Pilgrim59
👑 Exalted Monarch 👑
SCENE 1: FROM THE ROOTS, TO HEAVEN.
Midnight / Daegis, 149 AC
Dao Chaolong
styled Jinlong
Orchid Manor, Weilang
Shu Jin
styled Saimon
Orchid Manor, Weilang
The heart of southern Chenbei and the crossroad of fateful encounters, Weilang remained dormant beneath the watchful gaze of the frigid heavens. The midnight silhouettes came in pairs, soliciting the void with their lanterns. Donning humble fabrics that complemented their armaments, these vigilant troopers safeguarded the dreams of their neighbors. Lanterns began to fade while the howling winds carried the denizens of Weilang through the land of dreams, but the wintry lullaby could not persuade the dim lit glow of the robust bastion of Orchid Manor. The heart of Weilang, the manor towered over the central district with its robust walls boasting the magnificence of the Dao family since their arrival from the north. As the structure spiraled upwards, a distinctive radiance emanated from the reticent Yan Garden of the manor. Beyond the veils of swaying trees and snow-laden shrubs, an enclosed structure resided on the edge of the elevated garden, where it retained a permanent sight of the entirety of the southern district. The frigid snow lingered, trickling occasionally from the fortified structure that overlooked the city.
The gentle breeze of Yanura's imminent warmth was in the form of a tranquil vessel that housed the patient efforts of a soft-spoken tortoise, whose gradual hands made sure to follow suit with the midnight ceremony that they were holding. Glowing optics beneath dark locks of flowing hair, matched only by their eloquent hands across the tea set that laid before them. Several candles situated themselves all around the room, unveiling the inhabitants' midnight gathering. Across from them was a white-haired individual, whose scarlet eyes were burning as brightly as they did that fateful day. The same man that exercised patience and prudence when they honored their pact by the Crimson River. A sorrowful man, whose waning hands were stirred into action by the one that sat across from him now. Out of the fires of their return to Weilang, a steely heart was forged. While the city sleeps soundly this night, the prodigal son must now face his heart’s febrile nature.
Despite the adequate and perhaps overbearing layers of apparel to keep them warm, as well as the warm cups of tea between the man and his master, the teamaster could not ignore the uninvited breeze that infiltrated their dwelling. Opaline trails of the swelling moon breached the gap in the ceiling, surrounding his master with its glowing veil. The Blue Tortoise was in the presence of the man that he owed his life to. A destiny that was only revealed to him upon his near departure from this realm - but his days have yet to be tallied. From nothing but drenched attires and distant words between weary strangers within a cramped sampan to a tidy lodge upon a frozen garden. Here they were, as master and servant, with facile complications of their intertwined path. The hole in the ceiling was reminiscent of the hole in the sampan’s covers that reminded the governor and their strategist of their humble journey. Despite the renovations that were offered by his lord’s subjects, the hole in the ceiling has yet to be addressed. So long as it remains unaddressed, the Blue Tortoise knew that their undeterred fealty had found a home, for the hole was a symbolic reminder that some noble works may yet be done.
The amber-eyed strategist finally unfurled his hands, lifting the vessel of tea with his long, elegant fingers. “Milord.” He offered, raising the bowl forward to level with his sight with great courtesy. The midnight tea meant more than an odd leisure, for this was the only time they finally found themselves in each other’s presence to look for their futures.
Fittingly, the Lord of Weilang was caught in the midst of prolonged journeys across thoughts and ephemeral landscapes; to take one step invites the presence of mountains, an undertaking can only be hard if it is endured. His penetrating gaze accompanying his mind across the upper-northern horizon, he continued his deep reflection. Having overcome a great task, he was already in the midst of another one, something which his companion no doubt knew fully. Whilst some things must be said, others are simply known. In their private leisure, the successor of Weilang had crossed his feet and tossed aside decorum, but all unto his own, his stature produced innate esteem. With his hand placed squarely upon the teacup, steam transferring its heat to the now Lord Dao, he invited his confidant and dear friend to speak through simple glance. The world was complex, and those who desired to retain power and create great things needed times, such as these, to contemplate. With their dominion nascent, greater challenges were an inevitability. On this matter, they no doubt thought much alike: what was to come, on the natural path for the two of them, was no secret.
Responding to the underlying tensions broiled by cosmic alignments held aloft by the circumstances of the continent, Shu Jin rose, and with him Dao’s gaze lowered to meet his movements. Snatching a candle from its post, he gradually glided past the bamboo curtain. A gentle hand undid the strings to unveil a vast parchment that encompassed the land. Dao took his first taste of the Nanbiao-tea, its taste warm yet frigid, lacking complexities, though elaborate in simplicity. The Blue Tortoise’s hand brushed over the imprinted illustrations softly, as the candle in their hand adjusted to their amber gaze. The candle hovered over the northern province of Bakliang, where the capital of Taiyang is shown, and Dao followed the light’s guidance. “In the far north, the Sanguine Tyrant rides on their flaming chariot, driven by their tamed wrath. While they may have shaken the heavens with their audacity, their path is one marked by perpetual ferocity and disharmony. Surrounded by enemies, their untenable position is bleak and their situation is endangered by the swaying hearts of the frontier marquises. But in the face of adversaries, their flames will burn ever brighter.” His coordinated sights and hand veered closer as Shu Jin panned the light towards the center-right side of the map.
“To the east of the Crimson River resides the remnants of Prince Majun’s loyalists. Many warlords and powerful nobles have rallied under the Tiger of Beiyan’s cause, raising war banners under the guise of aiding Majun’s cause. But the peas may overwhelm their stalks with time, should the ambitions of men remain unchecked. This is a speculative moment in Jianki’s history. The prince’s words were easily twisted by his hosts to the east. Qi Mon will surely use the prince’s name to fulfill his personal ambitions, making Seo Ji an enemy of Jianki. The coming years will make Jianki the proving ground for Seo Ji and Qi Mon. The fledgling and the cub must inevitably engage in battle, for the will of heaven will not tolerate coexistence between these ambitious behemoths. While their anticipatory clashes are distant, we must prepare ourselves to react accordingly.” Shu Jin gave his insights, with a dry smile almost forming on his countenance. It seemed as if the Blue Tortoise had expected such a crisis from long before. But even if he did, the will of the heavens will not reveal all the details until one has fulfilled their role. Looking back at his master briefly, the strategist got on his knees and shone the light over the familiar sight of Dao’s home.
“To the south, the combined ambitions of the River States will surely take them beyond the confines of the Fujin waterways. In time, our destiny will inevitably take us further south, so long as the Yuru continues to shine in the sky at night. Beware what arrives at our wharfs, for the Zhaos’ method of conquest is far from the swords and arms - their keen eyes and ears. But we are not alone, for opportune allies will present themselves in time.” Shu Jin's hands navigated the Fujin River, traversing the parchment with grace as his optics reminisced the conflicts of the distant future. He turned back towards his lord to address the fruits of their combined labors. The toils that have shaped Dao's resolve, guided by Shu Jin's profound hands, were now an attraction that beguiled their negligent neighbors' eyes. Where heroic feats were often sung, the young governor's path was one worthy of such recognition in the eyes of scheming politicians and cautious warlords alike. A new chapter to be written by the rightful ruler of Weilang, among the many tales of his future subjects. All that ends, must begin, so said the old principles of nature.
“Your uncle’s fleeting governance, while a bitter brew to digest, has served to remind the people of Weilang of the hardships ahead. While the blossom has yet to unveil its petals, it is wise to prepare the tea before it blooms. Your subjects now look to you for guidance. We must address the matter of the Wei rebels to the northwest and the Ganqing outlaws to the west, for we shall benefit greatly from our commitment.”
“Hanjun, home of the Qian family, has yet to see better days long before the young corporal Wei Jiang rebelled. For the last two years, the Qians resided in Cailang as a guest of the Xiang’s court in Miaolang and have made no effort to reclaim their home from the rebels. They say Wei Jiang is a warrior at heart, whose arms are only brought to bear against the Qians’ incompetent rule. A capable fighter, matched only by their composure, while Hanjun is a fertile and abundant land, uncultivated by shallow minds and feeble hands. A punitive expedition must be organized, lest the toils of your work be all for naught.” Reeling back to the task at hand, Shu Jin understood his lord's intentions with heart, as much as he was inclined to advise his Dao in any capacity. With the ever-changing state of Jianki's fractured heart, the ferryman that Shu first encountered upon the coursing Crimson River now had the eyes of the world upon him.
“While I may assist you in the matter of our armory stockpile and grains among the many things that can and will be attended to, the heart of Weilang’s might ultimately resides in your resolve.“ Shu Jin finally concludes the immediate situation of Weilang’s fate. Sashaying back to his seat, the Blue Tortoise cast aside the candle, relinquishing his grasp to be folded along with his posture.
“The Empire is undergoing a fever. A fever that invites opportunists and manipulators in these turbulent times. Few are eager to combat this sickness, save the few patriots and persons of honor. Weilang might be the cradle of your upbringing, milord, but the Lord-in-Metal cannot remain in the cradle forever. There is much to be done for many years to come. Blood will be spilled, and we will suffer along with the rest. Will your heart be as tranquil as your brush?” Shu’s eyes met Dao’s with a firm gaze. The aromatic Nanbiao blend rose into the air between them, perforating intentions and thoughts of thoughtful gentlemen, whose fates were just as much entwined. He and Dao both knew that conquest was the only way to drown the fires that engulfed the realm, for the light will attract the moths.
“Fret not, my will is greater than the challenges which lie at the precipice,” Dao replied with assurance before continuing in mild suave. “Opportunists are what we all are: it is necessary should one seek to correct what was wrong.” A dry smirk masked the contemplative nature of Lord Dao, whose thoughts had been stirred by the circumstances of the continent and the all-but-uttered disintegration of the Celestial Mandate. Dao retrieved his hand, and brushed his fingers across his chin before lowering it against the table: “The north is in turmoil, tigers vying over hunting-grounds and the incompetents masquerade as righteous masters; the realm is truly vast whilst the Emperor’s away,” Dao uttered in ridicule, his distaste for the continent’s circumstances noticeable through the hardiest of barriers. It would be of no doubt that the continent’s destiny would depend solely on conflicts revolving around Bakliang. But whilst decisive events were to unfold far beyond the walls of the Orchid Manor, it would allow the opportune time for Weilang to cultivate its own position of power. The most important step was to be the next one, and it was a clear choice.
“You, as much as I, know that our first task must be the taking of Hanjun; through Hanjun our reach is doubled, and our position tripled. We must conquer the crimson river, and unseat Wei Jiang. We must weather the animosity of such an undertaking, and build a center of power around lower Chenbei,” Dao said with certainty. Shu Jin could no doubt understand why: by leaving Hanjun for others’ ambitions, the position of Weilang would be threatened by the proximity of the river. As such, being able to control both sides, would not only increase economic leverage over the years, but improve the realm’s security against the ambitions of would-be conquerors. Dao’s eyes remained striking, and his words were at no end yet, “are we to fail in sowing our fields, we may never harvest useful bounty. There are many hands which pull at events even here, far beyond the confluence of events. If we anger Xiang in-so-doing, then so be it, but we can never fail at holding Hanjun; in the future it will become the gateway to the Riverlands.”
The strategist's hand caressed his chin softly, measuring the words of his lord that proffered - all according to his expectations. Truly, his master had learnt much from their recent exploits. A smile formed upon his countenance, nodding ever gracefully to the necessity of their undertaking as Dao conceived in his words.
Dao throttled his thumb against the table, and a discernible thump emanated from within the wood under the strength of his steely hand. In direct opposition, his words were commanding, but spoken softly; he and Shu Jin’s relationship was too great to demand of Dao any semblance of theatry. Dao, having proven his point to himself, loosened his stature, and returned to a relaxed sitting posture. Shu Jin was able to recognize the agitated worry of a lord without experience in his moment of openness. There was no other, immortal or not, who the Lord-in-Metal would reveal his weaknesses and doubts to. For that is what Dao was: worried. He had not inherited a realm at peace, in a world without conflict. He had taken, through the sword, what belonged to him by right. And none would care, no duke nor mariquise. There were no allies inherited through familial bonds and oaths of loyalty between territorial lordships.
As Shu Jin followed Dao’s gaze, they both looked upon the land under the Lu Dominion: the site of Dao Yanjin’s, the deceased father of Dao Chaolong’s, oathbound brother. But with the lordship of Dao’s Uncle, all ties were as good as buried, just as Lu Dang. To refashion old alliances would be necessary to consolidate the realms, and soothe the forests and the mountains from chaos. But would such actions be possible?
Dao willed possibility into existence, the impossible becoming plausible as he grasped his fist. “I care not if Seo Ji and Qi Mon were to knock upon the gates of this mansion and force their ambitions upon me, I will conquer the unconquerable, and through you, master the impossible. I will catch lightning, if it would allow me the chance to right the wrong, and depose the manipulant.” Risen from doubt, the future was clearer and actions to be taken more obvious. But he was greater than being fooled solely by his own will. The advice of his confidants, all of them, could very well reveal the egg of a phoenix or the roots of a millennium-ginseng.
The Blue Tortoise smiled softly, taking in a sense of pride that his master’s prudence had long surpassed his expectations. The unspoken understanding between them seems to gradually intertwine as if Shu was an extension of his lord’s will. Sparing their defined roles, Shu perceived Dao as a friend, as much as the latter’s father did Lu Dang. It is the worries in Dao’s eyes that reminded the Blue Tortoise that his path was just. For the silent concerns in his lord’s eyes were genuine factors that defined his humanity. Shu Jin’s right hand curled up into a fist, while his left encompassed it with elegance. The man then lowered his head slightly to complete the gesture. “I have served and will be of service to realize your aspirations, milord.” He saluted softly. Come morning, there were many tasks that demanded their attention before the year was truly over. The strategist knew it in his heart then that his master was destined for greater endeavors than a mere governor.
Shu leaned back with both his hands upon the bamboo mat, supporting his slight recline.
"Now, onto greater matters that demands your utmost attention. Uncle Mori's midnight stall should be open by now. What say you to a bowl of noodles and dumplings? My treat." The strategist offered his master.
Master and servant, friend and comrade, the Lord-in-Metal and the Blue Tortoise's tea session proved far more profound than a mere conversation. Under the moonlit night, their contract was renewed, as the young governor adhered to his undaunted resolve, while their brilliant advisor complemented their thoughts. On the final days of the turbulent year's revelations, their cohesive minds would pave the way for a new beginning that was to come - so spoke the fine blend of the tranquil tea.
The gentle breeze of Yanura's imminent warmth was in the form of a tranquil vessel that housed the patient efforts of a soft-spoken tortoise, whose gradual hands made sure to follow suit with the midnight ceremony that they were holding. Glowing optics beneath dark locks of flowing hair, matched only by their eloquent hands across the tea set that laid before them. Several candles situated themselves all around the room, unveiling the inhabitants' midnight gathering. Across from them was a white-haired individual, whose scarlet eyes were burning as brightly as they did that fateful day. The same man that exercised patience and prudence when they honored their pact by the Crimson River. A sorrowful man, whose waning hands were stirred into action by the one that sat across from him now. Out of the fires of their return to Weilang, a steely heart was forged. While the city sleeps soundly this night, the prodigal son must now face his heart’s febrile nature.
Despite the adequate and perhaps overbearing layers of apparel to keep them warm, as well as the warm cups of tea between the man and his master, the teamaster could not ignore the uninvited breeze that infiltrated their dwelling. Opaline trails of the swelling moon breached the gap in the ceiling, surrounding his master with its glowing veil. The Blue Tortoise was in the presence of the man that he owed his life to. A destiny that was only revealed to him upon his near departure from this realm - but his days have yet to be tallied. From nothing but drenched attires and distant words between weary strangers within a cramped sampan to a tidy lodge upon a frozen garden. Here they were, as master and servant, with facile complications of their intertwined path. The hole in the ceiling was reminiscent of the hole in the sampan’s covers that reminded the governor and their strategist of their humble journey. Despite the renovations that were offered by his lord’s subjects, the hole in the ceiling has yet to be addressed. So long as it remains unaddressed, the Blue Tortoise knew that their undeterred fealty had found a home, for the hole was a symbolic reminder that some noble works may yet be done.
The amber-eyed strategist finally unfurled his hands, lifting the vessel of tea with his long, elegant fingers. “Milord.” He offered, raising the bowl forward to level with his sight with great courtesy. The midnight tea meant more than an odd leisure, for this was the only time they finally found themselves in each other’s presence to look for their futures.
Fittingly, the Lord of Weilang was caught in the midst of prolonged journeys across thoughts and ephemeral landscapes; to take one step invites the presence of mountains, an undertaking can only be hard if it is endured. His penetrating gaze accompanying his mind across the upper-northern horizon, he continued his deep reflection. Having overcome a great task, he was already in the midst of another one, something which his companion no doubt knew fully. Whilst some things must be said, others are simply known. In their private leisure, the successor of Weilang had crossed his feet and tossed aside decorum, but all unto his own, his stature produced innate esteem. With his hand placed squarely upon the teacup, steam transferring its heat to the now Lord Dao, he invited his confidant and dear friend to speak through simple glance. The world was complex, and those who desired to retain power and create great things needed times, such as these, to contemplate. With their dominion nascent, greater challenges were an inevitability. On this matter, they no doubt thought much alike: what was to come, on the natural path for the two of them, was no secret.
Responding to the underlying tensions broiled by cosmic alignments held aloft by the circumstances of the continent, Shu Jin rose, and with him Dao’s gaze lowered to meet his movements. Snatching a candle from its post, he gradually glided past the bamboo curtain. A gentle hand undid the strings to unveil a vast parchment that encompassed the land. Dao took his first taste of the Nanbiao-tea, its taste warm yet frigid, lacking complexities, though elaborate in simplicity. The Blue Tortoise’s hand brushed over the imprinted illustrations softly, as the candle in their hand adjusted to their amber gaze. The candle hovered over the northern province of Bakliang, where the capital of Taiyang is shown, and Dao followed the light’s guidance. “In the far north, the Sanguine Tyrant rides on their flaming chariot, driven by their tamed wrath. While they may have shaken the heavens with their audacity, their path is one marked by perpetual ferocity and disharmony. Surrounded by enemies, their untenable position is bleak and their situation is endangered by the swaying hearts of the frontier marquises. But in the face of adversaries, their flames will burn ever brighter.” His coordinated sights and hand veered closer as Shu Jin panned the light towards the center-right side of the map.
“To the east of the Crimson River resides the remnants of Prince Majun’s loyalists. Many warlords and powerful nobles have rallied under the Tiger of Beiyan’s cause, raising war banners under the guise of aiding Majun’s cause. But the peas may overwhelm their stalks with time, should the ambitions of men remain unchecked. This is a speculative moment in Jianki’s history. The prince’s words were easily twisted by his hosts to the east. Qi Mon will surely use the prince’s name to fulfill his personal ambitions, making Seo Ji an enemy of Jianki. The coming years will make Jianki the proving ground for Seo Ji and Qi Mon. The fledgling and the cub must inevitably engage in battle, for the will of heaven will not tolerate coexistence between these ambitious behemoths. While their anticipatory clashes are distant, we must prepare ourselves to react accordingly.” Shu Jin gave his insights, with a dry smile almost forming on his countenance. It seemed as if the Blue Tortoise had expected such a crisis from long before. But even if he did, the will of the heavens will not reveal all the details until one has fulfilled their role. Looking back at his master briefly, the strategist got on his knees and shone the light over the familiar sight of Dao’s home.
“To the south, the combined ambitions of the River States will surely take them beyond the confines of the Fujin waterways. In time, our destiny will inevitably take us further south, so long as the Yuru continues to shine in the sky at night. Beware what arrives at our wharfs, for the Zhaos’ method of conquest is far from the swords and arms - their keen eyes and ears. But we are not alone, for opportune allies will present themselves in time.” Shu Jin's hands navigated the Fujin River, traversing the parchment with grace as his optics reminisced the conflicts of the distant future. He turned back towards his lord to address the fruits of their combined labors. The toils that have shaped Dao's resolve, guided by Shu Jin's profound hands, were now an attraction that beguiled their negligent neighbors' eyes. Where heroic feats were often sung, the young governor's path was one worthy of such recognition in the eyes of scheming politicians and cautious warlords alike. A new chapter to be written by the rightful ruler of Weilang, among the many tales of his future subjects. All that ends, must begin, so said the old principles of nature.
“Your uncle’s fleeting governance, while a bitter brew to digest, has served to remind the people of Weilang of the hardships ahead. While the blossom has yet to unveil its petals, it is wise to prepare the tea before it blooms. Your subjects now look to you for guidance. We must address the matter of the Wei rebels to the northwest and the Ganqing outlaws to the west, for we shall benefit greatly from our commitment.”
“Hanjun, home of the Qian family, has yet to see better days long before the young corporal Wei Jiang rebelled. For the last two years, the Qians resided in Cailang as a guest of the Xiang’s court in Miaolang and have made no effort to reclaim their home from the rebels. They say Wei Jiang is a warrior at heart, whose arms are only brought to bear against the Qians’ incompetent rule. A capable fighter, matched only by their composure, while Hanjun is a fertile and abundant land, uncultivated by shallow minds and feeble hands. A punitive expedition must be organized, lest the toils of your work be all for naught.” Reeling back to the task at hand, Shu Jin understood his lord's intentions with heart, as much as he was inclined to advise his Dao in any capacity. With the ever-changing state of Jianki's fractured heart, the ferryman that Shu first encountered upon the coursing Crimson River now had the eyes of the world upon him.
“While I may assist you in the matter of our armory stockpile and grains among the many things that can and will be attended to, the heart of Weilang’s might ultimately resides in your resolve.“ Shu Jin finally concludes the immediate situation of Weilang’s fate. Sashaying back to his seat, the Blue Tortoise cast aside the candle, relinquishing his grasp to be folded along with his posture.
“The Empire is undergoing a fever. A fever that invites opportunists and manipulators in these turbulent times. Few are eager to combat this sickness, save the few patriots and persons of honor. Weilang might be the cradle of your upbringing, milord, but the Lord-in-Metal cannot remain in the cradle forever. There is much to be done for many years to come. Blood will be spilled, and we will suffer along with the rest. Will your heart be as tranquil as your brush?” Shu’s eyes met Dao’s with a firm gaze. The aromatic Nanbiao blend rose into the air between them, perforating intentions and thoughts of thoughtful gentlemen, whose fates were just as much entwined. He and Dao both knew that conquest was the only way to drown the fires that engulfed the realm, for the light will attract the moths.
“Fret not, my will is greater than the challenges which lie at the precipice,” Dao replied with assurance before continuing in mild suave. “Opportunists are what we all are: it is necessary should one seek to correct what was wrong.” A dry smirk masked the contemplative nature of Lord Dao, whose thoughts had been stirred by the circumstances of the continent and the all-but-uttered disintegration of the Celestial Mandate. Dao retrieved his hand, and brushed his fingers across his chin before lowering it against the table: “The north is in turmoil, tigers vying over hunting-grounds and the incompetents masquerade as righteous masters; the realm is truly vast whilst the Emperor’s away,” Dao uttered in ridicule, his distaste for the continent’s circumstances noticeable through the hardiest of barriers. It would be of no doubt that the continent’s destiny would depend solely on conflicts revolving around Bakliang. But whilst decisive events were to unfold far beyond the walls of the Orchid Manor, it would allow the opportune time for Weilang to cultivate its own position of power. The most important step was to be the next one, and it was a clear choice.
“You, as much as I, know that our first task must be the taking of Hanjun; through Hanjun our reach is doubled, and our position tripled. We must conquer the crimson river, and unseat Wei Jiang. We must weather the animosity of such an undertaking, and build a center of power around lower Chenbei,” Dao said with certainty. Shu Jin could no doubt understand why: by leaving Hanjun for others’ ambitions, the position of Weilang would be threatened by the proximity of the river. As such, being able to control both sides, would not only increase economic leverage over the years, but improve the realm’s security against the ambitions of would-be conquerors. Dao’s eyes remained striking, and his words were at no end yet, “are we to fail in sowing our fields, we may never harvest useful bounty. There are many hands which pull at events even here, far beyond the confluence of events. If we anger Xiang in-so-doing, then so be it, but we can never fail at holding Hanjun; in the future it will become the gateway to the Riverlands.”
The strategist's hand caressed his chin softly, measuring the words of his lord that proffered - all according to his expectations. Truly, his master had learnt much from their recent exploits. A smile formed upon his countenance, nodding ever gracefully to the necessity of their undertaking as Dao conceived in his words.
Dao throttled his thumb against the table, and a discernible thump emanated from within the wood under the strength of his steely hand. In direct opposition, his words were commanding, but spoken softly; he and Shu Jin’s relationship was too great to demand of Dao any semblance of theatry. Dao, having proven his point to himself, loosened his stature, and returned to a relaxed sitting posture. Shu Jin was able to recognize the agitated worry of a lord without experience in his moment of openness. There was no other, immortal or not, who the Lord-in-Metal would reveal his weaknesses and doubts to. For that is what Dao was: worried. He had not inherited a realm at peace, in a world without conflict. He had taken, through the sword, what belonged to him by right. And none would care, no duke nor mariquise. There were no allies inherited through familial bonds and oaths of loyalty between territorial lordships.
As Shu Jin followed Dao’s gaze, they both looked upon the land under the Lu Dominion: the site of Dao Yanjin’s, the deceased father of Dao Chaolong’s, oathbound brother. But with the lordship of Dao’s Uncle, all ties were as good as buried, just as Lu Dang. To refashion old alliances would be necessary to consolidate the realms, and soothe the forests and the mountains from chaos. But would such actions be possible?
Dao willed possibility into existence, the impossible becoming plausible as he grasped his fist. “I care not if Seo Ji and Qi Mon were to knock upon the gates of this mansion and force their ambitions upon me, I will conquer the unconquerable, and through you, master the impossible. I will catch lightning, if it would allow me the chance to right the wrong, and depose the manipulant.” Risen from doubt, the future was clearer and actions to be taken more obvious. But he was greater than being fooled solely by his own will. The advice of his confidants, all of them, could very well reveal the egg of a phoenix or the roots of a millennium-ginseng.
The Blue Tortoise smiled softly, taking in a sense of pride that his master’s prudence had long surpassed his expectations. The unspoken understanding between them seems to gradually intertwine as if Shu was an extension of his lord’s will. Sparing their defined roles, Shu perceived Dao as a friend, as much as the latter’s father did Lu Dang. It is the worries in Dao’s eyes that reminded the Blue Tortoise that his path was just. For the silent concerns in his lord’s eyes were genuine factors that defined his humanity. Shu Jin’s right hand curled up into a fist, while his left encompassed it with elegance. The man then lowered his head slightly to complete the gesture. “I have served and will be of service to realize your aspirations, milord.” He saluted softly. Come morning, there were many tasks that demanded their attention before the year was truly over. The strategist knew it in his heart then that his master was destined for greater endeavors than a mere governor.
Shu leaned back with both his hands upon the bamboo mat, supporting his slight recline.
"Now, onto greater matters that demands your utmost attention. Uncle Mori's midnight stall should be open by now. What say you to a bowl of noodles and dumplings? My treat." The strategist offered his master.
Master and servant, friend and comrade, the Lord-in-Metal and the Blue Tortoise's tea session proved far more profound than a mere conversation. Under the moonlit night, their contract was renewed, as the young governor adhered to his undaunted resolve, while their brilliant advisor complemented their thoughts. On the final days of the turbulent year's revelations, their cohesive minds would pave the way for a new beginning that was to come - so spoke the fine blend of the tranquil tea.
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