Chapter 569

Chapter 569

You know how I know face is bullshit?

Because rich people arent allowed to haggle. How is this not bullshit?

Okay, allowed might be too strong of a word, but buying things without asking the price is apparently some big dick energy move, showing off how much money you have and how little you care about spending it. Thats some grade-A blasphemous bullshit if you ask me, because it is a verifiable fact that prices fluctuate based on the perceived wealth of the shopper. Now I dont mind merchants trying to scam me by raising prices every time I walk through the door, but its infuriating to know I cant haggle or walk away from a deal lest I lose face. As soon as I exhibit interest, Im locked into buying whatever it is, because to do otherwise would imply Im either a copper-pinching tight-wad or Im borderline destitute as far as the rumour mills are concerned.

Which makes going to market a complete nightmare. Yea I have money, but I still dont wanna buy things at full price, much less an inflated price meant to gouge me for all Im worth. Who pays full price for anything? Face is the worst.

There are exceptions to the rule of course. When merchants sit down to discuss business, its bargaining, not haggling, and most wealthy people have servants to do their haggling for them. Whats more, many higher end stores, like the instrument shop Im currently standing in while waiting for Luo-Luo to pick a replacement pipa, tend to have their rates and prices openly displayed, so as to show sincerity and assure their wealthy patrons that theyre not getting screwed. There are more workarounds Ive yet to encounter, but its annoying going through all the familiar motions only to run afoul of unfamiliar customs. Thats the part that trips me up the most while trying to blend in, the ordinary turned foreign. Bizarre and exotic customs are generally easy to remember, because theyre new and different like all-white mourning clothes instead of black, but when something seems familiar, my brain just defaults to normal, like feigning interest in products so shopkeepers dont kick me out for loitering.

Long story short, during this lengthy, two-hour trip to the market, Ive spent a lot of money on things I dont want, like complicated hair-pins, a big-ass shoulder bag, some ugly animal carvings, and the most uncomfortable looking belt I have ever laid eyes on. The expense wont break the bank, and I can always gift this junk away, but I hate frivolous purchases with a vehement passion, and Mom keeps lecturing me on my poor spending habits through Sending, while also constantly asking if I need to borrow money. Im starting to think the problem is on my end though, because every time I so much as look at something, the shop attendants rush over to extol its virtues and praise me for making such a fine purchase. On the other hand, Zian can pick something up, inspect it, and put it back down without being mobbed by greedy sales people, and its like fucking magic. I have no idea what Im doing wrong, but Im guessing it has to do with his cold air of casual disdain, or that slight, contemptuous sneer he wears all the time.

Still, hes better dressed than I am, so why dont the merchants bother him? Im wearing standard Sentinel leathers over a plain shirt and pants, while he has fancy teal embroidery all over his fluttery white robes, not to mention an expensive decorative hair-clip that I will never see as anything besides the tiniest of shiny hats. The look suits him, but Ill be damned if I ever wear robes like those or grow my hair long in Imperial fashion, no matter how many times Luo-Luo insinuates how nice it would look. My hair is already longer than I like, meaning I can see my bangs whenever I look up, but crew cuts are for soldiers who need to worry about lice, and I need to elevate my image to something beyond just a mere warrior.

Whatever. I dont care what anyone else thinks. Long hair is girly and will always be girly.

Things would be so much easier without my past lifes memories, and I wouldnt be giving up much either. My preconceived notions are more likely to get in the way rather than offer any tangible benefits, though they are good for a laugh every now and then, even if Im not entirely sure what Im laughing at. Turning my attention to Zian and Dain, I marvel at how easily they fall into their roles. Standing far enough apart so as not to seem scandalous, yet close enough to hint at a possible pairing, the two noble warriors make casual small-talk with effortless ease, while I stand a little off to the side like a silent third-wheel. They make noble life look so easy, and watching them handle the earlier public dispute was like watching a crash course on proper Noble decorum. It was a delight seeing Zian arrogantly dismiss his younger cousins and bait them into making a direct insult, which gave Dain all the reason she needed to step in and handle things for him. Then once things looked like they were about to get out of hand, the so-called traitor to Clan and Society stepped forward to defend his idiot cousins, giving off the perfect impression of a dignified member of the older generation responsibly looking out for his juniors.

Such flawless cooperation and lively back and forth, with Dain mentioning her little brothers defeat to remind everyone that Zian was on par with the former co-leader of the Hwarang, and her blunt question regarding Zians motives setting him up for that perfect, nonchalant non-answer, it was just... sublime. Now in the eyes of the people, Zian appears humble and loyal, not only because he stood up for two idiot cousins who slandered him, but also because he refused to air his Clans dirty laundry out in public, unlike the aforementioned idiots. The story will be told and retold a thousand times before we sit down for lunch, and ten-thousand times over before it comes time for dinner, with each listener asking the same questions again and again.

This Situ Jia Zian is a dragon among men, so why was he stripped of his position as Young Patriarch?

Seriously, how does he make it look so easy? The more I learn about manners and politics, the more lost I get, but everything just comes so naturally to Zian. Im just glad I went against my instincts and kept my mouth shut, else things mightve escalated into a duel to the death. I have no idea why that might be the case, but it happens more often than not when Im involved, so I can only assume the problem lies with me.

Imperial Consort, Dain drawls, in that shy and almost seductive manner all women know too well. If you keep staring at Dain like that, then others might accuse you of ungentlemanly thoughts.

Im not staring. Dont sound so defensive. Smile a bit too. Im monitoring the situation. My friend here has a reputation after all, and Im just making sure nothing untoward takes place on my watch. Sorry Zian. Just joking. He gets it, hes smiling too, as much as he normally does. Besides, its not as if you dont have a reputation of your own, Lady Dain. Mila and Yan told me all about your tea-time discussions. Which I am incredibly grateful for, because they encouraged Milas methodical interest in bondage and emboldened Yans sexual curiosity. Fun times.

Our brief bout of banter buys me several more minutes of silence as Zian and Dain pick up where they left off, and this time I make sure not to stare so much. Dont get me wrong, Dain is a lovely woman with an air of girlish maturity about her that gives off a stern-but-sexy teacher vibe, but thats not why I was staring. It sounds stupid, but until she showed up this morning with her Colonel General father in tow, it never crossed my mind that Ryo Dain might be working for the Legate. I mean, I shouldve expected as much, because like Yong-Jin, the Legates prized pawn, Dain also placed first in her age group during the Imperial Grand Conference. Whats more, she comes from a powerful family with two Peak Expert parents and two promising younger siblings, so why wouldnt the Legate offer her the same deal he offered me?

Shit, if anything, she probably got a better offer...

With this in mind, it makes todays events feel... manufactured in some way, as if the Legate had somehow deftly manipulated everything to fall perfectly into place. Not just my public appearance and predictably reckless spending, but Im also reasonably certain he had something to do with Chiang and Shirong showing up to slander Zian in public. Why else would they pop up out of nowhere to make a big stink when the rest of the Situ Clan has gone quiet? And why else would Dain be perfectly positioned to appear unnoticed just as Chiang overstepped himself? Im guessing the Situ idiots were goaded into coming out, which wouldnt have been too hard considering how much they hate me. Not only did I humiliate them both during the Societys Contests, but Im also responsible for the deaths of their fathers. Ive looked into it, and it doesnt make sense, because while Shirongs dad was a low-ranking Warrior of no renown who was killed early on in our chaotic escape, Chiangs father, Chi Lok, was a Guardian of the Clan, meaning he was a Peak Expert at the minimum.

Now, this was before I Formed a Natal Palace and had perfect memory, but Im pretty sure Id remember killing a Peak Expert. This means theres something afoot with Chi Loks death, because theres no way our little group couldve quietly killed a Peak Expert without noticing, not unless we got super lucky with a bow-shot, and even thats a stretch. Massed arrows can bring down even the strongest of Martial Warriors, but between Domain, Healing, and enhanced reflexes and coordination, I doubt any Peak Expert worth their salt would fall to a handful of arrows directed their way. Personally, my best guess is that Guardian Chi Lok died to some internal squabble, and the Bekhai took the blame, so if I can figure out who killed him, then I can clear our name and maybe even drive another wedge between Rang Min and his number two, Chi Loks revenge-hungry father Chi Gan.

So far, Ive got nothing, but a man can hope...

Almost an eternity later, Luo-Luo finally makes her choice and I head over to pay far too much for an instrument that I will undoubtedly hate listening to. Upon hearing the price however, I stop and frown at the shop owner, who came out to scam me personally as a sign of respect. Eighty five gold? Thats it? Id seen the fancy wooden placards sitting in front of the pipas, and this is much lower than expected. Turning to Luo-Luo, I take a look at the plain, wooden, pear-shaped instrument she holds lovingly in her arms and ask, You sure thats the one you want? Theres nothing... More expensive that the shop owner can brag about, and thereby indirectly earn me more face? Better?

Honestly, I feel really bad about her almost getting kidnapped when she went out on a stroll with Song, so I would love to just... buy her forgiveness, if at all possible. Clutching the pipa close like a favoured pet, Luo-Luos actions do interesting things to the shape of her chest, but I resist the urge to stare and settle for a brief glance instead. Absolutely, Lord Husband, she says, with a pleading, wide-eyed stare. This is the instrument for Luo-Luo, and no others will do.

Its impossible for me to emulate Rocs movements perfectly, because Im a person and hes a bird. Whats more, hes not using his Movements to fight, to him its just... natural. He doesnt calculate angles, distance, and wind speed whilst in flight, he simply thinks I want to fly there, and he does it, the same way a baseball player sees a ball in flight and can approximate where itll eventually land. Its complex mathematics done without any of the math, knowing without knowing, understanding without comprehending, and somehow, this feels...

Significant.

Problem? Moving to my side, Zian covertly scans our surroundings as he mistakenly believes Ive spotted something important. I tried to keep my anti-Concealment eyesight quiet, but there can only be so many fortunate coincidences before people start seeing a pattern, and Zian has always been quick on the uptake.

No, nothing like that. Shrugging as I stroke Rocs head, I hold him close and head inside the opera house so as not to leave the thieving bird unsupervised outside. Its just... Its silly, but I was just thinking about the intricacies of flight. Roc here makes it look so easy, but its a complicated mechanical problem which has eluded human-kind for millennia, and I suspect will plague us for centuries ahead.

Controlled flight at least. I could probably make a working hang-glider or something, but I always felt like that was falling with style, rather than actually flying.

After reiterating my whole knowing without knowing bit, Zian smiles and Sends, Such are the mysteries of the world. Why he emphasized the last bit, I cant say, but it feels... right, like it makes sense somehow, without knowing why. Good to see you still making progress along the Martial Path, my friend. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on the opera later. Ive heard rumours of the lead performers phenomenal skills, so perhaps youll see more of what you sensed in Roc.

Refusing to explain what he means, we head up several flights of stairs and down a lush, carpeted hallway before arriving at our private balcony room. Inside, Dain and Jing Fei await us, alongside Fung, Seoyoon, BoShui, Ji Yeon, and Vichear who arrived on their own. Rather than individual chairs, the roomy balcony has four love-seat sofas instead, and while Fung and Seoyoon seem quite comfortable together, BoShui and Ji Yeon are also getting along quite well. Naturally, I make a point to tease them both, and although they both go red in the face, their shared glances tell me theyre both pretty pleased with how the seating arrangements worked out.

Not as pleased as Zian though, who settles in beside Dain and Jing Fei, while Vichear shamelessly sits cross-legged at the edge of the balcony with his chin resting atop the banister in child-like anticipation.

Thankfully, theres plenty of room left for Naaran and the Aspirant to Conceal themselves behind me, while Binesi and Kuang Biao visibly post themselves outside the doors. Smiling at Luo-Luo as I sink in beside her, we sit shoulder to shoulder despite there being more than enough room to spread out. Its a small thing, but there was a time when she wouldve been so ready to pounce that I wouldve sat as far away as possible, not only to keep from succumbing to temptation, but also because she seemed so uncomfortably eager to have me there beside her. It sounds really dumb, but its weird being wanted, and Im not used to such intense desire. I saw it as fake and manipulative, but now I understand that she just wanted to be accepted, and she thought sex was the best way to achieve this. Shes not wrong, but not only do I have hangups about forced intimacy, Im also pretty sure that if I sleep with Luo-Luo before marrying Mila, then shell break both my legs.

And not in the fun way either...

With Roc in my lap and Luo-Luo at my side, I finally take a few moments to study the theatre itself. Its not particularly large, which explains why Zian had so much trouble getting tickets, but its beautifully built, with many similar balconies spread out across the walls on all four levels above ground. Our balcony is on the highest level, and faces the stage directly, so I assume that makes them the best seats in the house, but Id expect no less from the Legate. Opulent silk curtains hang from every beam and banister, and even the stage curtains have that gossamer sheen, meaning these tickets must have been very expensive even without accounting for the increased density of Imperial big-wigs in town. Two candles currently light our balcony, and a multitude of torches do the same on the ground floor, but even as I watch, ushers make their way down the aisles to shutter the lights one by one. Binesi Sends instructions telling me to put out the lights myself, but before I can get up, someone blows out the left most candle, and a few seconds later, the right one as well. Thanks, I call, knowing it had to be the nameless Aspirant, earning me another warning from Naaran to keep quiet about Concealed guards and a nudge from Luo-Luo indicating I should keep silent.

As the last light shutters close, the curtains open to reveal the stage, lit up by intensely bright paper lanterns holding something besides candles, made evident by the lack of tell-tale flickers of flame. Some painted idiot strides out onto stage, with his face powdered ghostly white save for his exaggerated black brows and fat red lips, and I cannot for the life of me take this seriously anymore. A silver circlet sits atop his snowy brow, with three, ridiculously long peacock-type feathers sticking out from the back which quiver comically as he bows before the audience, and its all I can do not to snicker. Flourishing his swords in a flashy but impractical manner, he strikes a pose and belts out the start to a horrendously high-pitched tune, which makes Rocs squawking sound almost melodic. Were it not for his serious painted expression, Id almost think his silly, exaggerated prancing was the start of a circus act, with his long, flappy sleeves snapping as he struts and sashays all about the stage with his swords turning and twirling this way and that.

A sword dance, using the Forms as their base, but its so... impractical. Those wide, exaggerated movements waste so much time, and he telegraphs his movements way too much. It takes skill to do what he does, sure, as well as timing and practice, but its hardly the enlightening experience Zian suggested it might be unless I wanted to learn how to dance. The only thing I can learn from this painted idiot is how to get myself killed, so I grit my teeth and coddle Roc close to soothe his nerves, while wondering if its too late to bring him back outside. Putting the music out of mind, I turn my attention to the lights instead. I wonder what theyre made from? Probably not electric, but theyre so bright and steady I have no idea what else it could be, and I cant help but disturb Luo-Luo to ask. Frowning, she shakes her head and shrugs to indicate she doesnt know, before turning her full attention back to the singing, dancing clown on stage, who now has a bunch of partners hes pretending to fight.

I cant believe the show got even worse. As if the Defiled would come at you in ones and twos when theyve obviously got you surrounded. This is a giant waste of time.

Well, at least I mightve discovered an alternative light source exists. Reading by candlelight strains my eyes, and there are probably a lot of other uses for it as well, so I should remember to ask someone when all this is over. Bored by the opera, I tune out the singing and sink back into my couch, while Roc relaxes against my chest and tucks his head under a wing for a snooze. Not the worst idea, so I stifle a yawn and close my eyes, just for a bit. Ive been so stressed lately, I can barely sleep at night, and the lack of... release isnt helping things. Am I addicted to sex and masturbation? Maybe, but I swear its not my fault. Martial Warriors probably produce a lot more hormones than your average person, which might explain what so many of us are angry, over-aggressive idiots. Whatever the reason, Im exhausted beyond belief. Not the best condition to approach a possible death-trap, so I might as well sneak in a little shut eye before heading out to the tea-house of doom.

The world goes silent for all of second before a pointed elbow jostles me awake, and I bolt upright in my seat. Sorry, I whisper. Was I snoring?

Annoyed by the sudden movements, Roc lets loose with an ear-piercing mocking laugh to exclaim his displeasure, and my heart skips a beat from panic. Scrambling to keep him quiet, I stuff some jerky into his beak and soothe my sweet bird to silence before sheepishly peering over the balcony, only to find every shadowy head turned in my direction while Fung, BoShui, and Zian quietly and unsuccessfully stifle their laughter.

Worst of all? The painted idiot of a lead singer/dancer is also glaring at me from stage, and from the looks of things, he seems pretty damn pissed. Then again, its hard to tell if hes actually angry or its just the comically exaggerated eyebrows and face-paint...

Baring a set of teeth whiter than his alabaster makeup, the dancer lets loose with a Chi-infused screech of, You dare?!

...Great. Just great. I guess todays just one of those days.

Chapter Meme