The Rise of Phoenixes

Translator: Aristophaneso

She could vaguely hear Chunyu Meng mumbling into the hole. “One person one cup. If you drink anymore, you’ll pass out for three days. Give me back the rest.”

“...”

Feng Zhiwei’s head ached and anger grew in her heart. Chunyu Meng you bastard! Why didn’t you say anything sooner!

She smiled coldly and filled the empty bottle with dirt from the walls. She tossed the bottle back through the hole and then blocked the entrance with a chair, paying no mind to Chunyu Meng’s mourning wails.

Even these small movements had an effect, and the alcohol rushed to her head. Stars danced before her eyes, and she held her head as she turned from the wall. Suddenly, a warm stream ran through her body; something like a cold breath soon followed, and the two streams intertwined as they swept through her body. Her flushed body cooled, and her muscles relaxed and lost strength. Her legs buckled, and she fell forward.

She fell against cool and smooth silk, and the faint smells of herbs filled her nose.

Feng Zhiwei struggled to push herself upright, and had no desire to share a bed with another person. As she tried to manoeuvre her arms, she blearily wondered at Gu Nanyi’s liquor capacity. He’d also drank over half of that bottle; how could he still be so steady and stable ...

Suddenly, the darkness before her eyes fled, and moonlight shone down on her face. Feng Zhiwei looked up. Gu Nanyi had tossed aside his curtained veil.

Clouds covered the moon, and the high window grew dark and night returned, but when this man lifted his curtained veil, a brightness like falling stars shone forth and pulled the eye.

In that moment, Feng Zhiwei was transfixed. His eyes shone brighter than anything she had ever seen, and their ineffable allure filled her mind with images of snow melt from the purest of mountains, gathered from the pristine waters of a snow lotus pond, and she thought of thousand year pearls lost in the treasured depths of the far flung seas.

Perhaps it was the wine, or the musk of the air, but in that moment all the world fell away and there was only this pair of beautiful, bright eyes before her.

Feng Zhiwei’s mind fled, and she saw nothing of the gaze behind the eyes or the expression on Gu Nanyi’s face. She only knew that this man’s face grew close and closer, and heard a deep and warm voice breath warmly into her ear. “It’s hot...”

In that moment, Gu Nanyi’s world was fire, and his body boiled. Without thought, he pulled himself towards relief, and the cold comfort of the body beside him became his life-saving, icy spring.

He reached closer, and the musk of floatingheart flowers wafted forward as he held Feng Zhiwei’s face.

He caressed her face, and peeled away the unnatural texture of her mask and flicked it away, unveiling the icy jade face of the young woman underneath, whose eyes glittered in the night.

Now satisfied with the smooth and cool jade skin, he leaned forward with his burning face...

...

Feng Zhiwei was a frozen statue.

Her mind fled as she failed to process her life’s failures.

The herbal scent filled her, and long eyelashes brushed against her cheek. Gu Nanyi used her face like an ice bag, and caressed her skin with his hands and rubbed his face against hers.

In a dark room, a young woman’s ears lay against a man’s shoulders...

But there was not a trace of romance... If Feng Zhiwei could move, she would weep.

For better or for worse, she’d been born into a noble family, and she’d studied all the ways of a proper lady. It was true that her circumstances had forced her to adapt and suffer, but she had not fallen to the lowly life of a human ice-bag.

Isn’t it just that my face is somewhat cool?

Feng Zhiwei focused, and the cool breath balancing the warm stream began to disappear. Her temperature rose, and her face began to flush.

Gu Nanyi immediately noticed that this cool and soft thing that he had been rubbing his face on was warming, and he let go in disappointment. Still, the uncomfortable burning in his veins persisted, and half thinking, he began to unbutton his clothes.

He began to unbutton the long robe that he always wrapped so tightly around himself.

Even with his extreme drunkenness, his hands moved quickly and steadily. His fingers flew by, and the neck of a grecian god was soon stripped bare before Feng Zhiwei’s eyes. The delicate and artful curves of his collarbones, and the fine lines of his neck filled her view, and perfection untouched by human hands lay itself bare.

...

Feng Zhiwei exploded.

Ancestors! When will you stop torturing me?

She rushed forward, tears in her eyes, struggling to recover that cool breath inside her. She thrust her face forward and pleaded. “Stop undressing, stop. Here, rub me. Rub——”

...

But she moved too quickly, and in her haste knocked Gu Nanyi onto the floor. The alcohol rushed to her head, and the last thing she remembered was dizziness overcoming her and blackness.

In the silence of a small, dark room, a young woman lay on top of a young man as they both floated through the kingdom of alcohol.

The next room over, Chunyu Meng tipped the bottle over his mouth, and only mud and dirt fell onto his head. He thoughtlessly dusted himself as he muttered in disbelief: “They finished it? All of it...?”

“Wake up, wake up ––––”

“Wake up!”

“Bastard! Wake up!”

Voices called out from the distance, and it felt like a world and a sea separated them from her. The unwelcome voices intruded on her dreamless sleep, and Feng Zhiwei fullheartedly ignored them, and hugged her blanket close.

“Pa!”

Something slapped her face, and the stinging pain shocked her eyes open. Darkness filled her eyes, and only after a long moment did she remember where she was. She was lying on the bed in the quiet room. Up above, in the high window, an upside down face peered in.

Feng Zhiwei blinked, and rubbed her face. Suddenly, she was fully awake, and she immediately turned to find her mask. Luckily, the light was dim, and no one could see her clearly.

As she felt around her, her hands fell on the rising “blanket,” the warm and glossy skin...

Feng Zhiwei snatched her hand back as if from a biting snake.

It couldn’t be...

She tried to reassure herself and turned back to look, but just as she had feared, it was the unconscious young master, and she had clearly slept on top of him...

His face was half hidden in the darkness, and he slept quietly. His expression was different from his usual plain faced stoicism, and his brows were furrowed and his lips turned down in a small frown.

She did not know why, but as she looked at his sleeping face, she felt at peace, as if she was sitting beneath a fresh bloomed jade tree in a garden.

Feng Zhiwei’s eyes traced the lines of his face, and after a moment of hesitation, she retrieved the curtained hat and gently covered his face.

She did not want to see, and was not willing to see.

For some matters, ignorance was better.