Chapter 8
Pei Yao worked late that night. Having stayed awake the previous night too, I could not keep my eyes open and fell asleep at some point.
In the darkness, a warm human shape seemed to appear beside me. Half asleep, I opened my eyes and saw black curls like seaweed. I reached to touch them, but someone caught my wrist. A pair of blue eyes flew open, reflecting the moonlight, mesmerizing as a sea spirit from some foreign tale.
Seeing it was me, he paused, unsure whether to release my wrist. After what seemed a long deliberation, he cautiously enclosed my hand in his and held it against his cheek.
The night was quiet enough to hear my own heartbeat. My palm quickly grew damp in his grasp. In the darkness, touch was so sharp that I could count the thin calluses on his hand.
He suddenly released me and rolled onto his back. “Sleep.”
His voice was hoarse. Wondering if he was ill, I leaned over to feel his forehead and found a thin film of sweat. He abruptly turned his head, pressed me back down, and tucked the brocade quilt over me. “Sleep.”
When I woke the next day, the space beside me was empty. The army had already marched. He had left a ring of keys and a note beside my pillow. The keys were to his private storeroom, and I could use any of the gold, silver, silk, and cloth inside. He had also left several covert guards at my disposal.
I traced the blade-like strokes of his handwriting and remained silent for a long time.
With Pei Yao gone, life became lonely. In my aunts’ courtyards stood shrines to Daoist deities and bodhisattvas, incense burning all day. I seemed to glimpse my own coming decades in a single glance, and sighed inwardly.
My aunt occasionally summoned me to keep her company in the palace. She said she liked playing shuanglu with me best because I was the only one who never put on an act.
I was so hopeless at the game that I could not beat her even when I tried my hardest. Unlike those old foxes, I did not need to calculate how many moves it would be respectable to wait before losing.
When my wedding came up, I thanked her of my own accord. “Thank you for helping me out of that predicament, Your Majesty.”
She raised a brow. “Oh? Didn’t you help yourself?”
I smiled obediently. “Minister Yuwen… was there because you arranged it, wasn’t he?”
She smiled. “And you didn’t realize Guo Youzhi was there because I arranged it too?”
Vice Minister Guo?
I was too astonished to speak.
“Silly girl,” she said with a laugh. “Do you think a man who has risen to vice minister could really be a painting fanatic with no control over his tongue?
“Never mind anyone else—take your husband’s grandfather, the Duke of Cheng. He looks so rough, doesn’t he? Yet through all the upheavals of this dynasty, with so many great houses falling overnight, he alone read the situation early, stepped back, and kept himself safe. Don’t mistake him for an ordinary soldier.
“There’s much beneath the surface. Learn.”
I lowered my head, cold sweat prickling. “I understand.”
Just then, His Majesty arrived. Seeing us playing shuanglu, he waved away the formalities and sat down to watch with interest.
After a while, he smiled. “Sanniang resembles Yingniang in her youth even more than Wanniang does. A niece truly takes after her aunt.”
Wanniang was Princess Xingyang. Yingniang was my aunt’s personal name.
Cold sweat ran down my back. I forced a smile. “Princess Xingyang has both Her Majesty’s beauty and Your Majesty’s nobility. She is naturally a celestial beauty. Though I am fortunate enough to resemble my aunt a little, I could never be compared with the princess.”
The emperor laughed and let the subject pass.
My aunt raised her eyes, gave him a knowing look, and curved her lips. When the game ended, she let me leave the palace.
Outside the gates, I finally breathed freely. I resolved not to return without good reason.
But the moment I emerged, the covert guards Pei Yao had left me reported that someone was following us.
I turned into an alley and had the guards conceal themselves, ready for trouble. Then Cui Jiu stepped leisurely from the carriage that had been pursuing ours.
I did not even get out, merely greeting him from inside. “What important business brings you here, Ninth Young Master Cui?”
He bowed apologetically. “I have some questions about painting and calligraphy and hoped to ask for your guidance.”
I pulled down the curtain and sat back. “My little accomplishments are no more than trivial tricks. How could I advise you? Please go home.”
His voice came from outside. “You are a master, Sanniang. How can you call your art trivial tricks? What I don’t understand is why, throughout the five years we have known each other, you hid your ability from me so completely.”
The final words sounded almost sorrowful, full of lingering affection. Qiuying’s expression grew complicated. I could imagine how remarkable the faces of the other servants and guards must be.
Any further entanglement would leave me unable to clear my name even if I jumped into the Yellow River. “I did no such thing,” I said stiffly, wanting to leave at once.
But Cui Jiu seemed possessed. He blocked the carriage. “I cannot accept this! At your wedding, you stole my glory, and I could hardly protest. But my reputation is not yours to trample! I ask you to face me in an open, honorable contest, with the officials as judges. Will you grant me that favor?”
I stared.