If Xing Mantian excelled at one thing, it was meditation. Even with her talent, time became illusive in the depths of the soul, communing with her own energy and that of the world beyond. Peace and harmony reigned, until she opened her eyes and returned to physical reality.

  The waking world never failed to disappoint. Here, matters were complicated, and she didn’t have the luxury of peace and time to untangle them. She had to endure people.

  She emerged from her private meditation chamber in the inner barracks. These were not the usual drab, utilitarian housings one would expect of the military. Even if they were Outer Disciples, this was the Sect of the Imperial Household: the decorations were intricate and oppressive in beauty and age, the grounds were spotless, the colors vibrant.

  The usual sights greeted her as she underwent the military post-meditation rituals: cultivators sparring, mortal attendants scurrying around underfoot, and the dreaded paperwork. But something was different.

  Perhaps her own Dao revealed it to her, perhaps it was obvious to everyone. A dark mood pervaded the bustle. Those trading pointers vented excessive frustration, the mortals kept their eyes downturned, and there was very little in the way of military jocularity. Very few spoke to each other at all.

  An ornate calendar featured prominently in the center of the training area, for those in just such a position as herself. Apparently, she had been down for four years this time.

  “Senior Sister! Senior Sister Mantian!” Not surprisingly, the first to greet her after her awakening was Gaoshu, her immediate subordinate. Before she could say a word, he gave her a half-hearted smile and kept going. “It’s good to see you up.”

  “I can’t say it’s good to be up,” she said, pointedly shifting her gaze around the room.

  He winced. “I wish I could salve that for you, but I have a message. Your grandfather wants to see you, immediately.”

  “Immediately?”

  “I’m afraid so, no time to get your bearings. Congratulations, by the way!”

  “For what?” She put her hands on her hips and cocked her head, but he only shrugged.

  “You’ll see.”

  When the Great General called, anyone would answer. His granddaughter was no exception.

  General Xing’s private wing of the barracks was less an office and more a palace. The zone had been totally remodeled since the war, with carvings and tapestries depicting his victories against the Tiger Clans lining every applicable surface. He despised every inch of these, but what could he do?

  Mantian encountered only a single person on the way to her grandfather’s meeting chamber, waiting just outside the room on a lavish couch. The man in question could not have been less lavish himself: handsome, but rigid and composed, like a statue. She watched his eyes dart to her approaching form, his whole body jolting in preparation to rise- until he saw her face. Then he relaxed back into the seat.

  It was almost comforting. Almost. She gave him a nod in greeting. “Do you have business with the Great General?”

  “Yes, but I am content to wait. I know that the General must be a busy man. Are you his secretary?”

  She gave him a gentle smile. She could forgive a lot, because it would be hilarious when he discovered her identity. “Shall I take a message in for you?”

  He waved her away. “No, no. My business is known to him.”

  “May I ask after this business?”

  Apparently seeing no need for secrecy with ‘the help,’ he shrugged. “Apparently, his third granddaughter has newly awakened from a long period of meditation. Today will be our first meeting; we are to be wed.”

  She blinked. Handsome. Not overbearing… and a cultivator, but then again no dishonor would condemn her to marrying a mortal. This man was at the very knife’s edge of that level, she sensed no power beyond the Student’s Realm from him. What could this be about?

  Bidding him farewell, she pulled open the door adorned with steel and warded with protective formations. Within the soundproof room, her grandfather awaited her.

  This room, at least, he could decorate to his own spartan standard. Two chairs for visitors, a few maps on the walls, shelves lined with scrolls on warfare and cultivation, a large table, a desk piled with paper, and a hidden window peeking out into the blue sky beyond the mountain wall. The obnoxious opulence outside had no hold here.

  “Mantian. Was your meditation fruitful?” General Xing sat behind his desk, near the window. His long mustache bore no hint of grey despite his advancing age, and a graceful topknot adorned his head; immaculate, as always.

  She bowed deeply at the waist. “I have achieved the sixth Stage, Honored Grandfather.”

  “Fine progress,” he nodded, adding, “though you’ll find the world has not been still in the time your door has been closed.”

  He gestured her further in, and her posture relaxed slightly. “I can see that. For one thing, you’ve finally found me a marriage. I thought the ‘Bloodless Breath’ would at least fetch more than a Student,” she said, stepping forward.

  “Fear not. I’ve vetted him thoroughly, though the arrangement was set by higher hands than mine. He’s an honorable, reliable man- used to be a Master, in fact.”

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  That stopped her. Her eyebrows knitted together. “Injured in battle?”

  “Angered the Empress. Some slight against her son, I understand…”

  In an instant, the conversation had surpassed her depth. She knew the Empress’ son, and any offence that angered her would surely provoke the same reaction in Mantian. She found herself raising her shoulders instinctively.

  Her grandfather cut it off before it could build. “Nothing heinous, more a mixture of bad timing and overly-rigid moral character.” He pitched his voice into a subtly soothing tone, the way he did when pronouncing something important but unpleasant. “The Empress might have been a bit harsher than normal. You see, Zhang was the last man in the city to see the First Prince as he left for his Dao Journey.”

  As he let that hang in the air, the General got up and walked to the window, turning his back to her. She had to run that back through her mind a couple of times. “Dao Journey? It’s only been four years, Huang Ji- I mean, the First Prince is only twelve years old!”

  “Actually, this all happened three and a half years ago.” That left her silent again, and he continued. “A confluence of unfortunate factors. The prince managed to Awaken just after his ninth birthday, but… well, apparently his difficult birth resulted in lasting consequences. No potential for core formation. The lad’s father was less than pleased, and his mother was half a continent away! Hardly a month later, the First Prince begged the Core Disciples to let him go on the Journey. I suppose he just felt trapped.”

  “Nobody stopped him?”

  “In fact, the Emperor was quite enthusiastic about the idea.”

  Unbidden, memories played across her mind: a tiny, golden-haired child, finding her in the courtyard and climbing up onto her lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. That same child taking her to ‘infiltrate’ the palace kitchens to make sweets for his aunt. Mantian had to pretend not to notice the kitchen staff pretending not to notice, the lot stifling giggles. The little boy ended up covered head-to-toe in flour, and she had to use an alchemical agent to get the honey out of his hair.

  Stacks of paper piled up on the desk vibrated. Shelves rattled, buffeted by the waves coming off of her as she boiled over. Her grandfather didn’t have to say another word, because she recognized a new problem, and it doused her mounting rage like a bucket of ice water.

  In fact, the realization left her entire body frozen. That boy wasn’t just a cute, sweet child, or even just the son of the Emperor. He was the firstborn son of the Rosegold Paragon. The Tiger Clans built their entire culture around fidelity to blood-kin, and the Clan of the Rosegold Eye was positioned squarely in the center of it all. In the Empire, to discard your own child- that was vile, but hardly unheard of. To the Clans?

  Mantian’s heels clicked together as she brought fist to palm in a military salute, back straight and voice harder than stone. “Great General, I assume you’ll want the veterans to amass Westward?”

  “Are you still disoriented from emergence? The war is well over, girl.” He spoke in his ‘the walls have ears and eyes’ voice. “No, obviously all of the current threats to the Empire are internal. In fact, the positions West of the Sweeping Wall Range are being dismantled as we speak.” Her grandfather and commander turned from the window, blazing eyes locking onto hers.

  That look. That look. She’d seen it too many times over their fifty years campaigning together. The look that said, ‘this is not a ploy, a tactic, or a feint. This is the official, enforced position. Orders from The Top.’

  What made the Great General great? How had he earned so many honors, while his peers faced censure or execution? Simple: General Xing kept the worst communication network in the entire Army. His Speaking Crystals were maliciously sabotaged by the enemy- three hundred miles from the front, in a secure warehouse, in unmarked containers. His errand-riders and messengers, he recruited from the ranks of the badly wounded and crippled. He would break a good position to strike days before reinforcements were projected to arrive, if there were even the slightest chance they would come bearing new orders. Orders from The Top.

  Mantian shrivelled, deflating. This was all just too much. She had only been down for four years. Could she have changed anything, if she had remained awake and active? “Ah, I see. May I sit down?”

  “Certainly. There are more personal matters to discuss, such as your impending marriage.” The ‘eyes-and-ears’ voice was still very much in effect, and he began accenting particular words as he gestured her to a chair and made for the door. “Now, I know the young man is weak, but there’s no cause for worry. Did you see him as you came in?”

  “Er, yes, Grandfather,” she said, taking the offered seat.

  “Excellent, then we know exactly where he is. But I’d like to be here for your formal introduction, just to make sure the situation is stable.”

  The door was opened, and Zao Zhang was brought in, but Mantian’s mind was miles away. Okay, so Huang Jin was secure enough not to panic over, for the present. But thoughts of the Tiger Clans consumed her attention.

  Thinking it over, It made sense that they hadn’t struck yet. If Huang Jin returned after his Journey, then it might be interpreted as a matter of accurately pushing his martial boundaries- and that was celebrated in the Clans. It would only be abandonment if the child actually died or disappeared. That still meant it all hung on a knife’s edge.

  Introductions were made while she had hardly a thought to spare for her new fiancee. Rather a pity, because she’d been looking forward to this part of the process just a few minutes ago. When Zao’s eyes bulged upon seeing her seated there, she couldn’t even find it that funny.

  “Then… you are the one they call the Bloodless Breath? In the Realm of the Brilliant Soul?” Surprise overwhelmed him, and that stoic face hung slack.

  She just barely mustered the energy to give him a lazy wave of the hand. “It’s okay, say it out loud. We already know you’re thinking it, might as well get it out of the way now.”

  Zao shifted his eyes from her freckled face to General Xing a couple of times. When the General nodded gravely, he said it. “... What did you look like before?”

  Cultivation sharpened appearance. High-level cultivators were invariably either handsome, beautiful, or intimidating… often all at once. Mantian’s own looks had made the marginal shift from ‘homely’ to ‘average.’ “There was a war on, and I didn’t feel the need to focus on it,” she said, as she had a hundred times before.

  That snapped him back to his senses, and he apologized profusely. The meeting carried on. Still, she couldn’t take pleasure in it. Her mind drifted away, wondering just what the First Prince could be doing right now, and if he understood the consequences his actions could bring down on their heads. She hoped he didn’t.

  -

  Huang Jin entered the ‘departure room’ bearing his package of materials, as instructed. As soon as he opened the door, he saw his Master standing in the midst of a large and complicated formation. She wore a scandalous, black-and-white two-piece bathing suit, a massive pair of sunglasses with a similarly-oversized sun hat, and bore around her waist a flotation device shaped like a flamingo.

  “Get in the circle, loser! We’re goin’ to the beach!”