Chapter 566 v1.0 unedited unmemed (Patreon)

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1zBs1QLFETVp0FQz0bZv7brnLYwx28ur0mg-LP9O3OKo/edit?usp=sharing

Born and raised in Central’s Nan Ping, Yo Shi-Woo was undoubtedly biased towards his home province, but even he had to admit the Northerners knew how to make an entrance.

Riding at the head of the ten-thousand soldier convoy was the highest ranking officer in the Northern Imperial Army, Situ Nian Zu. A hundred-years-old and a hero amongst heroes, the grizzled veteran made for an impressive sight in his ebony armour, with its gold trim and his flowing cloak accentuating his heroic figure. Seated atop his obsidian horse, he gazed out at the crowd from beneath his open-faced helm, so stern and austere it quieted their cheers, for this was a man who fought not for honour and glory, but for duty itself.

Trailing almost twenty meters behind him was the soldiers of the North. Much like their commander, these warriors were clad in dark armour and darker cloaks, all of which lent an air of menace and foreboding to the foreign soldiers. The colours were chosen for other reasons, as the burnished steel armour favoured by the warriors of Central would be all but impossible to pick out amidst the ivory snow so commonly seen in the North, and cloaks were necessary to keep the soldiers alive. Practicality over appearance, a chilling fact which rang true in every facet of their demeanour. There were no blaring horns or beating drums, no marching chants or proclaiming heralds as a Colonel General from Central might employ, only a single man sitting atop his behemoth mount, accompanied by the stomping cadence of thousands of boots marching in lockstep through the gates.

Such natural coordination came about from either years of practice or decades of experience, and in this case, it was clearly the latter. Veterans one and all, these soldiers cut their teeth defending the Northern Wall from Defiled invasions, and now they were here to defend Central, and they would do so with brutal efficiency. Overall, the message was far from subtle, but exceedingly effective, especially with Nian Zu riding out in front without guards or escorts to obscure him. From Shi-Woo’s place atop the platform, built to welcome these Northern heroes, he saw that the gathered crowd was both intimidated and relieved. Intimidated because Nian Zu was a formidable man of almost peerless power, a career soldier and Peak Expert who struck a blow against an Enemy Divinity and lived to tell the tale. Relieved because if they found this man and his elite veterans intimidating, then think how the Defiled must feel facing them on the field of battle.

This was confidence, plain and simple, and Shi-Woo quietly applauded Nian Zu’s efforts. It was easy to see why so many decorated officers called him the North’s Shuai Jiao, for they were two men cut from the same cloth. Honourable and ethical, some would say, stubborn and intractable to others, but however one framed it, they were both men of principle. Unlike Shuai Jiao, however, Nian Zu was finally dipping his toe into politics, having thrown the full weight of his support behind the Bekhai, and today’s entrance had been tailor made to show it.

Forget Shuai Jiao, even Mitsue Juichi and Ryo Dae Jung wouldn’t have risked riding out alone and exposed just so peasants could gawk at them, no matter what goodwill the gesture might’ve earned them...

Still, unrivalled though Nian Zu may be when it came to soldiering, Shi-Woo could easily see that the Colonel General was a complete novice at politics, but then again, he’d known as much for years. Riding in the centre of his soldiers were Nian Zu’s Famed Fifty, his honour guard of Peak Experts of humble descent, all arranged to escort Nian Zu’s guests to the banquet. Next to the Colonel General’s bold entrance, the overabundance of guards made his guests look timid in comparison, but politically, this was merely a minor blunder compared to their actual identities. Shi-Woo knew most of these young warriors by name and reputation, but this would be his first time meeting any of them in person, so he took the time to study them as they rode up to greet him, or rather, to greet Yo Jeong-Hun, Central’s Marshal and host of Sinuji’s celebratory banquet.

Closest behind Nian Zu and riding in the centre of his peers was Situ Jia Zian, a fellow clansman and outcast with much in common with the Colonel General himself. A fitting parallel, to have these two black sheep riding so close together, and with the younger Situ Clansman poised as the leader of his peers to boot, but name, circumstances, and positioning aside, the two men were nothing alike. As the Mother’s Chosen Warriors, all Martial Warriors were handsome or beautiful to some degree, but where Nian Zu was a rugged, masculine warrior with broad shoulders and a barrel chest, Jia Zian was a slim and dainty pretty boy who fit right in with those worthless fops so commonly found at brothels and gambling dens. To make matters worse, where Nian Zu’s colours were black and gold, Jia Zian was dressed in silver and white, from the flowing mane on his tasselled helm to his shiny, silver boots adorning his feet, and even his pure white stallion armoured in burnished steel barding. Young Zian could not have done more to highlighted the differences between himself and the Living Legend, and it was a pompous decision which did him no favours, for the former young patriarch of the Situ Clan had long since been painted as a debauched popinjay who deserved to be displaced as heir to the Clan.

It physically pained Shi-Woo to see this missed opportunity in action, for it would have taken almost no effort at all to paint young Zian in Nian Zu’s colours and hold him up as a prospective successor, but now the chance was lost, as first impressions were hard to break. Half the Citadel’s population had turned out to receive the Northern Delegation, lined up on the streets and rooftops between here and Nian Zu’s quarters in the heart of the Citadel, and every one of them would bear witness to the glaring disparity between Situ Nian Zu, a man who fought tooth and nail to reach his current staggering heights, and Situ Jia Zian, who looked nothing more than like an entitled dandy riding on the Colonel General’s coat-tails.

Nothing could be further from the truth, of course, for young Zian was a fearsome duellist and able commander in his own right, but the huddled masses cared not for facts or information and made snap judgments based on appearance alone. Were this not the case, Nian Zu would have never become the man he was today, for his appearance alone was enough to stamp out the early ‘rumours’ of his ‘deviant sexual preferences’. In the eyes of the public, Nian Zu was far too heroic and masculine to prefer the company of men, as if that somehow made a difference, causing any and all attempts to spread the truth and ruin his reputation to fall hopelessly flat.

Amusingly enough, despite young Zian’s sordid history of lecherous delights, there were rumours floating about that Falling Rain conquered him on the battlefield and in the bedroom as well, a tale spread by tittering young women and jealous young men alike. Such was life and politics, in which appearance mattered more than facts.

Laughable as all this might be, Zian’s appearance alone was enough for Shi-Woo to write him off as a lost cause, especially with the gallant and heroic looking Han BoShui riding directly beside him, with his signature tiger pauldrons in reference to his old reputation as the Paper Tiger of the Han Clan. Where Zian had fallen from his pedestal to follow in Nian Zu’s footsteps as an outcast, BoShui persevered and overcame his failings to become the young patriarch in truth, and now he had the full support of his Clan behind him. Unfortunately, this meant less now than it would have a year ago, because the Society of Heaven and Earth was no longer the united powerhouse it once was. A large part of this was due to BoShui himself, because by supporting him, the Han Clan was also indirectly supporting the Bekhai, which led to fracturing amongst the unified forces of the Society. Many still remembered the shameful loss of face dealt to them by the Bekhai and Falling Rain in particular, which made many of the Han Clan’s allies shift their allegiance to the Situ Clan instead, the only remaining powerhouse amongst the Society who still stood against the Bekhai.

Internal politics aside, Han BoShui was the living embodiment of nobility itself, a stately young man whose mere presence exuded power and authority. A shame that he spent so much of his time extolling Falling Rain’s virtues, much like those lackeys found so commonly hanging around disreputable fops. Young BoShui truly admired Falling Rain and wanted to share his admiration, but it would have been better if he’d kept silent and let his actions speak for him instead. Had he done so, then the people of the Empire would see him stand by Falling Rain and think, “Perhaps there’s more to the Bekhai savage than we thought.” Instead, they heard him singing ridiculous praises and wondered, “What hold does the Bekhai savage have over poor, heroic BoShui?”

The next guest on Nian Zu’s list was almost entirely unknown, but between his half-wolf heritage and roosequin mount, any fool could see that the young man was of Bekhai origins. Huushal was the boy’s name, accompanied by his mother and Mentor Ghurda, whose recent exploits in Sinuji had garnered her some small amount of fame. More importantly, young Huushal’s heritage marked him as Major General Baatar’s half-brother by blood, unless the improbable had taken place and the Saint’s Tribulations Mountains housed not one, but two Ancestral Wolves. As such, the boy’s presence showed Nian Zu’s dedication to his Bekhai allies, bringing yet another of their young warriors with him to this most exclusive of banquets. More importantly, young Huushal was an imposing young man in his own right, almost shoulder to shoulder with the gargantuan BoShui despite being seated on a roosequin instead of a warhorse. With his pale, porcelain skin, bright, silver hair, and yellow, wolfish eyes, young Huushal made for an exotic sight, which had many a young maiden fluttering their eyes at the handsome, hulking young warrior.

Thus far, one could argue that these young men were not Nian Zu’s guests at all, and that they were only invited out of respect for their elders, namely Baatar, disgraced Lieutenant General Situ Jia Yang, and the unrecognized Major General, Han BoHai, all of whom worked closely with the Colonel General. Were it not for the remaining four guests, this argument might hold merit, but it was clear Nian Zu had purposely picked a group of promising young heroes to accompany him to the banquet, all of whom were affiliated with the Bekhai in some way, shape or form.

Such as Nian Zu’s fourth guest, Lin Ji Yeon, formerly Situ Ji Yeon, who at one point had been betrothed to current Situ Clan heir, Gulong. That all changed when Ji Yeon’s brother left her to die on the front lines, supposedly under Gulong’s orders no less, and their plot would have succeeded if not for Falling Rain’s intervention. A masterful counterstroke bringing her along, for not only was her adoptive father and maternal uncle, Lin Xiang Gu, a rich and powerful merchant with deep pockets and widespread influence worth courting for influence, the girl served as a living reminder of what the Situ Clan’s allies should expect from the overbearing Rang Min, to be used and cast aside once a better offer came along. Not only this, but Lin Ji Yeon’s presence was a weapon in and of itself, because even though her story would amount to nothing if brought before a Justicar, it would see Gulong and Rang Min crucified in the court of opinion and shamed before all their peers, allies, and the public in general.

Yet thus far, Ji Yeon had kept her silence, which meant Rang Min would have to tread lightly, and perhaps even keep young Gulong away from the banquet entirely. A brilliant move on Nian Zu’s part, no doubt suggested to him by the devious and distinguished Northern Marshal, Shing Yuzhen.

Which made Nian Zu’s last two guests all the more surprising. Whereas the other eight guests consisted of promising young warriors accompanied by prominent and powerful individuals, the last two were... unexceptional, to put it generously. Keeping to the theme of young heroes, Nian Zu invited Tong Da Fung along to the banquet, to be accompanied by his manservant, Fu Zhu Li. Truly a disgrace, bringing a manservant into this banquet, for there were wealthy nobles and decorated Major Generals who failed to make the guest list, but nobles were an eccentric bunch, and Tong Da Fung was no exception. Worse, there was no merit in bringing the boy with them, unless it was a request from his Mentor and leader of the Bekhai, Akanai. Fung’s military record was worse than non-existent, as it started and ended with a minor role in the battle of Sanshu, where he was promptly defeated by the traitor Dastan and subsequently removed from the rest of the battle. Considering the circumstances, Fung’s disgraceful defeat could easily be overlooked if not for his contemptible behaviour during the First Imperial Grand Banquet, where not only did he spend all his time flirting with every eligible young lady in sight, but he also actively avoided sparring with other young warriors of renown. Instead, he ‘randomly’ selected one challenge to answer every day, the bare minimum required not to be considered a coward, and then promptly defeated his opponents without mercy.

A foolish, brazen child of luxury, this Tong Da Fung. How could he not see that most of those challenges had been arranged by the fathers of the same young ladies he courted? Undisputed heirs to Magisterial offices were few and far between, so all he needed to do was accept the challenge and fight. Regardless of whether he won or lost the challenge, Fung would have undoubtedly been invited back to the family manor to ‘smooth things over’, but the boy couldn’t even do that much. To make matters worse, he fought the famed Ryo Geom-Chi to a draw in an impromptu restaurant duel on the same day he arrived in Nan Ping, which proved he was skilled enough to challenge the current members of the Hwarang. So why then, did he behave in such a dishonourable manner?

Despite his skills and status, Tong Da Fung’s actions painted him as a quintessential silk pants, and hardly the sort of man to raise as a shining example to all. That was Nian Zu’s goal here after all, to bring attention to the other young talents of the North, and while his intentions were good, Shi-Woo could not understand why Marshal Yuzhen, who proved herself to be a capable and astute civil servant, would allow the good Colonel General to make a blunder of such epic proportions. Following on the laurels of Falling Rain’s magnificent performance in Sinuji, coupled with rumours of his possible recovery and the attendance of every influential soldier and politician in the outer provinces, meant that this banquet might be the boy’s best and last chance to stand out and clear his good name. However, by inviting all these other young heroes to the banquet, it made it look like Nian Zu was trying to replace Falling Rain and raise a new young hero of the North.

That was the wrong message to send at such a delicate time, especially with Shi-Woo and Marshal Yuzhen working so desperately to have Falling Rain’s non-combat contributions recognized by the world at large. Cast iron alone had changed the face of the war, allowing the Empire to save so much time and resources whilst building the new Western Wall and devote more resources towards building up the first and second lines of defences. Cheap paper had also taken the world by storm, with new talented poets, playwrights, artists, and more being discovered each and every day, and this was only scratching the surface.

Except now, no one would remember Falling Rain’s other contributions and disregard the rumours of his recovery. The people of the Empire would see Nian Zu’s actions and think, “If this Living Legend is ready to cast Rain aside, then what hope of recovery could there possibly be?”

Hmph. Soldiers playing at politics was like giving swords to drunken children. A recipe for disaster. Better if Nian Zu left politics for the politicians, rather than blunder about like a bull in a porcelain shop.

Of course, Shi-Woo let none of his misgivings show as he warmly greeted the Colonel General and his guests on stage, paying extra attention to the most promising of the lot, Han BoShui. Lin Ji Yeon was both charming and polite, and Shi-Woo made a note to find out if Lin Xiang Gu was looking for prospective husbands for his adopted daughter. If so, then Shi-Woo’s sons might make an appropriate match, preferably Chong-Woo. Sung-Hoon was the same age as the girl, but while he seemed happy to follow in his father’s footsteps and work with Falling Rain as his business advisor, setting him up with a warrior wife might be too much for his pride to handle.

Following closely behind Nian Zu’s soldiers was the lovely Marshal herself, brought in on a stately carriage led by her heroic husband, Lieutenant Colonel Gerel of the Bekhai. Her arrival was met with subdued cheers spurred on by Shi-Woo’s agents in the crowd, but Marshals and other civil servants were rarely well-received, since nobles and peasants alike loathed paying their taxes.

There was plenty of pomp and pageantry prepared, with speeches and smiles a plenty as Jeong-Hun welcomed the Colonel General and Northern Marshal warmly to the Central Citadel. Shi-Woo’s brother had a whole speech prepared which waxed on about unity, solidarity, and whatnot, as well as a long list of notable dignitaries to introduce, but Nian Zu promptly cut things short after merely two introductions. “Esteemed gentlemen, it has been a long and tiring journey,” he said, with a smile so faint it was barely visible, “So if we could table the introductions until another time? The sooner you show my soldiers to their billets, the sooner this old soldier can rest.”

A lesser man might think the Colonel General hasty and rude, but Jeong-Hun took Nian Zu’s gruff demeanour in stride and ordered his men to lead the soldiers away. Shi-Woo himself bristled at Nian Zu’s continued presence, because despite his curt dismissal, it seemed like the Colonel General intended to stand idly about, but again, Jeong-Hun took no offence and introduced the dignitaries to Marshal Yuzhen instead. This was why Jeong-Hun was the Marshal, and Shi-Woo didn’t even merit the rank of Lieutenant Marshal, but he never begrudged his older brother for his accomplishments, so he stood and smiled while the soldiers cleared the plaza and waited for the young hero to make his entrance.

Escorted by Death Corps and Khishig riders, Falling Rain’s carriages made their way through the gates and into the Central Citadel, followed by an inordinate number of wagons bearing what looked to be their personal possessions. The golden wood used to make the carriages were a nice touch, three of them to match the Legate’s three Zhengui palanquins, and they each bore exquisite craftsmanship, but Shi-Woo expected as much from someone as brilliant and discerning as Imperial Servant Zheng Luo. According to Sung-Hoon, most of his correspondence went through her, with Falling Rain overseeing things from a distance, which was the mark of a truly great man, for few understood the power of properly delegation of effort. Find good people to do good work and reward them appropriately, that was the true secret to mercantile success while retaining enough free time to actually enjoy it. Hard work and clever tactics only went so far, especially when working alone and unsupported, for one could not build an empire atop a single pillar, unless you were a god-given flesh like the First Emperor Himself.

And even He had the Five Supreme Warriors to assist Him, proving that even demi-gods understood the need to delegate.

As the carriage doors opened and Falling Rain disembarked, Shi-Woo marvelled once again at how appearances could be so deceiving. Dressed as he was in his fine silken shirt and dark-leather armour, one could easily mistake him for a novice soldier of middling wealth who had yet to see action. Who could believe that this unremarkable young man, with his cheery, bright-eyed smile and goofy menagerie of pets, was in fact the preeminent talent of his generation and a veteran of countless battles and skirmishes? Who could believe that he’d beaten back not one, but two million-strong armies of Defiled in utter defiance of the odds?

Like Shi-Woo said, first impressions were hard to break, and none more-so than Falling Rain’s.

“Uncle Yo,” young Rain began, giving face before so many of Shi-Woo’s peers and superiors by greeting him first. “It’s good to see you again. Come, let me introduce you to my family. Believe it or not, this lovely young lady here is my mother, Sarnai...”

A splendid start to his debut here in the Central Citadel, and much better than his initial one back in Nan Ping. Though Shi-Woo should by all rights interrupt Rain and insist he greet Jeong-Hun, Big Brother looked mildly amused by the boy’s antics and everyone else looked positively green with envy and regret, so Shi-Woo offered a contrite smile and let Rain continue with his chipper introductions.

Might as well enjoy this while he could, because it might soon be too late. In three short days, the highest echelons of nobility in the outer provinces would gather here in the Central Citadel, ostensibly to celebrate the Imperial victory at Sinuji. In truth, most would be watching to see the Legate’s attitude towards ‘Imperial Consort’ Falling Rain and learn if the boy’s Imperial title was worth the parchment it was written on, for many had received offers of peerage for themselves.

There were new and exciting times ahead, and Shi-Woo prayed to the Mother Above that he’d backed the right horse, because if not, then the whole Yo family might be dragged down along with him.

Author's note: Not thrilled with this chapter, as it took longer than I liked to go through Rain's friends and set the tone, and I still feel like it's missing a lot of important info. Blerg. We'll see how i feel about it tomorrow. Politics is hard -_-