged, Qiang greeted the Guardian with a salute, while Yan and Sutah followed suit. Ponce One not only failed to salute, he even had the audacity to step forward and point at the Guardian. “What is the meaning of this,” he demanded, waving his finger at the Guardian. “Our contest was – ow, ow, owie, owwwww!”

The last was uttered as the Royal Guardian grabbed hold of Ponce One’s finger and wrenched it about, dropping the pampered dandy to his knees while his face contorted in pain. Ignoring his cries, the Royal Guardian nodded at Qiang and said, “Report.”

“These four,” Qiang said, pointing out everyone aside from Yan and Sutah, “Fail. Throughout our journey, they drank four gourds of wine and died a total of seventeen times.”

“What?”

“Your clothing,” Qiang replied, not bothering to even spare Floozy One a glance. “The assassins marked you with red chalk each time they approached.” Gesturing at Ponce One, Qiang added, “This one was so inept, the assassins even helped themselves to his food, wine, and coin without his notice.”

A sinking feeling settled into the pit of Yan’s stomach as the lead Guardian asked, “And these other two?”

“Both demonstrated sufficient awareness in identifying threats, but displayed a complete lack of leadership qualities. She,” Qiang said, gesturing at Yan, “Caught one assassin rummaging through her comrade’s things and waved the culprit off, while he behaved like a subordinate the entire time. This one believes neither one suitable for promotion at this time, and thus recommend both be failed.”

Well... fuck.

“Disappointing,” the lead Guardian said, his eyes focused on Yan. “I had high hopes for this one. A rare talent, even if brought back to the homeland. Did she have reason to let the assassin off?”

“Children’s games,” Qiang replied. “Barbs were thrown, but an officer of a thousand must rise above such things, or settle them with an iron fist.”

“Would it be too late to smack him around now?” Yan asked, smiling wryly at the lost opportunity. “And if so, would you mind terribly if I still did it regardless?”

With a bark of laughter, the lead Guardian shook his head. “No need. I deem Qiang’s judgment too harsh. Leadership is easily taught, but vigilance and caution much more difficult to instill. Both of you pass. Warrant Officer Du Min Yan and Captain Sutah, I invite you both to enter.” Glaring at Ponce One, whose finger was still caught in his grasp, the Royal Guardian said, “As for the rest of you, scram.”

As she sauntered into the outpost, Yan couldn’t help but smirk over her shoulder as her former teammates scrambled away from the irate Guardian, a cloud of dust thrown up in the wake of their retreat. When she faced forward once again, she found Mila standing in front of her with arms crossed and smile cold. Speaking through bared teeth, the irate red-panda uttered, “I like your horse, so pretty and tall. I hope his speed will keep you safe in the days to come.” Shooting the creature a glare as if it had personally offended her, Mila stalked off without another word while sweet Atir followed behind.

Her good cheer slipping away, Yan sighed and resigned herself to fate. Even if she corrected the misunderstanding, there was little chance for Yan to take the victory to begin with.

For competing against her was the true number one talent of the Empire, Sumila of the People, a woman so far above her, Yan didn’t even deserve to call herself a rival.