w00t, the one-year anniversary of Western Sky!

It's still hard for me to believe that this story has really been going on for a year! Anyways, I know I've been a horrible updater lately, but college has been keeping me running from place to place (literally! Some of my classes are scattered all the way at opposite ends of the campus x.X) But, I knew I had to get something out for the one-year anniversary of this story, so here it is, the long-overdue Chapter Forty-Six of Western Sky!

Chapter Forty-Six: Pink Silk

A memento from the past inspires a quiet confrontation.

Clear liquid lapped softly against smooth clay, breaking into crystalline spirals of ripples upon contact. And then it was abruptly lifted up, raised as if by an otherworldly force, and turned on its side to unceremoniously splash into islands of bronze below.

"Lai lai lai(1)!" Zhang Fei chortled loudly, pouring generous servings of pungent rice spirits for everyone gathered around the low card table. "What's a good game without refreshments, right?" And he cheerfully let the clear alcohol rain in torrents over the goblets waiting below.

From her seat, Yue Ying shot a discreet look of incredulity at her husband. It wasn't an everyday occurrence when a woman was invited to these loud, bawdy, and usually drunken gambling sessions. But on this particular occasion, Zhang Fei found himself needing a fourth player, and neither of his oath brothers were exactly within hollering distance. In fact, convincing the Prime Minister alone to join had been a mighty task. But the Prime Minister's wife—the only reason Lady Huang had finally caved in was because she didn't want to be responsible for dimming the Second Tiger's enthusiastic mood right before a critical campaign.

Which was how Yue Ying found herself reluctantly joining her equally wary husband for a friendly gambling session with Zhang Fei. The latter's young son, Zhang Bao, had come onboard at the last minute, taking the spot usually reserved for Zhao Yun and thus completing the quartet of players.

As the men at the table drank a quick pre-game toast—Zhuge Liang with meticulous care, Zhang Bao with all the beaming pride of an adolescent just recently allowed to taste alcohol, and the boy's father practically inhaling an entire wine jar—the only woman present snuck a worried look at the cards she held before her. Having never been an avid gambler in all twenty-three years of her life, Yue Ying was now finding herself trying to decipher exactly what the various numbers and images meant. She could only assume that the number cards worked in ascending order…so that must mean that her red seven was greater than her black five, right?

But what of the peculiar cards with dainty human figures painted on them? There was one bearing semblance to what Yue Ying assumed was an Imperial consort, judging by the elaborate robes and headdress she wore. What was her relationship to the man in Warring States period armor? Yue Ying frowned worriedly to herself, but her time for silent musing was rapidly beginning to run out: Zhang Bao had already laid out the first card, thus initiating the game.

"Your turn, Lady Huang," the boy's father hiccupped tipsily.

Well, at least the Tiger General had been enough of a gentleman to turn his head away and belch upwind from Yue Ying. The poor lady warrior managed a weak smile, as she contemplated her move. The strategist in her didn't particularly like to lose a game of wits, yet at the same time, years of playing chess against Kongming had taught her to take defeats with surprising grace.

Yue Ying decided to take a chance, and slid her Imperial consort card across the table. After all, it was just a game; she had nothing serious to lose, really. Besides, she didn't much care for the smug look painted on the concubine's too-red lips—she was glad to be rid of that particular card either way.

So was, for that matter, the host presiding over their gambling table. Zhang Fei's eyes lit up in delight upon seeing the Imperial consort's falsely beautiful face smirking up at him, before he seized upon the little rectangle with a triumphant whoop and eagerly added it to his own hand.

"Hah! I have a Peach!" the swarthy giant hollered, with all the glee of a little boy winning his first game.

Yue Ying blinked.

"Peach?" she echoed to herself, as Zhang Fei continued to loudly celebrate his victory.

Zhang Bao, who was seated next to her, leaned over to whisper out an explanation.

"My old man names his hands after food—that's how he remembers them," the young spearman revealed, as said "old man" merrily laid his cards upon the table, snapping them out one by one.

Yue Ying smiled and nodded: "I understand."

"The lowest hand is Peanut," Zhang Bao continued in a confidential whisper. "Peach is generally considered the winning hand. It can only be beaten by—"

"Litchi, am I correct?" Zhuge Liang interrupted in a languid drawl.

The combination of amusement and deep-seated confidence in his voice was strong enough to break through even Zhang Fei's cloud of euphoria. The proud owner of the Peach hand narrowed his eyes suspiciously, as he questioned his challenger, "What are you talking about?"

Zhuge Liang smiled—one of those slow, almost indolent smiles that never failed to drive his opponents crazy.

"Forgive my ignorance, General Zhang, as I've previously only observed these games but never actually participated in them," he began, with all the smooth politeness in the world. "However, I do recall that a particularly rare hand—I believe you call it Litchi?—defeats all others."

And here he began laying out his hand in groups of three.

"Three of each kind constitutes a Litchi…am I right?" Zhuge Liang drawled after he'd finished this task.

Zhang Fei grumbled something incoherent under his breath, before turning to his side and taking such a huge consolation gulp from his wine jug, twin lines of alcohol ran messily down his chin. When the rice spirits had loosened him up a bit, he conceded grudgingly, "Yeah, yeah, you're right as always, Prime Minister. Just that I'm not used to losing. Damn!"

"That's because General Zhao always used to let him win," Zhang Bao leaned over and disclosed to Yue Ying, who merely smiled.

She didn't particularly care to admit it, but she was pleasantly surprised by how much she was enjoying this game.

However, the smile was quick to slip off her lips when she caught her husband's troubled expression. Mention of the Little Dragon's name had brought a disquieted look onto Kongming's face. Yue Ying thought she detected lines of concern…and was that perhaps a tinge of guilt in his eyes?

Slowly, Zhuge Liang stood up. Gathering his fan and hat, the Shu strategist leisurely dipped a bow to his host, then turned and repeated the courteous gesture with the other players at the table.

"If you'll excuse me," he began apologetically, "I must be going now."

And with those words he left, slowly ambling out of the room and heading toward the general direction of the ship's deck.

Yue Ying bit down on her lower lip, following her husband's movements with worried almond eyes, until he had vanished out of view. Zhang Fei didn't look particularly happy, either, but his reasons were wholly different from hers, and his distress was easily placated the minute Xing Cai passed by.

"Daughter!" the Second Tiger blustered merrily. "Come join us; we could use a fourth player!"

The sultry nineteen-year-old girl paused, and exchanged a meaningful look with her brother. Zhang Bao nodded, and below the table, his hand curved in a special gesture which only his sister understood. After this brief sibling exchange, Xing Cai's lips arched in a crimson smile of comprehension, before she stepped inside and duly took over the seat Zhuge Liang had just vacated.

"If you say so, Father," she agreed, then added sweetly, "Father, would you care for some more wine?"

Before Zhang Fei had the time to respond in the affirmative, his daughter had already leaned over to pour him another cup of spirits, taking the opportunity to also sneak a look at his card hand.

"Ahem." Xing Cai softly cleared her throat, upon which hearing it Zhang Bao immediately trained his eyes in her direction.

While Zhang Fei preoccupied himself with finishing his drink, Xing Cai discreetly began revealing the cards in his possession. Two fives…three eights…Xing Cai then raised two fingers and tapped gently at her temples, and it was here that Yue Ying gave up trying to decipher the secret code brother and sister had worked out since childhood.

But Zhang Bao had obviously learned enough, and he now spoke up loudly: "Well, I guess I'll go first, then." With that, he laid down a number card—a red five.

"Is that a five I see?" Xing Cai observed innocently, just loud enough to draw their father's attention.

"Where?" Zhang Fei looked, and upon confirmation of the five, wasted no time bellowing, "Hah!"

With a roar of triumph, he snatched up the card, and began whooping, "That's all I needed! Thanks, son!" And with that, he smugly revealed his own Litchi hand—his first one since Zhao Yun had quietly stopped playing a few weeks earlier.

"Oh, no! If I'd known what you had, I never would've put out that five!" his son wailed convincingly.

Yue Ying shot an amused look at Xing Cai, causing the girl to smile guiltily before raising a finger to her lips in the gesture for secrecy. As Zhang Bao continued to lay on the theatrics, Yue Ying turned her head away and faked a few coughs to mask her laughter. Yes, she really was enjoying this game—far more than she'd initially expected to.

Roseate.

"Here." Twin dimples graced winsome lips, as slim hands offered a small token of appreciation.

"I will forever cherish this, fair Orchid." Spoken with just a tinge of jest, eyebrows waggling playfully, as if demanding a richer reward for pulling the maiden out of the Great River.

Golden-hued eyes rolling heavenward, soaked handkerchief dabbing at wet forehead and cheeks, pale green droplets splashing from water-damaged silk and gently tingeing cool skin. When the task was over and the maiden preoccupied with other matters, her handsome cavalier stealthily snuck her handkerchief amongst his own possessions.

Faintly perfumed.

"You said this was supposed to be a joke."

"It is."

"Then where's the funny part?"

A playful tug at the showy lotus in her hair: "Have a little patience and I'll get to the funny part."

"Oh, all right. Go on, then." A pout, thrown as a warning of future complaints to come if he didn't get to the funny part of the joke soon.

"So the young man went to his local fortune-teller, and was told that he would meet a beautiful girl one day—'Hui peng dao yi ge mei nu yi tian.' Hearing this, the young man smiled and confidently returned to his village. He waited for an entire year, but still his promised beauty did not show up, so one morning he returned to the fortune-teller's to complain."

"And what happened?"

"The young man lamented to the fortune-teller: 'You told me I would meet a beautiful girl one day. Hui peng dao yi ge mei nu yi tian. Why is it that she still does not come?' Hearing this, the fortune-teller let out a loud laugh and shook his head, smiling and saying, 'Young man, you misheard me. I didn't say you would meet a beautiful girl one day.' And he laughed again."

"Well, what did he say, then? Don't be mean; tell me the rest of this story."

A mischievous grin: "He said, 'What I told you was—Hui peng dao yi ge mei nu, Xi Tian. You will meet a beautiful girl, Xi Tian!' "

Eyes widened in a mixture of embarrassment and delight, cheeks flared as pink as the handkerchief exchanged upon the Chang Jiang.

"At last, the young man realized that he couldn't just sit around and wait for the maiden to find him one day. Instead, he'd have to go out and search for this beauty named Xi Tian—"

But he never got to finish his joke, for, with a cry, the titular character of his story had sprung upon him and was now trying to smother him with his own tiger's skin.

Soft, shimmering silk.

"No!"

Face ashen with stunned betrayal, he turned around to look at her, possibly for the last time. He'd been prepared to fight for her, if necessary, die for her…but she'd refused. She couldn't allow him to make that sacrifice for her. He understood, and yet he didn't.

And then she was gone, taken away by the man he'd been dueling so fiercely a second, a minute, a lifetime ago. He watched her leave with broken eyes—a pale, almost ethereal figure in the moonlight, disappearing into the velvety darkness of the night, sailing away on the Chang Jiang so that she might go home. Home, to her father. Home, to the young man waiting to make her his wife.

She never said good-bye.

Zhao Yun stared in moody silence across the expanse of land and water, unheeding of the playful breeze which insisted upon dancing with his long, dark hair. The lustrous, lotus-pink handkerchief entwined between his fingers fluttered filmily in the river wind, moving with a mischievous grace so reminiscent of its mistress. Zhao Yun closed his eyes and wordlessly brought the slip of silk to his cheek, as if hoping that this gesture could somehow bring back the warmth and laughter of the girl who'd once owned that very handkerchief.

When he heard the soft treading of familiar footsteps, he failed to open his eyes or turn around, but did straighten up in acknowledgement when a voice behind him pronounced, "We'll be landing at Yizhou soon."

No words were spoken to answer that perfunctory opening statement, but Zhuge Liang chose to go on: "It will be a very intense campaign, Zilong."

Zhao Yun finally turned around.

"And you're afraid I might be too preoccupied with personal matters to give it my all, is that right?" The words were flat, almost dull, but nevertheless spoken without a trace of venom.

Zhuge Liang frowned and walked up to join Zhao Yun by the deck railings, but before he could say anything, the young warrior beside him had already uttered the inevitable question: "How long, Prime Minister? How long have you known?"

"About Xi Gu Niang?" the strategist asked.

"About everything," came the soft response.

Zhuge Liang sighed. Well, he had been putting off this moment for the past couple of weeks; it was time he got this over with. Besides, Zhao Yun deserved to know his reasons, his motivation, for deceiving him about…everything.

"I believe we need to talk," Zhuge Liang spoke up quietly.

1. Come on.