Rising Phoenix

Ning Yi had thought she would meet him at Shang Ye for their return to Dijing, together in their joy and victory. He had planned to ask about his box of letters and whether she had liked the reed leaf and the coral, whether she wished to visit together the reed marsh as the passed through South Sea. He had wanted to see how she had changed in their months apart, whether she had thinned or grew curves, whether she had tanned in the salt of the sea, whether she had stayed well — it had been too long since he had left, much too long.

“Wait for me.”

“I have to wait for you so we can return to Dijing together.”

“I know what you look like. If you get skinnier when we meet again, I won’t spare you.”

“How will you not spare me?”

“I’ll kill you, and we will never be reconciled.”

Those teasing words had unfortunately come to pass.

Their paths had forever diverged at Shang Ye port, and she would never again stand on those dewed green stones, her sleeves fluttering in the wind.

She would never accompany him to the reed marsh, to see their blossom and their dance.

She would never again care as he thinned or fattened, even if he shriveled into a sack of skin and bones.

She would never forgive him — the two lives that she most cherished and valued would forever bar them from each other.

They were irreconcilable — Princess Sheng Ying, Shunyi Queen, so determined and sure that she refused to give him even a single moment face to face — she had made her decision and words were useless. He understood.

When he had stood outside the Tai He City Gates and stared off down the road, he had known he would never catch up and she would never let him.

What could he say once he chased her down? That the order had not come from him? That Xin Ziyan had acted on his own? That Ning Cheng had stirred Xin Ziyan to act? That he had never thought of how to destroy her?

Even he could not believe the words he would say.

When they first met on that fateful day in Qiu Mansion, he had gone to meet with her Fifth Aunt. He had already asked the woman to steal the lockets of the outcast brother and sister, the main suspects in the Golden Feather Guard’s long years of investigation.

Feng Hao was of special concern, for Madam Feng’s great protection and affection for the boy-child seemed inexplicable otherwise and even Ning Yi had been certain that they were after the boy. But after meeting Feng Zhiwei by the icy lake, she had caught his attention.

She was so determined and so cold, so peaceful and calm, so many hints of a powerful and distant royal.

Madam Feng had raised Feng Hao as a foppish young master, the heir to Da Cheng’s history and their only hope of revival, while shaping her estranged and unloved daughter into a brilliant and extraordinary woman.

He could not believe Feng Hao was the one.

He had set a group of dandies on Feng Hao, stirring his vanity and baiting the boy into selling the treasures of his family. All members of the royal line possessed jade identity tokens, and Feng Hao had no understanding of a treasure’s true worth and was clearly embarrassed by his poverty, so once he stole and sold the valuable without alerting Madam Feng, the case would be closed.

While the playboys were tricking Feng Hao, his own attention had focused on Feng Zhiwei.

Their accidental meeting at the brothel, their encounter at the Academy, the matter of the Crown Prince’s rebellion, Shao Ning’s attack, Imperial Consort Chang’s birthday, the Fifth Prince’s rebellion — as she shone and excelled again and again, he grew more and more certain that she was a fledgling phoenix growing in the wild, her calls crisp and clear.

Though he was cautious, he could not help but approach her.

He never knew when the reasons for following her had shifted from his duties to his happiness.

Destiny. Fate. Sin. He could not stop himself from falling into the deep pools of her misty eyes, unable to free himself, unable to breathe without her.

In a heavily curtained room cut off from any trace of the February spring breeze, Ning Yi leaned on his desk, calmly shifting the ruined letter paper aside.

Spreading a clean sheet, he picked up his brush once more, dipping it into the fragrant ink and slowly writing.

Letter to the Honorable Shunyi Queen

The room seemed to blur before him and he once again saw the abandoned arc of the magnificent Da Cheng Bridge with them sitting together on the thin snow, leaning against the stone railing and sharing a bottle of cheap liquor.

He had pointed proudly, “That day, all of the surviving officials were grass in blowing wind – all kowtowed to his feet.”

She had smiled, cold, “They bent to the bloody sword.”

When the night finally died, she had poured out the last drops to welcome to first beams of dawn.

“The last drops I offer to a lonely bridge. All things must pass, but still this bridge remains.”

Time swept onwards and dynasties rose and fell, but in that moment, names and status meant nothing. There was only the work of the past, the lonely bridge ever faithful in the cold wind.

It has been long since we parted and I hope my Queen is well.

He had leaned his cheek into hers, his fingers gently playing with her hand. He had lowered his head, twining their hair and tangling their breath, and with a slight shift, touched his chin to her cheek.

Her skin had been smooth as jade and his heart had stirred as if a vibrant spring leave had fallen onto a pearly lake, gentle ripples that tapered and quietly faded.[1]

My Queen, are you well? They had been so close, hearts beating loudly in a tantalizing moment that seemed to flirt with danger, but finally not to be as the heavy snows poured down from heaven and smothered out the flame.

It is nearly half a year since we bid each other farewell at Longxi…

Pretty lanterns and colorful bands filled the palace as if so many bright pearls descending from the sky. Noble Imperial Consort Chang’s Birthday Feast, smiles throughout the Imperial Palace in celebration of new love, deaf to the weeping behind closed doors.

In a dark and abandoned room as rain poured outside, she had stirred a fire into life and cared for him, and there was peace and warmth.

“Do you think you are so pretty that I will lose control?”

“I think I am.”

In the darkness of that warm and fragrant room, he had tasted her sweet lips, fresh as a hidden spring. He had lost himself in her as their kiss deepened, and within all his careful walls seemed to unravel.

Zhiwei… Zhiwei, now that you set yourself against me, I find myself more pained than if all the world saw me as its enemy.

Dijing is warm this spring; the wind is pleasant and the sun bright. How are the sights beyond the Great Wall…”

The weather had been beautiful. A large, leafy banyan towered above and lent its shadow to the earth. She had stood there, hands clasped behind her back as she called out: “Call His Highness Prince Chu and tell him to come here.”[2]

He had went. No matter where they stood, he would never turn away her invitation.

The tea had been delicious, her hands soft and delicate, and her words as sharp as a blade. He finally understood her unwillingness to bend her knee, and still he tried to smother his heart and deceive himself.

“No talk of advantage or disadvantage, no discussion of the future. Speak just of the heart. Your heart.”

“My heart is where it ought to be. Perhaps one day when the rivers and seas are overturned, my heart will be overturned as well.”

“Zhiwei, resign from office and return to the Qiu Mansion… in the future, you will be mine…”

“Prince Chu Ning Yi does not pass!”

[1] [Feng Zhiwei’s secret meeting with Shao Ning, ambushed by Ning Yi]

[2] [Crisis in the Academy, before leaving for South Sea]