Chapter 593 (Patreon)

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-cu6qoCRyGLYs_ARWVZfJyPlkBn9iSS6rzNXgbgXt18/edit?usp=sharing

There was a time when I thought Mama Bun’s snores were the cutest thing in the world, but that was before I heard the symphony that is Mama Bun, Tawny One, and Mila snoring in concert while Aurie snuffles in the background.

My beloved wife would bruise my ribs if I ever accused her of snoring, but it’s a cute, dainty murmuring snore, rather than a deep and rumbling one like her half-bear Papa. It’s incredible how alike the two of them are, despite the complete and utter lack of blood ties between them, but to be fair, Mila shares quite a bit with her biological father as well. Guan Suo is a cantankerous grouch, and Mila can be a touch volatile, particularly during the early hours of the day. Hopefully she doesn’t get a taste for tobacco, or whatever it is Guan Suo smokes from his pipe, because I’d rather not taste ashes when kissing my wife.

I suppose it’s the age old battle of nature versus nurture. Which one has more effect on an individual’s personality? Difficult to say, but given how Mila’s entangled limbs and forceful reactions prohibit me from going anywhere, not to mention my unwillingness to break up the rarely seen Mama Bun/Tawny One cuddle puddle, there’s nothing I can do besides wait for my beautifully freckled wife to wake on her own. This could take awhile, but I’m happy to lie here all day and watch her sleep.

Unless I have to pee.

Or poop.

Both of which I now must do.

Thanks brain.

One struggle of bowels and conscience later, I get my bodily functions under control through a series of breathing exercises and sheer force of will. My day begins the second I step foot outside our bed, and I am not yet ready to face it. Who would have thought settling one and a half million families would be such a stressful enterprise? I overlooked a bajillion minor details when starting this venture, and even with an unexpected windfall of assistance from Imperial Clerks and the Spring and Autumn Consortium, I’ve only been a half-step ahead of disaster for almost an entire month now. Disappearing documents, escalating expenses, scheduling snafus, and more, we’ve run into setback after setback during our race against time settling farmers in before autumn.

Which, by the way, was also a last minute decision to correct another overlooked detail. I forgot that farmers and commoners in general wouldn’t have much in the way of savings, so in order to survive through their first winter, it is absolutely vital that they sow and harvest their fields at least once or else they’d be liable to starve to death. Now, we’re scrambling to get as many farmer families settled in before the deadline, because as soon fall arrives next week, we’ll have to wait until spring to resume settling. Like I said, I overlooked a lot of minor details, many of which are not so minor.

Putting work out of mind for now, I go back to basking in the warmth and comfort of my fiery wife. Sprawled out on her belly with one arm and one leg stretched out over mine, Mila is not the most graceful sleeping beauty, but seeing her in the soft glow of morning light, I can’t conceive of a more beautiful sight. So bold and domineering in life, yet so bashful and submissive in the bedroom, the disparity is both shocking and erotic, not to mention how trusting and helpless she appears at this very moment. Eyes wandering over her exposed nape, bared back, and shapely arms, I still my hands and rest my head against hers, opting to close my eyes to attempt entry into her Natal Palace instead of other, more physical pursuits.

We don’t have time to get her strapped into the steel monstrosity anyways...

I’ve heard so much about Mila’s Natal Palace, and it’s been an astonishing glimpse into the whole concept behind Natal Palaces in general. They’re more than a mental retreat or a personal world to practice Chi in, but I’ve no real clues as to their true purpose, or why they are only effective when permanent. Mila says she modelled the bamboo grove in its entirety, copy-pasted it seven times, then raised a mountain underneath and crafted a river to run around it, but I don’t really understand the significance of her actions. I know from personal experience that moving air and flowing water sound simple enough in theory, but are actually fairly difficult to pull off. It requires a constant... not focus, but awareness of the air and water moving about, the same way you generally know which way is up and down, even if cartwheeling around through pitch black darkness. The second you stop being aware, the movement stops, and your Natal Palace stagnates, which I got around with mental hacks and multiple personalities.

Which makes me curious to know if the air and water continues to flow inside Mila’s Natal Palace when she’s not paying attention. I wanted to ask, but I thought better of it, because even bringing it up might throw her off her game. So much about the Martial Path relies on intuition and instinct, or what I’ve come to see as beneficial ignorance, like regrowing teeth and long-lived animals. Back before I ever heard the term ‘Natal Palace’, I was able to replicate the entire village and its surroundings in full, complete with moving clouds, flowing water, a day/night cycle, and ‘working’ villagers. Problem is, I’m certain my Natal Palace wasn’t a perfect replica of the village, just an accurate one based on my memories. If I were to try to recreate it again now, I’m not sure I could do it, because I’d probably involuntarily spend too much time getting the details exactly right, only to immediately forget the moment I leave.

Details just aren’t all that important to me. I’ll study something, appreciate it, and remember it, but I don’t see the point in being able to memorize every relevant detail about something. Memories aren’t about the details, but about reliving the experience, and for that, the details don’t always matter,

Take my Natal Palace 2.0, Keystone edition. I crafted Taduk’s cottage home from memory, but I don’t remember putting too much thought into the details. Don’t get me wrong, I made an authentic replica of the area, with the organized herbal garden surrounded by its bamboo garden fence, the dining table with the mismatched chairs, the haphazardly stacked bookshelves with disordered spines, but the details weren’t exact, not like how Mila describes her Natal Palace. She has bamboo plants which are the exact same shape, size, and orientation as their counterparts in real life, while my bookshelves didn’t have any real books or stack them in any particular, and the scattered pages probably didn’t have any legible writing, only randomly scribbled characters to give the illusion of text. Hell, I doubt I even got the patterns on the bed sheets right, since I rarely went into Taduk or Lin-Lin’s rooms. Personally, I don’t think it matters, because the details don’t matter to me. I still felt comfortable in my replica, because it reminded me of all the happy memories I’d made in the real place, learning to read from Lin-Lin, being quizzed by Taduk, pulling weeds from his herb garden and playing with the quins in their stables. Those memories are the whole reason why I modelled part of my Natal Palace after Taduk’s cottage, and the nitty-gritty details wouldn’t change anything.

Or... at least that’s what I thought. Would things have gone differently if I paid more attention to the details? How, and more importantly, why?

Mila can’t say why the details matter either, but she’s always been a perfectionist. For me, I’ve never been one to sweat about the details, just about the overall feel of an object. I focus more on ambience and optics, not just inside my Natal Palace, but in everyday life as well, so maybe our attitudes and beliefs are why our core design concepts are so different. The Natal Palace is a place of safety and comfort, and we find comfort from different things. Mila and Pong Pong take comfort in accuracy to detail, or at least I assume so because Pong Pong’s Natal Palace is far too varied and lifelike to have been imagined. Personally, I prefer to surround myself in familiar trappings, like Ping Ping and her single, unending river of friends and happiness. Even the other Natal Palaces I’ve seen fit the bill, like Dagen who resided in the home he shared with his wife and child, Mahakala in his monastery courtyard, Bei in the home she shared with her family, and Yo Ling sitting atop his throne while holding audience with his Spectres.

I wonder if Yo Ling truly ever controlled them, or if the Spectres simply allowed him the illusion of control, so they could better control him...

Unfortunately, I am unable to slip into Mila’s Natal Palace, as is normally the case when dealing with humans. Instead, I fall asleep and wake some time later to Mama Bun kisses and a protesting bladder. Putting aside my musings on Natal Palaces, I respond to Mama Bun’s affection with kisses of my own before glancing over at sweet Tawny One watching from the sidelines. I always thought Tawny One was stoic and aloof, a rabbit who never really cared for hugs and kisses, but seeing how happy the golden-brown bunbun was in Mila’s arms, I realize sweet Tawny One is just shy and introverted. She won’t come to me for hugs and kisses like Mama Bun does, and instead sits on the sidelines and waits for them, except I never noticed. The poor girl has been starved of affection, and I am to blame, so I set to making up for lost time by snuggling sweet Tawny One tight.

And my efforts are rewarded with the cutest little headbutt to the cheek as she flops against me in sheer delight. I’m a horrible bun-parent, neglecting my sweet bun-babies like this, and don’t get me started on the sweet calfs. I haven’t even named them all yet, and there’s almost a thousand cattle in total now, which means I need to do something before their numbers get out of hand. No slaughtering, I can’t be that heartless, nor do I want to geld the bulls, because that seems even worse, but I can’t really think of any other options besides giving them away to loving families.

And I don’t want to do that. They’re my cattle. Mine.

After a long, languid stretch from atop our legs, Aurie gets up and carefully lays across Mila’s back and my chest, blinking and rumbling in sheer delight as I greet him with a head rub. A tired groan erupts from the sleeping beauty beside me, but her half-hearted attempt to push Aurie aside barely even shifts the fat wildcat an inch. Still pretty good for not trying since he’s close to three-hundred kilograms now, but my fit, athletic wife easily rolls onto her back even with most of Aurie’s weight on her. “We need a bigger bed,” she mutters, yawning as she rubs the sleep out of her eyes. “A much bigger bed. Three times at least.”

“Yea, as things stand, the bears can’t even fit up here.” Smiling at her aggrieved scowl, I kiss her lightly and marvel at the lack of morning breath, yet another benefit of marrying a Martial Warrior. I shudder to think how terribly my breath smells, so I turn away and limit myself to breathing through my nose. Not because I’m worried about how she perceives me, but because I wouldn’t wish the stench of my breath on my worst enemy. “I suppose it’s time to rise and shine.” Fumbling for my pocket watch by the nightstand, I check the time and say, “If we hurry, we can make it to breakfast with Lin-Lin.”

“Are we really that late?”

“Afraid so.” Slipping out of bed in a hurry, I throw on a robe and let the floofs out before there’s an accident, as I still haven’t gotten around to installing pet doors on everyone’s rooms. The previous owner was a wealthy lumber baron who had doors crafted out of some rare and expensive hardwoods, which mean they’re too ornate and extravagant to carve up for the sake of convenience. Some day, I intend to design and build a pet friendly manor to live in, complete with cat and bear doors, a hare highway overhead for Blackjack to zoom across, and an obstacle course for the pets to play in, not to mention a quin stable and river to house Ping Ping, Pong Pong, and Sir Inky.

And maybe, just maybe, a large bamboo grove. Not for Taduk to garden in, but to house the fattest, floofiest, grouchiest Red Panda who ever lived, assuming I can find and charm it.

With Mila on my arm, we stride out to meet the day and head over to Taduk’s manor. Stopping in at my office to check in on Luo-Luo, we find her hard at work managing my affairs with MuYang, Junior, and Jian Xianhe by her side. Noodle is also there, basking beneath the sunlight inside his glass-roofed terrarium, and he barely even twitches as I stroll by. Super venomous killer snakes are not my thing, but Luo-Luo seems to like him, and can even stroke his head without getting bit to death, though it’ll be some time before I’m comfortable letting her bring him around outside of his cage, or willing to let him slither around me unguarded.

Seriously, snakes give me the heebie jeebies, especially after I learned they don’t always slither. Luo-Luo somehow taught Noodle to walk like a caterpillar, which is quite the accomplishment considering he doesn’t have legs. He just... flexes his muscles like internal legs, and wobbles his way around the terrarium, which is an unsettling sight I can never unsee.

Why couldn’t Rang Min gift me with a mean lion or an ornery cassowary or something, some animal which at least has the potential to be cute?

Luo-Luo declines our invitation to breakfast, and also our invitation to head out to the bamboo grove, stating she has too much work on her plate, but somehow that there’s also nothing I can do to help. Honestly, she works too hard and is not great at accepting help, because she likes to micromanage things too much. Even though MuYang and Xianhe have never given her reason to distrust them and possess Natal Palaces and perfect recall, Luo-Luo still insists on double checking all their work, and not in a cursory fashion either. This makes it difficult to spend more time with her, as she’s too compulsive to relax and let others do their work without constant oversight. She even turned down a two-and-a-half week trip to the Central and Southern Citadels with me so she could stay here and work, even though I all but insisted she come along to keep things from getting awkward with just me and Song.

I dunno. It’s weird. For someone who works so hard to win my affection, she sure makes up a lot of excuses to avoid spending time alone with me. Maybe she saw the steel monstrosity in Mila’s room and came to the wrong conclusion, or maybe she’s just not all that into me, but either way, there’s not much I can do to win her over if we never spend any time together outside of work.

Worst of all? She took over my office while I was gone. Moved a table in for Noodle, bought comfier office chairs, and even brought her zither in too, which she plays by the window overlooking the cattle ranch. I can’t say I loved this office, or even liked it much, but it was mine, and now, it’s hers, and I’m a little saddened by the loss.

“Oh, this came for you, Lord Husband,” Luo-Luo adds, just as I’m about to leave with Mila. Handing over my opened mail, Luo-Luo beams and says, “Good news, for once.”

Good news indeed, as my gambit has finally paid off. It’s been over a month since I set Rang Min to task hunting down the true culprits behind the widespread fraud plaguing Northern shipments to the Western Wall, and he finally made a move. Furrowing my brow as I read through the documents, I sigh and put them aside when I’m done. “So, Rang Min uncovered a nameless, shadowy mastermind who worked from behind the scenes to blackmail a number of highly placed patsies into compliance. Though unable to expose the mastermind’s identity or recover the stolen goods, Rang Min was able to unravel said mastermind’s web and put an end to his criminal enterprise by executing a bunch of mooks. How convenient.”

“You should look over his proof, Lord Husband.” Gesturing at a pile of documents on the other side of the table, Luo-Luo purses her lips and says, “It is... extensive and rather compelling.”

Torn between sating my hunger and trying to catch Rang Min in a lie, hunger wins out by a landslide. “You’ve gone through them? Your thoughts?”

“I saw nothing out of place, and all the evidence supports Rang Min’s claims.” Shrugging, she adds, “Unfortunately, he was unable to uncover where the stolen goods were sold, which could have led us to a suspect.”

My gut doesn’t like this, because I was sure it was the company owners, but my belly likes being empty even less. “MuYang, have your people verify Rang Min’s evidence, and see if you can turn up anything he might have omitted. It doesn’t make sense for an outside third party to have so much control over so many different companies. Whoever did this knew too much about too many ventures, information which could only have been collected by someone high up inside each company, or by having an intricate network of spies all across the Northern Province, like you or...” The blood drains from my face as I examine my most recent thoughts for signs of influence or manipulation, but I come up empty with proof of their existence or absence.

“What’s wrong?” Mila asks, concerned by the look on my face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Clutching her hand to settle my nerves, I clear my throat and shake my head, unwilling to voice my suspicions just yet. “Verify the evidence, leave no stone unturned, and do what you can to find the stolen goods. Rang Min said he couldn’t find where they’d been sold, but see if he tracked how they were moved and where he lost the trail. Maybe there’s a pattern to be found in the direction they were all going.” Swallowing hard, I curse myself for being unable to Send, and wonder if my thoughts have already given the game away. “Do it now, and do it quickly, because if Rang Min is being honest, then this is a bigger problem than any of us thought.”

If I’m right, then our enemy isn’t greed and corruption, not this time. For decades, Yo Ling terrorized Sanshu and its surrounding areas with his bandit army, but the most fearsome aspect about him was neither his strength nor brutality, though he had both in spades. No, they called him ‘the Spectre’, because it seemed like he could be anywhere and everywhere at once, ferreting out hidden secrets which helped him bribe, blackmail, plunder, and kill his way to the top, where he stayed for decades without ever coming close to getting caught.

And I’m guessing whatever Yo Ling can do, Zhen Shi can probably do even better.

There’s a good chance these stolen goods weren’t sold, but were smuggled out of the province and into the West. Lumber, stone, food, cloth, these are all things the Western Province would need to survive and rebuild, which is something no one ever considered because the Defiled do not build, but I know better. Zhen Shi is aiming to create a brand new breed of Defiled, or at least that’s what it looks like with his so called ‘Chosen of Heaven’ and his rambling notes about improving humanity as a whole by turning everyone into Martial Warriors. Whatever his goal, he needs a living workforce to supply him with armour, weapons, transportation, and more, which means he needs to feed, clothe, and house his non-Defiled workers. I should have thought of this sooner, but the concept of a Defiled Empire is just so far out there, I didn’t even stop to consider the possibility despite all the proof sitting before my very eyes.

The dark revelation casts a sombre pall over my mood, but I set it aside and go wake Lin-Lin from her slumber. While Mila helps her get ready, I whip together a quick breakfast in the kitchen with Eun’s help, which is neither asked for nor appreciated as she interrogates me regarding the upcoming wedding and feeds the bears far too many sugary treats. Deflecting almost everything by telling her to check with Yan when she gets back, I take breakfast and bears to go before Grandpa Du can insinuate how difficult my upcoming wedding contests will be or my bears develop diabeetus and enjoy a quiet breakfast inside the carriage with my wife and wifey. After stopping briefly to pick up Song and Princess and offer them a suitable tribute of egg-wraps and honey cakes, we all set out for a relaxing day at the bamboo grove.

Or at least, that’s the idea until my carriage arrives at the district and I feel compelled to step out and see how construction is going.

Bringing only Mama Bun, Ping Ping, Kuang Biao, and a cadre of Death Corps with me, I send the carriage ahead to deliver everyone to the bamboo grove while I humour my inner workaholic and wander around the district. Taking in the burgeoning cement block walls and massive (empty) gate, I’m assailed by an immense surge of satisfaction at seeing what I have wrought. The walls are only three stories high or twelve metres, which isn’t as high as I’d like, but then again, the outer and inner Citadel Walls are only fifteen and twenty meters tall respectively, so it’s not bad. There are dozens of completed outposts already in place, and when I’m done, there will be one outpost every four kilometres, totalling a hundred and twenty five outposts along the western border, with one in ten of those outposts being a full-fledged fort.

Sadly, this is only for the western-most districts, because when it comes to farmers and tradesmen, you can’t actually fit too many of them along a thousand kilometre border. We’ve already started settling farmers further east, and I had to account for things like population density, overnight rest stations for caravans, guard posts to keep the peace, and a thousand other things I never considered. Worst of all, only the westernmost districts will have these concrete walls, as it is neither economically viable nor logically reasonable to have an outpost at every single district. Some people will just have to fend for themselves, because I can’t afford to build defences for all of them.

No matter how much I’d like to. One in ten forts is already fewer than I’d like, as I initially wanted one in every district, rather than just throwing up four walls and calling it a day. Then again, even if I built an impregnable fortress every kilometre, there’s a good chance they’ll end up being useless, because if the Wall is overrun in any place besides the Citadel, Zhen Shi would be best served if he moved his forces east until they could blend in with the locals. This would give him a hidden insurgent force inside the Empire, who would be free to recruit, incite, spy, distract, and just generally be a thorn in the side of the Imperial Army, one we would have to devote significant resources to hunting down. Aside from the difficulty of identifying someone as Chosen, it’s also much harder to kill Defiled when fighting out on the open plains. I should know, because I still hold the record for most efficient kill ratio, which is just terrifying to consider. Me, the most effective killer of Defiled, with my mismatched retinue of cripples, slaves, reformed bandits, hobo woodsmen, and Sentinel archers. What the hell was everyone else doing that made them so ineffective? Fighting Defiled with their heads up their asses and both hands tied behind their backs?

Lamenting the sub-par tactical doctrine and dire fate of the Empire, I set to greeting labourers and inspecting the walls for signs of shoddy work or unexpected issues. I don’t expect to find anything, especially not with Cixi in charge, as she has years of experience in construction and is not a woman who suffers fools or shirkers lightly. As if summoned by the mere thought of her, the capable woman scurries over to greet me at an undignified sprint, only to stop short in front of my all-too alert guards. “Greetings... Minister Rain,” she pants, utterly horrified by her lack of manners. “If... you’d... sent word... I’d... have been... waiting to... receive you.”

Waving her protests aside before she tries to apologize for what she now realizes could have been construed as an accusation, I hand her a water-skin with a smile. “Nonsense, I don’t need you to receive me, you’ve an outpost to build and more important matters to deal with.”

After taking a long pull of water and getting her breath back under control, Cixi nods and gestures around her. “Work is coming along well,” she proclaims, proud as a peacock as she follows me around the district. “With the coin you fronted for construction of these outposts, I hired on some of the best in the business, and with the wages I pay, I have my pick of the most dedicated labourers.” There’s a lot more to construction than simply stacking bricks, so it’s well worth the cost to hire the best, though I’ll be damned if I understand the first thing about it. That’s why I hired Cixi on to handle this, and with Cao Cuo’s mathematical brilliance handling logistics and transportation, and Luo-Luo and Mila to interpret his instructions for me, there have been no shortages or delays anywhere across the entire Western border. Honestly, Cao Cuo has enough smarts to be a Lieutenant Marshal, but has gone completely unnoticed because he ran a minor shipping company that only reached three major cities in Central. His skills are the real deal though, and the only things holding him back were a lack of startup funds and an unwillingness to wholly devote himself to growing his business, as he would much rather spend his time learning for the sake of knowledge itself.

The man is brilliant, but his intelligence is a result of hard work and dedication, rather than inborn talent. The world is filled with worthless geniuses, but it’s men like Cao Cuo who will bring the Empire into the next age.

With this in mind, I ask Cixi to send the pasty, wide-eyed youth back to the Citadel with orders to report to Junior, where I intend to put him to work helping MuYang go over Rang Min’s findings. With luck, his sharp mind will pick up on something everyone else would overlook and prove or disprove my worrisome theory about Zhen Shi. If the Uniter is able to exert so much influence in the North to hide his wide-spread embezzlement, I shudder to think what else he might be up to right under our noses.

Once finished with my walk-through of the district, I head out to pay a visit to Orbei’s yurt. I heard about her little dust-up with Cixi, and I don’t want any hard feelings to linger. Orbei is argumentative and stubborn, but far from malicious, and she accepts my peace offering with grace and aplomb, though not before muttering a few jabs at Cixi. The People are a fierce and independent bunch who are not integrating well with the new farmers. I left them two entire blocks to themselves, plus the area around Taduk’s bamboo grove, but still, the close proximity to strangers has them in a foul mood, and I have no idea what I can do to smooth things over. This land was a part of my earliest acquisitions, which I bought because it sat along a serviceable dirt road to the Citadel, but now that I’ve settled thousands of families in the surrounding areas, that dirt road has become the main avenue for traffic going to and from the Citadel. Every day, there are countless travellers passing by the People’s living area, and those numbers will only increase from here, which is... less than ideal.

With a solution in mind, I bring my concerns to Alsantset, after checking to see if she’s available for lunch soon and dinner back at the Citadel. “What a good little brother you are,” she growls, mercilessly pinching both my cheeks with a feral smile. “First you leave on a journey without coming to say goodbye, and now that you have returned, all you bring are problems to lay at my feet.”

“...I also brought candied salmon.” Thanks to Song, who wanted to go shopping for gifts and souvenirs, which I would have never have thought to do.

Pinching my cheeks once more before helping herself to a serving of the deliciously smoked fish, she takes a seat in the grass and gestures for me to join her. The twins are off fishing and hunting with Charok, so it’s just the two of us here at her yurt, and it strikes me as odd for my sister, a Major in her own right, to be living out of a glorified tent with nowhere for family or guests to sit. “Let me build you a manor,” I say, which earns me a displeased frown. “Not as a gift, but because it is necessary. You’re my sister, so you should be living in luxury. It’s expected of us now.”

Pursing her lips, Alsantset motions for another piece of salmon and leaves me no choice but to risk the grass stains and sit beside her. “I moved out here to get away from politics,” she says, smiling to show she’s not blaming me for her decision. “You have adapted well to your new life, but I have no desire to do the same.” Gesturing at her yurt with a smile, she says, “This serves our needs well enough, and is already more than I want, for my heart aches to return home and reclaim the manor my children grew up in.”

“I miss that manor too,” I lie, and I can see she doesn’t buy it. I should’ve known better, but I’ve gotten into the habit of speaking polite lies. “But missing home is no reason not to live in comfort. We’ve been here in Central for a year already, and it might be several more before we return home.”

“And until such a time, I will live where I please,” Alsantset replies, perhaps a little more harshly than intended. Softening her tone, she strokes my hair and pats my cheek, and I’m reminded of how often she did just this when I first came to live with her. Such a small gesture, but it speaks volumes to her character, because back then, there was a good chance I would turn out to be Defiled, but still she took me in. “You are well-suited for this life, little brother,” she whispers, her expression mournful and melancholic, “But I fear I will never grow accustomed to it. For a time, living here on the farm was an escape from the reality of our situation, but now I can no longer lie to myself. You are right. It will be some time before we return home, so I will speak with Charok about building a house for our family to live in.” Narrowing her eyes, she adds, “You will not shame him by offering to pay for it again. My husband is a capable man who can provide for his family with his own two hands.”

Too true, considering he takes a forty percent cut of every Shen Mu heartwood carriage we sell. Even though I’ve been artificially limiting the supply to drive prices up, Charok has already earned more than enough to live the rest of his life in luxury. Leery of offending my sister again, I reluctantly request she abide by the rules my people set forth regarding construction on each plot and mention that I coincidentally held onto a residential lot inside the district which would be perfect suited for a family home.

Right beside the mayor’s house, so she can keep an eye on Bulat.

“Hmph.” Crossing her arms in a huff as she catches onto my ploy, she scowls and says, “That fool. You would have been better served appointing his mother as Mayor.”

“I considered it, but she can’t read.”

“Easier to teach Maira to read than Bulat to govern. He is too used to bullying bandit recruits and forgets he lives amongst warriors and commoners now.”

God dammit Bulat. “I’ll talk to him about his demeanour, but I still don’t know what to do about the rest of the People.” Scratching my neck in sheepish remorse for asking for so much from my wonderful sister, I ask, “So... got any ideas on how I can help them integrate?”

Narrowing her eyes, she sighs and says, “Yes, and it is the same idea as yours. Send Sentinels to oversee your militia training.” Shaking her head, she pinches my cheeks for a third time and says, “My sweet, honest brother is no more, and in his place is a duplicitous politician. If you have something to suggest, then come out and say it. You have no need to use these tricks to persuade me.”

“Sorry. Force of habit.” Hugging her in apology, I offer another piece of candied salmon which she accepts with a smile, meaning I’ve found a new way to bribe her. “As for the matter with regulations and whatnot, I know it chafes to be told what to do, but the regulations need to be adhered to throughout the districts. If I allowed something here that isn’t allowed elsewhere, others will point and ask why they cannot be exempted from the rules as well. Is there anything I can do to make up for it?”

“Yes.” Beaming in victorious delight, Alsantset straightens up and says, “Offer to aid others in securing materials for their homes. Your concrete blocks are cheap and sturdy, but they are lifeless and displeasing to the eye, and though the sod homes are quaint and filled with life, few of the People will care to live underground. We will require wood, and plenty of it if we are to build homes, and you are well-positioned to offer the best prices.”

“...Would just giving wood away for free be an insult? Not as a gift, but as a... I dunno, gesture of goodwill or something.” I gave away yurts, so I don’t see why I can’t give away lumber.

“A gifted manor is not a home, but merely a place to rest one’s head.” Smiling as she pats my cheek once more, she explains, “You mean well, but we have our pride. Do as I say, but no more. Gathered here are the families of Sentinels and Healers, so they can afford the costs.”

Sure, but I can still subsidize the shipping fees and offer material at cost. Taking Alsantset’s hand, I smile and say, “I know you think I don’t miss our home in the village, but I do. It’s just... I don’t understand the need for division. No matter which province, city, village, or faction we hail from, we are all a part of the Empire, and we must stand together if we are to have any chance against the united Defiled.”

“You are right, little brother, as you so often are, but it is not so simple.” Smiling ever so sadly, Alsantset sighs and shakes her head. “You do not understand, but suffice it to say, the People stand apart not because we choose to, but because we must.”

Well... that doesn’t sound ominous at all.

Rolling her eyes in exasperation, Alsantset snatches away the box of candied salmon and sends me on my way. “You always were one to assume the worst. I only mean that if we were to integrate with the Empire, then we would cease to be the People, and we pride ourselves on our skills and history. Run along and go fetch your wives now. I would rather not have you underfoot while I prepare lunch. I will make your favourite, stir-fried crispy chicken with mango and peppers, so hurry back.”

Despite being Minister of Finance and one of the most politically powerful men in the outer provinces, my sister will always see me as the poor little slave child she saved, and I don’t hate it. Mom and Dad are proud as can be, but Alsantset? She’s always been proud of me, and has been my biggest supporter ever since that first day we met, which means more to me than I could ever explain. Even without my amber eyes, I know she would have fought to protect me, because that’s just the sort of person she is. Proud, fierce, and loving to the extreme, she is my sister, my hero, my guardian, and my protector.

Everything I have, I owe to her, but she accept any gifts more valuable than candied salmon. Good thing I slipped Tate and Tali a thousand gold each at the wedding, and had twenty War Bonds put in their names. That’s one work-around for this gift-giving stigma; just give stuff to the kids. Super weird, and I have no idea why it matters, but it does.

Now, that’s enough work for today. This might be the last time I visit Taduk’s bamboo grove before my wedding with Yan, so I came here with an explicit goal in mind: To find me a groundhog and bring it home to cuddle. If my wedding guests aren’t going to gift me with floofs, then I’ll just have to catch one myself, and while I’ve yet to find success, it just so happens that Taduk has plenty of Spiritual Plants I can use as bait.

Dirk Diggerton, I know you’re out there, and you will become a part of the family whether you like it or not.

...

Duchess Digsly? Doc Duggerday? Richard Digglett? There are just so many great names, but I should probably wait until after I catch one to decide.

Chapter Meme