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Threads Of Destiny(Eastern Fantasy, Sequel to Forge of Destiny)

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Apocalyptic Loon said:
The Fly

Nestled snugly in one of The Emerald Sea's many valleys was a small farming town. In this town lived a famous moneylender. This moneylender was very rich, very powerful, and very greedy. He was always wanting more.

One day, with the sun shining overhead and flower blossoms floating lazily on the wind, the moneylender found himself standing outside a hovel on the outskirts of town. The man and woman who lived in the house owed him money. And there was nothing the moneylender loved so much as an opportunity for more money

Without pause, the moneylender raised his fist and knocked on the door.

*Knock**Knock**Knock*

He knocked again when no answer came.

*Knock**Knock**Knock*

After a moment, the door opened to show was a boy, a young boy, and the money lender said—

xxxXXXxxx​

"Sissy!" Cried a young voice. The plea cutting through the story like the ringing note of a flute through the serenity of a mountain vale. Ling Qi, bemused, looked down at the child bundled tightly in blankets.

The child's pale face stared up at her, nose scrunched in innocent puzzlement from within a cocoon of plush fabric. "Why is it a boy?"

As the child asked the question, the bright, gibbous moon could be seen through the high window, illuminating an odd sight. At the foot of the child-sized bed, where the youngest member of the Ling household currently rested, lay a swirling eddy of mist.

Though this was no ordinary mist.

The consistency ebbed and waned, with some sections being so congealed the haze looked almost solid, while other sections bled color like someone had poked a hole into the liminal realm. Taken as a whole, the swirling cloud of mist formed an image of a thickset man bedecked in a garish robe looming over the form of a small, thin boy outside of a rickety home.

"There's no special reason," said Ling Qi, answering her sister's question with a minuscule shrug. "It's a boy because that is how the story goes."

"Hmph." Biyu sniffed, unsatisfied with the answer. "Sissy should change it."

"Oh, how so?"

"Should be a girl instead."

"What would that change?" Asked Ling Qi with an amused half-smile.

"It will make the story better Sissy." Biyu informed her sister in a tone dripping with precocious exasperation.

Never one to miss an opportunity, Ling Qi felt Sixiang stir in her mind. 'Really Ling Qi, how could you miss something so obvious.'

Ling Qi resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Barely. 'Hush you.' Externally, she smiled down at her sister. "Very well. It is your story after all."

And, with a wave of her hand, the mist churned.

The facsimile of the sun still shone overhead, the flower blossoms captured by the wind's currents remained frozen in midair, and the moneylender's pinched expression didn't so much as twitch. But the boy morphed. His features softened and his hair grew, he stretched upwards and his clothes shifted from a rough-spun tunic and pants to a modest gown of the same material.

A moment earlier, the three-dimensional portrait had shown a young boy peeking from around a mist-constructed door to peer at the moneylender. In his place was now a scrawny, sharp-featured girl.

Ling Qi raised a brow. "Better?"

Biyu simply snuggled deeper into her blankets, ready for the story to continue.

Content with the nonverbal answer, Ling Qi flexed her will. In response, the image suspended at the foot of the bed sprung back into motion.

xxxXXXxxx​

The door opened to show a girl, a young girl, and the moneylender said, "Where are your mother and father? I have come to collect the money that they own me."

And the girl said, "My mother is selling the wind to buy the moon and my father is cutting living trees to plant dead ones."

"What!" Exclaimed the moneylender in confusion as he pushed his way into the house. "Where are your mother and father for they must pay the debt they own me."

The girl looked at the moneylender and said again, "My mother is selling the wind to buy the moon and my father is cutting living trees to plant dead ones."

"I want to know where your mother and father are. Today they must pay their debt." The moneylender's face was flushed and his eyes bulged out like a bullfrog's. "Now tell me!"

And the girl looked at the moneylender and said, "Why should I tell you?"

"If you tell me where your mother and father are… the debt is cancelled, they do not have to pay. Now tell me where they are!"

And the girl said, "I will tell you, but how do I know you will be honest? There is no witness here."

"Bah!" Said the moneylender, slashing his hand through the air. "The walls of the house can be the witness."

"The walls?" Echoed the girl. "The walls aren't living. There must be a living witness."

"Very well." Said the moneylender. "See that fly on the wall." He pointed to the rickety wooden wall where a fly had landed. "That fly is a living thing. That fly will be the witness."

"Very well." Said the girl. "I will tell you—

xxxXXXxxx​

"Wait!" Cried Biyu, brows furrowed.

Ling Qi cut off her narration. The mist-formed caricatures of the girl and moneylender stilled as the Qi driven theatre paused.

Ling Qi thought about teasing Biyu about her interruption, but decided not to drive the conversation off-track. Instead, she waited patiently for Biyu to organize her thoughts.

Chewing on her lip, brows still bunched into a worried crease, Biyu wondered aloud. "Can a fly really be a witness, Sissy?"

"What do you think?" Ling Qi redirected.

"I…" The young girl thought about it seriously. "I think it can be."

"Oh?" Inquired Ling Qi, surprised at the answer.

"Umm, it could be a smart fly." The words were halted, like Biyu was thinking about the question even as she answered. "Like Big Turtle is a smart turtle."

"A spirit. True…" Ling Qi mused, ignoring Sixiang's mental giggle at her sister's description of Zhengui.

She was reminded of the difference in their environments growing up. When Ling Qi's mother had told her the same story, the fly was only ever a fly in her imagination. But Biyu, under Ling Qi's watchful gaze, had played with the little spirits of river-and-forest. The massive shell of Zhengui had acted as her own personal playground, and more than once her hair had been braided by a playful Sixiang as Ling Qi worked on composing a new song with Hanyi.

She had lived a different life. A better life.

"True," Ling Qi repeated. "The fly could have been a spirit... but this time I think it was really just a fly."

Biyu sat up in alarm at the news, her blankets falling to her shoulders. "Then can a normal fly be a witness, Sissy?!"

Ling Qi pretended to give it some thought. "Mhm, no, I don't think so."

"He's lying!" Came the scandalized accusation. "Sissy he's lying!"

Ling Qi nodded solemnly. "He is, isn't he."

"He's going to be sad." Biyu proclaimed with innocent finality

"You think so?"

"Mommy said lying is bad and it makes people sad."

Ling Qi sensed a tale, but decided not to bite. "How about we listen to the rest of the story to see what happens, then?"

"Hmm." Biyu agreed, eyes pinned to the mist as it swirled back to life, the story continuing.

xxxXXXxxx​

"Very well." Said the moneylender. "See that fly on the wall." He pointed to the rickety wooden wall where a fly had landed. "That fly is a living thing. That fly will be the witness."

"Very well." Said the girl. "I will tell you." The girl looked at the moneylender with wide, solemn eyes. "My mother is selling the wind to buy the moon; my mother is selling fans in the marketplace to buy oil for our lamp at night. And my father is cutting living trees to plant dead ones; my father is in the forest cutting bamboo so that he can build a fence."

"Fine." Said the moneylender. "I will return."

And as the moneylender turned to leave, the girl said. "The debt is cancelled, remember."

Later that night there was a knock on the door.

*Knock**Knock**Knock*

A man opened the door to see the moneylender standing outside. Striding into the home, the moneylender spoke. "I have come to collect the money that you owe me."

The man and the woman in the house looked at each other in despair. "We have no money to pay you. We are poor."

And now the girl spoke, and she said, "There is no debt. The debt is cancelled, remember?"

"Ha!" Scoffed the moneylender. "No one will believe a child."

The next day, he took the case to the town magistrate, and many people were gathered together in the courtroom. The magistrate listened to the story of the moneylender and was tempted to believe him, but the girl spoke up. "He cancelled the debt. He promised that my mother and father would not have to pay!"

"Is there a witness?" Said the magistrate.

"Yes!" Said the girl. "The witness was a fly!"

The magistrate laughed. "How can a fly be a witness?"

"I want the money that I am owed." The moneylender's ten gleaming golden rings contrasted nastily with his flushed cheeks and plum colored robe. "Give me the money."

But the girl was not scared.

"The fly was a witness." She glared fearlessly at the greedy man. "The fly was sitting on the end of his big, fat, ugly nose!"

The moneylender erupted from his seat, almost frothing at the mouth he was so enraged. "The fly was not on my nose," he shrieked, spittle spraying from his lips. "The fly was on the wall!"

There was a moment of silence, then everybody in the court began to laugh. The magistrate too laughed at the moneylender.

And, the laughter of the townsfolk echoing around him, the moneylender left the courtroom with nothing, ashamed and humiliated.

The magistrate stood from his seat in the front of the room and proclaimed to all. "There is no debt. The debt is cancelled."

xxxXXXxxx​

"...is no debt. The debt is cancelled." Finished Ling Qi.

Releasing control of her mist, the final image of a courtroom filled with laughing people, a girl being hugged by a man and woman, and a despondent moneylender lingered briefly before collapsing.

"I like that story Sissy."

Ling Qi brushed a loose strand of Biyu's hair out of her eyes. "I'm glad."

"She tricked the mean man."

"She did."

Ling Qi smiled at Biyu as the younger Ling fought a losing battle to keep her eyes open.

Making to get up from her perch on the side of the bed, Ling Qi was stopped by a small, pale hand latching onto her sleeve. "Not yet Sissy."

Reaching down, Ling Qi gently extracted her dress from Biyu's little fingers. "It's bedtime Biyu. Mother will come check on you soon."

Pleading eyes looked up at her. "One—" A sleepy yawn interrupted Biyu before she could finish."—On'more Sis?"

Ling Qi couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips as exhaustion caused her sister's words to lisp. Which, while cute, was not enough to change her answer. "No Biyu, it's time for bed."

"Sissy!" Whined the young girl in response.

Ling Qi knew Biyu could get stubborn when she was tired, so she preempted any further fussiness with a proposition. "If you promise to close your eyes and be good, I will stay until you fall asleep."

"Really?"

"Really." Ling Qi confirmed.

It took some gentle maneuvering, but Ling Qi managed to find a comfortable position on the small bed. The younger girl, still wrapped tightly in her blankets, shuffled closer to her sister's heat and buried her face in Ling Qi's side. Submerging herself in the peace of the moment, Ling Qi tenderly ran her fingers through Biyu's silky hair, humming the half-remembered tune of an old lullaby.

'Heh, softy.' Accused Sixiang, sounding fond.

Watching the gibbous moon through the high window as she waited for Biyu's breathing to even out, Ling Qi did not deny it.

xxxXXXxxx​

The story itself is not mine, it is based on the Vietnamese folktale, "The Fly". Specifically, I used a version told by David Heathfield on Youtube for this omake.

I think it could have been executed better, but I still think the idea of Ling Qi using her mist to play what are essentially short movies for Biyu is cool. Ending could use so work as usual, still I hope you enjoyed it!

@yrsillar
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
If this wasn't the cutest thing I've read in years I really don't know what qualifies. I might be diabetic now because of how sweet it was.
 
Apocalyptic Loon said:
The Fly

Nestled snugly in one of The Emerald Sea's many valleys was a small farming town. In this town lived a famous moneylender. This moneylender was very rich, very powerful, and very greedy. He was always wanting more.

One day, with the sun shining overhead and flower blossoms floating lazily on the wind, the moneylender found himself standing outside a hovel on the outskirts of town. The man and woman who lived in the house owed him money. And there was nothing the moneylender loved so much as an opportunity for more money

Without pause, the moneylender raised his fist and knocked on the door.

*Knock**Knock**Knock*

He knocked again when no answer came.

*Knock**Knock**Knock*

After a moment, the door opened to show was a boy, a young boy, and the money lender said—

xxxXXXxxx​

"Sissy!" Cried a young voice. The plea cutting through the story like the ringing note of a flute through the serenity of a mountain vale. Ling Qi, bemused, looked down at the child bundled tightly in blankets.

The child's pale face stared up at her, nose scrunched in innocent puzzlement from within a cocoon of plush fabric. "Why is it a boy?"

As the child asked the question, the bright, gibbous moon could be seen through the high window, illuminating an odd sight. At the foot of the child-sized bed, where the youngest member of the Ling household currently rested, lay a swirling eddy of mist.

Though this was no ordinary mist.

The consistency ebbed and waned, with some sections being so congealed the haze looked almost solid, while other sections bled color like someone had poked a hole into the liminal realm. Taken as a whole, the swirling cloud of mist formed an image of a thickset man bedecked in a garish robe looming over the form of a small, thin boy outside of a rickety home.

"There's no special reason," said Ling Qi, answering her sister's question with a minuscule shrug. "It's a boy because that is how the story goes."

"Hmph." Biyu sniffed, unsatisfied with the answer. "Sissy should change it."

"Oh, how so?"

"Should be a girl instead."

"What would that change?" Asked Ling Qi with an amused half-smile.

"It will make the story better Sissy." Biyu informed her sister in a tone dripping with precocious exasperation.

Never one to miss an opportunity, Ling Qi felt Sixiang stir in her mind. 'Really Ling Qi, how could you miss something so obvious.'

Ling Qi resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Barely. 'Hush you.' Externally, she smiled down at her sister. "Very well. It is your story after all."

And, with a wave of her hand, the mist churned.

The facsimile of the sun still shone overhead, the flower blossoms captured by the wind's currents remained frozen in midair, and the moneylender's pinched expression didn't so much as twitch. But the boy morphed. His features softened and his hair grew, he stretched upwards and his clothes shifted from a rough-spun tunic and pants to a modest gown of the same material.

A moment earlier, the three-dimensional portrait had shown a young boy peeking from around a mist-constructed door to peer at the moneylender. In his place was now a scrawny, sharp-featured girl.

Ling Qi raised a brow. "Better?"

Biyu simply snuggled deeper into her blankets, ready for the story to continue.

Content with the nonverbal answer, Ling Qi flexed her will. In response, the image suspended at the foot of the bed sprung back into motion.

xxxXXXxxx​

The door opened to show a girl, a young girl, and the moneylender said, "Where are your mother and father? I have come to collect the money that they own me."

And the girl said, "My mother is selling the wind to buy the moon and my father is cutting living trees to plant dead ones."

"What!" Exclaimed the moneylender in confusion as he pushed his way into the house. "Where are your mother and father for they must pay the debt they own me."

The girl looked at the moneylender and said again, "My mother is selling the wind to buy the moon and my father is cutting living trees to plant dead ones."

"I want to know where your mother and father are. Today they must pay their debt." The moneylender's face was flushed and his eyes bulged out like a bullfrog's. "Now tell me!"

And the girl looked at the moneylender and said, "Why should I tell you?"

"If you tell me where your mother and father are… the debt is cancelled, they do not have to pay. Now tell me where they are!"

And the girl said, "I will tell you, but how do I know you will be honest? There is no witness here."

"Bah!" Said the moneylender, slashing his hand through the air. "The walls of the house can be the witness."

"The walls?" Echoed the girl. "The walls aren't living. There must be a living witness."

"Very well." Said the moneylender. "See that fly on the wall." He pointed to the rickety wooden wall where a fly had landed. "That fly is a living thing. That fly will be the witness."

"Very well." Said the girl. "I will tell you—

xxxXXXxxx​

"Wait!" Cried Biyu, brows furrowed.

Ling Qi cut off her narration. The mist-formed caricatures of the girl and moneylender stilled as the Qi driven theatre paused.

Ling Qi thought about teasing Biyu about her interruption, but decided not to drive the conversation off-track. Instead, she waited patiently for Biyu to organize her thoughts.

Chewing on her lip, brows still bunched into a worried crease, Biyu wondered aloud. "Can a fly really be a witness, Sissy?"

"What do you think?" Ling Qi redirected.

"I…" The young girl thought about it seriously. "I think it can be."

"Oh?" Inquired Ling Qi, surprised at the answer.

"Umm, it could be a smart fly." The words were halted, like Biyu was thinking about the question even as she answered. "Like Big Turtle is a smart turtle."

"A spirit. True…" Ling Qi mused, ignoring Sixiang's mental giggle at her sister's description of Zhengui.

She was reminded of the difference in their environments growing up. When Ling Qi's mother had told her the same story, the fly was only ever a fly in her imagination. But Biyu, under Ling Qi's watchful gaze, had played with the little spirits of river-and-forest. The massive shell of Zhengui had acted as her own personal playground, and more than once her hair had been braided by a playful Sixiang as Ling Qi worked on composing a new song with Hanyi.

She had lived a different life. A better life.

"True," Ling Qi repeated. "The fly could have been a spirit... but this time I think it was really just a fly."

Biyu sat up in alarm at the news, her blankets falling to her shoulders. "Then can a normal fly be a witness, Sissy?!"

Ling Qi pretended to give it some thought. "Mhm, no, I don't think so."

"He's lying!" Came the scandalized accusation. "Sissy he's lying!"

Ling Qi nodded solemnly. "He is, isn't he."

"He's going to be sad." Biyu proclaimed with innocent finality

"You think so?"

"Mommy said lying is bad and it makes people sad."

Ling Qi sensed a tale, but decided not to bite. "How about we listen to the rest of the story to see what happens, then?"

"Hmm." Biyu agreed, eyes pinned to the mist as it swirled back to life, the story continuing.

xxxXXXxxx​

"Very well." Said the moneylender. "See that fly on the wall." He pointed to the rickety wooden wall where a fly had landed. "That fly is a living thing. That fly will be the witness."

"Very well." Said the girl. "I will tell you." The girl looked at the moneylender with wide, solemn eyes. "My mother is selling the wind to buy the moon; my mother is selling fans in the marketplace to buy oil for our lamp at night. And my father is cutting living trees to plant dead ones; my father is in the forest cutting bamboo so that he can build a fence."

"Fine." Said the moneylender. "I will return."

And as the moneylender turned to leave, the girl said. "The debt is cancelled, remember."

Later that night there was a knock on the door.

*Knock**Knock**Knock*

A man opened the door to see the moneylender standing outside. Striding into the home, the moneylender spoke. "I have come to collect the money that you owe me."

The man and the woman in the house looked at each other in despair. "We have no money to pay you. We are poor."

And now the girl spoke, and she said, "There is no debt. The debt is cancelled, remember?"

"Ha!" Scoffed the moneylender. "No one will believe a child."

The next day, he took the case to the town magistrate, and many people were gathered together in the courtroom. The magistrate listened to the story of the moneylender and was tempted to believe him, but the girl spoke up. "He cancelled the debt. He promised that my mother and father would not have to pay!"

"Is there a witness?" Said the magistrate.

"Yes!" Said the girl. "The witness was a fly!"

The magistrate laughed. "How can a fly be a witness?"

"I want the money that I am owed." The moneylender's ten gleaming golden rings contrasted nastily with his flushed cheeks and plum colored robe. "Give me the money."

But the girl was not scared.

"The fly was a witness." She glared fearlessly at the greedy man. "The fly was sitting on the end of his big, fat, ugly nose!"

The moneylender erupted from his seat, almost frothing at the mouth he was so enraged. "The fly was not on my nose," he shrieked, spittle spraying from his lips. "The fly was on the wall!"

There was a moment of silence, then everybody in the court began to laugh. The magistrate too laughed at the moneylender.

And, the laughter of the townsfolk echoing around him, the moneylender left the courtroom with nothing, ashamed and humiliated.

The magistrate stood from his seat in the front of the room and proclaimed to all. "There is no debt. The debt is cancelled."

xxxXXXxxx​

"...is no debt. The debt is cancelled." Finished Ling Qi.

Releasing control of her mist, the final image of a courtroom filled with laughing people, a girl being hugged by a man and woman, and a despondent moneylender lingered briefly before collapsing.

"I like that story Sissy."

Ling Qi brushed a loose strand of Biyu's hair out of her eyes. "I'm glad."

"She tricked the mean man."

"She did."

Ling Qi smiled at Biyu as the younger Ling fought a losing battle to keep her eyes open.

Making to get up from her perch on the side of the bed, Ling Qi was stopped by a small, pale hand latching onto her sleeve. "Not yet Sissy."

Reaching down, Ling Qi gently extracted her dress from Biyu's little fingers. "It's bedtime Biyu. Mother will come check on you soon."

Pleading eyes looked up at her. "One—" A sleepy yawn interrupted Biyu before she could finish."—On'more Sis?"

Ling Qi couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips as exhaustion caused her sister's words to lisp. Which, while cute, was not enough to change her answer. "No Biyu, it's time for bed."

"Sissy!" Whined the young girl in response.

Ling Qi knew Biyu could get stubborn when she was tired, so she preempted any further fussiness with a proposition. "If you promise to close your eyes and be good, I will stay until you fall asleep."

"Really?"

"Really." Ling Qi confirmed.

It took some gentle maneuvering, but Ling Qi managed to find a comfortable position on the small bed. The younger girl, still wrapped tightly in her blankets, shuffled closer to her sister's heat and buried her face in Ling Qi's side. Submerging herself in the peace of the moment, Ling Qi tenderly ran her fingers through Biyu's silky hair, humming the half-remembered tune of an old lullaby.

'Heh, softy.' Accused Sixiang, sounding fond.

Watching the gibbous moon through the high window as she waited for Biyu's breathing to even out, Ling Qi did not deny it.

xxxXXXxxx​

The story itself is not mine, it is based on the Vietnamese folktale, "The Fly". Specifically, I used a version told by David Heathfield on Youtube for this omake.

I think it could have been executed better, but I still think the idea of Ling Qi using her mist to play what are essentially short movies for Biyu is cool. Ending could use so work as usual, still I hope you enjoyed it!

@yrsillar
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...

OK, this story is cute af and put a gigantic smile on my face.

One thing you got really right though is how different the childhoods of Ling Qi and Biyu are. If this Quest ever has a time skip, I can't wait to see her first steps as a Cultivator.
 
I still find hilarious how the money lender who went after Ling Qi's mom, got bitch slapped by the recommendation from Renxiang. One wonders about how Biyu saw it, "big bad man tried to cheat, but big sister hjalped".
 
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The Lords of Heaven's Peaks/ Kings of the Mountain and River
  • Sidestory
    • The people, the nobility, even the more foolish members of the ministry still whisper that we have lost something. They say that the Lords of the Peaks have become content, decadent, wedded to peace. Why there was hardly any resistance at all when the First Emperor of Mu took his throne. The Sage was not so passive they say. The Sage was a true emperor, who conquered and ruled and made of himself a legend!

    It all comes back to the Sage, again and again, echoing down through history. It is troubling though, how little understanding there is of what they are clamoring for. Young one, the first thing you will need to learn from me as my apprentice to the Imperial Archive is that the Sage was a horrifying man. A beast bloated on blood, pride, and pleasures of the flesh. Yes, he was a peerless warrior and general, a canny statesman and a superlative speaker, at least in the beginning. Yes he founded the ministries and the other foundations which have kept the Empire together, though with more help and badgering from his court than the public histories would tell you, but that does not change what he was.

    I see the horror on your face that I would speak so, but worry not. Behind the doors of the archive, we are not prone to censure. That is why we live wholly in these halls, except when attending to the Imperial person, yes? So that history might remain recorded without bias and censure from outside forces. When the reigning Emperor or Empress needs unvarnished truth in order to see the path forward, we provide it to them.

    But yes, the ways of the Peaks do all come back to the Sage. We are a conservative and cautious people. And does that not bring us prosperity? Where else in the Empire can you find towns and cities so pristine and well ordered? Stability is the cardinal virtue. In a world as deadly as ours, the Lords of Heavens Peaks have carved out a bastion of peace and order. Here wild spirits do not test our defenses, bound instead by ritual and precedent dating back to the age of dragons.

    Under the harmony of the ministries the nobility limits their plays for power to each other, and so long as the bureaucracy functions what matter is if some decadent fools cannot live up to the wisdom of their fathers? The temples once created strife, bending people's attention away from their duty and proper status, but they have long since been tamed. That is the true lesson to be learned of the Sage. Cultivation is dangerous. Spirits are dangerous. It is said that the highest cultivators are greater than a thousand wise men and sages, but so are they worse than a thousand madmen and murderers. Cultivation is an amplification of the self, far past human limits and even if we no longer articulate it, the people of the Peaks understand this. Spirits and spirit beasts are a hundredfold worse in their intractability to society's order.

    The Sage Emperor, The Usurper Shang Tsung, the Three Jewel Emperors, the Twilight King. These were all men of the same cloth, Great Men, whose genius was fit to change the very bones of the world. And they were each and every one of them terrible in their way. They bring ruin and death, even when they build as well. Such is the way the Eighth realm. A titan crushes others under their feet, even when they walk with the best of intentions.

    So, stability and order. The dangers of cultivation may be curbed when children are taught from a young age to respect ritual and precedent. This discipline must extend through all levels of society to be effective, down to fashions and interpersonal relations. When those with the greatest experience and wisdom are obeyed reflexively, and only questioned with great care and thought, harmony is achieved. From harmony arises prosperity and peace. When all actions have a well codified etiquette to them, even the most divergent of cultivators can avoid disrupting society overmuch. Many see us as stagnant, proud and even cruel in our ways, but is it not better for a few individuals to suffer, so that the people may live peaceful, stable lives?

    It is true that things must change at times, the ascension of the Mu is proof of that, but such changes must be agreed upon by the wise, who stand above the petty nobility and masses, and so can see the correct course. The Mu are thus the obvious choice. They are among those whose decisions have guided the realm since the Cataclysm, through weak Emperors and strong. They understand what sort of person is best for the throne, stable, unambitious, even tempered.

    This is true at every level. Those who push for change must always be scrutinized deeply, and their ambitions checked, no matter how well they speak of the problems they wish to solve. Long experience shows that allowing them their way brings only misery and disorder. Similarly, although they were instrumental to the Empire's rise, it has become increasingly clear that those who mix their blood with spirits are too unstable to be trusted. Their very nature makes them unable to fully integrate with natural hierarchy which must rule mankind if we are to have peace rather than constant war.

    It may be difficult for you to understand now young one, but with my guidance, you will come to see that it is necessary. Let others call our laws and ways stifling, you need but look out over the Imperial City at night, with its sparkling lights, clean streets and happy people to know that they are wrong. As my apprentice, you will learn the precedent of each law and custom and limitation that might seem foolish to your young eyes.

    And, when you begin to approach my age, you will understand that they are truly for everyone's benefit.

    Second to last Head of the Imperial Archive to his apprentice.



    ***​






    You want to know of our neighbors my boy, and how a man such as the Sage could have arisen from such stiff necked prudes? Fool! Don't come to me expecting a simple answer. But halt your feet and cool your temper a moment, and this old woman might be inclined to give you the pieces you need to work it out yourself. The First thing you need to understand is Dragons!

    Yes, that's right, dragons. Don't you groan at me boy, it's not my fault the fat lizards get themselves into everything. You see the thing is where our great ancestor Zhi took one look at the senile old 'god' still trying to rule our mountains, she scoffed, broke his back and then his head! Then she took his slaves and made them her people, living in the halls of Shuilian and letting folk better suited to it figure out how to reproduce the old stonework. That's all the respect dragons deserve my boy, give 'em a good punch and they'll fold easy enough. They're strong but not invincible. Don't entertain their pretensions.

    The thing is, the Celestial Peaks never had anyone so wise and strong of arm as Zhi. True, the dragons there were as broken as the others so they didn't truly rule most of the land, but those damn fool Peak's folk just kept worshipping them anyway. That's why they're such a prickly bunch. I bet half of 'em are so annoyed by the Bai because they're jealous they don't have scales. Not a bad thing to appreciate, I met a lad from the Thousand Lakes once with the smoothest…

    What? Right, Peaks folks.

    Point is when they were setting up they got it into their heads that the lizards were the ones to emulate. Everyone had to have their place and everyone had to be in their place. Like a dragon, they get real huffy with anyone who doesn't fit their view of the hierarchy. That's where all this duke and count and baron business comes from, neat little boxes that don't always quite fit as snug as they'd like. They jam everyone in 'em regardless though. Getting to the actual reason you're asking this boy, the reason that pretty girl the ambassador brought with him won't give you the time of day is related to.

    You see dragons are as greedy as they are proud, and they don't accept equals, never. So you can guess everything involved in love and sex gets tied up in knots. The lizards want to practically own their partners and Peaks folks ain't much better. One person, forever? Pfah, romance like that's rare as Hen's teeth. Maybe for a mortal whose only got a few decades to spend that makes sense, but not for a cultivator. The other problem of course is all that inheritance business they do. It's nonsense it is even leaving out the part where you trace the bloodline through a man.

    If you want so much as my extra wine gourd after I shuffle off, you'll have to earn it boy. Same as any of your brothers and sisters. If you don't deserve my treasures they'll go back to the clan as is proper. But Peaks folks don't think that way. They want all their things to stay theirs, and that means they have to go to their brats. An' because of that, they have to control real strict like who sticks their cock in who. So of course they invent a bunch of rituals around it, bind it with contract and tradition and hierarchy until all the joy of life has been squeezed out and you've got naught but fake smiles and cold feet in the bed.
    Pfah, and they have the gall to say that their way shows truer love.

    Even their festivals and parties are staid, lifeless things, where everything happens in good order and if there's a surprise everyone involved will be shamed and apologizing for a decade over it. Now, it's true that there are plenty of good friendly folks in the Peaks that just need a little nudge to drop their own chains. There are plenty though that like those chains and will be mortally offended by any effort to free them.

    What, the Sage? I was getting there boy.

    See the Sage came through the tribes of the Peaks like an avalanche. They'd been dancing their fossilized little dance ages at that point, maybe they'd have unified on their own at some point, assuming we or the Bai didn't decide to kick over their basket at some point. Oh but then this youngster comes through and breaks everything on his own! He ignores their traditions, slaps aside their big men and speaks to their people on his own, and oh did they listen. Y'see the Sage was the closest thing a man's ever come to being a dragon. A dragon will sit around in it's cloud or river or cave for ages, nursing grudges and sniping at his fellows, but the Sage was a man of passion. His words whipped up the pride and greed in men's hearts, and he burned down the other leaders of the Peaks t the cheers of their own soldiers.

    That's the thing most legends leave out boy, that man had a voice. A voice fit to make men stab their own kin and seduce the coldest serpent.

    Huh, why'd we join him? Cause it seemed like a good laugh. There was drinking with the old reveler and contests and whatnot. It wasn't like it was hard to find a Zheng girl who wanted on the wild ride if you get me boy. Course we weren't aware of just how much a dragon he was at that point. We'd seen him cast down the stuffy order of the peaks, and take up wild challenges… but in the end a dragon is a dragon. In the end the only thing he changed was building the whole rotten mess back up with himself at the center.

    Nowadays we stick around because the rest don't stick their noses in our business much, and fighting wars is nasty business.

    Mm? There's a difference between fighting and wars boy and don't you forget it. Fighting is a few wrecked buildings and broken bones and two new brothers or sisters going home to drink; it's an idiot villain trounced and getting hailed as a hero as you throw open his stores for common folk. Wars are a field of dust where there were cities; they're a thousand thousand wraiths and spirits wailing hate and vengeance under an ash choked sky. Don't talk to me about war boy, especially not using the words of those red turban fucks. Where'd you even go hearing nonsense like that boy? You tell your Sifu right this damned second.

    --Partial recording of a Zheng Elder, dating from two centuries after the end of the strife.
     
  • Sidestory
    • I don't think either of these people are fully right, but I find myself much more sympathetic to the Zheng point of view. It's interesting to get a look in to the philosophies of the disparate groups of the Empire though.
     
    Will we try to catch the river eel ?
    Ling qi have to have a dragon type in the team
    We have ice type , wood and fire type , fairy and psychic type ? What type Will be the dress :V pokemon...
     
    ParticipantAward said:
    Huh, I guess the Mu weren't all that impressed with the Imperial Archive after all.
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    Well, odds are the Mu were pretty content with them until that dangerous Prince An took charge and did not take kindly to the idea that he's not supposed to reform the shit out of the empire.

    HeWhoLurks said:
    I think this means he was the head before the previous head. And that there's still one around today.
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    There's a preeeeeeeetty strong implication that when Jiao and Emperor An were doing their whole empire wide reform thing and ran into a Head of the Imperial Archive with an attitude like:
    yrsillar said:
    Those who push for change must always be scrutinized deeply, and their ambitions checked, no matter how well they speak of the problems they wish to solve.
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    That head might not have kept their own head very long.
     
    It's unfortunate that Ling Qi is unlikely to have much reason to interact with the Zheng for quite a while. They seem very fun, and watching her assumptions and biases run headfirst into their culture sounds very entertaining.
     
    adaer said:
    It's unfortunate that Ling Qi is unlikely to have much reason to interact with the Zheng for quite a while. They seem very fun, and watching her assumptions and biases run headfirst into their culture sounds very entertaining.
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    Ling Qi: "Meizhan, Meizhan help! I don't understand how to interact with them!"

    Bai Meizhan: "Don't worry, over many thousands of years of study the Bai have long since determined the best method for peaceful interaction with the Zheng. Punch them in the face."

    Ling Qi: ".........huh?"
     
    Nervaqus987 said:
    Ling Qi: "Meizhan, Meizhan help! I don't understand how to interact with them!"

    Bai Meizhan: "Don't worry, over many thousands of years of study the Bai have long since determined the best method for peaceful interaction with the Zheng. Punch them in the face."

    Ling Qi: ".........huh?"
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    Meizhen: "Then get absolutely falling down drunk with them afterwards, that's a really key element to opening any long term negotiations. First the punch, then drinking. Some scholars however have reported that the reverse has also worked but to a lesser degree depending on how much alcohol you have on hand."

    *some time later*

    CRX: "Gan Guangli, I need you be my lead negotiator for a coming gathering..."
     
    Neshuakadal said:
    They have never been mentioned before, but they are clearly a reference to the yellow turban rebellion during the waning years of the Han Dynasty.
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    Or they were reference to Red Turban rebellion which is kinda less known despite exterminating Mongol dynasty, restoring Han rule and causing serious genocide of non-Han (especially Mongol) population in core areas followed by mass migration and Han-ization campaign.
     
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    al103 said:
    Or they were reference to Red Turban rebellion which is kinda less known despite exterminating Mongol dynasty, restoring Han rule and causing serious genocide of non-Han (especially Mongol) population in core areas followed by mass migration and Han-ization campaign.
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    That's possible, but given when these writings seem to be taking place, during the reign of several weak emperors prior to the rise of Emperor An, it seems far more likely that the red turbans of FOD were a reaction to the weak central authority of the Peaks.
     
    Neshuakadal said:
    That's possible, but given when these writings seem to be taking place, during the reign of several weak emperors prior to the rise of Emperor An, it seems far more likely that the red turbans of FOD were a reaction to the weak central authority of the Peaks.
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    Yellow Turban rebellion broke central authority even more. Red Turbans eventually lead to strong central authority. So it's an interesting question.
     
    Neshuakadal said:
    That's possible, but given when these writings seem to be taking place, during the reign of several weak emperors prior to the rise of Emperor An, it seems far more likely that the red turbans of FOD were a reaction to the weak central authority of the Peaks.
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    The second passage is from two centuries after the strife, which is, from what I gather, is millennia before An.
     
    Pathos said:
    Meizhen: "Then get absolutely falling down drunk with them afterwards, that's a really key element to opening any long term negotiations. First the punch, then drinking. Some scholars however have reported that the reverse has also worked but to a lesser degree depending on how much alcohol you have on hand."

    *some time later*

    CRX: "Gan Guangli, I need you be my lead negotiator for a coming gathering..."
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    I'd love if it becomes a thing for Ling Qi to get stupid drunk as a way to loosen up and socialize when appropriate. Moon raves, Zheng, various drug and booze fueled parties with Weilu Conservatives, vodka diplomacy with Ice Witches. Li Suyin showed there's precedent for spirits in the Emerald Seas demanding cultivators getting drunk and partying with them to make pacts. Just with people and to relax, just often enough it becomes a thing among her friend group that Ling Qi is the one who gets insanely drunk and goes on wild benders. Ling Qi the happy drunk that can say and do things that sober Qi can't.
     
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