After the snow, skies cleared as Crown Princess Xie walked through Eastern Palace gates bearing an exquisite snow lantern, seated in a petite palanquin.
Two vermillion winter lanterns flanked the entrance, their warm glow shining through gauze-thin scarlet paper to pool on glittering white grounds. Secretary Gu, bundled against winter chill, stood ready below to receive the royal visitor.
With cultured greetings exchanged for the season, Xie Yao stated her purpose. “Pardon my lack of notice, I’ve come to call upon my brother.”
Secretary Gu hesitated briefly. “…His Highness the Crown Prince is unwell.”
“He’s taken ill again?” Xie Yao sighed. “No matter. I didn’t come to see him anyway. Is the Princess Consort present?”
Another beat of silence. “…Her Esteemed Highness is also ill.”
…Xie Yao fell silent as well.
“You don’t think those lovebirds are playing hooky to toy with me, do you?” she mused aloud.
Unsure how to respond, Secretary Gu was spared when a carriage slowly rounded the corner into view. Descending wore an elegant young prince in purple robes, a bejeweled sachet swinging from his embroidered belt.
Xie Ruoheng exchanged greetings. “Wuyang isn’t here. I was informed yesterday.” With an acknowledging nod towards the secretary, “Pardon my intrusion, Huai Zhi. I’ve come to collect some documents Wuyang prepared.”
Huai Zhi was Secretary Gu Huai’s style name. *
Secretary Gu led them towards the study in the west wing. As they walked, Xie Yao immediately pelted Xie Ruoheng with questions. “What do you mean he isn’t here? Don’t tell me he snuck out of the palace!”
“He had some affairs to handle,” Xie Ruo calmly explained with an incline of his head. “Yesterday he entrusted me that should he be absent these next days, there were important state matters requiring your oversight in his stead. Doubtless he left correspondence for you in his study. We go to collect it now.”
“But where did the newlyweds run off to?” Xie Yao frowned in puzzlement. “What business could make them both leave court?”
“I’m afraid the details elude me as well,” came the response.
Xie Yao absently tapped her chin, imagination sprouting some fairly indecent theories…
Catching her expression from the corner of his eye, Xie Ruo let out an amused huff and flicked her forehead. “Little glutton. Stop that wandering mind.” * He chided gently, “They went to handle proper business.”
“Oh…” She cradled her head ruefully.
The snow stopped falling.
As far as the eye could see, endless pristine whiteness blanketed the land.
Zhu Zi’an turned to check the slumbering girl leaning into his shoulder. Carefully extricating himself, he stood and shook out his cape’s powdery dusting before gently laying it over her.
Next he stripped off his warmer military cloak and spread it across the boards, molding a cozy nest to gently pick her up and settle her in its folds.
Fast asleep, her cheeks were still flushed. He paused to brush snowflakes from her hair and softly ruffle the silky strands.
“You’ve worked hard these days,” he murmured. “Rest some more.”
With that, he vaulted back onto the driver’s perch, flicked the reins, and drove on through mounting drifts blowing across the muddy road, still heading due south.
A sharp gust sent snowflakes clinging to his lashes. He slowly blinked them clear, noticing frost riming the delicate fringe. Frowning slightly, he unwound the hemp cloth bindings and brought both hands up to carefully probe his eyes. Even direct pressure failed to melt the fragile crystals fused there…
He gradually became aware of faint tremors running through his frame.
Abruptly halting the cart, he stiffly clambered down and staggered half a step until catching himself against the yoke. One hand clutched his chest through several wracking coughs before he painfully pulled himself atop the planks, rummaging in his bundled cloak for a flask.
Insulated within thick wool, the medicinal wine remained pleasantly warm. He took a small sip and collapsed back beside the slumbering girl, tightly shutting his eyes to slowly gather strength once more.
Gradually the overcast sky turned clear and bright rays of sunlight lanced through dissipating cloud cover, falling across his wan complexion.
Eyelids fluttered open. He made to hide away the flask but she was already stirring awake to the gentle clatter of hooves and bells.
Sitting up clutching his cloak, she blinked at his straight back holding the reins. The stirring wind sent flurries falling onto him, emphasizing his slightly thin frame in a way that made her heart lurch.
So she leaned forward to sweep the warm folds of his cloak around his shoulders. Still full of her lingering warmth and scent, it surrounded him for an instant in a heated rush of sensations prickling through his skin as though drunk.
He glanced back. “You’re awake?”
“Mm-hm.” She stretched leisurely, lithe and supple. “Where are we now?”
“Over halfway there,” he informed her, flicking the reins again. “Snow cost some time.”
“I’m hungry,” she declared, patting her stomach. “Got any snacks?”
He sighed. “So demanding.” But obligingly pulled over by a burbling creek. While the ox wandered off to graze, Zhu Zi’an grabbed Jiang’s spear. “Borrowing this,” he grinned over one shoulder.
She blinked bewilderedly as he sauntered towards the tree line. “What for?”
“Hunting rabbit.”
“With my spear?” Another slow blink. “Don’t you have a sword?”
“Spear’s better suited,” he deadpanned.
Just out of sight, Zhu muffled a soft laugh. “Because I bear grudges.”
Oblivious to his petty revenge for that long ago hunt with her using his blade, she stared blankly after him before going to fill their waterskin downstream.
By late afternoon, sunset bloomed in a blazing inferno, leaping flames across the endless wilderness. *
They sat together roasting meat speared over a merry crackling fire Zhu had prepared in a small clearing. He’d produced a startling array of seasoning from his cloak alongside the ever-present wineskin. Soon, mouth-watering aromas of sizzling fat and herbs perfumed the little dell.
Firelight played over Zhu’s relaxed features as Jiang watched him baste the meat. Unable to resist, she blurted, “You can actually cook?”
“‘Course I can,” he preened smugly.
Shortly after, he passed her a perfectly seared piece. “Careful, might be hot still.”
It was indeed still a little scalding. She juggled it from hand to hand, breathing over the morsel until it cooled enough for her to tear into it with relish.
Deafening silence reigned while she focused solely on eating. Zhu watched her reactions closely with some nerves. But she polished it off swiftly and sighed in profound satisfaction, “That was criminally delicious… However did you manage it?”
He gave a small pleased harrumph, offering another cutlet off the makeshift spit.
Dusk slowly settled around them, tinting the open plains in vivid sunfire hues. *
Over supper, they shared the wineskin and drank chilled creek water. Zhu kicked snow over the merrily crackling flames and languidly went to fetch the ox. “Time we moved on. As the ancients wisely caution – one mustn’t linger overnight in the wilds.”
Jiang idly wondered, “Why not camp outside?”
“Hm?” Zhu glanced back distractedly as he checked the harnesses. “Ah – likely to fall ill.”
She scoffed. “I won’t get sick.”
“If you say so.” His lips quirked wryly. “I would though.”
“How are you so fragile?” She eyed him skeptically.
“Respect your elder.” He flipped his hat brim down and continued sagely, “As honorary Patriarch Geng weakly blooms, I must protect my health.” *
Their friendly bickering accompanied them back aboard the wagon beneath the emerging stars. Resuming his folk tune hums from earlier, Zhu drove down the slope towards scattered lights marking their destination below. But his eyelids soon drooped with fatigue, head nodding. Noting this, Jiang shifted forward and tapped his shoulder. “My turn to drive, you rest.”
He twisted to grin at her teasingly. “Think you can manage, Sir Jiang?”
She tilted her chin challengingly. “Teach me.”
“So demanding.” But he slid over on the narrow plank and wrapped his hands over hers holding the reins, patiently guiding her through the paces.
“Similar to riding horseback I suppose…” Jiang mused.
No reply came. A weight slumped onto her shoulder as his hat tumbled free. Chuckling ruefully, she carefully moved him to pillow in her lap and cast about until finding the fallen hat to shield his face.
Beneath the emerging stars they slowly clopped along, bells chiming time’s steady passage.
Eventually Jiang pulled over under an old scholar tree on a grassy bank and freed the ox to meander grazing by the glittering stream. She hopped off the wagon and circled round to lightly knock her knuckles on the woven hat hiding Zhu’s face, rousing him from dozing.
He shifted sluggishly. “Mm… how long was I out?” his muffled voice still thick with sleep.
“Not too long,” she assured, admittedly vague on the exact duration herself.
He seemed to blank for a second before asking slowly, “Where are we now?”
“San Jia Dian town already. Nearly the bottom of the last slope,” Jiang surveyed village lights winking below. “We can walk the rest.”
“M’kay.” Hat lifted away to reveal him fishing out his trusty wineskin, helping himself to a sip of restorative medicine.
“Ah ah!” She grabbed his wrist, stopping the flask halfway to his mouth. “No getting drunk this time. What a nightmare lugging you back last night.”
“Sorry sorry~” With a careless grin, he acquiesced and returned it into his voluminous cloak folds. “I actually don’t remember anything. Care to enlighten this old codger on events?”
“Dragged you.” She glared with mock ferocity.
“Come again?” His head tilted quizzically.
“Mm-hm.” Jiang blithely spun some nonsense. “By the collar the whole way. Lots of people stared.”
He digested this for a second. “…how humiliating.”
“Exceedingly so,” she nodded along cheekily before bursting into giggles. “Only joking!”
“Brat.” Zhu huffed in helpless exasperation, resisting the childish urge to rap her skull. Heaving a long-suffering sigh while she continued snickering, “I don’t know when you picked up that cheek.”
Still laughing, she pointed out happily as they descended the gentle grade, “Recently! Learned from you.”
He choked slightly at having his own medicine thrown back at him but couldn’t argue. So he wordlessly followed her lead down towards the hamlet nestled at the slope’s base.
‘San Jia Dian’ – meaning Three Stores – was a small town beside Wei River that prospered from high volumes of traffic passing along the military highway nearby. It apparently originated from only having three shops initially. The curious name also belonged to its sole traveler’s inn – the largest for miles and thus assumed whenever mentioned. *
As per usual, Three Stores Inn was packed tonight. Busily attending the endless flow of guests, the harried proprietor never stopped rattling his abacus atop the front counter, furiously tallying accounts as the beads nearly rattled loose from their frame.
The doors creaked open, admiting two young figures. Both wore face-shadowing hats but the first was swaddled in an enormous military cloak while his companion had on undyed hemp fabrics. Unremarkable garb for an establishment accustomed to travelers of all stripes journeying through this regional crossroads.
Approaching the counter, Zhu opened his mouth but was instantly cut off by the proprietor not even deigning to glance up from his ledgers. “One room left.”
…A weighty pause.
Just as Zhu inhaled to inquire further, the owner did flick his eyes upwards. “One bed.” He continued bluntly, “Ten silvers a night. No breakfast included.”
Another resigned sigh. Zhu reached within voluminous folds to retrieve a substantial bag of broken platters that thunked heavily atop the worn wood surface. *
A serving boy eagerly ushered them upstairs to the sole vacant room, all beaming dimpled smiles…
The sort of smile presaging peach blossoms – symbolizing romantic love. *
The oddly specific decor soon explained why. This was apparently a special chamber decorated for affectionate couples.
Admittedly tasteful at first glance. Intricately carved rosewood furnishings, plush imported carpet underfoot, ornate bronze urn wafting gentle incense… A canopied bed swathed by diaphanous gauze hangings dominated the room.
Then there were the calligraphic scrolls mounted around the walls. Though masterfully fluid with vitality, the bold sentiments were rather… garishly suggestive. Declarations of endless devotion and desire contrasted by a blatantly sexual phrase overhead. *
Zhu silently removed the inappropriate hangings to stack neatly atop a shelf before shaking out blankets. With the ease of long practice, he efficiently folded bedding into a cozy nest on the floor and ushered Jiang towards the room’s sole actual bed with an exaggerated courtly bow.
From his claimed corner, a muted grumble carried to her ears. “Standards keep slipping… used to at least have a couch.”
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