In the Hall of Golden Fortunes [1/5, ShoYou]
Title: In the Hall of Golden Fortunes
Pairing: Jinnai Sho/Omi Youichirou
Overall Rating: PG-13
Chapter Rating/Warnings: G/RPS.
Genre: Heian Court Vampire AU. sobs.
Total Word Count: 15000+
Chapter Word Count: 2707
Summary: A simple love affair between a princess and a mid-ranking courtier grows increasingly complicated.
Notes: A prequel to All Things Beautiful and Bloody, does not contain spoilers for the main story. Additional notes at the end.
--
Chapter 1: By the Light of a Single Lamp
The experience accrued from living a dozen mortal lifetimes had taught him that charming his way into a woman’s bed was simple. He had but to select a target, send a few poems written on a paper to match the season, attach a few trinkets or a suitable flower, and then it was only a matter of time before he found an unlatched door or caught hold of a retreating sleeve. He had taken to erasing their memories when he could, since women were weak and tended to weep endlessly into their sleeves when he took blood from them otherwise. It was a simple cycle of seeking, capturing, and feeding; monotonous, but in its own way pleasant.
His soothing cycles of cherry blossoms and autumn leaves came to an abrupt end with the arrival of the Lady Kinkou to the court. She was rumored to be a Chinese princess, or at least recently returned from that distant land. Romantic tales were invented about her origins and passed around, and before a month had passed it was widely accepted that she was the daughter of a nun who had traveled to China on a pilgrimage and the dragon spirit that had seduced her with his knowledge of The Law. She was said to be strikingly tall but no less beautiful for it, and to have a great love of poetry and literature. The men of the court were instantly taken with her and vied for her favor, holding poetry contest after poetry contest in an attempt to impress her. Their efforts were always outdone by the lady herself, and though she gave each of her suitors reason to hope, they were always disappointed, and she remained unmarried.
The coming of the new year saw him promoted to the fourth rank. The verse of gratitude he presented to the emperor was held as a brilliant example of its kind, and he received a slightly better position. Within the letters of congratulations he received was one from Kinkou, and he opened it immediately, thinking to himself that his improved position now gave him the opportunity to do what the other courtiers could not, and win her. If she was truly as refined as gossip made her out to be, then he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of this “life” with her. He would even try to ensure that she didn’t fall to the same mysterious sickness that had claimed his last two wives.
Her paper was lightly scented with the fragrance of evergreen and her handwriting was strong and curving, the occasional sharp angle hinting at her former life in China. He wondered how many Chinese characters she could write, then dismissed the thought to look at what she had written. “Long have I pined night after night, my sorrow rooted in empty soil. But to receive word from you would else spruce me up or cut me down to withered firewood.” He was amused and impressed by the writing. She employed several old wordplays in slightly new ways, with a somewhat antiquated style reminiscent of the first time he had arrived at court, making it feel at once new and yet nostalgic. He sent for a sheet of his finest colored paper and paused over his inkstone, twisting words back and forth until he settled upon a phrase.
The letter he sent back was on a slightly rough paper perfumed with plum blossoms, a style that had been popular six lifetimes ago, when he had been a mere servant in the court, without rank or position. He had dreamed then of rising in the world, of being “discovered” as a lost imperial prince or a minister’s son, and being in a position where he could write the same elegant letters and spend his days in pursuit of love and beauty. Now, eleven emperors later, he’d installed a “family line” of sorts, though there was only ever one male courtier of the Jinnai family serving the emperor at one time, and they all bore a striking resemblance to each other. Perhaps he’d begin adopting promising looking girl servants with no backing at court to marry off in order to increase his clan’s influence, and ensure that there was never a shortage of real children he could replace whenever it became necessary for his current incarnation to leave this world of dreams behind. Then again, depending on how this letter was received, he might be having too much fun romancing the lady to worry about improving his name overmuch. It was increasingly difficult to worry about his own rank when he had endless time to improve it. Only the need to be recognized by people he found interesting or charming, people that he could only meet in their short lifetimes until the cycle of rebirth brought them back to court, drove him to improve his own lot in life so that he could remain close to them until their passing. The Lady Kinkou was very much one of those people.
Her reply came not long after he had sent his out, the messenger bearing it along with a freshly cut plum branch. He traced the characters with an almost hungry intensity, as if they were written in blood rather than ink, as if he could take them into his mouth and taste her. It took some moments before he could settle himself long enough to read it and understand it, and an even longer time before he was able to come up with a suitable reply. His script came out looking hurried and rough, and he despaired of sending it to her, but the hand holding the brush was shaking, and he knew he couldn’t produce anything better. He tied it with a pretty reed and handed it to the messenger to deliver before flinging himself down onto his bed and burying his face in a pillow. “She’ll never respond to me now,” he muttered, so quietly his attendants didn’t hear. “Whatever made me think myself her equal…?”
No letter came for the next hour, and he eventually roused himself to respond to the rest of the letters. They were for the most part stilted and boorish, and even those containing a touch of grace seemed utterly lifeless in comparison to the lady’s. He couldn’t find it in him to respond with anything more than the quickest verse that sprang to mind, and though he took more care with his writing, he feared it still did not befit someone of his newly improved station. He was narrowing his eyes at a dull missive from a Captain of the Right, contemplating whether he could convincingly claim it hadn’t reached him, when the messenger returned and he all but tore the letter from his hands. This time her handwriting didn’t transfix him, but her words certainly did. “How lonely the cry of the solitary duck from a far-off pool. In search of a mate it migrates, but alas, its search comes to naught.” His breath quickened as he read the letter again and again, until he could bring himself to believe what it said.
Immediately he called his servants to bring him his finest and most appropriate robes. “I shall be paying a visit,” was the only explanation he gave, though he could tell from their expressions that they knew exactly what kind of visit he was paying. He dressed quickly, noted the time, and cursed the nocturnal status that prevented him from staying too long, lest the sun catch him.
When he arrived outside her quarters, he told his attendants to call for him half an hour before the sun was to rise. They were well aware of his condition, but they weren’t always clever enough to take the initiative in warning him when he was otherwise occupied. More than once he’d realized at the last moment that dawn was upon him and left parties far too abruptly. Such rudeness was all very well when everyone else was drunk on moon-viewing sake and wouldn’t remember a thing, but it wouldn’t do to treat the lady with disrespect. He only wished it didn’t mean that he would have to leave her long before he was finished. It wasn’t as if he were in a position to complain, since he would never have met her or any of the other great people of the court without his unnatural longevity, but there were times he wished he didn’t need to sleep at all, rather than being forced into an extended slumber day after day.
He took a deep breath and slid the door open. One of his attendants had announced him to the lady’s handmaid, and a cushion had been prepared for him not far from the standing curtain the lady sat modestly behind. He sat down, smoothing his robes, and focused his vision as sharply as he could in an attempt to see behind the curtain. Unfortunately, it didn’t work. He started with the pleasantries. “It was most kind of you to send me a letter, my lady. I could not have hoped that someone of your position would see fit to notice a humble servant of the court such as myself. Allow me to thank you once again for your kindness.”
The curtain shifted ever so slightly, and the corner of a sleeve slipped out at the bottom. “It is not hard to take notice of one so talented in every way. I only regret that I did not write to you earlier, that I might have had the joy of having examples of your fine work for my own all the longer.”
He blushed, unsure how to take such compliments. Flirtation and seduction in the guise of ordinary conversation was one thing, but he was completely unprepared for such direct statements of admiration. Did she want him to simply confess his love and take her, without the ritual of courtship that usually lasted months before any move was made? As if in answer, the sleeve slipped out even more, and he found himself leaning forward as if to grab it.
He restrained himself with difficulty. It wouldn’t do, it wouldn’t do at all. The difference between their ranks was too great. It would destroy her reputation to be inextricably tied to someone like him mere days after he had earned the right even to correspond with her. He moved back slightly. “If my meager calligraphy pleases the lady, I surely could arrange to copy a series of sutras for her benefit.”
Still her sleeve fell forward, and he fancied the curtain began to bulge out slightly, as if she was leaning against it. “Is this how you choose to approach our relationship?”
“My lady…” He moistened his lips, but his words still caught on them. “Although only the most beautiful of words are fit for your ears, if I might be so boorish as to speak in so direct and frank a manner as to invite your hatred…”
“Speak.”
“I so choose. When I received your last letter, I came here as fast as I could, fully intending to act upon all it promised. But…” He wished he could see her face, deliver his words with his fingers loosely tangled with hers. “Though we may be reborn endlessly until we may break from karma’s cruel wheel, each of us may only live the life we are presently given. If this should be the only time we two will meet, I would not want it to be so hasty an encounter. Surely your beauty rivals that of all the blossoms of the spring, but it would be a tragedy for it to fade just as quickly. I fear that even now I am only barely able to control myself.”
The slightest whisper of a laugh floated through the curtain’s thick brocade. “You say well, though if I too may be frank, as ill befits a lady, I cannot be entirely pleased with your response. If, as you say, we are given only a single incarnation in these forms, only one life in which we may meet like this, surely it is better to act upon the rare opportunities we are given as quickly as we may, lest they fade with the morning dew.”
“My lady, though the lifespan of a man or a woman is said to be short, I don’t believe it is so fleeting a thing. If you are destined to die with the dawning of the day, I will dedicate these last hours helplessly fulfilling whatever wish you may have of me without hesitation. But I very much hope your fate is to live longer than that, so that, though my attempts be meager when compared with the ceremony and refinement that you dearly deserve, I may have the honor and pleasure of romancing you with never diminishing, ever greater passion throughout the years.”
She gasped, and he could practically feel the blood rushing through her veins to color her cheeks. “Promise you then, that as long as we both shall live, your devotion will not waver?”
“I so promise.” Perhaps a hasty promise, made more for her reassurance and the advantages it would lend him, but even if he kept it to the letter, it was not as if he lacked experience in bringing lives to a premature end.
“I fear this promise will bring you more pain than you can imagine,” she said. “Though it was not my intention, I have deceived you. I beg your forgiveness.” Her sleeve withdrew as she began to sob softly into it.
“What is love, if not pain and deceit?” he asked dryly. “I have made my promise, lady, and I take my leave now intending to honor it.” He rose to his feet.
“You would leave without soliciting a vow of the same weight from me?” The sleeve dropped softly onto the floor again and he knelt once more. “Perhaps you are so overconfident you feel none is needed; perhaps you lack the confidence to demand one.” He gritted his teeth, fangs digging into his gums. “Nevertheless I will give what went unasked for. You need not doubt that what I feel for you is love, and you must believe that I will continue to love you no matter what obstacles may come between us, no matter how long we live.”
“Your words are more than I deserve. Be certain that they shall be my comfort every lonely night we must be apart.” The words sounded stilted and trite to his ears, but it was all he could produce with his blood racing so feverishly. He quickly composed a poem to make up for it. “Under the dusky sky, the light of a single firefly puts the many stars to shame.”
“One by one the stars fade from the heavens, yet the fires of my passion remain unextinguished,” she replied. “I wish you a good rest, my lord.”
He quit the room feeling rather satisfied with himself. He roused his drowsing servant, who guilty informed him that it was yet three-quarters of an hour before dawn. He spent the carriage ride back to his quarters thinking of the Lady Kinkou’s low but gentle voice, how her mouth caught on the ends of certain words as if she were reaching for a sound that their language lacked. As he entered the torch-lit gate, he imagined her profile lit by candlelight, and wondered when he would have the chance to see it. When he fell into his bed and covered himself with the layers and layers of padding that protected him from the sun, he allowed himself to pretend that he was instead wrapped in her robes, and that any moment he’d feel her hands and lips moving against his body. He drifted into enchanted slumber still consumed by that fantasy.
He woke to a letter from her as the sun sunk below the distant horizon. The paper was desperately out of season, reminiscent as it was of the autumn leaves. Her handwriting was terse and lacked intricacy. It opened with the words, “It has been decided that I am to marry the Emperor.”
He dropped the letter and began to weep silently.
Next chapter→
--
Clearly I took too many courses about ancient Japanese literature in school. Sobs. I hope this one will be a short one.
Some interesting things! Ancient hours are actually two hours long, so actually half an hour by their reckoning is a regular normal people hour. Also all the hours were named after zodiac animals. Well, if they're going to be like that, it makes more sense than having a Dog AM and a Dog PM, right?
iirc there were 9 ranks in the imperial court, with the first three being the really important people with positions hand-picked by the Emperor and co. and everyone after that was still important people, but, you know, not so much. But Sho-chan is getting there!! Become the Palace Minister :DD Probably the lady is about second rank, so she is a little far away, but Sho-chan is allowed to dream ;A; Anyway, she started it, so it's fine, it's fine -u-
Everything else is either puns, cliches of the time period, or Buddhism. Mostly puns. sobs.
Pairing: Jinnai Sho/Omi Youichirou
Overall Rating: PG-13
Chapter Rating/Warnings: G/RPS.
Genre: Heian Court Vampire AU. sobs.
Total Word Count: 15000+
Chapter Word Count: 2707
Summary: A simple love affair between a princess and a mid-ranking courtier grows increasingly complicated.
Notes: A prequel to All Things Beautiful and Bloody, does not contain spoilers for the main story. Additional notes at the end.
--
Chapter 1: By the Light of a Single Lamp
The experience accrued from living a dozen mortal lifetimes had taught him that charming his way into a woman’s bed was simple. He had but to select a target, send a few poems written on a paper to match the season, attach a few trinkets or a suitable flower, and then it was only a matter of time before he found an unlatched door or caught hold of a retreating sleeve. He had taken to erasing their memories when he could, since women were weak and tended to weep endlessly into their sleeves when he took blood from them otherwise. It was a simple cycle of seeking, capturing, and feeding; monotonous, but in its own way pleasant.
His soothing cycles of cherry blossoms and autumn leaves came to an abrupt end with the arrival of the Lady Kinkou to the court. She was rumored to be a Chinese princess, or at least recently returned from that distant land. Romantic tales were invented about her origins and passed around, and before a month had passed it was widely accepted that she was the daughter of a nun who had traveled to China on a pilgrimage and the dragon spirit that had seduced her with his knowledge of The Law. She was said to be strikingly tall but no less beautiful for it, and to have a great love of poetry and literature. The men of the court were instantly taken with her and vied for her favor, holding poetry contest after poetry contest in an attempt to impress her. Their efforts were always outdone by the lady herself, and though she gave each of her suitors reason to hope, they were always disappointed, and she remained unmarried.
The coming of the new year saw him promoted to the fourth rank. The verse of gratitude he presented to the emperor was held as a brilliant example of its kind, and he received a slightly better position. Within the letters of congratulations he received was one from Kinkou, and he opened it immediately, thinking to himself that his improved position now gave him the opportunity to do what the other courtiers could not, and win her. If she was truly as refined as gossip made her out to be, then he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of this “life” with her. He would even try to ensure that she didn’t fall to the same mysterious sickness that had claimed his last two wives.
Her paper was lightly scented with the fragrance of evergreen and her handwriting was strong and curving, the occasional sharp angle hinting at her former life in China. He wondered how many Chinese characters she could write, then dismissed the thought to look at what she had written. “Long have I pined night after night, my sorrow rooted in empty soil. But to receive word from you would else spruce me up or cut me down to withered firewood.” He was amused and impressed by the writing. She employed several old wordplays in slightly new ways, with a somewhat antiquated style reminiscent of the first time he had arrived at court, making it feel at once new and yet nostalgic. He sent for a sheet of his finest colored paper and paused over his inkstone, twisting words back and forth until he settled upon a phrase.
The letter he sent back was on a slightly rough paper perfumed with plum blossoms, a style that had been popular six lifetimes ago, when he had been a mere servant in the court, without rank or position. He had dreamed then of rising in the world, of being “discovered” as a lost imperial prince or a minister’s son, and being in a position where he could write the same elegant letters and spend his days in pursuit of love and beauty. Now, eleven emperors later, he’d installed a “family line” of sorts, though there was only ever one male courtier of the Jinnai family serving the emperor at one time, and they all bore a striking resemblance to each other. Perhaps he’d begin adopting promising looking girl servants with no backing at court to marry off in order to increase his clan’s influence, and ensure that there was never a shortage of real children he could replace whenever it became necessary for his current incarnation to leave this world of dreams behind. Then again, depending on how this letter was received, he might be having too much fun romancing the lady to worry about improving his name overmuch. It was increasingly difficult to worry about his own rank when he had endless time to improve it. Only the need to be recognized by people he found interesting or charming, people that he could only meet in their short lifetimes until the cycle of rebirth brought them back to court, drove him to improve his own lot in life so that he could remain close to them until their passing. The Lady Kinkou was very much one of those people.
Her reply came not long after he had sent his out, the messenger bearing it along with a freshly cut plum branch. He traced the characters with an almost hungry intensity, as if they were written in blood rather than ink, as if he could take them into his mouth and taste her. It took some moments before he could settle himself long enough to read it and understand it, and an even longer time before he was able to come up with a suitable reply. His script came out looking hurried and rough, and he despaired of sending it to her, but the hand holding the brush was shaking, and he knew he couldn’t produce anything better. He tied it with a pretty reed and handed it to the messenger to deliver before flinging himself down onto his bed and burying his face in a pillow. “She’ll never respond to me now,” he muttered, so quietly his attendants didn’t hear. “Whatever made me think myself her equal…?”
No letter came for the next hour, and he eventually roused himself to respond to the rest of the letters. They were for the most part stilted and boorish, and even those containing a touch of grace seemed utterly lifeless in comparison to the lady’s. He couldn’t find it in him to respond with anything more than the quickest verse that sprang to mind, and though he took more care with his writing, he feared it still did not befit someone of his newly improved station. He was narrowing his eyes at a dull missive from a Captain of the Right, contemplating whether he could convincingly claim it hadn’t reached him, when the messenger returned and he all but tore the letter from his hands. This time her handwriting didn’t transfix him, but her words certainly did. “How lonely the cry of the solitary duck from a far-off pool. In search of a mate it migrates, but alas, its search comes to naught.” His breath quickened as he read the letter again and again, until he could bring himself to believe what it said.
Immediately he called his servants to bring him his finest and most appropriate robes. “I shall be paying a visit,” was the only explanation he gave, though he could tell from their expressions that they knew exactly what kind of visit he was paying. He dressed quickly, noted the time, and cursed the nocturnal status that prevented him from staying too long, lest the sun catch him.
When he arrived outside her quarters, he told his attendants to call for him half an hour before the sun was to rise. They were well aware of his condition, but they weren’t always clever enough to take the initiative in warning him when he was otherwise occupied. More than once he’d realized at the last moment that dawn was upon him and left parties far too abruptly. Such rudeness was all very well when everyone else was drunk on moon-viewing sake and wouldn’t remember a thing, but it wouldn’t do to treat the lady with disrespect. He only wished it didn’t mean that he would have to leave her long before he was finished. It wasn’t as if he were in a position to complain, since he would never have met her or any of the other great people of the court without his unnatural longevity, but there were times he wished he didn’t need to sleep at all, rather than being forced into an extended slumber day after day.
He took a deep breath and slid the door open. One of his attendants had announced him to the lady’s handmaid, and a cushion had been prepared for him not far from the standing curtain the lady sat modestly behind. He sat down, smoothing his robes, and focused his vision as sharply as he could in an attempt to see behind the curtain. Unfortunately, it didn’t work. He started with the pleasantries. “It was most kind of you to send me a letter, my lady. I could not have hoped that someone of your position would see fit to notice a humble servant of the court such as myself. Allow me to thank you once again for your kindness.”
The curtain shifted ever so slightly, and the corner of a sleeve slipped out at the bottom. “It is not hard to take notice of one so talented in every way. I only regret that I did not write to you earlier, that I might have had the joy of having examples of your fine work for my own all the longer.”
He blushed, unsure how to take such compliments. Flirtation and seduction in the guise of ordinary conversation was one thing, but he was completely unprepared for such direct statements of admiration. Did she want him to simply confess his love and take her, without the ritual of courtship that usually lasted months before any move was made? As if in answer, the sleeve slipped out even more, and he found himself leaning forward as if to grab it.
He restrained himself with difficulty. It wouldn’t do, it wouldn’t do at all. The difference between their ranks was too great. It would destroy her reputation to be inextricably tied to someone like him mere days after he had earned the right even to correspond with her. He moved back slightly. “If my meager calligraphy pleases the lady, I surely could arrange to copy a series of sutras for her benefit.”
Still her sleeve fell forward, and he fancied the curtain began to bulge out slightly, as if she was leaning against it. “Is this how you choose to approach our relationship?”
“My lady…” He moistened his lips, but his words still caught on them. “Although only the most beautiful of words are fit for your ears, if I might be so boorish as to speak in so direct and frank a manner as to invite your hatred…”
“Speak.”
“I so choose. When I received your last letter, I came here as fast as I could, fully intending to act upon all it promised. But…” He wished he could see her face, deliver his words with his fingers loosely tangled with hers. “Though we may be reborn endlessly until we may break from karma’s cruel wheel, each of us may only live the life we are presently given. If this should be the only time we two will meet, I would not want it to be so hasty an encounter. Surely your beauty rivals that of all the blossoms of the spring, but it would be a tragedy for it to fade just as quickly. I fear that even now I am only barely able to control myself.”
The slightest whisper of a laugh floated through the curtain’s thick brocade. “You say well, though if I too may be frank, as ill befits a lady, I cannot be entirely pleased with your response. If, as you say, we are given only a single incarnation in these forms, only one life in which we may meet like this, surely it is better to act upon the rare opportunities we are given as quickly as we may, lest they fade with the morning dew.”
“My lady, though the lifespan of a man or a woman is said to be short, I don’t believe it is so fleeting a thing. If you are destined to die with the dawning of the day, I will dedicate these last hours helplessly fulfilling whatever wish you may have of me without hesitation. But I very much hope your fate is to live longer than that, so that, though my attempts be meager when compared with the ceremony and refinement that you dearly deserve, I may have the honor and pleasure of romancing you with never diminishing, ever greater passion throughout the years.”
She gasped, and he could practically feel the blood rushing through her veins to color her cheeks. “Promise you then, that as long as we both shall live, your devotion will not waver?”
“I so promise.” Perhaps a hasty promise, made more for her reassurance and the advantages it would lend him, but even if he kept it to the letter, it was not as if he lacked experience in bringing lives to a premature end.
“I fear this promise will bring you more pain than you can imagine,” she said. “Though it was not my intention, I have deceived you. I beg your forgiveness.” Her sleeve withdrew as she began to sob softly into it.
“What is love, if not pain and deceit?” he asked dryly. “I have made my promise, lady, and I take my leave now intending to honor it.” He rose to his feet.
“You would leave without soliciting a vow of the same weight from me?” The sleeve dropped softly onto the floor again and he knelt once more. “Perhaps you are so overconfident you feel none is needed; perhaps you lack the confidence to demand one.” He gritted his teeth, fangs digging into his gums. “Nevertheless I will give what went unasked for. You need not doubt that what I feel for you is love, and you must believe that I will continue to love you no matter what obstacles may come between us, no matter how long we live.”
“Your words are more than I deserve. Be certain that they shall be my comfort every lonely night we must be apart.” The words sounded stilted and trite to his ears, but it was all he could produce with his blood racing so feverishly. He quickly composed a poem to make up for it. “Under the dusky sky, the light of a single firefly puts the many stars to shame.”
“One by one the stars fade from the heavens, yet the fires of my passion remain unextinguished,” she replied. “I wish you a good rest, my lord.”
He quit the room feeling rather satisfied with himself. He roused his drowsing servant, who guilty informed him that it was yet three-quarters of an hour before dawn. He spent the carriage ride back to his quarters thinking of the Lady Kinkou’s low but gentle voice, how her mouth caught on the ends of certain words as if she were reaching for a sound that their language lacked. As he entered the torch-lit gate, he imagined her profile lit by candlelight, and wondered when he would have the chance to see it. When he fell into his bed and covered himself with the layers and layers of padding that protected him from the sun, he allowed himself to pretend that he was instead wrapped in her robes, and that any moment he’d feel her hands and lips moving against his body. He drifted into enchanted slumber still consumed by that fantasy.
He woke to a letter from her as the sun sunk below the distant horizon. The paper was desperately out of season, reminiscent as it was of the autumn leaves. Her handwriting was terse and lacked intricacy. It opened with the words, “It has been decided that I am to marry the Emperor.”
He dropped the letter and began to weep silently.
Next chapter→
--
Clearly I took too many courses about ancient Japanese literature in school. Sobs. I hope this one will be a short one.
Some interesting things! Ancient hours are actually two hours long, so actually half an hour by their reckoning is a regular normal people hour. Also all the hours were named after zodiac animals. Well, if they're going to be like that, it makes more sense than having a Dog AM and a Dog PM, right?
iirc there were 9 ranks in the imperial court, with the first three being the really important people with positions hand-picked by the Emperor and co. and everyone after that was still important people, but, you know, not so much. But Sho-chan is getting there!! Become the Palace Minister :DD Probably the lady is about second rank, so she is a little far away, but Sho-chan is allowed to dream ;A; Anyway, she started it, so it's fine, it's fine -u-
Everything else is either puns, cliches of the time period, or Buddhism. Mostly puns. sobs.