Amidst the stillness, the two confronted each other.
The bead curtain was woven from pearls and the glass bed had jade boxes, tortoiseshell pillows, five colored jade ornaments laid with a mandarin duck quilt of three thousand pieces, festooned with exotic flowers and leaves.
Amidst such extreme opulence, everything dissolved into chaotic fragments of light and shadow.
Within the fragments, Xie Wuyan lowered his gaze and answered softly, “Never.”
A draft set the shadows fluttering. Candle flames shone through the red canopy upon his face, sketching wavering crimson radiance over his features.
Jiang Kui forced him to lift his eyes so she could search them coldly, confirming, “You’ve truly never held any affection for me?”
Xie Wuyan’s expression was unchanged. “I have not.”
Under threat of death, one often does not lie. His denial of rumors that the Crown Prince was smitten with the General’s daughter aligned with Jiang Kui’s prior guesses. It seemed he told the truth so she could keep interrogating.
Jiang Kui’s sword did not waver. She asked further, “Tell me, on the eighth day of the seventh month, when I nearly drowned by Tonghua Gate, why did you appear there?”
Xie Wuyan answered, “I was passing by.”
…Would anyone actually believe that?
Jiang Kui gave a soft snort. After one truthful reply she was given a blatant lie.
She tilted her head, still smiling as she watched him. Lifting the sword tip, she slowly trailed it down from his neck, parting his collar to stop against his chest, slicing an X over his clothes.
Then she leaned down, bracing a slender finger under his chin and breathed softly by his ear, “If you don’t want to die, answer me honestly.”
Her voice was captivating yet frigid with killing edge.
Jiang Kui’s strength tipped Xie Wuyan’s head back slightly. Her chilled strands of hair grazed his eyelids. He shut his eyes for a moment before responding quietly, “…Very well.”
Jiang Kui asked again, “On the twenty seventh day of the seventh month at the autumn banquet, someone tried to assassinate me. What were you doing there?”
Xie Wuyan was silent briefly. “…Drinking tea.”
…This person was really full of nonsense.
Just as Jiang Kui was about to prod his neck with her sword to cow him into submission, Xie Wuyan gave a sigh. “My lady, I’m not lying to you.”
“Xie Wuyan, what purpose did you have asking for my hand?” She cut him off coldly. “Do you harbor sinister designs upon the General’s Estate?”
Xie Wuyan lowered his gaze again. Forced by Jiang Kui to meet her eyes, his eyelids lifted as he returned her stare steadily, murmuring, “…You saved me once.”
Jiang Kui froze in surprise. “What?”
“Many years ago, you saved me before.” His voice was soft as he watched the candle flames dance in her eyes. “I heard the General’s Estate was in trouble so I sought your hand in marriage, hoping to repay my debt of gratitude.”
Jiang Kui blinked, looking down at him. His pupils were clear and bright, reflecting her image and countless swaying candle flames within. The lines of his features stood out in sharp relief, seemingly carved from precious jade – elegant yet desolate.
He did not seem to be lying.
But Jiang Kui had no memory of ever saving him.
She racked her brains trying to remember to no avail. Well, she had rescued many people before. He was probably one among the multitudes she’d saved, his presence fading into the vast ocean of her memories, leaving only the faintest ripple behind.
Jiang Kui wanted to ask how exactly she’d saved him but Xie Wuyan didn’t appear inclined to elaborate.
“What do you know about the General Estate’s circumstances?” she asked instead.
Xie Wuyan suddenly lifted a finger to his lips, murmuring softly, “Shh…walls have ears.”
Of course. Jiang Kui glanced outside. She vaguely made out shifting silhouettes beyond the green canopy.
Some palace maids were whispering nearly inaudibly but Jiang Kui could still catch with her martial arts hearing, “Why’d it suddenly go quiet after all that noise from the canopy just now…His Highness the Crown Prince is often sick so he can’t be very capable, right?”
“…They’re wondering about that?”
…Still she couldn’t allow rumors of discord between the newly wedded Crown Prince and Crown Princess to spread through the palace on their very wedding night.
Jiang Kui shot an annoyed look back at Xie Wuyan. “Lie down properly,” she snapped.
Xie Wuyan obediently shut his eyes.
In the lamplight Jiang Kui flicked open her skirt’s petal-like layers with one hand, revealing a slim beautiful leg as she efficiently bent down to tie her sword back on. The soft blade molded itself back against her fair skin. The lozenge patterns on its python sheath reflected fragments of candlelight like a lurking venomous snake retracting its fangs.
Jiang Kui sat herself atop Xie Wuyan again and lightly tidied her hair ornament. Then she gripped the bed frame and abruptly shook the entire bed violently.
The squeaking and rattling could be heard outside.
Low discussion started up again among the maids. “His Highness the Crown Prince has formidable skills!”
“…Oh hush up.”
Jiang Kui flushed slightly. As she lowered her head her gaze happened to meet Xie Wuyan already looking up at her. His eyes were limpid, watching her gently and tranquilly.
“Don’t look at me,” Jiang Kui whispered.
“As you wish,” Xie Wuyan whispered back.
His eyes slid over the scarlet hairpin skewered in her hair before immediately shifting away.
Amongst the tangled mess of luxurious textiles and gems, he closed his eyes once more.
In the soft radiance she perched beside him. Her hair draped over his neck, a faint scent drifting over – warm and real like an extravagant pipe dream.
Until the third watch of night when the stars filled the sky.
A pair of red candles slowly burnt out, the last of their flames sinking into the sea of flowers.
Jiang Kui opened her eyes, rising from the conjugal bed to glance over at Xie Wuyan.
She took the bed while Xie Wuyan slept on the floor. Neither wished to share the pillow so they’d argued over the issue earlier. Xie Wuyan insisted Jiang Kui have the bed and he lay down himself on the matted ground by the canopy. With back turned to her he would cough occasionally at first before gradually growing quiet, likely falling asleep.
The sickly state of his health seemed genuine. Jiang Kui even worried a bit that sleeping on the cold floor might make him ill. His coughs weren’t muffled but very soft, intermittent and faint, sounding extremely weak. As Jiang Kui listened from the bed there were multiple times she nearly suggested switching places before recalling his adamant gaze.
He could appear rather stubborn at times – silent and persistent, utterly solemn and unwilling to compromise.
It was very late and all was tranquil in the Eastern Palace. Jiang Kui peeked outside where coast was clear before deciding to slip out quietly.
At her departure she glanced back once more at Xie Wuyan. Bundled up fully clothed with head pillowed in folded arms, the slight rise and fall of shoulders marked each breath occasionally hitching from a muffled cough. He didn’t seem to be resting very well.
After a moment’s hesitation she heaved a small sigh, turning to head back inside the beaded canopy. She gently pulled the quilt of lovebirds off the bed and carefully tucked him in, drawing the edge up to his chin. The wan candlelight illuminated his chiseled side profile making him appear as peaceful as a statuette of some young deity even in sleep.
Jiang Kui scrutinized him for a spell but he remained motionless behind closed lids, not even an eyelash quiver.
…He slept like the dead almost comparable to Zhu Zi’an.
Jiang Kui shed the complicated wedding garb, donning only a white shift as she quietly slipped out of the canopy and left the Eastern Palace.
Beneath the moonlight, a little eunuch guarding the gates suddenly jerked awake. Squinting at the vanishing figure he discreetly prodded his companion awake with a poke to the shoulder.
Exchanging a look, one of them set off furtively tailing her from a distance.
At that time within Dong Jiao Building’s bookstore, a cold moonlit stillness reigned. Storyteller Liu Qinghe happened to be wandering immortal realms in his dreams when a knock at the door awoke him. Cursing under his breath, he got up to grab an outer robe and open the door. A snowy white clad girl stood outside in the night.
“Young Master Jiang, so late. Some urgent matter?” Liu Qinghe yawned out.
“Mr. Qinghe, may I come in for a bit?” Jiang Kui bowed to him. “I know Master Pu Liu is not here now. It’s very late and I’ve nowhere to go so I thought I’d wander in here for a spell.”
“Young Master Jiang, make yourself at home.” Liu Qinghe yawned again, ambling slowly back inside. With a lazy wave he called over his shoulder, “Master Pu Liu is upstairs, probably not sleeping yet this hour.”
Jiang Kui froze in surprise. Zhu Zi’an was actually here and awake too?
She swiftly headed upstairs, pushing open the door to the elegant suite. The man seated before a desk behind the bamboo divider was sipping tea. Moonbeams through the window fell across one shoulder. He wore an unadorned white changshan with an overcoat draped around him, hair loosely tied up. Though dressed as a scholar he resembled a noble scion.
In the cool moonlit room he lifted his face with a faintly mocking smile. “Her Royal Highness the Crown Princess couldn’t be running from her wedding night, could she?”
Hearing his voice brought Jiang Kui both joy and sorrow. She enjoyed the smile in his tone yet that “Her Royal Highness” marked her a married woman, freezing their relationship eternally at friendship.
“Hmph, I bet you’d be thrilled if I actually ran from my own wedding.” She plopped down on the mat across from him, ducking her head to obscure tumultuous feelings. “I just can’t sleep so popped in here for a bit.”
The corners of Zhu Zi’an’s lips quirked up as he poured her a cup of tea. “You got me quite drunk last night that I slept for most of the day afterwards. At the moment I’m fairly clearheaded so I can keep you company to chat a spell.”
“How is your tolerance that awful?” Jiang Kui sipped tea while muttering under her breath, “…Though the quality isn’t bad since no truths come out even when drunk.”
She hesitated briefly before venturing tentatively, “Remember anything you said last night?”
Zhu Zi’an braced his chin pondering then shook his head with a smile. “Afraid not. Accidentally trash talked you?”
“Sure, so you badmouth me behind my back. Interesting, Zhu Zi’an,” Jiang Kui scoffed.
The two seated themselves chatting and joking about recent and old topics as they slowly finished several pots of tea. Jiang Kui began nodding off, lids drooping. He asked her softly, “What do you think of Xie Kang…as a person?”
Her sleepy thoughts meandered that this was the second time he’d asked that question.
An odd persistence seemed invested in his inquiry but Jiang Kui was unsure what answer he wanted to hear. After a drowsy moment of contemplation she mumbled, “Mm…he’s rather well-behaved.”
Zhu Zi’an gave a small snort. Jiang Kui couldn’t discern if he was pleased or not.
“What about…” He sounded hesitant before asking again, “How do you find his looks?”
“Hmph,” Jiang Kui cast him an annoyed glance. “Definitely better looking than you, anyhow.”
Zhu Zi’an lowered his eyes, chuckling under his breath. He seemed strangely happy for some unfathomable reason.
“Tired?” He rose. “I’ll fetch bedding from downstairs.”
Dawn’s first glimmers edged the horizon as Jiang Kui dozed off leaning by the window. Dead asleep she lay completely askew, an utterly unruly cat.
When Zhu Zi’an returned upstairs with an armful of quilts he paused at the doorway. The hazy glow limned her cheek, dust motes prancing before her eyes – specks of gold afloat an ephemeral illusion.
He froze dumbstruck in that luminous instant, his load slipping unheeded to the floor. Time ceased as he stood transfixed by the vision, gazing and gazing.
In the vast silence his eyes drifted shut, gradual as a sigh.
…As if imprinting to memory or perhaps seeking oblivion.
Then he lifted the fallen bedding, spreading a soft makeshift pallet over the bamboo matting. Striding forward he bent down to gently cradle her resting form over to the quilts before carefully tucking them around. Each corner he meticulously adjusted.
His movements were light yet she was very restless, head lolling to and fro even in dreams.
Finally getting her settled, he withdrew only for her to suddenly seize a corner of his clothes.
Zhu Zi’an stared, nonplussed. Still deep asleep it seemed merely a dream’s fancy that animated her hand.
Exhaling heavily he leaned down intending to disentangle her grasp. But the barest graze of his fingers over hers made her clutch tighter, her exquisite fingertips slotting through his own bound in linen strips.
No warmth could traverse the barriers between. But still…
He lowered himself beside her with utmost care. “Aren’t you cold…” he murmured.
And there he lingered until the moon dipped down the western mountains and daybreak sketched the east.
The next day when the Crown Prince and Princess emerged from the nuptial canopies both appeared rather wan.
After paying respects at the Supreme Palace they returned to the Eastern Palace around midmorning. Taking advantage while the Crown Princess was away changing, a little eunuch sought approval from the Crown Prince’s adviser before approaching on bended knee, head lowered deferentially for a long moment. Finally he nervously relayed in a great rush, “Your servant has an important report.”
The Crown Prince stood washing his hands in the flowing water. At the words he glanced over, gesturing for the eunuch to continue.
Thus emboldened, the eunuch babbled that last night the Crown Princess had climbed over the wall to secretly meet someone at the bookstore under Dong Jiao Building.
Unexpectedly after the eunuch’s departure the Crown Prince merely waved a hand, chuckling softly under his breath.
And so the matter was dropped.
Author’s Note:
Little Xie: …I have cuckolded myself.
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