(2.1)

I had always thought that men viewed love as a conquest; that when a suitor came for me, he would seek to master me, as a man masters a dog or a horse. For this reason, when Zhuge Liang came to seek my hand, I gave him no chance before I challenged him. He readily answered my first test; but had I been more patient, I would have seen -- it was not his goal to subjugate me, either by force of arms or intellect.

How ironic it is! If he had passed my three tests and tried to bend me to his will, I would have fought him to the death; but in the end he mastered me without even trying.

On his second visit, he brought with him some of his designs, as promised. I had a pair of swords ready, that I might duel him, but I was reluctant to issue my challenge. Glad for an excuse to delay it, I sat down with him to study the designs.

Such marvelous ideas he had, and a brilliant mind for invention! It was not long before I was so caught up in examining his work, I forgot the swords completely. Over the next hour, my father discreetly removed them; but by then we were too engrossed in conversation for me to care.

We lamented the turmoil that the land was in. I asked if he ever thought it would end. He said, "It will eventually; but perhaps not in our lifetime. However, within the next few years, we will see a sort of stability emerge in a triangle of powers."

"You think so?" I said, surprised.

He nodded. "Most assuredly."

"How do you mean?"

He rose, lifting a stick from the ground. In quick, bold strokes, he sketched in the dirt. Before my startled gaze, a perfect map of the empire appeared. Zhuge Liang drew a line around the vast northern segment and wrote on it.

"The north has been claimed by Cao Cao. The south…" He sketched another division. "… belongs to the Sun family. Liu Zhang in the west is weak; there is no one there to unify the area. Someone of ability shall take it, and that will make the third partition in the balance of power."

As he spoke, a shiver crept along my spine. Though I wondered how he could possibly be certain, something in his words rang true to me. For the first time, I began to see that Zhuge Liang was no ordinary scholar. His abilities, and his vast array of knowledge, I had only glimpsed the surface of. Already I knew his intellect surpassed mine, and yet… As I looked down at that perfect reproduction of the empire, drawn so easily from memory, I felt something like awe. But I did not comment on this remarkable feat. Instead, my eyes were drawn to his feather fan. I had been wondering about it, and I asked, "Why do you carry that fan?"

He gave the item in question a glance. "It's to remind me of a teacher I once had."

"May I see it?"

For the first time I saw a trace of reluctance in his face. Evidently, the item was quite precious to him, though he did offer it to me.

My fingers brushed against his as I took it. It was the faintest contact; yet it lingered in my awareness. "You say it reminds you of a teacher?" I said, running my hand along the soft feathers.

"Yes, and of a lesson he taught me."

"What lesson was that?"

"One about which you have shown far more wisdom than I, without the need for any correction," he said, a hint of mirth in his voice. To my look of puzzlement, he added, "I was drawn in by a woman who was very beautiful. She was nothing but trouble; but she was quite charming, and for a while I neglected all other things in order to see her."

"Ah…" My eyebrows shot up. This was not a confession I had expected to hear from him. Naturally, I did not think well of him for it. "So there was a time when you would have failed my little test."

"Nobody is born wise," replied Zhuge Liang. "We have many experiences over our lifetimes; the wise are those who learn from them."

"Nevertheless, I would not have been beguiled by this woman's beauty."

He chuckled. "I suspected you would be displeased."

"And well you deserve it," I replied, feeling as if I had been a little deceived. I had been under the impression that he was a man to look past appearances; but apparently he was like any other -- easily swayed by a woman's beauty. Is it too much to expect to find a man who can look beyond such things?

"I certainly did then," Zhuge Liang agreed with me. "But I am not the same fool I was those years ago."

"How am I to be sure you will not judge by looks again?"

"I would not have told you the story if I had not learned from it," he replied. "I am not infallible. What person is? To be human is to endure a lifetime of mistakes." He arched an eyebrow at me. "Perhaps you've never made any?"

I flushed, annoyed at his words, because they were true. "None as glaringly obvious, anyway."

He laughed at that. "I see. It seems I really have offended you. Well I'm sorry; I can't help what I did in the past. Since I can't be forgiven perhaps I'd better leave, but I'll have my fan back, first."

I held onto it, regarding him thoughtfully as he waited for me to hand it back. In truth, I was quite annoyed by this story he'd told; but was it not better for him to have admitted it to me, than to have denied it? I found my thoughts drifting back to an event that had happened in my childhood. It brought a slight frown to my lips. Returning his fan to him, I told him, "Since you have given me so candid a confession, I will give you one in turn."

That roused his curiosity. What I subsequently admitted was not a tale I am proud of; but he had shared some folly of his, and I decided to reciprocate.

"When I was a child," I said, "my father had me instructed in the martial arts, knowing how dangerous the world is and that I might benefit from being able to protect myself. My master agreed to teach me only because of my father's reputation as a scholar; but he viewed me as an inferior to his boy students, and a waste of time. However, by my hard work and dedication, I gradually overcame his bias. Soon I was one of his best students.

"One day, I got into an argument with an older boy of my class. He challenged me to a duel. The agreement was that whoever lost would leave the school and never study martial arts again. I realized afterwards what a fool I'd been to make such a bargain. He was the superior student; if I followed through with our duel, he would surely defeat me, and I would have to cease my studies. I was too proud to back down, but bound to lose. What I ended up doing was a greater shame than either…

"I drugged his drink before the match, and won. But my teacher saw from my opponent's symptoms that he was unwell, and it did not take him long to learn what had happened. Furious, he threw me out of the school. My father was deeply ashamed. For weeks he would not speak to me."

During my recitation, a thin frown appeared on my suitor's face. As I paused, he flicked his sleeves dismissively and turned his back, saying, "Your father was lenient. For a student to behave in such a way is unthinkable. Have you no sense of honor?"

His harsh tone astonished me. "I was a child!" I exclaimed. "Of course I should never behave in such a way now! At the time I was only eight years old. I only told you because—" I stopped, for he was glancing at me over his shoulder, his face partially hidden by the feather fan. But there was an amused sparkle in his eyes. I suspected that behind the fan, he was smiling. Realizing he was only toying with me, I exclaimed, "Ah, I see your game!" All right, so perhaps I deserved that… I had been rather quick to judge him on his past mistake, after all. Nevertheless, I was a little nettled at his way of pointing it out to me.

Zhuge Liang chuckled, and soothed my irritation somewhat when he said gently, "Of course I understand that you've learned better since. At least you have the excuse of having been only a child. I'm sure it was quite a hard lesson for you. Did your master eventually forgive you?"

"Yes… after many weeks of penitence and a solemn oath that I would never do anything dishonest again. When I remember his scolding, I still feel shame. It struck me to the very core. I shall never forget his disappointment, or my father's. From that mistake, I have spent my life trying to prove myself to them. In a way, it was better it happened… else I'd not have been so dedicated."

Liang looked contemplatively at his feather fan and replied, "Well do I understand that feeling."

At that, we stood together in silence for a little while, each lost in our own thoughts. We were barely acquaintances, yet our shared experiences forged a sympathetic bond between us. As each of us saw life a bit more clearly through the other's eyes, I found myself drawn to him.

When I glanced up from my reverie, I saw that he was looking at me. It made me uncomfortable; but it was not an unpleasant sort of discomfort. Feeling rather self-conscious, I said, "I am now my teacher's best student. He holds me up as an example for the others. When they err in judgment, he points to me as one whom they should follow."

"A year after this affair," said Zhuge Liang, "my teacher claimed I had learned all he had to teach me. He was well pleased, and sent me out into the world."

He smiled at me. I returned the smile, which brought a warm flush to my cheeks. We both laughed at the folly of our youth, and sitting down on a bench, we fell deep into conversation, all feelings mended between us.

The rest of the afternoon flew by so swiftly it seemed we had barely begun to talk, and then it was over. When Zhuge Liang prepared to take his leave, he said to me, "My teacher's final advice to me was never to be confused by the illusionary surface of the world, and to see everything in its true form. Miss Huang, you may think yourself plain; but you are a far more beautiful woman than any other I have ever met. Whatever your decision will be, I consider myself fortunate to have been allowed these hours in your presence. Take care."

With these words he was gone, leaving me breathless. I felt a rush of emotions I can neither explain nor describe.

How can I tell about the beauty of those days? It seems a lifetime ago… Over the next two weeks Zhuge Liang continued to pay frequent visits, and meanwhile my feelings towards him were steadily changing. My heart would beat erratically in his presence. Whenever our eyes met, warmth bubbled like anxious butterflies inside me, and each time he left, a sense of emptiness followed like a shadow. I was unused to such emotions. I marveled at them, and at the same time feared them. Who was this person I was becoming? Where had the calm, collected, self-assured woman gone whom I had worked so hard to cultivate? In his presence, my mind scattered. I felt giddy, foolish, and most wondrous of all – delighted to be that way. At the same time it hurt. There was an ache in my soul that seemed to grow daily. It became a restless yearning I felt whenever Zhuge Liang was absent.

"You are in love," my father told me.

I scoffed, denying the notion because I was afraid of what it might mean for me if it were true. But one day, a conversation with Xing Hua settled the matter. She had come to visit me in order to learn the fate of the young man she had been employed to deceive.

"Master Huang tells me you have not issued your remaining tests," she said.

"So what if I haven't?" I replied. "A man might pass them and prove to be a terrible husband. Because he might outdo me does not mean he will treat me well."

"True," said Xing Hua. "I would not have set such tests to begin with. But I think it is a good thing you decided not to go through with them with Master Sleeping Dragon." She smiled. "He would have failed at the duel. What a shame that would have been!"

I had no reply to this.

Xing Hua giggled at my silence. She went on, "Yue Ying, I think you should marry him. He is so handsome, after all!"

"That is the worst reason I can conceive of for marrying someone," I replied. "Have you forgotten the purpose of the little ploy you helped me with?"

"Oh, it was a very clever test for him. But still… there's more to marriage than just having a smart person to talk to and play chess with."

"Yes, well…" She was right of course; but I was young and inexperienced, and not comfortable discussing the finer details of married life.

"… after all," the girl went on, in what was almost a lecturing tone, "there are other things you have to do with your husband. And better to do them with a handsome man than an ugly one. Many clever scholars are old and ugly, but quite renowned. Be glad your father didn't pick one of them. Can you imagine kissing some wrinkled, fishy old lips? At least Master Kongming—"

"Xing Hua!" I exclaimed, glaring.

"Well it's true," she said, thrusting out her lip in a pout. "You're so impractical! These are things one ought to think about. It's not just chess and conversation."

"I am quite well informed about the expectations of a married couple; and I've considered them." I felt myself blushing at this admission, and wished she would let the topic drop.

Xing Hua arched her eyebrows. "Oh, you have, have you? Sometimes I wonder about you. You never talk about such things; it makes me wonder how much you do consider them. What do you think of him? Don't you think he's handsome?"

"I consider everything," I said curtly. "And I consider appearance to be of less importance than almost any other aspect of a person's character. My admiration for Kongming has nothing to do with the way he looks."

"What a waste to bestow him on you, then!" she teased. Tossing her pretty head, she added with a giggle, "Well if you won't take him, I will!"

"He wouldn't have you," I replied. The sharpness in my own voice surprised me.

It surprised Xing Hua, too, for I had never spoken to her in such a tone before. She stared at me a moment, then laughed and declared, "I see you've already claimed him!"

This brought a frown to my lips, but I did not deny it. I was too busy thinking, wondering… what if he found another woman, while I delayed making my decision? Her words (which I later learned my father had composed for her, the cunning old fox…) had set off alarms in my mind. For the first time I saw the possibility of losing Zhuge Liang; it was shocking to me how painful such an idea seemed. The sting of it lodged in my heart. It was this insecurity that drove me to speak plainly to my suitor on his next visit.

"I feel I must warn you, my father has said I will make a very poor wife."

"I do not think your father would say that. He adores you; and his esteem for you is evident from the degree of freedom he has given you," replied Zhuge Liang.

"He is desperate to get me married, and will say anything to get me off his hands," I said. "The truth is that I am a willful and difficult woman. I take no pleasure in domestic behavior; that is why he has allowed me to spend my time on inventions and studying."

"I know all this already."

"I will never be anything but a plain woman."

"You are far from plain. If I had wanted to marry a Xing Hua, I would not have come seeking you."

So it went, back and forth, as I gave voice to every doubt rising within me, and he calmly countered them. When he had refuted them all, I felt my last shreds of resistance break away. I hesitated a moment more, and then said, in a voice that was perfectly steady, though within my heart was pounding, "Well then Master Sleeping Dragon, if after all you have heard of me -- if in spite of all my flaws you see something in me worth possessing – I shall gladly accept your offer. From this day forward, I will be yours."

I bowed deeply to him, submitting my life in service. Zhuge Liang quickly pulled me up and put a stop to such gestures. He was delighted at my words, and brought me in to offer my announcement to my father. On hearing that we had finally settled the matter, my father laughed and embraced both of us. The two men discussed the particulars, and a date was set for our wedding.

(2.2)

Such sweet memories are a balm to the bitterness of life, but also a sad reminder of what is gone. Those early days were full of emotional turmoil for me. But it was a wonderful sort of tumult. My racing heart, blushing cheeks, quickly stolen glances at the man who had claimed my affection… Yes, I was very much in love, and all aflutter around my wonderful fiancé. I do not know if he felt the same ardor as I – in fact, I rather doubt it -- but I do recall that he was always in high spirits, resonating with boundless energy. Life was beautiful, it was exuberant, it was painfully vivid and rich, as if all those days we were drunk, and the heady wine was the simple fact of being.

Such days, alas, only come once in a lifetime; and when they have passed, they remain etched in the memory like words on a gravestone… marking something irretrievable and indescribably precious. The days passed and I reminisced about our youth, while in the present, the husband who had grown distant from me slowly worked himself to death.

Sima Yi had checked our attempts at advance time and time again. Zhuge Liang had Wei Yan go out every day to harass the Wei camp with taunts and insults, but still Sima Yi refused to come out and engage our army. Against his defensive tactics, my husband could do nothing. If we did not come up with a plan soon to lure out Sima Yi and defeat him, this would be another expedition ending in failure.

Jiang Wei and I racked our brains for some idea, but found none. If there was to be a brilliant strategy to bring us the victory, Zhuge Liang would have to conceive it. He spent day and night pondering the problem. We could only wait. Meanwhile, he grew sicker… but I could say nothing to him. Of late, he had arranged tasks that kept me occupied, so that I could not pester him.

On a mild summer afternoon, I came to visit my overworked husband, who had spent most of the day in his tent, poring over maps and charts. I was supposed to be drilling one of our units in the use of the arbalests; but I had persuaded Jiang Wei to take my duty for the day. I suggested to Zhuge Liang that a change of scenery might aid his thought process, and asked if he would come out for a walk. He looked momentarily surprised to see me, but evidently his efforts were not going well, for he pushed the charts aside in disgust, muttering, "I may as well…"

We went outside. Predictably, his inclination was to tour the camp – which he could at least excuse as work. I did not think exchanging one task for another was going to help matters, and suggested instead, "Let's go up to the top of that ridge, and watch the sun set. We'll see what we can of the landscape; maybe it will give you some ideas."

He looked doubtful, but I was insistent. I think he acquiesced only because he felt too ill, his thoughts too scattered, for him to argue with me. I ordered horses saddled, and the two of us set off. The path we took carried us far from the camp, and we were soon engulfed in the splendor of nature. At the crest of the ridge, we paused. The view was breathtaking; it reminded me painfully of home, where so many years ago we had often gone for long walks in appreciation of the scenery around us. I dismounted and suggested, "Let's rest here for a bit, and watch the sun set."

He agreed, if only to humor me. We were soon standing side by side, the wind brushing against our faces and the sunlight throwing dazzling rays across the world. I clasped his hand in mine as we watched the light slowly descend. It was like a phoenix dying on the horizon.

Next to me, my husband sighed.

"It's so peaceful up here," I said.

"It is," he acknowledged. A frown touched the corners of his lips. "It's very beautiful… The land has always been beautiful; but the ravages of war have destroyed so much. It will take generations to cleanse it of the blood that's been shed."

… if we succeed. He left that thought unspoken, but both of us felt it, hanging heavily in the silence. I squeezed his hand, reassuring him, "We will restore peace to the land." If only he had been a less perceptive man; then the confidence in my tone might have cheered him. But he knew too well the doubts I felt.

He made no reply. It did not surprise me -- these days, he spent most of his time ignoring me. I turned to look at him. There was a faint glimmer in his eyes, which he blinked away, squinting against the sun's golden light.

"… my dear?" I queried.

"Our lord's dream was to unite the land and protect the people," he said softly. "What a shame that he could not live to see it fulfilled."

Mention of our lord brought a hollow ache to my chest, like the pain of an old wound. I kinder man than Liu Bei, I have never met. At our first meeting he apologized to me, bowing his head and saying, "My lady, it is on my account that your husband shall be hereafter embroiled in the chaos of the world. I wish to put an end to the trouble, and bring peace to the land. But for that purpose, I have taken from you your peaceful life. Truly, I am sorry."

Such a gentle man he was… There was nothing that pained him more than to see the people suffering. Though we called him lord, he was not only a master to us; he was a dear friend. When he came to plead for my husband's help, his sincerity earned Liang's devotion to his cause. In the years that followed, Liu Bei's nobility and compassion turned that devotion to friendship, from friendship to dedication, to undying affection. Any one of us would have been gladly chopped to pieces for him.

There was no doubt that Zhuge Liang loved his lord more than his family, more than his wife or his own son. The loyalty of servant and master was a thing profound; yet I loved my husband all the more for it. For you see, I, too, lived under the spell of Liu Bei's vision. To restore the empire, to bring peace to the land… we would have offered our lives, our souls… anything.

But now, it seemed as if all we had already given, and all that those who had come before us had given, would be for naught. Liu Bei and his brothers were dead. The Five Tiger Generals were dead. Zhao Yun, the last to die and the most methodical and reliable of the five, had been a dear friend to my husband and I. Losing him had been like losing a limb… I felt crippled. To my husband, to whom Zhao Yun was the closest friend after Liu Bei, I cannot imagine what a blow it had been. Zhao Yun had been the last connection to our late lord – the final member of a fading generation.

Now, it was only the two of us. There was no one from the time of our lord's life. No one but me. And from me Zhuge Liang had grown distant, moving progressively farther as my attempts to tend to his health interfered, as he saw it, with his struggle to fulfill his master's dream.

If only he knew… there was nothing I wanted more to see accomplished. But how could it happen, if he drove himself to death?

The last glimmer of the sun winked out at the horizon. I breathed in deeply, looking out over the beauty of the landscape, and the world seemed empty. I leaned close to my husband, taking his arm and holding it. He was all I had left. But for him… I don't even know if I counted anymore. He had only the shattered remnants of a dream.

Thinking of the distance between us made me sad. I felt the past closing in, tugging ever more strongly on my consciousness, and I closed my eyes over tears as I rested my head on his shoulder. Lost in his own thoughts, he did not respond. After a bit, I said quietly, "The world is a harsher place without him. His compassion made the lives of the common people bearable."

"Yes…" agreed Zhuge Liang. I felt him sigh. "His greatest wish was for the peoples' happiness. There was such goodness… such kindness in him… How could I repay that with failure?"

The tremor of regret in his voice shook me. While he lived, Liu Bei's dream had been a light of hope to all of us. Now that he was dead, it was a hole gnawing at my husband's soul, haunting him with the fear of failure. Over health, family, life… it consumed him. I wonder if Liu Bei knew, when he passed his dream onto his faithful strategist, what a burden he was laying upon him?

I would have comforted him if I could, but he was too far from me now to heed anything I might say. Besides, what consoling words could I offer? If he was so depressed, it meant he had no idea how to counter Sima Yi's stubborn defense, and we would lose once again and eventually be forced to retreat. After so many failures, and with his health fading, what chance did we have of seeing another expedition?

Our only hope was that he think of something… he must think of something. That was a burden he did not need reiterated to him, and I held my peace.

As if my heart were not constricted enough already, Zhuge Liang broke into a fit of coughing. I held to him, trying to help him recover his breath, but the fit was very bad. He sank to his knees, struggling for breath, and I hurried to get a water-filled gourd from one of the horses.

He was still recovering when we heard the hoof beats of an approaching horse. The rider turned out to be Jiang Wei, on whose face an expression near to panic appeared when he saw the Prime Minister coughing into his handkerchief, on hands and knees in the grass.

"Prime Minister!" he cried, dismounting and rushing forward.

"What's happened?" Zhuge Liang croaked out, between coughs. "Anything urgent?"

"You were gone so long, we started to worry about you. A soldier was arrested for assaulting one of the peasants. He killed a man, and raped his daughter."

Zhuge Liang's brow knit. He rose, sliding his handkerchief into his sleeve and frowning deeply. "The soldiers have strict orders not to harm the peasants. If attacks like these are permitted, we will lose the people's trust."

"He is being held, awaiting your judgment," said Jiang Wei.

"To make an attack on the commoners… that is directly counter to our late lord's wishes. Put him to death!"

"Yes, Your Excellency." Jiang Wei paused, not so much because of the order itself, as because of the tone in which it was issued. Zhuge Liang had spoken with a cold venom unlike his usual detached manner. The young man glanced over his mentor's face. He looked to me for guidance, but I had none to offer. Our defeat seemed all but certain. Avoiding his eyes, I went to collect the horses.

"… Prime Minister, is anything wrong?" Jiang Wei ventured hesitantly.

Zhuge Liang did not answer him. He only sighed, and turned away.

After a moment, the young warrior retreated to relay the Prime Minister's orders. I brought Zhuge Liang's horse.

"My dear, you should rest," I said to him, helping him onto the mount. "You are overworked and tired. How can you think clearly under such conditions?"

He made a noncommittal sound. I saw him withdraw his handkerchief, anticipating another cough perhaps, but then he only shook his head, as though to clear it of a faint buzzing, and urged his horse along the trail back to camp.

(AN: I'm not satisfied with this chapter, but it's not the focus of my story anyway... If I overcome my laziness I'll revise it.)