Tian watched the Emissary depart the next morning, carrying a letter back to Wuusan. The real answer was that the emissaries returned alone. “I am a servant of the Son of Heaven, and none other. You ask why I should believe my Emperor is Heaven’s chosen, and not you, but I could ask the same of you. Why should I believe two shamans I don’t even know? If there is to be war, then let there be war. We are in agreement on one thing. Once there is war, who can say what will happen?”
Tian had half expected the City Lord to cut a deal and sell out the city. Wuusan was famous for making, and honoring, such deals. It seemed that some in the kingdom’s elite still had their spine. When he thought about it, the City Lord hadn’t done anything to make Tian think he was particularly weak or corrupt. He couldn’t be blamed for failing to root out the Jin or the Long clans. Even trying would see him, and his family, dead, and nothing would change.
Refusing to surrender could also see him and his family dead. Nevertheless, he didn’t try to send his family away. Tian saw an old cavalryman in fine steel armor, long red plume trailing behind his helmet, riding through town with a bright-eyed teenage girl on a fine horse beside him. He recognized Little Bai, the girl he saved from being murdered by Jin the first time Tian came to Burning Flag City.
She had grown a lot. She wasn’t going to be the classical ‘jade beauty,’ what with riding out on the steppes all her life, but she was lively, laughing, and carried herself with a bold confidence that must have utterly slayed the young troopers of the Red Plume Army. Grandfather and grandaughter, riding together through the city. A very public sort of message. It was the kind of visible propaganda people believed.
Little Bai looked like she was growing well. That was good to see.
Tian tapped his lip, thinking. Hanshen had mentioned a relief column of soldiers was coming, though “not enough” of them. Tian had expected them by now. It might not be enough to defeat the Yuu permanently, whatever that might mean, but maybe it would make an open fight more unappealing. Of course, the Yuu could cut off the city from the rest of the Kingdom again. Soldiers without a supply line died quickly.
Tian tapped his lip some more, hoping it would make his brain work better. It didn’t really help. Ultimately, this wasn’t a problem he could solve. He was breathing too much mortal air. Too focused on the immediate and the mundane. What could he do that the Mortals couldn’t, that wouldn’t see him taking on endless sin?
Mmm. Tian rubbed the back of his neck, putting together a few pieces. The Yuu liked to set up ambushes. They could use that, ambush the ambushers. The Yuu also believed, with justice, that they controlled the timing and location of battle. Their mobility on horseback ensured that. Or it did if you didn’t have two high level cultivators on hand with flying swords and a flying boat.
It felt like nibbling at the edges of the problem, not the sort of moves that could change the whole situation.
Now seems like an excellent time to remind you that reviewing the organizational table of the empire’s bureaucracy as it applies to supernatural activity would be quite useful.
Tian blinked, then pulled out one of his books. “You mean the Ministry of Rituals, right?”
Right. Incidentally, this should all seem VERY familiar to you.
Tian was drawing a blank, but kept reading through what the ministry did.
“The Son of Heaven, on behalf of the Celestial Emperor and his deified forebearers, may confer upon deserving…” Even in his mind, Tian’s thoughts trailed off. He started stroking his chin.
“Grandpa, you said almost anything could have a spirit, right?”
Right.
“Does someone need to die near it for it to have a spirit?”
No, not at all. It helps, but it’s not remotely required.
“Could we somehow use our spirits to defeat their spirits?”
Usually, using something we don’t know how to do against something they do know how to do is a losing strategy. Lucky for you that while you might be ignorant, the mortals aren’t. It isn’t just possible, it’s routine. Naturally, I have a simpler, better way.
Grandpa explained what he had in mind, and Tian had to bury his face in his hands and groan. It wouldn’t be enough by itself. Grandpa made that very clear. But it was one more piece they could add, one more bit of strength.
What else could he do?
Medicine. You aren’t the only Immortal Doctor in the city.
“I thought I was?”
Remember Hou? He might have just been “muddling about” in the Bamboo Medicine Hut, but he still rose through the ranks there. He spent literally decades working in medicine and around hospitals before he reached Level Nine. He will have more of a foundation in medicine than any of the quacks in the city. More than you, when you get right down to it. Outside of what Voidcatcher taught you, of course.
There was a pause.
I miss him, and I don’t mind saying so. It was so good to see a kindred spirit living well.
Tian felt a sudden urge to apologize for not leading the life of a bandit, but controlled himself. Presumably, Grandpa didn’t actually want him to-
Just run around, kill people and take their stuff. Or swindle it, or rob tombs, steal natural treasures from monsters, it’s really the right way to attain immortality. The crappy conditions here are really limiting your growth. The sooner you can get Little Han squared away and collect the other half of Voidcatcher’s disciple, the sooner we can get back to proper cultivating.
“I am sure that’s not right.”
There was a ghostly snicker. What, you think you would be better off closing up in a cave for a few decades, patiently running the same breathing loop year after year, slowly building up your qi drop by drop? Nah. Sucker’s bet. Go kill more monsters and monstrous beings. The more energy cores we can integrate into your energy body, the better.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on NovelFire. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
There was an audible hesitation, then in a considerably more circumspect voice, Grandpa added, “Though I would be misleading you if I failed to mention that many daoist practitioners, respectable ones who made real contributions to the field, believe that before one can really close up and cultivate in seclusion, you have to accumulate merit by, among other things, being a valuable, ethical member of society. I’m not saying they are right. I’m just saying it is something to keep in mind.
Tian summoned Hou. “How are you doing?”
“Thriving, thanks to you, your Emminence.”
“Your cultivation improved. Already back to Level Eight. Well done.”
“The Fire Breath Heart Refining Art you bestowed upon me is domineering and glorious. It was like adding wings to a tiger. Now I just need to ensure I am a tiger.”
Tian controlled the urge to shake his head. Tigers were powerful, but what he needed was a doctor, not someone with a transformation art.
“How is the fight training going?”
“The martial brothers and sisters have been very kind in sharing their wisdom with me and letting me spar with them. It was… humbling. But now I have at least a little confidence.”
Tian gave him a once-over, and shook his head. “Don’t be confident, even a little bit. You have no reason to be confident. You need much, much more practice. Unfortunately, I am saddling you with another job on top of the one you already have.”
“This Hou awaits your command!”
“You might not be a doctor by the standards of the Bamboo Medicine Hut, but you are certainly a better doctor than any of the locals. I will test your knowledge, then send you out to observe the mortals in their practice. When I am not around, I hope you can step in to heal the wounded. I won’t ask you to do it for free. I have copied out some information on herbs and their effects that you will find is much more correct than the manuals you will have seen, as well as some notes on acupuncture. These are, again, considerably high quality. Better than what the Ancient Crane Monastery has, in fact. By a lot.”
Hou went glassy eyed, nearly staggering. Tian quite understood. He wouldn’t want a second job landing on him from a great height either.
“However, the acupuncture manual comes with an additional requirement. Should you ever commit a serious medical error, be it in judgement or technique, you must study your failure, learn from it, make it as right as you can manage, and then blame your failure on the inadequate teachings of Daoist Earth's Blessing. Don’t ask who it is. Just be sure and blame him for everything. And, if necessary, be creative about it. Should you ever transmit this information to another, and I permit you to do so, they must also accept that rule, as must those they transmit this information to, and so on.”
Once Hao was taken care of, Tian started meditating on what else a Heavenly Person could do to help prepare the city. Communications and logistics were the next obvious thing- running supplies and coordinating other parts of the military. That was one of the things he knew the Martial Aunts and Uncles had been doing in the Redstone Wastes. His little courier jobs were just work the seniors couldn’t be bothered with. The real couriers were all at the Heavenly realm, flying around at high speeds, delivering storage rings full of high value equipment. To say nothing of delivering cultivators to the various forward bases.
Tian didn’t have a sky barge, so he wouldn’t be moving troops around. And he still had to sort out the blockade issue. That wouldn’t be simple. Well yes it was simple, he just had to kill all the Great Shamans, it just wouldn’t be easy. No, no use thinking about that now. What could he do…
It all came down to making sure communications didn’t stay severed between Burning Flag City and the rest of the kingdom. It was like Go. So long as the pieces could breathe, all was well. They died when they got cut off. But Tian didn’t have a single piece to spare to bridge the gap. Or… did he?
He did have one spare piece. He just had to be used in the right place, and at the right time. Tian had an idea where that might be, and until then, he knew exactly where the young man could be most profitably placed.
Han was relaxing in a bath at the moment. Truly relaxing. The young man loved bathing, so his teacher supported him. Tian had made a point of ordering Han to collect incense he enjoyed the scent of, any (non-medicinal) herbs he enjoyed in the bath, as well as a selection of gentle soaps. There was a consultation over the best size and shape for a tub, and a commission made with a skilled woodworker. There was a discussion on heating the water, and maintaining the tub temperature, then arrangements were made with the City Lord’s servants. Whatever he needed to make his time in the tub as soul-soothing as possible. Han’s determination to bathe at least once a day was odd, but it also meant his muscles and nerves could completely relax. And relaxation was vital to growth.
Tian might be petty, but not so petty that he would sabotage his student. He had even offered to pay for musicians to accompany him as he bathed, but according to Han, he wouldn’t be able to relax as everyone watched him and played music. Which was fair. Mental relaxation was as important as physical relaxation. It couldn’t be treated casually.
He… was about to do something unfair, on several levels, wasn’t he? Tian shook his head. “Student Han, when you are done with your bath, come see me. Don’t rush it. It will keep.”
Han knew him well enough to take his words seriously. He didn’t rush. Tian was glad. This was probably the last time he could properly relax until who knows when. Tian slowly explained what he had in mind, and where he saw things ultimately going.
“Charitably, we could describe it as seeking a path to life through death. As in, if things go as I expect, you will more likely than not die. I hope you don’t. I sincerely hope I have done enough to prepare you. But since I will likely have already died by the time you die, the best I will be able to do is try to linger on the path a little while with Liren, and accompany you to Hell.”
Han already had his slate out, and his brush moving. “Teacher says too much. When can I begin?”
“After I give you one final teaching. My brothers told me this, and I never listened to them. I wish you had let me finish before you said that, so you would have a chance to benefit from it. ‘In any situation where an army is involved, never, under any circumstances, no matter how good it sounds, never evervolunteer!’”
Tian found the City Protector in a study in the City Lord’s manor. Apparently, supreme military authority in the city didn’t lie with the Red Plumed General, but with this surprisingly vital elder. He sat like a soldier. If you had told Tian he was a trooper out of armor, he would have believed it. His title was well earned. He wasn’t a cultivator, but he had gathered enough internal energy to be just at the cusp of it.
The room he relaxed in didn’t look like his private residence, merely a place where he was waiting for something. In the meantime, he was reading, enjoying a cup of tea, and the scent of the sweet air blowing in from the garden.
“May I ask what the City Protector is reading?”
The old trooper didn’t turn a hair at the sudden appearance of a white haired young man in ragged funeral clothes outside the window. The fact that they were on the second floor gave some clues as to Tian’s identity.
“One of the classics on war. Perhaps the Heavenly One has read it?”
Heavenly One? Tian hadn’t heard that epithet before. “My reading is mostly on medicine, history and ethics. I have not read any manuals on warfare. What did you read that made you smile?” Tian could use some cheering up. Maybe military manuals had jokes.
The City protector cleared his throat. “Military tactics are like water, which runs away from high places, and rushes downwards. So, in war, the way is to avoid what is strong, and to strike at what is weak. Water shapes its course according to the nature of the ground over which it flows. The soldier works out his victory in relation to the foe in which he is facing. Therefore, just as water retains no constant shape, so in warfare, there are no constant conditions. He who can modify his tactics in relation to his opponent, and thereby succeed in winning, may be called a Heaven-born General.”
The old trooper gently closed the book. Tian found himself smiling too, though probably not for the same reasons. Daoist generals. He would have bet there was no such thing, but here he was, wrong again. But this time, happy to be wrong. There was a chance this might work after all.