The smile quickly disappeared, flashing for a moment like the brief flowering of an epiphyllum before wilting away and dissipating into the empty loneliness of the palace room. He pulled Feng Zhiwei close, taking off the inner layer of her dress and leaving only the moon white underwear beneath. Shifting her, he propped her head on his arm and spoke, his tone light: “Rather fortunate... otherwise, if you had seduced me into doing something inappropriate in Mother Concubine’s palace, then that would truly have been a crime.”
He spoke as if she had made a move on him. Although Feng Zhiwei could still speak, her anger choked her voice, and she swore to herself that, in the future, even if he lay in front of her dying, she would calmly walk past his corpse, perhaps even stepping on his face as she swept by.
“This is the Yi Lan Residence.” Ning Yi continued, holding her in his embrace and gently playing with her hair. In the peace and tranquility of the moment, the past seemed like the heavy rain pounding ineffectually outside — the distant noise audible, but holding no sway over his heart. In that moment, he did not wish to hide away his secrets any longer.
“After my mother ‘died,’ she live here for ten years.” He explained.
Feng Zhiwei murmured, half ignoring Ning Yi as she closed her eyes to sleep — although he wished to share, she was not yet willing to listen.
But just as her eyes had closed, they flew open again — what had he said?
Living here after her death?
Goosebumps ran down Feng Zhiwei’s arms as the rumors about Ning Yi’s past ran through her mind. His Mother-Concubine had been the Princess of a small tribe of Da Yue and had been captured in battle. On that year, when the Tian Sheng Dynasty had yet to be established, this legendary, peerless beauty died of metrorrhagia a few months after giving birth to Ning Yi. Years later, when Ning Yi was seven, the Tian Sheng Emperor founded his dynasty.
Feng Zhiwei had always wondered at the strange story of Ning Yi’s birth, but had never put any thought to the matter, but now — how likely was it that the Princess would die from metrorrhagia months after childbirth?
Metrorrhagia happened most often during the process of labor, and the probability of anything occurring after the save delivery drastically dropped. At the time of Ning Yi’s birth, the Ning Family had been among the most famous of Da Cheng Military Family, possessing great power and wealth. What kind of rare medicines did they not have? How could they be like a poor family lacking in medicine and food and lose a mother months after her labor?
And now the son had revealed the truth — the mother had not died and had lived on another ten years, but why did she need to hide away and live in seclusion?”
“In the Thirteenth Year of the rule of Da Cheng’s last Emperor, Father Emperor rose in rebellion.” Ning Yi spoke calmly. “Da Yue was a vassal of Da Cheng at the time and seized the opportunity to break away and found their own country. Father Emperor was focused on Da Cheng and set aside the Da Yue matter for three years, but when the situation had settled, Father Emperor warred against Da Yue in the North. Mother-Concubine was captured and became Father Emperor’s concubine.
“She was daughter to the Setting Sun Royal Tribe’s Patriarch. Da Yue pair of Sun and Moon tribes were famous for their mysteries hidden away in the mountains along the border. The Moon Tribe’s women were famed for their enchanting arts, and the women of the Setting Sun were said to be favored by the Heavenly Emperor. The women of these two tribes were fought over by all strong powers, and for Father Emperor, the favored women of the Heavenly Emperor fit his ambition and dream. Yet, Mother-Concubine was captured in a peculiar manner. She appeared one day, singing as she descended from the sky to land on Father Emperor’s horse.”
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Feng Zhiwei murmured in surprise — was this Princess a fairy saint?
“The snow fell heavily that day, and thick white covered over ten miles of forested pine as Father Emperor’s army marched.” Ning Yi continued, staring out at the water streaming down the eaves of the building. His eyes lost focus, and he looked through the curtain of rain as if he could see that beautiful scene all those years ago as the massive army filled the border of Da Yue. “Mother Concubine fell from a pine tree while the army marched through the forest, singing a strange tune to herself and the little squirrel she clutched to her white hemp garment. Everyone thought she was a fairy falling from the heavens.”
Through Feng Zhiwei’s lidded eyes, she could almost see the black, shining armor and brilliant spears filling the heavy snow and green pined land. On that hard a bitter day, a young girl fell from the skies clutching a squirrel to her chest, a sudden brilliance of tenderness flowering in their midst.
“Mother Concubine’s appearance was too strange, and the generals were divided on the meaning of her appearance and almost came to a fight over the auspiciousness of the sign. Father Emperor made the final decision and insisted on keeping her. No one understood Mother Concubine’s language, and no one recognized the song she sang; even when Mother Concubine began to learn to Central Plain’s language, she never liked talking.”
“The next year, Mother Concubine was pregnant and Da Cheng’s Emperor Li escaped to Da Yue, and so Father Emperor marched once again for the north. The battles were not going in our favor, and the combined forces of Da Yue and the remnants of Emperor Li’s army had conquered seven counties and occupied most of the land east of the Hu Yan River. Fear and rumor ran through the armies.”
“Spies?” Feng Zhiwei asked, unable to resist speaking.
Ning Yi glanced down at her, the corner of his lips curving up into a cold, bitter smile. “Yes and no. The matter of the Heavenly Emperor’s favor was brought up again, and a Minister from Da Yue explained that this title did not mean that those who possessed these women would become Emperor, but rather that the women themselves had natural prophetic abilities. They could see the future of themselves and their descendants as if blessed with the favor of god. Around this time, the song that Mother-Concubine sang as she fell onto Father Emperor’s horse was finally deciphered.”
“What did she sing?”
“I don’t know.” Ning Yi shook his head, “Everyone who knew is dead. The only one left is Father Emperor.”
“It must have been inauspicious...” Feng Zhiwei murmured.
“Yes.” Ning Yi replied, looking up to the ceiling, his fingers curling and unknowingly brushing over Feng Zhiwei’s face, the cold in his hand sending a shiver down Feng Zhiwei’s spine.
Ning Yi looked down as she quivered and unsealed her acupuncture point. Feng Zhiwei shifted a bit away from him, and after a moment’s thought, dragged the fire pan closer.
“Are you worried that I’m cold?” The man behind her whispered in a deep, gentle voice.
“No.” Feng Zhiwei replied, refusing to admit her worry. “My dress is still wet, I just want to dry it faster.” As she spoke, she tucked a pillow into the quilt and set up a barrier between Ning Yi and her. Ning Yi only smiled to himself, not pushing the matter any further. Finally, Feng Zhiwei could no longer stand the awkwardness of staring up at his smile so she returned the conversation to the story at hand: “What happened next?”
“The rest is history.” Ning Yi explained calmly. “The entire army demanded that Father Emperor rid them of the evil curse, and at that time, Father Emperor could not refuse. Two months later, Mother-Concubine gave birth to me, and then after wasting away for two months from metrorrhagia, she passed away.
“My wet-nurse told me the official tale, I never saw Mother-Concubine and always believed she had died. Father Emperor pitied me and put me in the care of the Empress, though of course the dynasty had not yet been founded and the royal line not yet established. A week or so later, I came down with grave illness and the doctors said it was unlikely I would survive. The Empress reported the matter to Father-Emperor, and Father-Emperor just sighed in acceptance.”
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