Secession

by Red River

COMPLETE. Combination of games and ROTK novel. Zhou Yu is dying, and has one last chance to tell his story to someone before he does. ZYxSC with other pairings on the side.

36. Chapter 36

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.

Warnings: Violence, minor adult content, slash.

Description: The story of Sun Ce and Zhou Yu's past – will eventually be Zhou Yu x Sun Ce, with other pairings mentioned on the side (LM/XQ, DQ/LX, and GN/SSX)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Secession – Part 35

The unspoken drifted through the wagon like a haunting wraith, brushing each side of the pathetic canvas roof before trickling in water droplets to land at Chen Hao's feet. The soldier adjusted his position gently, tucking both frozen legs underneath him as best he could and pulling the rejected jacket tighter around his shoulders. Zhou Yu took a deep breath and released it, letting the wisping steam of his exhale drift away in the breeze that suddenly lessened, dropping almost to a dead whisper as the wagon crested a small hill and entered the shallow valley beyond it.

The general sighed, raising his blood-scarred hand to rub at the headache beneath each temple. "Children change everything. Whatever Sun Ce might have imagined, the birth of Xiao Qiao's son had an inescapable effect on our household. Hardly a day went by without some new surprise or complication arising – and even through burying myself in my work, I was unable to fully avoid interaction with the child."

Chen Hao shifted uncertainly, brushing at the loosening bun on the back of his head. Despite the commander's unforgiving disposition, his dislike for children wasn't something that the soldier could understand very well –Chen Hao couldn't remember a time when he'd not longed for fatherhood, and the birth of his son Li had been the most joyous event in his recent memory. Li brought such an immense gradient of light into their household – in his young eyes, even dull tasks became new again. Menial chores like the braiding of ropes and turning of sod could be interesting, when performed with someone willing to learn. But something about the recalled displeasure lingering in Zhou Yu's eyes kept the soldier's family musings behind his lips, and he said nothing as the hoarse words continued to spill out around them.

"True to her word, Xiao Qiao did not ask me to raise her child. She and her sister took care of the infant almost completely by themselves in the first months of his life, with Lu Meng hanging over their shoulders. He was rather useless, though – he never had any skill with children, even his own." Zhou Yu shook his head mildly, and Chen Hao coughed before quietly voicing his sudden curiosity.

"Lord Lu Meng… did he… does he like his children?" It seemed impossible that something as troublesome as a baby could truly please the sour man who'd been wringing his acidic tongue through the general's stories – but on the other hand, children were known to be enormously persuasive. Even Meicheng, who hadn't wanted a baby in the slightest and had lectured vigorously about how ill-prepared they were to care for one, had grown to love and cherish Li within months of his delivery.

Zhou Yu chuckled, a dark sound that slipped easily over the lessened breeze around them and disappeared into the late sky. "Lu Meng is a negative man by nature. I'm afraid his attitude has refused to change over the years… but outward appearances can be deceiving. In truth, Lu Meng treasures his children above all else – and though he has never been very good at expressing his love, it is impossible for those of us who know him well to miss the change in his demeanor wherever they are concerned." The general shook his head, a slight smile lingering on his thin lips. "Sun Ce teased him mercilessly for it, after Xuan was born."

Chen Hao blinked, another inquiry settling over his tongue at the Wu king's name. The soldier shoved a few loose bangs out of his eyes and burrowed into his thin jacket, hiding from the tendrils of wind licking at his bare face and sucking the breath from his lungs. Zhou Yu paused, the light of reminiscence shining in his eyes, and Chen Hao took advantage of the brief silence to ask his question.

"Did Lord Sun Ce like children, too?" From the general's account of their conversations before the birth of Xiao Qiao's son, it didn't seem like the lord of Wu had been very pleased to welcome a toddler into the extensive family – but Zhou Yu's words were ragged and time-torn, and the difficulty of the situation in question might have colored the great king's actions.

To his mild surprise, Zhou Yu merely shrugged, the small motion flickering through his bandages where they rested beneath one pale hand. "I don't think so. Not much, in any case – he did not spend a great deal of time either with Xuan or with the others, when they came." A dark light of thoughtfulness crept through the onyx eyes, as though his words had tied themselves into knots and refused to smoothly slide through the weave of his answer. "Sun Ce… when he was with the children, it was as though time turned back for him – he acted more like one of them than an authority figure. He could play with them like someone their own age, and he did from time to time, but…"

Zhou Yu broke off and shook his head, pale confusion littering his brow in light furrows. "I'm afraid I can't explain. Suffice to say, he and I spent a good deal of time away from our wives once their children arrived. It was more comfortable for both of us to be separated from our heirs."

Chen Hao nodded slowly, his mind wandering back to the first months of his own son's life. There had been so much responsibility, and so much uncertainty – the right way to hold the infant, the right way to sleep beside him, the right things to pattern into his small parroting voice. In a way, it almost made sense that Sun Ce was not very fond of children – the lord of Wu never seemed to have grown up completely himself, and in that sense perhaps the children were more like competition and playmates than a second, dependent generation.

Then the soldier's mind stuttered to a halt, and his eyes widened as he realized the full implication of the general's words. His breath stalled momentarily in his lungs, fighting back the currents of breeze redoubling speed around them and impeding his heartbeat as Zhou Yu sighed painfully, rubbing at his throat as though in great agony. Chen Hao found himself coughing, drawing his commander's dark gaze up to his struggling expression as he ran through the explanation once more in his mind.

Their children. Our heirs. Which meant there had been more children than just Xuan. It meant the elder Lady Qiao would have children, too – and during Sun Ce's lifetime, if they were heartily avoided by Wu's founder and his strategist. Chen Hao shook his head as a slight flush stole over his features, brought on from the lack of air in his lungs and the thought of Sun Ce's wife locked in a relationship like her sister's. It seemed quite uncharacteristic for the dignified, reserved woman whose deep eyes had been shining so clearly through Zhou Yu's stories…

"Chen Hao?" The sound of his name on those frost-bitten lips never failed to make the soldier shiver. His commander's obsidian gaze narrowed, though whether in annoyance or puzzlement it was difficult to tell. "Is something wrong?"

Chen Hao swallowed hard, forcing breath to resume its reluctant trek to his lungs. The night sifted like dusk over his tongue as he cleared his throat, fighting the rush of embarrassment in his stomach at the very insinuation of such actions on the part of the graceful Lady Qiao. He didn't want to think about it, not really – but his mind couldn't help pondering what kind of a man the elder Lady Qiao would have chosen, and who could possibly have matched her poised dignity.

"Chen Hao."

The soldier jumped slightly, startled by the general's sharp voice sliding through the wagon around them. Zhou Yu was still watching him, dark eyes curious and unintelligible beneath the fading starlight. Chen Hao felt his flush deepening as he realized he'd ignored the previous question – five fingers reached up to tug self-consciously on a loose strand of hair and his voice barely braised a mumble as his inquiry stumbled forth.

"Elder Lady Qiao – was she involved with… I mean, did she have a lover?"

Zhou Yu blinked, his features openly surprised at the unexpected source of his subordinate's preoccupation. For a moment, he remained speechless, staring up into Chen Hao's abashed face with his lips just barely open. Then a jagged cough tore itself from the fallen general's throat and exploded into the renewed breeze around them, and his gravel words found an outlet for their bafflement.

"What?"

If his commander had sounded angry in the slightest, Chen Hao would have sealed his lips and forgotten the question entirely – but Zhou Yu just seemed confused, as though his mind had struggled and utterly failed to draw a parallel between this question and the last. The soldier squeezed one arm around his middle, a vain attempt to quash the quiet noises of hunger that had suddenly become noticeable between the slats of the sliding wind, and repeated his inquiry.

"Did she have a lover?"

The general blinked again, onyx eyes lost in the shipwreck of his subordinate's question. Slowly, he shook his head, long hair trailing absently over the rough floorboards.

"…No. As far as I am aware, Lady Qiao has never pursued a romantic relationship of any kind, within her marriage or outside of it." Zhou Yu's expression spun with uncertainty as he met the soldier's stare, gaze almost asking whether Chen Hao knew something he didn't. "But honestly, I can't be sure she'd have alerted me to her private affairs in this area – Lady Qiao has far greater restraint than her sister."

Chen Hao's shoulders slumped, perplexity coloring his thoughts again. In a way, it had been almost impossible to believe that the elder Lady Qiao would have become an adulteress, considering her words of disapproving caution to her sister when the younger Qiao began her own affair. But on the other hand, her children had to come from somewhere – and Chen Hao was fairly sure, after hours of the general's story had poured into him, that Sun Ce hadn't had a change of heart concerning his wife.

There was nothing to do but ask, as unusual a question though it was. The soldier cleared his throat again and glanced to the stars, watching their fading patterns as the night continued to slip forward, silently dragging morning ever closer on its heels. Zhou Yu's obsidian gaze seemed hard and calm in his periphery; it bothered the inherent timidity lodged between Chen Hao's ribs as he tried again.

"How many children does Elder Lady Qiao have, my lord?"

The general exhaled softly. "Two. A son and a daughter, though Sun Shao is only eight years younger than she. Her daughter Yingmei is about the same age as Xuan, which has made them better companions and far easier to deal with over the years." Chen Hao blinked, his mind spinning yet again with the nonsensical information he had received. How could the elder Lady Qiao have a child the same age as her sister's first son, when her pregnancy hadn't been mentioned at all in the preceding stories? And how could Sun Shao be so close in age to his mother – as close in age as Sun Quan and his elder brother?

His confusion only increased as Zhou Yu laughed softly, running pale fingers through his disheveled hair. "I suppose, to be fair, that Shao is truly Sun Ce's son – but Lady Qiao is the closest he ever came to a parent, so I've always considered him more in line with Yingmei. Sun Ce couldn't have raised a child even if he'd wanted to."

In Chen Hao's mind, this begged the question of how the Wu king had ended up with a son without wanting one – especially if he still wasn't involved with his wife. And wouldn't Sun Ce's son be only twelve years younger than the lord himself? Each strand of confusion settling uncomfortably in his stomach choked him until he couldn't figure out how to phrase his questions or which one to put first. His bafflement must have shown on his face, because a tiny smile dashed across Zhou Yu's lips and vanished into the shadows of early morning.

"Both of her children are adopted, Chen Hao."

Suddenly all of the contradictions riding unrelentingly through the situation settled into understanding, and the soldier felt his shoulders slumping as the anxious perplexity vanished from his veins. He couldn't be sure why adoption hadn't occurred to him immediately, and at the obvious answer he felt even more embarrassed than he had before – but there was little time to dwell on it, because Zhou Yu was speaking again.

"As I mentioned, Sun Yingmei is very close in age to Xuan. In fact, Xuan was only a few months old when Lady Qiao adopted her daughter – though if it hadn't been for Sun Ce's unfortunate luck, his wife might never have brought another child into the household at all." The general paused momentarily, his dark eyes deepening into fathomless pools of thought as he brushed tension from his temples. "I am not sure, in retrospect, whether Lady Qiao actually wanted children or not. It may be that she simply couldn't turn one away if it needed her help – and Yingmei was certainly in a desperate situation when we stumbled across her."

Chen Hao felt the urge to ask for details rushing though him like a coursing wind, but the air around them had grown heavy with anticipation, and he could see the inclination for another story riding on Zhou Yu's lips. With great effort, he managed to voice only the catalyst. "What do you mean… about Lord Sun Ce's bad luck?"

The general smiled. "I'm afraid chance was rarely kind to Sun Ce – he managed to find himself in all manner of seemingly impossible predicaments. In this case, he and I were walking through the city one day on an errand for Xiao Qiao – she was in need of a particular kind of cloth, though to what end I never could get a straight answer. We had barely passed the north rim of the city, and Sun Ce stopped in the middle of a small bridge to look at something under the water…" Zhou Yu shook his head mildly. "I had just walked over that bridge moments earlier, and it seemed stable enough at the time, but it broke right out from him and sent him into the river."

Chen Hao's heart leapt momentarily into his throat, but the unhurried expression suffusing the general's features calmed his rushing pulse somewhat. "Was he all right?"

Zhou Yu shrugged lightly, his shoulders brushing the worn floor like a receding tide. "He suffered a few bruises from the fall, and it certainly renewed his interest in bridge building… but the greatest consequence of the accident was a lingering illness, which stayed with him almost to the beginning of the Bitter Moon."

Illness. Chen Hao blinked as his mind flashed backward – back through the uncountable images the general's story had placed in his mind, back through the endless twisting scenarios – to the very first step Sun Ce and Zhou Yu had taken toward friendship: a ceasefire over a bowl of soup. The soldier felt a slight shiver sliding down his spine, but he couldn't be sure if it was the effect of the wind or the uncanny repetition. Hadn't Sun Ce caught that first cold – built that initial bridge between them – when he fell into a lake, chasing after a frog for his brother?

"On the afternoon when Lady Qiao adopted her daughter…" Chen Hao shook himself and refocused on the resumed length of the story as Zhou Yu trailed off, voice catching like a serrated stone against his tongue and threatening to spatter pain across his wispy expression. The general coughed quietly, shaking his head as though the movement itself might quell his agonizing throat.

For a moment, something seemed to quiver in his dark eyes – to hang in the balance of uncertainty, as though debating the worth of another effort to speak. Then it was gone, chased away by the resumed words slipping in soft amusement from Zhou Yu's thin lips.

"Sun Ce was never exactly easy to deal with – and this was far more the case when he was ill. In general, I'd like to think I had learned to handle it. That day, however… he was giving stubborn an entirely new meaning."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"No!"

It was one of those days.

The Sun lord's shout echoed like thunder through his quarters and down the adjacent corridors, filling every facet of the surrounding palace wing with unconditional rejection and scattering the slight snowflakes from their place against his windowsill. As his passionate voice continued to spill into the thin air of Niuqiao's winter-besieged fortress, each subsequent word rising in volume, one sturdy fist pounded the wood of the nearby table in a rhythmic refusal just short of deafening. "Not only no, but hell no! Not happening! Not a chance!"

Zhou Yu sighed in exasperation, patience slipping through his fingers as he straightened from the young officer's bedside and shoved errant strands of hair away from his face. Through tremendous effort, the dark swordsman managed to express his aggravation only by the slight tapping of one foot against the frigid ground, a steaming offering of soup lodged between his tiring hands. "Ce…"

Sun Ce stuck out his tongue, kicking both feet childishly beneath the burrow of his heaping blankets and ignoring the strategist's lecturing tone. "I said no and I meant no! I'm not taking that stuff! It makes me want to gag!" The Sun lord slumped back against the carved phoenix swirls of his headboard, fingers twining through the fabric of his warm sleeves and across the expansive silk cocooning him. "You can just forget about it, Yu – it's not gonna happen! There's absolutely nothing you can say to make me put that in my mouth."

In Zhou Yu's considerably exasperated opinion, the reigning lord of Wu had never looked so much like a petulant child. Ponytail muzzed beyond repair, arms crossed stiffly over his chest, the twin amber eyes glared up at him in what could only be described as a pout and regarded the prepared meal like a malicious adversary. Sun Ce shifted against his tremendous pile of hoarded pillows and shook his head viciously, one tan finger gesturing accusingly to the swordsman's proffered bowl of soup.

"You put my medicine in there – I know you did. I'm not gonna eat it! It tastes terrible and it's not helping anything!" Zhou Yu sighed again, rubbing a hand against his furrowed forehead to will away the unending headache.

"Ce, I put the medicine in your food so you wouldn't have to taste it. And it can't possibly be as awful as you keep claiming." From the bitter complaints of the bedridden Sun lord, one might have thought it was poison his loyal strategist was attempting to shove down his throat – but the swordsman had it on good authority that no matter how stubborn his companion remained, the herbal powder Lady Qiao had procured could only be good for him.

Sun Ce balked and made a retching sound, holding his neck with both hands for emphasis as his bright eyes glared back at their onyx opposites. "It is that bad! What do you know, anyway – you don't have to take any medicine, even though you went into the river with me. It's not fair!" Zhou Yu rolled his eyes, irritated frown deepening as the Sun lord staunchly refused to accept his lunch, both arms blocking his lap as though the bowl of soup might be inescapable once tricked into his hands.

"I went into the river after you, Ce. And it's perfectly fair that I don't take medicine, because I haven't caught a cold." His deep voice, riddled with idle frustration, bounced futilely against the covered window and seeped through the room in mimic to the gentle snow wending its way through the garden outside. Sun Ce made a face at him, apparently unmoved by this reasonable line of logic.

A string of memories flashed through his dark eyes like drying spirits as the young officer huffed, turning his head away from the offensive concoction and kicking his mattress peevishly. It had been one of those experiences the strategist would remember for the rest of his life – watching in frozen panic as the bridge suddenly snapped and Sun Ce's wildfire eyes disappeared into the fast-flowing contours of the expansive stream. The image of the young officer vanishing beneath white folds of water had shot Zhou Yu's heart straight into his throat, and even now the memory prompted a shiver of discomfort that had nothing to do with the freezing wind leaking through Sun Ce's window.

The swordsman couldn't remember moving, but almost instantly he'd found himself waist-deep in the churning river, pale hands sluicing through the surface in search of the shocked Sun lord. And in those first seconds, when his fingers found nothing but the frigid tendrils of flowing water, a heavy feeling of despair and terror had overwhelmed his stomach, almost making him stagger under its heady weight.

Sun Ce had come up spluttering only a few moments later, largely uninjured but solidly drenched, and a vicious chest cold had persisted ever since. Not that the young officer's antics were helping his healing process in the slightest, of course – Heaven forbid Sun Ce consider his best interests once in a while.

A firmly sulking expression had taken hold of the Sun lord's features, and Zhou Yu refocused on the Little Conqueror as he turned back toward his swordsman, his skin unnaturally pale with the unrelenting illness and the soft winter light.

"You not getting sick is the most unfair part of all. I'm not eating that junk, and that's final."

The strategist rolled his obsidian eyes skyward, idly studying the ceiling as though it might present a brilliant design for getting the soup inside his stubborn companion where it could do the most good. But Sun Ce's rafters remained silent, apparently uninterested in the welfare of their master, and Zhou Yu dropped his gaze back to eye level without inspiration.

"Shang Xiang will be angry if I bring this back," he tried mildly. Sun Ce stuck out his tongue and crinkled his nose.

"So she can be angry, then. If she wants me to eat it so badly, she can come here and shove it down my throat herself – because that's the only way I'm swallowing any of it!"

The strategist sighed softly, brushing the errant strands of dark hair away from his eyes. It was one thing for Sun Ce to ignore his sister's proffered soup, but it would be quite another to actually defy her wishes once she took the matter into her own hands. Shang Xiang had developed an iron control over her surroundings as she grew older, and in her ability to run a household she was matched only by her own mother. Sometimes the swordsman wondered what Sun Jian might have said if he could see the growing similarity between his daughter and his wife – and then he pushed the question away, because thoughts of Sun Jian were distracting and there was too much at hand to afford disruptions of that kind.

Twin onyx eyes stared down into the bowl of soup with reluctant scrutiny, watching the green flecks of medicine that swam uselessly through their cream background. The pretty twenty-year-old had spent all morning shoving the cooks out of their own kitchen in an attempt to please her brother's fickle taste buds, and Zhou Yu was not looking forward to bringing a full bowl back to her. Sun Ce didn't seem to notice his swordsman's distraction, however – his sulky rant continued through the thin air, tumbling over his bothered blankets in similar annoyance to the lines of his countenance.

"It's not fair. We finally get our first big snow, and I'm stuck in here with you all day!" Zhou Yu raised a noncommittal eyebrow and set the neglected bowl gently on a nearby dresser top, moving to rest on the edge of the Sun lord's bed and smoothing the coverlet beneath his pale hands. Sun Ce scowled at him and slung both arms behind his head. "I want to be outside playing – or even if we have to be inside, we could at least do something fun. But no, I have to sit here all day and do nothing until I rot!"

The strategist shrugged, skidding one boot mindlessly against the carpet as he met the young officer's glare. "You're sick, Ce. And if you'd taken your medicine like I asked you to, perhaps you would only have been sick for a few days instead of a whole week already." Sun Ce groaned, rolling his eyes toward the plain ceiling and shaking his head.

"I've told you, I don't do medicine. It doesn't help anyway! The fastest way for me to get better is to pretend I'm not sick at all." Zhou Yu snorted softly, and his companion lunged forward to grab one stiff hand. "No, I'm serious!" Sun Ce's amber gaze glowed with sincerity as he leaned up from the headrest, yanking encouragingly on his strategist's wrist. "Let's go play outside, Yu. I promise I'll get better in no time flat."

The strategist scoffed, dragging his fingers away from their insistent captors to brush the long ebony hair back over his shoulders. "Don't be ridiculous, Ce. If you go outside right now, you'll probably catch pneumonia." The Sun lord pounded one fist uselessly against his blankets and pouted, slumping back against the wood of his headboard with a thoroughly indignant look on his face.

"I will not. A little fun never hurt anybody. I'll bet it'd do me a world of good." Zhou Yu sighed, rubbing at the pulsing disturbance beneath his temples and giving the young officer a stern glare.

"Sun Ce. You went outside four days ago – without permission, I might add." Sun Ce grinned mildly and flashed a victory wink, causing the strategist to roll his eyes briefly at the memory of the Sun lord vanishing out his window. "And what happened? You were only out for fifteen minutes, but your fever intensified astronomically and you haven't been able to sleep comfortably ever since. Yesterday you couldn't even breathe, you were coughing so badly."

The young officer shrugged, a glint of hopefulness echoing in his eyes. "But look how much better I am already. I'm sure it would be fine for me to go out now – since I'm on my way to recovery and all."

Zhou Yu snorted and rose from the bed, pacing back across the room to stir the rejected soup with an idly irritated hand. "If you want to recover, Ce, get plenty of rest and stop acting like an imbecile. The sooner you get better, the sooner you can go outside – but until your fever goes away, I'm not letting you out of this room."

A momentary light of interest flashed in the lord of Wu's eyes. "Is that a challenge?" he asked, his amber eyes already darting to the fabric-softened window. Zhou Yu gave him a stern glare.

"No, it's a threat. Now sit still and behave, before I really do force this down your throat." Sun Ce huffed at the humorless answer, melting back into his pillows as though his limbs were made of jelly.

"You're no fun at all," the Sun lord snipped. His swordsman shrugged.

"Fun was not in my job description. If you'd like some entertainment, I can go get Lu Meng. I'm sure he'd be delighted to spend time with you." The young officer snorted, flopping his disheveled head to one side at the suggestion – out of his periphery, Zhou Yu watched his companion's exasperated features and the tangled sleeves of his sleeping robe where they fell like slate rain over his sheets.

"Oh, yeah – great. That's exactly what I need. I'm sure my recovery rate would just skyrocket if I had some time to absorb all that negative energy. Do you suppose he'd be willing to make a house call?" The strategist rolled his dark eyes and sighed, lifting the soup into his hands indecisively and considering it again. Was there really any value in renewing their struggle over the meager bowl of sustenance – Zhou Yu shot a stern glance in his companion's direction and settled back against the adjacent wall, gaze moving steadily over the Sun lord's paled features.

"If you'd prefer not to have company at all, I'd be happy to bring you a few of the tax reports I'm looking over right now. You certainly seem to have enough energy for that. I think Taishi Ci just sent his last statement in – would you like to review Qingshan's finances yourself this month?"

Sun Ce rolled his eyes and made a face, but any snappy comeback lurking behind his lips was cut off by the sudden sliding open of the door and Shang Xiang's face peeking past the wooden frame. The pretty young woman smiled at them both and stepped into her brother's quarters with the soft glow of the filtered winter light radiant on her skin, a book held absently in one slender hand. The young officer and his companion both blinked at her sudden entrance, and Sun Ce sat up a little straighter against his pillows.

"Hey, guys – how's the patient?" Her musical voice slipped through the room in teasing lines that drew a self-righteous scowl back onto her brother's countenance.

"Bored to tears, Shang. You've gotta help me – Yu won't let me out of here, but I'm dying for some fresh air!" The Little Conqueror looked hopefully up at his auburn-crested sister, gesturing vividly to the dampened window. "Let's take a walk. Or we could go shopping – anything you want."

Shang Xiang laughed, the tone of her amusement ringing through the still air like a temple bell. "You're willing to go shopping with me, huh? I guess you really must be getting desperate." The Sun princess shook her head gently and plopped onto the mattress at her brother's side, reaching out to poke him in the forehead with one mellow finger. "You know you'll just make things worse if you go out in this weather."

Zhou Yu felt a smirk flickering across his expression as Sun Ce stuck out his tongue and visibly slumped, burrowing reluctantly into his blankets and kicking both feet in an energetic rebuttal of the young woman's words. The Sun lord shot his swordsman an unhappy look before turning his full attention to his sister, amber eyes bright with distaste.

"Why doesn't anybody agree with me? I swear I'd get better right away if I could just do something interesting for a few hours. You can quote me!" His glance darted back to his strategist momentarily to measure the effect of his encouragement. "Let's put it in writing. And if I get worse, you can show it to me next time I get sick and I won't try to get out at all. How's that?"

Zhou Yu raised an eyebrow but said nothing, and Shang Xiang only laughed lithely and ruffled her brother's already scruffy ponytail. "Just go back to sleep, Ce. You know, the more you rest, the sooner you'll get better – and then you can go outside without having to fight us over it." Sun Ce groaned, flopping back against his headboard and glaring severely at his well-meaning sister.

"I've been sleeping for a week! If I try to sleep any more, I'm just going to explode!" Shang Xiang tsked and patted his head, drawing an idle swat from one tan hand as she ruffled through the pages of her book.

"Well, I'll read to you then. This is a very interesting book—"

"I don't want to be read to!" The young woman stopped at her brother's emphatic interruption and looked up, watching his irritated features as Sun Ce slammed one palm against his mattress. "I don't want to read, and I don't want to look at stupid tax reports, and I especially don't want to go back to sleep! I just want to go outside and play in the snow!" Shang Xiang hesitated momentarily at the passionately irate expression on his face, but Zhou Yu met the Sun lord's gaze evenly and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Ce. We can't let you do that. Be quiet and let Shang Xiang read to you." Sun Ce stuck out his tongue and matched his strategist's glare.

"I hate you! Why don't you just go away, if you're going to ruin all of my fun!" Zhou Yu rolled his eyes, deigning not to comment on the childish retort – but his words brought a sudden start to Shang Xiang's face, and she glanced at the dark swordsman over one sheepish shoulder.

"Oh… I almost forgot. Da Qiao asked if you could accompany her into town – she's got something to pick up for her sister, I think. I was supposed to come watch Ce so you could leave…" The strategist blinked a moment as her words registered, then pushed away from the wall and studied the Sun princess's face.

"Do you know where I could find Lady Qiao?" Sun Ce rolled his eyes, kicking his feet mildly under the endless blankets.

"She's just Da, Yu. Why do you call her Lady Qiao all the time? It's annoying." Zhou Yu ignored him, waiting in silence as Shang Xiang scratched her chin thoughtfully.

"I think she was going to be painting in the parlor this morning. You could check there, I guess. I'll watch this hellion while you're out." The Sun lord squawked as his sister smacked his shoulder in indication, and he crossed both arms over his chest as Zhou Yu nodded and turned for the door.

"It's not fair!" A distinctly unsatisfied expression suffused the young officer's restless features as he pointed accusingly toward his departing strategist. "Yu doesn't even want to go outside – he hates the snow! Why can't I go into town with Da? I'm her husband anyway."

Shang Xiang's musical laugh followed Zhou Yu into the darkened corridor, echoing against the cool walls like an incantation. The swordsman paused a few steps down the hallway and listened to the tail of her fading amusement, a reminiscent light flickering in his eyes.

"I think that's the first time you've ever really tried to pass yourself off as Da Qiao's husband, Ce. Now sit still – I made this soup for you, and you're going to eat it."

"No way in hell! Get that stuff away from me!"

Jiang Dong. Shucheng. It had been a long time since Shang Xiang laughed so openly like that. A lot of things had come between the young woman and her carefree childhood – her father's unexpected death not least of all. But Sun Ce had always been able to draw people out of their knitted shells; in their childish bickering, which faded into lines of half-remembered memory as the swordsman slowly resumed his trek down the hallway, Shang Xiang was pulled back through the years to a time when innocent laughter never left her lips.

"Come on, Ce – don't be such a baby."

In his mind, he could almost hear the words in the softer, higher voice of a teasing child – he could almost see the two Sun children, considerably younger, dashing through the hallways of his family home in a tumbling chase game. Shang Xiang with her bobbing auburn locks, Sun Ce's messy rattail skittering over his shoulders in abandon as they skirted the kitchen, ignoring lecturing shouts from servants and parents alike… their vanished shadows washed over his feet as the strategist's footsteps drew him farther from the young officer's quarters and drowned out the juvenile argument proceeding unhindered behind him.

Zhou Yu's gaze flitted across the torchlit walls and silken tapestries as he walked, the twisting shadows of winter's meager light making the patterned rug seem to dance underfoot. Shang Xiang had grown into a beautiful and strong young woman – in sword as well as spirit. But there was no denying that she had lost something along the road to her future; it was inevitable, he knew. Innocence never lasted long in a time of warfare.

The swordsman paused momentarily as he reached the open door of the parlor, studying the winter light across its doorway that indicated the heavy curtains had been drawn back from their stern windows. It was possible that Lady Qiao was still painting, as Shang Xiang had indicated, but she could also have gotten nearly anywhere within the palace in the time it took him to seek her. Zhou Yu listened for a moment to the endless silence streaming around him, then stepped forward into the doorway and glanced toward the windows.

True to the Sun princess's prediction, there was Lady Qiao, bustling back and forth across the warm rug opposite the fireplace with a half-completed canvas erected in one corner of the sparsely furnished room. A fur-lined cloak was draped over her arm, and she moved artfully around the beautifully carved furniture without making a sound. Zhou Yu cleared his throat gently, and her sepia eyes shot to the swordsman waiting in the doorway.

"Lady Qiao—"

"Shh!" Zhou Yu blinked and held his tongue as one pale finger jumped to the young woman's lips, gesturing for silence. Sun Ce's wife beckoned him forward, pointing to something behind the long sitting stage covered in saffron cushions – something he couldn't see from the doorway where he'd hesitated. The strategist took a few steps forward and paused at the corner of the small side table, one hand idly massaging the silk of his sleeve. And then he almost had to smile, because it instantly became clear why Lady Qiao had motioned him silent.

It was one of those moments where Zhou Yu couldn't be sure how all of the necessary pieces had slipped into place and left the world in such a position – but regardless of the circumstances, there was something touching about the image left behind. Lu Meng was asleep on the floor, resting on his back with one arm serving as a pillow beneath his gruff ponytail – and side by side on his broad chest, Xiao Qiao and tiny Xuan slept peacefully with their fingers wrapped into his thick shirt. The sour warrior's free arm had wrapped itself around the small female's waist, reinforcing the stability of her placement against him, and a small tangle of Xuan's budding hair spread like a raven wing across the moonlight contours of his mother's skin.

Zhou Yu stopped altogether and watched them as Lady Qiao moved to the nearby closet, drawing a spare blanket into her arms and draping it carefully over her sister's small body. The strategist studied his wife's peacefully dreaming face and the softened lines of Lu Meng's scrabbled jaw, and the way she fit so easily just along one side of the acerbic officer's chest. He had never noticed before how small Xiao Qiao was in comparison to her lover – Lu Meng could probably have lifted the young woman easily with one hand. Even if Xuan hadn't been undersized for his age of several months, there would have been ample room for both silent figures on Lu Meng's muscular form.

For the first time in a long time, Zhou Yu considered that perhaps Lu Meng was exactly what Xiao Qiao needed, despite his bad temper – and that she, likewise, was the only person who could bring any kind of light into the hardened young man's life without being mercilessly deflected. That perhaps there was a connection between them that made the child on Lu Meng's chest worth the trouble it would cause all its life, worth the complicated net of tangled relationships its very existence had created. Perhaps anyone who could get Lu Meng to sleep tranquilly on the tempered floor was worth whatever trouble they brought.

Xuan burbled quietly in his sleep as a thin line of drool slid down to his father's tunic, and Zhou Yu felt a light smirk sliding over his lips. Lady Qiao tucked the blanket carefully around her sister's delicate form and straightened slowly, sweeping the baby's bangs off of his silken forehead before her gaze found the swordsman's. In her deep eyes, the firelight reflected like sparking laughter, and for a moment Zhou Yu studied the young woman's contented features as the shadows danced between them and covered their sleeping comrades in folds of sleepy stillness.

Then Zhou Yu shifted, and Lady Qiao smiled, and the two moved simultaneously for the door, leaving their calmly captivating companions to rest in the winter-painted parlor. The strategist glanced over his shoulder once more as he slipped out the door, unable to see the sour warrior and his resting family any longer. Sun Ce's wife chuckled gently into the soft air of the corridor, her sepia gaze peering up into his onyx eyes with mild curiosity as the floor slid away beneath their heels.

"I'm afraid Lord Ce could never sleep that gently."

Zhou Yu scoffed under his breath at the memory of countless elbows in the stomach, hair in the mouth, and other hazards brought about through sleeping beside Sun Ce. The strategist shook his head as Lady Qiao slung the ample cloak over amused shoulders, her short braids bouncing against the fur-lined interior of her robes as the door to the entrance courtyard rose up before them, steady and grim like a reflection of the winter landscape outside. The echoes of their footfalls moved in unseen patterns all around them, chasing the swordsman's thoughts as an image of Sun Ce asleep filled his mind – one arm flung to the side, mouth half-open in a slight snore, ponytail disheveled beyond any hope of reconciliation.

Zhou Yu pushed the door open and held it for the Little Conqueror's wife, her boots crunching over the harshly packed snow on the steps outside as he answered. "Not a chance."

.x.

It wasn't that the cold weather was particularly remarkable for Niuqiao. The strategist himself hadn't spent a winter in the region nearest Yangzhou before, but he knew from charts and histories concerning the northern reaches of Wu that the nipping temperature swirling around him and dragging snow from its peaceful banks to litter the well-trodden streets was not unusual. And even from the few months they had already stayed in Niuqiao's great palace, the swordsman had grown accustomed to a chill that slipped straight through the flesh of anyone venturing outside – Sun Ce had returned to his quarters with blue lips on more occasions than the swordsman cared to count.

In that respect, it was only an average day as far as Niuqiao's weather was concerned. The snow scuttling over the frozen ground was a slight irregularity from the dry winter that had progressed around them in the preceding weeks, but it could only nudge and bristle uselessly at the strategist's feet and was hardly worth worrying about in its limited quantity. What made the afternoon unusually unpleasant, in Zhou Yu's considerably decided opinion, was the wind tearing along each side street like a herd of angry spirits, nearly knocking the citizens of Niuqiao over as they went about their frostbitten business.

Zhou Yu ducked his chin down to his chest and closed both obsidian eyes, letting the wind pour over his ears like a railing banshee. The fur lining of his winter robe trembled with the force of the roiling breeze that slid frigidly across the back of his neck, no doubt reddening the skin under his long hair. The swordsman sighed, leaning back against the bridge railing behind him and watching Lady Qiao conduct her inspection of the sparse vendors' wares some distance away. Sun Ce's wife was shivering tremendously under the force of the wind around them, despite her heavy cloak and the meager shelter of the buildings behind her that should have provided at least paltry comfort.

Zhou Yu glared mindlessly at his snow-covered feet as he forced his fingers to move, fighting the numb and painful joints freezing stiff under his inadequate fur gloves. It wasn't that he'd never dealt with miserable temperatures before. Sun Ce tried not to campaign in the dead of winter – because it was difficult to feed and lodge an army in weather like this, among other things – but that didn't mean they'd never encountered a rogue blizzard in early fall or the occasional summer squall that chilled every man in their company all the way through his leather and bamboo armor. It was just that the swirling clouds overhead and the drifting snow congregating around his feet seemed unusually unfortunate when he and his escorted companion had been scouring Niuqiao for the better part of an hour – without any success whatsoever.

"Lord Yu?"

Zhou Yu started at Lady Qiao's soft voice and looked up from studying his shoes, meeting the russet gaze that smiled idly at him across the expanse of thin air between his position and the bridge's head. The blank expression on her face told him everything he needed to know in one glance, and the swordsman pushed himself away from the railing with a silent sigh. The icy breath in his lungs chilled each of his ribs in turn, swirling like a tempest through his veins as careful steps took him across the frozen planks.

"May I assume you've had no luck again?"

Lady Qiao nodded, serious contemplation stealing across her features. The delicate brows drew together in consternation as the young woman shook her head, light braids dancing helplessly in the rough wind.

"I wasn't expecting to have so much difficulty locating ginseng. I apologize – I'm afraid I've dragged you all over the city by now." Lady Qiao smiled vaguely, her eyes skimming over the building clouds above them and the snowflakes resting like fallen stars in her companion's dark hair. Zhou Yu shook his head, dislodging most of the weak crystals with one small motion.

"Please don't worry about it. I have been dragged all over the city already, and not for nearly so important a cause." In truth, the strategist wasn't sure how important the ginseng could be – he had no idea what Lady Qiao needed the herb root for, unless her sister had perhaps fallen ill as well. But anything had to be more vital than Sun Ce's reason for exploring several weeks prior, when he'd been interested in a snack and toured each market street in turn looking for the proper vendor.

Lady Qiao chuckled, resuming her trek through the snow and pulling the cloak tighter around her thin shoulders as Zhou Yu reached the edge of the bridge, directing them silently into the bustling causeway. A team of oxen dragging an expansive cart of bamboo baskets and pottery passed them slowly, all eight heavy hooves lugging through the snow and mud that littered the well-worn street. The strategist watched their sagging progress idly as he moved down the road, ducking between the weaves of clustering citizens and listening to their echoing footsteps with one mindless ear.

"…Winter has been cruel to these people."

Zhou Yu started, turning from his scrutiny of the oxcart to stare down at the insightful young woman at his side as her soft, gentle voice caught his attention. Lady Qiao's gaze had gone sad and deep, as though the suffering of Niuqiao's citizens was truly reflected in the twin russet eyes. Her fleeting glance stole from one hunched figure to another as the river of traffic flurried like a stream of endless snowflakes on each side, and the swordsman watched her shifting expression in silence for a moment before increasing their pace and letting his interest wander among the wraiths of the street as well.

In a way, she was right. Winter had come quickly to the tumultuous geography of northern Wu, and the frost had struck early enough to damage a fair amount of the crops counted on to support Yangzhou's population. According to the reports that had been piling unrepentantly across his desk – and, admittedly, which he had primarily neglected after Sun Ce became ill – Yangzhou and the surrounding regions had achieved a grain count sufficient to feed their populations through the winter. Sufficient – but sufficient wasn't plentiful or even comfortable, and prices had been rising in Niuqiao on nearly every commodity available ever since the last harvests were reaped and the people of northern Wu took stock of their meager provisions.

But the weather wasn't the only thing bearing down on the peasants filtering quietly around Zhou Yu and his companion – the war had done its part for famine and chaos as well. True, there was no fighting around Niuqiao just now – but Wu was far from stable, even with Sun Ce as its acknowledged ruler, and warlords like Liu Xun threatened to upset the precarious life of the lower class with their unpredictable, destructive campaigns for power. The Sun lord had done his best not to increase the burden of his people, either through taxes or through forced labor – but it was impossible to feed and keep an army without revenue of some kind, and Sun Ce had been forced to compromise with his realist strategist when it came to their economic policies.

And just at present, things were worse for the inhabitants of Wu than they'd been even a year earlier – Xuancheng was struggling to rebuild and return to its grand stability as a central trading city, and the southern border of Wu had to be constantly patrolled against Liu Xun's violent incursions. Zhou Yu sighed under his breath and let the cold wind cut into his mouth like jagged icicles, crunching the frosted air between his teeth in dissatisfied thought. Perhaps Sun Ce hadn't realized in his childhood just how complicated it was to rule a country – but to the young officer's credit, he had never complained about the burden of leadership that weighed even more heavily on his shoulders than on the mind of his dark swordsman.

"Shall we try one more vendor?"

Zhou Yu nodded absently, not bothering to meet Lady Qiao's polite eyes as he focused on crossing the slippery street to reach her next destination; his mind tumble with the problems of internal affairs, of which the Sun lord's wife's single observation had inescapably reminded him. Lady Qiao moved forward purposefully and broke pace with her preoccupied escort, meeting the nearest merchant's eyes with a kind if distant smile. The man stood up straighter behind his stall and gestured encouragingly to his sparse wares as though he were offering an unmatchable scope of goods instead of a handful of overpriced scraps.

"Good afternoon, my lady. What can I find to interest you? A string of lovely pearls, or perhaps this shawl…"

Zhou Yu turned away from the enterprising man and glanced back the way they had come, letting the diatribe of sales banter slide around him like slithers of water mimicking the motion of the rushing citizens on all sides. His gaze fell on the palace, now a good distance away – snow-crested, silent and stoic. From the depths of the city, glimpses of its majesty barely visible through the jagged divisions that served for side streets, it looked impossibly far away – as though one could walk forever through the frozen landscape and never reach that immense structure. Zhou Yu pulled his jacket a little tighter against the hissing tumult of winter as his eyes moved along the eaves of the great palace, embodiment of Sun Ce's successful conquest of Wu.

Normally, the opinions of the citizenry weren't something the strategist concerned himself with – not enough that it bothered him, anyway. The people of Wu weren't rising in revolt against the Sun lord's government, and they had been downright courteous during the young lord's survey journey the previous summer. As a populace, they could hardly be improved upon – they did what they could to support their young leader in the small venues open to them, and the army was rarely lacking for new recruits. Still, Zhou Yu couldn't help wondering now, as he gazed at the palace so far away, whether the people of Wu actually cared who ruled over them, so long as the new monarch was benevolent. What did it matter to the merchants and customers crowding this street whether their taxes went to Sun Ce or Liu Yao?

In his conquest of Wu, the impulsive officer had been completely successful – and in his directing of the region's affairs, few could criticize his policy. Sun Ce did his best to think of his subjects first, even arguing with his swordsman when he felt the interest of the peasantry under his control was being sacrificed for a larger cause. But did the intentions of the lord of Wu really have any meaning to the individuals just trying to live from day to day in Niuqiao's frozen, slowly starving streets? A line of young children tumbled past Zhou Yu in a haphazard game, their poor shoes skidding on the icy alleyway, and the strategist stared after them thoughtfully. From the perspective of the lower classes, Sun Ce had to seem nearly as untouchable as his palace – were the children in Yangzhou and the rest of Wu even being taught the name of their sovereign? Or would the Sun lord's conquest be remembered as simply one more patch in the wartorn history of the region?

Zhou Yu sighed, dispelling the headache behind his temples with his frigid fingers. History's memory would depend, he supposed, on how far Sun Ce could go – whether he would be able to continue along the path to his ultimate dream. Whether he could actually conquer all of China.

"Lord Ce would remind you not to think too hard."

Zhou Yu started, glancing up from his introspection to meet the dark, warm eyes of the Sun lord's wife, a small bag clutched between her fur-lined sleeves. Lady Qiao smiled gently at him and tilted her head to one side, glance sweeping across his inattentive expression. The young woman raised a delicate eyebrow in slight amusement.

"I don't know what occupies your thoughts, Lord Yu – but Lord Ce would certainly remind you that you only give yourself a headache, and that negativity will not get you very far." The strategist blinked, staring at the woman before him in surprise before his features slowly relaxed, fading into a vague smile. The swordsman scoffed under his breath.

"He would tell me that. But Ce can only be so flippant about it because he doesn't have to think very often." Lady Qiao chuckled softly, clicking her tongue in mock condemnation.

"And that comment would certainly get you into another argument. I'm afraid the two of you are rather good at escalating conflict." Zhou Yu exhaled silently, glancing after the rushing bundle of ragtag children as they disappeared down a side street and vanished. He scuffed one leather boot meditatively against the frozen ground and found Lady Qiao's waiting gaze again, nodding into the winter air with mild resignation.

"It's always been that way. I don't think that habit can be broken, at this point." The young woman chuckled again, turning back toward the palace and beginning to move quickly through the soft voice of the wind.

"I don't think it's a habit you would break even if you could, Lord Yu." Zhou Yu blinked after his companion and watched her walk away in frozen puzzlement for a moment, wondering about the line of amusement lurking behind her words. Then the strategist shook himself and moved after her, catching up to Sun Ce's wife with long strides and slowing to her pace as they drew even. The dark swordsman glanced at her quiet features out of the corner of his eye, her words still echoing inside his head – Lady Qiao's lips were quirked upward in the barest hint of a smile, but other than that her countenance stood blank like the snowdrifts around them, completely devoid of any hint of the deeper meaning that had riddled her tone.

Zhou Yu felt his brow drawing into deep furrows as he looked back along the street, considering the intelligent young woman's words while the two of them moved easily through the ever-changing folds of the causeway's crowd – and then he let it go, deciding that she was probably right even if he couldn't quite conclude why. There had always been something about the natural tension, the basic friction between himself and Sun Ce that added to their interactions in a manner he couldn't classify. The strategist shook himself and refocused on the path ahead, willing the Sun lord out of his thoughts for the time being.

The cloth pouch in Lady Qiao's delicate hands shifted and crinkled softly as she brushed a strand of wind-blown hair from her eyes, and Zhou Yu glanced at the small purchase with mild curiosity that brought words to his tongue. "Did you find what you were looking for?" The young woman blinked, then shook her head and smiled up at her escort with halting, preoccupied eyes.

"No… ginseng is in terribly short supply at present, but this ought to do just as well." Sun Ce's wife pressed her pretty lips into a crimson streak that showed all the more plainly against the unnaturally rosy contours of her chilled face. "Poor Xuan… I am unsure of the cause, but he's been unable to eat well these last few days. He may have a stomachache – but cinnamon should be almost as helpful as ginseng, so I believe this will be fine."

Zhou Yu felt a flicker of instinctual panic at the mention of the infant Xuan's illness, and the feeling swarmed his stomach like a flurry of wasps before he could push it back. It's not my responsibility – not my concern in any way… but somehow the reminder fell flat as he thought of Xiao Qiao's child and the burden it had brought to everyone in the household. The swordsman cleared his throat lightly, thinking back to the scene in the parlor as deep furrows of immoderate anxiety marred his forehead.

"He seemed fine earlier this afternoon." Lady Qiao smiled, a full smile this time that brought unprecedented light to her paled features.

"It's funny you should mention that, Lord Yu – actually, Master Meng only agreed to let Xuan sleep on his chest because the boy was fussing so badly. My sister was trying to paint with me, but Master Meng couldn't get the child to stop crying…" The young woman shook her head, chuckling as the spark of recent memory floated in her deep eyes. "I don't recall how Xiao convinced him that listening to his heartbeat would calm Xuan down, and I became involved in my painting and lost track of time – but when I next looked over, they were all asleep on the floor."

Zhou Yu watched the Sun lord's wife quietly, studying the amusement sifting so clearly over her countenance. The strategist glanced forward again, taking in the road ahead of them and the general weave of the active citizens as Lu Meng's peacefully harsh expression flitted across his mind. The warrior had always done his utmost to be unpleasant, and at that he was nearly unrivaled – sometimes Wu's dark swordsman had idly wondered whether Lu Meng found some kind of comfort in the negative attitude shooting like embers from his quick tongue. But perhaps his infant son touched a part of Lu Meng that had lain dormant for too long, nearly dead from neglect; there had to be at least one soft spot in the acerbic officer's heart, if Xuan had found a place to rest his head on his father's gruff chest.

Lady Qiao laughed quietly to herself, twisting one braid absently between her calm fingers and stepping over a collected drift of snow as the bridge appeared some distance ahead of them. Zhou Yu glanced at his gentle companion as her contemplative voice spilled into the thin air, ducking beneath the cold wind to reach his ears. "It's interesting… my sister and Master Meng have a very different relationship from you and Lord Ce."

The strategist started, a feeling of familiar panic slicing down his spine as they brushed close to another knot of busy costumers squabbling over a meager stall. But none of Niuqiao's citizens seemed to have heard her, or at least none cared enough to look up from their business – Zhou Yu forced his shoulders to relax slightly, though he found himself wishing for the inestimable time that his various comrades had a little more discretion as the young woman's voice poured into the crowded street again.

"Perhaps the most interesting part is that my idea of love is very different from either of yours. I suppose there are an infinite number of ways to love someone, and an infinite number of ways to show that love…" Lady Qiao smiled softly, winding her fingers into a complicated weave around her packet of cinnamon powder. Zhou Yu watched her face carefully, searching for an indication of emotion or longing one way or the other – but he could see nothing beyond idle musing coloring her beautiful features, and her tongue seemed to have fallen silent after its string of observations. Finally there was little to do but ask, despite the part of his mind demanding that this conversation cease immediately before it could cause trouble of any kind.

"Lady Qiao…" Sun Ce's wife looked up at him patiently, sepia eyes deep with thought. The strategist brushed a strand of wind-tattered hair from his shoulder and glanced away from the young woman's expectant features, watching the oxcart he'd noticed before as it made its slow progress over the city's main bridge. A long moment of silence reigned around them before he felt soft fingers on his sleeve, encouraging an end to the unfinished question. Zhou Yu shook his head. "Do you regret being alone?"

Out of his periphery, the swordsman could see Lady Qiao blinking mildly. "Being alone? I'm not sure I understand what you mean, Lord Yu." The swordsman sighed quietly, gaze locked on the cart's wheels as they turned slow circles over the frozen planks holding the bridge in place.

"Do you regret not having someone like Lu Meng…" Lady Qiao tapped her chin in consideration.

"Do you regret having someone like that?" Zhou Yu blinked and turned back to his companion at the unexpected echo, his feet stalling over the frigid ground. The young woman's eyes were bright with curiosity and anticipation, awaiting his answer as the surprise slowly faded from his pale features. One hand came up to replace errant strands of hair behind his ear as the swordsman's glance flashed across her face, almost searching for a trick or a flicker of amusement in the sincere smile. But he found nothing – nothing at all unusual in the sepia gaze, as though she'd inquired about the weather instead. Zhou Yu pressed his lips into a grim line.

"…No."

Of course not. But she already knew that. Lady Qiao smiled. "Then you and I are both content with our present situation." Sun Ce's wife moved forward gracefully, almost leaving her escort behind in the middle of the crowded street before quick strides brought him back to her elbow. Zhou Yu's eyes flashed rapidly across the stunning contours of the young woman's face as he caught her sleeve, stopping them just shy of the bridge and halting her light steps immediately.

He didn't want to continue this conversation. The swordsman had never enjoyed discussing relationships openly in this way – especially not his, and especially not in a place like this where anyone might overhear. As it was, they were already drawing more attention to themselves with their fine clothing than was probably advisable, and it wouldn't be hard for a passerby to connect their diatribe to the city's rulers. But her answer demanded clarification, and the topic threatened to slip away given the chance. Zhou Yu shifted from one foot to the other, lowering his voice almost to a whisper.

"…Content?"

A tiny flitting smile slipped across the lips of Wu's famed beauty as she glanced up at him, sepia eyes suddenly filled with eighteen years of memories he couldn't decipher. Sun Ce's wife nodded easily.

"True love takes its time, Lord Yu. I'm not in a hurry."

Something about the response was so quietly exasperating that it drove a sea storm of questions into the strategist's mouth. Zhou Yu wanted to ask what she would do if she never found it – if she even needed the affection her sister had sought in the arms of an unlikely officer. He wanted to ask what it felt like to watch Xiao Qiao and Lu Meng sleeping on the parlor floor with their child cuddled between them, and to watch himself and Sun Ce arguing back and forth over whatever issue stood between them. He wanted to ask what the night felt like when there wasn't another figure beside you, because it had been so long that he'd almost forgotten how sleep had ever found him without Sun Ce an arm's length away—

"Hey! Watch out!"

A sudden crash and commotion on the bridge ahead stopped every question on the tip of his tongue, shoving the inclination for speech back into his throat as his gaze shot forward and Lady Qiao jumped, her sleeve jerking out of his grip as both hands rushed to cover her mouth in surprise. Zhou Yu felt his eyes widening at the utter chaos that had descended instantaneously on the path in front of them, blocking the route of traffic in both directions and drawing an abundance of angry and startled cries from market surveyors on each side.

Perhaps there had been an uneven plank somewhere in the middle of the bridge, or perhaps a rogue patch of ice had tripped the animals' footing – but one way or another, the oxcart he'd been watching only moments before had overturned right in the center of the lane of travel, blocking the bridge almost completely and leaving a variety of bamboo baskets scattered all across the frigid structure's surface. The distressed basket maker was skittering across the snowy ground to collect his dented wares, snapping at the irritated crowds gathering on each side of his cart and yelling simultaneously at the team of dull oxen halted directly in his way.

Zhou Yu blinked at the mess and then glanced down at his companion, whose deep eyes were alight with surprise and anxiety. He found himself speaking almost without intention, baritone voice sifting through the murmurs of displeasure all around them as he turned to face her fully. "Perhaps we should return by a different route?" Sun Ce's wife hesitated momentarily, looking uncertainly between the bedlam ahead and her escort.

"Should we offer to assist him?" The strategist shook his head a little, glancing over one shoulder at the enraged basket maker as he struggled to right his overturned cart. People on both sides of the disaster were already rushing forward to help lift the large structure onto its wheels, though most just looked eager to get on with their travels and were ignoring the baskets crunching helplessly beneath their feet.

"I'm afraid there's little we could do."

Lady Qiao nodded silently, and the swordsman moved left through the building tangle of infuriated citizens, following the vague memory of another road of travel slightly south. Zhou Yu shook his head as he ducked into a nearby side street, the Sun lord's wife following a pace behind while his soft footsteps filled the small street with their echoes. It was a bad week for Niuqiao's bridges.

The chaos in the background faded and dispersed as the strategist led his companion down a short set of worn steps, glancing absently at the icy river on one side and a row of poor doorways on the other, each cottage shut tightly against the fury of the winter wind. The long slats of wood and thatch serving as roofing seemed to shudder with every quiet step they took, and Zhou Yu had the distinct impression that the slightest motion might send the entire line of hovels toppling over.

The swordsman shook his head as they passed through a cobblestone courtyard between the next patch of houses, his eyes skimming the crudely frayed corners of each hovel where twigs and loose logs jutted out at all angles, threatening to catch passerby with their rough edges. Niuqiao was not a rich city, despite being Sun Ce's base in this corner of the empire – northern Wu did not flourish from the river trade that had made Xuancheng such a logical post of operations, and only meager roads moved goods and travelers away from Yangzhou. Perhaps the stability of the unification of Wu had improved life for the inhabitants of the cottages on every side of him – but it would take a long time before the effects of that improvement became readily apparent.

"Are you certain this is the correct direction, Lord Yu?" Zhou Yu started a little, shaken from his contemplation by his companion's unexpected question. The strategist glanced back absently to meet Lady Qiao's concerned eyes before returning his attention to the path ahead, nodding smoothly as recognition flitted across his features.

"When Sun Ce and I first entered Niuqiao two years ago, we were coming from the south – we traveled this way to reach the palace."

Which had been hell with a broad company of cavalry and foot soldiers – but Sun Ce was insistent whenever he had an opinion, and the young officer had led them correctly, if not conveniently, to the lacquered gates of the palace before night fell. In a broader sense, the detour had been worth its time-consuming trouble, because it had given the Sun lord a chance to encounter a fair array of his new citizens – and very few people could stand face to face with Sun Ce and not be instantly drawn to his charismatic, beaming grin.

Thoughts of his restless commander drew Zhou Yu's mind back to the conversation they'd been holding prior to their necessary change of route, and he slowed slightly to walk abreast with Lady Qiao as the avenue widened around them. The young woman glanced curiously up at him, seeming to sense a question lurking behind his lips even as she drew her cloak tighter around her shoulders and blew warm air across her frozen gloves. Zhou Yu exhaled silently.

"Lady Qiao… do you regret your marriage?"

The Sun lord's wife blinked up at him in utter astonishment for a moment – then a jeweled, pleasant laugh fell from her mouth to echo against the stone street, bouncing radiantly over the cobbled ground as she moved smoothly forward. Lady Qiao shook her head wistfully, one delicate eyebrow raised in puzzled amusement.

"You ask such odd questions, Lord Yu." The graceful woman's gaze settled thoughtfully on the contours of the cloudy sky above them, studying the windswept gray in its peaks and folds. "Lord Ce is a fascinating man. I have nothing at all to regret about my marriage to him."

Zhou Yu pressed his lips into a thin line, feeling her butterfly fingers light on his sleeve as the path became icy and she refocused her balance. Twin onyx eyes also moved to the heavens, following the rollicking lines of light and shadow that looked ready to release another storm at any moment. The swordsman watched idly for falling flakes as he brushed dark bangs back from his forehead, clearing his vision to the bitter afternoon wind.

"If you had married someone else – or if I…"

It was always so ironic, when he stopped to think about it – that two of the most beautiful women of the time should be married to men who couldn't love them. In the household of nearly anyone else, both sisters would likely have been revered above all competition – showered with such quantity of affection that they could hardly pass a single moment alone. It was only the tangled web of relationships coloring the Sun family's followers that placed Lady Qiao in solitude despite her marriage – a solitude she didn't deserve.

A bright, musical laugh cut through the strategist's thoughts, stifling the chain of reason behind the dark eyes that blinked in confusion, turning back to the Sun lord's wife as one hand flew to cover her pretty mouth. A stream of soft chuckles trickled between the young woman's fingers as she glanced up at her escort, a lithe smile melting over her lips.

"Lord Yu – don't be ridiculous," Lady Qiao advised, chasing both swinging braids away from her shoulders. "The relationship between Lord Ce and I is only mildly dependent upon the two of you." Zhou Yu blinked again, completely baffled by his companion's amusement.

"But if I hadn't been involved with—"

"It would hardly have mattered." Lady Qiao's assurance filled his mouth with silence, dispelling his counterargument before he could even finish the phrase. Sun Ce's wife shook her head firmly, a chiding light building in her eyes as they twinkled with laughter. "Lord Ce and I could never have fallen in love."

Zhou Yu was stunned by her declaration – so much so that he couldn't even summon a response. The swordsman slipped into silence, watching his companion as her steps slowed and contemplation brought them both to a halt in the middle of the frozen street. Lady Qiao chewed gently on her bottom lip, face quiet as though her resolute insight had surprised the young woman herself. Finally she shook her head, a light smile dancing across her admired features.

"Don't misunderstand – I mean no disrespect. I admire Lord Ce greatly for his ambition and his determination; and in every sense, he never fails to amaze and impress me. But…" Lady Qiao chuckled softly, brushing the wind away from her crimson-tinged cheeks. "But he and I could never find what we were looking for in each other."

The young woman's russet eyes shot up to meet the strategist's iron gaze as her shoulders relaxed, fur-lined cloak tickling her neck. "Lord Ce needs someone stronger than I am, and I…" The Sun lord's wife hesitated, beautiful eyes closing in contemplation as her voiced dropped to a near whisper.

"I want someone far gentler than he could ever be."

For a long moment, there was nothing to say – Zhou Yu stood still and silent under the force of the winter wind, his feet unmoving on the icy cobblestones. Twin obsidian eyes skimmed thoughtfully across Lady Qiao's preoccupied face, and he wondered to himself what kind of a person the young woman was looking for. Sun Ce had always been anything but soft, and the strategist wouldn't have traded his passion and rashness for any measure of calm gentleness, now matter how much trouble it caused – perhaps that was why Lady Qiao's words made so much sense, even though he couldn't relate to them in the slightest. And then he had to wonder, idly, what the Sun lord's wife meant by her husband needing someone stronger than she was – and whether Sun Ce would have agreed with her.

The moment shattered beneath a renewed flurry of snow – Zhou Yu blinked as a few ivory crystals landed on his face, tiny pinpricks of cold against the frozen expanse of his pale skin. Lady Qiao shook herself and smiled, sepia eyes reopening to meet her escort's veiled gaze with unconcealed warmth. A small laugh escaped the young woman's frost-painted lips as she gazed up into the broken sky, snowflakes perching on her lashes as though perfectly placed and interrupting the deep brown of her eyes. For just a moment, as the wind blew a sifting circle of snow around her long cloak, Zhou Yu thought he could see the shadow of a small child exploring a winter landscape for the first time – but then it was gone, and dignity flooded Lady Qiao's gaze once again to resume its familiar position.

Her contemplation irreparably scattered, Sun Ce's wife gestured vaguely to the road ahead of them, the soft snow blurring her features as it fell steadily faster all around them. "I apologize, Lord Yu – I'm afraid I delayed us. We should continue toward the palace before the weather becomes too severe." The swordsman nodded and urged his feet into motion, following the young woman's quick footsteps as they displaced the descending diamonds as gently as ghosts.

For a while, they traveled in silence, both content to carry their own thoughts as the city moved blearily around them. Zhou Yu stared through the building storm with empty eyes, half of his mind focused on avoiding the pitfalls of an ice-covered causeway and the other half still considering Lady Qiao's words. He tried to construct a rough image of the kind of person who might suit the Sun lord's wife, but he couldn't find a single member of their entourage who might be accurately described as a gentle person. Sun Quan was soft, but he had a temper and a selfish streak; Xiao Qiao was too colorful. And Sun Ce… Sun Ce was all bright smiles and refusal to bend and undying spirit. There was nothing mild about him at all.

Gentle. The word seemed to echo around him through the worsening storm, dodging snowflakes and riding on the restless fingers of the wind to resound in the strategist's ears. Gentle like Lady Qiao herself, but softer – lacking the steel interior that sometimes showed itself in the young woman's sepia eyes. Gentle like the snowflakes resting on her shoulders and his own dark hair, like the sound the clouds made as they rolled by overhead. Somehow, it seemed impossible that a person like that could survive in a time so ravaged by chaos and war. Perhaps that was why Lady Qiao hadn't found anyone to fulfill her paradigm yet – rebellion was not the ideal stage for unearthing true gentleness.

If not for the attentive young woman at his side, Zhou Yu would have walked right past the small courtyard without a second thought. The snow was coming down faster now, obscuring the walls and trees ahead and lumping the cottages together into unintelligible huddles that barely stood out from the vague presence of the road. The strategist had his head down, focusing on the ground just before him – and when the tiny sound came, he barely heard it at all, and shrugged it off just as easily. But Lady Qiao had always had quick ears, and she stopped dead in the center of the avenue, little piles of snow building on her shoulders as she glanced anxiously from side to side. Zhou Yu slowed a few steps farther down the road, glancing back at his hesitating companion through the thick of the storm.

"Lady Qiao?"

The Sun lord's wife spared him an anxious look, her eyes still flitting restlessly across each of the nearest cottages in turn. Her feet shifted in concern as the young woman turned a full circle, staring back the way they had come before meeting her escort's gaze again.

"Did you hear something?"

Zhou Yu shook his head, and Lady Qiao bit her lip in response, worry slinging through her eyes. The strategist turned back to face her completely, brow furrowed in concentration as his ears strained to locate any disruption to the silent storm around them.

"What was it?" Sun Ce's wife rubbed one hand along her frigid cheek, encouraging warmth to return to her reddened skin.

"I can't be sure. It almost reminded me of—"

This time they both heard it, and their eyes widened simultaneously in shared recognition that shot a cold spike of disquiet down the swordsman's spine. He knew that sound. It was the sound that had kept him up late some nights when his wife strolled the hallways, cooing and singing under her breath. It was the sound Lu Meng complained endlessly about – the sound that brought a grudging smile to the gruff warrior's features when he believed no one else to be looking.

Somewhere, a baby was crying.

Lady Qiao shared one more look with her escort, and then she ran for the nearest courtyard, disappearing behind the spirit wall and the snow-laden bushes before Zhou Yu could even blink. It took a moment for the strategist to regain control of his feet, and then he shot after her, one hand gripping the closest wall for balance as he nearly lost his footing on the icy cobblestones.

The courtyard's interior opened around Zhou Yu as he hesitated in the entrance, almost bumping into Lady Qiao where she'd stopped abruptly just inside the lip of the enclosure. The young woman's dark eyes were dashing in all directions, overflowing with anxiety as she cast her escort an urgent glance.

"Where is it coming from?"

Zhou Yu had no answer to the insistent question, and his gaze slid rapidly across the unbroken expanse of snow between them and the rammed earth walls. Lady Qiao stamped one foot in helpless impatience, and then the swordsman's eyes widened – there was a small, snow-covered lump resting at the base of the central well, and it was moving.

Five long strides brought the strategist within reach of a frost-christened basket, squirming and wailing with the displeasure of its tiny occupant. Lady Qiao was at his side in an instant, lifting the infant out of its icy cocoon and into her frigid arms to curl against her chest. Zhou Yu watched her motionlessly as she cooed and massaged blood back into the blue limbs peeking out of the child's weak cover, his dark eyes wide with the image of the screaming baby. Its gaunt face was unnaturally red and tight under the force of its bountiful but muted cries, and the swordsman felt his brow furrowing as anxiety began to pool in his stomach.

There was something about the sound that wasn't right – something different from the noises of discontent that filled Niuqiao's hallways whenever Xuan became unhappy. Something about the puffed cheeks and rollicking neck that sent a slice of panic winging through the strategist's flesh—

"Lady Qiao." Sun Ce's wife looked up at him, one hand still stroking the child's barely veiled body. Zhou Yu shook his head urgently, adrenaline shooting through his veins like a set of unrelenting sparks. "Something's wrong. It's – I think it's choking—"

Almost immediately the tiny form rocked and writhed in its savior's arms, the screaming cries becoming harsh and short as its thin neck snapped back and forth, fighting for air while its frozen face became ever more violet. Lady Qiao started, glancing once at the baby and then throwing it to her shoulder to pound powerfully on its tiny back with the heel of one hand. The child's bright eyes squeezed shut in a clear portrayal of pain and fear as it bounced sharply against the young woman's collarbone, snowflakes flinging heedlessly from its raven-crowned head.

"Spit it out," Lady Qiao demanded in a harsh whisper, her eyes steady but insistent as she struck the small back firmly. "Whatever it is that you've found – spit it out, little one."

Zhou Yu could only stand frozen as the infant's features became more and more crimson, the color shift chasing useless coughs from its tiny mouth – and then at last a small object shot from the child's lips to land noiselessly in the snow, disappearing from sight under the blanket of white flakes. A deep sucking breath passed through the baby's lips to fill its staggering lungs, and then the shattering cries returned – but more naturally this time, as it dug both hands into Lady Qiao's thick hair and buried its face in her cold neck.

A creasing smile slipped over the young woman's face, and her sepia eyes closed with a relaxing exhale as she cradled the child closer, holding it tight between her folded arms as though it might slip into the frigid wind at any moment and disappear. "Breathe," Sun Ce's wife murmured into the tiny ear, brushing her gloved fingers over the feathered scalp. "Just breathe."

Zhou Yu let out a deep breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, feeling his heartbeat gradually slowing as the adrenaline in his limbs ebbed away. The strategist took a few steps forward and knelt in the powdery snow, one hand searching absently for whatever the baby had been choking on. It only took a few moments to find the tiny circle, and he pulled it free of the storm's burden with a grim frown of fulfilled expectation marring his features.

The minute bronze disk rested easily between his fingers, deceptively light and beautiful against the background of his gloves. Zhou Yu felt his expression darkening as he examined the coin, brushing small flakes of snow from the hole at its center and tracing its hidden inscription with a discontent finger. The five chou piece sat dead and lifeless in his hand, a tiny spatter of blood collecting along the raised rim. The strategist sighed, wiping the crimson drops away as Lady Qiao's cooing comfort ricocheted through the thick air around him. Most likely the child had simply cut its mouth grinding the coin's rough edges against its tongue – the blood was hardly worth worrying over.

Zhou Yu regained his feet, clenching the bronze in his fist and wiping a few lingering snowflakes from his knees. Calm resignation slipped across his face as the swordsman tossed the hazardous coin thoughtlessly into the well behind him, turning back to study the infant's profile as it squalled and clung to Lady Qiao's neck. Twin onyx eyes skimmed the empty courtyard around them and the roofs of the silent cottages arrayed outside each wall. A coin in the mouth was the traditional practice for the deceased if no jade was available – and in a place like this, jade would hardly even be an untouchable dream.

Which meant, of course, that the child had been intentionally left to die. Lady Qiao's expression as she turned to face him told Zhou Yu she already knew that.

The strategist moved toward Sun Ce's wife, slinging his jacket from silken shoulders and draping it awkwardly over the baby's tiny form. The cold wind immediately stabbed through his thinner shirt like uncountable needles, clawing and tearing at his barely protected flesh, but Zhou Yu bit down on his tongue and dropped the cloth around the infant anyway, stepping back from Lady Qiao's soft smile to regard the wailing bundle from a safe distance. The young woman rocked her new burden silently back and forth, face poised and dignified even as the tiny girl pulled hard on one braid and screamed directly into her ear.

It had to be a girl, after all. No one left his son at the mercy of the elements in this manner, no matter how poor his family might be. Zhou Yu turned his head away from the wind, holding himself still and ignoring the shivers threatening to tear across his quickly freezing skin. A son was the hope for a better future – a daughter was only a liability. The Sun lord's wife tucked her escort's offered jacket tighter around the slowly quieting child, the silk of her colorful robes peeking out of the snow-laden cloak that hid her from the storm as her voice melted into an unnamed lullaby.

The infant began to whimper, digging its tiny fingers into the skin of Lady Qiao's throat. Zhou Yu studied its gaunt face with uncertain eyes. The child couldn't be much older than Xuan, if she was older at all – but it was hard to guess at her age when her face was so drawn, with sagging pits for cheeks and ragged hair where her soft baby strands should have been. Sun Ce's wife brought one of the miniscule bony hands to her lips and kissed it gently, her eyes flitting back to the stony strategist where he stood motionless a short distance away.

"We should continue on toward the palace." Her placid tone moved like a ripple throughout the courtyard, brushing softly over the child's head and soothing her mewling wails. Zhou Yu nodded slowly, mind preoccupied even as he matched the young woman's pace and moved to her side. The dark swordsman shot another glance at his companion before refocusing on the path ahead as the courtyard entrance led them into the full causeway, a mildly doubtful question building on his lips.

"…What are you going to do?"

Because while leaving the child behind was certainly not an option, the strategist couldn't see a clear alternative either. The Sun lord's wife must have disagreed, however, because her gaze flickered confusedly to her escort, deep eyes blinking as though the correct course of action should instantly have been obvious to one of his intellectual standing. Snow paused on her hunched shoulders as the young woman spared him a simple glance.

"I am going to raise her, Lord Yu."

Zhou Yu stopped dead in the middle of the street, his obsidian eyes widening at her unexpected declaration as he nearly choked on his frozen inhale. Instantly his feet congealed to the cobblestones, unable to budge even as the young woman moved past him a short distance before finally pausing. "What?" Raise the abandoned infant – as her own child?

His surprise must have shown on his face, standing out starkly on his pale features as his jaw dropped slightly and the cold wind robbed the breath from his lungs. Lady Qiao clutched the baby closer to her chest and pressed her mouth into a stern line, crimson cheeks halfway defiant against the ivory background of the storm.

"I'm sure you understood me. I am going to take this child back with me and raise it as my daughter. I don't see why that should present a problem."

Zhou Yu shook his head in disbelief, dark eyes echoing incredulity. "You can't be serious."

Lady Qiao raised one delicate eyebrow, her shoulders squaring as she visibly prepared for a confrontation. Cold fire was flashing in her eyes again – the same fire that had flickered when she and the strategist found themselves at odds over the wisdom of Xiao Qiao's pregnancy. The swordsman felt tension pulling him straighter, adding a solemn severity to his gaze as his hair fell softly around his wind-chilled countenance.

"This is not a decision you should make lightly, Lady Qiao." Sun Ce's wife chuckled humorlessly under her breath.

"I never realized you thought of me as reckless, Lord Yu." Steel had crept into her tone, and it pulled Zhou Yu's shoulders tighter as his glance melted into a stoic glare.

"I never have, before now." The strategist took a step forward until he was standing squarely before the young woman, meeting her eyes to make sure his opinion was received and considered. "But I know you realize how much responsibility comes with a child – I know you realize how considerable a decision this is. And yet you flippantly choose to take this child into your care."

Lady Qiao smiled a little, her sepia eyes rampant with confidant amusement. "Flippant is not truly the correct word, Lord Yu. I suppose my decision is circumstantial – but if I did not trust my ability to raise a child, I would never venture to adopt one."

Zhou Yu frowned heavily, rushing a few errant bangs out of his eyes as the tiny girl whimpered and the young woman clutched her closer. "It's not your ability I am questioning. It's the common sense behind adopting this infant you know nothing about. From all that we know, this child could be deathly ill, or otherwise unable to—"

The Sun lord's wife sighed, rocking the tiny girl absently in her arms and giving her escort a reassuring glance. "Calm down, Lord Yu." Zhou Yu wanted to tell her that composure was rarely his reaction to an argument, but he bit down on his tongue and held himself silent as Lady Qiao stroked the infant's hair back from its frigid forehead. "It may seem as though I chose this course of action without any consideration at all, but I assure you I have given the matter some thought."

The swordsman wanted to know when she'd had time to consider all the possible outcomes of adopting an abandoned child between the time she plucked the infant out of the snow and made her declaration, but Sun Ce's wife had started walking again, and he was forced to shove his irritated question back from the tip of his tongue and focus on catching up. As he drew level with the beautiful young woman, Lady Qiao glanced up at him and smiled lightly.

"You see, Xuan's birth made me contemplate the possibility of having my own children. Unlike many people – even many nobles in this territory – I have a stable lifestyle. Lord Ce has more than enough resources to support a child, and between Xiao and myself a baby wouldn't want for attention. In a way… I almost feel that it's my responsibility to raise a child. I have been given such an array of good fortune…"

The Sun lord's wife trailed off, her voice disappearing under the unending weave of the snow. Zhou Yu watched her clear face sharply, following the flicker of some indecipherable emotion across her porcelain features. Suddenly the strategist found himself wondering about Lady Qiao's childhood – whether she and her sister had been judged harshly in her father's household for being born women. Whether the dignified lady remembered how undervalued she had probably been, especially when the second child was also a girl. Whether her mother was treated badly or even sent home for her failure to produce an heir…

"Do you want children, Lady Qiao?"

Sun Ce's wife paused in her flitting steps, glancing up into the onyx eyes that regarded her seriously from a significantly superior height. For a moment a sliver of light seemed to dash across her countenance – obscured like the sun high above them, lost somewhere between the endless folds of the clouds and their littering snowstorm. Then the young woman smiled, resuming her steady pace and moving away from him through the building blizzard.

"I want this one."

There was truly nothing Zhou Yu could say to that. The strategist pressed his lips into a grim line and followed her unruffled footsteps, his gaze locked on the cooing infant – her daughter – as the tiny child writhed against the cold and burrowed deeply into his jacket. Dark eyes watched the curving smile on the baby's toothless face as Lady Qiao chuckled, the sound moving like a ripple through the snow tumbling all around them.

"Besides, Lord Yu – I'm afraid no one else has the patience to raise Yingmei the way I want her cared for."

Zhou Yu only had a moment to blink at the child's name before he found himself speaking, a foreseen question on his tongue. "And how is that?" Lady Qiao glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled, a soft smile that swirled like the shadows of beauty across her snow-crested face.

"Gently."

The strategist stopped, his feet stalling on the frozen cobblestones at her musical response. Then he shook his head and followed the Sun lord's wife ever closer to the palace, watching the infant's peaceful face and reminding Yingmei – silently – that every star in the sky must have wished her luck for such a lowly child to encounter such fortune.

.x.

By the time they reached the gates to Niuqiao's great fortress, the streets were nearly impassable, drowning in snow so thick that ox carts stalled on each side of the road as their drivers struggled to plow a path through the torrential storm. Zhou Yu pushed the palace's door open and held it for his companion, suppressing a shiver as the warm air of the entrance hall met his frigid skin and careened like a hurricane through each chilled nerve. Sun Ce's wife smiled at him a last time and moved down the hallway to her quarters without a word, leaving her escort to brush snow from his limbs and shake the crystal flakes from his long dark hair. Zhou Yu watched her go in silence before turning in the direction of the central wing, the fickle shadows of torchlight flickering over his stoic features as the floor slid away beneath his frozen heels.

Slowly the warmth of the enclosed corridor seeped through the strategist's unfeeling flesh, chasing the last remnants of the winter wind away and releasing the stiffness that had built up in the joints of his fingers. Zhou Yu studied the wood paneling of the palace hall absently as he walked, unhurried steps a match to the contemplation dominating his features. The brilliant light of the storm pooled beneath each covered window and chased his feet like a confused shadow, following docilely in the wake of his snow-encrusted footsteps.

The swordsman sighed softly to himself, rubbing at the headache building beneath each temple. Perhaps Lady Qiao did have the resources and the skill to raise a child on her own – but no child touched only those surrounding its cradle, and it could only be a matter of time until Yingmei became as much trouble as Xuan would surely grow into. Zhou Yu wondered idly what his wife would think when her sister appeared with a child of her own – and what Sun Ce would say to the news that he suddenly had an official heir.

Hello, Sun Ce. Are you feeling any better? The storm has broken; the weather outside is miserable. Oh, and by the way – your wife adopted an abandoned child on the way home. Zhou Yu shook his head at the sarcastic script running through his mind. Somehow, that didn't seem like the best way to deliver the day's unexpected news; on the other hand, Sun Ce had always been clear about his appreciation for a straightforward approach.

The swordsman slowed as he reached the closed door of the Sun lord's quarters, hesitating a long moment before knocking. All was silent inside, and Zhou Yu wondered whether the lord of Wu had given his sister the slip during her tenure as sentinel and escaped out a window; it didn't seem out of the question as far as Sun Ce's normal antics were concerned. With a shake of his head, the strategist slid the door open and stepped inside – and then he stopped, one hand resting on the doorframe as a tiny smile threatened his lips.

Sun Ce had not managed to flee his area of quarantine during his swordsman's absence – in fact, the Sun lord wasn't even out of his bed. His tan features were neutral with the serenity of sleep, mouth slightly open as his chest moved with shallow breaths beneath its heap of disorderly blankets. Right beside him, slumped over in her chair with the discarded book serving as a derisory pillow, Shang Xiang rested her pretty head against the mattress. Her eyes were closed tightly as well, flickering beneath their lids in the rhythm of peaceful dreams as ten fingers dug into the mountain of bedding in a search for warmth.

For a long moment, Zhou Yu watched them in silence, his gaze moving from one Sun child to the other in an easy flicker. Part of the swordsman wanted to turn around and leave them sleeping, but Shang Xiang was going to be very uncomfortable and stiff if she slept in her awkward position too long – and besides, in seemed important for the Sun princess to acquaint herself with Lady Qiao's daughter as soon as reasonable. The strategist had no doubt that Sun Ce's sister would love Yingmei exactly the way she adored Xuan: with a hopeful light in her eyes that screamed her own desire to someday raise a family. Zhou Yu cleared his throat softly, obsidian gaze settling over the napping pair like the soft snow outside.

"Shang Xiang?"

The Sun princess started, lifting her head jerkily from the mattress and blinking at the strategist in the doorway as though her thoughts were still hazy and she couldn't quite rationalize his presence. Then memory and understanding flooded the pretty hazel eyes, and she nearly leapt to her feet, abandoning the chair behind her with a sheepish smile as Zhou Yu took a few steps into the bright room and met her stare evenly.

"Zhou Yu… I didn't hear you come in. You were gone a long time, so I…" The swordsman raised a placating hand, the small sliver of a smile lingering on his thin lips as Shang Xiang brushed wrinkles from her robe and tried to restore her hair to a rough order.

"It's not a problem, Shang Xiang. Lady Qiao and I have just returned – but she'd like to see you as soon as possible." Or she ought to, at least – it seemed imperative that those who'd be caring for their new responsibility be informed of the unanticipated burden as quickly as they could be directed toward the Qiaos' quarters.

Shang Xiang started a little, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear and nodding aimlessly. "Da Qiao… okay. I suppose I might as well visit her now." The Sun princess passed him with a smile, only turning back in the doorway to give the strategist a cheeky grin. "Ce was a real brat this afternoon – so I think I'll let you deal with him when he wakes up. Good luck!" And then she was gone, a mirage of rustling silk vanishing from the doorway and humming tunelessly as she moved down the corridor.

Zhou Yu stood silent for a moment, watching the place where Shang Xiang had been with preoccupied eyes. The two sides of his mind moved in conflict again, now warring over the prospect of waking Sun Ce and explaining about the eventful venture Lady Qiao's search for ginseng had become. The young lord had been sick, and rest was truly the best treatment for a cold like his – but there was no denying the immediacy of the day's developments, and no telling how vital the information might become once Sun Ce's courtiers got wind of the incident…

The swordsman turned back to the overladen bed, eyes moving over the blissfully still contours of his sleeping companion's face. One pale hand reached out to rest on the young lord's forehead, and Zhou Yu felt a true smile quirking his lips upward at the corners. Whether from the medicine he had been force-fed or simply the slow progression of time, Sun Ce's fever had broken – only the natural warmth of his sunlit skin remained under the strategist's cold fingers. The dark swordsman withdrew his hand and watched the momentarily distressed expression coloring the young officer's face as he lost the familiar contact, one tan cheek nuzzling into the wrinkled pillows in search of his impassive strategist's palm.

Zhou Yu couldn't figure out how it was possible. Sun Ce was fast asleep, and hadn't said a word beyond his angry tirade earlier that morning – but somehow, despite that, standing beside the Sun lord's sleeping form and studying his highly irregular position put an unquenchable smile on the swordsman's face, chasing all his lingering worries about Lady Qiao and her new daughter from the forefront of his mind. Suddenly he knew what Sun Ce would say about the adoption no matter how or when he was told – he knew the unaffected contours of shrugging shoulders as the young officer smiled, shaking any concern away from his stoic companion's stomach with his own disinterested response.

Hadn't he told Zhou Yu how little Xuan's birth mattered a thousand times before? It would be impossible for Yingmei's arrival to draw a different expression than her cousin's had. Sun Ce's priorities never changed; his determination surpassed all barriers in his surroundings like a soaring phoenix, so intent on its destination that it hardly noticed the changing scenery trying to slow its progress. There was nothing about the new child that truly changed dynamics in their household – not in the young officer's mind. Lady Qiao's daughter was just that – and like her sister's, the whole affair had little to do with Sun Ce or his apprehensive swordsman.

The strategist straightened and took a few steps back, watching his restive lord with a small smirk as soft snores snuck through the Sun lord's lips and interrupted the still air of the winter afternoon. Then Zhou Yu pivoted and left the room completely, closing the door firmly behind him and struggling to shake the persistent smile from his features. The corridor fell away under his quiet footsteps as the swordsman shook his head, heading for his own room and feeling the light of the broken storm with a new sincerity.

It didn't matter, really. News of Yingmei's adoption could wait until Sun Ce deigned to get up of his own accord. And when he did, he would chase any enduring displeasure from Zhou Yu's dark eyes, like he had done ten thousand times before.

Conviction was a contest at which Sun Ce could not be beaten. Not even when he was asleep.

End Chapter 36

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A shorter chapter, finally. This part gave me some trouble because it's an enormous chunk of character development for Lady Qiao, and she's been mostly a blank slate up to this point. In any case, I hope it was enjoyable – comments are always welcome.

A note for Dragon Scales 13: I'm glad you like chapter 34. It's a little difficult to create suspense concerning Zhou Yu's welfare, since he's obviously still alive and mostly in one piece ten years after Sun Ce's death – but I'm pleased that you found it effective, and of course I'd be honored if your friend enjoyed it as well. My apologies for ruining your eyes.

A note for xxx LOVE the SINNER: I apologize for making you cry over Sun Jian's death – although I am also immensely flattered that my writing could touch you emotionally. Xiao Qiao's son is an interesting problem for Zhou Yu, and will continue to be throughout the story. I'm glad you found the chapter interesting – hopefully, this one was also enjoyable. Thank you for your review.

A note for Ever Kitsune: Thank you very much. I'm honored that you like my characterizations of the characters, and of course honored as well that you choose to use those characterizations in your own story. You are certainly free to portray the people in your stories any way you like, and I'd be delighted to read one of your stories in the future. Also, I'm glad you enjoyed the banquet, despite Zhou Yu's distress over his "child." Thank you as always for your gracious comments.

A note for Jen: Gan Ning has become something of an inside joke in my opinion, because of course he doesn't join Wu until after Sun Ce's death. I did want him to be part of the story, though, since he's such a fascinating character – but I have to admit I've never thought of bells as a particularly intimidating sound. Zhou Yu and Sun Ce's arguments are always entertaining for me, and I'm glad you enjoyed this one as well. Thank you for your kind review, and I hope this chapter was interesting for you as well.