Threads 222-Family 2

Renxiang’s hand moved toward the bell as Cai Tienli cried.

“Cai Renxiang, do you want a sister?”

Her liege didn’t answer, but she also didn’t touch the bell. In the absence of heated voices, the baby’s cries began to die down as well.

“Do you know what the root of corruption is, Ling Qi?”

“Greed, I suppose.” Ling Qi crossed her arms. She had an inkling of what was going to be said.

“Avarice plays its part.” Cai Renxiang lowered her hand into the crib, and the baby grasped at her fingers, the last of her cries trailing off into gurgling curiosity. “But no, family is the root of corruption. A man pays an examiner to grade his son kindly. A woman speaks to her sister in the Ministry of Law and has a child’s indiscretion swept under the rug. A man and his brother look out for one another and quash all competition for their positions. For some, it is pure greed. But for most, it is the desire to put their family ahead.”

Ling Qi frowned, stepping up beside her liege. “Is that truly corruption though? That’s just people working as they do. Of course you want to help people you care about.”

Her breath caught in her throat as she caught a flash of light out of the corner of her eye like a knife blade ghosting against her throat. The ringing chimes turned, innocently glittering in the dim light.

“It is, and that is the reason why corruption can never be truly stamped out. You may cut the branches, fell the trunk, and burn the leaves, but the root remains. It begins with little things, but it grows and grows. This is, I think you are right to say, being human. One who aspires to rule cannot have this. To rule with such personal biases is an abrogation of the responsibilities of my position.”

Ling Qi changed tacks. “The Scholar Kong often compares the ruler to the head of household; their responsibilities and duties are much the same. Reciprocal obligation is the root of good rulership, as much as personal virtue.”

For a moment, her liege actually smiled. It was a thin, brief thing. “Your memorization has improved, Ling Qi. But I do not think the scholar’s words make your point. In your conception, his wisdom is most certainly designed around what you call clan.”

“You can find wisdom in a work even if you don’t agree with the author.” Ling Qi huffed.

“What is the obligation of a sibling, Ling Qi, in your own words?” Cai Renxiang asked.

“You offer them affection, tutelage, and protection,” Ling Qi said, thinking of Biyu. “You help them avoid your own troubles.”

Cai Renxiang watched the baby in the crib. “I am known as cold and impersonal, and my duties will demand distance and travel. What affection can I offer? I am a mere young mistress, whatever my title. What tutelage can I, who can not even fully comprehend Mother’s arts, give which would exceed what my mother will arrange?” She paused, and then continued before Ling Qi could respond. “And of the things which could threaten a daughter of the Cai, what protection can I offer?”

Ling Qi swallowed. Whatever she was going to say was silenced by those whisper quiet words. Her mind filled with a child screaming and eyes of glass in an artificial face, so unsettling like her liege’s. She had no retort. None that would not stick in her own throat as a lie.

“You are not cold. And I do not think distance is truly so great an obstacle.”

Cai Renxiang didn’t answer.

“Renxiang,” Ling Qi continued insistently, “you haven’t answered my question.”

“I do not know, Ling Qi. I do not even know how to evaluate that question. It is irrelevant. What I want cannot be what I do. The Emerald Seas is more important than Cai Renxiang. That is what it means to rule well. I cannot act against that.”

Ling Qi felt a twinge of sadness. “I advised you once before that you do no one any good if you break yourself.”

“And I have heard you, my advisor,” Cai Renxiang said, straightening up. Her fingers escaped the baby’s grasp. “But I will not stumble over the line from maintenance into indulgence. I understand and accept your point of view, but the responsibility I have been born to and that Tienli has been born to is heavier than what you bear, even now.”

Renxiang spoke with poise and conviction, but Ling Qi was not fooled. She was hurting herself, even if she was wholly sincere.

Cai Renxiang backed up a step from the crib and formally bowed her head. “Your elder sister greets you, Cai Tienli. May you bring much pride to the Cai clan in the future.”

Cai Tienli let out a wet hiccup, her head turning to follow Cai Renxiang with an infant’s incomprehension.

“Come, Ling Qi. I have done my duty.” Cai Renxiang swept past her toward the door.

“Yes, Lady Cai.”

***

The rail under her forearms was warm, heated by the formations. The noise of the tournament grounds was a buffer against her thoughts.

The rest of the previous evening had been spent in a whirlwind of minor meetings and politicking, supporting her liege as they worked to drum up more than lukewarm acceptance of their task. It had felt more tiring than usual, mostly because of the question in the back of her thoughts.

Where did one stand when they knew they couldn’t fulfill their duty to their family?

She winced as a body went sprawling in the tournament grounds below. Gun Jun had been knocked from his feet for the eighth time. Lu Feng tossed him about like a child, and there was little he could do. Even Ling Qi felt some sympathy as the young man rose shakily to his feet despite the obvious tremors. She suspected he had fractured something on that last throw.

“He should yield,” Lao Keung said from beside her. “There is no honor in hurling yourself face first into a wall.”

“I do not know about that. In battle, certainly, but this is a tournament. Showing persistence has its virtues.”

“Showing pride.” The young man beside her snorted.

“Pride is the luxury of the strong. But who is it who wishes to admit being weak?”

“A living man,” Lao Keung retorted.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“I admit some sympathy to both points,” Bai Meizhen interjected from the seating behind them. “It is somewhat distasteful to give the Sun so much opportunity to gloat, but to admit loss is difficult.”

“But unavoidable in the end,” Cai Renxiang concluded.

There was a thunderous crash from the arena. Lu Feng had grown bored and finished the match with a single strike, sending Gan Guangli’s friend crashing through the trunks of the trees they had been battling amidst with a contemptuous flick of his wrist. It made the whole battle more sour that he likely could have done so at any time instead of toying with the younger disciple.

“I, for one, admire his resilience,” Xia Anxi said, casting a careful look at Meizhen. “As the lady says, pride is not something to be so easily cast aside.”

Lao Keung grunted.

Below, the false environment dissolved, and Lu Feng bowed toward the crowds, or rather, the box where Sun Liling and the other visitors from the Western Territories were seated. Leaving the arena, he passed Gan Guangli. There was an exchange, but Ling Qi couldn’t hear it.

“The next match is your peer against the girl from the ruined clan, isn’t it?” Lao Keung asked.

“Yes. Chu Song. I faced her myself last year.”