Purely by Accident – Chapter 39
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When I woke up the next morning, Chu Feichen was lying on her side with her back to me. Her breathing was smooth and even, and she seemed to be fast asleep.
But I was very certain that she was awake, or at least, had woken up at some point before this, because she was neatly dressed in her undershirt and under-trousers. Only her long hair still hung loose across the pillow, revealing the snow-white skin at the back of her neck.
I looked down at my own completely naked form and my empty arms, and felt quite, quite forlorn. Like a not-particularly-scrupulous patron of a brothel, Chu Feichen had stolen my maidenhood from me, then quite matter-of-factly put her clothes back on and left me without a backward glance. Well… all right, strictly speaking, it was only her maidenhood that had been taken last night, and Chu Feichen herself was still lying right beside me, but — but — but still — how could she go and put her clothes back on without so much as waiting for me to wake up?
So I rolled over and gathered her into my arms, then leaned forward and bit the back of her neck very gently. She was very, very delicious; it set my senses all aflutter.
Chu Feichen made an adorable, grumbling sort of noise through her nose. She leaned back, rubbing her head against my shoulder. Then in a soft, languorous voice that still sounded a little drowsy, she said, ‘Mm… Zisong?’
Good girl! I adjusted her position so that she was lying against me as comfortably as possible, and said softly, ‘Are you still sleepy? Should we stay in bed a little while longer?’
She didn’t respond immediately. After a few moments’ dawdling, she turned around and buried her head in my shoulder. Putting an arm around my waist, she murmured in the charmingly spoiled tones of a pampered child, ‘I’m tired…’
Oh, how could her voice not wind tenderly about my ears; how could it not make my heart melt?
‘Then sleep a little longer,’ I whispered, making my voice even softer. ‘Good girl. I’ll hold you. Sleep a little while longer.’
‘Don’t want to… can’t sleep…’ Her head was still buried in my shoulder, and every breath she let out fell gently against my throat. When she spoke, each movement of those tender lips brushed against my skin. With a complete and utter lack of self-control, those sensations sent your besotted bandit chief’s heart — which had finally gained its dearest desire last night — all aflutter again.
But Chu Feichen still sounded a little dazed, as if only half-awake. Experimentally I patted her on the shoulder and asked cautiously, ‘Then why don’t we get out of bed? Are you hungry?’
Still she shook her head.
Oh, what a difficult girl she was. Unable to help a smile, I tilted up her chin and kissed her lightly on the lips. ‘Then, princess, what would you like to do?’
Chu Feichen’s eyelashes fluttered a few times, then slowly she opened her eyes. It was as if the first spring breeze was sweeping across the land, as if sunlight had finally pierced through a glacier. Drawn irresistibly forward, I bent and kissed each of her eyes. ‘Good morning, my lady wife,’ I said, my smile broadening even more.
Her eyes were a little clouded over from sleep, but a flush still spread over her face. ‘You cad,’ she pouted.
Oh? It was time to settle our scores from last night, was it? I decided to launch a pre-emptive strike. Clasping an arm around Chu Feichen’s waist, I said, ‘Princess, princess, how could you be so churlish? What kind of woman sleeps with another woman, then simply rolls over and puts her clothes back on?’
Chu Feichen was now completely wide awake. She looked me steadily in the eye for a few long moments, then allowed her gaze to travel downwards to my chest. Her eyes lingered there, roving left, then right. A small, cryptic smile drifted across her lips.
I might be thick-skinned, but I was definitely not in the habit of exposing my body to the gaze of curious spectators. A faint chill came over your suddenly self-conscious bandit chief’s normally shy, retiring bosom.
Luckily, Chu Feichen turned away at that very moment. ‘Just look at the time,’ she asked, caressing my ear. ‘Don’t you need to be at the Hanlin Academy today?’
I luxuriated in her touch, my eyes half-closing. ‘The Hanlin Academy is where my ambition lies; my lady’s lap is where my heart lies. Alas, that I have not the power of being in two places at once; thus do I forsake the Hanlin Academy and cleave to my lady’s lap.’
She laughed then, soundlessly. She looked lovely enough to eclipse the moon itself and put the prettiest flowers to shame;[1] to make fish forget how to swim and birds forget how to fly.[2] Her caresses on my ear became even more gentle . ‘The Grand Secretary of the Zhonghe Hall was just praising you to me. He told me how hard-working you were, and how eager to learn, and called you a most humble and modest young man. But look at you now — do you think you live up to any of those compliments?’
I shook my head self-deprecatingly, but inwardly I was patting myself on the back over the precious crumb of information I’d so fortuitously gleaned. ‘You went to the Hanlin Academy and asked after me?’ I said, with the sunniest of smiles.
My darling girl began to look ill at ease. Her eyes flitted about the room for a while before finally fixing themselves on me in a vicious glare. ‘I’m not as petty or heartless as some people,’ she said.
My smile became even brighter. ‘Chu Feichen, you love me, don’t you? You really do love me.’
Her hand descended from my ear and prodded my nose gently. ‘You’re heartless and bad-tempered, and good at concealing it too,’ she said, her voice so soft it sounded almost like a sigh. ‘Why, you managed to keep it all hidden from me for such a long time, I was completely taken in.’
A litany of grievances fell from her lips, but the look in her eyes was so tender I could have wrapped myself in it. My heart leaped, and I leaned over to kiss her, only to be stopped in my tracks when her finger slid further downwards and pressed against my lips. Her expression turned lofty. ‘Isn’t it past time you gave me an explanation as to why you and that childhood friend of yours spent a whole afternoon snowgazing hand in hand and side by side?’
I blinked at her, my conscience prickling. ‘We weren’t holding hands.’
‘Oh?’ Chu Feichen arched an eyebrow, propping her head up with her free hand. Her long hair cascaded over my shoulder. The finger she had placed against my lips continued its downward journey, gliding over my chin and throat and coming to a gradual halt between my breasts. Her touch was light, her fingertip faintly cool. The sensation made me shiver in the most pathetic fashion.
Chu Feichen smiled and spread her fingers to cup one of my breasts, even giving it a wicked little squeeze into the bargain. ‘No snowgazing side by side with him either.’
My throat tightened once, then again, so it was some time before I managed to force out the next few syllables. ‘As… you… command…’
Her smile broadened with satisfaction. She lay back down, putting her head on my shoulder — then her brows knitted together in a tiny frown.
I kissed her on the cheek. ‘What’s wrong?’ I asked. ‘Does something hurt?’
A rare flash of embarrassment crossed Chu Feichen’s face. She nibbled at my collarbone with her delicate little teeth. ‘Next time, you try it,’ she said, in a voice so low it was barely perceptible.
Ah. There were consequences to a romp between the sheets; one must exercise restraint when indulging in the pleasures of the flesh.
I reached down and began massaging her belly. She closed her eyes lazily as my ministrations began to take effect. ‘It’s better if I continue to handle these things,’ I told her very earnestly. ‘After all, this is an exercise that calls for a very high degree of both stamina and skill.’
‘Do you really think you’re that skilled?’ said Chu Feichen, then her eyes shot open. ‘Wait. How did you manage to become so skilled?’
What?
I could see the trap that lay across this conversational path. Clever bandit chief that I was, I detoured right around it by changing the subject. ‘You had so much to drink last night at the banquet,’ I said. ‘Does your head ache at all?’
My darling girl let out a faint ‘hmph’ through her nose and shook her head, clearly electing not to pursue her earlier line of enquiry any further. Then, as if the thought had occurred to her suddenly, she bit her lip and asked hesitantly, ‘Zisong… do you mind so very much about Zhao Yishu?’
My hand, still resting on her stomach, shook slightly. I managed to tug my lips into the semblance of a smile. ‘Oh? Was there something?’
Chu Feichen gave a sigh so low I could barely hear it. Then she nudged my shoulder downwards so that I was lying on my back, and rearranged herself on top of me. She rubbed her nose affectionately against mine. ‘I would have had to tell you at some point,’ she said, her eyes turning distant.
I clasped her tightly to me, trying to assuage that nameless sense of suffocation that rose up in my chest, and said, ‘Mm.’
Looking deep into my eyes, she reached out and began tracing the contours of my face with one finger. ‘The stories people tell… there’s some truth to them, but Zhao Yishu and I met long before my father made him the commander of my personal guard.’
Her voice flowed on, steady and even. I held her, feeling as if I were listening to some faraway tale whose details had become indistinct through distance and time.
The Emperor of Yan had an eldest daughter, born of his empress,[3] named Chu Feichen. The Vice-Minister of Personnel had an eldest son, named Zhao Yishu. Chu Feichen and Zhao Yishu first met on the day of the empress’ — that is to say, Chu Feichen’s mother’s — funeral. Chu Feichen was ten that year, and Zhao Yishu thirteen.
Chu Feichen had always been a good, clever child. Her mother, the Jingxian Empress, was the kindest, sweetest woman in all the realm. Ever since Chu Feichen had been very, very little, her mother would wrap her arms around Chu Feichen’s tiny form, and tell her in the softest, gentlest voice, ‘Chen’er, as a princess, you must be brave and strong.’
And so it went on.
‘Chen’er, don’t cry. The best thing you can do after falling down is to get up again. Come, show mother where it hurts, and I’ll rub it better for you.’
‘Chen’er, don’t cry. Your sister is younger than you, so you should let her have her way every now and then.’
‘Chen’er, don’t cry. Your little parrot has become a star in the sky. Look carefully, and you’ll be able to see it.’
‘Chen’er, don’t cry, don’t cry…’
Chu Feichen had always been a good, clever child, so she became used to not crying. But no one had ever told her what she should do when her mother, too, became a star in the sky. Should she cry, or should she not?
On the day of the funeral, the whole palace was draped in mourning white. Grief filled the air; the world seemed to have turned upside down. Chu Feichen hid herself away in a corner of the palace grounds, staring blankly at nothing. Mother, Chen’er is very sad, she thought. What should I do?
That was when Zhao Yishu made his appearance.
He was only a boy of thirteen, but his features already hinted at the handsome man he would become. He stood in front of her, clad in mourning clothes, and bent down slightly. His graceful eyebrows drew into a frown. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked her, his voice full of concern. ‘Why are you crying?’
Chu Feichen rubbed a hand across her eyes, only to discover that they were already blurry with tears. But still she tried her best to maintain some semblance of dignity. ‘Such insolence!’ she chided. ‘I would never cry. My lady mother always said, as a princess, I should never, ever cry.’
The boy gave her a warm, indulgent smile. ‘All right. If you say you aren’t crying, then you aren’t.’
She looked up into a face handsomer than all the young sons of nobility she had ever seen. Not even the flowers blooming around them could outshine his smile. As she stared up at him, she quite forgot to reply.
He reached out and wiped the tears from her face. ‘In future,’ he said, as if making a solemn vow, ‘I’m going to find my way to your side, so I can make sure you never need to cry again.’
She did not understand the look in his eyes, but for some reason, it set her heart at ease.
The next time Chu Feichen saw Zhao Yishu was in the arena that had been set up for the imperial military examination. Chu Feichen was thirteen that year, and Zhao Yishu sixteen.
From her seat on the viewing platform, she watched as the distant, white-clad figure wove gracefully through the ranks of the other competitors, wielding his spear; he cut a dashing figure. When his final opponent slumped onto the floor of the arena, he stood with his back to the light and squinted up at the viewing platform. It was crowded with spectators, but his eyes fixed upon her immediately. He smiled then, that same warm, indulgent smile he’d given her all those years ago in the palace grounds, and her heart suddenly skipped a beat.
His battlefield victories brought him fame, and he became known throughout the realm as a young hero. The year he stepped down from active duty in the army and was elevated to the position of commander of the imperial guard, Zhao Yishu was nineteen, and Chu Feichen sixteen.
In the evenings, the always-proper, always-gentlemanly Commander Zhao would often climb over the wall surrounding the Eldest Princess’ quarters, and leave some token on her windowsill: a book of verses perhaps, or a kite, or a maple leaf. Every now and then she would catch him in the act, and there would be a smile on her face as she asked, ‘I find it astonishing that someone seems able to come and go from my quarters as they please. Aren’t you being a little remiss in your duties, my lord commander?’
He would smile too, and say, ‘Some admirer drawn here by Your Highness’ beauty, no doubt. Your humble servant has not the heart to chastise so dedicated a swain.’
He was such a handsome man, and he said these romantic things as if they were so perfectly natural, that it always brought a flush to her lovely face.
The next two years passed swiftly.
One by one, her younger sisters were married, and her father said to her, ‘Chen’er, you’re grown up now, and soon I’ll have to let you leave my side. Is there any young nobleman who meets with your fancy? That son of Vice-Minister Zhao’s looks rather promising to me.’
Chu Feichen looked down demurely, and felt sweetness welling up in her heart.
From then on, Commander Zhao no longer needed to climb over walls. Instead, he could spend most of every day in the courtyard that lay at the centre of the princess’ quarters, directing her personal guards as they trained with sabre and spear. Every time he saw her, he would fling a smile her way, as warm and indulgent as ever.
One day, he took both of her hands in his. They were trembling slightly, even though they were never less than perfectly steady when gripping the hilt of a sword or the haft of a spear. ‘Feichen,’ he said, his voice low, ‘shall I ask His Majesty for your hand in marriage tomorrow?’
Feichen. He’d called her Feichen. She felt as though a thousand gentle spring breezes were gliding across her heart, and her eyes brightened. In a voice so soft it sounded almost like a sigh, she murmured, ‘Such insolence…’
If their story had ended there, if there had been no unexpected twist, then it would have been an unadulteratedly happy ending for a pair of childhood sweethearts. But Heaven loves its jests, and delights in sprinkling a few drops of melodrama on the affairs of mortals just before the dust settles, turning one’s world upside down.
The next day, Zhao Yishu did, as he promised, ask the emperor for his daughter’s hand in marriage before the entire court. However, the bride he named was not Chu Feichen, but the Third Princess Chu Feiyu.
When she heard the news, Chu Feichen sat by her windowsill that whole night, staring into the darkness. And then, as the first rays of the sun began filtering in through the window, she thought, Zhao Yishu, you were never the one for me after all. Why should I grieve over you? Why should I let myself waste away because of you?
The princess said that last sentence lightly enough, but my heart still ached for her. I tightened my arm around her waist and kissed her forehead. ‘That scoundrel Zhao Yishu,’ I declared, my brow furrowing. ‘He doesn’t know a good thing when he sees one!’
The princess smiled and gave my earlobe a little pinch. ‘If he did, then you —’ she paused for a moment, as if rearranging her words — ‘then how would you have become prince consort?’
I pouted. ‘What made him change his mind so suddenly?’
The princess’ expression became grave. She was silent for a moment, then she said, ‘You know that Huairen is father’s only son?’
I nodded.
‘Feiyu’s mother, the Noble Consort Wang, is the younger sister of Grand Marshal Wang Zhuoyi. For all of recorded history, whenever the imperial guard who defend the capital and the armies stationed in the provinces beyond it fall under the control of the same faction, it can only mean one thing.’
My heart began to pound. ‘A coup?’ I blurted out.
Chu Feichen nodded and nestled her head on my shoulder, looking unutterably weary.
‘But Zhao Yishu really doesn’t seem like the treasonous sort,’ I mused doubtfully.
‘He might not be,’ said the princess slowly. ‘But his father, Vice-Minister Zhao, harbours ambitions beyond his station.’
Ah. So that’s how it was.
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Footnotes:
- In Chinese, the chengyu 闭月羞花, literally ‘eclipse moon and shame flowers’. The chengyu is used to describe extremely beautiful women, and is associated with two of the Four Great Beauties of ancient China, Diaochan and Noble Consort Yang Yuhuan. Diaochan’s beauty was said to be so great that the moon would hide itself away in embarrassment to avoid being compared to her. Noble Consort Yang was said to be so lovely that flowers would droop their heads in shame as she passed. [return to text]
- In Chinese, the chengyu 沈鱼落雁, literally ‘fish sink and wild geese fall’. The chengyu is also used to describe extremely beautiful women, and is associated with the other two of the Four Great Beauties of ancient China, Xi Shi and Wang Zhaojun. Xi Shi was said to be so beautiful that, upon seeing her reflection in the water, fish would forget how to swim and sink beneath the surface. Wang Zhaojun was said to be so lovely that when a flock of wild geese caught sight of her, they immediately forgot to flap their wings and fell to the ground. [return to text]
- In Chinese, 嫡. This refers to a man’s principal wife and his children with her. This is contrasted with 庶, which refers to a man’s concubines and his children with them. The concepts of 嫡 and 庶 should not be confused with those of legitimacy and illegitimacy. Children born of a concubine are legitimate, though they are typically regarded as lesser for the purposes of inheritance, family-based decision-making, and participation in family-based ceremonies. [return to text]
douqi 随笔 