Chương 59: Chapter 8

Evening was a quiet time in the Palace. Unlike the masses, aristocrats and officials didn't like it noisy, even during leave. Many of them were too close to the sublime tranquillity of the Night not to dedicate at least part of their day to bask in it. That created the strange idea that a "party" could consist of whole families cultivating together in silence, the rich gloom swirling with their thoughts and emotions. But not like that was all. Social occasions abounded.

Not only dinners and tea parties, but also gatherings where to discuss philosophy and the Dao, listen to music plucked from delicate antiques, or, unique to the Sect, the Terraces, where one could gaze at the Night Qi wafting from the Crater and bask in its serenity. You'd think that, amidst a governmental restructuring, there was more important business that refurbish halls dedicated to painting, or stargazing, or to admiring ancient fossilized blossoms. Not for the Night aristocrats.

They may be overbearing and arrogant, even bullies, but if there was something they treasured, it was their identity. Since the Ancestor founded the Sect ten millennia before, they had always prided themselves on being an island of cultured civilization in a savage land. Surrounded by barbarians on all sides, the whole Sect did so, but the nobles brought it to new levels. It took the Siege's worst to convince them to give up their music and dances and charts, and even that managed it only temporarily.

With the Palace cleansed, they returned to them with a vengeance. Why, many were already working to have their ornamental gardens reinstated. The only things that stopped them were that they cost Qi to maintain, and the Sect's austerity policy. And of course, the word was elegance. No drunken shouting for the well-dressed nobles, no brawls or stained cloth. Conversation was polite, refined, the light fencing of culture rather than the maul of tavern life. Choked full with politics, obviously.

Because that never stopped, and the nobles were so deep into it to actually found it relaxing. And if some less polite itch needed to be scratched, families retreated to their private holdings in the city-sized Palace, or in their ancestral estates deep in the Crater, and there had their loud parties and plays and games. They always returned: the Palace was the place to be. Wu Zetian participated. Well, her clones did.

At the moment, she was attending a tea party with Chen Liwei, listening to poetry at a gathering organized by Xing Xing, examining a theatrical piece by a newly-restabilished troupe to ascertain its suitability, walking among guests to a private party, exchanging words here and there, and reading stories to a sleepy Lin and a sleepy Zhao. Many of her clones continued their patrols. Thanks to them, the general discipline of the Palace had vastly improved.

"Accidents" of nobles bullying the staff and reaching where one shouldn't still happened, but their number had dropped to a level that could almost be called negligible. With that, she didn't think it would ever stop being a problem. The differences created by cultivation, and the bad side of the Night Nobles, were just too ingrained for that to happen. She didn't mind. Catching a naughty one with his hand in the cookie jar was always funny. But maybe she was being pessimistic.

Give it a couple of generations before judging, you old woman. Her real body was deep, in the Black Halls. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Wu Zetian was enjoying the silence. After a long day of work, it was nice to be able to soak into it, the distant conversations coming from her clones notwithstanding. Humming, she put the finishing touches at her notes. Sect Status Health: Average A, as they called it, technically correct assessment. The new arrivals' health was abysmal, especially the Borderlands refugees.

Quarantine was already in place for certain family groups, and doctors would have to continue making the rounds for months before any real improvements could be seen. With all that, she wasn't complaining. The Siege had left bulletproof health protocols. Anything shy of a mass-scaled plague spread would be caught and throttled in the crib. She would stomp the rest under her heel. Numbers: Roughly 25. 000 cultivators (few Core Formation, mostly Foundation Establishment and Qi Condensation), 225.

000 Sect serfs Now that was a step forward. One full quarter more of her flock, in one fell swoop. It meant new problems, new people to feed, train and educate. Incomprehensions, adjustements, resource drain. But it also meant new possibilities. The Night Domain was choked full with sites where Qi gathered, and where Qi gathered, interesting materials were to be found.

With her new numbers, not only could she unleash a far more organized Shriek, she could start sending expeditions in the lowlands and expand the Sect's hard influence. More importantly, her Disciples could begin resettling the Grounds once used for harvesting and training. Efficient they may be, the spirit-herb plantations in and out of the walls offered only so many types. Cultivation and crafting needed more, far more.

Not to mention, being busy would keep her new boys from asking embarrassing questions about the lack of lessons. She appreciated curious children, but not always. Morale: High Army: Veterans, disciplined, used to irregular and regular warfare. Very skilled in siege defense. Very skilled in stealth and assassination.

- Nightjar Shadow Warriors (Night Bloodline) -- Night Sorcerers -- Owl Assassins - Stonemancers (Night Bloodline: Stone) -- Makers (Night Bloodline: Stone) - War-Smiths (Night Bloodline: Coldflame) -- Marked (Night Bloodline: Coldflame) - Healers -- Battle-Medics --- Yi Mender The Hand was swelling, every day a little more. But that meant her list of units was getting quite long. It was about time she put them in its own document, especially considering the latest additions.

That aside, she had managzed to squeeze enough time to finally meet that famous Yi Saint. Saints were cultivators who, no matter their Realm, achieved an ultra-deep level of comprehension with their Dao. It changed them, changed their cultivation and all the ways they could wield them. They were sages, luminaries, deep thinkers who saw and understood. In that world, that understanding translated into power. To an extent.

Yi Yin was a young man with his head among the clouds and in constant need of an attendant to remind him someone was talking to him. So lost he was in his Dao of Night that he spaced off twice while Shantin conferred with his handler. It took her personal presence to wake him up, and then he showed himself as a brilliant, enthusiastic if a bit awkward young man. And he was the real deal. She had made sure of it. The Yi Patriarch couldn't have been happier.

His family had long nurtured the ambition of becoming a Great Clan, something their low number always kept them from achieving. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. It remained to be seen if this Saint would be their ticket upward. Talent and recognition weren't enough. He had to perform well. Still, watching him summon a giant made of shadows told her that was a likelihood. And he was just Foundation Establishment. The young ones grew so fast these days.

Auxiliary Forces - Delightful Mesmerizers -- Golden-Eyed Visions - Hungry Hunters -- Blood Butchers -- Scarred Ones Giving her approval to the formation of the Auxiliary Corps wasn't an easy decision, no matter the results the Devouring Horde and Delightful Retreat brought her, or how much they begged for the chance to bear arms again. But results there had been. Undeniable ones. The peak given to the Horde had been turned into a mix between a butcher's paradise and a Khan's encampment.

Massive yurts made from the skins and scales of their quarries had been raised, alongside great butcher halls made from barely squared planks. Smoke towers, rough and thin, puffed day and night, and the scent of blood and cooking meat filled the air, together with the thunking of cleavers and the rough laughter of barbarians. The Hunters had adapted remarkably fast to their new home.

They built watch-lodges across their peak's sides and in the forests beneath, and cleared paths they used to drag their quarries back home. Great stone channels had been carved in the mountainside, leading into reservoirs that didn't let one drop go to waste. Cold caverns deep into the peak had been enlarged and turned into primitive storage. Oh, they still pined for their lost home. Their songs were still sung, filled with sadness and longing, and they looked at her Disciples like they brought the plague.

But that didn't stop them from feeding well. The Night Domain had far more life than the Borderlands, after all. If anything, they were too enthusiastic. It took her direct intervention to teach them some restraint, or that throwing debris into a river a good bridge didn't make. If anything, it impressed her that they still clung to their attempts to get a feel of her character. Anyone else would have been bought by the prosperity their new lands promised. But Stonehorn was no fool.

Even as his little spy continued her charming mission, he probed her whenever he had the chance, with that strangely endearing total lack of subtlety, and worked to advance his tribe's standing. His latest attempt was to ask for his hunters to join the Hand as auxiliaries. She wouldn't be who she was if she didn't think he and Sun Qingling hadn't agreed beforehand. After a rough start, even the Delightful Retreat had found its speed.

The beauties had worked hard, turning their ruined peak into something resembling a rustic village. Understated yet strangely graceful cottages were hugged by now thriving spirit-herb fields. Watch-towers had been erected, alongside wide pads for flying beasts to land and take off from. They built a palisade, but their primary defense was the forest that clung to their peak's sides.

It had been a stroke of luck: the mesmerizers found a strain of arboreal spirit-beasts that required little maintenance, was very powerful and susceptible to their abilities. Now, their village was warded by a small forest of stationary creatures that kept constant watch and could be roused at a moment's notice. Sun Qingling made sure her orders were respected: only a handful of Rank 6 Spirit-beasts, towering oak-things whose boughs were like swinging towers, were kept by her clan.

A new type of Retreat girl was on the rise, one who ran barefoot, moved across the canopy like a doe on the ground and whose garments were adorned with leaves, vines and dirt. With that, the girls didn't give up on their roots. Small weaveries had been implanted. Here, linen was spun, dyed and turned into colorful outfits that would have made a killing even in refined company.

Flocks of domesticated birds chirped from bird-houses built just for them, flittering everywhere, filling the village with their colors and music. There was something poetic to be said about a beautiful woman in rustic garb, standing on a wooden porch while sorrounded by singing birds. If the Delightful Retreat was going for that kind of image, they hit a bullseye.

One of their three Elder Leaf, like they called them – Treeleaf, Greenleaf, Greatleaf – had taken permanent position in the center of their village like an ancestral site, and the girl had covered its boughs with colorful ribbons and trinkets. They too asked for the chance to join the Hand, and it wasn't difficult to see the reason.

Dangerous the work of a soldier may be, it was on the battlefield that they would be able to accrue honor and rewards, maybe further integration in the Sect as well, even if she didn't think that was a boon for the Horde. Whatever the reason, there was a decision to take there, one she heard her advisors about before taking it. Chen Liwei had said no, a firm one. Xing Xing advised yes, the lone word managing to convey a disproportionate amount of sly interest. Wu Zetian decided for the latter.

The Hand could benefit from having new specialties in its employ. In the stationing force department, the Nightborn, used to be slippery like fish, were lacking: the combined power of mesmerized spirit-beasts and burly hunters would help fill the vacancy, to an extent. And then, she was intrigued by the idea. Anything that created unity was good in her books, and she intended to reward any initiative in that sense. An olive branch, as they called it.

And since they put her in a good mood, she even allowed them to rename their peaks. It took some work, especially from Stonehorn who kept coming with ridiculous names, but they eventually settled on Feast Peak and Bird Garden Peak. Lovely, she thought with a hint of amusement. Doctrine: Rapid maneuvering, heavy offensive power, reliance on fixed fortifications for defense, irregular warfare Equipment: Battered yet serviceable. No new addition. Only repaired or recycled items.

→ Improving - Half-Armor - Qi-oriented weaponry (spears, arrows, short swords) Tasks: Gathering Resources, Mustering Troops → Extending Reach Monthly expenditure/production/supplies Food: 3. 500 Tons / 3. 000 Tons / 13. 500 Tons Water: 25 Million Liters / 20 Million Liters / 85 Million Liters Clothing: 175 Tons / 150 Tons / 195 Tons Fuel: 17. 000 Tons / 15. 000 Tons / 53.

000 Tons Production: - Shallow Underworld Mass Plantations (Millet, Grain, Soybeans, Mushrooms, Ju Vines, Nightworms, Cotton, Assorted Vegetables and Fruit Trees – Night-strains) - Shallow Underworld Industrial Farms (Tanbu Pigs, Razor-Chicken, One-horned Cows) - Shallow Underworld Clothing Industries (Low to Middle Quality) - Middle Grey Underworld Ghost Forest Storage: - City Water Towers, Ranfu Storage Complex, Roads of Blessings, Ghost Storages Was it even a surprise? No, not really.

More people was more food was more clothes was more fuel. It was good that the Yan Luo hadn't reached the limits of numbers it could sustain. Yet, something to keep in mind. Among the many other things.

Spirit Herbs Low-quality: 80 Tons (Effective: 5) / 30 Tons / 120 Tons → 80 Tons (Effective: 5) / 40 Tons / 70 Tons Medium-quality: 20 Tons (Effective: 2) / 10 Ton / 35 → 20 Tons (Effective: 2) / 8 Ton / 27 High-quality: 3 Tons (Effective: 0) / 2 Ton / 2 → 20 Tons (Effective: 2) / 8 Ton / 27 Peak: // Production: - Delightful Retreat Fields - Devouring Horde Hunting Grounds - Outer Ring Plantations - Private Gardens Beast parts Low-quality: 60 Tons (Effective: 6) / 30 Tons / 60 Tons → 80 Tons (Effective: 6) / 40 Tons / 94 Tons Medium-quality: 30 Tons (Effective: 2) / 22 Tons / 38 Tons → 40 Tons (Effective: 2) / 30 Tons / 50 Tons High-quality: 2 Tons (Effective: 0) / 3 Tons / 6 Tons → 3 Tons (Effective: 0) / 4 Tons / 9 Tons Peak: // Production: - Devouring Horde Hunting Grounds - Scavenger Moon Expeditions - Shadow-Beast Hunting Distribution: - Night Domain Gathering Depots - Scavenger Moon Caravans A race against consumption.

More was needed. More production facilities. More territories. More resources. The work to keep a metropolis fed was unending. The one to keep so many cultivators on their path even more so. Wu Zetian enjoyed the challenge. Spirit Stones Low-quality: 1. 200. 000 / 1 million / 1 million Medium-quality: 230. 000 / 150. 000 / 0 High-quality: 50. 000 / 20. 000 / 0 Peak: // Production: - Hefei Mines - Crater Shadow-Beasts Gathering The most pleasing section.

The majority of the new arrivals had been redirected to work in the Hefei, and it showed. Mortals. Not cultivators. She didn't intend to waste soldiers in the tunnels, her respect for the profession notwithstanding. Mortals with the right equipment could do most of the work just as well as any cultivator. Only in specialized jobs were formation masters and the brute force of a cultivator needed. Even in those, the proper equipment could limit the involvement.

She had cleared the Hefei Mines personally, sweeping the tunnels of the detritus, living and not, that had settled there in decades of abandon. The result was an over-abundance of space that the miners were filling eagerly. That meant that a whole minerary town was springing in the mines. The refugees of the Borderland enjoyed the place more than anybody else: the Night above unnerved them.

They preferred the tunnels, which reminded them of their home, with the difference that there was no demonic master to scrape for here. Any Nightborn would have found the conditions oppressive. To them, the fair wages, cozy confines, human treatment and chance for rest was like a dream come true. Suddenly, Wu Zetian wasn't loved by the refugees; she was adored. Any problem was pinned on the overseers. The Great Mother, as they took to call her, could do no wrong, and would soon put everything to right.

Too endearing not to like them. I'll have to keep an eye on them. And that was it. Problems, tasks, memos to keep in mind. There never was an end to them, was it? She didn't mind, but even she had to keep a stop to them from time to time. It was just for the best. Above, Evening was coming to an end. Nobles were taking their leave, and hosts were receiving their share of thanks.

Some would continue until it was time for Work again – cultivators at this level needed very little in sleep – but it would all be to a more sedate place. Most of them would return home, to rest, catch up with the family and generally dedicate some time to interests, cultivation being first among them; or sleep, if they felt like it. Ultimately, it was up to them. This was a time that tradition left open to do with as you wanted. The Nightborn who could be bothered to name it called it the Rest. Very appropriate.

Wu Zetian pushed the last scroll away, and relaxed with a small sigh. Lin and Zhao were fast asleep. The corridors were secure, and the people she needed to talk with were resting. For all purposes, she was out of work. … allegedly. She may have pushed on. Work never ended. But she wouldn't. Her time with her new family had taught that work couldn't fill every living, breathing moment. There was a time for introspection, and remembrance. That time was now. Mine. Or hers. But there is no difference; there is?

Her time, the chimera's time. When, unbothered by that fragile world above, she could flex her muscles and let her power sing. With all that entailed, but she didn't mind that. She was a grown girl, after all.