## The Matter of Idle Sword Vessels

A hush fell over the Imperial Study as the Grand Tutor, newly arrived, spoke of nothing but idle sword vessels. Many had expected the day to be dominated by discussions of formally acknowledging the Grand Tutor’s position to the world, choosing an auspicious date for grand ceremonies and pronouncements.

The sword vessels of Great Li, alongside the mountain-crossing barges, were the fruit of a sacred pact between the dynasty and the artificers of the Mo clan. They were instruments of war, forged with the sweat, gold, and lives of the realm. It was these vessels and barges that, in recent decades, allowed the Ministry of Works to stand alongside the Ministry of War in their demands of the Exchequer.

The dockyards where these leviathans were birthed were hallowed ground, a sanctum of the first order. Even the most seasoned Marshals, their breastplates gleaming with a thousand battles, could not witness the “christening” of these treasures without layers of approval, seals, and the simultaneous assent of the Emperor and Grand Tutor Cui Chan. Since Cui Chan’s secretive departure from his post, no Marshal had set foot within those grounds. If Marshals were barred, then the Nine Ministers of the capital and secondary capital could only dream of it.

The cultivators of Great Li, bound to the terrestrial pulse, held the solemn duty of guarding these dockyards in shifts, ever vigilant against treachery and the whisper of secrets carried on the wind.

Present was Shen Chen, Minister of War, a living monument to three reigns, his spirit dimmed by the passage of years. In his youth, the old Minister had dismissed Cui, the Grand Tutor, as a mere outsider. He had never known the sting of battle, yet he commanded the armies of Great Li.

Leaning heavily upon his gnarled staff, Shen Chen cast a smiling glance toward the newly appointed Right Vice Minister, Wu Wangcheng. A fresh face at these small council gatherings, Wu Wangcheng, barely past his fortieth year, had risen from the rank of general in a frontier province. He was a warrior forged in the crucible of death, ascending through the ranks of the Li armies with no ties to the venerable houses, a trusted blade of Prince Luo, Song Mu.

Upon his arrival in the capital, Wu Wangcheng had rented, at his own expense, a reputedly haunted house of ill omen. He seemed little enamored with the life of a courtier, even expressing to the Emperor a yearning for the brutal realities of the northern wastes.

For a man of war to rise to the position of general, a lord of a province, and then to be called to the capital as a Vice Minister, especially one of War, was considered a path of unparalleled glory in the courts of Great Li. Five or six years spent honing his skills in the capital and the Ministry of War would be rewarded with a prestigious title, bestowed by the Emperor himself, not by the Ministry of Rites.

Sensing the old Minister’s expectant gaze, Wu Wangcheng stood and declared, “Grand Tutor, of the three dockyards within Yu Province, those at Yellow Sky Flats, six vessels in total—finished and under construction—are slated to join three mountain-crossing barges on the northern battlefields by next summer’s heat. The sword vessels will escort the barges on their perilous journey. All nine have been reported and registered at the central Wen Temple.”

The vessels and barges remained unnamed, a matter traditionally decided by assigning a provincial title. The provinces were already vying for the honor, but Wu Wangcheng knew better than to broach the topic at the small council.

Chen Pingan, the Grand Tutor, nodded, his knowledge of the vessels’ construction cycle apparent. “So, there are six idle sword vessels. As long as they can take to the sky.”

Wu Wangcheng frowned. “May I inquire, Grand Tutor, why the urgency? Has some crisis erupted on the northern front? Does the Wen Temple require immediate reinforcement?”

Since neither Song Changjing nor Song Mu had alerted Great Li of the need to mobilize the vessels, Wu Wangcheng could only assume the directive originated from the central Wen Temple.

Chen Pingan waved a hand dismissively, a smile playing on his lips. “Vice Minister Wu, remain seated. It has long been custom at these small councils, unless I am mistaken, or have these old foxes decided to make you the butt of their jests? Perhaps they wished to prolong their amusement? Ah, yes, that, too, is an old custom, though unwritten.”

A wave of laughter rippled through the room. Both “customs” had been established long ago by Grand Tutor Cui Chan.

Wu Wangcheng spoke honestly, “I was indeed the subject of mirth for nearly ten days. Minister Zhao took pity and informed me of the traditions, advising me to remain seated during discussions. When I questioned Minister Shen in my own Ministry, he claimed such practices were unheard of within Great Li’s courts, and then gave me a lengthy sermon on the importance of good manners, claiming a new face should strive to be recognized, so that when the time comes to beg at the doors of the Exchequer, the formidable Minister Mu might be persuaded to grant an audience, perhaps even a scolding.”

As he spoke, the Vice Minister, a man in the prime of his life and holding a high position, flushed crimson with embarrassment. He was flustered.

Zhao Duanjin, Minister of Rites, sat serenely, lifting a celadon teacup to his lips. The bickering between the Ministries of War and the Exchequer was a familiar, tiresome affair.

Mu Yan, Minister of the Exchequer, fixed his gaze upon the young Grand Tutor, his expression composed. “Beggars?! Come to my Exchequer to beg for coin?! If the Ministry of War possessed an ounce of decency, they would never utter such deranged words! Every spare copper I have is funneled toward the War Ministry!”

“Push me too far, Wu Wangcheng, and I’ll welcome you with open arms, bowl in hand, ready to prostrate myself before you! Two beggars, exchanging New Year’s greetings! I am but a Vice Minister, shame is but another coin in my pocket.”

Chen Pingan turned slightly, a wry smile on his face as he regarded the Emperor, who had been observing the exchange with amusement. “Your Majesty, these gatherings were not so… lively during my previous attendance.”

Emperor Song He chuckled. “Forgive the Grand Tutor’s amusement.”

Wu Wangcheng settled back into his seat, his mind troubled. He was not concerned that the new Grand Tutor would squander the realm’s resources. Yet, if Great Li maintained too close a relationship with the central Wen Temple, problems might arise. The Grand Tutor likely had his reasons, but for a warrior such as Wu Wangcheng, the Temple’s influence felt like a heavy chain upon Li’s iron steeds. In return, the Wen Temple would surely offer some reward, but would the Li Iron Cavalcade remain the unmatched force of the Nine Continents?

The poets’ tales of golden-bridled, azure steeds with jade saddles filled Wu Wangcheng with scorn. He feared that the Iron Cavalcade would be reduced to mere pawns of the Temple, ornaments for the Confucian sages.

Perhaps the Emperor and his assembled lords, even the young Grand Tutor, failed to grasp the depth and complexity of the concerns stirring within the breast of the War Ministry’s Vice Minister.

Wu Wangcheng’s path to power differed greatly from those gathered. He had ridden alongside the Iron Cavalcade, fighting to the heart of Treasure Bottle Isle, to Old Dragon City, his steed splashing through the surf. He had fought, and retreated, on the battlefields of the secondary capital, beneath the banners of Su Gaoshan, Cao Ping, and Prince Song Mu. It was not arrogance, but simple truth, to say that while the others had served Great Li with distinction, they had only known the barbarity of the northern tribes through reports. He alone, though the least among them in rank and experience, understood the brutal, heartbreaking reality of the battle at Sword Qi Great Wall.

Wu Wangcheng hesitated, words caught in his throat. He feared his concerns were misplaced, that he might offend the Last Hidden Officer, the one who had presided over the battle. He gripped the arms of his chair tightly, resolving to wait. An opportunity would arise, and he would speak his mind to the Grand Tutor.

Chen Pingan, as if changing the subject, asked, “After the dispatch of the letter of state, were there any who refused to attend?”

South of the Great River, half of Treasure Bottle Isle, sovereign nations, some newly formed, others restored, had severed ties with their former overlord, the Great Li Dynasty. Some of these courts and immortal sects sought to remove the stone steles, erected by Great Li, from the sacred mountains. At the previous council meeting, the high-ranking spirits of the region were present, and the Southern Peak, Fan Junmao, had provided a list that was deemed lacking in both weight and names.

Spearheading the opposition were the Dragon Rainbow Dynasty, an entity nearly as powerful as the Yellow Court, and Wind Angle Mountain, a sect boasting but a single nascent soul master. In response, the Ministries of Rites and War had jointly issued a letter of state, summoning the ministers of rites and esteemed immortals from the various nations to Great Li’s capital to discuss the matter.

This missive, wholly unlike Great Li’s traditional style, painstakingly listed each offending kingdom and sect, a total of sixty names. The calligraphy was exquisite, the work of Minister of Rites Zhao Duanjin, but the content breathed a chilling aura.

Vice Minister of Rites Dong Hu cleared his throat and reported, “They have all arrived, in due time, and registered at the Court of State Ceremonies, without exception. Moreover, thirty additional figures, not on the initial list, have expressed a desire for amity with Great Li, seeking the establishment of high-ranking maritime trade commissions, or claiming to be beset by remnants of the northern tribes, too weak to deal with them, desiring Great Li to dispatch troops for protection. Several lesser kingdoms even offered themselves as tributaries.”

The old Vice Minister caught a flicker of disappointment in the young Grand Tutor’s eyes, though he could not discern whether it was because the Minister of Rites had been too lenient, or because the fools had not given Great Li a proper opportunity.

Minister of Justice Ma Yuan inquired, “Grand Tutor, should the records of the Ministry’s Secret Archives be updated to reflect ‘Joy Candle’s’ cultivation level at Fallen Phoenix?”

Chen Pingan nodded. “Add ‘Fourteenth Realm’ within the parenthesis.”

Ma Yuan pressed, “What of the Grand Tutor himself? Should we update your file?”

Chen Pingan shook his head. “Not yet. I remain but an Immortal. When I attain the Ascendant Realm, add the Green Reed Sword Sect and compile it all together.”

Ma Yuan nodded, smiling. Chen Pingan had previously provided a list outlining the resources of Fallen Phoenix Mountain, though the levels of the demonic sword cultivators Joy Candle and Bai Jing, currently disguised as Xie Gou, were omitted.

At his previous appearance, Chen Pingan had been a nascent soul master.

Many of the matters discussed at previous gatherings had been put into motion, each with meticulous care. The young Grand Tutor’s appointment marked the beginning of a new era, the policies enacted had the potential to change the fate of the dynasty and the entirety of Treasure Bottle Isle. Each official knew that this was a new examination with the new Grand Tutor being both the examiner and proctor.

New rules had been established for the promotion and transfer of spirits. And Great Li had been quietly assisting Clouded Dawn Mountain, Everlasting Spring Palace, and Old Dragon City in their applications to become full-fledged sects in the central Wen Temple system, removing the label “provisional”. A new surge of cultivators were accompanying the armies on the frontlines in the northern wastes.

Cen Wenqian had become the new magistrate of the Money Pond River, his rise through the ranks so swift as to dazzle and bewilder onlookers. Though Wu Yun had failed to inherit the position, his spiritual body had been strengthened, and this water spirit, known for his volatile temper, had been granted dominion over an expanded territory and made second-in-command of the Money Pond River Palace, assisting Cen Wenqian. Rumors were already circulating that Wu Yun would soon be promoted, while Cen Wenqian was to be sent to the Great River. A storyteller raised his finger and pointed towards the Heavens.

One matter was changed. The assessment of the spirits within the Great Li Dynasty, initially set to be conducted every ten years, had been relaxed to a more reasonable thirty.

The spirits deemed “heretical” by Great Li in the southern realms, numerous in their ranks, had their temples destroyed and were punished. Now they were “called to the capital” to discuss the existence of the steles on their sacred mountains. Many had their status and repaired shrines stripped overnight as Great Li’s court whispered their intentions to the various countries, hinting at an offer to restore the spirits, only for the offer to be retracted due to unrest among the courts and sects that sought the removal of the steles. The South Peak had announced that was indeed the case at their night banquet, relayed to them by Wang Juan, Mountain Lord of Mountain of Harvesting Fungus.

The courts and sects of Treasure Bottle Isle stirred with unseen blades.

Chen Pingan turned towards Emperor Song He and said, “According to Great Li’s traditions, the seals of office of retiring Grand Tutors are to be surrendered to the Ministry of Works for destruction. I shall retain Cui Chan’s seal. When I, too, relinquish this post, both seals shall be destroyed. As for my office and residence in the capital, they shall remain as they are. Your Majesty?”

Song He smiled and nodded. “The Grand Tutor shall decide the matter.”

The creation of Chen Pingan’s seal had been no small matter, a web of rituals and traditions. The Ministry of Rites and the Astronomical Bureau had chosen the date, the Emperor had initiated the writing, the Ministry of Works had procured the materials and performed the carving, and the spirits of the Five Peaks, the dukes and marquises of the rivers, the city god temples, and the martial temples of the capital had all played their part.

As for Cui Chan’s old seal, it remained on the desk. Neither Chen Pingan or Emperor Song He said a word.

Song He was curious about something else.

The Great Teacher, first disciple of the Most Holy Teacher, had personally recommended Chen Pingan for a title at the academy, but the central Wen Temple had refused.

Rumor had it that Mao Xiaodong of the Rites and Records Palace said Chen Pingan had no experience teaching at an academy, no written works, and had not personally slain demons on the battlefields of Treasure Bottle Isle. The Wen Temple would not award him any title, much less one of scholar.

An elder overseeing the matters of the Wen Temple had simply nodded.

But the old scholar then mentioned Chen Pingan teaching at Spring Mountain Academy and the Snow Pine Hall also extending an invitation to Chen Pingan.

Mao Xiaodong had simply said they would wait to see until Chen Pingan taught and headed the Hall.

The old scholar had replied that they would then speak again.

Outside the Imperial Study, two-ponytail girl, Chen Pingan’s temporary bodyguard, stood by the doorway.

Facing her was the palace eunuch, white-haired and fair-skinned, hands folded over his belly.

He had stood there for so long, a foot away from the wall.

The “girl” was staring at him, but he kept looking ahead.

As the most powerful eunuch in Great Li, he knew many secrets.

Aside from her many titles, her sect was the most interesting thing about her.

The fact that she was a demon sword cultivator from the northern wastes seemed insignificant.

Xie Gou said, “I’ve been here before. We’ve met, right?”

The old eunuch felt awkward. The Emperor was discussing state matters with the Grand Tutor and his ministers through a wall.

He could not ignore her. The eunuch said, “Sub-Officer Xie, I am simply fulfilling my duty. Even these words will be recorded.”

Xie Gou asked, “Is this another one of Cui’s rules?”

The eunuch nodded.

Xie Gou said, “What if I say something? Will that be recorded too?”

The eunuch nodded again.

Xie Gou’s eyes widened. “In that case, listen, and I’ll say something!”

Ever since she learned she was good at writing travel journals, Xie Gou had been motivated.

The old eunuch was dumbfounded, and smiled, shaking his head.

Xie Gou removed a book and walked towards the eunuch. “Take a look. See, I can write travel journals. What do you think?”

The eunuch could only look at the journal. What secrets was this demon hiding?

“Day Two, the almanac said it was good to travel. The weather was clear, so I went down the mountain with my friend. We wore robes, straw hats, and sandals. We walked twenty miles, passing Qingping, seeing a collapsed boundary stele. We took a picture. Peace was hard to find. The floods, droughts, locusts, and wars took many lives. Even the mountain was not safe.”

“Twenty years passed like a flash. How can we not cultivate.”

“The cities were empty, the citizens listless. Ten miles outside the city, we rested at an inn. Thirty miles, we walked along the shore, passing the Divide Ridge. We cooked some rice and climbed to the top, seeing the lake. Qingping was below us, but then the wind blew, clouding the air. I remembered how difficult it was to travel, never seeing another person. I saw beasts, and monsters…”

The eunuch thought it was well written.

Xie Gou smiled. “This is the third edition. My Mountain Lord only made small changes.”

The eunuch chuckled. Xie Gou said, “How is it? Did you see the skill in the simplicity?”

The eunuch slightly turned his head. Xie Gou asked, “What does that mean?”

The eunuch said, “Turn the page.”

Xie Gou happily did so.

“Day Three, we walked a hundred miles down the mountain and bought dry food from the locals. We passed the Meet Immortal Bridge. The rain came and muddied the path. Fifteen miles later, we reached the Dumb Beach. We sailed into the night, with passengers telling ghost stories…”

The eunuch spoke, “Did the Grand Tutor add the stele inscription part on the first page?”

Xie Gou was surprised. “You could tell?! Fine, our Mountain Lord did add it!”

The eunuch simply laughed. What would you use a boundary stone for?

Afterwards, Xie Gou turned the page and the eunuch offered some comments, looking over half the journal.

Xie Gou suddenly closed the book. “I can see through you. You were laughing at me this entire time, right?”

The eunuch crouched down. “I did not laugh at you.”

Xie Gou said, “Because you know my strength? You’re afraid I’ll stab you?”

The eunuch said, “Because you mistook me for a scholar, and the first to call me old sir.”

Xie Gou scoffed. “You scholars care about little things.”

The eunuch quickly stood up.

It was not just the journal that turned the page, but the Great Li Dynasty, and Treasure Bottle Isle itself.

Chen Pingan asked, “The seat of the Minister of Official Vacancies has been empty since old Guan died. Do we have any candidates?”

This was important, and the Emperor and vice ministers would have to speak up.

Chen Pingan lifted his tea, and changed the topic. “How should we deal with the Qiu country? Say something. Let me hear it.”

Old Minister Shen raised his head, but said nothing. Wu Wangcheng started to speak, but the old Minister shook his head.

The Grand Tutor had asked, but the Ministry of War had not answered. The room was filled with silence.

Among the fiefdoms of Great Li, the kingdoms to the South of the Great River came and went. In the North, only a few remained. Chen Pingan and Wei Bo had been talking about the Queen Dowager no longer taking power, and passing it to her son. Accompanying the Prince to Great Li was his Minister of Rites, who loved frontier poems and swordsmanship.

Emperor Song He broke the silence. “It is my will. We will decide the candidate for the Minister of Official Vacancies together with this.”

Chen Pingan did not look at the Emperor, but stared at the Great Li officials.

He said, “The Ministries of War and Justice will immediately submit a list of everyone in the Qiu country who wants to fight, from the Dowager and the Emperor, to the ministers, to the generals, to the scholars, to the heroes, to the sects, to the…”

“If you haven’t prepared yet? Fine, I’ll wait here while you prepare.”

Chen Pingan closed his eyes. “A small fiefdom like the Qiu is even worthy to be discussed alongside Great Li’s Minister of Official Vacancies?”