The cedar floorboards of the Maintainer’s Tea House creaked under the weight of three hundred conflicting sovereign wills.
Seated around the open-sided pavilion on woven rush mats was the strangest gathering in the history of the Canglan Continent:
On the north side sat the Grand Emperor of the Central Plains, wearing simple plain robes instead of dragon-silk.
Across from him sat the Azure Ape King, a towering eight-foot demon beast sovereign holding a carved wooden teacup with delicate, hairy fingers.
Beside them were wandering rogue fighters in patched hemp robes, village herb-gatherers, and reformed sect patriarchs who had spent the last two hundred years trying to assassinate one another.
Every man and beast in the room sat stiffly, eyeing their neighbors with nervous, twitching glances, fully uncertain of how to resolve disagreements without drawing high-grade flying swords.
At the center of the pavilion, Elder Wu DeZheng stood before a large chalkboard, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose. He tapped a wooden pointer with terrifying office power.
“Item Three on today’s agenda,” Elder Wu announced. His voice crisp and carried the rock-steady weight of a clerk who feared neither god nor beast. “The Water Rights Allocation Request for the Southern River Basin. The Golden Lotus Sect has submitted Form 44-D requesting twelve percent diversion for their lotus ponds.”
