AN: We get to meet Yuan Song this week; writing both him and Meng Feng has been interesting because they're both a bit different than they were when they met in canon. YS is still oblivious and childish, while Meng Feng isn't quite as jaded since she's only lived through one Nirvana instead of 2 and a portion—not to mention that she's had 3 fewer years as an AC assassin. Her section surprised me; I'd planned on her not being drawn to him so early, but perhaps that lack of jadedness is having more of an effect than I'd planned. We'll see how their relationship will develop; even I don't know how things will go, honestly. I know they're not everyone's cup of tea, so I, of course, knew that I had to whip up a nice batch of XingYue goodness this week. I hope you enjoy it.
Something brushed against Xing'er's senses, slowly drawing her up from unconsciousness like a fish on a line. She briefly fought against the pull before remembering recent events—or what she assumed to be recent events—in a sudden rush. Her eyes popped open, but she otherwise didn't move a muscle. Befuddled senses struggled against the mental torpor caused by the poison that she assumed to still be coursing through her veins.
I'm in Yuwen Yue's bed, she realized in a flash of insight. She instinctively drew in a deep breath of his scent and scowled at herself for her weakness.
Instead of focusing on how good lying in her beloved's typical resting place felt, Xing'er did her best to reassemble her memories from...whenever they occurred.
Not that I've proven myself to be any good at regaining and organizing memories, she thought darkly.
She remembered her conversation with Yuwen Yue, the planning sessions with the men and the bird, and the long, agonizing wait in this very room. Xing'er also clearly remembered the start of the attack and her role in drastically thinning the enemy with her plan. Most of her fight with the mysterious woman also seemed to be intact, although the memories did, of course, get blurry near the end. She remembered getting shot, remembered desperately trying to get up, remembered...standing in front of Yuwen Yue with her sword? Or was he standing in front of her with his sword? And why was the Afterlife Camp assassin's sword on the floor?
Closing her eyes again in an attempt to make sense of her jumbled memories, she fought hard to recall her last moments before she'd lost consciousness. She knew that something had happened to the assassin and that Yuwen Yue had survived—at least that conflict; his ultimate well-being was still unknown. She'd been on the ground...No...she'd been lying on something soft...someone soft?
An image coalesced in her mind, so vivid and compelling that she was almost certain that it was a fantasy or a dream. Yuwen Yue's face was hovering over her, looking down at her with a more open expression than she'd ever seen on him. His eyes were roiling with anguish, fear, pain, exhaustion and...no...she wouldn't define it because she knew he didn't feel that way about her, not anymore.
A babble of voices sounded in the main courtyard, and Xing'er realized that softer similar sounds had likely awakened her from her forced slumber. Her senses told her that she was alone save for the Cangwu bird, who was fortunately snoozing away on his perch at the foot of the bed. While Xing'er held a great deal of affection for her feathered friend, she didn't want him to tell anyone that she'd awakened given the myriad uncertainties with which she was faced.
Carefully slipping out of bed, Xing'er crept soundlessly across the floor to the same window she'd used to such good effect the night of the attack. She opened it slightly, making a gap just big enough for her to see out into the sunbathed courtyard but not so large that anyone would likely take notice. To her relief, the parrot slept on.
As always, her eyes were instantly drawn to Yuwen Yue, who appeared to be safe and well at first glance. A few tell-tale signs hinted at a deeper exhaustion, however, and Xing'er's brow furrowed as she realized that he shouldn't have been out of his rooms at this point in his recovery, much less Qing Shan Yuan itself. Her mind would've continued in this vein for longer had she not noticed the woman at his side—the woman who was carrying Xing'er's sword, walking in Xing'er's place, and talking with Yuwen Yue in an overly-familiar way.
Several emotions lanced through Xing'er at once as her mind tried to make sense of what her eyes were seeing. She stepped back from the window and closed it silently, tiptoeing back to the bed and climbing into it in an effort to shut out the reality of what she'd just seen. Pulling the covers up to her chin and closing her eyes failed to stop these new images from repeating themselves over and over again in a merciless cavalcade of damning images.
He's already replaced me, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut in order to prevent any tears from leaking out. He's given her my sword, my place at his side, and...what? His love? Did he ever love me or was I just fooling myself? Does it really even matter? He's already made his choice; all I can do is to figure out what I'm going to do about it.
And just what are you going to do about it, you weak fool? a part of her taunted. You're tired just from getting out of bed and standing at the window for a few moments. How are you going to run anywhere—must less be able to protect yourself and your sisters? Of course, if we're lucky, he might just kill us now and put us out of our misery.
Another part of herself fiercely rejected the idea that Yuwen Yue could ever harm her and defended the man she loved as too honorable for such a scheme. She wanted to believe this part of her desperately, but she couldn't stop seeing the image of that woman smiling at Yuwen Yue and him looking back at her with approval.
And why shouldn't he approve? the snide voice said, attacking her again. That woman, as you call her, is an upgrade over you in every way. She's a better fighter than you are. She's more beautiful than you are. She's...well...okay, so she's an Afterlife Camp assassin, but that's better than "born, sworn enemy," right? Face it: Yuwen Yue should prefer her to you if he has any common sense.
Xing'er tried to hide from this cruel part of her mind, but it spoke so much incisive sense that she couldn't do was a proud woman, but she wasn't blind to her many shortcomings. If Yuwen Yue wanted to replace her with a stronger, prettier, more trustworthy version of herself, then she should let him—after taking her own brand of vengeance before leaving, of course.
Footsteps sounded nearby, and Xing'er's mind tried to pull together the haphazard threads of her mental ramblings. She could tell that the poison was clouding her mind, but she struggled to pull a plan together before Yuwen Yue's approach made her reasonings moot.
I can't run away or put up a fight now if he tries to kill me, she acknowledged. I'm too weak to fight. I have no weapons. I have no money. If he gives me the antidote, he'll likely be doing so with the intention of using me in some way before he kills me. Maybe he'll send me on some mission from which I'm not supposed to return. Maybe he'll make me a spy of sacrifice, pretend to mourn my passing, and then bring that woman into my place—and into his bed.
The doors swung inward and an unmistakable tread stepped over the threshold and into the room. Xing'er forced her breathing to remain steady as if she were asleep and gave no outward indication that she heard his footsteps or the excitable bird that was now babbling about "not sleeping" and "just resting his eyes" and "Master's home."
If he cures me, then I'll get healthy—and then I'll run, she concluded. I'll play my part, get the lay of the land, and then, when he least expects me to, I'll take my sisters and run for Yanbei. Yan Xun will take care of us, and I'll be able to serve him.
Grudgingly satisfied with her plan for now, Xing'er waited anxiously as Yuwen Yue's quiet footsteps continued to move closer to the bed.
Yuwen Yue stopped near the side of his bed and looked down at his beloved, relieved to see the even rising and falling of the blankets covering her. He'd hoped that she would've awakened by now; surely if she were going to do so, the caterwauling of his parrot would've helped her along. She didn't acknowledge the bird's squawks in any way, however, and he feared that he'd have to force her to swallow the large pill he was now clutching in his hand.
He'd already placed Po Yue Jian and Can Hong Jian in their proper places on his sword rack and dumped the black robes he'd been wearing unceremoniously onto his table. The secret repository and the Liang spy's letter could wait; nothing mattered more than giving Xing'er the antidote.
Not wanting to waste any more time, he sat down on the bed, not even bothering to take off his boots. That, too, could wait. He gently placed his empty hand on Xing'er's left shoulder, softly saying her name as he tried to turn her onto her back—or at least closer to facing him. She made no move to stop him, but she didn't help him, either. Yuwen Yue frowned as he noted something off about the way she moved, almost as if she were deliberately trying to be dead weight rather than being so naturally.
"I have the antidote, Xing'er," he said, pulling her against him so that she was sitting in his lap.
Her eyes fluttered open, revealing troubled, clouded orbs that swirled with a variety of emotions, some of which made him immensely uneasy. His mind searched for where he'd seen that particular combination before, and the closest he could remember was the expression she'd worn in this very room after the Lantern Festival. She'd watched the hourglass drain as if she'd seen her own life slipping away but had had no idea of how to stop it from doing so. His brow furrowed as he realized that she was also looking at him in suspicion, and he couldn't figure out what would make her doubt his intentions.
You mean other than the fact that she recently revealed her true identity to you and that you were less than receptive to it, oh, brilliant spymaster? his snide side told him. Just because you've had the chance to make some life-altering decisions doesn't mean that she's had the same luxury—or that she's aware of the ones you've made.
Yuwen Yue would've been more irritated with that incisive part of his mind had it not been so obviously right. He vowed to do all he could to make Xing'er understand that he wasn't going to let her past stand in the way of their future—but first, he had to cure her.
"Here," he said, holding out his hand with the round, brown pill in the middle.
She still looked up at him with suspicion.
"It's from the same batch as the one that Meng Feng took," he said. "She's the Afterlife Camp assassin who led us into their lair in exchange for an opportunity to get the antidote and to free herself and her friends from the master's grip."
To his dismay, his explanation only seemed to make Xing'er's face grow even more closed off and sullen. Yuwen Yue had no idea why she would react that way—unless…
She grudgingly grabbed the pill and shoved it into her mouth, swallowing it with fierce determination and an air of defiance. His entire body slumped in relief, and he didn't mind that Xing'er saw his reaction. In fact, he didn't care about a lot of things at the moment. He didn't care that Xing'er might be jealous of Meng Feng. He didn't care that he had no intention of reading anything he'd brought back from the Afterlife Camp lair anytime soon. He didn't care that he'd essentially left nearly two dozen Afterlife Camp assassins under the care of his Yue guards to do with as they saw fit. He didn't care that he hadn't even bothered to take off his boots before getting into bed.
All that matters to me is that Xing'er's safe, he admitted, carefully resettling his beloved in bed as he turned around to remove his footwear. After all, he planned to sleep for a long time, and he didn't want his boots to interfere with his ability to curl up with Xing'er, which was exactly what he planned to do.
The woman he loved didn't seem to share his plans, however, as she foolishly tried to get out of bed. His arm snaked out and snagged her before she could go anywhere, and they scowled at one another in confusion.
"You need to rest, Xing'er," he said.
"So do you," she said. "I figured that, now that you're back, you'll be wanting your bed to yourself again."
"Why would I want that?"
Xing'er looked at him in confusion.
"We've been sharing a bed for the past several days now, so I've gotten used to it," Yuwen Yue said, smirking.
"Ah?" Xing'er's eyes widened comically.
"Did you really think I was going to let you out of my sight before I could get the chance to heal you?" Yuwen Yue asked his beloved. "Besides, if anyone could find a way to get in trouble while unconscious, it would be you."
"You're one to talk," Xing'er muttered.
"What was that?"
"I said that I love listening to you talk," Xing'er said sweetly. "Your voice is so soothing."
She was looking at him with that fakely-innocent expression that had never failed to set his blood on fire; this time was no exception. He gave her an intense look of his own and was rewarded with the faltering of her own smug smile. In that moment, he knew that his earlier thoughts had been right and that this was the life that he wanted for himself and his beloved.
"As gratifying as your enjoyment of my voice is, Xing'er, I'd rather that both of us rest our throats for as long as possible."
"That will be more difficult for some of us than others," Xing'er said.
"I know it will be hard for you, Xing'er, but I know that you'll master this discipline like you've mastered all the other ones I've taught you."
"I'm glad to know that you've mastered the skill of not being in love with the sound of your voice, Yuwen Yue. How did you ever achieve such personal growth?"
"I found something better to be in love with," he said huskily, leveling one of his most potent looks at her.
"Oh," she said, tilting her face downward towards the bed as a sad, resentful look took over her face.
Yuwen Yue was at a loss to know what she was thinking; her response was neither what he'd wanted nor expected. Her reaction to his description of Meng Feng flashed back through his mind, and his tired brain wondered if his beloved actually thought she had something to fear from the other warrior.
"I'll let you get some sleep, then," she said in a subdued voice as she began to roll over.
Instinctively Yuwen Yue reached out his hand and touched her shoulder again, stopping her from turning away from him as she was obviously planning to do. She looked at him questioningly, and he stared back at her with an unsettled feeling of confusion roiling in his gut as to what to do next. Her eyes were large and vulnerable, and he wished he weren't so tired.
"Don't you want to have your own space?" she asked him. "Besides, if I'm facing away from you, I'll have to work twice as hard to slit your throat in your sleep."
"With what?" he asked smugly, neatly dodging her first question since he didn't want to admit that having his own space was the last thing he wanted.
"You're right," Xing'er said. "I have no weapons. You made sure of that. You even took my sword."
Her voice had turned especially bitter when she'd talked about Can Hong Jian, and he was puzzled as to what could've prompted her reaction.
"I figured you wouldn't need it while you were unconscious."
"I'm not unconscious now," Xing'er said, her eyes flashing a challenge. "I will be soon, though. I wonder what will happen then."
Yuwen Yue didn't often find himself at a complete loss, but he had no idea what was bothering his beloved so much. His mind blindly flailed around in search of an explanation, but he could come up with nothing.
"Fool! Fool! Fool!" his parrot squawked, insulting Xing'er as he often did.
Xing'er scowled at the bird and said, "I would tell you to go back to sleep, but you've probably been doing nothing but sleep these past few days, so you should have no trouble staying awake now."
Indignant squawks came pouring from his parrot's beak, but Yuwen Yue's keen mind caught on her assertion that the bird had been sleeping so much. While she'd phrased the insult as if she were only speculating, he wondered if she weren't speaking from personal experience. His mind flashed back to the scene in the courtyard before he'd come in, and he wondered if Xing'er had seen part of it from the same window she'd shot from—the one with the best view of the courtyard.
Meng Feng had been holding Can Hong Jian and smiling at him. She'd told him that he needed to take the antidote to his girl and that they both needed to get some rest. The thought of curing Xing'er and lying next to her had almost made him smile in front of the men, but he'd managed to keep himself to a staid look of approval instead. She'd also handed back Can Hong Jian and told him to return it to its proper owner, which had triggered another almost-smile. How much had Xing'er seen?
The sound of silence pulled him back to the present as he realized that his bird and his beloved were now glowering at each other silently. Although the effort to get out of bed felt several times more difficult than normal, Yuwen Yue nevertheless took advantage of the quiet and padded over to the sword rack. He pulled both swords from where he'd placed them not too long ago and slowly walked over to the bed, giving Xing'er the most potent look he could muster.
She watched transfixed as he tucked Po Yue Jian under the mattress on his side of the bed much as he'd done several nights ago before the attack. He slowly walked around to the other side of the bed and did the same with Can Hong Jian, never breaking eye contact with the woman he loved as she turned her head to follow his progress. They gazed into each other's eyes for a few moments before Yuwen Yue suddenly vaulted over Xing'er and settled neatly into place beside her, pulling the covers over himself once again.
"Now you can slit my throat in my sleep if you want to, Xing'er," he said, his whole body drooping in exhaustion. "But if you're going to slit my throat, please do it quickly so I can finally get some sleep."
To his relief, Xing'er's eyes lost much of their suspicion and fear. He didn't know if she fully understood what he'd done, but she no longer looked like she was going to run, which was all he cared about at the moment. The rest of their talk could wait for later when they were both a bit more lucid.
"What would be the fun of slitting your throat when you expect me to do it?" she asked, rewarding him with a small smile. "No, I'll wait for a time when you least expect my vengeance."
"I would expect nothing less, Xing'er," he said, closing his eyes.
He laid still for a moment, but he could still feel her eyes on him. Opening his back up, he gave his beloved the most stern look he could muster—which wasn't particularly stern if her expression was any indication.
"Rest, X'er," he rasped, intrigued by the expression on her face and filing it away for later. Maybe he'd try saying her name like that again sometime.
Her body gradually slackened and at last fell into what he suspected was the first true slumber she'd gotten since she'd been poisoned. Yuwen Yue wanted to follow her into his well-earned rest, but he couldn't resist waiting for her to begin shifting towards him in sleep as she always did. When the woman he loved finally rested her head on his chest with a contented sigh, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer to him. The tired spymaster buried his head in his beloved's hair and inhaled, falling asleep before his next breath.
Dawn had just broken as Yuan Song, 13th Prince of Wei, set out from the palace, gloomy groomsmen and an unruly but magnificent horse in tow. While Yuan Song rarely set about his business so early, he knew that transporting Cold Fire from the palace to Qing Shan Yuan would take much longer than normal due to the horse's rebellious nature. The dark stallion had excellent bloodlines and was capable of blazing speed, but he was also completely unmanageable and frightfully stubborn.
Nobody but Yuwen Yue could handle a beast like this, he thought cheerfully as he wended his way through the streets of Chang'an, smiling brightly at the city-folk who were already hard at work even this early in the morning.
His thoughts turned to his friend, and he smiled at the prospect of spending time with one of the few men of honor in all of Wei. While he knew that the taciturn spymaster was much closer to Yan Xun than he was to Yuan Song himself, the 13th prince felt that he could call Yuwen Yue a friend without being a liar. Spending time with such a hard-to-read man was always interesting, and Yuan Song always came away from their meetings impressed with the man's cleverness and gravitas.
And his bedchamber maid, of course, his mind reminded him impishly.
Yuan Song grinned whole-heartedly, not at all abashed at the mental accusation. He'd admitted to himself that he was in love with the feisty, beautiful slave months ago, and he lived for the day when he would take her away from Qing Shan Yuan and its master and make her his woman. She would come willingly, thankful for the chance to leave her life of slavery behind and to be the mistress of his home—and his heart.
The morning light had grown stronger by the time he exited the gates of the city, and he took in the clear sky, the vibrant greenery, and the sun-warmed air with pleasure. Nothing could dampen his mood this day—especially when there was a good chance that he'd soon be with his lady-love. His smile grew broader not just at the prospect of being with Xing'er but at the reality that he was free of the city—and the palace.
Yuan Song's smile dampened a bit as he realized the discomfort he'd been experiencing while in Chang'an only by its current absence. Why would he feel such a relief to be out of the city when he'd seemed to be enjoying the hustle and bustle of humanity while he'd been in the midst of it? What was he trying to get away from?
Images from Jiuyou Platform popped into his mind, dimming his enjoyment of the day like a cloud covering the sun. The young prince felt himself grow cold as he remembered the grisly sight of the severed heads of Yan Xun's siblings being held up by Yuwen Huai and mocked by all of the nobles in attendance. He also recalled the gleeful, eager way his peers had reveled in the misfortune that had befallen his long-time friend at the hands of others they'd both once considered mutual friends.
Not a shred of decency or honor among any of them except Wei Shuye, he mused from atop his fine horse, a rare frown creasing his face in unfamiliar lines. Only he showed any sort of discomfort with the proceedings; everyone else looked like they were having the time of their lives. The murderers themselves were particularly gleeful; how quickly would they turn on me if I fell out of favor with my father?
His heart chilled further as he remembered the stern talk that his mother had given to both him and Chun'er. While he wasn't so foolish as to dismiss the words of one as well-versed in politics and court intrigues as his mother, he couldn't help the fact that so many of her words left him feeling cold inside. After all, if a man as good as his own father could potentially betray him even if he'd done nothing wrong, what good was his life, royal or no?
If I can't even protect myself, then how can I protect the people I care about the most?
Xing'er's smiling face appeared in his mind's eye, and he shivered at the thought of finally gaining her only to lose her due to his father's paranoia or a nobleman's petty personal vendetta. The image of his lady-love bestowing one of her rare smiles on him persisted, however, chasing away many of the bad feelings that had assaulted him.
Yuan Song wasn't made for melancholy, so his bad mood dissipated as quickly as it had formed. After all, he was still alive; Xing'er was still alive; Yuwen Yue was still alive. He was going to give his friend a fine horse. He was going to see the woman he loved. He was going to live well and live on. He was going to marry Xing'er somehow and give her the power owed to a head wife regardless of what other empty-head his family forced him to marry. Maybe they'd even end up ruling Wei together.
Another curse rang out behind him as Cold Fire once again shied away from his handlers, causing Yuan Song to grin madly. He turned his face back towards Qing Shan Yuan and lost himself in fantasies of the future that he and his Xing'er would have together.
Xing'er was disorientated to discover that the amount of light that was hitting her closed eyes was roughly the same as it had been the last time she'd woken up since that would imply that she'd slept an entire day. Of course, considering how comfy she currently was, the idea of resting for so long wasn't at all far-fetched. After all, the surface on which she was reclining was warm, safe, and solid, so how could she complain? It also smelled like Yuwen Yue, which suited her just fine.
The implications of her observations hit her full-force and caused her eyes to fly open in consternation. She was mortified to confirm that, yes, she was actually lying on top of her former master—with her arm braced around his middle, no less. She somehow managed to avoid making a sound, settling instead for tipping her head slowly back in the hope that he was still asleep so that she could extricate herself gracefully.
Of course, the infuriating man was already awake, looking at her with his typical bland, vaguely-mocking expression. She stared back at him, completely at a loss as to what she could say. While he didn't seem particularly disturbed by her presence on top of him, he wasn't giving any of his feelings away.
"Congratulations on not screaming this time, Xing'er," he said, his expression growing smug.
She scowled at him.
"Why would being in bed with you make me scream, Yuwen Yue?"
Her breath caught at the intense look he gave her. His eyes were filled with an odd sort of fire, but she couldn't figure out what she'd said that could've caused such a reaction.
"I'm not complaining, Xing'er," he said, his eyes still gleaming. "I'm just glad that you no longer feel the need to verbalize the terror you feel at waking up with me."
"Who feels terror?" she muttered.
"Your eyes were pretty big," he said in obvious disagreement. "What were you afraid of, Xing'er?"
He'd murmured the last big huskily, and she found herself unable to look away from his compelling gaze—especially when she was so close to his face. She also found herself unable to dredge up many of the reservations she'd cobbled together in her muddled brain the day before. She felt better, and no memories she held affected her more strongly than the potency of her beloved's expression.
Xing'er's stomach decided to either save her or betray her by rumbling; she couldn't decide whether to be embarrassed or relieved. Yuwen Yue's expression turned mocking again, but she could detect an overall good humor in his eyes. Maybe he'd seen something in her own gaze that had reassured him.
"I can hear that you're in danger of starving, Xing'er, but I can't give you the chance to eat me out of house and home unless you get off of me."
She rolled away from him as if he were on fire, trying to deny to herself that she was the one who felt feverish. Not in the foolish, head-swimming way she'd felt yesterday, but in the same way she'd always felt after Yuwen Yue had touched her with his hands or with his gaze.
So you've completely dismissed your thoughts and plans from yesterday? How convenient, her snide side taunted.
No, I've simply learned new information that counter-balanced what I learned yesterday. After all, he cured me. He gave me back my sword. He let me sleep in his bed. Now he's going to give me good food. And he's looked at me...that way. Several times.
Those sound like the rationalizations of a kept woman, not the inheritor of the Wind and Cloud Decree.
Instead of continuing this inner battle, she rolled out of bed herself and went in search of a robe to wear. To her dismay, she could find nothing. Yuwen Yue, of course, had already managed to put on one of his pristine white robes and to look as immaculate and handsome as ever. She, on the other hand, was still standing there in her under-robes looking like a ragamuffin. Xing'er did her best to ignore the ugly, knowing chuckle part of her mind gave her.
She couldn't help but admire her beloved's effortless elegance as he opened a door and ordered a waiting servant to bring several trays of morning food and tea as quickly as possible. Several voices offered their assent, and Xing'er knew that they'd likely soon have enough food to feed all of the Yue guards brought to their chamber.
Xing'er's eyes widened again as she realized that she'd just thought of this room as theirs. She shut out the insults generated by her own mind, not needing her snide side's help in cursing herself for a fool. The image of that woman smiling up at Yuwen Yue flashed through her mind again, but its ability to hurt her seemed much less potent when her mind's eye realized that he hadn't been looking at Meng Feng the same way he had just looked at Xing'er.
She glanced up at the sound of his wardrobe opening again and saw him pull out a white garment that she instantly recognized as the one she'd worn to the lantern festival nearly a year before. He walked up to her and held the robe out to her, and she prided herself on the fact that her hands weren't shaking as she put the robe on and tied it closed. Her composure slipped, however, as she saw the look on his face.
He definitely didn't look at Meng Feng like that, she informed her mind, which wisely stayed silent.
Xing'er thanked Yuwen Yue for the robe; he placidly told her that her sisters had brought it by earlier, and she knew that she'd have to have a talk with her well-meaning siblings. After all, she wouldn't want to give her former master the wrong idea about her feelings. Multiple parts of her mind produced varying reactions of scorn and mirth, and she couldn't disagree with any of them.
Except that I'd love nothing more than to be able to give Yuwen Yue the right idea about my feelings, she admitted.
She looked up and caught him gazing at her again, his thoughts so clear for once that she was almost convinced that they were a mask he was wearing to convince her of his sincerity. Her suspicions from the previous day stirred, and she tried to convince herself that maybe she'd been right about him after all. The various parts of her mind didn't even deign to give her a response; even her snide side was having a hard time rebutting her comparison of the look he'd given Meng Feng yesterday next to the look he was giving Xing'er now.
Yuwen Yue walked over to his desk and picked up what looked like a golden scroll case and turned back towards her, his face once again going inscrutable. He walked towards her slowly, his eyes gaining intensity without giving away his purpose. Wordlessly, he held the double scroll case out to her; she took it from him equally silently. She looked at him in question, but he simply dropped his gaze to the item in her hands.
Not knowing what else to do, Xing'er opened the case, ignoring its elaborate craftsmanship in her eagerness to know its contents. At first she was confused as she was confronted by a scroll that seemed to have random facts about unknown people written in a precise hand. Comprehension dawned on her as she began to recognize some of the names as illustrious people throughout the land. Noblemen. Royals. Powerful politicians. Spies.
Xing'er's hands started shaking as she found her own entry, which was detailed enough that anyone who read it and knew her would be able to figure out her old identity. She continued looking down at the scroll, but her eyes weren't absorbing any more of the words. Yuwen Yue had risked his life and the lives of his men in order to steal not only the cure to her poison but also this information repository that could've compromised her security.
"Th-thank you, Yuwen Yue," she whispered.
"Who said I did it for you, Xing'er?" Yuwen Yue asked blandly. "As you said, your identity is a liability to us, and we need to do whatever we can to conceal it. I've put too much effort into training you to lose you now; I was acting purely in my own best interests."
Her doubts and fears from yesterday seemed so paltry when compared to the mountain of evidence of Yuwen Yue's care for her. She mentally added "risked his life to protect my identity" to her list of things he'd done for her recently. Even her most skeptical side seemed willing to release most of her doubts about Yuwen Yue's feelings for her.
The sound of paper being sliced drew her attention back to Yuwen Yue, who was, to her shock, cutting her information out of the scroll regardless of the damage he was doing to exceedingly valuable intelligence. He seemed completely unperturbed by the ramifications of his actions and handed the damning piece of paper over to Xing'er as if it were a list of dishes he wanted the kitchen to prepare for the evening meal.
"What are you-? That is, what do you want me to..."
Xing'er was at a loss for words, and Yuwen Yue didn't seem to be in a hurry to help her to decide what to do with his gift. He stared at her calmly, refusing to tell her how he expected her to act.
"Why should I care what you do with it, Xing'er?" he finally said. "You can hang it on your wall if you want. Or maybe you could send it to the emperor-or, perhaps, Yuwen Huai. I'm sure they'd both love to read it."
"Yuwen Yue! You-!" Xing'er said in exasperation, scowling all the harder when that smirk appeared on her beloved's face again.
She knew that continuing this discussion was pointless, so she turned her attention to the desk, which had what she was looking for on it. Looking Yuwen Yue in the eye, she touched the corner of the information about her past to a candle's flame and watched in satisfaction as the paper caught fire. Xing'er held onto it for a few more seconds before dropping it into a metal pot that seemed to have been formed for burning sensitive documents.
"I hope you won't burn the rest of my gifts to you, Xing'er," he said, the approval in his gaze belying his words.
"That depends on how useful I find them," she said, smiling sweetly.
Smug mischief danced in his eyes as he withdrew a small, rolled-up piece of paper from its hiding place on his desk.
"Would you find a piece of correspondence I stole from the head Liang spy useful, Xing'er?" he asked.
Xing'er's eyes widened and she stretched out her hand eagerly, not even caring about the amused glint in Yuwen Yue's gaze as he smirked at her. At that moment, however, the doors banged open and a bevy of servants poured into the room, bearing platters full of delicious food that made Xing'er's stomach rumble again. She pointedly ignored Yuwen Yue's self-satisfied expression.
Her sisters also came in and reunited with her, squealing their delight that she was recovered—and, of course, that she was wearing the robes they'd picked out for her. She tried to admonish them about not providing her with more practical robes, but they babbled some transparent nonsense about how feeling pretty would help her to recover faster. They eagerly left the two of them alone together, their lack of subtlety making Xing'er blush.
Yuwen Yue seemed completely untroubled, however, sitting down at the table and readying his chopsticks without a care in the world. Xing'er stared at him in open bewilderment, unable to grasp that he was really going to put off reading a letter to the Liang spy that could have important intelligence in it in order to eat.
"Aren't you going to sit, Xing'er?" he asked as if he'd never broached the topic of the letter. "You're the one who was so hungry, after all."
"But...Yuwen Yue...the letter..."
"Will still be here after our meal, Xing'er."
"But I-"
"-am too faint from hunger to read such an important document? I agree, Xing'er. Eat."
She frowned fiercely at her beloved but did as he said, unable to be too upset about the prospect of enjoying a meal alone with him. Maybe he was right after all and the rest of the world could wait for awhile.
The buzz of excitement going around Qing Shan Yuan over the master's waking up and requesting breakfast for two initially masked the more low-key entrance of the handsome young man. In fact, had she not heard him addressed as "Your Highness," she probably wouldn't even have paid him much attention. While she wasn't inclined to indulge in gossip often, she couldn't help but be happy for her new master's recovery—and the implication of him breaking his lengthy fast with Xing'er in his room.
Meng Feng applied herself to her sword drills with diligence, her gratefulness and loyalty to Yuwen Yue as compelling as a poison pill in terms of motivation for excellence. After all, if she were ever to repay him for what he'd done for her and her people, she was going to have to keep her hard-earned skills honed to a razor's edge. Her plan was to serve Yuwen Yue for the rest of her life, however long or short it may be, and she knew she'd have to keep pushing herself to her limit in order to stay in shape.
The first time she looked at the prince she chalked up to simple curiosity. After all, one didn't see a prince every day, and he was admittedly good-looking. The second time she blamed on the way he laughed at something Yue Qi had said. Sudden, loud noises were distracting, right? The third time, she made up the excuse—the reason! her mind asserted—that she wanted to make sure that Yue Qi didn't need any assistance with their honored guest. She wouldn't want to let her new master down on her first day at Qing Shan Yuan by allowing such an important visitor to be unsatisfied, could she?
Why are you paying so much attention to that arrogant royal? she asked herself after the fourth time. Aren't they all the same? How many of them have you killed for? How many of them have your fellow assassins killed for?
The good-natured, amiable man that kept drawing her eyes didn't look like the assassin-hiring type, though. He seemed to be care-free and happy, and the Yue guards, while polite, seemed to regard the man with genuine affection. They had not been so open and free when Yuwen Huai had come to visit earlier to check on her master's health.
Not that "better than Yuwen Huai" is much of an endorsement, she thought as she forced herself to refocus on her exercises. After all, surely these men know that Yuwen Huai's the man who hired us multiple times to kill Yuwen Yue and Xing'er.
She managed to lose herself in the drill again, trying her hardest to not pay any attention to the handsome prince with the adorable smile.
He's not that handsome, she mentally huffed in frustration as she slashed her sword with particular vigor. There are plenty of men out there who are much better-looking. And so what if his smile's adorable and his manner's pleasant? All that means is that he's naive, spoiled, and completely unaware of the political powder keg we're all sitting on that could blow at any minute—if it hasn't already.
Yue Qi seems to be handling him quite well, she thought as she completed another complex form, congratulating herself on definitely not looking at the prince but at the Yue guard instead. In fact, I would swear that he's trying…to...distract…
The pieces clicked into place as Meng Feng realized that Yue Qi was trying to give the master and Xing'er as much time together as possible before allowing the outside world to intrude. This was a sentiment that she could get behind, so she figured that she needed to do her duty for the good of her master.
After all, she thought, sheathing her sword and setting off at a determined trot, the least I can do for my new master is to ensure that he has plenty of time with Xing'er. Though the prospect of interacting with a spoiled, pampered prince brings me no pleasure, I feel I must do so on behalf of my new master. Besides, a man like him could never regard a woman like me as anything more than a temporary amusement, and since I know that, I'm definitely not in danger of developing deeper feelings for him. Not that I've developed any feelings for him…
Yuan Song felt no qualms whatsoever about cheerfully admitting to himself that he was attracted to the lovely woman who was approaching them. After all, he'd come to Qing Shan Yuan to see one beautiful woman and was going to get to see two. What more could a man ask for?
The black-clad woman was even more striking up close. Her eyes were full of both honesty and concealment, hinting at a personality that was rich and deep. He'd already seen some of her abilities, of course; not that Yuan Song would expect someone dressed as she was and spending time in Yuwen Yue's courtyard with a sword to be a serving girl. She gave him a reserved yet friendly smile, and he felt himself flash a grin that he knew was just a little too wide and silly. He regretted nothing.
Yue Qi made the introductions and told Yuan Song a bit about Meng Feng's role in the Afterlife Camp raid; the woman herself picked up the tale and told it from her point of view. She had a compelling presence and expressive eyes that gave her the means to tell a story in a way that couldn't help but captivate an audience.
At least, I consider myself well and truly captivated, Yuan Song blithely confessed to himself as the woman narrated her fight with the head Liang spy.
The prince lost all track of time, not minding in the least when Meng Feng segued into a tale about an adventure that she and her fellow assassins had experienced involving disguises, a brothel, and an abduction gone awry. She had him and Yue Qi laughing at the mental images she called up one moment while making them breathless with suspense the next. Yuan Song couldn't remember the last time he'd been so entertained.
Probably the last time I was here with Xing'er, he admitted, thinking about his lady-love for the first time in awhile. He did his best to ignore the stab of guilt he felt at his lack of attentiveness—especially given Xing'er's current condition.
"Thank you for the excellent story, Miss Feng," he said, grinning widely at the woman. "However, I really need to talk to Xing...I mean Yuwen Yue. Yes, I need to talk to Yuwen Yue. About a horse. That I want to give him. He's really spirited, you know. The horse, I mean. Not Yuwen Yue."
Meng Feng gave him a tranquil smile and a nod of acquiescence.
"I understand, Your Highness," she said, bowing slightly. "I guess I can tell you about the time I stole a priceless vase from the Crown Prince of Liang's palace later."
Yuan Song's interest was piqued, and his heart was torn between wanting to go spend time with Xing'er and wanting to listen to this fascinating woman weave another spell-binding tale. His gaze flicked over to the servant quarters where he knew Xing'er would be convalescing, but they automatically tracked back to the beautiful woman standing in front of him expectantly.
What harm could a few more minutes' delay do? he asked himself. After all, I'm sure Xing'er could use a bit of extra rest, and I really want to make sure that Meng Feng...Miss Feng feels comfortable around me. After all, I wouldn't her to think me a royal snob. Surely Xing'er wouldn't mind if I spent some time with another woman; I'm not going to fall in love with Meng F...Miss Feng or anything.
"Now that I think about it, maybe Yuwen Yue and Xing'er could use a bit more rest," he said, trying to sound as casual as possible. "In the meantime, could you tell me about the Crown Prince of Liang? What was he like? How did his palace look? How did you manage to steal such a priceless work of art from him without getting caught?"
The woman smiled softly at his enthusiasm, not seeming at all put off by it. After a simple nod of affirmation, she launched into an engaging story that began with her infiltrating the prince's infamously-large harem and trying to fit in with the other women. She smiled at him as she extolled the virtues of the prince's generosity in regards to beauty products, and he was lost.
Xing'er's chopsticks dueled with Yuwen Yue's, each one mercilessly slicing and blocking the other in the fight over the last piece of beef. The man knew how much she liked this particular dish, but he was clearly determined to take the meat from her anyway. She redoubled her efforts.
Yuwen Yue stared back at her tranquilly, obviously interested not so much in the meat as in besting her. He flicked his eyes to his left casually, and her own followed them to the rolled-up piece of paper near his empty hand. She was only distracted for a second, but that moment was long enough for him to snatch the beef from the otherwise-empty plate and place it in his mouth before she could blurt out her indignation.
To Xing'er's exasperation, he then proceeded to sip his cup of tea contemplatively as if he had nothing more pressing to do today than normal administrative tasks. She looked away from him, pointedly refusing to give him the satisfaction of so much as a scowl. Somehow she didn't think that her defiant gesture affected Yuwen Yue at all.
At long last, he set his teacup down—only to reach out for the teapot again as if to pour himself another cup. Xing'er couldn't help but scowl at him this time, and he seemed to relent as if the frown itself had been his goal all along.
"I suppose I could wait a bit before I have another cup of tea after all," he said, his hand closing over the rolled piece of paper more slowly than was necessary. "This correspondence probably is quite important, so I should read it as soon as possible."
"'As soon as possible' would've been ages ago," Xing'er muttered.
"What did you say, Xing'er?"
"I said, 'It's possible that whoever wrote this did so ages ago," she said, giving him her most innocent look. "We don't know how old the letter is."
He didn't even deign to give her observation a response as he began to slowly uncurl the letter. Xing'er knew better than to hurry him, knowing that Yuwen Yue never did anything before he was ready. She leaned forward in her chair, her body posture giving away the eagerness she was trying to keep from her face.
The first hint that Xing'er got that something might be wrong was when he parted the paper to open up the final fold. Yuwen Yue's expression didn't alter, but his hand hesitated slightly as he moved to unfold the paper open at last. Xing'er watched him closely as he looked down at the paper, her own eyes widening when his face lost what little color it had managed to regain during his recent rest.
"What's-? Yuwen Y-!" she stammered, standing up from her seat but staying on her side of the table, knowing that trying to force him to tell her the problem would only draw things out longer.
Her beloved said nothing, however; in fact, she'd never seen this particular expression on his face before. The closest look she could compare it to was the one he'd worn right after she'd finally confessed her true identity. Even that expression, however, had had some element of foreknowledge to it, some sort of grim acceptance of a long-buried possibility.
He's shocked, her mind finally supplied. Whatever's in that letter is so shocking that he's incapable of reacting to it outwardly.
"Yuwen Yue," she said softly, trying to draw him out. "What's wrong? Is there bad news in the letter? Is someone important in danger? Please tell me so I can help you."
He stared at her impassively, almost as if he hadn't heard her speak at all.
"Are you ill again, Yuwen Yue?" she asked, stepping forward in concern when he once again failed to react to her question.
Hesitantly, she took the necessary couple of steps to reach his side. She held out her hand towards the paper, her eyes questioning him as it came within her grasp. Just as her hand closed around the edge of the paper, he came back to life and crumpled it in his hand, clasping it to his chest possessively as he stood up with an uncharacteristic lack of grace. His face was closed off, fierce, and suspicious, reminding her of their earliest moments together.
He's still the same old Young Master Yue, the snide part of her said, its suspicions of Yuwen Yue's feelings for her reawakening. He can make a bunch of pretty gestures and try to lull you into obedient complacency with a few smoldering looks, but in terms of actually letting you into his life? Forget it. And why would he trust you with whatever disaster is spelled out on that page? After all, who are you but the daughter of his most hated enemy? What choice do you have but to take your sisters and run before that suspicion turns into loathing?
Whether some of her feelings showed in her face or he simply came back to his senses, Yuwen Yue's posture eased a bit as the paper crackled softly against his robes. He looked away from her, his eyes studying the ornate wooden shelving across the room that held a number of treasures, one of which was a hexagonal wooden box with gold detail work that seemed to draw his gaze more than most.
The silence was heavy, and Xing'er could feel their relationship balancing on a razor's edge. Maybe Yuwen Yue could, too, because he walked decisively over to his shelving area and came away with a shallow wooden box. Once Xing'er realized what it contained, her eyes widened as memories flashed through her mind. She remembered the last time she'd seen Yuwen Yue's shaving blades, the last time she'd held his life in her hands so literally.
Xing'er had lost track of the paper; her eyes had been drawn to the shaving kit so completely that she hadn't seen where he'd placed it. Still not meeting her eyes, Yuwen Yue strode back towards the table, placing the box on top of it and sitting back down in his seat. She stood there uncertainly, knowing that anything she said or did could set him off again.
"Come," he said lowly, his gaze on the box in front of him.
She bristled at first, part of her insulted that he was back to ordering her about like an iron bell. The tone of his voice penetrated her ire, however, and she heard the weariness and sadness in it. Xing'er had no choice but to obey; how could she deny the man she loved anything given the circumstances?
Not bothering to reply, Xing'er stepped closer to him and picked up the same large blade she'd used to shave him so long ago. It trembled in her hand, and she willed it to stop, her desires so vastly different this time that the realization almost made her dizzy.
Then I wanted to kill him but was afraid, she mused as she knelt before her former master. Now I'm afraid that I'll kill him accidentally due to my emotions.
Ever so slowly, she raised the blade to his throat, noticing that his eyes were now closed much the same as they'd been that night. As she placed the razor against his skin, he began to speak, almost causing her to cut his throat as she'd feared she would.
"When I was a boy, I met another young boy and became friends with him," he murmured. "I called him 'Brother Yu,' and he called me 'Brother Yue.' After he went back to his homeland, we began exchanging letters, vowing to be pen friends for the rest of our lives."
He continued to unfold his tale as Xing'er slowly shaved the slight stubble that had begun to form on her beloved's pale face. She tried to figure out what his story had to do with the letter that had caused him to react so harshly, but she continued to draw a blank as she focused on not slitting the throat of the man she loved.
"A few nights ago, I wrote my pen friend again, telling him of my worries and troubles in cryptic figurative language as I always have," he said, at once getting her attention with that admission. "I sent the message off late that night, knowing that it would take at least a day if not more to reach its destination."
The truth began to dawn on Xing'er, causing her to halt her ministrations to her former master. He didn't seem to notice that she'd stopped shaving him and continued as if he'd forgotten she was even there.
"In the fight, the Liang spy slashed open my stolen robe, causing me to almost lose your pill. I lashed out in retaliation, slicing open her own robe. This paper fell out, and she reacted as if she'd just lost something very precious. Had this not been her own letter..."
Yuwen Yue trailed off, and Xing'er had to set the blade back in its proper place as her hands started to tremble uncontrollably.
"Is it possible that she's kidnapped your pen friend and that he needs to be rescued?" she asked, her question ringing falsely in her own ears. She already knew the truth.
Yuwen Yue sat silently for so long that Xing'er didn't know if he was going to reply.
"I keep coming back to the look on her face," he said quietly. "At the time, I thought it was the look of someone who had just lost important state secrets, but now...No...I'm sure..."
Xing'er had no idea how she'd managed to stop her hands from reaching out and cupping her beloved's face. She'd known him long enough to be able to tell that, behind his hard exterior, he was reeling on the inside. An irreverent question popped into her mind, and she found it popping out of her mouth before she could stop it.
"Is finding out that your long-term pen friend is one of your greatest enemies better or worse than finding out that your former bedchamber maid whom you trained yourself is one of your greatest enemies?"
Yuwen Yue's eyes flew open and focused on her as she paled at the question she hadn't meant to ask. To her surprise, the slightest bit of humor glimmered in her former master's eyes. This close, she could see the maelstrom of pain, grief, and betrayal swirling in his gaze; she was powerless to look away from it—or to walk away from him.
"For a spymaster, I've shown ridiculously poor judgment lately, haven't I?"
"Not necessarily, Yuwen Yue," Xing'er said tentatively, daring to tease him again. "After all, you did allow an assassin who'd just tried to kill you to lead your secret mission into the Afterlife Camp's lair, and that turned out pretty well."
"Your faith in my decision-making skills is touching, Xing'er."
"And you trusted me to shave you even though you know who I really am," Xing'er said, hating herself for not being able to keep the slight tremor out of her voice.
"That hasn't worked out quite as well," Yuwen Yue said in that contemplative voice that drove her crazy. "You haven't even managed to finish shaving me yet."
Her hands started to tremble again, this time for an entirely different reason than before. His expression belied the casual nature of his words, causing her mouth to go dry and her heart to start to pound. Xing'er gingerly picked up the razor and resumed her work, her body even more aware of the solid warmth of her former master than it had been at the start of the task when she'd been distracted by his story.
She could feel his eyes boring into her down-turned face, but she willfully ignored the sensation as she devoted all of her attention to finishing her task. That snide voice that had been questioning Yuwen Yue fell silent again as she realized that he was demonstrating his total trust in her regardless of her former identity. The blade almost slipped in her hands as the truth suddenly coalesced in her mind: she would never be able to leave Yuwen Yue no matter what happened.
I've gone too far, she informed the rest of her mind. He's let me in too far. I could no more leave him now than I could become Empress of Wei. I'm his now. I'll always be his.
Xing'er was surprised at the level of peace she felt in light of her newly-gained understanding, but then she wondered why she was surprised at all since the sentiment looked so readily apparent in retrospect.
Is this how Yuwen Yue felt when he finally learned about my identity? After all, he should've known, but he didn't want to acknowledge the truth. Now that I've finally reached that point myself in regards to my feelings for Yuwen Yue, I can't blame him for not recognizing the obvious.
A final rasp of the razor over her beloved's soft yet hard jawline brought her task to a close, so she gently placed the blade back in its box and stood up. Her eyes met Yuwen Yue's, and her hands moved of their own volition to do what they'd wanted to do since she'd started—what they'd wanted to do for so long.
Lightly as a feather at first, she skimmed her fingers along his jawline, ostensibly removing the slight bit of stubble from his smooth face. Her hands lingered, however, making a more solid contact as she rested them under his chin and used her thumbs to rub his jaws more thoroughly. Xing'er knew that there wasn't so much as a speck of freshly-shaven hair left on her beloved's face, but she caressed it with her thumbs anyway, unable to stop her hands from moving where they willed.
"I'm so sorry, Yuwen Yue," she whispered to him, her thumbs giving up any pretense of wiping his chin and moving to caress his cheeks. "So sorry..."
The pain that had dominated Yuwen Yue's eyes had been replaced by emotions that were equally intense but much more welcome. He seemed as incapable of looking away from her as she felt in regards to him, and he made no objections when her hands gently tipped his face up towards hers. Slowly—ever so slowly—she lowered her face towards his, her whole body thrilling when she saw his gaze darkening and his head tilting back so that his lips would be able to meet hers.
"Trouble's coming! Trouble's coming! Trouble's coming!"
Xing'er had never wanted to kill that stupid bird as much as she wanted to at that moment; she wished she could shoot fire from her eyes at him and roast him on the spot. Yuwen Yue seemed equally displeased, but he gently removed her hands from his face just as the doors banged open and Yue Qi strode through them.
"Good afternoon, Young Master Yue," Yue Qi said, amusement and chagrin both playing in his eyes as he picked up on the heavy mood in the room. "His Highness, Prince Yuan Song, has come to visit you and is standing outside."
Xing'er scowled again, realizing with satisfaction that Yuwen Yue also seemed less than amused.
"I told him that you'd be delighted to see him but that I should make sure that you're...fully recovered."
Yuwen Yue gave his head guard one of his dry looks, conveying his sentiments—and her own—perfectly. Her beloved looked at her and wordlessly asked her if she minded getting caught in his room even though she'd been freed and was supposed to be resting.
Yuan Song doesn't know I've been freed, she thought, so he'll likely think nothing of my insistence on caring for my "master" given the circumstances. He's likely not observant enough to notice the lack of a silver bell, or he might chalk its absence up to my recent illness. Besides, I honestly don't care if he guesses the truth at this point; there's no going back now.
He saw her acquiescence and nodded at Yue Qi, who turned around and ushered the prince inside. Yuan Song was obviously surprised to see her in Yuwen Yue's rooms, but she could see his somewhat simple mind come to the conclusions that she'd hoped he would draw.
"Still serving your master well, I see, Xing'er," he said, grinning at her. "Your devotion does you credit, but you should be in your room resting."
"There's nowhere else I'd rather be," she said ambiguously, allowing him to decide whether she meant here or her own room.
"Of course," Yuan Song said before smiling again. "In fact, I'll let you get some rest now. I need to talk to Yuwen Yue, but once we're done, maybe you and I can talk some."
Xing'er gave the prince a polite smile, but she didn't want to do anything to encourage his obvious feelings for her. She hoped that he would get over them soon, because she genuinely liked the prince in spite of his clueless naivete. Her heart belonged to Yuwen Yue, of course, but there was still a space in it for this well-meaning prince who, unlike the bulk of his family, actually seemed like a decent person.
"I will, of course, do everything in my power to please His Highness," she said, giving him a haphazard bow and that sweetly insincere look that never failed to make him laugh.
He did so; Xing'er knew that the prince appreciated her sass and would be heartbroken if she treated him with too much respect. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Yuwen Yue was scowling, and her heart warmed at the thought that he might be jealous of the prince. Her beloved stood up abruptly, his eyes catching hers for a searing moment as his face was turned briefly away from the prince.
The look in his eyes was shockingly open and vulnerable, perhaps as a result of the unpleasant truth he'd just learned about yet another person he'd let so far into his life. Xing'er found herself wanting to reassure him of the sincerity of her feelings for him since he'd so recently done the same for her. Before he strode out the door behind the prince, Xing'er called out to him.
"I'll finish shaving you later, Master," she said, a husky tone entering her voice without her permission. "I think I missed a spot."
The man she loved paused and turned around, his eyes telling her that he'd received her message.
"I'll have to punish you for your negligence later, Xing'er," he said.
"Xing'er will obey," she said, dipping her head slightly.
Yuwen Yue stared at her for a few moments longer before turning around and firmly propelling Yuan Song out the door. The silence he left in his wake was deafening; even the Cangwu bird was quiet. She slowly turned her head and looked at him, her eyes burning. He stared back defiantly.
"Missed a spot! Missed a spot! Missed a spot!" he gleefully squawked.
"Oh, shut up," she said, scowling at him as she opened the door herself and left their room behind, not wanting to stay in it without Yuwen Yue. The parrot, of course, had to have the last word, his screeches following her out into the courtyard.
"Punish you! Punish you! Punish you!"
Multiple pairs of eyes glanced at her in sympathy and shock before looking uneasily away.
"Xing'er will obey! Xing'er will obey! Xing'er will obey!"
She could tell it was going to be a long day.
AN: I was originally going to end this chapter with YS and YWY's talk, but this thing is long enough already and I figured I may as well end on a good XingYue note. Next week: YS/YWY's talk; XingYue proposal. Two weeks: Vengeance Xing'er-style—with Meng Feng's help. Three weeks: Vengeance fallout. Four weeks: More vengeance fallout. And stuff. I dunno.
Musical rec: "Fire and Ice" by Olivia Bray captures Xing'er's doubts, fears, and ultimate decision quite well. In fact, I listened to this song a lot this past week in preparation for writing this chapter, so that influence likely bled through.
Update: Angel Chua continues to torture us all with the slowest of burns in "Secret Princess" on angelchuablog dot wordpress dot com. (She's also posted a fabulous picture of Yuwen Yue as the header that I've already saved for...writing inspiration purposes. I highly recommend it based on my knowledge of my readership;).)