Rising Phoenix

An awkward air filled the room and everyone was silent except a confused and frowning Mudan Hua. “Which Prince Chu? The most powerful man in the Imperial Court? Weren’t all the Imperial Presents gifted before you left Dijing? Why would one be sent over such a great distance? And addressed to…”

Her musings came to a screeching halt and her mouth snapped shut as she examined Helian Zheng with a curious eye. The young king turned away, sparing only a few simple words as he left: “Zhiwei, take care of Tsamuttu.”

Without a second glance, he marched outwards and began calling out orders: “You, escort Dama Living Buddha to his quarters. Deliver the gift to the Queen’s Residence in the Back Palace.”

Mudan Hua listened to him go, “murmuring” quietly beside Feng Zhiwei: “My Doggy Ji truly has a generous heart…”

Feng Zhiwei smiled, ignoring her words as she said: “I’ll be taking Tsamuttu, Mudan Hua. If you really trust Dama Living Buddha’s words, don’t have so many children.”

“You think I wanted this?” Mudan Hua snapped, immediately forgetting Prince Chu’s gift. “I was married for 25 years and I only had eight children! The steppe people think that a large family is auspicious and Kuku wanted many children. I did not dare speak of Dama Buddha’s words, so I secretly found a Central Plain’s birth control medicine, but Kuku still found out. He just thought that I didn’t want anymore children so he would secretly change out my medicine or just throw it away, and since the recipe wasn’t perfect to begin with, I still got pregnant.”

“Then the Old King didn’t know that you…”

“I only told him the first half of Dama Living Buddha’s prophecy so he believed that they died because of Jadran’s fate.” Liu Mudan explained, her voice growing quiet. “I didn’t want him to hate Jadran, but I also couldn’t bear hurting him…”

And so you hid the truth from him, shouldering all the pain yourself.

Feng Zhiwei eyed Liu Mudan, somewhat baffled by how much she had coddled her husband. In a certain way, Old King Kuku had been a very lucky man.

“You can go. You don’t need to dawdle here.” Mudan Hua shooed her out the door. “I don’t talk with unsettled people.”

Feng Zhiwei smiled somewhat awkwardly and accepted the dismissal. As they walked back to her residence, she passed Tsamuttu to a wet-nurse and was just bidding Gu Nanyi a goodnight when the man stared into her eyes for a long, serious moment and said: “Don’t cry.”

Feng Zhiwei looked up at him quietly, forcing a weak smile. “Everything is fine, why would I cry?”

“Your heart.” Gu Nanyi replied, pointing at her sternum.

Feng Zhiwei had no response, so she just stood there in the quiet darkness as the cold wind blew around her. The breeze brought a pleasant fragrance that mixed with Gu Nanyi’s pure, fresh smell and the young woman felt her heart grow warm.

After a while, her weak smile relaxed into a more quiet, genuine curve.

Gu Nanyi suddenly reached out, wrapping her in a stiff, awkward hug and stroking her hair and gently patting her back.

He patted her in exactly the same way he patted Gu Zhixiao when he wanted to put her to sleep…

Feng Zhiwei relaxed into his hug, her nose souring even as she held back her laughter. He had never hugged her before, but it was obvious that there was no romance in the gesture, just the care and concern of a friend. To think that he finally understood… it was beautiful.

A peace and tranquility came over the air, as soft and gentle as a serenade.

After a moment, Feng Zhiwei gently pushed herself out of Gu Nanyi’s arms and looked up at his fine jawline. “Nanyi, don’t worry, it’s okay to cry. Everyone cares sometimes, and as long as you can smile again afterwards, everything will be fine.”

Gu Nanyi stared down at her, his reply somehow still catching her by surprise: “If one day I have to cry for someone, I will never be able to smile again.”

Before Feng Zhiwei could react he turned and entered his room, his door clicking shut behind him, sending tremors through Feng Zhiwei’s heart.

Without anyone noticing, Gu Nanyi had truly opened up to the world, little by little. For the first time, he had spoken in a complete sentence and clearly spoken his thoughts.

But the meaning of his words shocked her heart.

The young woman quietly retreated a few steps, her eyes locked onto the closed door. A moment passed and then she sighed into the quiet steppe night.

…

Seven steps from the hallway to the door; seven steps from the door to the hallway.

Feng Zhiwei paced the distance again and again, counting her steps a dozen times.

Everything was quiet, nothing like the powerful family estates in the Central Plains where there were servants waiting at every moment. Feng Zhiwei had always longed for this peace, but now that she had it she found herself unsettled.

Feng Zhiwei looked up at the moon high up in the sky and sighed once more. Finally, the moment could wait no longer and she turned to her door and pushed it open.

An intricate gift basket stood quietly in the center of the room, moon-white with light gold and black edges. Its style was immediately masculine.

Feng Zhiwei lingered by the door before finally walking forward, her steps slow. She ignored the contents of the basket, bending down to pick the whole thing up.

But to her surprise, the basket refused to move. Someone had stuck the basket to the ground.

She cocked a brow — he had ordered Chunyu Meng to fix the basket to the ground so she could not throw it away?

She pulled a little harder, popping the basket from the floor and dislodging a piece of paper.

Feng Zhiwei looked down. The paper had been stuck to the bottom of the basket and only held a few words.

Feng Hao’s birthdate. Information inside.

Feng Zhiwei frowned at the piece of paper, speechless.

Ning Yi… a truly extraordinary mind able to grasp a weakness and seal off all escape.

He knew she would refuse to open the gift, so he had Chunyu Meng glue it to the ground; He knew she would pull the basket and find the paper he had secured at the bottom of the basket; and he knew that once she read those words, she would have to open the gift.

Feng Zhiwei grabbed the paper and shredded it, destroying the words. Only then did she turn back to the basket. The customary fabric knot perched on top of the basket, but the little ornament attached to it made Feng Zhiwei’s eye twitch.

A small golden broom.

The ornament was of intricate design, a long-handled winter broom for sweeping snow. Little bamboo joints were carved along the handle and no detail was spared for the little threads of the brush.

A broom.

The same broom that she had been using when they had first met by the icy lake in Qiu Mansion, the weapon she had used to send her Fifth Aunt to hell.

Feng Zhiwei held the golden broom between her fingers… if she had swallowed her anger and spared her Fifth Aunt, would she have never met him? If they had not met, would everything else have happened?