The sun was red when it rose. The sea was like a mirror. There were wisps of clouds in the sky.

Unclear tidings.

Li Mei watched intently from her table, writing down the portents on her paper with her brush. She sipped at her tea. The morning ritual had been finely tuned from years of repetition.

She rose from her seat facing east, as her habit dictated. Looking out over the Endless Dawnlit Sea, she searched for some omen than the Great Azure Serpent to send. Anything. And once again, she had failed to find anything.

Sighing, she turned to her garden. On the island they had founded Xiang on, they found a most peculiar tree. It bloomed pink, and bore a tart red fruit. In the shadow of the Great Mountain, they had found a land most fertile, and it was upon the Great Mountain’s shoulder that Li Mei had her garden built.

After inspecting the garden, she returned to her desk. The Dragon Court had been asking of news of the future for much time, and she could not discern anything. Returning to her seat, she found her tea cup had been refilled by one of the mute servants she had employed. As she reached for the cup, her hand brushed it.

The stone spike.

She had kept it on her desk for many years, as a reminder. A reminder of the times before the Awakening. When the gods were greedy, and the Ascended Fathers craved blood.

Those times were gone, and yet the spike was not.

The fires had given her answers. The spike had divined the future. The sacrifices, they had worked. Perhaps it was time to return to the old ways.

Sinful, barbaric thoughts. She would have to purge them.

She wrote another letter to the Emperor. Those Beyond had given no warnings, and no council. They were alone in facing the Burmese in the Tiger War. Their foe was barbaric, backwards even. Raving and raging constantly about inaction and action, unable to see any reason. The Tiger War was one where the Shang would march forth, and yet the Burmese would vex them with plots and tricks. They were mere children, blind in the dark, hopelessly searching for where the next attack would come.

Li Mei picked up the spike and stared at it. She could still see the faded bloodstains. The thoughts of the Burmese invasion came back. The traitors in the army. The Silence from Sumer. The Sack of Min Wu. The rejection of peace. The letter after letter she had received from her remote island while searching for more answers. This spike could be the way to get them.

The Wood Minister looked out to the horizon once more, and saw the sun had turned yellow, and had risen high. She set down the spike.

No. Not today.