Chương 23: Chapter 22

"I heard enough." Pleasingly, the discussion ceased abruptly. The two Sect Leaders and her grandson stepped back, bowing.

"All the options you brought before me are… tempting. I thank you for each." Wu Zetian spoke with the mild, polite yet steady tone that had seen whole societies brought down and sold for scraps.

"Yet again, we are forced to look at the reality of things. The long siege has depleted the Sect's stores and our production is woefully insufficient to maintain our current infrastructure, let alone to improve it. Of course, there's no need for me to remind you all that our primary objective must be, is and remains to reach a level of strength high enough that the hordes of the eastern beastkin wouldn't dare to assault the Domain.

While such a state can be reached only by sweeping, long-term policies, that cannot be realized if we allow our manpower to dwindle. To that effect, it's my intention not to sacrifice our most immediate needs for a nebulous future." She let her gaze linger on each of the people present.

"Order must endure. The sect cannot be allowed to wilt by lack of resources. For that, I'd prefer short-term windfalls that give us the reprieve we need to restart our own production." She paused, allowing her words to sink in.

"Elder Chen." The matriarch straightened up like a recruit on parade.

"Yes, sir."

"How fares the Hand of Night's transportation capabilities?" Something that may have been vindication flashed in the woman's gaze. Still, when she spoke, her voice was steady.

"The Sect's inner fleet has been spared most of the fighting, Ancestor," she said, raising her chin.

"In the siege's confines, the flying ships would have been a liability. As such, five flying ships are docked in the Yan Luo's deeper layers, ready for deployment." Wu Zetian hummed. The memories of her previous incarnation told her that five wasn't much. In its heyday, the Sect had a whole fleet of up to twenty great ships, with a multitude of smaller ones. Yet again, to have saved even a fourth of the total after so much fighting was impressive.

"How much can they carry?" Chen Liwei snapped answers like she had a ledger in her hands.

"The Zinwu Star has a carrying capacity of 58. 000 dan. Regretfully, it's the only surviving large-sized cargo ship. The Fearless Thunderbolt, Night Descending, Spear of Yan Luo and Xin Tu Rock are combat vessels and can load a fifth of that number." Which put them at a carrying capacity of 70. 000 tons and 14. 000 tons, respectively. A mind-numbing number that put the Zinwu Star in the same ballpark as the cargo ships of her old world. Except that these flew.

"Good enough," Wu Zetian acknowledged.

"I don't expect you'll be able to fill up your cargo, but even half would give us a good headstart."

"Founder, a word?" Wu Zetian turned to Xing Xing. To his credit, the man didn't draw back. She smiled.

"Of course. Go on."

"The siege was long and hard-fought," the Sect Elder began, bowing as though he apologized for arguing.

"I fear the barbarians may have consumed their stores to the point that travel may not be worthwhile." Not a stupid protest by any stretch. Wu Zetian accepted it with a pleasant nod.

"Indeed. Yet again, I'll bet that they did keep some of their most precious stores and treasures hidden. For all their commitment, not even they could have been foolish enough not to account for their future, and no demonic cultivator would trust another of his kind fully. Indeed, it's a risk, but one we can call calculated. I trust we'll find more than enough for our means." The Sect Elder didn't protest further, bowing grandly.

"The Hand shall move at once, Ancestor." The Chen matriarch's stiff bow radiated with a cold satisfaction.

"The time for the ships to be charged and the soldiers to be assembled, and we shall be on our way to the Borderlands." Wu Zetian hummed thoughtfully, cheek leaning on her fingers.

"Be fast, General. But not fast enough to discard caution. I imagine the barbarians have left plenty of kill switches and defenses in their strongholds. You'll take the utmost care to avoid them." Dark eyes shifted to another councilor.

"Elder Xian shall support you. Elder, the Scavenger Moon is to deploy its full force in this operation." The other members of the council had been listening attentively. When he was called, Xian was quick to bow in acknowledgment.

"Your will be done, Founder," he said, his voice deep and gravelly. A mix of greed and consideration turned his eyes cold.

"Everything that's not nailed down or dripping with corruption, we shall rip it out and lay it at your feet." Cute. Wu Zetian already liked him.

"Contact the captive Sects," she said casually.

"Have them provide you with guides. I wish for their strongholds to be included in the raids as well. Make use of them, General." Wisened by her previous discussion with Wu Nenqin, she braced herself for a protest. Sure enough, the Chen matriarch tensed, outrage cracking her disciplined mien. Wu Zetian didn't allow it to fester.

"The Sect is investing its greater strength in this", she said, pleasantly, almost sweetly.

"I am trusting you with much. You shall do your utmost, use all the tools to your disposal and bring me results." Her eyes, impossibly crimson and deep, bore into the General's deep red ones. Chen Liwei nodded stiffly, whatever protest she had hunted down and slaughtered by the discipline that was her salt and bread. Yet again, why let a chance go to waste?

"This is my policy," Wu Zetian said, letting her voice carry.

"To reward those who do their tasks well, and to punish and forsake those who fail, lie, hide, or think they can do so in my Night." She let the moment and the tension stretch, then dissipated it with a clap and a smile.

"Very good. It seems we have a first plan to follow. I am pleased." Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Smiles, awkward or not, satisfied and hopeful, made the rounds. Wu Zetian could see that for all their power and authority, the Elders were glad to have something to look forward that was different from an endless siege. Even if they had to put up with an old dragon. Why, some of them could even like that.

"Grandson." Wu Nenqin stepped forward. He tried his best, she could see it. Watching him, you wouldn't guess he was tense or at unease. If you weren't an immortal, that is. Or, well, if you didn't have a skilled eye. Her grandson tried too hard, to the point that his poise had a certain awkward stiffness to it. Still cute.

"The messengers have been dispatched, have they not?" She didn't need to ask. She had felt the groups of cultivators leaving the Domain as flies leaving her porch. But making a show of involving your favorites was always worth it.

"Yes, Founder," the young master said dutifully.

"I set our fastest runners to the task. Latest estimates are that we'll receive the first reports by the next quarter moon." One week. Which meant the Sect's messengers would hit the closest settlements worth reporting on in that time, or they would cover enough villages to warrant the same. Quite an impressive speed, all things considered. Part of her wished she could do it herself; she could have traversed the same distance in a few hours, but her movements couldn't be improvised, not anymore.

"Start getting together prospecting groups from the Blackflame Foundry. Wherever the land looks safe, send them. I wish for the auditing process to start as soon as possible."

"By your will. Should I give priority instructions?" Wu Zetian thought about it.

"Food," she said eventually, even while the greedy part of her mourned a little.

"And manpower. For now. More than anything, the Sect needs new, promising recruits and the means to feed them. The prospectors must record each method of food production and provide instructions on how to improve it. Since we can't help materially, words and guidance will have to suffice." She smiled at the irony, wondering if the clueless peasants would welcome the "immortal ones" as teachers and saviors, or just dupes come to tell them stuff they already knew.

"It shall be done. And, Ancestor, I took the liberty of tasking Haoran with visiting the largest settlements of the Province. He shall act as the Sect's mouth, spreading news of your return." Bold. Very bold. Wu Zetian watched him with amusement, letting the silence stretch until beads of sweat started appearing on his forehead. When she eventually spoke, she did so with a gently chiding tone.

"Nascent Soul cultivators are to receive my approval before deploying, grandson. I commend your initiative. This once." Wu Nenqin knew better than to argue. He bowed without a word, accepting the reprimand for what it was. Always very worried about his family's standing. It pushes him to go above and beyond. To keep in mind. Chen Liwei frowned, impossible to say if out of a rebuke for the young master's insolence or because she wished she had thought about that first.

As for Xing Xing, his lips were curled into a feral, proud smirk.

"Good." Wu Zetian crossed her legs, settling deeper on the throne.

"Now, Elder Liu, your attention, please." That took the council by surprise, but not as much as the man himself. The mousy man – the only Foundation Establishment present – looked like he was trying to remember his name for a few moments, before remembering that, yes, he was Elder Liu and, yes, the Ancestor was waiting patiently for him.

"Oh, y-ye-es! I m-m-mean, by your d-desire, Founder. I… t-the Liu fa-fa-fa... we are a-at your d-d-disposition!" The Elder spat his words like they were running from him, wiped his already drenched forehead with a wet handkerchief and put up a smile that looked more like a grimace. Wu Zetian huffed internally. She knew the type. A clerk used to being overlooked, and likely preferring it, suddenly finds himself under the spotlight. The poor man was likely trying his best not to shit bricks, as the vernacular went.

Letting him settle was pointless. He would only get more and more nervous. She went for her point instead.

"I'd appreciate a report on the general health of mortal and disciple population," she said casually. Hearing her mental impulse, the Sun-Devouring Serpent slithered around her wrist. A tiny tongue darted out as the little creature took in his surroundings. Wu Zetian freed the clerk from her gaze by focusing on petting him.

"Go ahead." Elder Liu went unresponsive, shook himself off, pulled a stack of parchment from his spatial ring, promptly dropped them, making a mess, and went down on his knees, gathering them frantically and babbling apologies. It took Chen Liwei biting down curses for him to manage to regain something approaching poise.

"Right, uhm, the s-s-s… condition o-of t-the po-po-po… people of the s-s-sect is…" He also had a terrible stutter. Ah, the Great Path. So many turned weird along its manifold rungs. For all his stuttering and social disability, Elder Liu was thorough.

His documents threw a precise picture of the pained humanity that made up the Mortal Corps, and offered a stark image of the heroic effort of the Healer Corps, which grouped all the low-level medics who took care of them and of the mostly ignored mass that made up the Outer Disciples. Even as she listened to his reports, Wu Zetian could see the confusion on the faces of the Elders. Usually speaking, mortals and Outer Disciples were, well, cannon fodder.

Once the talented and impressive were marked and taken care of, a task reserved to the Deacons and, at best, the Hall Masters, the rest was mostly ignored and left to its devices, meaning wallowing in that limbo of hard-scrabbled survival made of drudgery and hopeless training that was the world of those who didn't make the cut. Both mortals and the talentless had to work for their bread, which usually meant low-paying jobs and dismal conditions.

It was the obvious result of a culture that worshipped power, results and hyper-competition. If you lacked both of the former and couldn't make it into the latter, what was the point of investing precious resources into you? All Outer Disciples dreamed of catching their superiors' eyes, but only the most talented, driven and cunning made it. It was the norm for the cultivation world, and Wu Zetian didn't blame the Elders for conforming to it, even while she despised it. Competition was proper.

This level of reckless race was pointless. Apart from being an ethical cataclysm, it was a waste of talent, resources and energy, one she intended to correct. Starting with a few words.

"Excellent work, Elder Liu," she declared, not looking at him. The report painted a stark picture: the weaker section of the population - mortals, Outer Disciples and Inner Disciples too weak to stand on their own - were suffering from the trail of wounds, poisoning and curses left by more than three decades of fighting.

Simply put, they didn't warrant a larger investment in effort and resources, and so their conditions were mostly left to the Healer Corps, a loose network of cultivators that took care of public health and were considered a trash heap at worst and a stopgap for earning Sect merits at best.

Thanks to their stronger constitution and means, the upper half of the Sect had long mended the problem, but that left the majority of her people starving, sick, or suffering, with no particular interest from the upper echelons to fix the problem. After all, mortals and the talentless could always be replaced. Yet, that only meant the effort of the Healer Corps was all the more impressive. Few high-grade doctors were enough for the higher castes.

Most of the hard-bitten, bandaged, herb-smelling healers were the equivalent of street doctors and pallbearers, fighting an endless battle to stop pestilence and death from sweeping across the unwashed masses. There was a deep devotion to the craft in their ranks, one she could admire.

"With the influence of my breakthrough upon them, the next generation is to be watched," she intoned, knowing how earth-shattering her words would be.

"Your budget for hospitals and public maintenance shall be doubled." Elder Liu watched her, his lower lip quivering. She had read the papers. That increase would mean more hospitals and higher pay, which in turn would attract more Disciples for longer periods of time. The Maintenance Department would be able to fix public works and start new ones, as well as to pay the mortals working on them. And nobody would be able to call the Ancestor soft, since she had an excuse for lavishing her favor on the unnamed.

A win-win scenario if she had ever seen one. Wu Zetian smiled, watching the confusion on the Elders' faces turn to calculation. They would be more attentive toward their lessers, and only because the Ancestor had a reason for doing so. Diamonds awaited in the roughs, and who would be foolish enough not to look for them? If only they knew she was lying. They didn't need to, of course, and Wu Zetian enjoyed Elder Liu's teary-eyed thanks, stutters and all.