Nihon: Twofold (3)
Title: Twofold
Characters/Pairings: KuroFai, others mentioned
Rating: M - warnings (and I do so hate giving warnings) for violence, possible (probable) OC death, bad language, and definite citrus content.
Summary: To the neighbouring nation of Chugoku Kurogane and Fai go, there to finalise and sign an important peace treaty between that empire and Nihon. It should’ve been a relatively simple enterprise, had the Emperor been willing to keep his word, but that no longer seems to be the case. Despite the talk of peace Chugoku looks set for war, and if that’s what the empire wants Fai and Kurogane will willingly give them it.
A/N: The chapter wherein I hate everything written as it was awkward and took too long to write after I forgot about it for ages and ages until nagged, where nothing much happens and it’s all still vaguely plot-relevant anyway. Hi. I call this chapter ‘Flower Power.’
*****
“Idiot boy.”
Unlike most of the rest of the party Zhuang had remained on his feet during the collision with the little slave boy, the prince less dumbfounded by the new, rather sudden, arrival and more infuriated, seeing the mess of the other slaves hastily trying to pick themselves up off the ground, his guest, Fai, still sitting perplexed in the dirt as well. Red petals were scattered around the confusion like the spots of anger rising in Zhuang’s vision; he took two quick half-steps forward towards the perpetrator with his fist instinctively curled and rising - but the boy flinched, and Fai, still closer to the little slave than anyone else, jerked instinctively, raising his own hand as if to catch the Crown Prince’s wrist.
Zhuang saw the motion and stopped, and an uncomfortable silence fell.
The child who was the cause of it stayed frozen, staring at the two freeborn adults, a rabbit unsure of whether it had truly tricked the fox into thinking it wasn’t there, or was just caught up in the next stage of the predator’s game.
Zhuang lowered his hand again. “Boy,” the slave hastily bowed his head, deferential to the royal, his whole body tense. “Watch where you’re going.”
“Child!” There was a reproving call from behind them and again the boy on the floor flinched - but it was a milder expression than before, less paralysing fear and more a familiar wince, a child hearing a known lecture to come in just one word. Watching him, Fai could hardly believe he himself had once been so - innocently - wide-eyed, something of the spark Fai used to light the candle in the shrine in his room at home, in Shirasagi, sweet-smelling flowers and bright stones for another world’s child (children) who wasn’t anymore.
The ache didn’t ever go away - but it was gentled by time and peace and patience, warm dreams of soft furs and powder-snow, lullabies Fai could barely remember. Kurogane.
“Child,” Fai drew away from his memories to face the hot Chugokian sunshine once more, turning his head to see Liu Bao standing further along the path. The Chief Mage was clearly displeased, coming forward after depositing the basket he had been holding into the grasp of the much smaller figure at his side - the other twin, who made a face at receiving yet another burden, already laden with smaller baskets full of produce from the gardens. He didn’t say a word though - his weary expression (so put-upon for a child) indulgent of something that seemingly happened to him a lot - though he flicked a worried glance to his brother, a curious glance to Fai, and then most of his attention back to his master and teacher, Liu Bao, who was close enough to see the mess of flowers all over the path and quite ready to scold. Priorities. “What have you done now?”
“Lăoshī,” Fai’s…’assaulter’ placatingly began, stubbornly looking away from the scowling Crown Prince beside him (impudence from a slave) and towards his master, quite, quite aware he was in trouble and trying to minimise the damage. (Fai knew the tactics well - they worked a great deal of the time when you could find someone either willing to (or too flummoxed to do anything but) listen, and for every other time there was Kurogane.)
Sadly for the boy, it apparently wasn’t his day. Liu Bao was having none of it.
“Pick those flowers up off the ground at once - what use do you think they are to anyone lying drying out in the dirt as they are? Now, boy.” The slave scrambled to do as he was bid, blushing a deep pink in embarrassment, shoving the flowers and petals back into his basket as quickly as he dared, trying not to damage the flora any further. Liu Bao turned his attentions to Zhuang - and Fai, who finally pushed himself up from the ground, distractedly brushing the dust off his legs. “My apologies for the boy; he has clearly disturbed you on your walk.”
“It was no trouble.” Fai spoke, all easy charm, before Zhuang could - it was forward of him, he knew, but Zhuang was still bristling with unchecked anger and Fai had no desire to see that unleashed upon the child beside him. It had been a small accident; they happened from time to time as part of the course of life, regardless of one’s status.
Fai crouched down again (much to the consternation of the adult slaves who had only just sorted out the parasol to place over the mage’s head once more, only to have Fai abruptly disappear on them), picking up a red petal that had landed on the ground near his foot and offering it out to the child who shared his brother’s soul with a friendly smile.
“You were gathering poppies?”
There was another awkward pause. No-one moved, the boy picking up his fallen flowers only looking blankly at Fai, his confused expression clearly wondering whether Fai was mad - why on earth was the foreign mage talking to him? (Fai suddenly dearly wanted to stick the child in a room beside Kurogane and let the two have a stare-off.)
The boy (Fai, other Fai) looked up at Liu Bao. When the Chief Mage nodded, short, the slave-child turned back to Fai, and finally replied. “…For a sleeping potion.” His fingers were soft when he finally reached out to take the petal offered to him, his hair curling childishly around his cheeks as he ducked his head again, putting the petal with the rest of the flowers in his basket. “For the badly hurt.”
“You’re making potions by yourself already?” Fai stayed crouching even as the boy before him got to his feet, relatively on-level with the child’s eyes. It was unusual for one so young to be dealing in potions-work without guidance, even if they were highly intelligent.
“Lăoshī supervises,” old master, teacher. The boy tucked some of his hair behind his ear, apparently nervous, echoed by his brother shifting from foot to foot only a little way along the path. “In case we do it wrong.”
In case -
“They’ve a long way to go before they’re anywhere near being able to do something like that for themselves,” Liu Bao broke in, and Fai glanced up at him, silently curious. If the rumours were to be believed - “They use the more common ingredients produced by the lesser mages as well - they’re too young for anything more potent. When they get better we’ll see if they can handle some of the ingredients from my private gardens.”
“They’re really pretty,” Fai looked back at the boy beside him to finally see the child returning the smile he’d been given earlier - sort of, anyway. It was something dreamy and faraway, off in the gardens everyone was speaking of. “Especially the roses -”
“Of course,” Zhuang cut across the boy’s words and silenced them, the slave closing his mouth and bowing his head deferentially - penitently - over his basket. “The Chief Mage’s Gardens. Liu Bao-fūzǐ, how would you feel like opening them up for the grand tour today? I’m sure Fluorite-jiéxià would be most fascinated to see your wonderful collection.” The prince looked to his guest, and Fai rose back up to his feet. “They’re the finest gardens in all the Empire.”
“If it is permissible…” Fai trailed off, and Liu Bao nodded. (Not that it would be terribly likely for the Chief Mage to turn down a direct request from the heir to the Imperial throne, but still.) “Then I’d be delighted; thank you.”
Liu Bao’s private gardens were even more sealed off from the rest of the world than the areas belonging to the other mages, locked up behind high hedges and a magically-sealed door. It took a good few minutes of magical-sounding mumbling from the Chief Mage (half of which Fai had the sneaking suspicion was made up for Zhuang’s benefit, and at least eighty percent of it completely unnecessary) for the lock to click open, during which time Zhuang’s smile took on an even more strained quality than it had done before, the slaves escorting the prince shifted about, the little twins at the back of the group fidgeted hopelessly with their baskets and Fai tactfully resisted the urge to politely request Liu Bao just hurry it up already. Magic was supposed to make things simpler - not let everyone bake in their boredom out under the hot afternoon sun.
Eventually, Liu Bao got the door open, and they all trooped inside the garden. Like the grounds outside it was organised chaos, a pretty suntrap ringed with walls and trees that cast lines of shadow on the grass. Magic spilled out from some of the flowers growing in their beds, rising up through strong stems as naturally as water into waxy leaves and lush, bright petals. They’d all been tended with a loving hand, watered and pruned and cultivated, and Fai openly admired the collection - until one of the slaves (finally) put the parasol back up over his head again, and the sunlight coming down on him was filtered through the green material covering the shade.
The action was rather useless - for all Fai’s fairness he didn’t burn easily anymore; that trait had faded in the rain-streaked Tokyo wastelands. Alongside his questionable humanity were his regenerative abilities - being a magician his (minor) physical injuries had always healed relatively quickly, but since he’d gained vampire blood he was so much harder to hurt in the first place. (It was good he’d lost the great majority of what Kurogane had called his ‘suicidal tendencies’, otherwise his own body would have been endlessly frustrating to his mind.)
Liu Bao showed them around his domain, clearly pleased at Fai’s attentiveness, although Zhuang looked like he was barely listening - he was neither magician nor horticulturist -, and the tour did little for the slaves, since they (with the exception of the twins, apparently) were forbidden to learn magic. (And, if Liu Bao was their guardian and tutor, the boys had probably already been given some form of the tour before. Still, they trailed along with the group side-by-side, little ducklings, and looked like they were listening, if only so as to avoid being yelled at later.) Fai paused, however, at a certain bed of flowers that Liu Bao appeared to have overlooked, crouching down to examine the fauna even while the other magician was still talking. A little surprised at Fai suddenly dropping to waist-height (the slave charged with holding Fai’s parasol despaired) Liu Bao halted mid-sentence, looking down at the blond man.
After a few seconds, Fai looked back up at him, his face carefully blank. “You grow poisons here?” He stroked the petal of the plant before him almost idly, waiting for a response. “This is aconite, isn’t it, and the bushes behind oleander and nyan?” All were poisonous plants - the latter in particular, as it stopped the heart with only a very small dosage.
“One must first know how to kill, before they can cure,” Liu Bao quoted the old adage, smiling blithely. “I grow poisons here to create antidotes for the royal household; many of the poisonous plants have medicinal properties. Aconite in particular is very good for dispelling negativity.”
“Is that much of an affliction here?”
Liu Bao only looked at him, somewhere between amused and arch, and they resumed the tour.
The roses F- the roses the Liu Bao’s student had spoken so dreamily of were in the very heart of the private gardens, the centre of the centre of a hidden away maze. Sheltered from the wind their bushes grew in vast numbers, all of one type, a sea of blue flowers that caused Fai to stop at first sight and stare despite himself, because he could not feel even a drop of magic in any of the plants.
“Are they-?” he asked, cut himself off wonderingly. This world - Kurogane’s world and his world now - did not naturally grow roses of this hue without magical intervention.
“They’re real,” Liu Bao assured him, obviously pleased with his reaction, “and grown entirely without magic.”
“They’re beautiful,” Fai duly commented, already idling over to the nearest bush to look more closely at the flowers. They had a rich, strong scent the same as any other high-prized rose, the petals numerous, and the stems and leaves of the bush were a lush and heavy green.
“They’re grown especially for my father, His Divine Majesty.” Zhuang, as ever, followed - and the slaves all trailed after him, useless parasols in hand. “Only four other gardens in the Empire grow roses of this colour, and none as finely as these.”
Most of the Empire’s populace probably didn’t even know such beautiful roses existed, secrets behind secrets behind high walls and locked doors -
Fai smiled and straightened - if only so Zhuang would step back some way. “Nihon has lovely cherry blossoms of many colours, but not roses in colours like this.”
“Cherry blossoms are an appropriate choice from the Court of Nihon,” the prince conceded magnanimously, almost patronisingly, “from the tales that reach our shores about your Empress.” Fai looked at him blankly. “She is very beautiful, is she not? Cherry blossoms represent that feminine beauty, at its best.”
Kendappa-ou - and her sister - would probably have something to say about that comment.
“The Amaterasu,” Fai said carefully, “is as wise as she is beautiful.”
And was still fully capable of beating Kurogane black and blue - and getting beaten likewise herself, before going on to furiously lambast whatever unlucky unfortunates that had raised her imperial wrath by severely screwing something up. There were many ways to be beautiful.
“I have no doubt,” Zhuang replied, before suggesting they move on again in their tour, before evening fell and the time for dinner arrived too soon.
Somewhere between unsettled and mildly offended on behalf of the country that had taken him in, Fai agreed, and the two of them moved on, taking their entourage with them.
Liu Bao - and his two student-slaves - stayed behind, amongst the roses.
A/N: Short chapter is short because I have issues with it.
- Lăoshī - old master, used for addressing a teacher
- Aconite, also known as aconitum, and wolfsbane and monkshood in some of its genus’, was used for both medicine and poison. The most common type - Aconitum napellus (the Common Monkshood) - has roots that, when touched to the lip, produces feelings of numbness/tingling. After ingesting a poisonous dosage of aconite the symptoms exhibited are sweating, dizziness, difficulty in breathing, nausea, vomiting and diarrhea, followed by a burning/numbing sensation in the mouth, face and abdomen. Serious poisonings can cause motor weakness and spreading numbness in the limbs, and the heart suffering hypotension and beating arrhythmically. Causes of death are usually related to the effects on the heart, or asystole. Aconite is used in tradition Chinese medicine as a treatment for Yang defiency, ‘coldness’, and general debilitation. It’s prepared with ginger to lower its toxicity.
- Oleander is highly toxic, especially the leaves and stems of the plant. They cause severe digestive upset, heart troubles, and contact dermatitis. Even breathing in the smoke caused by burning oleander can have a fatal reaction in the lungs.
- Nyan, also known as othalanga, pong-pong, buta-buta, bintaro, kisopo, or the suicide tree. It’s deadly poisonous, used for suicides and murders, and ingesting anything made from it causes a quick death, the poison stopping the heart.
- The number 5 (五, Pinyin: wŭ) is associated with the five element guardians (Water, Fire, Earth, Wind, and Metal) in Chinese philosophy, and in turn was historically associated with the Emperor of China. This’ll crop up again later. So. Remember. >>
Characters/Pairings: KuroFai, others mentioned
Rating: M - warnings (and I do so hate giving warnings) for violence, possible (probable) OC death, bad language, and definite citrus content.
Summary: To the neighbouring nation of Chugoku Kurogane and Fai go, there to finalise and sign an important peace treaty between that empire and Nihon. It should’ve been a relatively simple enterprise, had the Emperor been willing to keep his word, but that no longer seems to be the case. Despite the talk of peace Chugoku looks set for war, and if that’s what the empire wants Fai and Kurogane will willingly give them it.
A/N: The chapter wherein I hate everything written as it was awkward and took too long to write after I forgot about it for ages and ages until nagged, where nothing much happens and it’s all still vaguely plot-relevant anyway. Hi. I call this chapter ‘Flower Power.’
*****
“Idiot boy.”
Unlike most of the rest of the party Zhuang had remained on his feet during the collision with the little slave boy, the prince less dumbfounded by the new, rather sudden, arrival and more infuriated, seeing the mess of the other slaves hastily trying to pick themselves up off the ground, his guest, Fai, still sitting perplexed in the dirt as well. Red petals were scattered around the confusion like the spots of anger rising in Zhuang’s vision; he took two quick half-steps forward towards the perpetrator with his fist instinctively curled and rising - but the boy flinched, and Fai, still closer to the little slave than anyone else, jerked instinctively, raising his own hand as if to catch the Crown Prince’s wrist.
Zhuang saw the motion and stopped, and an uncomfortable silence fell.
The child who was the cause of it stayed frozen, staring at the two freeborn adults, a rabbit unsure of whether it had truly tricked the fox into thinking it wasn’t there, or was just caught up in the next stage of the predator’s game.
Zhuang lowered his hand again. “Boy,” the slave hastily bowed his head, deferential to the royal, his whole body tense. “Watch where you’re going.”
“Child!” There was a reproving call from behind them and again the boy on the floor flinched - but it was a milder expression than before, less paralysing fear and more a familiar wince, a child hearing a known lecture to come in just one word. Watching him, Fai could hardly believe he himself had once been so - innocently - wide-eyed, something of the spark Fai used to light the candle in the shrine in his room at home, in Shirasagi, sweet-smelling flowers and bright stones for another world’s child (children) who wasn’t anymore.
The ache didn’t ever go away - but it was gentled by time and peace and patience, warm dreams of soft furs and powder-snow, lullabies Fai could barely remember. Kurogane.
“Child,” Fai drew away from his memories to face the hot Chugokian sunshine once more, turning his head to see Liu Bao standing further along the path. The Chief Mage was clearly displeased, coming forward after depositing the basket he had been holding into the grasp of the much smaller figure at his side - the other twin, who made a face at receiving yet another burden, already laden with smaller baskets full of produce from the gardens. He didn’t say a word though - his weary expression (so put-upon for a child) indulgent of something that seemingly happened to him a lot - though he flicked a worried glance to his brother, a curious glance to Fai, and then most of his attention back to his master and teacher, Liu Bao, who was close enough to see the mess of flowers all over the path and quite ready to scold. Priorities. “What have you done now?”
“Lăoshī,” Fai’s…’assaulter’ placatingly began, stubbornly looking away from the scowling Crown Prince beside him (impudence from a slave) and towards his master, quite, quite aware he was in trouble and trying to minimise the damage. (Fai knew the tactics well - they worked a great deal of the time when you could find someone either willing to (or too flummoxed to do anything but) listen, and for every other time there was Kurogane.)
Sadly for the boy, it apparently wasn’t his day. Liu Bao was having none of it.
“Pick those flowers up off the ground at once - what use do you think they are to anyone lying drying out in the dirt as they are? Now, boy.” The slave scrambled to do as he was bid, blushing a deep pink in embarrassment, shoving the flowers and petals back into his basket as quickly as he dared, trying not to damage the flora any further. Liu Bao turned his attentions to Zhuang - and Fai, who finally pushed himself up from the ground, distractedly brushing the dust off his legs. “My apologies for the boy; he has clearly disturbed you on your walk.”
“It was no trouble.” Fai spoke, all easy charm, before Zhuang could - it was forward of him, he knew, but Zhuang was still bristling with unchecked anger and Fai had no desire to see that unleashed upon the child beside him. It had been a small accident; they happened from time to time as part of the course of life, regardless of one’s status.
Fai crouched down again (much to the consternation of the adult slaves who had only just sorted out the parasol to place over the mage’s head once more, only to have Fai abruptly disappear on them), picking up a red petal that had landed on the ground near his foot and offering it out to the child who shared his brother’s soul with a friendly smile.
“You were gathering poppies?”
There was another awkward pause. No-one moved, the boy picking up his fallen flowers only looking blankly at Fai, his confused expression clearly wondering whether Fai was mad - why on earth was the foreign mage talking to him? (Fai suddenly dearly wanted to stick the child in a room beside Kurogane and let the two have a stare-off.)
The boy (Fai, other Fai) looked up at Liu Bao. When the Chief Mage nodded, short, the slave-child turned back to Fai, and finally replied. “…For a sleeping potion.” His fingers were soft when he finally reached out to take the petal offered to him, his hair curling childishly around his cheeks as he ducked his head again, putting the petal with the rest of the flowers in his basket. “For the badly hurt.”
“You’re making potions by yourself already?” Fai stayed crouching even as the boy before him got to his feet, relatively on-level with the child’s eyes. It was unusual for one so young to be dealing in potions-work without guidance, even if they were highly intelligent.
“Lăoshī supervises,” old master, teacher. The boy tucked some of his hair behind his ear, apparently nervous, echoed by his brother shifting from foot to foot only a little way along the path. “In case we do it wrong.”
In case -
“They’ve a long way to go before they’re anywhere near being able to do something like that for themselves,” Liu Bao broke in, and Fai glanced up at him, silently curious. If the rumours were to be believed - “They use the more common ingredients produced by the lesser mages as well - they’re too young for anything more potent. When they get better we’ll see if they can handle some of the ingredients from my private gardens.”
“They’re really pretty,” Fai looked back at the boy beside him to finally see the child returning the smile he’d been given earlier - sort of, anyway. It was something dreamy and faraway, off in the gardens everyone was speaking of. “Especially the roses -”
“Of course,” Zhuang cut across the boy’s words and silenced them, the slave closing his mouth and bowing his head deferentially - penitently - over his basket. “The Chief Mage’s Gardens. Liu Bao-fūzǐ, how would you feel like opening them up for the grand tour today? I’m sure Fluorite-jiéxià would be most fascinated to see your wonderful collection.” The prince looked to his guest, and Fai rose back up to his feet. “They’re the finest gardens in all the Empire.”
“If it is permissible…” Fai trailed off, and Liu Bao nodded. (Not that it would be terribly likely for the Chief Mage to turn down a direct request from the heir to the Imperial throne, but still.) “Then I’d be delighted; thank you.”
Liu Bao’s private gardens were even more sealed off from the rest of the world than the areas belonging to the other mages, locked up behind high hedges and a magically-sealed door. It took a good few minutes of magical-sounding mumbling from the Chief Mage (half of which Fai had the sneaking suspicion was made up for Zhuang’s benefit, and at least eighty percent of it completely unnecessary) for the lock to click open, during which time Zhuang’s smile took on an even more strained quality than it had done before, the slaves escorting the prince shifted about, the little twins at the back of the group fidgeted hopelessly with their baskets and Fai tactfully resisted the urge to politely request Liu Bao just hurry it up already. Magic was supposed to make things simpler - not let everyone bake in their boredom out under the hot afternoon sun.
Eventually, Liu Bao got the door open, and they all trooped inside the garden. Like the grounds outside it was organised chaos, a pretty suntrap ringed with walls and trees that cast lines of shadow on the grass. Magic spilled out from some of the flowers growing in their beds, rising up through strong stems as naturally as water into waxy leaves and lush, bright petals. They’d all been tended with a loving hand, watered and pruned and cultivated, and Fai openly admired the collection - until one of the slaves (finally) put the parasol back up over his head again, and the sunlight coming down on him was filtered through the green material covering the shade.
The action was rather useless - for all Fai’s fairness he didn’t burn easily anymore; that trait had faded in the rain-streaked Tokyo wastelands. Alongside his questionable humanity were his regenerative abilities - being a magician his (minor) physical injuries had always healed relatively quickly, but since he’d gained vampire blood he was so much harder to hurt in the first place. (It was good he’d lost the great majority of what Kurogane had called his ‘suicidal tendencies’, otherwise his own body would have been endlessly frustrating to his mind.)
Liu Bao showed them around his domain, clearly pleased at Fai’s attentiveness, although Zhuang looked like he was barely listening - he was neither magician nor horticulturist -, and the tour did little for the slaves, since they (with the exception of the twins, apparently) were forbidden to learn magic. (And, if Liu Bao was their guardian and tutor, the boys had probably already been given some form of the tour before. Still, they trailed along with the group side-by-side, little ducklings, and looked like they were listening, if only so as to avoid being yelled at later.) Fai paused, however, at a certain bed of flowers that Liu Bao appeared to have overlooked, crouching down to examine the fauna even while the other magician was still talking. A little surprised at Fai suddenly dropping to waist-height (the slave charged with holding Fai’s parasol despaired) Liu Bao halted mid-sentence, looking down at the blond man.
After a few seconds, Fai looked back up at him, his face carefully blank. “You grow poisons here?” He stroked the petal of the plant before him almost idly, waiting for a response. “This is aconite, isn’t it, and the bushes behind oleander and nyan?” All were poisonous plants - the latter in particular, as it stopped the heart with only a very small dosage.
“One must first know how to kill, before they can cure,” Liu Bao quoted the old adage, smiling blithely. “I grow poisons here to create antidotes for the royal household; many of the poisonous plants have medicinal properties. Aconite in particular is very good for dispelling negativity.”
“Is that much of an affliction here?”
Liu Bao only looked at him, somewhere between amused and arch, and they resumed the tour.
The roses F- the roses the Liu Bao’s student had spoken so dreamily of were in the very heart of the private gardens, the centre of the centre of a hidden away maze. Sheltered from the wind their bushes grew in vast numbers, all of one type, a sea of blue flowers that caused Fai to stop at first sight and stare despite himself, because he could not feel even a drop of magic in any of the plants.
“Are they-?” he asked, cut himself off wonderingly. This world - Kurogane’s world and his world now - did not naturally grow roses of this hue without magical intervention.
“They’re real,” Liu Bao assured him, obviously pleased with his reaction, “and grown entirely without magic.”
“They’re beautiful,” Fai duly commented, already idling over to the nearest bush to look more closely at the flowers. They had a rich, strong scent the same as any other high-prized rose, the petals numerous, and the stems and leaves of the bush were a lush and heavy green.
“They’re grown especially for my father, His Divine Majesty.” Zhuang, as ever, followed - and the slaves all trailed after him, useless parasols in hand. “Only four other gardens in the Empire grow roses of this colour, and none as finely as these.”
Most of the Empire’s populace probably didn’t even know such beautiful roses existed, secrets behind secrets behind high walls and locked doors -
Fai smiled and straightened - if only so Zhuang would step back some way. “Nihon has lovely cherry blossoms of many colours, but not roses in colours like this.”
“Cherry blossoms are an appropriate choice from the Court of Nihon,” the prince conceded magnanimously, almost patronisingly, “from the tales that reach our shores about your Empress.” Fai looked at him blankly. “She is very beautiful, is she not? Cherry blossoms represent that feminine beauty, at its best.”
Kendappa-ou - and her sister - would probably have something to say about that comment.
“The Amaterasu,” Fai said carefully, “is as wise as she is beautiful.”
And was still fully capable of beating Kurogane black and blue - and getting beaten likewise herself, before going on to furiously lambast whatever unlucky unfortunates that had raised her imperial wrath by severely screwing something up. There were many ways to be beautiful.
“I have no doubt,” Zhuang replied, before suggesting they move on again in their tour, before evening fell and the time for dinner arrived too soon.
Somewhere between unsettled and mildly offended on behalf of the country that had taken him in, Fai agreed, and the two of them moved on, taking their entourage with them.
Liu Bao - and his two student-slaves - stayed behind, amongst the roses.
A/N: Short chapter is short because I have issues with it.
- Lăoshī - old master, used for addressing a teacher
- Aconite, also known as aconitum, and wolfsbane and monkshood in some of its genus’, was used for both medicine and poison. The most common type - Aconitum napellus (the Common Monkshood) - has roots that, when touched to the lip, produces feelings of numbness/tingling. After ingesting a poisonous dosage of aconite the symptoms exhibited are sweating, dizziness, difficulty in breathing, nausea, vomiting and diarrhea, followed by a burning/numbing sensation in the mouth, face and abdomen. Serious poisonings can cause motor weakness and spreading numbness in the limbs, and the heart suffering hypotension and beating arrhythmically. Causes of death are usually related to the effects on the heart, or asystole. Aconite is used in tradition Chinese medicine as a treatment for Yang defiency, ‘coldness’, and general debilitation. It’s prepared with ginger to lower its toxicity.
- Oleander is highly toxic, especially the leaves and stems of the plant. They cause severe digestive upset, heart troubles, and contact dermatitis. Even breathing in the smoke caused by burning oleander can have a fatal reaction in the lungs.
- Nyan, also known as othalanga, pong-pong, buta-buta, bintaro, kisopo, or the suicide tree. It’s deadly poisonous, used for suicides and murders, and ingesting anything made from it causes a quick death, the poison stopping the heart.
- The number 5 (五, Pinyin: wŭ) is associated with the five element guardians (Water, Fire, Earth, Wind, and Metal) in Chinese philosophy, and in turn was historically associated with the Emperor of China. This’ll crop up again later. So. Remember. >>