To Embers We Return — Chapter 6

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As the waistband of her skirt loosened, Bian Jin’s heart constricted. The prospect of the garment slipping off completely left her feeling suddenly vulnerable.

Shen Ni didn’t let that happen, however. Resting one wrist against the curve of Bian Jin’s waist, she reached around Bian Jin’s lower back with delicate fingers and pinched the top of the skirt so perfectly closed that only a fastening made specially to Bian Jin’s measurements could have rivalled her grip.

The window was tightly shut, and the candlelight cast their shifting shadows against the paper screen. Outside, Bian Jin knew, stood the two Lijing officials, who were watching them silently.

‘I’ll carry you over to the bed,’ said Shen Ni, her voice as limpid and soothing as dewdrops slipping slowly through a stand of leaves. ‘Relax, and don’t strain your lower back. That will only over-stress your spine. Put all of your weight on me.’

Bian Jin glanced at the window out of the corner of her eye. Through it, she could make out the two dim figures standing just outside. She hesitated, unsure what to do, but in the end, she obligingly hooked an arm around Shen Ni’s neck.

In the dancing light of the candles, their silhouettes on the window screen drew even closer to each other. An undercurrent of tension seemed to swirl between them.

Shen Ni picked her up easily and carried her to the bed. The creak of the bedframe as they both settled onto it travelled clearly to the listeners outside. The Lijing officials exchanged a glance.

Bian Jin was lying on the bed with Shen Ni practically on top of Bian Jin. Shen Ni propped herself up with one hand against the mattress just by Bian Jin’s head, keeping a little distance between them. Slowly she drew her other hand from under Bian Jin’s lower back. ‘Don’t look at me,’ she said.

Bian Jin eyed her doubtfully.

Shen Ni turned her head so that she was facing the window, and let out a soft, seductive sigh.

It was a low, repressed noise, but it sounded titillating enough in the quiet of the night, and it reached the Lijing officials’ ears with perfectly clarity. The shorter official started slightly and let out an uneasy cough. ‘Let’s go,’ she said, a light flush rising to her cheeks.

The taller official strode swiftly after her. As their footsteps faded into the distance, the only sound that could be heard outside was the night wind whistling past the walkways that ran through the grounds.

‘They’re gone.’ Shen Ni turned back from the window, and her eyes settled on the round, red platter that sat on the low table next to the bed. It held a selection of the dried fruits and nuts that had been served to their wedding guests. The lamps had been switched off, and the room was illuminated only by the hazy glow of the candles. It fell on their bridal robes, the red coverlet on which they lay, the lowered bed-curtains…

Shen Ni was suddenly reminded that this was her wedding night, hers and Bian Jin’s.

‘We can get up now,’ said Bian Jin, who was still lying beneath Shen Ni, with Shen Ni’s arms on either side of her. She had turned her face aside, and was looking at the wall. Shen Ni’s gaze roamed over Bian Jin’s delicately curled eyelashes; her elegant throat, graceful as an arc of pure white jade; the slender waist wrapped in the fine pale silk of her undershirt.^[1] The soft curve of her chest rose and fell gently with each breath.

The tone in which she’d addressed Shen Ni was so devoid of emotion that it could have belonged to some enlightened monk who had cast away all earthly desires. It seemed to melt into the tranquility of the night.

Shen Ni climbed off her shijie, and Bian Jin sat up. The skin of Shen Ni’s neck still prickled with a little heat where Bian Jin’s arm had touched her earlier. When she looked at Bian Jin again, her shijie seemed perfectly calm, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The tips of her ears, however, were flushed bright red.

Something flickered in the depths of Shen Ni’s eyes. Outwardly, her shijie might appear as cool and aloof as an iceberg, but she wasn’t completely without feeling.

After their — quite literal — production earlier, a few strands of hair had escaped from Bian Jin’s coiffure. Shen Ni tried not to stare; she rarely saw Bian Jin in any sort of disarray.

The bedchamber was quiet. Now that they had managed to dupe the Lijing officials into leaving, the two sect-sisters, estranged for so long, found that they had nothing to say to each other.

Shen Ni picked up one of the cups of nuptial wine^[2] and brought it to her nose. The contents smelled rich and fragrant, with an edge to it that spoke of its potency. She held the cup out to Bian Jin. ‘This is baijiu.^[3] It will help you sleep.’

It had been a long time since Bian Jin had touched any strong drink. But back when she’d been fighting in Yanluo, she and her troops had often relied on it to ward off the bitter cold.

Since this was nuptial wine, there were two cups of it — a matched pair. By tradition, she and Shen Ni, as newly wedded wives, should have partaken of it together with their arms entwined. But when she recalled how she’d felt when Shen Ni had picked her up, and when Shen Ni had been lying on top of her, Bian Jin had felt apprehensive even at taking the cup from Shen Ni’s hand — much less the thought of linking arms with her.

Luckily, Shen Ni downed her wine in a single swift gulp, leaving no time for Bian Jin to feel conflicted. Bian Jin tossed back her own cup as well.

The wine was potent; Shen Ni narrowed her eyes with distaste against the burning sensation as she swallowed. Bian Jin, however, looked as unruffled as if all she’d drunk was a cup of cool water.

Bian Jin set her empty cup down on the table next to the bed. It was then that she saw a red-lacquered box next to the round platter with the fruits and nuts.

‘What does this hold?’ she asked curiously.

‘It’s best for you not to know, shijie,’ Shen Ni told her.

That was precisely the kind of provocation Bian Jin was least able to resist. She opened the box. Inside was a collection of oddly-shaped objects she’d never seen before. There was also a sheet of paper containing what she presumed were instructions, but she couldn’t make head or tail of them either.

‘What are these for?’ she asked.

‘To spice things up in the bedroom,’ said Shen Ni.

Bian Jin stared at the box in nonplussed silence, then slammed the lid shut and jerked her head away sharply.

Shen Ni took a moment to admire the rare sight of sheer panic on her shijie’s face. ‘I did say it was best for you not to know, shijie.’

‘How was I to know what, what was inside?’ said Bian Jin tightly, trying to keep her voice composed. ‘What is something like that doing here?’

‘Most people consider it essential equipment for a wedding night, that’s all,’ said Shen Ni.

Bian Jin fell silent again. It was true, of course, that the wedding night was an occasion on which the newly married couple were expected to take the fullest pleasure in each other. With that in mind, having… tools available for enhancing that pleasure made perfect sense.

Her face, however, was still burning uncontrollably.

Shen Ni observed this with interest. Six years ago, when she and Bian Jin parted ways, Shen Ni had been absolutely sure that Bian Jin had never been in love before — had, indeed, never experienced anything that even remotely resembled romantic attraction. Suitors had come to Shuangji Hall with irritating frequency to ask for Bian Jin’s hand in marriage, but she’d turned all of them down in no uncertain terms. Bian Jin had had an endless stream of admirers, but she’d never given any of them so much as a second glance — including Shen Ni herself, when she’d made that one-sided confession.

Now, six years later, Shen Ni was equally sure that her shijie had gained no experience at all in that regard. The very sight of the box’s contents had embarrassed her, that was plain to see. It was enough for Shen Ni to be certain that Bian Jin had remained completely innocent of any romantic entanglements in the intervening years. In that respect, she was still the dashijie Shen Ni knew well.

When it came to leading armies and despatching the empire’s foes, Bian Jin was as implacable as the King of Hell^[4] himself, but in matters of the heart, she remained touchingly naive. That was partly to do with her solitary, reserved nature, partly with her phobia of being physically close to other people, Shen Ni thought. Even catching a whiff of someone else’s smell would make her momentarily dizzy; it was difficult to imagine her lost in the throes of passion, drenched completely in her lover’s scent.

Although Bian Jin had shut the box, the memory of its contents and the strange notions and sensations it had roused were still playing across her mind. She couldn’t share a bed with Shen Ni like this.

Bian Jin picked up a pillow and blanket from the bed. ‘You sleep on the bed,’ she told Shen Ni. ‘I’ll sleep on the floor.’

The pillows and blankets were a matched pair, embroidered with mandarin ducks. Shen Ni watched without comment as her shijie separated them most cruelly. Silently she took the bedding from Bian Jin and laid it out on the floor, then slipped under the blanket herself.

‘Shijie, it’s the middle of winter, and you’re still recovering from your wounds,’ she said. ‘How could I let you sleep on the floor? Let me do it instead.’

Bian Jin was about to object, but Shen Ni — quite without compunction — had already begun undressing. She’s still as uninhibited as ever, Bian Jin muttered to herself in frustration, and averted her eyes.

The candles had been dimmed. The chill of the wintry night began seeping slowly into their bridal chamber, which should have been scorching hot with passion.

The sound of the rising wind and snow grew louder outside; Shen Ni was still undressing slowly. Bian Jin rolled over in bed, turning her face to the wall for fear that she might accidentally glimpse her shimei.

‘Your jade core has been badly damaged,’ said Shen Ni, as she folded up her skirt neatly. ‘And the temporary spine I’ve just installed is suitable only for everyday purposes. I’m already working on your real cybernetic spine, but it’s going to take me a full month to finish it. Before I get you fitted with that, it’s vital that you not exert yourself, otherwise you’ll only make your injuries worse. Many of our sect-siblings still care about you, shijie. And now that you’ve lost three years’ worth of memories, they would no doubt accuse me of being heartless if I let you leave this house to fend for yourself. So please stay here for the time being, where you can recuperate in peace. We’ll remain married for two years. After two years, I’ll have restored your jade core to its full functionality. Then I’ll petition the emperor to allow us to divorce, and we can go our separate ways.’

Bian Jin was still lying with her back to Shen Ni. After a few moments of silence, she finally said, ‘All right.’

‘We were married by the emperor’s decree,’ Shen Ni went on, ‘so if we appear more distant than other spouses, that would open us up to accusations of dishonouring Her Majesty’s will. We’ll have to put on a show in public, but there’s no need to keep up the pretence in private. Let’s agree on a few simple rules. Although we’re married, neither of us is expected to perform our marital duties in the bedchamber, nor will we overstep each other’s boundaries when it comes to matters of intimacy. How does that sound to you?’

‘All right,’ came Bian Jin’s voice again.

‘I was too young and naive six years ago, shijie,’ Shen Ni added, ‘and I mistook my dependence on you for romantic love. Since we parted, I’ve had a few lovers, and I’ve put that episode firmly behind me. Now that we’ve been compelled to marry, and I still need to repair your body, we’ll have to share a room for the time being. But rest easy, shijie. My feelings for you are entirely those of a sect-sister — nothing more.’

All that talk of her having had a few lovers before was made-up nonsense on Shen Ni’s part, of course. She simply wanted to sound as nonchalant as possible and to make her little speech more believable. Perhaps this would help Bian Jin feel more at ease around her.

This time, Bian Jin’s silence was longer than it had been before. Shen Ni thought she heard an almost imperceptible murmur from her shijie, then Bian Jin said softly, ‘I understand.’

***

Author’s Note:

Q: Which of the following isn’t a massive red flag?

1. We’ll stay married for two years; after that, we’ll divorce amicably.

2. Neither of us is expected to perform our marital duties; we won’t overstep each other’s boundaries.

3. I’ve had a few lovers; I’ve put my feelings for you behind me; I see you as a sect-sister, nothing more.

4. Etc.

Little Fox Shen: You might as well stitch my identity card number on your banner right now ^_^

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Footnotes:

In the original text, 腰若流纨素 (pinyin: yao ruo liu wan su). This is a line from ‘A Peacock Flying Southeast’ (孔雀东南飞, pinyin: kongque dongnan fei), a poem written by an anonymous poet at the end of the Han Dynasty. The poem tells the tragic love story of Jiao Zhongqing and his wife Liu Lanzhi, who were deeply in love but ultimately driven apart by Jiao Zhongqing’s mother. After the breakup of their marriage, Liu Lanzhi was forced by her brother to marry another man. Both Liu Lanzhi and Jiao Zhongqing committed suicide in protest. This particular line is taken from a section of the poem which describes Liu Lanzhi’s dress and appearance. ^{[return to text]}
In the original text, 合欢酒 (pinyin: hehuan jiu). A traditional Chinese wedding ceremonial rite where the newly married couple interlinks their arms to drink from a matching pair of cups. While the word ‘wine’ in English technically refers to an alcoholic drink made from fermented fruit (typically grapes), the corresponding Chinese word, 酒 (pinyin: jiu), has a much broader meaning and refers to any kind of alcoholic drink regardless of its core ingredient or mode of production. ^{[return to text]}
In Chinese, 白酒, a clear liquor of Chinese origin typically distilled from fermented sorghum. The term used in the original text is 烈酒 (pinyin: liejiu), which refers to distilled beverages generally. In English, however, it would be odd for Shen Ni simply to refer to it as a ‘liquor’ or ‘spirit’ without being more specific. I’ve therefore chosen to specify baijiu here, because it is the one most likely to be available in a Tang Dynasty-inspired setting. ^{[return to text]}
In the original text, 阎王 (pinyin: yan wang). In Chinese mythology, the god of death and the ruler and judge of the underworld. ^{[return to text]}