Chapter Thirty-One: Dangerous Rumors
Zhang Fei's infamous letter sets the stage for a whirlwind of action.
"…After all, the union's not truly secure without an heir…Besides, a wife's first and foremost duty is to bear her husband a healthy son…And am I to grow old and pass on without ever seeing my grandchildren? Bofu seems more interested in making a mockery of the Sun family name than in siring worthy sons and daughters, while Zhongmou can't even make up his mind about how long he should grow his beard, let alone when and with whom he's going to get married…Ah, my children, are you all purposely trying to break your poor mother's heart? And here you come home, Shang Xiang, touting Lady Gan's child as if he were your own…Daughter, what are you trying to do to your old mother…?"
Zhao Yun winced as he passed by the women's apartments of the Wu palace. Sun Shang Xiang might have made his river voyage a miserable Hell of mockery and bad jokes, but not even she deserved such a cruel and unusual punishment as having to face her mother's righteous fury and listen to the woman's lectures from morning until late into the evening!
"…I know you've always been a stubborn one, dearest, but you simply can't stumble through the rest of your life shirking your womanly responsibilities like this! Your new friends in Shu haven't been putting strange ideas in your head, have they? I've always thought it mighty strange how many single and childless officers that kingdom has—for example, take that strapping young man, General Zhao Zilong: at almost twenty-five, he ought to have at least a wife and son by now; maybe even two, three, four concubines…That's it, isn't it? The Shu kingdom, with its too lenient views on family values, has been steering you in the wrong direction!"
The aforementioned "strapping young man" swallowed nervously when he heard the new direction that Lady Wu's rant had taken. Without looking too conspicuous, he increased his speed and fled past that matriarch's quarters, lest she haul him in for a lecture as well. The last thing he needed was to have his ear nagged off about how his irresponsible bachelorhood was leading the queen of Shu down a path of wifely disobedience and infertility.
Not until the Little Dragon had reached the garden that led toward his own apartments did he feel safe enough to slow down. This visit to the South Land was going even worse than he had dared to predict. Not only had his lord's heir served as a very poor form of appeasement, but now it appeared that Zhao Yun had somehow brought the wrath of the ever-plucky Lady Wu upon his own head.
And then, there was the situation concerning a certain handmaid…a handmaid whose eyes—or lips, for that matter—he hadn't been able to meet for the past few weeks…a handmaid whom he was supposed to be avoiding, for fear of any awkward blunders or slip-ups on his own part…
"General Zhao!"
…A handmaid whom the Heavens seemed to delight in torturing him with, by always placing her somewhere nearby to tease him.
Zhao Yun willed his cheeks not to flame up, taking a deep breath and working his features into their most nonchalant, natural expression. Meanwhile, Xi Tian was already approaching him from the pavilion where she'd been half-heartedly practicing her calligraphy on discarded handkerchiefs. A merry dimple dotted each side of her mouth, as she called out her greeting again: "There you are, General! I was wondering where you'd snuck off to after dinner; don't tell me you're trying to avoid me on purpose?"
She was by his side now, her slender brush still clutched in her hands. It would have been rude not to look at her, so Zhao Yun steeled himself and reluctantly turned around. He almost stumbled backwards when he noticed that her smiling lips somehow appeared redder in the dusky glow of twilight…or was that just his imagination running wild again?
"You're…ah…Are you wearing rouge?" he asked clumsily. Damn it, why must his suddenly lascivious mind focus so much on her lips these days!
Xi Tian's eyes widened slightly in confusion, while she started to explain, "Yes, well, the younger Lady Qiao insisted on sharing her rose petal yan zhi(1) with me..."
Merriment soon overtook her initial surprise, and she proceeded to kid, "Really, General, a big and manly warrior such as yourself shouldn't be going around picking out details about young girls' lips!"
Never before had Zhao Yun been so grateful for the presence of rain. Yet, it seemed as if out of all the Heavenly deities that were taking such delight in tormenting him with Xi Tian, at least the old Dragon King(2) was kind enough to take pity. At that moment, the skies rumbled once, before letting loose with an unexpected autumn shower.
Xi Tian gave a shriek of surprise, her hands flying up to shield her head and hair, her mischievous jokes about yan zhi forgotten in her distress. Despite himself, Zhao Yun had to laugh at her rather silly pose, until her indignant look prompted him to swallow back any remaining chuckles.
"Come on," he instructed, grabbing hold of her arm and taking off in the direction of the little pavilion where she'd been practicing calligraphy by lantern light.
Once inside, he loosened the decorative tiger skin from around his torso and solicitously draped it over her shoulders.
"Are you all right?" he asked, lowering his face concernedly toward her soaked forehead and features.
Xi Tian's response was to sneeze into his chin.
Somehow, those same red lips that had been tantalizing him for the past couple of weeks now lost a bit of their allure.
The minute that Cao Cao stepped into his study, he knew that something had to be wrong. It wasn't terribly hard to deduce, given the stricken look on Sima Yi's pale, handsome face. Try as he might, the chief strategist of Wei could not completely mask his frantic shock. His was the look of a duelist who, in the first moments of having been dealt a sudden crippling blow, is only just beginning to feel the searing licks of pain about to rip apart his body.
"Zhongda, I'm going to give you ten seconds to compose yourself and tell me what is going on," Cao Cao spoke up, at once civil and stern.
In response, Sima Yi motioned with one arm at Ying Ying. The obedient handmaid nodded understandingly, before dropping one last curtsey and sashaying out of the room, softly closing the door after herself. Only then did Sima Yi act, slowly taking a rolled-up letter from his sleeve and presenting it to his lord with a slight bow.
Cao Cao impatiently shook out the letter, taking note of the bold black characters crowding its surface as he sank down onto the nearest chair and began to read. With each line, his lips drew thinner, until his features had grown taut with displeasure by the time he reached the end. He abruptly crumpled the brittle parchment between his fingers and sighed in disgust, reaching for a nearby cup of tea out of habit.
"How did you come across this?" Cao Cao demanded in a low, unflinching voice over the brim of his china cup. Though his hooded eyes appeared to be watching the steaming tea as he blew over it, he made no effort to hide the fact that his true attention was on the infinitesimal pieces of evidence which had fluttered from his fist and were now drifting toward a furnace in the corner.
By then, Sima Yi appeared to have regained enough of his composure, as he replied in his steadiest voice, "My spies noticed an ostentatious caravan heading from Jingzhou to Changshan. Its leader was no more than an inexperienced junior officer, and my men had no trouble getting this letter off of him before the procession had even entered its destined province."
Cao Cao listened in contemplative silence, his only reaction a heavy sigh at the conclusion of the rather brief tale. Finally, he stood up and drew himself to his full height. With slow, thoughtful steps, he began heading toward the doors, at the same time deciding out loud, "Changshan, you say? It appears I'll have to send out my own spies to further investigate this new development."
He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial murmur, as he next instructed his strategist, "In the meantime, Zhongda, I'll trust you to make sure that not a word of this is to reach the ears of our honored guest here at Xuchang."
"I understand and will obey, my lord," Sima Yi bowed low.
Satisfied with this response, Cao Cao opened the doors and strode briskly out of the room.
1. A type of rouge worn on the lips
2. In Chinese mythology, the Dragon King ruled over the seas and controlled all rainfall.