Born a Monster

“Little Monitor, if you move quickly, you can cook breakfast for us.” Kang Shi said.

I mumbled something noncommittal.

“Oh look.” She said. “I have a nice shiny sergeant’s badge. I’ll bet it will reflect light... right... about...”

“I’m up, I’m up.” I said. “I suppose I can do breakfast. I’ll need to leave after that, though.”

“You’ll need to stay after that, Little Monitor. Captain Feng has an announcement regarding this new spy duty.”

“Why does any of that need to be announced?”

She shrugged. “Seems some people are curious about who made the detail, and which of us are here setting out bear traps on the roof.”

.....

“Bear traps?” I asked.

“After breakfast. Get you armor on, you’ll need to wear it to the morning formation.”

“On the roof?”

She nodded. “On the roof.”

Someone had started the rice (there was almost always rice), cracked five of two dozen eggs into a pan, lit both ovens, set out some limes on the cutting board, and then just left. The spice rack was in clear need of a restock, and the cookware must have been cleaned at night.

I sighed. I had done more with less, and I was too young to just give up.

Dirty cooking pan, dirty cooking pan, and... was that chicken broth? I sniffed it. Duck broth. Using a spoon to keep at least SOME of the rice inside the pot, I poured out portions of boiling water into the pans, replaced it with the broth.

It wasn’t enough to majorly change the taste, but it was a far cry better than water.

I gave both pans a quick scrub, but didn’t have time for more. Because, eggs.

Servants came through, dropping off celery, flour, a pot of live crayfish (don’t ask; I’ve no clue where they got those), and other ingredients. I passed my reticule over each of them, surprised that I knew some of their names. The others remained [Soldier] or [Servant].

The reticule displayed in blue for the soldiers, and yellow for the servants.

It had other uses as well; I removed some clumps of mold from the flour when nobody was looking. It was mildly poisonous, but more disturbing was the fact that it wasn’t the type of mold that fed on flour.

More work by the Nine, I guessed.

I had to chop cabbage instead of lettuce, and it came to me unwashed. That seemed to be negligence rather than malice, though.

I didn’t get everything clean before morning formation, but it was marginally better than I’d found it.

Captain Feng liked his briefings on the roof, or as he called it, in the open air. His dentistry was superior; if I hadn’t known what to look for, I wouldn’t have noticed the difference in his teeth.

“We have all done well.” He began. “Against one of the genuine heroes of the world, we have held. More than this, our adversary has been wounded. Perhaps not as grievously as we might like, but I am certain victory SHALL be ours. And yet, even now, there are those at work inside our walls. Liars and sneaks, dishonorable saboteurs! The following people are to report to the noble Xho Pien at the inn nearest the Fifth Support Company headquarters:”

“Fifth spear sergeant Gun Nong?”

“Ready to serve, captain!”

“You get Sister Yoshi to tell me that or you’re still on bed rest.”

“I can confirm, captain.” Kang Shi said, “His condition has moved to light barracks duty.”

“Third chi specialist Wa Fenya.”

“Ready to serve, captain!” she shouted.

“And first archer Hoo Long.”

“Ready to serve, captain!”

“You three are on detached duty. For the next few days, you will take your orders from Xho Pien. He is now your officer. Wa Fenya, as the ranking soldier, you have field sergeant duties. Are you trained and ready?”

“All three quills, sir!”

“Outstanding. Move out now, Blue Boar Inn. You must report no later than noon. Dismissed.”

“It has come to my attention that some of you think bed rest is optional.”

Several low chuckles circulated through the squad or so of us left.

Wait, it WASN’T optional?

Crap.

How much trouble was I in now?

“All personnel on bed rest MUST get approval from Sister Yoshi. In writing. BEFORE. BEFORE. BEFORE.” He stomped his foot for emphasis. “Before doing ANYTHING ELSE. Except bathing. For obvious reasons. Check the duty roster; just because we haven’t seen our enemy on his feet doesn’t mean he isn’t coming tonight. Eternal vigilance.”

“Eternal vigilance, sir!” the squad responded. I was about half a breath behind them.

“Good, good. There is one more thing; the ground sergeant requests that nobody steal Little Monitor’s shoes, now that he has a pair. Are there any questions?”

“Sir, when can we expect another lieutenant to replace Leng Li?” Kang Shi asked.

“When I know that, I will speak of it. Anything else?” He nodded twice. “Return to your assigned duties. Tie Little Monitor to his bed if you must. Dismissed.”

“Don’t worry, Little Monitor.” Kang Shi winked at me. “I’m tying you to the stove. Time to start lunch preparations, after all.”

# Narrator: Wa Fenya

Let nobody say that chi cultivation is easy, for few things are further from the truth. It is like kneading bread dough while spinning it in a circle and performing the steps of the dance to honor the enshrined ancestral spirits.

But because of that, and thus a proven ability to multi-task, I had always known that I was in the line for sergeant. And other ranks after that, of course, each one requiring even more paperwork. It is said that an army travels on its stomach, but I know better; that stomach drags itself along on top of as much paperwork as possible.

Therefore, I had an inkwell, and four of the required three quills. My workbook was customized to me, just wide enough to rest against the inside of my elbow with the other side aligned with the first joints of my fingers. It was exactly twice that tall, to aid in balance when open. The wooden binding, with just a kiss of chi, would draw water around the pages into itself.

I know, not as impressive as anything the Book Heroine has done, but I felt properly equipped for my duties. Not that I expected heavy documentation; Hoo Long is too sneaky to get caught, and Gun Nong’s character was beyond reproach.

His body, I admit, had me worried. He crouched forward as he walked, and leaned perhaps too heavily on his spear. But the flows of his chi were ... okay, you know what? They’re just men. They try so hard to be the equal of us, and I’m not going to say anything against Gun Nong’s motivation, character, or strength of will.

His body, though, had me worried.

“Ugh, we’ll be late if we keep resting like this.” Hoo Long complained.

“Would you rather run ahead and report that we are on our way? Perhaps order tea for all of us? Green, if they have it. Black last.”

“Wait. That means running.”

“Yes, running ahead does mean running.”

“Come on, Gun Nong. Make use of my shoulder. If we have to walk, I might as well... Whoa... How much nutrition do you EAT each day, to maintain a heavy frame like that?”

While the two of them settled into the rituals of male bonding, I went over what little training I had. It was more along the lines of determining if the soldier next to me were considering suicide, but...

No, I will not paint it over with enamel; I was a combat cultivator, like my mother and grandmother before me. The sort of perceptions the cultivators of legend had were beyond me. I wouldn’t be looking at a room-full of people and see the evil aura of our enemies.

Or if I did, I’d be checking for a chi illusion first; most professional spies are harder to read by chi methods, not easier.

The Blue Boar, when we got there, was clean and cool, a breeze curling through the kitchen and carrying the smells of fresh bread into the dining area, then out into the street. I had no doubt that it was intended that way deliberately, however natural the breeze was.

“Ah-ah. We are almost late, and there is no trace of our noble!” Hoo Long said.

“Right there.” Gon Nung said.

I restored my smile, temporarily knocked out of place. Yes, Pien is one of those names that CAN be given to a male, but I had hoped for another woman. Ah, well. We make do with what the heavens give us, not what we wish they had.

“I agree.” I waved a hand. “Honored sir, we are prepared to receive instructions.”

“W-What? ME? I am just the bus-boy.” The young lord stuttered.

“No, so sorry. Your inner clothes are fine silk, and recently washed, and that shade of almond does NOT go with that color of outer wear. I would guess an emerald green, or perhaps navy blue.”

There was a wavering of magic (not of chi, which I would have sensed immediately), and the young boy became someone much older.

“Ah, excellent, I knew Captain Feng’s soldiers would not disappoint.” Xho Pien said.