Chapter Twenty-Two: Crimson Silk Blossom
After an engagement cluttered with more obstacles than is the norm, a king finally meets his true bride.
The dainty echoes of rustling silk floated softly across the air, as swirls of misty fabric spun in graceful arches, revealing the red path that the bride and groom were to walk across. Here, before the thrones upon which sat Sun Jian and the stately Lady Wu, the festivities were noticeably more tranquil than the Sun Ce-led parade that had ushered Liu Bei out of his courts. Beneath the raised dais where the two proud parents sat were gathered all the civic officers and generals of importance, Wu on one side, Shu on the other.
Da Qiao and Xiao Qiao were currently performing an elaborately choreographed fan dance, supported by some of the loveliest girls of the South. The dancers made a charming picture in their frosty colored satins—roses and sunshine yellows, blues and violets and greens shaded the palest jade—as they welcomed a never-ceasing flow of wedding guests filing in from beneath a pair of tall red gates.
Yet subtly undermining the refined melodies coming from the lutes, flutes, harps, and qins(1) accompanying the Qiao-led dance were the sounds of youthful voices raised in merry squabbling.
"It's not appropriate for guests to be wearing masks at a wedding," Xi Tian was chiding, wearing a spoiled pout on her deceptively sweet face as if to emphasize her words.
She was standing on tiptoes, her slender arms stretched upwards in an attempt to yank the ornate mask off of Wei Yan's face. The swarthy, powerfully-built general snorted in half-hearted annoyance as he arched his head back and away from the girl's meddling hands.
"Leave…me…alone," the taciturn warrior grunted, gingerly tapping Xi Tian's left shoulder back with one huge paw—gingerly, for fear of unwittingly hurting the handmaid and giving Zhuge Liang yet another reason for distrusting him.
"Why do you wear a mask, anyway? Do you have a really hideous face? Or maybe it's terribly scarred? Are you missing a nose or an eye, and you don't want others to see your deformities?" Xi Tian asked with infuriating innocence, oblivious of his desire to be left in peace and persisting in her fruitless efforts at snatching away the offensive face gear.
"Girl…nosy," Wei Yan complained, tightening his mouth into the most fearsome snarl he could muster in an effort at scaring her away.
Unfortunately for him, however, Xi Tian had learned at an early age that pretty features and a silk dress can be formidable weapons—if wielded by the right feminine hands—at wearing down even the toughest of male resolves. Hardly intimidated by the menacing scowl before her, she instead doubled her efforts at pestering Wei Yan into compliance.
"Or maybe you're actually very handsome, and that forces you to cover up your face with a stinky, tacky mask, or else you'd never strike fear into the hearts of your enemies?" she guessed charmingly.
Before the stunned Wei Yan could respond to that, Zhao Yun thankfully stepped in to rescue his comrade from the triple threat of giggles, dimples, and dubious compliments.
"Orchid, I'm sure General Wenchang looks normal enough beneath that mask," the Little Dragon spoke up, hiding a smile at the almost tangible vibes of exasperation, mixed with grudging amusement, that Wei Yan was emanating.
Before Zhao Yun could add something about respecting others' wishes for privacy, Gan Ning and Zhou Tai appeared into view.
The two former pirates were hurriedly cutting across the rose gardens that were Lady Wu's pride and joy, in a last-minute effort at making it to the Sun-Liu wedding with some semblance of punctuality. Yet apparently, they weren't in so great a hurry that they failed to notice something about the youngest Tiger General's appearance when they passed by their guests from Shu.
Gan Ning momentarily stopped berating Zhou Tai for failing to alert anybody that he didn't have a pageboy named Ren Er, and instead snickered in Zhao Yun's direction, "How manly of you, General!" Zhou Tai obliged with a wordless smirk, and the two Wu officers soon disappeared from earshot.
Zhao Yun frowned, unsure as to the meaning of Gan Ning's enigmatic remark but certain that it had been intended as an insult.
"I wonder what General Gan could have meant by that?" he wondered out loud.
Wei Yan's physical appearance in the eyes of others was soon forgotten, as the dashing warrior instead focused on worrying about his own admirable looks. Perhaps there was some obscure Southern tradition—no doubt linked with the ancient beauties Xi Shi and Wang Zhao Jun, if he were to ask Sun Ce—concerning appropriate wedding attire?
But if it truly were some quaint Wu-exclusive tradition, then why did the Jingzhou-born handmaid beside him suddenly look so guilty?
Zhao Yun whirled around to face Xi Tian, who unwittingly let out a tiny squeak when she felt the young Tiger's eyes fixed on her.
"Orchid, do you happen to know why General Gan just made a comment about my masculinity?" he asked, stepping over to the nineteen-year-old while one of his eyebrows slanted upwards in a question.
Xi Tian did her best to palm off a look of absolute wide-eyed innocence, but already, that telltale pink was seeping up her face.
"Ah…no?" she chirped in a small voice, frantically dimpling in an attempt to cover up her sheepishness.
"Then why are you blushing like that?" Zhao Yun pointed out, raising his right hand and softly brushing her cheek to emphasize his words.
Where was a good accessory to hide behind when a girl needed it the most? But Xi Tian's favorite butterfly-embroidered fan was currently being abused as a flyswatter by Zhang Fei, while her handkerchief was still in Zhao Yun's possession, following the little incident on the Chang Jiang. She couldn't even hope to cover part of her face with the gossamer sleeves of her strawberry gown, for they were so sheer and delicate as to be virtually see-through.
With Zhao Yun's teasing eyes watching her every move, Xi Tian finally darted behind Guan Yu, pulling up his luxuriant black beard and holding it over her flaming cheeks.
"General Zhao must be seeing things; I'm not blushing," she sang out, her voice slightly muffled by the hundred or so strands of coal-colored facial hair defending her face.
Wei Yan, eager to get back at her for her earlier attempts at unmasking him, now smugly informed Zhao Yun, "Flower…in…your…hair."
Zhao Yun's eyes widened. So that was why all the other officers had been shooting him smirks ever since a certain handmaid had brushed his hair for him! The young warrior strode frantically over to Wei Yan and, using the latter's well-polished mask as a mirror, examined his reflection.
It wasn't terribly hard to notice a hazy splotch of pastel amongst his otherwise dark locks. When Zhao Yun reached up with one hand and yanked it out of his hair, he inevitably found grasped in his fist a single ornamental lotus.
Zhao Yun gasped in surprise upon seeing the evidence, as a shade of pink which perfectly matched Xi Tian's unexpected little present flooded his face. Turning toward the responsible party, he took a step closer while mock-threateningly uttering her name: "Orchid…"
Xi Tian peeped, and shrank further behind Guan Yu. The august leader of the Tiger Generals, standing tall and proud at his sworn brother's wedding, spared an amused half-smile down at the girl using his beard as a shield.
He then turned his attention to Zhao Yun, glancing in the younger officer's direction and reproving, "Zilong, mind your manners."
For the bride and groom had finally arrived.
Heralded by dancing lions and dragons and escorted by a multitude of musicians, bridesmaids, and young children, Liu Bei and the heavily-veiled Sun Shang Xiang were slowly making their way down the red path. Between them they carried a thick sash of crimson silk, elaborately knotted into a gigantic flower blossom. The bride and groom walked underneath a ceiling of evening stars and rainbow-bright firecrackers, preparing to seal their marriage with three bows—one to the Heavens, one to their ancestors, and one to each other.
The attack struck as abruptly and ferociously as thunder.
Xi Tian was just setting out the soft, padded cushions for Liu Bei and Sun Shang Xiang to kneel on as they bowed to the Heavens, when the deafening clash of voices raised in battle cries engulfed the air like invading locusts. The heavy mahogany gates, decorously closed by servants after the bride and groom had entered, were now slammed open with a vengeance, stirring up such a strong gust of wind that several candles went out.
Zhou Yu was the first one to recover his senses and shout frantically, "Enemy raid!"
But his announcement proved superfluous. From the inky shadows stretching beyond the gates, the shapes of marauding soldiers were already pouring inside. The beautiful dancers were the first ones to let out shrill yelps of fright, despite Da Qiao and Xiao Qiao's best efforts at maintaining order over them. Several of these pampered girls fled, scattering in all directions like silken butterflies, and their actions soon proved themselves to be a catalyst for chaos.
Enemy plunderers slashed at golden statues and tore apart expensive brocades, screams erupted from amongst the sea of wedding guests, chairs were abandoned or overthrown in their occupiers' haste to escape to safety, and lighted scarlet candles were accidentally knocked onto the ground or into the nearest curtains.
And amidst all the confusion, the blue war flags of Wei towered over all others, their rising phoenixes poised for flight like shrieking demons.
Zhao Yun reacted on instinct. With one hand, he quickly led Xi Tian to safety behind a broad ivory pillar in an obscure corner; with the other, he picked up an oversized lute from a startled musician nearby, brandishing the instrument like a weapon in lieu of his Fierce Dragon spear. His expert eyes picked out an enemy, and in a flash, the intrepid warrior had knocked his opponent out with a rather melodious bang.
Around him, he could see his fellow generals doing the same, substituting wedding props for the battle gear they'd left behind in their chambers.
Guan Yu had wrenched a giant peacock ornament on a tall staff from its bearer, and was wielding it as proficiently as if it were his famed Blue Dragon Saber. Sun Ce, finding his tonfas confiscated by his mother for fear that he might get drunk at the wedding banquet and try to pick a fight with somebody, was improvising by hurling fiery candles at his opponents as if they were flying daggers…and occasionally burning his own fingers on the hot wax!
Standing in the middle of the chaos, Liu Bei reflexively flung one arm in front of his still-veiled young bride. Yet he soon discovered that this grim and silent oath to protect the princess of Wu was unnecessary: Upon hearing the first notes of discord, Sun Shang Xiang had flung her smothering crimson veil to the ground. The heavy gemstone-encrusted headdress, with its thousand strings of soft pearls, fell next, followed in due time by flowers, feathered hair ornaments, and dangling, tear-shaped earrings.
While Phoenix brought over a pair of large gold trays, Sun Shang Xiang hastily ripped off as many layers of her heavily embroidered wedding gown as she could shed and still remain a lady, then quickly knotted a discarded length of satin around her head to prevent any rebellious strands of hair from falling into her eyes. Before Liu Bei could even find an appropriate substitute for his Gold Moon Dragon, his wife had already charged into battle, her twin trays slashing the air in perfect imitation of the Sol Chakrams.
It took little more than a swift skirmish to dispatch of the uninvited Wei unit. The last blue-clad raider fell under a heavy blow from Zhao Yun's lute, and a sudden hush descended upon the palace grounds.
Finally, Liu Bei broke the silence. In the unnatural quiet that followed the tussle's end, the Shu king's voice sounded as loud as a battle gong. Slowly, he turned to his scarlet-clad bride, still poised with her trays as if they were chakrams, and incredulously uttered a single name.
"Ren Er?"
1. A Chinese string instrument, commonly translated as a zither.