Jinhai

 

Madam Tseng and the Liangs sit down to discuss details.  Shan and I escape to the relative privacy of our room.  Shan’s chuckling to himself.

“Did you have anything to do with this?” I ask.

“I suggested to Xiaxia that she suggest to Ren Baiyi that he have a word with the Emperor.  But grandmother’s as much of a surprise to me as to everyone else.  Lai Xue’s a little demon.”

“It looks as if grandmother’s well up to handling the pair of them.”

“You were very impressive,” he says smiling.

“I can’t stand bullies.”

“What’s this about your foster-brother the Emperor?”

“That seemed like the best way to describe the relationship.”  I sit on the bed beside him and sigh.  “I wish we could get away from all this.  I wish you were coming to this wretched banquet.”

He reaches out his good hand and strokes the side of my face.  “We’ll go home tomorrow.  One more day.”

I move in closer, lean my head against his shoulder and close my eyes.  But there’s no peace in this busy house.  There’s a knock on the door and a servant comes in with a bundle.

“With Sir Yuan’s compliments,” he says bowing.

The bundle contains clothes.  I suddenly remember that Yuan Song said he’d bring suitable outfits back from the Pavilion for us to wear to the banquet.  Fearing the worst, I shake the robes out, but they turn out to be entirely appropriate.

“Well, that’s a relief,” I say.  “I was expecting transparent trousers again.”

Shan grins.  “You looked good in those.”

“I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.  Not to mention rouging my…”  I stop.

“Your what?”

“Never mind.”

The carriage is coming for us at the third hour after noon.  The robe Yuan Song has chosen for me is peacock blue with a dark blue sash.  There’s also a matching fan painted with birds.  My hair’s not yet long enough to do up so I leave it loose.  Shan combs it for me.  “Do you remember me doing this back then, in the wagon going to Qiu?” he says softly.

“Of course I do.  I remember it all.”

His lips touch the side of my neck and I shiver.  “There, it’s done,” he says.

I stand up and shake the robe out so it falls properly.  “How do I look?”

I’ve seen that intense expression on his face twice before:  once at the Jiayuguan Pass when I dressed up to fool the border inspectors and again just before I went into Qiu City.  I didn’t really know what it meant then, but I do now.

His voice is husky.  “You look……” he stops.

“Fuckable?”

“Oh Gods …”  He pulls me in with his good arm and buries his face in my neck.  “This damned wrist.  I want to….”

“Tomorrow,” I murmur, holding him tight.

The carriage arrives.  Everyone comes out to see us off.  Yuan Song’s in turquoise green, ravishing with his hair simply dressed and his face without makeup. 

Xiaxia sighs at the sight of us.  “It’s really not fair for men to be so beautiful,” she says wistfully.

Yuan Song taps her with his fan.  “You’ve got nothing to complain about, child,” he says, and gets a beaming smile in reply. 

“Don’t get drunk,” is Mo Jiang’s advice.

“Take care,” Liang Zhou says anxiously. 

Ah-Zhou never looked this careworn while we were on the road, I think, as I get into the carriage.  But this last year has been hard on all of us.

Yuan Song reaches over and smooths an errant lock of my hair, a habitual gesture of his.  “What are you thinking about?” he asks lightly.

“How things have changed.  I’m not used to it yet.”

“It’ll take a while and it won’t be easy.”

As we roll in through the main entrance, I can’t help shivering, remembering the misery of the wasted years spent inside these walls.

Yuan Song notices, of course.  “Bad memories?”

“When we rushed in here after the explosion, I didn’t have time to think about how things used to be back then.  But now I remember.  I had nightmares about never being able to get out.”

“But you did manage to get out.”

The carriage jolts to a halt.  “I think we walk from here,” Yuan Song says.

We join the line of guests making their slow way towards the entrance of the banqueting hall.  We’re being stared at.  Some of the stares are admiring, some friendly, others hostile or contemptuous.

“Ignore them,” Yuan Song says, flicking his fan open.

Once inside the vast hall, we’re shown to our tables.  Shao Ru’s already there, sitting stiffly at the table next to mine, looking extremely uncomfortable in a rather splendid brand-new robe.

“Thank the Gods you’re here,” he says, “You can tell me what to do.”

From across the room, Wu Shun waves a friendly hand and his father bows courteously.  There are other friendly faces scattered about:  Tao Yahui and General Chen, Li Wei, Prime Minister Teng and Wan Ning.  We’re all sitting close to the raised dais where the Imperial family will be placed.  I haven’t met the Empress and I’m rather curious about her.  It turns out Shan’s description is accurate:  she’s a tall, graceful girl with a grave expression and quiet charm.  The pregnancy hardly shows under her heavy robes.  Third Brother leads her to her table and helps her sit.  His every gesture expresses fondness.  With them is Kong Guanyu in his role as Imperial brother-in-law, resplendent in deep purple with a snow-leopard skin flung over one shoulder and a lot of gold jewelry.  

I hear Shao Ru snort.  “Flashy bastard,” he mutters.

On my other side, Yuan Song chuckles quietly behind his fan.

“Is he still pursuing you?”  I ask, behind mine.

“No, he’s given up.  Tell me, what does Liao Shan see in him?”

“Well, you know Shan.  He feels responsible for everybody.  And Kong Guanyu did help save Duan Bai’s life.”

“Yes, he did.  I’ve thanked him for that.”

Shao Ru’s good ear’s turned towards us.  “Seven years ago when we fought together, he was a promising young’un, but he’s been spoiled since.  Ah-Shan’s thinks the old Guanyu’s still in there somewhere, but I have my doubts.  Back in the Old Fort, he nearly did for us a couple of times.  Then Ah-Shan lost his temper.  After that Guanyu behaved.”

Shan hasn’t told me this.

“So, when Liao Shan loses his temper…..?” Yuan Song probes delicately.

“He’s terrifying,” I say frankly.

“Best to stay out of his way,” Shao Ru agrees, nodding.

The Emperor rises and thanks us all for coming, proposes a toast, for which we all stand, and invites us to eat.  It’s the usual routine:  music, dancing girls, endless dishes of food.  We eat, we drink.  More toasts are proposed.  The level of chatter rises as the wine goes round.  After some time, the Emperor takes his leave, the Empress’s condition being the nominal excuse, though I know that my Third Brother, like Shao Ru, hates formal occasions.  Without the Imperial presence, things get rowdier.  I’m just about to propose to Yuan Song that we take our leave also, when we’re addressed by a voice I don’t recognize.  “The Cherry Blossom Pavilion must be missing you, Yuan Song.  Ah no, I have to address you as Sir Yuan now, don’t I?  My apologies, Sir Yuan.”

The speaker is a short squat person with few personal charms.  He looks familiar.  He’s Young Master Teng, eldest son of the Prime Minister.  He’s accompanied by a thin young man of about the same age, who has a contemptuous sneer on his face.  They’re both rather drunk.

Yuan Song sighs.  “Good evening, Young Master Teng,” he replies, more politely than I would have done.  On my other side, Shao Ru stirs.

Young Master Teng looks at his friend and giggles.  “I wonder how much an hour of his time costs now, Ah-Ju.  Do you think it would be worth it?”

I start to rise to my feet, but Yuan Song catches my arm and shakes his head slightly.  The attention of this unpleasant pair turns on me.  “And whom do we have here?” Young Master Teng says, grinning.  “Oh, I remember, it’s the Sixth Prince that was.  Except his mother was an adulteress.  So he’s just a common cut-sleeve bastard after all.”

Being in the Imperial Palace, we are of course unarmed.  I still have my fists, though.  But before I can launch myself at these grinning apes, a gold-bedecked arm comes round each of their necks and a face appears between their two heads.  The swollen nose and black eyes are familiar.

“Well now, who’s being rude to my friends, eh?” Kong Guanyu says.  His arms tighten and the two young men stagger, wince and choke.  Kong Guanyu grins at us.  “Sir Yuan, Young Master Zhao, my Imperial brother-in-law commands your presence in the antechamber.  In the meanwhile, these two delightful persons can come outside and explain their remarks to me.”

Still caught in the choke-hold, the two unfortunate young men are forced to accompany Kong Guanyu as best they can to the entrance.  The crowd stares, but no-one can interfere with the Imperial brother-in-law, not even the Prime Minister, though he’s looking a little anxious.  Shao Ru’s also on his feet.  “I might go and give Guanyu a hand,” he says, and heads for the door.

Yuan Song laughs.  “Now I understand what Liao Shan sees in him.  Come, the Emperor’s waiting.”

The eyes of the crowd follow us as we make our way to the antechamber, where my Third Brother’s waiting, with Kong Nuan.  We kneel in salute.

“No, no, please rise,” Yan Jianhong says, smiling.  “I wish to make you known to my wife.  My dear, Young Master Zhao Jinhai and Sir Yuan Song.”

She can’t be more than eighteen or nineteen, but she seems very mature, totally unlike her brother.  “I wanted to meet you both to thank you for all your work on my husband’s behalf,” she says.  “Without you, we wouldn’t be here now.”

“Your Majesty, it was an honour,” Yuan Song says.

Her eyes turn to me.  “How is Sir Liao?  I hope he’s recovering from his injuries.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty, he’s very much better.”

“I’m glad to hear it.  Please thank him from me for everything he did at the Old Fort.”

“I’ll tell him, Your Majesty.”

The Emperor looks at me and smiles.  “There’s someone here who wants to see you.  In the side-room.”

I bow and say, “With your permission, Your Majesty.”  The Emperor waves a gracious hand, smiling.

Who can this be?  I go through the curtained doorway into the side-room and stop dead.  It’s Ah-Cheng, my faithful Ah-Cheng, who looked after me during all those years since my mother died.  His face is wet with tears, his lips trembling.  Without hesitating, I stride over and wrap my arms round him.  He feels very frail in my embrace.

“Y-Your Highness,” he stammers.  “Your Highness.”

“Ah-Cheng, Ah-Cheng, it’s really you.  I’m so happy to see you.  But how did you – what happened to you after I left the Palace?”

He wipes his face with a shaking hand.  There’s a couch against the wall.  We sit and I take his hands in mine.  He protests, “Your Highness – you can’t…..”

“Yes I can.  I’m not Your Highness any more, just Young Master Zhao Jinhai.  Have you been well?”

“Very well, Your High – Young Master Zhao.  After you left, I was assigned to the Third Prince’s household and I’ve been there ever since.  Then when the Dowager Empress took power and his Highness left the Palace, he found a safe place for me.”  He lifts a hand and timidly strokes my face.  “I was so worried after you left.  Then we heard about the taking of Qiu City and I knew you were all right.  And then the news of the assassination……”  He stops and swallows.

“Yes, these last two years have been very eventful.  Ah-Cheng, the Emperor’s waiting now, but may I come back soon and tell you all about it?  Would that be all right?”

“Of course, Young Master Zhao.  Just tell me when.”

I hug him again and he smiles rather tearfully and pats my back.

Back in the antechamber, Yuan Song and the Emperor are engaged in conversation, which they break off on my entrance.  The Empress is looking tired, unsurprisingly, so we take our leave soon after that.  The party’s breaking up.  We decide to head home.  In the darkness of the carriage, Yuan Song says, “You met an old friend?”

“It was Ah-Cheng, the eunuch who took care of me in the Palace.  I was happy to see him.  It took away the bad taste after the incident with Young Master Teng and his friend.”

“Don’t take it to heart.”

“What?”

“The insults of the ignorant.”

“I wanted to knock their teeth out.”

“I expect Kong Guanyu’s done that for you.  Don’t let it trouble you.”

“Doesn’t it upset you, to hear that kind of thing?”

“They’ll be throwing the Cherry Blossom Pavilion in my face till my hair goes grey.  I’ll have to get used to it.”

“And being called a cut-sleeve?”

I hear the rustle of satin as he stirs in his corner of the carriage.  “We love men rather than women.  It’s not something we can do anything about.  And why should we?  Love is love, after all.”

The words sink into my brain and bring relief.  I sigh.  “I hate this place.  I never want to come here again.”

“Then don’t.  You can go where you want.  You’re free.”

“And you - what are you going to do now?”

“There’s a city by the sea where I have a house.  It’s a pleasant place.  When Ah-Bai’s recovered, I’m going to take him there.  I'm going to  build a boat.”

“A boat?”

“So we can travel.”

“Can we come and visit?”

“Of course.”  There’s a smile in his voice.  “I’ll expect it.”

Liang Zhou’s house is quiet and dark, except for two lights burning, one in Duan Bai’s room and the other in Shan’s.  Yuan Song and I whisper goodnight and each turn to our respective doors.  Shan’s asleep, the single candle burning on the table where the medicines are.  His face is peaceful, though the old familiar frown still lingers between his dark brows.  Without thinking, I put out a finger to smooth it away.  His hand’s lying on the quilt, the long fingers at rest.  Looking at it, I suddenly feel a surge of desire, aided no doubt by the wine I’ve drunk.  Sighing, I turn away and head for the bathing screen, starting to undo my sash.  I wash quickly, come back to the medicine table dressed only in my undershirt and bend to blow out the candle.  Before I’m aware of it, there’s a quick movement behind me and suddenly I feel the heat of Shan’s body at my back.  His good arm comes round my waist and his voice murmurs in my ear, “I can’t wait any more.”

He kisses me under my ear, his lips wandering down my neck, pushing the loose collar aside.  I let my head fall back on his shoulder.  I can’t help but move my body against his.  There’s ointment on the medicine table, not intended for this, but who cares?  Shan says huskily, “Keep your hands on the table, like that.  And blow out the candle.”

He doesn’t keep me waiting. As he locks into me, I realize how much I’ve been missing this.  His left hand, warm and rough, slides down to my lower body.  The table rocks with the movement of our bodies, the medicine jars clinking together.  He murmurs endearments in my ear as I try and stifle my own gasps so as not to waken anyone.  Ah, this feels so, so good.

Later, we lie clasped closely together.  “Sorry,” he murmurs, “I’m not very good with my left hand.”

“You’ll just have to practise.  Is the wrist all right?”

“Fine.  A distraction, though.”

I chuckle and snuggle closer.  “I wanted that so much.”

“Gods, so did I.  How was the banquet?”

I tell him what happened and feel him tense up.  “Bastards,” he mutters.

“The Empress asked me to thank you for everything you did at the Old Fort.”

“Ah, you spoke to her.  Nice girl, isn’t she?”

“Very.  So different…."

” …. from Guanyu,” he finishes.  We both chuckle.

I can’t suppress a huge yawn.  “Sorry.  I feel so sleepy.  I’d better get into the quilts.  I can’t be found here in the morning with nothing on.”

He kisses my forehead.  “Go on then.  We can sleep together tomorrow.”

I roll into my quilts and fall asleep immediately.