(1.1)

There is nothing more exasperating, more frustrating, and more incredibly painful than watching someone you love slowly succumb to illness, and being helpless to do anything about it. This is especially true when your helplessness stems from the fact that they will not care for themselves.

My husband's illness had been growing steadily worse over the past few months. But he hid it. Until quite recently, he hid it well. It is one of the most vexing problems in dealing with a sick patient; how can you make him well again if he will not admit to any symptoms? It began as a cough, which he claimed was merely a common cold. But over time we noticed other evidence of his declining health. He slept little, and had a poor appetite. His coughing became progressively worse. Sometimes, an odd look would come over his face, and he would miss whatever was being said in that moment. Then he would give his head a slight shake, as if to clear it, and smile and ask us to repeat what we'd said. I do not know if it was dizziness that seized him, or if he simply lost focus. He relied more and more often on his carriage, and was easily winded by even slight exercise. And, though I did not divulge this to anyone else, he ceased to show any signs of interest in me. I could not rouse his desire. On those occasions when I tried, he would turn me away, claiming there was too much work to be done and no time for leisure.

Yet so good was his act, so carefully set in place his mask of confidence, that for a long time he had us fooled as to the severity of his illness. And in fact, his behavior did not seem overly strange to us in the face of his dedication. He had always placed his work before personal needs, health, and desires. His ability to toil selflessly, giving complete priority to his public duty, had earned the admiration of his peers and enabled him to bring Liu Bei to power.

But now, the same dedication that had brought him so far was driving me to distraction. How could I possibly take care of him if he refused to even acknowledge his health, or that it was fading?

It was on a hot day during our army's march that I first caught a glimpse of the severity of his affliction. We were trekking along a narrow path. The horses had to be guided along the route, and he could not use his carriage. He seemed in fine shape as he strode ahead, overseeing the march and remarking on the difficulty of transporting supplies. But suddenly, he stopped talking, and stumbled. I moved to help him up, thinking he had merely tripped. But he did not rise when I took his arm. He sat braced, hands against the ground. He looked down at his limbs as if they belonged to someone else.

"Prime Minister!"

A few soldiers and officers had clustered round to make sure he was all right. I took a firmer grip on his arm and murmured his name. He made some effort then to rise, with my help, but he was unsteady. I was shocked at how light he was. I had not realized how much weight he had lost, seeing him everyday as I did. It alarmed me, and I asked if he needed any assistance.

He seemed as surprised at his own weakness as I was, and a bit annoyed at himself as well. He leaned on me and frowned. After a short while, he declared he was well, and marched on.

I followed close behind. The whole thing, so unexpected, fired off numerous doubts in my mind. Was it merely the heat, tiring my husband? Or maybe he was just exhausted from the march.

But then I thought of his expression when he had fallen. The mingled look of frustration and incomprehension. He sometimes wore such an expression after spells of dizziness. I thought to myself, If he were merely feeling exhaustion, he should have spoken earlier. Why push himself, when he could have easily paused for a few moments? It would have been nothing much to ask. Unless…

I felt a chill of worry. If he had been well and had felt unusually weak on a certain day, he would have tended to his health to make it recover quicker, or keep it from worsening. But if he was suffering a long-term, chronic illness that was continually impeding his work… Yes, of course then he would hide it. Or at least try to ignore it.

After that, what had before seemed minor, almost negligible symptoms, I saw now were just the few traces of his illness that he could not manage to suppress. That he was finally so weak as to succumb to them was a sign that he had been sick for a very long time.

Soon after that I confronted him, begging him to rest, to give himself time to recover. He denied the severity of his condition. I persisted. Finally, seeing I would not relent, he brushed my concern aside by saying that he would rest after we had captured the central plains. He would hear no more conversation on the subject, and thereafter, he began to distance himself from me.

Do you have any idea what it is like to stand by, watching, as the person you love wilts away, and you are helpless to make them take care of themselves? I had no more power to force him to treat his illness than I have power to move the sun. Sometimes, I felt so angry that I wished him well in his folly, and if he suffered for it, that was right; it was the natural consequence of his stubbornness.

But inside, it was tearing me apart.

(1.2)

We met when the turmoil in the land was at its height, and the three kingdoms had not yet been formed. I was in my late teens, slipping past the age when most young women ought to have been married. My poor father despaired that I would never find a husband. Had I been beautiful it would have been easy for him engage me to a man of decent rank; but I was plain. And more than being plain – I was headstrong.

"Who will marry a woman that can outclass him in martial arts?" he demanded of me.

"A very wise man," I replied.

"Who will marry a woman so willful? You must try to be more submissive and feminine. A man does not want a wife who will defy him."

"Then he should not seek to marry me," I replied.

My father threw up his hands and sighed. "At this rate you will never find a husband!"

"That's not true, father. I'll gladly submit to someone -- provided he is my superior in both wisdom and strength."

My father looked grave at this pronouncement. He could have forced me to marry, of course; but he had too much love for me, and too much respect for my opinion, to act directly against my will. He reminded me that he wished to have grandchildren. I reiterated my promise that if he could find a man to fit my qualifications, I would accept him.

My supposition, of course, was that such a man would never be found. One might think me an ungrateful, spoiled daughter, to so willfully oppose my father's wishes. But it must be understood… I could not bear the idea of a life of servitude. A husband might forbid me from wielding a weapon, from studying the art of war, from tinkering with my inventions -- especially if I surpassed him in such things. Then I would be like a bird with clipped wings, constrained by an owner jealous that he could not fly himself – who therefore would not have me do so, either.

It was a fate I deeply dreaded. Fortunately, my father was a liberal, gentle soul; another man might hardly have borne such a daughter.

One day, as I came home from a sparring session with my trainer in the martial arts, I found my father waiting for me. He was in very high spirits, and when I asked him the reason, he took my hands with a smile and claimed he had found a suitor for me.

I was less than thrilled. "Who is he?"

"He is a scholar of extraordinary brilliance, called Sleeping Dragon. His name is Zhuge Liang, styled Kongming. I have known him for some while. Today I mentioned you to him, and found that he had already heard rumors of your talents. He seemed to have some interest in you, so I immediately made him an offer, and he asked to meet you. However, you were away for the day, so I asked him to come by tomorrow."

"You made him an offer?" I cried, appalled.

"It was too good an opportunity to waste. You will not find a better man," he insisted.

"But father—"

"Remember the promise you made to me," he reminded me sternly.

I scowled, and had no reply to that. I was furious at him for having arranged this whole matter without my consent. In a huff I retreated to my room. There I brooded, thinking gloomily about what my future servitude would be like if I were forced to marry this Sleeping Dragon. My father, who felt a little guilty for his hastiness, came in to see me later and try to assuage my fears. By then I had a plan. I told him, "I understand, father, that you are acting in my best interests. But I must be sure this suitor is indeed worthy of your esteem. If he can pass three tests, I will acknowledge his superiority and submit to him."

My father groaned. He seemed most reluctant to ask what my tests were. When I told him, he sighed and threw up his hands. "Very well, I will let this be your last defiance; when you have been bested you will submit wholeheartedly."

If I am bested, I thought, and hurriedly set off to make arrangements for my first test – one which I was sure would make any subsequent trials unnecessary. I enlisted the help of a young and very fair maiden named Xing Hua. Her cheeks were like blossoms, her skin soft as silk, her eyes bright and merry, her lips rose red. She had a coquettish smile and laughter like the silvery peal of little bells. I dressed her in fine clothing, and gave her some instructions.

The next day, Zhuge Liang arrived at our house to meet me. From my place hidden behind a screen, I glimpsed him through a little hole I had cut. He was tall, cloaked in a white robe. There was something spiritual about him; I cannot quite describe it, only he seemed to me to have some keen penetration to his gaze, like the clairvoyance of a prophet. From his manner I sensed boundless confidence. It bothered me -- I recall thinking he was arrogant – but this may have been the product of the frame of mind I was in; I was not inclined to view him in a positive light.

Xing Hua was waiting in the back room. When my father called for me to come out, she answered in my place, introducing herself to Sleeping Dragon as Huang Yue Ying.

I watched eagerly, feeling a glow of triumph at the expression of delighted surprise on the face of my suitor at the sight of her. He exclaimed to my father, "The rumors about your daughter claimed that she was unattractive; how mistaken they are!"

Fool! I thought, smirking.

"My daughter is very modest, and always insistent that we not overpraise her; that is why the rumors about her are unflattering," my father responded.

"But I have heard you are an excellent swordsman," Zhuge Liang said to Xing Hua.

She smiled, batting her eyelashes shyly, and replied, "Father insisted I learn for my own protection. Alas, I am not very capable with a blade."

"No need to be modest," said Zhuge Liang. "Rumor has it that you wield a scythe with the skill of a great general."

"You overrate me, Master Sleeping Dragon," she said. "But yes, the scythe is my weapon of preference."

"If your father does not mind, I would love to see a demonstration. Why not have a bout against me?"

I had already told my father and Xing Hua how to respond to this sort of request. The girl lowered her eyes and softly demurred. My father explained that she was not feeling well today.

"Ah," said Zhuge Liang, nodding. "In that case, do not worry about it. Women are not really meant to wield weapons, anyway. It is too strenuous, and taxes their weak natures. You should be more careful, and not overstrain yourself," he told Xing Hua.

Behind the screen, I fumed. But I was not going to give myself away in my anger. At least, I thought to myself, this first test will have me rid of him.

The young pair continued to converse. Zhuge Liang made mention of some of my other talents, and began questioning Xing Hua about the stars.

"I have been observing the celestial phenomena recently," he said. "From it I gather that the Emperor will soon experience good fortune."

I had observed the stars last night, and knew that what he said was utter nonsense; but Xing Hua fell right into his trap. "Yes, I noticed that, too," she said.

"Oh? You had the same thought? There are some who disagree with me. Pray tell, how did you reach that conclusion?"

I groaned inwardly as the girl, not sure how to answer at this point, blushed prettily and stammered, "The host stars were… ah… bright. And the guest stars were weak. And… a shooting star went through the Big Dipper…"

As she spoke, a smile spread across Zhuge Liang's face. He seemed as if he were about to laugh. "I see. Thank you for enlightening me. Your wisdom is spoken of widely – now I understand why. There is not another woman whose intellect is so highly praised. If it is not too much to ask, perhaps you will do me the kindness of offering me your interpretation of a dream I had last night?"

Xing Hua threw a desperate glance towards my father. He pretended not to notice; clearly, he was on the side of the suitor. Traitor, I thought to myself. Zhuge Liang rose and recited,

"In the moonlit garden of a dream

The air was filled with heavenly song

A bird trilled somewhere down the path

Enchanted, I walked along…

At the source of the silvery sound

What a surprise was to be found!

A peacock, brilliant plumage bright

As bold as day covering the night."

For an ad lib, it was more than fair. Xing Hua completely missed the point. "You are going to attain great happiness in your future," she said, eyes shining at what she thought was a decent interpretation. "The peacock is a brilliant fortune, waiting for you. It is an auspicious sign."

Behind the screen, I sighed. She could not see that the pretty, ornamental peacock was herself, that the birdsong was the rumors about me, and that the source of those rumors was the plain looking but talented nightingale, who was currently hidden behind the peacock's plumage. Zhuge Liang pretended to be enlightened by Xing Hua's words; but it was clear that he had seen through my little test, and was having a great deal of fun proving it.

Still, I did not come out yet. Hopefully, he would feel put off enough by the whole affair that he'd lose interest in me. My father sent Xing Hua away, and asked Zhuge Liang if he found his daughter agreeable.

"The young lady is very beautiful," replied Zhuge Liang. "I am charmed by her manner. But I fear that I would make her a poor husband. I am only a farmer; how could I give her the care she deserves? With her great beauty, you could easily obtain a more advantageous match."

"Yet she has had few suitors, and none she deems acceptable…" murmured my father.

"It is because of the rumors about her," said Zhuge Liang, with a wave of his feather fan. "They're all wrong. It's no wonder no one has come to ask for her hand. But not to worry; I'll set that right. I shall make sure that people know that she is a woman of great beauty, though perhaps less intellectual renown than she has been given credit… You will not have long to wait. Men seeking a lovely wife will come flocking to your home in droves."

This was more than I could stand. The last thing I wanted was for him to leave and start spreading rumors that would send all sorts of shallow men my way. I stepped out from behind the screen. "Please do not spread false rumors about me, Master Sleeping Dragon."

My father and would-be suitor both looked my way, expressions of astonishment on their faces.

"Who are you?" said Zhuge Liang.

Deciding to drop any further pretense, I introduced myself as Huang Yue Ying. My father was thoroughly embarrassed as I explained my test, more so because he had participated in it. He apologized profusely to Zhuge Liang, and added, "Now you see why I fear she'll never be married!"

This in turn embarrassed me. Zhuge Liang started laughing. To soothe our ruffled nerves he said to my father, "No need for apologies; her concern is understandable. If a man were to be swayed so easily by superficial qualities, how could you entrust your daughter to him?"

This made me feel a little better disposed towards him. He turned to me, and said with genuine warmth, "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Huang. Forgive my remarks just now; I meant only to incite you to show yourself."

"I see my little trick didn't fool you in the least," I said, smiling. "It is I who must ask your forgiveness. My behavior must seem quite inexcusable. I hope I've not offended you."

"Quite the contrary," he said. He cocked his head, smiling a little, and said, "Truly, the rumors about you do not do you justice. I presume you spread them yourself?"

He was referring to rumors that I was an intelligent, but extremely ugly woman. People who knew me knew that this was not true; but I had spread word of my ugliness in order to discourage suitors who would be interested only in superficial qualities. Zhuge Liang had heard those rumors; but he'd also had a much truer account from my father.

"You are correct; I did indeed cause those rumors to be spread," I said. "A man who could not see past my skin would find nothing of interest in me."

"And what sort of man do you think would come to seek your hand?"

I shrugged. "I do not know."

He smiled, and held out his hand towards me. "Miss Huang, will you come for a walk with me in the garden?"

"If it would please you," I said. I had no wish to encourage him; but he had passed the first test, so it was only fair I give him some chance to earn my good will. I caught a glimpse of my father's face as we strolled outside. He was smiling, thoughtfully stroked his beard. It made me sigh inwardly, but I was quickly distracted from thoughts of disappointing him when Zhuge Liang called my attention to a device that I had been using to transport gardening supplies.

"Is this something of your own invention?" he asked.

I told him it was. He knelt to examine it, seeming highly interested as he examined its structure. In fact, it was the prototype from which he later designed the Wood Ox. We soon fell into discussion about it, and finding in him a sympathetic ear to one of my interests that few people shared, I showed him some other things I had been working on. He had a flare for invention himself, and asked if he might share some designs with me sometime, and have my opinion on them.

No one but my father had ever valued my mechanical experiments so much before, and his admiration pleased me. But I had not forgotten the two tests remaining for him, nor had I given up hope of discouraging him. Noting that he carried no sword, I remarked on the fact.

"This a peaceful area," he said. "There is no need to go about armed."

"But you intended to challenge me to a sword match?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Oh no," he said, chuckling. "I don't think so."

"Is it because you fear I am too weak?"

"No, I only said that to try to rile you. In truth, I imagine your talent exceeds the rumors; after all, you are a woman. For a man to gain acclaim is not too difficult; for a woman it is much harder."

This mollified me somewhat, but I said anyway, "Well, I shall be more than happy to give you a demonstration of my skills, if you wish to try them."

He smiled and replied, "Do I appear to you to be a warrior, Miss Huang?"

I glanced him up and down. He did not have the build or the poise of a man used to wielding weapons; but this did not mean he might not have some skill with them.

"Appearances can be deceiving," I replied, noting calluses on his hands.

He nodded agreement, and catching my observation, he showed me his hands and explained, "These calluses are from farmwork, not swordplay. I would like to see a demonstration of your skill sometime; but I would make an inadequate opponent."

Ah, I thought. So much for him passing my tests. The first he had seen through easily; the second was a match of wits, and it was possible he could win that, too. But the third was a duel, and in that he would fail.

I might have challenged him then and there, and put an end to the whole courtship matter quickly; but it would have seemed a strange thing to do after our amiable conversation. The test, I decided, could wait. With the security that I could best him anytime (and thereby evade marriage, if it came to that), I stopped worrying, and started instead to simply enjoy exchanging ideas with someone who shared similar interests with me.

As we continued our stroll, our conversation digressed to the art of war. We spoke of strategy, discussed some of the battles that had divided the country in the past years, and contemplated the future. We talked of things we had seen in the stars, and debated over various interpretations of heavenly signs. The longer we spoke, the more I came to realize that this man was no ordinary scholar. No indeed… his intellect far surpassed mine. I did not notice the hours passing swiftly by; it seemed only the blink of an eye, and then the sun's light was fading in the western sky. Zhuge Liang apologized for having stayed so long.

For my part, I was surprised at my reluctance to see him go. He promised to come and see me again, and bade me farewell.

After his departure, my father said to me, "It was very tolerant of Kongming to overlook your little ploy. He seems, in spite of it, to look favorably on you. It is more than I had hoped for."

"He is a clever man, and seems kind," I replied. "However, he is not a warrior."

My father frowned. "If you are so picky, you will lose the best opportunity of your life. If he makes an offer, you must accept."

I did not answer. Though I was impressed with Zhuge Liang's intelligence and with what seemed kindness and generosity in his nature, I still considered him an antagonist in this courtship. And yet, that evening, as I went to sleep, I found my thoughts returning to him. I wondered… What does he think of me? Did I bore him? Did I seem too forward, too opinionated? To someone so clever I must have appeared very foolish… I had never been so concerned with another's opinion of me before. It bothered me. I recalled the humor and ready wit sparkling in his eyes, the almost ethereal quality about him… no matter how I tried, I could not shake him from my thoughts.

Next time, I thought, I will test him, and resolve the matter once and for all.

Strangely, instead of reassurance, this thought brought with it only a sense of deep reluctance.