Rising Phoenix

Whether anyone actually got any rest that night, no one could say, but bodies lay breathing calmly, and when they opened their eyes, their gaze was bright and clear.

The night had not been calm. In the depths of darkness, as people lay exhaustion lay heavily on every brow, a strange wind had blown through the yard walls. Feng Zhiwei’s eyes had opened, and though Helian Zheng had not stirred beside her, his fingers tightened around the corner of her quilt.

But gradually the sun dawned and the clear bugle called out overhead, ushering in with the first beams of the spring sun a new day for a new Shunyi King.

Helian Zheng slowly sat up and called out quietly: “What will happen today?”

“Today.” Feng Zhiwei began, sitting crosslegged with her long hair draped around her like flowing water, a small, dazzling smile on her lips.

“Everyone will have their place, and sentences will be passed down. New blood will be ushered in, and dying blood will be cast out. The old and the ancient will be swept clean and the new and fresh will be brought in. Schemers will fall by their schemes, and traps will be sprung on those who set them.”

It was a sunny day, brilliant and glorious and brooking no evil.

The coronation ceremony was set on the grassland in front of King’s Court. A platform and been erected and the various decorated tents already set. Ten thousand soldiers in the King’s Army patrolled in a ten mile, so many red-armored guards on watch.

Blue Bird, White Deer, and Fire Fox sat closest to the King’s place, and in every direction basins the size of bathtubs stood boiling and cooking delicious lamb meat. Servants scooped out their treasure with long claws and cut them into huge head-sized pieces with great war blades. All manners of spices sat in huge wooden bowls and were mixed in with the enticing scent of meat and fire and smoke. Dish after dish was brought out to the tables for the patriarchs and nobility, and liquor flowed freely alongside the fresh wind, sending out an intoxicating breeze for miles across the steppes.

People had come from near and far in their most beautiful clothing, and there was singing and dancing and music and song. The blossoms of so many flowery dresses dotted the fresh green grass.

In the back palace, Feng Zhiwei set the Seven Diamond Golden Crown on Helian Zheng’s head. She stepped back and admired the handsome, heroic man before her, dressed in his long golden robes trimmed in black with his colorful jade waist-band and his ceremonial blade. “Far better than when we first met.”

“You have yet to discover how truly good I am.” Helian Zheng bragged easily. He turned to Feng Zhiwei and eyed her plain black dress and simple silver waist. “Why haven’t you changed?”

“King’s Court has prepared a red dress, but I am still in mourning.” Feng Zhiwei replied calmly, taking the king’s arm and leading him outside. “And… I may not need to change.”

Helian Zheng turned to examined her but said nothing more. As soon as they passed through the door, Medora approached, calling out “Ah-Ja, let me come with you!” and taking up his other arm.

Helian Zheng gently pushed the woman back and eyed her red dress and golden waistband; it was flaming scarlet and decked with agates and ambers in a startling resemblance to the Queen’s formal dress. Helian Zheng was already unhappy at missing out on Feng Zhiwei in steppe queen attire, and so when he saw what Medora was wearing a frown immediately crossed his lips.

“Aunt Medora.” He called out in warning. “You can accompany my queen mother, but you cannot wear that dress or else people will misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand what?” Medora replied with a look of confusion on her face.

The young woman was clearly hoping for just such a misunderstanding. Feng Zhiwei smiled, her eyes glancing down at Medora’s tight grasp on Helian Zheng’s waistband.

“You know what.” Helian Zheng retorted, pulling the woman’s hand away.

“My Queen.” Medora turned and latched onto Feng Zhiwei’s waistband, pleading. “This is a new dress I made just for the coronation. I spent an entire month on it, do I really have to take it off?”

Feng Zhiwei stared at her pleading face and could not help but recall her arrogance when they first met, and an amused chuckle bubbled forth.

Though she laughed, Medora still spotted the steely glint flashing in her eyes and shivered, letting go of her waistband.

Helian Zheng immediately took Feng Zhiwei’s hand and led her away. As Medora made to follow, Mudan Hua reached up and clasped her hand around the woman’s shoulder, saying: “Come, I have some good news for you.”

Moments later, Feng Zhiwei could hear Medora’s high pitched cry of anger and disbelief.

Feng Zhiwei smiled cheerfully, signaling the nearby Zong Chen before accompanying Helian Zheng away.

Just as they were reaching the final gate, however, a team of boy lamas darted over and blocked Feng Zhiwei’s path.

“Dama Ala requests that you not attend the ceremony.”

“What?” Helian Zheng spat, his face falling.

“Dama Ala says that if you truly love the steppes as you say, do not cloud the King’s auspicious day and this great ceremony. The harm it will cause the king will be most great.” The boy lama bowed as he recited the Dama’s words. “King, Ala says that if she attends, he will not.”

“Then he won’t.” Helian Zheng immediately replied. “I don’t believe that the coronation ceremony cannot function without the Living Buddha’s prayers!”

“King!” The various approaching patriarchs cried out in shock.

“Tengri’s will guides the Dama Ala, and no Steppe King can be born without Father Ala’s presence!” Blue Bear Hotega exclaimed, falling to one knee as he beseeched Helian Zheng. “This is no longer a fight over her queenship, it is just a ceremony. Dama Ala has already compromised, please do not provoke him further!”

“King! A coronation without the Living Buddha will not be acknowledged by the people!”

“The confirmation of the Queen can be held on another day; the coronation is too important!”

A clamor of voices fell over each other in their eager and anxious rush, and a few hands surreptitiously pulled on Feng Zhiwei’s sleeve, begging her to excuse herself.”

“Your Living Buddha has insisted I not attend.” Feng Zhiwei finally spoke, her voice calm. “Everyone has heard.”

Every head nodded, all of them somewhat confused.

“Then I will not go.” She said casually, turning away. “I must ask the good sirs to protect the King.”

“Zhiwei…” Helian Zheng called out after her but Feng Zhiwei strode away without looking back. To the side, the Dama Living Buddha’s team had already begun carrying his ceremonial instruments out to the yard.

Dama sat on his sedan chair and appeared even weaker than the previous day. He sat in a quiet slump, his golden sleeves fluttering powerlessly in the wind. As he passed Feng Zhiwei, his eyes flicking to her face, she smiled and mouthed something at him