#wuju reporter

[arewedoneyet]

via studio_onsaturn @ twitter | 23082023

[micuko]

[purplehanfu]

Snowy Night Timeless Love: Ep 1-5

notes: Spoilers! If even one person enjoys the joke, my efforts will not have been in vain. Master list of all recaps

(Knocks on the door to Apothecary Valley, the preeminent medical facility of the jianghu)

"Hello, yes, you must be Xue Ziye, the Valley Master."

"Me? I'm a site surveyor from the Joint Commission - JCAHO. Yes I do have a Fate Reversal Token but that is something we definitely need to discuss because jade tokens cannot be considered a prerequisite to medical treatment."

"Don't close that giant door- let me in!"

"Thank you for eventually letting me in since you are legally required to do so. I've made my preliminary assessment and I do have some questions. Who is this pharmaceutical rep that I see running around everywhere? He says his name is Huo Zhanbai."

"He also says that he's the 7th disciple of the Celestial Alp Sword Sect but I just see someone who's not a PharmD procuring unregulated medicine."

"I know there are shortages, but you can't just pluck fungus out of a tomb and call it a day.

I see, he's collecting five precious medicinal ingredients to save the child of his sworn brother and junior sister?"

"Some of the nurses told me Huo Zhanbai actually had a thing for his junior sister Qui Shuiyin and that Huo Zhanbai was the one who killed his sworn brother because he was trying to defect to an evil sect- that's some good gossip. So good I might let it slide that I also noticed that there were open beverage containers at the nurses' station. Just kidding, I'll have to report that."

"Who is the guy frozen in ice out on the lake?"

"Oh that's your first love who sacrificed himself to save you Titanic style and now you're obsessed with reviving him?"

"I know he's technically neither dead nor alive, Valley Master Xue, but I don't see him listed on the census as a patient."

"The only positive thing I can say so far is that your staff to patient ratios are excellent, well within ANA standards. Your use of restraints is questionable though."

"But everything else, well, I'll be honest- there are a lot of violations that will require regulatory action. Wait- why are you coming over here with that knife?"

"Valley Master Xue, stop right there! I still have to give my report on your National Patient Safety Goal compliance… Put that dagger down!! Why are you stabbing me in the shoulder? Who even does that? Oh no- poison!!! ARGGHHH! "

(dies)

Bonus: Good Looking Bad Guys

Eye

Miao Feng

Miao Shui

They all belong to Yuan Li Palace, and their leader Chang Wujue is also looking for the special ingredients to aid his cultivation. Chang Wujue is over-the-top, his motivations make no sense and I love his very extra lifestyle.

It's just so nice to see a bad guy living in a greenhouse full of flowers instead of the usual dank and dark aesthetic.

Time to Get Catty

Do we think Zeng Shunxi had buccal fat removal?

master list of all recaps

[absolutebl]

Reporting in from the live BoC 2023 lineup show!

So we have….

1. The Hidden Character - reality show with new actors where the public gets to watch and decide who is paired together in a future series

2. Wuju Bakery - Jeff/Barcode series - will be filmed South Korea in the Summer - Jeff plays an alien who visits a bakery where Barcode works! They both looked beautiful in the teaser. Pond said it’s a comedy

3. 4 Minutes - Bible/Build series - original story written by Sammon (Manner of Death/Triage) especially for them… described as a ‘bitter’ drama. When asked if there are many love scenes, Bible said yes! It’s planned for the 4th quarter of the year

4. Man Suang - Mile/Apo movie - historical drama about Thai dancers. Tong is in this one too! Coming to cinemas in August

Wonderful! You're doing this so I don't have to!!!!

Thank you thank you.

Wuju Bakery sounds like previously reported for 2022:

Space Bakery from Silkwood?

Checks MDL, ah yes it is! That must now be a co production. Interesting decision.

About a spaceship that crash-lands into and destroys a bakery shop. Of course this means the alien and the baker end up living together. At the same time, other aliens-in-hiding all around the city start hunting for them. One of my most anticipated BLs. It sounds SO WEIRD.

I like the weird concept of Wuju Bakery but I don't love Jeff & Barcode's chemistry and Korea fubs Thai chemistry anyway, plus Silkwood can't be trusted with endings (Peach of Time)

4 Minutes. That "bitter" has me scared.

Man Suang. This one, the Mile & Apo one, interests me the most. Historical is GOOD.

I can't find anything listed for that first one but also, meh. No thank you.

 - BL Spreadsheet of Doom now updated.

[yi-dashi]

//I want to say Yi had very particular tastes in fashion and self presentation before the war, and it’s not something he has especially grown out of in his middle age. I throw around the word vanity in my own mind, but I don’t think he did it all for the sake of pride. Pride in himself is a part of it, as Yi’s ego can still get the better of him even today, but it was more a result of wanting to stand out in an otherwise homogeneous culture at any cost.

  He loved the outside world. He loved talking to traders who had apparently traveled broadly. He had access, or so I figure, to clothes and textiles from other places. You bet he was going to go around dressing in trailing robes, flowing ribbons, with hair adornments and nail polish. He was already considered mysterious and talented before any addition to aesthetics. I can totally see Yi leaning right into the presentation of a Master Sword-Poet before his time.

  It also wouldn’t have come as a surprise to anyone when Yi had dissenting opinions on the war, though it probably did surprise people that Yi acted on these opinions. Other people definitely saw him as vain and frivolous. Despite all his tastes, he was more than happy to drop it all in the pursuit of a worthy cause. Without the strict societal structure, he didn’t have any use for his theatrics outside of Wuju.

   He still considers himself at war today, which means he hasn’t rebounded from the idea that personally fulfilling aesthetics are useless. He’s also developed a different alter ego to present outwardly these days, which lends itself to some other problems. If he ever falls back into some sort of normalcy, his tastes in clothing, and other accessories, might fall in a middle ground between the Wuju norm as seen in Poetry with a Blade, and his past extravagance.

[mr-nauseam]

Profesores culeros, espero que te de tiempo para terminar todo y no te estrese de más :(

¿Deseas que revise tus fanfics de manera crítica? Creo que podría, escribir punto por punto. Me tomaría tiempo, eso sí. He leído algunos y me llevan gustando pero no he dicho mucho. Quizá envié un reporte pronto jaja

Te contaré una historia:

Cuando era más nueva en esto de leer fanfics sentía algo feo. Claramente un remix entre favoritismo juntado con hipocresía cuando Sherlock tenía múltiples parejas muy activas o coquetea con otros (incluso sin estar en una relación con Watson)

Sentía una espinita, sabía que era mala y me hacía sentir horrible.

Así que, después de catalogar ese sentimiento como molesto y estúpido lo intente controlar y hacer razonar mi mente, puesto que no es justo juzgar al Holmes que no hizo nada malo además de querer vivir su vida (en el fanfic)

Es algo que he visto en mucha gente y hay algunos que defienden sentirse así y no intentar cambiarlo ¿Te has sentido así alguna vez?

Es difícil adaptarse cuando se aleja mucho de tu imagen, creo que eso que dices es solo soportable para ti cuando es un fanfic crack (?)

En cuanto al país: caliente. ~Caliente~

El Watson husbando de todos, objetivo de vida de muchas y representación del deseo de ser amado a pesar de sentirnos muchas veces tan imperfectos y detestables como Holmes (?)

Holmes mi patrón lol

Tiene sus cosas buenas, su encanto, su porte, su pose, su lote.

Lo único es que en las series o películas no hacen uso de sus características claramente metrosexuales ah

Decepcionada ando con estos productores

-Sungroth + W (si amigos sabes ser, dicha habrá en tu vida 💛 🎶)

Allí ando. ¡Hoy explotare porque para el jueves se entrega todo! Jajsbahs AUXILIOOO. ¿Y tú Sun, cómo vas? Espero mucho mejor que yo. :(

Ay 😳👉👈 pues si me gustaría... Apreciaría mucho lo que tengas que decirme Sun sobre mis fics feos y sería genial si pudiera ver tu reporte pronto jsjsjajaja

Re intenso el asunto. 👁👄👁

Creo que no jsjsja o sea las únicas veces que me pasa eso de molestarme con el personaje y sus acciones de una forma similar a la que dices es cuando ando leyendo algo re toxico con Mary y me la paso mentando madres. Tipo que hacen Watson jamás la quisiera y la trate mal o le sea infiel, que Holmes sea grosero, etc.

Allí si me quejo pero siento tiene su razón de ser porque el personaje tiene actitudes inadecuadas y la verdad luego de un rato se me pasa, especialmente si en la historia pues recapacitan.

Lo que sí cuando he leído fics que se alejan de mi visión es cierto tengo cierta incomodidad al inicio pero conforme leo y si la historia es buena lo acepto. Tipo luego de un rato ando riendome o hasta me saco ideas en base a esos temas. 😂

Aunque sí hay cosas que cuando me chocan demasiado lo dejo en crack fic único y bye bye. Creo que saber que nos gusta y nos disgusta leer es importante; tenemos la opción de elegir y buscar contenido que se adapte a nosotros, sin embargo, también creo que eso de sentir cierto enojo irracional hacia x personaje por razones inofensivas no es muy sano, así que aplaudo tu decisión.

:) Incluso si alguien quisiera seguir sintiéndolo. No esta mal, es libre de hacerlo pero yo creo que cuando es asi eso que se piensa nunca se debe externar al trabajo ni al creador. Quejarse con los compis está bien pero es distinto el asunto.

(Yo remarcó este punto porque he visto que la gente que no lo corrige luego anda de hater 🙄con el autor del fic y con la obra. No esta mal decir que te disgusta algo por muy meh que sea pero decirlo con amigos a decirlo de forma intensa y grosera en la plataforma mmm pero eso solo lo hace la gente ociosa asi que nada de que preocuparnos tú y yo amix. We are decent people).

Wuju ya no me congelo: ¿Ecuador?, ¿Venezuela?

Te salió re poético pero sí. Por eso amamos a Watson. Nuestro patrón. 🛐❤❤ En general el watsolmes es muy hermoso ahhh.

😠 AHHHH SÍ. La verdad no lo retratan bien. Si Holmes bonito claramente tiene una rutina super complicada de cuidado de la piel (? Yo quiero verlo en una adaptación con el clásico mascarilla y pepinos en los ojos. Jsjsjs ay no, recorde un fic donde Holmes estrena un perfume pero alguna vez has conocido a una nena que usa un perfume que huele a vainilla y es re potente? Pues Holmes usa uno asi. Jsjsjs y Watson llega y esta de AAAA MI NARIZ. Me dio diabetes de olerlo. Y anda buscando qué huele así. SH claramente no cree que sea su perfume, si huele bonito asi que le dice que a lo mejor eso feo es un perfume de la señora Hudson.

Entonces Watson se acerca a Holmes y le dice ¡ERES TÚ! Jsjsjsja y Holmes lo niega y le acusa de tener mal gusto. Ayyy

Ni siquiera verás a quien das tu amistad, si amigo sabes ser ~

¿si es de la peli esa toda bonita del zorro y el sabueso? ❤😭

[yi-dashi-a]

//P-P-P-P-Post DnD drabbles? I suppose it is also a public transport drabble by extension. Yi parents fluff, the ‘it took me a long time to write this while i wrote all the events that came after instead’ edition.The incident that basically is lowkey responsible for Wuju’s death is entailed next time though! I am excite to post it, since it’s literally already written.

  For now, this. If you lack some context, as always check out the hobby project tag pft

Her roof had never felt so mottled with noticeable detail, but she figured that’s what happened when you stared at something for so long. She’d long gotten past the point of replaying the situation in her mind. Now she was just staring, hoping that sense would come if she just thought on it hard enough.

“Idiot…” the Mage found herself mumbling to the fixtures that lay over her head, “Idiot, idiot, idiot…”

Was she talking about him, or herself? It must have been her, because after all this consideration she didn’t have it in her heart to think of him poorly. Even if he’d near been unfaithful, though under other circumstances she might not have cared if he’d spirited off with another woman. He could have handled it all better, yet she knew him to be just a sad, human man with a weight tied to the scars of his back.

“He’d die before anything else…” She said to the wooden struts, “Why? There are other ways.”

The thought of someone being so low, so without hope, was almost something that started her tears up again. She couldn’t picture him in her mind like that. He was happy here. She was happy when he was here. Was it all a lie, then? Was she not as good at reading his features as she thought? She rolled over into her bedding, growing tired of the roof judging her. It all went around and around in circles in her mind, because she knew she was merely avoiding the questions that mattered.

He’s asking me to go with him. Are his ideas even sound?

But then she frowned. It wasn’t about him; the sad, stupid man. It was about her. She reconsidered the question.

Do I want to go with him, or do I not? Do I trust him when he tells me this is a cause worth dying for, or don’t I?

Of course it was still centered around the man, but it at least gave her some pause in her headache to rephrase things. Was it worth it for her? Was it worth it to pack up for a week or so and run off with the man? That then, almost in a way that surprised her, rephrased the question again.

How much is he worth to me? How much would my life suffer if he wasn’t here? if I did not disrupt my life for just a week or so?

She was so selfish and naive, or so she screamed at herself in that moment, but it was almost as if she had to be to get through this. The roof’s critical stare was back upon her once more, chastising her for her glassy eyes and pained expression. To think this was all but a consideration of worth, beyond all these emotions that boiled under her skin. He had asked for her arm and her leg.

Was it worth it to give it to him?

“He… is worth… everything.” She choked out the words, the woman who had left him just hours before now also in protest to her conclusions, “He is… just human, and I would suffer. I’d suffer more than now. I can scream at him when he’s safe.”

But as simply as answers came, so simply did the implications compound. The word everything was as intense as it was all encompassing, and she believed it without a doubt. Everything. She’d only barely tasted the woe that would wrack her form at the thought of him being stolen from her, and it was more bitter than she could stomach. She’d taken for granted everything, or so she’d tell herself as she flew about her quarters, almost tripping against wobbly legs.

It was a frenzy of different goals at play in her mind, and she was hardly present to complete them. But she’d made her mind up. She was changing clothes, wearing layers to transport them on her person. She was penning a letter without even realizing what she was scribbling to parchment. Something about the direness of the situation, how people would die without action, and how someone should investigate if she wasn’t back after a week or two.

Perhaps something about keeping her position as a mystic too, though it was but a postscript note. No one here had ever made an attempt to make the questions she’d answered difficult anyway. Not at least in a way she respected. Perhaps there were children to consider, but they weren’t exactly her friends. Truly she had made up her mind.

“And if he is not worth… everything.” She hissed through her strain to stay her weeping, “… I’ll know it after this ordeal. I’ll learn something of me. This is about me.”

She’d say it, though she wondered how much of it she’d believe. It wasn’t to matter though. She was already flying away from the school, not thinking to even pay it one last look or care.

As her adrenaline from her epiphany wore off however, she almost felt embarrassed for her previous night’s self as she approached the place the Wuju Master was staying. The lodging was clearly much more… derelict in the light of the day than it was under moonlight. And she’d spent the night crying, making love, and screaming within its overly rustic logs? She made an effort not to dwell on that too long, especially when she noted a familiar tanned arm hanging out a window with broken slats. In his hand was a long sort of pipe, and a puff of smoke exited from an unseen mouth.

“… I didn’t know you smoked, Chao.” She said, trying to offer it like a joke. She had to at least make it a joke to her. Suddenly she was thinking about all the millions of things she didn’t know about the man. To her surprise there was no jolt or reaction from his part though. He just seemed to poke his eyes out of the broken window, and on his sigh another puff exited his lips.

“Only when I need to calm down.” He replied softly, “Or when I feel like I have nothing to lose.”

“Nothing mind altering, I hope?”

“Oh no.” He managed to huff a laugh, “I am certainly not my great grandfather. My mind does not stomach the likes of poppies well. People report ghostly activities if I indulge. Never again after the first time. I make the effort to invest in things that are worse for me from across the sea. Tobacco, they call it. It’s the one comfort I am tolerated…”

“Well…” She all but bit through her lip, “I’m coming inside, regardless of what you are smoking.”

So she bustled along, past the keeper of the house who grumbled something at her about missing gemstones. She cared so little for his easily exploitable ways, and beyond a thick curtain she found the one who had stained permanent rashes down her cheeks. He’d made an effort to don undergarments at least, but his robes were still strewn upon the floor. The only source of light was through the window he basically hung out of, which made for an interesting effect when the embers of his pipe would catch any dimly lit part of his bare chest.

“… How are you, Chao?” Was the only thing she could conjure to open with, “Are you feeling any better?”

“How are you is the question that should be asked…” He mumbled out the window, “How I am isn’t the issue. I assume you don’t smoke, but…” So offhandedly did he offer her his pipe, though she immediately rose a hand and shook her head, “… Yes. I thought so. This is expensive, anyway. Not that I’m not of a mind to share.”

“… I think I’m okay though, thank you.” She replied, cocking her head to one side, “Though… please answer my questions too.”

“I don’t know, Huan.” He let out his latest breath of poison in the room as he turned to her, almost exclusively exhaling through his nose, “I’m not sure what happens after you tell your beloved you are to kill yourself without their help. That was a wholly unfair pronouncement on my part, not even considering all the other things I’ve said and done...”

“It’s only unfair if it wasn’t true, Chao.” She inched closer to him, as if she expected him to bite her from the other side of the room, “Though I would take that unfairness so long as it meant a soul wasn’t going to leave for the Stars.”

“It…” He paused, and she almost wanted to snap that dumb pipe in two for the amount of time he spent focused on it, “… It’s only true when I talk about it, if that makes sense. Only true when it enters my mind. I’d like to think I’m better than that… but I haven’t lied. I’m scared, confused, and you’ve heard my only idea.”

“I have, and…”

“And..?”

Was it spiteful that she left him hanging on a breath? That she waited to splutter on his pipe after he held it in for too long? Maybe it was doubt, despite all the thoughts she’d put into all this? No. It had to be just nerves.

I am scared and confused too.

“If you expect me to go anywhere with you as you are...” She began, bringing herself to his side, “... I will not be the kidnapped bride of a man with no robes.”

“Huan—” He wanted to jump into her embrace, but she made herself inaccessible to him with a firm hand on his chest. This time he was at least quick to take the gesture to heart, and his muscles notably laxed under her palm, “… Thank you. Thank you for even hearing me on this stupid idea.”

“If it’s a stupid idea, then I want no part in it.”

“W-Wait! No. I—”

“—Just collect yourself, Chao. Do so before I change my mind.”

“Okay.” Another quick puff, for good measure it seemed, “… By rite, this should work. Wuju Masters are old people. My Master is over three-hundred years old. If anyone respects old rites, then it will be he and those around him he has fostered in a village stuck in time. All I need to do is present you rightly, as if I’d kidnapped you from your home, and then… I am saved, and you can go home.”

“It surely cannot be this easy.” Though as if to comfort him against her assertions, she began to preen him again. She bundled up his hair as he spoke, combing it through her fingers and twisting it up into a self sustaining bun,

“It would not be under normal circumstances. It is not as if I have had to defeat an enemy army in order to spirit you away. That is why it’s perfect, and… and I respect your right to not keep to this plan once it’s through.”

“Put your clothes on, Chao.”

“Right!” Though the dumb man was just as absent from his mind as she was it seemed. He tried to thread his various limbs through cloth while still grasping his pipe, and it was only when she snatched it away from him did he even seem to notice, “… My horse is stabled not far from here. Do you need time to prepare?”

“Just take me now, Chao.” She said with a hint of ire, “No delays. I feel my mind could switch at any moment.”

“I love you, Huan…”

She didn’t respond, merely coddling the world in the warmth of her heart to ensure it wouldn’t lose its effect just yet.

[micuko]

BOC: Thank you lovely fans for sending a food truck to the filming set. The Head of unit barcodetin is energetic and ready to go to work.

[micuko]

Via SOS twitter

[micuko]

SOS: Wuju Reporter

Raon is concentrated... about the bakery.

[yi-dashi]

Starter for @monstheir (Yone)

Though few knew of his heritage, appropriate rumors still fell in the Bladesman’s lap. If people reported negative feelings, or literal malevolent ghosts, his cultural obligation compelled him to investigate. The problems of the smallest villages rarely trickled up to the appropriate Orders in a timely way, so he strode onward without any expectation of acknowledgement.

But to say he was surprised, when his lenses lead him to a material sight, would have been to misread his muted expression. Yi staggered in his step, head jolting from point to point as he examined the other. The goggles themselves shouted complaints when his slightly ajar mouth would not, the components struggling against their mechanical bounds. A tight-chested breath then escaped the Wuju Master as his hands flexed about his blade, leaning back on his haunches in preparation for conflict.

“Are you the spirit that menaces this place?” He asked, tone demanding an answer. It was more complicated than that, though? This wasn’t just a spirit. Curiosity played at his mind as much as anxiety did, but threat management came before anything else, he figured, “Speak now, if you are able. Who are you? What are you? Do you have a name that can be known?”

[yi-dashi]

On Secrecy and the Wuju School

//I can’t think of a better title pfft. Maybe, On Wuju Anxiety.

  While the sword art of Wuju was secluded and secretive, the village of Wuju was semi-permeable to all those who knew it existed. There was no real problem with people wanting to interact with the common populous, as by necessity not all trades and supplies could be gathered up the mountain. The Wuju Masters, however, were keen on obfuscating their sword forms by all means necessary. None should know its true nature, and even today Yi finds a little comfort in that his representation of the art is not true to its intentions.

  In pre-war times, outsiders to Wuju village were not allowed to step near any place of learning. All schools, regardless of their relation to the actual sword art, were generally staffed by Wuju Masters. Viewing an armed practitioner was a harsher crime, and anyone seen to be loitering just to interact with Bladespeople could be barred from exiting Wuju. The export of anything but specific goods was outlawed, and letters could be screened for their content before allowing their exit. The rule of Wuju Master law was strong, and villagers really had no problems in reporting what they saw to be transgressions. At the very least, all visitors were prepped on the expectations before they were allowed free access to the place.

  Only two Masters were given the specific task of interacting with outsiders, whether in person or by letter. Ideally, one Master would act as the face of the Wuju Practitioners, and the other would act as watch over them and their actions. It was very important that the person chosen for this job was reliably prepped in decorum, misdirection, penmanship, and general administration work. The more they could misrepresent their institution, the better. While they could be held accountable under a court of other Masters, they were generally trusted to represent the school as they saw fit. This included holding trials for any suspected Wuju infractions when it came to outsiders. He or she had already sternly spoken to you on arrival, after all. You brought this upon yourself.

 Of course, other Masters were free to leave the village at any time, and interact with outsiders away from Wuju. These Masters were most often performance artists, and would do so under bardic pseudonyms, in different disguises each time, or without a sword on their person. If forced to use their techniques, these uses would be scrutinized at a later date. Ideally, all Masters would travel in pairs, regardless of whether the second Master particularly wanted to travel too. Doing activities in pairs applied to almost every practice in the art, in fact. That was no guarantee of accountability, but it at least eased people’s anxieties.

[yi-dashi]

//I like the notion that Yi wears his helmet almost everywhere, as reported by Wukong, but in Homecoming he barely wears it for the duration of the story. Only when he needs to deal with matters of the spirits, or when he is meditating does he pull it out. It’s easy to read as an act out of respect. His face is how people knew him on the mountain, and so he shows it to them. The goggles are a front for those away from Wuju, even if they weren’t intended to be.

  But then thinking about it from this angle, there is a second level to the whole thing. Yi is very recognizable. His defense of Bahrl is apparently something that earned him a lot of notoriety. Not so much that people might recognize him without the goggles though. That might be hard to say, because Yi is shown interacting with so few people on Bahrl, but it does make me think. Yi might rather disappear into obscurity. Such is the Wuju way. The goggles allow him his retreats to isolation without questions from anyone, which opens some questions about how he views himself and his situation...

[yi-dashi]

//Motherly headcanons on this fine mothers day.

  Let’s talk about the Wuju trial of the decade!

  Shouhou Huan was a former Wuju student, about average in her proficiency when compared to her peers. Her parents were blacksmiths, though otherwise uninvolved in Wuju, so they were happy for her to branch out. Being a bladeswoman with aspirations of mastery, she was judged as much as she was respected. Eventually she was forced to leave the Wuju School, and the record would show that it was a mutual decision based on a difference in lifestyle.

  In reality, it had become apparent that she had left the village on at least one occasion with the intent of courting a man outside of Wuju. The drama between Yi’s mother and father is a complicated story, but the issue from the School’s perspective was her defiance, and potential chance of pregnancy. Having children in or out of wedlock wasn’t particularly an issue, but carrying one when you practice an art that deals in rigorous exercise, teleportation, and healing magic definitely was. Leaving the village when not yet a Master was also a capital crime, and the main focus of events.

  Under Wuju law, it was required that a tribunal be held. The judging members always consisted of the two Masters specifically assigned to the student, and a third Master to act as a tiebreaker and mediator. Huan argued by conceding that she had broken the law, and admitted she would normally be subject to the harshest punishment. She petitioned for a lesser sentence however, citing that the circumstances of her relationship with Yi’s father had saved his life, and that ultimately she couldn’t be sure if she was with child. They quickly dismissed any moral question to do with her future husband, but were stuck when it came to trialing a sexually active female student.

  Her two Masters, the bardic hero Master Yhen and the relatively young philosopher Master Kuu-Ro, were split. Yhen argued for a literal interpretation of the law. He cited that while he wouldn’t think of banishment to death under most circumstances, he wasn’t comfortable setting the precedent that any female Wuju Practitioner could leave, become with child, then avoid punishment because of a morally grey area. This was a shock to most, as Yhen was known for often breaking the law. Kuu-Ro agreed that the precedent had potential to be dangerous. However, he rebutted that this situation was exceedingly rare, and as such all past and future cases would be considered uniquely. In the end, he was neither comfortable with the written law of banishing anyone to death, nor was he comfortable with potentially killing a guiltless unborn child.

  Ultimately when weeks passed and no consensus could be reached, especially as Huan self reported evidence of her own pregnancy, they gave the decision to the third tribunal member: Master Doran. Controversy surrounded his inclusion, but that’s a drabble for another time. He was known as a literalist when it came to law, and had historically been unafraid of death as punishment despite Wuju’s peaceful ways. He was, however, impressed by Huan’s honesty, and believed her when she said she only had dealings with Yi’s father. The stretch that was his logic then went: If the only person she shared her Wuju practice with was safely contained within the village, then had she really gone down the mountain by lawful definition? Wuju law only concerned itself with practitioners sharing the art with outsiders, not the specific act of leaving the village. Yhen once again argued for the precedent of the matter, but found himself not wanting to find more reasons to put someone to death.

  It would follow that the only crime she had committed was written on quite commonly; she had inadvertently attempted to start a family when not yet a Wuju Master. Something that called for expulsion regardless of gender. She was more than relieved to know she would be barred from ever leaving the village again, as well as expulsion from the school. On the condition that he could ever stand before a tribunal, Yi’s father would also not be permitted to leave. The infamy of being kicked out of Wuju practice was lost completely on her. Living was a much higher priority than enduring scorn.

  She was content to go back to the blacksmith craft, and eventually adopt her new husband into the practice as well. She was also surprised to find that her legal defense had come true: she was going to have a baby. But her drive was endless, so she devoted herself to weaponsmithing as well as family rearing. She was unique in her knowledge of inner Wuju, and could project this onto her craft. A lot was forgotten and forgiven when the local smith knew just enough to tailor blades to a Master’s personal taste. She was known especially for ornamental weapons that would shatter in combat, unless empowered by the Wuju Style. This would ultimately consume any other legacy she could leave.

  Though there was some regret as time went on, her dreams of Wuju mastery were later passed on to her son. To Yi, she was Emai. Wise, warrior mother who could beat him in a spar on most days.