“Might I ask the City Protector what orders he has from the Capital?”
“To hold the city, defend the people and suppress the rebellious tribes.”
Tian and the City Protector shared a look. It said a lot about orders divorced from reality.
“How does the City Protector see this campaign going? Please, speak candidly. You won’t offend me.”
“I can win one battle, or several, but holding out forever is impossible. Not without the Kingdom moving its army down south. All of it. But they can’t, since there aren’t any troops to spare.” The City Protector’s mouth went hard, and his eyes bored holes into Tian. “If it was simply a fort, I would withdraw to a place where I could maintain my supply lines. But it’s not a fort.”
Tian nodded. “What’s the population of the city?”
“Between the tax census and the gate records, and based on the consumption rate of the grain within the city… around a million people. Hopefully a little less than that now, but even going strictly by the tax records it would be at least eight hundred thousand.”
“Two hundred thousand people seems like a big number to be unsure of.”
“The tax records keep track of households, not individuals.” The City Protector snorted. Tian rapped his knuckles against his forehead. He had known that. Silly to forget. It wasn’t unusual for children to die, or mothers to die in childbirth. Houses didn’t move around so much, and fields didn’t move around at all. Someone would live in them, and farm on them. From the civil service’s perspective, they were much more sensible things to track. The logic applied even in cities.
“Evacuation is impossible, retreat is impossible, and even if it wasn’t unthinkable, surrender… has consequences, beyond merely the lives and treasure of the people and soldiers here.” Tian concluded.
“As the Heavenly One says. It would cost the Kingdom everything south of Red Reed Crossing where the Roaring Bull Army is headquartered at a minimum, and while Old Chu is a solid administrator, I don’t rate his chances fighting the Yuu. The Roaring Bulls are mostly infantry. Other than my Red Plume Army, the only other cavalry the kingdom has that could hope to match them is the White Horse Fellows stationed on the North West border. Even if they were all here, we would still be outnumbered and at a logistical disadvantage.”
“So not just the southern borderlands and the steppes. The Yuu could push straight into the heartlands of the kingdom.”
“Right.” The city protector snorted. “I know exactly why they are attacking now. I’d attack now. The Ancient may not know, but the kingdom has been damn short of war horses for years. Centuries, in fact. Just can’t seem to breed ‘em well in the interior, and there is nowhere near enough pasture land. It’s why we built the city all the way out here, and staked a claim on the steppes south of the Kingdom. We knew the supply situation was precarious. It was judged a worthwhile risk, so long as we could get the horses.”
Tian blinked at that, then smiled. “I really didn’t know. I’ve always been happiest on boats or the back of cranes. I will be conducting an eye-opening ceremony at the Shrine of the Martyr Venerable in a week. You may wish to attend, but it’s not required. If nothing else, it should boost morale in the city. My sect-sister and I will do our best to kill off the Grand Shamans and Shamans we encounter, and we plan to encounter as many as practicable. On the subject of resupply and reinforcements… Well, I can’t fix that, but I can help you get at least one message through. Maybe guide the relief troops that are supposed to be on their way.”
“The Heavenly One has a way to break the blockade?”
“Mmm. Well. Let us say that I am willing to stake my life to make a way.”
The City Protector snorted, but there was a thoughtful look hidden in his eyes.
“I wish to entrust someone to your care for a little while. Or, perhaps, I wish to loan you a tool. A warrior, not a soldier.” Tian continued.
“Who?”
“My student, Han Zichen. He’s a lousy fighter with an unhealthy dream of being a swordsman, but he is at least marginally quicker than some, and a bit harder to kill. He seems to know which end of a horse is up. I imagine that will help if you need someone to run an errand.”
The City Protector’s eyes widened. “Han the Silent Storm? He has already earned a little fame in the army. He will be of enormous help, if well used.”
“Under no circumstances tell him that. Make a point of always looking imposed upon, a little disappointed with his work, and make it clear that any rewards or compliments you are giving him come purely as a result of your commitment to military discipline. And discourage any such vulgar nicknames.” Tian’s eyes flew wide open, and he leaned forward halfway through the window.
“As you command!” The city protector gathered himself, straightening his tunic and trying to look casual. “Trying to keep the student humble is a key part of teaching. I suppose the Elder knows that better than I.”
“I have high hopes for Little Han, despite his present incapability. I would hate to see him ruined because of overconfidence.” Tian did his best to channel Brother Fu.
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on NovelFire. Report any occurrences.
Silence gathered in the room.
Tian shrugged and stood straight again. “I’m not so old that I have forgotten my own boyhood. A young man’s heart yearns for the romance of chivalry, and who am I to spoil his youth? We can revisit the subject of a fun nickname when he kills… let’s set a small goal of a thousand Yuu, or wins a hundred battles. Until then, he is Han Zichen. Make what use of him you like. So long as he is available at the right time.”
Tian flew off into the sky without another word, eyes upward, hands clasped behind his back. His ragged white robes fluttered in the warm wind, and his wild white hair fluttered with it. A watcher might have thought Tian a being that merely condescended to a human form, adding on the details it remembered from long ago to not frighten the limited beings still made of common clay. How far did his vision stretch, that life and death were merely drinking from two sides of the same cup? What thoughts, what transcendent insight drew his attention upward and into the infinite?
“Han the Silent Storm?! How? How did he get an excellent nickname like ‘Silent Storm’ after just a couple of scuffles? I didn’t have an honor name when I was his age, and I clawed my way out of a demon bird bigger than a pagoda. How many heretics could he have killed? A few dozen? No more than a hundred, surely. The heavens are blind!”
Tian gathered his books, all the manuals he had collected over the years, and laid out his plan for the sacrificial ritual. Grandpa guided him through it, steering him from passage to passage, section to section. It was insane. Impossibly complex in underlying structure, and the structure built on top of it wasn’t much simpler. It was as if every portion of esoteric daoism was combined into a single entity. Tian first thought it was like building a temple, but swiftly corrected himself. A temple is static. This was more like building the most impossibly complex carriage, including building from the dirt up nine dragons to pull it, while it was racing downhill. And it was all, technically, spellwork.
Stop being so dramatic. Mortal practitioners do this routinely. I’m not exaggerating one bit. It’s part of their regular worship schedule. You might want to drop in on the priests in the nearby shrines and watch them at work. It’s exactly this. I’m just showing you how to do it right, based on all the information available to you.
“I’m guessing that this version of right is not very right?”
It’s not… but it’s also not completely wrong either. “Right” in this context, as eternally correct as I am, is a bit tricky to define perfectly. Credit where it is due, this is something the Kingdom is good at. It’s right enough to work, and you did the hard parts already.
“No, I’m pretty sure this horrorshow is the hard part.”
Nah, this is just math, and astrology, coded references to divination manuals, seals, sigils, mantras, mudras, sacred art, sacred geometry, daoist metaphysics, daoist theology, cosmology, cryptography, color theory, psychology, amateur theatrics, internal alchemy, external alchemy, folk tradition, military strategy, acoustics, diet, medicine, proper conduct, the accumulation of social virtue, sacrificial rituals, metallurgy, numerology, and depending on how some people take it, self hypnosis. As well as a remarkable demonstration of the placebo effect. All the standard bits and bobs of any serious esoteric daoist practitioner’s tool set.
“Grandpa, I think you may have a very different understanding of what is, and is not, hard, compared to most people.”
Eh. You hang around long enough, you get a sense of averages. I’m not asking you for a solution to the three body problem or something. You are just inviting a spirit to make its hangout its home, and then wake it up a bit. By the time you put everything together on the day, it’ll seem easy.
“Does it have a solution?”
What?
“The three body problem, whatever that is?”
Oh that. Yeah, one of those things that is super obvious in retrospect, but it’s absurdly hard to figure out until you get there. Lot’s of people slapping their foreheads, much strong language, then decades later school kids are asking their teachers why the ancients thought this was hard, and were they just stupid? But it’s no use to you, so don’t worry about it. Now. Let’s talk robes. Got to look fresh for the big day. Presentation is key.
Liren took quite a bit of persuading, to Tian’s surprise.
“I distinctly remember Elder Feng telling you, right after you got stabbed and nearly died, that this was the kind of thing that tore apart kingdoms. Creating gods and cults is not something to play with.”
“The cult is already there. I’m trying to turn the fake into a reality, but without deluding myself that I am an actual god.”
“It’s more like taking everyone’s shared misunderstanding and making it a kind of god.”
“I’m thinking of it as the next step up from what we did with the Ghost King.” Tian smiled, remembering the ugly, if honorable, ghost. “Not a god-god, a local god. And investing statues and spirits with gods is, if not routine, not weird either. Technically, the local priests already did that. We are just reinforcing what they did.”
She looked over his plan, and slowly shook her head. “And… this will help?”
“Yeah. If I’m right, and I think I am, it will weaken the shamans around the city. Definitely inside the city, but maybe around it too. I don’t want an army of ghost wolves appearing in the streets and ripping people’s throats out, you know?”
“Fair.” Liren rubbed her face. “And you want me to do some calligraphy? You know my calligraphy isn’t anything special.”
“It could be. You are starting to infuse your dao into your paintings.”
“That’s a stretch.” She looked away, suddenly not willing to meet his eyes. “My technique is crap.”
“And I make a mediocre cup of tea compared to some of the mortals in the city. So what? It’s not about “good” or “bad,” it’s about spirit and intent and the dao. And you have tons of that.”
“Seriously, though, my calligraphy is completely basic. Han might have better calligraphy.”
“Handwriting and calligraphy are not the same thing, and you know it. Look, just try, okay? I had Little Han pick up some long yellow paper for you to practice on.”
“And this is the phrase you want? Nine characters, not too bad, but it’s not exactly short either.”
“Please?”
She groaned. “I just keep thinking about how the whole damn city is going to be looking at this for years. Decades if it works.”
“Centuries, actually. If it works. And it will.”
She stared at him for a long moment, then snorted. “You are lucky you’re cute. I’ll start with painting water on the flagstones, then move up from there. No need to waste paper just yet. This is going to need a lot of practice.”
“And it’s going to royally screw over the Yuu and their spirits. I just hope it doesn’t get more people killed.”