Chương 52: Book 2, Chapter 1

Wu Zetian dreamed of the tree again. The moon still hung in the sky, a crooked grin on a tattered mantle. Stars winked mischievously, telling an eldritch story just out of comprehension. The tree emerged from a sea of white flowers, its halves glowing into the crystalline dark. But there was no old man to beckon. Two women sat beneath it, one for each. One wore a suit and a sad smile. She said nothing, nothing at all.

The other bowed on the roots, as though a great weight lay on her shoulders, painting her expression with misery.

"I lived ten thousand lives," she lamented.

"I died ten thousand deaths. And I learned nothing. Absolutely nothing." The old man beckoned, and the dream spiralled away like water in a well. Wu Zetian opened her eyes. Her Iron Blossom was as serene as ever. The liquid darkness flowed, and no sound broke the immaculate silence. It keeps replaying… She should have expected it. When she inherited the previous Zetian's memories and powers, it was obvious she would do the same with her emotional baggage. As if I didn't have enough of that on my own…

It was like pressing a button." Mother? Can… can I show you something?" What is it? I am busy. Are you done with your homework?"" Mmmh… not yet?"" Not… what is this? Something has been distracting you. What is it? Tell me. Immediately."" I…! You… you're hurting me! Mom, please!"" Silence. You will tell me what has been distracting you from your duties. Now."" It's…!"" What is this… is this a paper plane? Who taught you to make one?"" It's… a gift! It's a gift for you! I thought…"" You… thought?

You don't think, boy. You obey. Someone has been teaching you this useless skill. You will tell me whom and there will be conseguences. Immediately."" M-mom! Please!" Wu Zetian bowed her head, a wave of shame washing over her. He had been only seven. The most obedient, most intelligent, kindest little boy, and she the horrible mother obsessed with moulding him the way she intended, not an inch of difference allowed.

She kept him in tightly controlled environments, made him learn only what was needed for his future role as her successor. She wasn't her father, after all. She recognized the cracks in her own conditioning, the imperfections in the homunculus, and would not, would not, would not repeat them. Her child would be perfect, both the ideal continuator of their line and free from the scars that forced her to drugs and pain to keep herself together. It was ironic.

Among all the obsession for control, she still managed to love him. But her love was a mad, selfish beast that squeezed the life out of him and refused to let him go. How could she? There were only them on that road. Only he could understand. Only he could share in her loneliness. And she wouldn't let go of him. Ever. He was hers, hers, hers. She still remembered the mix of terror and anger tearing through her. Making paper planes! Who dared to teach him that? It was more than an insolence, more than a violation.

It was an assault on the only bond that existed in her cold, lonely life. When it came out that a maid, compassionate toward a little child who had no idea of what playing meant, had taught him, her rage had exploded. She had ruined that poor soul, torn into her with a terrified viciousness that had no precedent and left no crumbs. No more planes since then. Wu Zetian sighed, banishing the memory. He'll be happier without me around. I only wish I could know how he's doing…

One day maybe, when she had enough comprehension of the Dao to be able to hop across dimensions. Some novels did that… Silly thoughts aside, or maybe not so silly, it was time to get up. No matter if two lifetimes of horrible decisions and traumas crowded her head. Smoothing her face, Wu Zetian stood up. The Sun-Eating Serpent felt it, and emerged from her sleeve to reclaim their share of attention. She gave it gladly, of course, scratching the little thing under their chin. Being that cute had to be rewarded.

By now, she had a good grasp of her previous self's capabilities. Her first talent was also her greatest. The terrifying Domain effect that emanated from her immortal soul not only produced darkness deep enough to swallow suns, but it also formed half of the Night that forever hung over the Domain and lent her ears and eyes in every corner swaddled by the dark. That Night Qi was hers, a colossal version of the darkness summoned by an average practitioner. Yet, its true monstrosity?

It was a bleed effect, the equivalent of her expirations. She let it out because it was useful, because it sped up the accumulation of power from the Shadow Dragon Vein to her advantage and because stifling it required actual effort. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. In its confines, there was little she couldn't reach or attack.

She only needed to project a technique at a point: whatever unfortunate lingered there would suffer her wrath as though she had him in front of her. Her clones were created through it, by clumping and shaping Night Qi in a puppet and then seeding it with a fragment of her consciousness. They could project her power faster and more effectively, but their strong point was that they could act on their own, freeing her attention, and she could swap through them faster than through any technique.

If the Domain was her playing field, they were its networks, providing optimization and quicker movement. It said a lot about the power of an Immortal that, in her sight, it was nothing but parlour tricks. In a real battle, quantity and range would be exchanged for density and power, simplicity for complexity. A Core Formation Elder would have been able to swathe himself into a veil of mystery and darkness deep enough to smother sounds, swallow traces and interrupt perception itself.

Her Moonless Existence let her fool Gods and the world. The "weight" of her existence was hidden behind it, the "footprint" her being left on reality became an omission. For all purposes, she was just another shadow. None can beat this old woman when it comes to hide and seek, she mused, swathing herself in the Existence. Through Distance Made Moot, she did more than twist paths and perceptions. The space under her domain disappeared, turning the distance of 5 li into the breadth of one step.

She appeared in her study as though stepping through a threshold. Glancing toward her desk, she took a moment to appreciate how clean it was. Sure, the equivalent of an archive waited in her mind, so maybe it was a little inaccurate, but you just had to enjoy certain things, you know? The doors slid silently open, and the sounds of messy mortal life made their entrance. Shanti was waiting right outside, looking as though she had been doing so since they left. Without her mask, the woman was a vision of cold beauty.

The secretary uniform – skirt cinched neatly at the waist, short-sleeved blouse and low-heeled sandals – complemented her athletic, well-endowed figure perfectly. You could have gone mad looking for imperfections on her. From her hair – held in a long braid that reached her waist, with slightly parted bangs and a fringe that could have been used to measure geometry – to her clothes, to her posture, everything about her was pressed, cleaned, straight-up immaculate.

The only concession to ornament was the bow behind her back. Her eyes were emeralds gleaming with razor-sharp attention one second and a distant look the next, like only certain topics were worthy of her attention.

"Honored Ancestor," she greeted, bowing deeply. Her voice was a polite monotone, what a pen or a tool may have.

"I hope you had a good rest." Wu Zetian inclined her head in acknowledgement. Shanti came from the same side of the Owl of Tenzin, ninja-like families that her old self had cultivated to be absolutely loyal. The Shadowed lived for service, which was tragic, but also too useful to pass on. For now, at least.

"Quite." She strode beyond, the secretary falling after her at a respectful distance.

"Anything to report?" The Shadowed were workaholic nutjobs, of which Shanti was a prominent one. Be an Ancestor, be polite to them and they would start wondering if they did anything wrong. Speak of work and duty, and they would be like fish thrown into water. As always, contemplating the many ways of mortality sparked a flicker of amused condescension. Still progress, I suppose.

"Yes, Founder." The woman produced a small scroll.

"The integration of the new arrivals is proceeding apace. As you ordered, the Talon deployed Eye and Ear operatives to control the refugees from the Borderlands. At the same time, Internal Affairs is operating to educate both groups on their new duties and realities."

"How bad is it?" Shanti checked her little scroll.

"The Bordeland refugees have to be constantly reminded of the unwholesome nature of thievery and violence. Three cases of human flesh consumption have been discovered and the culprits punished. Thirty cases of child trafficking have been discovered and anyone involved punished." Wu Zetian didn't sigh. She didn't sigh. But she did raise a hand, cutting her off. For a people used to near-anarchy, a period of acclimatation was inevitable. She only hoped it wouldn't take more than one generation.

Sky knew she was in need of troops.

"What about the others?"

"The Qinghai refugees' integration is mostly completed. They only need minimal guidance to curb their roughness. An easy task to accomplish, given their willingness to learn and near-total obedience." Good. Expected, but still good. It almost made her wish she had invested only in that direction to replenish her numbers. But she was trying to run a clean ship here, so that was that.

"Have the Liu involved themselves?"

"Extensively, Ancestor. They and the Yi family have been offering assistance to the refugees in all matters."

"Mmh… checkmark them for a commendation. And schedule an appointment with the Yi patriarch. They'll have the possibility to tell me about that Saint of theirs."

"Yes, Founder." As they walked, Sable Lotus Palace unfolded around them. The ruckus of reconstruction and warehouse-moving was steadily giving way to the shuffling of bureaucrats and the hum of administrative work. Whoever they met, be they maids and servants busy keeping the place running, or civil servants, they dropped what they were doing to give their respects.

"Reform-wise?" She asked, smiling at a gaggle of newly-inducted diplomats who tried their best to hide behind each other.

"The administration the honored Founder has sketched is being set up at a steady pace."

"The Office of Tributes is mostly completed and at work. The bulk of the work entailed only reorganizing the archives, re-allocating quotas and expanding personnel. So is the Office of Census. Thanks to the Hand's contributions, the additions to the statistics ordered by the Ancestor have been completed."

"The Office of Logistics has just surpassed its inception phase. As the honored Founder knows, the previous administration allowed near-complete management autonomy to its contractors. Not only that means that every contractor tended to optimize its facilities at its own pace, but also that paperwork, measurements and storage methods differed. While inventories and accounts are complete, Logistics is currently busy addressing these problems and enforcing standardization.

Also, the various institutions the contractors utilized to coordinate transportation are being folded into the Office, and their personnel re-assigned. New quotas are being drafted and forecast reports are being prepared. Still, these concerns take second place compared to the Office building strategic reserves, as per the Founder's demands."

"The Treasury is similarly busy stockpiling resources. Its administrative re-organization and personnel increase is mostly finished, and a new budget is in the drafting process. Like Logistics, the Office's main task at the moment consists of folding into itself the departments the Hand of Night, Blackflame Foundry and Scavenger Moon kept for the same uses. As per the Founder's orders, a full audit is being held over personnel.

Those who have stained themselves with gross offenses are being dismissed, with the majority being retained for their experience. An accounting office is also being organized to control finances."

"The Office has already taken charge of the collection of taxes, but the directors respectfully point out that with the ban in spirit stone trading, there's very little worthwhile in that direction. They submitted a list of possible new methods of taxation, and a request to put the Hefei Mines under more stringent Treasury control."

"They'll be patient instead. As soon as the new contracts in the Domain are in place and the city's economy is running, they'll have their chance to tax from those."

"Noted, Founder."

"Speaking of, the Office of Contracts is being swamped at the moment, I am guessing."

"Indeed, Founder."