In a richly appointed office in the Golden Mist Ward, Fang Muchen drummed his fingers on his heavy Jade-Ringed Oak desk, his brows furrowed in displeasure at the brief letter before him. For several minutes, the formation expert stewed, his sharpened mind assembling detailed lists of responses and their potential consequences while he waited for his youngest son to join him.
Finally, the door to his office slid open to admit a richly dressed Fang Lin. The young man entered boldly, with a casual air and eagerness to learn how the Su family had responded to their extravagant gifts. Less than three steps into his father's office, however, his footsteps slowed as though he'd run into one of his father's barrier formations. In the corner, the gifts sent to the Su family the day before had been piled like kindling, all of them unopened. The combination of that sight and his father's lowered brow told him everything he needed to know.
"Father, they've rejected us? This little bit of talent from Su Yao has made them bold enough to spit in our face like this?"
"Sit down Lin'er," his father commanded sharply. "It's not that simple. I'm sure Su Jixin wouldn't dare to offend me by returning our gifts, but the tone of his letter is filled with helplessness," he said, scorn dripping from his mouth like venom from the fangs of a snake. "He thanks us for hosting them and the gifts on one hand, and then, with his very next words, 'informs us' that Su Yao has followed one of her senior sisters from the school she attended in joining a sect. By the rules of her new sect, if we wish to discuss betrothal and marriage with her, we'll have to receive approval of her new sect," he spat, crumpling the letter up in his tightly clenched fist.
"That shouldn't be too hard, should it? What kind of third-rate sect wouldn't want an opportunity to have one of their disciples marry into our Fang family?" Fang Lin said, not seeing why his father was so worked up over such a simple matter.
"It's not a third-rate sect," Fang Muchen said, releasing his grip on the letter and flicking the balled-up missive to his son. "Do you think someone with enough talent to alarm us would settle for one of the third-rate sects of the Outer Wards? She's joined the Bamboo Silk House. If we still want to secure an engagement for you, we'll have to play by their rules and your new bride won't come cheaply."
"So what do we do Father?" Fang Lin asked, taking the crumpled letter and placing it in a pocket for later. "Not only does Su Yao have the potential to reach the Inner City on her own merits, but she's also a connection to Aesthete Wu and the Master Alchemist supporting him. Are we just going to give up on securing a relationship with them?"
"When has our family ever let go of something we've decided we want to possess?" Fang Muchen said, scowling at his son. "I'll continue in talks with the Bamboo Silk House but in the meantime, didn't you say that Aesthete Wu was known for painting portraits of young women? Invite him to paint a portrait of Lu'er. Tell her that once he's finished painting, she's to present the portrait directly to him, she should know what to say to flatter him."
"You intend to match Sister Lu to Wu Ling? But she's been pursuing my friend Fan Chaoyang for the past year, her heart is…"
"Her heart is irrelevant," Fang Muchen interrupted. "If she'd managed to catch Young Lord Fan's attention even once, I might indulge her, but that young man has no room in his heart for anything but cultivation and the sword. It's time that your sister wakes up to that reality and finds a partner that will advance the family's interests. I've humored her long enough. You tell her I said that and if she protests, tell her that I'll settle her personally."
"I understand, Father," Fang Lin said, standing up and bowing deeply to his father. As in all things, the world would move according to his father's arrangements. The consequences, should anything not follow his father's arrangements, weren't ones that Fang Lin cared to contemplate.
***
Beyond the walls that separated the Outer City from the Inner City, Liang Xiong wove his way between the grand halls and palaces of the Inner Sect of the Purple Thunder War Hall. If this were one of the Outer Sect branches in the Outer City, nearly every disciple would have bowed to Liang Xiong has he passed, their voices suppressed to a mere whisper as the powerful Soldier passed by.
Here within the Inner Sect, however, only the young children of Elders and Inner Disciples would call Liang Xiong 'Senior Brother Liang,' and most of them felt that they weren't long off from being his equal. Thankfully, he hadn't spent enough time outside of the sect for his ego to grow so large that he couldn't fit his head between the buildings of the Inner Sect now that he had returned to a place where Soldiers were as common as leaves on a tree.
Finally, after a long stroll to the parts of the sect that were the furthest from the training grounds and dormitories, Liang Xiong turned down a path between buildings that clamored with the din of hammers on anvils, grinding wheels scraping against stone and the dozens of other sounds of the Armory Block within the sect. Here, even the normally crisp, clean air of the Inner City couldn't help but become thick with smoke and dust as the Artists of the Purple Thunder War Hall forged and repaired the armor and weapons needed by the disciples of the sect when they ventured out on campaigns.
Different from many of the workshops along the Armory Block, the one Liang Xiong approached was not only quieter, but the work it displayed blurred the line between armor and jewelry. Several delicate cuffs, gorgets and other decorative pieces had been set out on display while a silver haired woman with large spectacles hammered away at a piece on her workbench with an engraver's chisel.
"Be still for ten breaths," the woman said when Liang Xiong's boots crossed the entrance of her workshop. Bright sliver energy sparked with each strike of her hammer as she finished the graceful curve she'd been in the middle of when the young Soldier entered. The work wasn't complete, that would take several more hours of delicate work, but she could reasonably pause while she attended to the disciple's needs.
"So," the silver-haired woman said once she got a look at the very young disciple standing before her. "Tell me about the woman you wish to court."
"Armorer Dian," Liang Xiong said, bowing deeply toward the Exceptional Artist whose work he'd interrupted. "Am I so transparent that you can already see my intentions?"
"I don't need to be an Artist to guess your intentions," the armorer said with a musical laugh. "You're the right age to be courting, and you're not one of the wealthy scions of a Grand Elder who refuses to wear practical armor in the field. Plus, your campaign bead is so new and shiny, it still carries a hint of my aura from when I carved it. I doubt you'd seek me out for yourself, so that only leaves a woman whose attention you're hoping to attract."
"Well, it's as you say," Liang Xiong admitted. "Her name is Wu Ling, and she's an Aesthete on the verge of becoming an Understudy at less than eighteen years of age," he explained. "She practices a form of artistry that's applicable in battle and she protected my elder sister on an expedition in the mountains. I thought, for an artist who dares to risk her own life to defend others, my gift couldn't be simple."
"So you came to me in the hopes of securing a defensive armament," the silver-haired woman said with a nod. "I won't be able to begin work until midsummer at the earliest, and the contribution points I will charge you for this task will be much greater than what you can earn in a single campaign," she said, giving the young man an intense look. "You should go to one of the Understudies for what you need."
"If I give her the work of an Understudy," Liang Xiong began. "I'm only giving her something she could soon make for herself. It has to be an exceptional piece and that means obtaining the services of an Exceptional Artist."
"This girl means that much to you? Well, if that's the case, I won't stop you," the armorer said, standing from her workbench to give Liang Xiong a more thorough examination. "You can't afford to pay me in contribution points, but there are materials I need that are difficult to purchase in the city. I could use a portion of them to make a gift for the object of your affection. Tell me young man," the silver-haired woman said with a glint in her eyes. "Are you willing to take risks to obtain the gift you want for this woman?"
Dropping to one knee, Liang Xiong saluted the armorer and bowed his head in gratitude and respect.
"Armorer Dian, this Soldier is not afraid of danger. Tell me what you require and I'll deliver it to you directly," he promised.