Chapter 350

Sorry for late ch, no internets :'(

Here it is tho.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jJcmrEwRuMNYqoYwo2y3-mSbtCVO-ZmIJEMBDTAX-R4/edit?usp=sharing

I find it amusing that despite all her talk of courtesy and customs, Luo-Luo is so starstruck she almost forgets to curtsy for the Legate. She has plenty of book smarts but is completely lacking in real life experience, a caged songbird seeing the world for the very first time. Then again, in her defence, the Legate is rather handsome and dignified, rocking a neat man-bun and a clean-shaven look which shows off his strong jawline and fair features. His vibrant ‘casual’ robes makes my second best set of clothes look plain and muted in comparison, and even though he sits at ease, it’s hard not to notice his broad shoulders and muscular chest hidden beneath the folds of embroidered silk, a built on good genetics, proper nutrition, and a whole lot of hard work.

Plus he’s tall.

Holding back my tears of jealousy, I utter the customary demeaning greeting alongside Yuzhen and Akanai. “Ten thousand years of boundless longevity upon the Emperor. Imperial Servant greets Imperial Legate.”

“Dispense with formalities,” the Legate responds, gesturing at the chairs. “Be seated.”

My ass is half-way to the chair when Yuzhen responds, her head still bowed in deference. “Imperial Servant does not dare.”

Fucking courtesy B.S. Frozen mid-stride, I stand like an idiot while the Legate and Yuzhen do their little song and dance. He insists we make ourselves comfortable and she says we don’t deserve the honour, then he puts his foot down and she reluctantly agrees. It’s all bullshit and delays me from sitting for a good five seconds, during which my thigh cramps up from the awkward position. When I finally get to sit down and relax, with Akanai in the middle and Yuzhen to the left, I realize there’s nowhere for Luo-Luo to sit. After a second’s thought, I decide to leave it be as it was probably done on purpose and my new concubine seems content to stand off to the side and sneak glances at the oh-so-handsome Legate. Bet she wishes he kept her for himself. They’d make a lovely couple, what with them both being gorgeous and of similar height. Hmph. What’s so great about being tall anyways? I’m compact, efficient, and my clothes are cheaper because it takes less fabric to make them.

So what if I have to shop in the teen’s section? It’s all the same tailor-made clothes anyways, and I’ll probably ruin them within a day.

The old Seneschal pours three cups of tea for us and stands at out back while Yuzhen makes polite conversation with the Legate. In the mean time, I do my best not to fall asleep and wonder what I’d look like with a man-bun. Awesome I bet, but then I’d have to brush and style my hair every day. Besides, it takes deceptively long hair to pull off something like that, which means it’d be at least two years of looking terrible before reaching sexy man-bun status. I could dress nicer too, but I hate robes. They’re not simple and easy at all. There’s the inner-robe, which is like your typical comfy house robe and not so bad, but then there’s the outer-robes, which is where things start to get complicated. It’s not always a robe per-se, sometimes it’s a vest, or a long coat, or even a shirt, but it’s always elaborate, shiny, and in a different colour from the under-robes. Then there’s the sash, which ties the whole outfit together, both literally and figuratively, and hangs down in front of the legs like a flat, flaccid silk dick.

Nice as it all looks, it seems like a lot of trouble to put on every day even if you exclude all the other attachments like cloth shoulder pads, ornamental, detachable collars, and fancy hats and hair pins. Plus, how would I even fight while wearing those layers? I’d probably trip on my robes and impale myself by accident. No, tight shirt and slim pants are the way to go.

Though there’s something enticing about sporting a giant silk dick...

After exchanging an appropriate amount of small talk, the Legate puts down his teacup and I copy Yuzhen and do the same, though Akanai drains hers first before following suit. A power move, I guess, subtle, but telling. I don’t understand what message she’s trying to convey, whether it’s displeasure at the Legate’s lack of response to the repeated attempts on my life or showing she isn’t intimidated by his rank and nobility. Who knows, maybe she’s just thirsty and wanted to finish her tea, subtle is complicated. Either way, the Legate appears unperturbed by my Mother-in-Law’s unhurried demeanour, waiting until her cup rests firmly on the table before turning to me with a smirk. “So, yet another attempt has been made on your life, at a banquet in honour of your new concubine, no less. How inauspicious.”

Without looking, I can feel Luo-Luo tensing up at the Legate’s words, probably reading too much into them and flying into a panic like she does so often. “This one puts little faith in portents and omens. Considering how quickly we rushed things into place, my enemies most certainly already had their pieces in play, and the banquet merely provided them with the opportunity to strike.”

“Have you determined who was behind the attack?”

After a quick glance at Akanai to confirm, I shake my head and sigh. “Not yet, but we have people working on it.” Work I’d rather not be privy to.

With narrowed eyes, the Legate’s smile turns from smarmy to scary, displeased by my unknown assailants. “Hmph. How daring, I’ll see to it the perpetrators suffer to the full extent of the law. Send word once you have a likely suspect in mind, someone with means and motivation aplenty. I’ve ordered the Magistrate to lend whatever aid you require and punished for his lack of security in hiring servants.”

“Do not plead for mercy on behalf of the Magistrate.” Yuzhen’s Sending arrives just in time and I swallow my words. “The sentence has already been carried out and an appeal will only put you at odds with the Legate. Just smile and thank him.”

So complicated. “This one thanks Imperial Legate for his support in these trying times.”

“Nonsense.” With a grin which makes him look even younger than he already does, he adds, “I’m only doing what’s expected. I couldn’t possibly sit by while someone tries to assassinate the newest member of the Imperial Clan. The Emperor, Blessed be His Name, would have my head for it.”

Oh right. “This one thanks -”

“I.”

“Uh... Sorry?”

“I.” Pointing at me with his fan, the Legate mock reprimands my actions. “You’re of Imperial Peerage now, which means you are no longer to refer to yourself as ‘this one’. ‘I’ when conversing with your lessers and in informal settings such as ours, and ‘Imperial Consort’ when in formal settings.”

Finally, something good comes of this whole mess, though I’m still not thrilled about being called ‘Imperial Consort’. Might as well call myself ‘Imperial Manwhore’. “Then I thank the Legate for this great honour, though I worry I’ve done nothing to deserve it.” Gotta be humble, plus I have no idea what he wants in return.

Seeing through my attempt to play coy, the Legate smiles and says, “I must admit, I had my eye on you even before I arrived. A young hero hailing from parts unknown who stumbled across a nefarious Defiled plot, who then went on to play a pivotal role in Sanshu’s defence and Butcher Bay’s downfall. Yo Ling’s Bane, one playwright called you, a rising young dragon bound for heights unknown.”

Damn, that sounds awesome. “Exaggeration and hyperbole. At best, I played a supporting role throughout the entire ordeal. Magistrate Chu Tongzu and the united people of Sanshu are the true heroes.”

“I believed the same until I looked into the situation for myself. While the others played their parts well, you were pivotal to the defence of the region. Without your report of a Defiled outbreak, Yo Ling’s attack on Sanshu would have gone unnoticed, suppressed by the Traitor Mao Jianghong and his corrupt allies of the Golden Highland’s Coalition. Victory would have been theirs without anyone the wiser, an entire city lost to the Enemy in these desperate times. Even if word got out, there wouldn’t have been enough time to muster a force to save Sanshu. Had things proceeded as they did, Yo Ling would be free to run rampant through the north while it’s soldiers were here in Nan Ping, leaving the Empire divided as soldiers flocked home to defend their loved ones. A most disastrous outcome, wouldn’t you say?”

“... I suppose, but it was dumb luck. I was in the wrong place at the right time, and things just fell into place.”

“True, but luck is a strength all on it’s own, for what is luck except for the Mother’s favour smiling down upon you? Intrigued, I continued looking into you, and I must say, you are most certainly loved by the Mother. Finding such great fortune in the Society’s bi-decennial Contest you’re forced to flee for your lives and narrowly escape death due to Martial Law. This buys you time and you head to the front lines in the battle against the Defiled, where your strength grows by leaps and bounds and eventually, you defeat the Society’s greatest young talents in successive duels.”

The Legate continues regaling me with tales of my glories, neither downplaying nor overstating my part in matters and just sticking to the facts. How I arrived at Sanshu with a hundred captured bandits and went on to capture hundreds more. How I faced off against assassins sent by Sanshu’s merchant Council and emerged unscathed, then defended a crucial fishing region from the Red Devil Gao Qiu. How I exposed Laughing Dragon and clashed with the Shrike, warned the Azure Ascendants and rallied the Mother’s Militia to aid us, then went on to personally kill multiple high ranking members of the Butcher Bay Bandits in the battle for Sanshu. My final blow on the Demon Bei, being present for Yo Ling’s death, and even how I raided Butcher Bay’s hideout, it seems like the Legate has memorized all my greatest hits.

Which I guess makes him my biggest fan. Weird.

After pausing to drink a cup of tea, the Legate continues, “When you arrived in Nan Ping with the Divine Turtle in tow, I knew my guess was right. You are truly beloved by the Mother, and thus, I made my opinion of you and your people known, but that wasn’t enough. Your victory over your peers today gave me the excuse I needed to offer even more support, but it seems not even the title of Imperial Consort is enough to keep you safe.” With a wry smile, he shakes his head and sighs. “Were it not for the Divine Guardian’s desire to go swimming each day, I’d have you brought in to the Magistrate’s Palace and kept under watch, but otherwise, I fear there’s nothing more I can do at this juncture.”

Touching story. Too bad I don’t buy a word of it. It could be because Ping-Ping doesn’t like him, but I suppose it could also be because I was just poisoned and am now suspicious of everyone and everything. Besides, it seems like a pretty flimsy excuse. He’s my fan and thinks I’ll make it big, so he does something no one in history has ever done before? Not likely. Plus, what the fuck? Why doesn’t anyone appreciate my book? Even if it was just the banking part, I thought my brains would be enough to win me a ticket into some stupid Clan. “Imperial Legate has already done more than enough. If I still can’t keep myself alive, then I’ve no right to call myself the Undying.”

Honestly, the name’s starting to grow on me. The Undying and Unrivalled Beneath Heaven, Falling Rain.

Yea that’s me. Wassup?

“Haha, the confidence of youth.” Not something I wanna hear from someone who looks like he’s in his late twenties, early thirties at most. “Now, you had something you wanted to bring to my attention?”

Finally. Turning to Yuzhen for support, she requests the Legate allow Jorani and his boys in, though in a much more formal fashion. Carrying a bundle of cloth, Jorani looks ill at ease as he enters the room, as do Jinoe and Ronga who are hot on his heels. Striding in without a care in the world, Siyar casually glances around the room as if he’s here to sight-see, but nothing escapes his sharp gaze as he notes the layout and exits like a proper soldier should.

Or, you know, a trapped thief. Either or.

With the Legate’s permission, Jorani rattles off a rehearsed rendition of his adventures at the winery, which immediately puts a frown on the Legate’s face. Hmm, in retrospect, maybe he wasn’t giving me tacit permission to go after the Canston Trading Group outside of Nan Ping. Oh well, too late now. With input from Siyar who details his time alone in the warehouse, and Ronga’s stump which Akanai made me leave unhealed for this very reason, Jorani’s tale soon comes to an end, but the Legate’s mood has yet to improve. Lips pursed in a frown, he says, “There is no crime committed here, not anything of note. You say this... weapon dissolves cloth, stone, vegetation, and flesh, but what of it? If the Canston Trading Group truly has an entire warehouse full of it, then I say good! We could use another tool in our battle against the Defiled.”

And then it clicks. The Defiled. The Piggies. Expert piggies who use their skills to torture and torment. Ugly Expert piggies, which is impossible. Chi makes people pretty so ugly Experts means Defiled. The Piggies are Defiled! Which means all the torture was to turn slaves Defiled! Now these Defiled Piggies have a warehouse full of Demonized, flesh-melting goop. Stone-melting too, which explains the reports from the border forts and Shen Mu about walls crumbling to dust!

Hot damn! I solved it! Take that past me! Who’s the idiot now? I’m the smartest man alive!

In my excitement, it takes a few tries to get my thoughts into words that everyone can understand, but once I make my point, the mood in the room grows dark. “Audacious!” Slamming the table, the Legate’s handsome face twists in anger. “Zhu Chanzui, wash your neck and wait. I’ll have your head for this!”

Seizing the opportunity, I stand and clasp my fist. “Imperial Legate will want to secure the Canston Trading Group’s cache of Unholy weapons. Warrant Officer Falling Rain requests to join the expedition.”

“Denied. Leave the evidence behind. Speak not a word of this to anyone, under threat of death! Dismissed.”

Shit.

As we file out into the hallway and back to the antechamber where Ping-Ping awaits, Akanai explains the Legate’s abrupt dismissal through Sending. “It is common knowledge you have a grudge against the Canston Trading Group, so you cannot be present when the Legate assaults one of their properties. They’re backed by Zhu Chanzui, and thus we must adhere to the law else he might claim we’ve broken the Treaty and targeted him unjustly.”

“What’s the Treaty?”

“...An agreement between the Empire and creatures of power which keeps everyone in check through threat of mutually assured destruction. Ask no more, for this is all I know.”

Hmm. Fun.

The rest of the trip back to camp is spent in silence as I revel over the justification of my boundless hatred of piggies and mohawks. It might not be enough to end Big Poppa Piggy, but with proof of their misdeeds, the Canston Trading Group will be dead and gone by the end of the week.

How sweet it is...

The Death Corps park the palanquin right outside my door, and by the time I step out, Ping-Ping is already burrowed in for the night. Strange turtle. Won’t let me take a bath indoors but is happy to let me go meet with the Legate. Probably because she already got what she wanted, the pervert. Patting her beak goodnight, I count the bunbuns in their enclosure and the sleeping birds on the roof, mostly for my own peace of mind. With all pets accounted for, I head back to my yurt for a well-deserved rest after the longest day of my life.

“Lord Husband?” Arms crossed and shoulders slumped, Luo-Luo looks so scared and vulnerable standing beneath the moonlight, but more importantly, between me and my yurt where sweet, precious sleep is to be found. “Might we speak in private for a moment? Luo-Luo has something important to reveal.”

I’ll bet set does. “We’ll talk in the morning.” Her intentions are obvious and my self-control non-existent. If she made a move on me in the yurt, I’d have been all over her for about three seconds before blowing my load and falling asleep.

As I try to step around her, Luo-Luo moves to block my way and I’ve forced to stop before I crash into her pillowy breasts. Mm, I’d love to sink my face into them and fall asleep... “But Lord Husband,” she whines, probably all to aware of what I’m staring at. “It’s Luo-Luo’s wedding night...”

“Sorry, but I told you earlier, there’s no need for this. Look, I’m exhausted and would really like to sleep now. We’ll talk in the morning okay? Li Song moved into Mila’s yurt, so you have the place all to yourself. It’s right over there -”

My words fall on deaf ears as Luo-Luo flares with anger, finally showing her true, petulant nature. Turning around, she moves to enter my yurt uninvited, but unfortunately for her, while yurt doors don’t lock, they do latch, and there’s a trick to opening them that isn’t apparent at first glance. While she jiggles away at the doorknob, I glance around in search of help, but Jorani and the others have scampered off and I don’t feel right asking the Death Corps to drag her away. For once, I could use the monk’s help, but he’s been curiously absent for most of the day and I have no idea where he is now. Strange, considering we’re supposed to have our hour long debate where he tries to convert me to his ways.

I mean... a gorgeous woman who I am technically married to wants to do the horizontal tango. Not exactly the worst problem in the world. Besides, it is our wedding night...

“Ah ha!” Luo-Luo’s triumphant declaration wakes me from my stupor as she figures out how to open the latch. Watching her voluptuous body straining against her oh-so-tiny dress, my heart-beat speeds up at the prospect of sex. It’s been so long since I’ve been with a woman, and while I feel guilty for wanting to sleep with someone besides Mila or Lin, they both insist on waiting until after marriage which won’t be for another year or two. I’m a man, a man with needs, and if Luo-Luo is willing, then I don’t see why we can’t...

The door bursts open and Luo-Luo falls back with a shriek as fangs and fury come barrelling out, snarling and hissing up a storm. Catching her before she falls, I tilt my head at the familiar shape and stench before my tired brain finally clicks and the pieces fall into place once more. “Zabu!” I cry, unceremoniously hoisting Luo-Luo to her feet before leaving to go greet my first quin. “Hiya buddy. Remember me? It’s been so long, gimme a hug.”

Rearing up at the sound of my voice, Zabu bares his teeth and gives me a few experimental sniffs. With a throaty grunt of acknowledgement, he turns around and disappears back into the yurt, without so much as a scritch or boop. Flooded with disappointment, I tell myself that’s just how Zabu is, an unfriendly battle quin who doesn’t like hugs, grooming, or apparently long-anticipated reunions. It’s okay. I’m not hurt or anything. I just got some dirt in my eye, is all. I’m so tired I can’t stop yawning, and all these tears keep leaking -

Emerging from the yurt, Zabu dumps two large, furry bundles into my arms and rushes back inside with a squeak and a chirp. Glancing down at my unexpected gift, I find two otter-sized roosequins staring back, their little roosequin feet sticking up in the air as they nuzzle into my arms. Slowly dropping to my knees, I coo in delight at the sweet baby quins, marvelling at their soft, dense fur and how completely at ease they are in the arms of a stranger. They trust their daddy and know he’d never deliver them to someone dangerous, don’t they? Yes they do. Yes they dooo. Returning with two more pups in his arms and Shana carrying a third, Zabu arranges his babies around me and sits back proudly, his head held high as if to say, ‘Look at what I made’, and I inwardly squee in delight.

Wait... if they’re here... does that mean Yan’s waiting inside?

“Luo-Luo, go back to your yurt. We’ll talk in the morning.” Giving her no time to argue, I bring the pups back inside with Zabu and Shana’s help, my lips stretched in a smile while I wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. “Yan?” I whisper, not wanting Luo-Luo to overhear. “You there?”

Silence is my answer and after a bit of exploration, I open the door and ask for a torch from one of the Death Corps standing guard. To my great disappointment, the torch reveals my yurt is empty but for me and the seven quins, with no gorgeous, luscious-lipped, peach-butted Yan waiting naked beneath my covers. Or you know, at all. She doesn’t have to be naked. Though it would be nice is she were. And here. But she’s not.

Why not? Is it because I’m so late getting back? Why did she bring Zabu and Shana here? Was it just so I could meet the pups, or is there more to this?

Laying down on the floor, I arrange all five pups in a pile on and around me and at their sleepy little faces as they snuggle into my chest. Zabu and Shana settle down beside me, and I wait for sleep to come while staring at the most adorable little faces in the world.

Whatever, this is good too. Floof is love, floof is life.