Chapter Thirty-Six: Little Xi Shi
A single confession opens a floodgate of consequences.
To the end of his days, Zhao Yun could never quite bear to fully relive that one fateful hour when he'd found himself confronting a treachery from the least likely of sources. To any unsuspecting witness who might have stumbled across the scene, it would appear as if the charming handmaid in pink, crying softly into her sash, had just had her heart broken by the dashing warrior before her.
The bitter irony of the situation didn't escape Zhao Yun. Until the truth came out, he would always be suspected of callously stomping over the pretty Orchid's feelings and driving her to tears…when in actuality, she was the one who had toyed with his heart and was now handing him back the tangled mess that had once been his blossoming love for her.
He hesitated. Perhaps he wasn't being fair to Orchid, to Xi Tian. Handmaid, spy—whatever she might be, she was still the same sweet ingénue she'd been since the first time he'd bumped into her and subsequently sent her screaming off into a wall. The wars, the politics, the constant scheming and plotting of their chaotic era had left Xi Tian surprisingly untouched; from the time she'd been recruited by Cao Cao to this moment, she'd managed to remain an innocent. And besides, it wasn't as if she were double-crossing Shu of her own free will. Her father was essentially a hostage behind the imposing walls of Xuchang, and…
Zhao Yun caught himself in time. This wasn't right. Here he was, poised before a weeping girl, condemning her one moment and condoning her the next. He didn't know what would happen to her, although logic dictated that her future would be pretty grim. But before he could let anything happen to his angel-faced little maid, he had to sort out his feelings toward her.
"Orchid," he began out of habit, then briefly shook his head and corrected himself: "I'm sorry. May I call you Xi Gu Niang?"
Xi Tian, sobbing into her rose sash, failed to make a coherent reply. Zhao Yun sighed wearily. Part of him sympathized with her, ached to see her cry, yet…Once upon a time, he had let her laughter charm him into giving in to her frivolous whims and games. He would not let himself be manipulated by her tears now.
Working to keep his voice at an even timbre, the Spear General commanded firmly, "Xi Gu Niang. Look at me."
And she did. Her vision was blurred by her post-confession tears, but for the first time since they'd met, Xi Tian truly looked at Zhao Yun. Gone were the dimples and blushes, the teasing laughter that she'd adopted in her guise of the impish handmaid, the flirtatious sideways glances of a young girl with a crush.
With no choice but to face the truth, Xi Tian found herself looking at the third Tiger General of Shu and at last seeing past the handsome exterior. She saw that his profile was strong with the power of a gallant warrior, yet the lines and curves of his face were still soft with youth and rather inexperienced of life outside the army tent. She saw that though his hands were not without their share of calluses, no doubt born from years of wielding the Fierce Dragon, his skin itself was remarkably, perfectly unmarred—a testament to his nigh invincibility in battle. She saw his chivalry, his courtesy, his gentle demeanor once off the fields of war—but, oh, what did it all matter now? If she were lucky, she would never see him again. If she were unlucky…But Xi Tian could not allow herself to die without somehow healing that look of hurt betrayal in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, General," she whispered helplessly, wringing her ruined sash between trembling fingers. "Perhaps in another lifetime, the gods will be kind enough to allow me to make amends for…for doing all this to you."
Zhao Yun didn't reply for a long time. When he finally parted his lips, as if to say something, a piercing cry emanating from somewhere in the gardens jolted the couple back to reality. After all, the world couldn't stop turning just to let one pair of would-be lovers sort out its problems, and within seconds, the soldier Ouyang crashed into view as proof of that sentiment.
"General! General Zhao!" the frantic boy half-wheezed, half-hollered at the top of his lungs. "General Zhao, the Changshan ladies are coming out and—"
Zhao Yun didn't stay long enough to find out what those plucky old dowagers had in store for him. A dark thundercloud briefly flittered across his features, before he leapt up, whistling for his horse as he did so. As soon as the snow-white charger had obediently trotted over to its master, Zhao Yun quickly tucked the Fierce Dragon under one arm while using the other to grab Xi Tian's hand. When his sniffling handmaid failed to budge, he lifted the uncooperative girl bodily off the grass and leapt atop his horse, cradling her in such a manner that would be sure to elicit plenty of gossip later on.
Xi Tian let out a shrill yelp when she felt herself being carried off, reflexively throwing up her arms and wrapping them around Zhao Yun's neck out of fear that she would otherwise tumble unceremoniously onto the ground. Locked in this strange embrace, the couple promptly fled from the Wu palace, from the matriarchs of Changshan and their marriageable young daughters.
Not a word passed between the two as they made their escape, until at last, Zhao Yun reached the shores of the Chang Jiang. The Fierce Dragon was the first to noiselessly clatter from his grasp. Xi Tian soon followed, as her bearer carefully dismounted before setting his blushing passenger onto the soft sand.
Off in the distance, the rolling waves of that great river crashed rhythmically, almost melodically, against the beach. Zhao Yun left Xi Tian's side and slowly walked up to the water's edge, staring in moody silence across the moonlit horizon. Somewhere to his far left, a fishing boat was beginning the motions of docking at a rickety old pier that looked ready to collapse under its own worm-eaten weight.
His attention was quickly diverted from that insignificant vessel when the sound of light footsteps behind him indicated that his companion in flight had gotten up as well. Xi Tian moved to join him at the line where pounding green waves mellowed out onto the sandy shore, but made sure to stay a few timid steps behind him.
"What happens now?" she asked in a small voice. "Are you going to take me prisoner in Shu's name?"
Zhao Yun sighed, before replying cryptically, "You're more like your famous ancestor than anybody realized, aren't you?"
A look of confusion swept across Xi Tian's face, so that her mouth opened slightly in a little "O" of surprise. Before she could give voice to that confusion, however, Zhao Yun turned around and captured her gaze. One arm reached up to cup her face in his hands, as he finished his previous thought in an almost tender whisper: "My little Xi Shi(1)."
It took Xi Tian a while to understand the comparison, and when she did, her breath caught in her throat. She looked up and into Zhao Yun's eyes, squaring back her shoulders and blinking fresh tears from her lashes in an effort to appear strong.
"Will you be my Fan Li, then," she asked in a shaky, hope-tinged whisper, "and take me away from all this?"
Zhao Yun shifted slightly on his feet, consciously bringing her body closer so that he might tilt her chin up toward him. This—everything—was so unlike his mist-filled dream from an eternity ago. Then, he had been ready to betray his reputation as that of a virtuous gentleman, for the sake of a kiss from an artless girl. Now…was he getting ready to betray his own lord, all for the sake of a kiss from that same, yet not-quite-so-artless girl?
Zhao Yun closed his eyes and stopped.
"No," he declared aloud, his lips less than a mere inch away from Xi Tian's face. His hand slipped off from her cheek, as he repeated in a shuddering whisper, "No."
From the left, the sound of sarcastic clapping reached his ears, as a gruff male voice scorned, "What a noble wretch you are, Zhao Zilong of Changshan!"
Zhao Yun's head snapped up, turning in the direction of the speaker as a tall, splendidly-armored apparition seemed to materialize in the sand. Xiahou Dun marched steadily toward the pair on the beach, cutting an imposing figure with his cruelly smirking lips and dull gold eye-patch.
"Well, well," the caustic Wei general sneered flippantly, beginning to cross the shore toward his targets, "what a heart-wrenching picture of a pair doomed lovers you two make. It's too bad I'll have to separate you, though—the girl's returning to Wei with me!"
Zhao Yun took a step forward as if to face off against this unexpected opponent.
"General Xiahou Dun," he acknowledged coldly, swooping up his spear in a graceful arc.
Action! Xiahou Dun wickedly ran his tongue over his teeth at the prospect of a duel against a warrior from that tiny Western kingdom he despised so much, until an ingeniously ingenuous remark from the aforementioned warrior's companion placed a sudden rain cloud over his good mood.
"Aiyo…what is that dreadful smell?" Xi Tian wrinkled her nose in displeasure, before raising her sash from around her waist and using it to cover almost the entire lower portion of her face.
Xiahou Dun paused abruptly in his advancement toward Zhao Yun. The tips of his ears heated up with a scarlet flush of annoyance—and perhaps even mortification—as he recalled those endless hours spent on a slimy old fishing boat, fending off the stinking catch of the day as well as San Jie's enthusiastic wandering hands.
Judging by the look on his young opponent's face, it was obvious that the latter had also noticed his distinctive fishy fragrance. Xiahou Dun silently cursed his unfortunate method of transportation, before the silvery glint of a moonbeam striking the Fierce Dragon's spearhead guided his attention back to the matter at hand. In a swift, fluid motion, he unveiled the enormous Kirin Fang and pointed its blade against Zhao Yun.
"Zilong hai er(2)," he called out condescendingly, "you have two choices here: You can make life easy for the both of us, and step aside and let me take back the girl…or you can try to resist, and earn a gallant epitaph along the lines of, 'He died nobly defending his love' for your early grave!"
A pause. Then: "So, boy—what will it be?"
1. Renowned beauty from the Spring and Autumn Period, who was sent by the King of Yue to charm his enemy, the King of Wu, into neglecting state affairs. In comparing Xi Tian to Xi Shi—her "famous ancestor" because the two share the same family name—Zhao Yun is essentially telling her that her presence in Shu has charmed him into losing sight of his duties. Xi Tian turns the analogy around by reminding him of the second half of Xi Shi's legend: During the time that the Yue beauty spent in the King of Wu's court, a prime minister named Fan Li fell deeply in love with her, and she with him. After Xi Shi' s mission was complete, the pair got married and left Wu.
2. Little boy.