On the surface the near outbreak of plague, and the raging famine in Yuzhou south of the Kingdom of Dajin, was of much concern to them. With its ever growing casualties and blood curdling human suffering at fore, it would have been only natural for Lord Wei to summon an urgent meeting of the Grand Elder’s Council in Jinghai. And on the surface, it had. For a while.

“…since half of the Jinghai’s well known personage were already present for my grandson’s capping ceremony, it was only natural for us to proceed from there to these more secluded corners to conduct this formal affair. I beg your pardon, all too clear as I stand, that much of the theme for today's table is unpleasant, sordid at best. The famine sees no respite – and by this moment, the whole town of Anshui in Yuzhou has been completely barricaded for a while.”

The location was still in Wei’s manor premises; time, on the very day of that auspicious occasion. 

Like aged pieces of threadbare brocade, with their proper manners and airs, and silver hair crowned over their heads – although not much could be seen in that dark chamber, but a sniff of resemblance, a repertoire of ease and discomfort at the same time hung overhead which could be easily gleaned; these men were seated with a shared sense of despondency.

“…though we see no results, as of what we had expected from such great a measure when barricading all human communication in there –”

This declaration cued some shifting in the audience; rustling of fabrics followed screeching of pulled out chairs, gasping of some sort, a cough or two accompanied clearing of throats. The nervousness was palpable.

“Anshui, their inhabitants, and their recent antagonism – we have plenty of time to talk about all that. But let’s talk of this, unjust uprising we have been affronted with in the south first–”

Warm chairs, biting coldness and darkness of a chilly, rainy day.

The plague, as it turned out, was of less importance than the growing unrest in the southern Dajin. Lord Wei left no doubt in others' minds of his growing concern over this particular event which he foresaw as a call of something more devilish. 

At that moment, the sunlight slowly crept down from the roof, stealing stealthily from the window panes, arousing every face to have a feature, all the shadows lost to show those haloed faces of twelve men in that cold chamber. Nothing pertinent, but age and authority, scowling or morose air lingered on the majority.  

“Those barbarians in the south wouldn’t agree to renew another Agreement Pact with our king - neither of their subordination to Dajin, nor the future extension of our monopoly over their markets; they were particularly unhappy with the current state of their affairs even before the famine at Anshui, we are told. Since this region lies under our jurisdiction, we were to negotiate with them in the coming winter, but no one could have foreseen such a bad turn of events. The famine followed the drought, a plague is at hand, the barricade can only save us only for a while before it becomes an epidemic. Now, we have been informed that we can see some uprising in nearby regions affiliated with the barbarian chief, over the rights of the Almenth plateau which has since the dawn of recorded time, served as our Dajin’s exclusive iron mine. Furthermore," here he looked pertinently at someone at the end of the table with his eagle like sharp eyes, “some young men from capital and Jinghai have added fuel to this raging fire, and the call for a separate recognition of this region has been successfully pushed anew inside the court. The age-old promise of the previous emperors is now being flagged and unearthed to ask for renewed recognition of this region as a separate country of its own; you go and ask them what they desire, more than ever you will hear them utter this common sentiment – the fire clan of the south wants autonomy. As their ancestors had in the past. Many sides to look into, here.” Cough.

With this bristling brisk introduction to current affairs, there was a moment of silence. Lord Wei seemed to be framing the next declaration, as his finger kept tapping rhythmically over the wooden tabletop.  

The court was still in chaos. The king was ill; the crown prince drowning in his own sorrows at the untimely death of his only offspring, the future heir to the crown, had relegated all his duties to others. An untimely nuisance but of a great consequence at present times. While the Dowager Empress Song – a figure of constant disregard inside the court herself – held a heavy title suitable to lead, but having no disposition suitable for that office or courage to set all things right, was finally left to her own comfort despite the urgency of the circumstances.

As such, quite naturally the second prince – the only other adult prince in the current Harem – had to take over the great responsibility of directing the court at such a tense moment of outer and inner unrest in the nation. Although there were many supporters behind him, this sudden shift of power had clearly been abrupt. 

But Lord Wei, as he finished opening the meeting with all affairs explained to keen ears, had a niggling doubt which he did voice in shaded words and allusions – his senses screamed of incongruity, and all incrementing evidence supporting his fancies aligned, he had found that the present of what he saw itself sketched a very different kind of reality. Rather than facing a mutiny of some sort in the south, he feared another kind of unrest coming at them even before that, something that was both out of his hand and completely unstoppable. And, specifically somewhere in the east.

“So, gentlemen, we must not forget the east as we wrestle with the south issue. We have such formidable neighbors like Temeir’s losing their wars at present times there, it’s only right for us to dwell some more on those grounds. With that, let’s begin our meeting – hoping that such great minds as are present with us today, with their keen insights on the raging pulses of the world will serve as bearers of better answers to our current predicament.”

Lord Wei finished with his low voice, never halting in his languid tone. His eyes finally found all the occupants searchingly, trying to glean any recourse, any alternative that hadn’t already sifted through his own mind. He did know a little more than he let on.

In perspective though, if it were the intentions of the Gods above, then what could he, a mortal do? If they desired chaos, they got chaos; and when the battlefields strewn with broken bones and flesh of humankind, and rotting carcasses of once dignified men became an inevitability, Lord Wei could then at least save his conscience of having any heavy pangs by saying, ‘look, they left me nowhere to go. I could have only done that, wouldn't I?!’

A cowardly sentiment, but the times had chiseled out all his rough edges and left him with no impression of his youthful bravery in the face of injustice. And it wouldn't even be the first time that such an incongruous event had been demanded off of him. 

He had sacrificed much; counted more black heads leaving under white sheets from under the glazed tiles of Weijia six-feet under the ground, than he cared to count. He hadn’t let those deep losses stop him, why would the blood of others dyeing his lapel stop him now?

Sometimes, he was pushed to doubt if the Gods he had talked with were actual Gods, not demons themselves impersonating them. Now, there was no doubt left of their being the gods, or rather immortals; he could only mourn that he had met some of the most malevolent kinds. Malevolent spirits, weren’t they like that in old tales?

But those cultivator’s clearly promised them a home in Heaven. The highest glory, the medal that could only be earned by the greatest sage of the times, will fall into their hands! Mother goddesses Heaven…!

Here, though, Lord Wei was aroused from his ponderings by a gentle tap.

“Lord Wei, are you sure that you have guessed it right? That there will be a war in Daxia? Between those mutineers and loyal supporters of the dynasty?” The speaker was a gentle looking man, his beard touching the table surface. “How will it affect us, if say, the last Jing landholdings in Daxia lose their current battles like the Temeir’s had done near their western desert frontier’s? Those Temple affiliates will surely want to enter Dajin by that time through our eastern Turin pass. Are we certain that the battle will not reach our frontiers too soon? Will the mutiny in Daxia settle down before it reaches us in the east?”

‘Did the gods desire the upcoming war between Dajin and Daxia so bad, even at the cost of eventually burning out all their most fanatic devotees in Daxia?’ this question seized their imaginations yet no lips dared to utter this blasphemy. No one even uttered the name of those people who had uprooted the stable old kingdom like Daxia, which had been neighboring them for centuries past, in just a matter of a few years.  

“Unfortunately…I am not.” Lord Wei rubbed his face and then he stood up. He walked up to the window sill, peering through the gray lands. “Yet I dare say, no one of us can be, Master Song. The things of our great Masters are not to be thought of by us mindless human beings, with all our limited human senses. All I can say is that, let’s not rush to any conclusions yet. There is a need for preparations, yes, but let’s steer clear from ‘guessing’ what their intentions are or are not.” There was no clue to be found in this decrepit consoling.

But everyone heard the underlined meaning. ‘If it’s a war that they asked us to wage, what else could they do but prepare?’

Lord Wei didn’t look sardonic, yet his words contained a strange flavor. Yes, it felt like helplessness. Something everyone in the room had been afflicted with once or twice in their small term in the office. Serving Gods was not a piece of cake – they had to shut their eyes and cut their throats a number of times to just appear as decent unthinking slaves as much as they could– while still appearing useful. There was a fine balance to be maintained in their piety. ‘It is nothing short of an art," someone deliberated. 

"True. What a disaster! We can only hope to see Daxia stand its ground if it can.”

“Their nobility might be in shambles but the martial strength should probably hold for a few more years - or are they even past that much? We cannot be certain of their victory, but we can pray for them to hold a while longer. Who would have thought, the mighty lions of deserts, those Temeir would lose?! If we fall like them…Dajin will not only fall to ruins, we would be shouldering millions of blood debts and a fate worse than death!” A weasel like man sported his caricature of a long face, as his mouth drew into a line with muted anger and his haggard sallow skin sagged further into his bones. 

"Guess who has a choice in this matter?” Another one, sitting beside him, couldn't take much of this useless rhetoric. “Neither did we in the past, nor do we now! Why worry about worthless stuff that only fate can decide? We are past the stage where talking about Daxia could have brought us some insight - am I right? It would be better to see if there is any agreement we can reach with those southern barbarians before they break out in struggle in our own frontier. If the war with Daxia is imminent, then a close friction with barbarians will only be a foolhardy expedition at this point... What we don't need at this moment is an additional internal chaos weighing our minds with so much at stake!" Master Fang XueXian refuted while he looked pointedly at his weasel-like friend seated beside him, his hands still busy rotating his rosary bead.

"By lord-! That wasn't what I meant at all! If your glare means to remind me that fear mongering will not bring us anywhere - You are doing me injustice, if you phrase it like that, my lordship. In no way was fear-mongering my purpose by stating risks as facts; what I meant was for all of us to see what our future holds, if we are not careful with our steps - !" here though, he was cut-off from further explanation by another raised voice.

“On a lighter note, the matter of the second prince and your granddaughter…Lord Wei. Congratulations on securing close ties between Jinghai and Imperial City. With this fateful marriage, we can be more confident representing Jinghai, from our side better in the capital. No one can blame us for being abrupt in the court or lackeys of certain well known circle’s. A legitimate connection between in-laws will weigh on our side more. More than any casual links we had forged over the years with all those delegates had done in the past.” Master Song tapped his fingers over the table as he said softly after some recollection. 

There were several humming agreements over this statement. 

“It’s all good and merry till it stifles out like another collapsed marriage we have just recently witnessed.” Master Rong had his head down, as if counting the lines engraved on his palms. “When the Princess of Hunak was sent to Daxia, and married to their crown prince, no one could have imagined that a love affair of such a small woman would boil down to an outright mutiny…Lord Wei, can you assure us that what follows will not be something grimmer than our expectations of more benefit? The second prince is a man of great destiny, he will have more affairs even after this marriage. Loyalty to only one person throughout the matrimony - have you told your granddaughter that she cannot ask for that? Some women will be given as gifts, some earned in wars by her future husband. If your granddaughter turns out to be the kind of Princess of Hunak and seeks help from the Temple–tch.”

He shook his head, tutting at this imagined state of affairs. Many people turned towards him with raised brows. The tale of the forlorn princess of Hunak and her appeal in front of the Temple could be said to be the little spark of fire that had ignited the burning flames of civil war in Daxia. No one was unaware of this famous incident. 

“That is a very foreseeable situation if this holy matrimony doesn’t go as planned. All your children seem averse to happiness of this sort – can we be assured that this child, this granddaughter of yours doesn’t have a mind of her own and is well settled to sacrifice her happiness for the greater good? Because the second prince will never be only her husband but a far greater figure in our history of Dajin, the greatest to ever come!”

As a previous Minister of Royal Affairs, old Master Rong was quite open to voicing his doubts about some eventualities. He was looking gravely at Lord Wei, his hands though, were now clenched under the table. “Not that I am being overly fussy… I assure you of that, I am certainly not. That my concerns lie in the troubles that might arise from any misconduct in this matrimony forged only for benefits, is only natural.