He poured out a golden liquid in five equal measures into each cup. He bowed after each cup was filled, then set the bottle down on the table when he was done. Taran Zhu bowed to honor him, then the statues, and everyone else followed his lead.
The master monk looked at the others. “Our fallen brothers and sisters are pleased that you survived. You have honored them in doing this and in saving so many. That this may have required from you acts that you never thought you might have to commit is regrettable, but not insurmountable. Contemplate, grieve, pray, but know that what you have done has preserved the balance for many, and this is, after all, our purpose.”
After another round of bowing, Taran Zhu approached the three outsiders. “If you would favor me with consultation in these matters.”
Taran Zhu led them to a small room. A number of maps had been laid out in a detailed mosaic of Pandaria. Jihui pieces had been placed strategically. Vol’jin hoped against hope that the relative strengths were not meant to be reflective of reality. If they were, Pandaria was lost.
Taran Zhu’s sober expression suggested the pieces represented worse: optimistic estimates.
“I must confess, I am at a loss.” The monk swept a paw out at the map. “The Alliance and Horde incursions did not involve wholesale slaughter. They balance each other, and both sides have been useful in dealing with difficulties.”
Tyrathan’s eyes hooded. “Like the Serpent’s Heart.”
“The release of the Sha of Doubt, yes.” The pandaren hid his paws behind his back. “Either force is better suited to opposing this invasion than we are.”
Vol’jin shook his head. “Bad blood between everyone. No trust. They’d be slow to move. No telling where they would move to. Can’t be moving without secure supplies and flanks.”
Taran Zhu’s head came up. “Could neither of you influence your old allies?”
“My people tried to murder me.”
“It would be best for mine if I truly was dead.”
“Then Pandaria is lost.”
Vol’jin smiled, flashing teeth. “We be without a voice. We can be telling you how to speak to them. They gonna listen to reason. We be needing information to convince them, and I know how we be getting it.”
16
Chen Stormstout did a last check of his pack. He was pretty sure he had everything he needed. Physically, anyway. But there, at the temple gate, he lingered just a little longer.
And smiled.
Back in the courtyard, Li Li was organizing an oxcart. That meant she was commanding the Stoneraker brothers to load and shift things. They suffered less because of her tongue’s lash, Chen thought, than because they were afraid of her, and because they’d been growing to like her. Yalia’s father, Tswen-luo, helped with the loading, and his presence did dull Li Li’s commentary.
Yalia left off supervising Li Li and approached Chen. Were it not for a quick glance down as she came, he might have thought her all business. But that one little break, it made his heart soar. “We will soon be ready to go, Master Chen.”
“I can see that. I’m only sorry our paths will diverge so quickly.”
She looked back at where her family gathered in the first group of refugees. “It is a very good suggestion you have to send people to the Stormstout Brewery in the Valley of the Four Winds. It is a hard trip but worth it for their safety. I am very happy my family is among those chosen.”
“That just makes sense. There they can learn all they need to learn for the Zouchin brewery. I should have thought of it before.”
She laid a paw on his forearm. “I know you send my family because only by giving Li Li the mission of getting them there safely will she leave your side.”
“And I am pleased that you are going to see to her safety.” Chen busied himself tying his pack shut again. “It was not an easy thing, there on the road, to have to go away while you fetched others. It won’t be easy leaving now.”
She brought her paw up and caressed his cheek. “You honor me by entrusting Li Li to me, and my family to her.”
He turned and wanted to gather her into a hug, but he could feel all eyes upon them. He didn’t care what anyone thought, but he would not besmirch her dignity. He lowered his voice. “Were you not Shado-pan—”
“Hush, Chen. Were I not Shado-pan, we would never have met. I would have been a fishwife with a half dozen cubs. Had you come to Zouchin, you would have given me a smile and a nod. You would have breathed fire to make my cubs laugh, and that would have been the end of that.”
He smiled. “Your wisdom makes you even more attractive, you know.”
“So does your honesty.” Yalia looked him in the eyes and smiled. “Having chased the turtle, you are not hidebound as we are. Tradition promotes stability but also inflexibility. Circumstances threaten stability and demand flexibility. I like that you can share your heart.”
“I like sharing it with you.”
“And I look forward to more time to share.”
“Chen, are you read— Oh, forgive me, Sister Yalia.” Tyrathan, his pack already slung on his back, stopped just inside the gate and bowed.
“I’ll be with you in just a moment.” Chen bowed to him and to Yalia, then jogged over to his niece. “Li Li.”
“Yes, Uncle Chen?” Her words came edged with frost, unhappy as she was to be doing “delivery service.”
“Less wild dog, Li Li, more Stormstout.”
She stiffened, then bowed her head. “Yes, Uncle Chen.”
He drew her into his arms and held on tight. She resisted at first, then clung to him. “Li Li, you will be saving lives, very important lives. Not just to me, or to Sister Yalia, but to all Pandaria. Great change has come to this place. Violent, horrible change. The Sageflowers and the Stonerakers and others will show such change can be survived.”
“I know, Uncle Chen.” She squeezed a grunt out of him. “Once we get them to the brewery, Sister Yalia and I can—”
“No.”
“You don’t think…”
He pulled back and tipped her face up so she could look at him. “Li Li, you have heard my many stories. The stories about the ogres, and tricking murlocs into making themselves into a stew and…”
“. . . teaching ice avatars and frost giants to dance…”
“Yes. You’ve heard many stories but not all my stories. There are some I could not share with anyone.”
“You would share them with Vol’jin or Tyrathan?”
Chen glanced over at where the man and Yalia were talking. “Vol’jin, because he was there for many of them. But those stories are terrible, Li Li, because there is no fun to them, there is no chance to laugh. The people of Zouchin have sad stories, but survival makes them good stories. In what we have seen, in what Tyrathan and Vol’jin and Yalia will see, there are no smiles.”
Li Li nodded slowly. “I’ve noticed Tyrathan does not smile much.”
Chen shivered, because he remembered Tyrathan grinning broadly at Zouchin. “I can’t save you from those stories, Li Li. But what I want you to do is to prepare the people at the brewery so those stories don’t happen to them. The Stonerakers may be lousy farmers, but put a scythe or a flail in their paws and they will give a Zandalari nightmares. If Taran Zhu and Vol’jin are going to have a chance of saving Pandaria, they’ll need as many reconstructed farmers and fishers as you can create.”
“You’re trusting me with the future.”
“Who better?”
Li Li threw herself into his arms and held on as tightly as she had when she was a cub and he’d head off on his adventures. He returned the hug and stroked her back. Then they parted and bowed, deeply and long, before returning to their appointed duties.