V: The Inconvenience of Indecision
Lu Xun stumbled in the general direction of the riverbank, unsure where he had left his boat, but caring only that he was moving away from the room that contained Liu Bei. He was out of earshot of the clamor that had erupted behind him as he'd left, but all the same, he could feel the Shu emperor's awful shock, disbelief…and disgust at the prospect of a tomboy becoming the next Empress of Shu. It made his skin crawl.
Without warning, a hand descended upon his shoulder from behind. He shrieked.
"Crying out is entirely unnecessary," a smooth voice admonished. "I won't hurt you."
Lu Xun wrested free of the talon-like grasp of his attacker, and turned around. A wall of white feathers blanketed his vision.
He shrieked again.
Zhuge Liang sighed and moved his fan out of the way.
"You've become a lot more high-strung since I last saw you, lad," he said mournfully, grasping Lu Xun by the forearm and fanning him vigorously. "Not to mention, a few inches taller."
Lu Xun freed himself once more with a quick jerk, hastily smoothed his hair (which Zhuge Liang's fan had upset), straightened his headdress (which had come askew in his haste to escape the strategist's clutches), and picked up the warm parcel of honey cakes (which he had dropped). Then, at last, he fully realized just whom it was he had run into. A molten river of terror coursed through his stomach.
"Wh-what do you want? Where did you come from? And why are you fanning me?"
"So many questions!" exclaimed Zhuge Liang, eyeing Lu Xun with an unnervingly keen and probing gaze. "I suppose I can only answer them one at a time. First of all, I simply wanted to have a look at you, no more. My ability to appear at critical moments, of course, is a closely guarded secret – as well as the reason why my liege has not dismissed me yet, in spite of his seemingly perpetual irritation at everything I do. And in reply to your final question, there is no need to be alarmed about my fan. I'm only trying to calm you down with some fresh air."
"Isn't that thing supposed to – you know – shoot ice and energy fields, and whatnot?" Lu Xun stuttered, staring at massive griffin feathers with a mixture of dread and vague terror.
Zhuge Liang raised a fine eyebrow.
"Only on the battlefield, and even then, only at people I don't like. But I like you – very much, in fact. You're very effusive – in a good way, unlike your artistic but pretentious mentor Zhou Yu. And you're refreshingly sincere. Too sincere, in fact."
Lu Xun glared at the hem of Zhuge Liang's robes. A slow heat spread over his cheeks. Was Zhuge Liang insulting him?
"Whatever it is you want with me, hurry up," he snapped, hating his job of Ambassador General more and more by the moment. "I'm in a rush to get home."
"Understood," said Zhuge Liang. "I just want you to answer one question. It concerns the very generous proposal your liege has offered us."
Lu Xun's mouth fell open.
"You were listening in on us?"
"Naturally," replied the strategist, fanning himself, his voice containing not a hint of embarrassment or awkwardness.
"But – but – " Lu Xun spluttered, apoplectic with fury and mortification – "it was supposed to be a private audience!"
"I'm Lord Liu Bei's strategist," said Zhuge Liang, as if the fact alone were a wholly sufficient explanation. "It's my job to make sure he isn't being conned, ambushed, betrayed, or done in by trickery. I'm simply earning my pay."
"Why, you – "
"My goodness, dear boy, calm down. Whatever that Wei fashionista Zhang He might think, anger doesn't make anyone look any better."
Swoop went the fan, and the tassel of Lu Xun's circlet performed a little dance in the cold breeze.
"Ask away!" shouted Lu Xun – by now his ears were flushing too, and Zhuge Liang's solicitous fanning was anything but calming. "Sun Jian wants me home by nightfall!"
"Very well," said Zhuge Liang. "My question is…"
He trailed off, leaving a very tortuous silence.
"Just say it already, damn it!"
Zhuge Liang allowed himself a little smile. It was a devilish pleasure of his, making others squirm. Of course, Yue Ying would have shredded him if she were here. Being the most frequent recipient of Zhuge Liang's verbal torture, she would have empathized with Lu Xun.
"I just wanted to know: is there anything you want to tell me?"
The question fell upon Lu Xun like a pile of hay. He stared blankly, not knowing what to say – or indeed, not knowing what to make of Zhuge Liang's words.
"I don't know what you mean," he stammered.
Again Zhuge Liang arched an eyebrow. "Of course you know what I mean."
"I – I'm just a messenger!" said Lu Xun, fumbling for words. "I came here and said what I was supposed to say. No more, no less. I wouldn't have anything else to say to you."
"But is there anything you want to tell me?" Zhuge Liang repeated, his insistence now so overt and forceful that it bordered on rudeness.
The Sleeping Dragon's words rang hollowly in Lu Xun's ears, devoid of any intelligible meaning. Pinned on the spot by Zhuge Liang's sharp gaze, with no feasible method of escape in sight, Lu Xun's world dissolved into a confusion of sensations as his heartbeat escalated and his breathing quickened into a pant. Briefly, he heard only the pounding of his own blood, and the expansive sigh of the river behind him. Overhead, a few seagulls traced circles in the sky, their airborne forms winking in the sunlight.
Then suddenly, it dawned upon him – or rather, crashed upon him.
Zhuge Liang knew. Somehow, in Lu Xun's own words, or the way he had delivered the proposal, the strategist had sensed the hesitation, the clash of conscience against duty, the will-I-or-won't-I-tell-Liu-Bei-about-the-extra-dimension-to-this-proposal edge in his otherwise diplomatic voice. He knew there had to be a catch – a gigantic one at that – to the plan, for Zhou Yu to be willing to barter his beloved princess away to a man who had snubbed the Sun family over and over.
Overcome with sudden emotion, Lu Xun lowered his gaze back to the man standing before him and understood in that instant why Zhou Yu hated the man so much – why he envied him so much.
"Well?" pressed Zhuge Liang.
Thoughts and images flitted like flickers of light through Lu Xun's head. Briefly, he was back in the gardens of the Wu palace, shrouded in darkness, sitting with the Sun brothers and his mentor.
Should I tell him? Should I warn him of the trap and make sure that Zhou Yu loses the bet?
He saw, as if through a dreamlike haze, Sun Quan's bitter face, framed in the dying glow of a burning match, the crackling flame of Zhou Yu's rising musou, and Sun Ce's expression of horror as Zhou Yu read out the terms of the bet. He felt the cold breath of the Chang Jiang behind him, traveling up his back, breathing down his neck like an immense predatory dragon. His thoughts raced like arrows.
If I tell him, I will win – guaranteed. No more "Sir," no more putting up with his condescension. I'll lead Wu in the right direction as Lord Grand Marshall and no longer tarnish our honor by scheming, picking fights with my Shu and Wei counterparts, and playing petty tricks with our neighbors…
But it wouldn't be honest. He wanted so badly – more than anything, in fact, to deflate Zhou Yu's ego by proving the cheapness of his "stratagem" – but the thought of busting the stratagem by giving its details away to its intended victim or victims riled him so much it him sick to his stomach. If Lu Xun detested anything with a passion, it was cheating. Cheating, and lying.
But wasn't he essentially lying to Liu Bei, so he could avoid cheating in his game with Zhou Yu?
Would he lie to Zhuge Liang now?
Growing lightheaded from all his convoluted reasoning, he finally saw a last vision: Sun Shang Xiang, as he had seen her just hours ago, tears running down her face, her crimson hair burning in the sun, staring into his eyes with a wild desperate look as she told him to "go out and do his job."
No. All thoughts of cheating and lying and honor aside, he, Lu Xun of Wu, had a job to do – and that was to simply relay a message from his lord. Doing any more would have been a breach of honor in his contract to the Wu family. Regardless of the importance of anything else, that alone was sacred and untouchable.
The image of his princess's lovely face fell away, leaving only the sight of a very impatient (and slightly bemused) white-clad strategist before him.
"No," said Lu Xun, finding Zhuge Liang's gaze and holding it firmly. "There is nothing I have to say to you."
For a moment Zhuge Liang stared straight back at him, his fan beating in a slow rhythm.
"Very well," he said, after an interminable silence. "That's all I wanted to ask."
Nodding tersely. Lu Xun turned around and began marching again toward his boat. A mixture of relief and faraway guilt twisted uncomfortably in him. He had most irrevocably committed himself to winning against Zhou Yu the hard and honest way – by putting faith in Zhuge Liang's ability to intuit danger. Yet, he had gone out on a diplomatic mission, and lied to his host. He did not know whether his moral triumph and his sin canceled each other out, or whether one won over the other.
He had no intention of spending one extra moment on Shu territory, but as he stepped onto the pier to which his boat was tethered, guilt at having lied so that he could play his game of pride prevailed in him, and he chanced a look backwards, at the sprawling Shu compound and the green banners floating in the breeze.
The Sleeping Dragon stood a distance away, his eyes still upon Lu Xun, the faintest of smiles creasing his face. There was a strange quality to that smile – a stealthy quality, a knowing quality.
It was then that Lu Xun realized that regardless of how he had answered Zhuge Liang's question, it wouldn't have mattered. He already knew everything.
"Frankly, sir, he is indecisive," Lu Xun said several hours later, his eyes trained on the polished jade parquet before him. "His reaction to our offer can be best described as shock."
He stood in the Throne Room of the Wu Palace – a cavernous chamber paved in jade and granite, a hundred yards long by twenty-five wide, flanked by massive pillars, and decorated luxuriously every inch over with gold leaf, elaborate carvings, and lawn-sized tapestries. A thick red carpet ran vertically down the length of the hall, terminating in a raised dais guarded by a coterie of handmaidens; and on that dais sat the chair that was the throne of the Emperor of Wu, a massive chaise of burnished gold canopied by a halo of pearl veils, peacock feathers, and red velvet trimmed in gold.
Something indeterminate and shiny rippled in the gap between the carpet and the dais – the reflection of a very stung, very angry Sun Jian leaping out of his throne.
"Shock?" he exclaimed. "At this very generous offer of an alliance? What is it that Liu Bei doesn't like about this proposal? Does he think he won't need our help fighting Wei?"
Lu Xun flinched as the angry echo of Sun Jian's voice, magnified and chilled by the monstrous proportions of the throne room, rang in his ears.
"On the contrary," he said hastily, backing away a little, "Liu Bei understands the magnitude and generosity of our proposal. Or at least, he went to great lengths to give the impression that he understood. I think he's still in denial about how generous the Sun family can be."
The room was full at the moment with generals and advisors (minus the three big conspirators, Lu Xun remarked with interest), gathered in neat files on either side of the carpet, all curious about the Shu reaction to the Big Proposal. At Lu Xun's words all fifty of them turned their heads in a crimson ripple toward Sun Jian in anticipation.
The man in question heaved a sigh and threw himself back into his seat.
"Did Zhuge Liang have anything to say about this?" he asked.
Lu Xun stalled, unsure how really to describe – or whether he ought to describe at all – his brief encounter with the strategist.
"Nothing…of significance," he said slowly.
"Humph," grunted Sun Jian.
Briefly, the Wu Emperor pinned Lu Xun – who seemed so small and fragile, kneeling on the carpet below him - with his keen gaze. Given Lu Xun's evasive response, and knowing Zhuge Liang's reputation, it was a fair bet that Lu Xun had witnessed a reaction on the strategist's face, but was unable to divine its meaning. But Sun Jian wasn't in the mood to pry any further. Lu Xun looked about ready to keel over on the floor, anyway.
"Very well. Dismissed."
"Sire," said Lu Xun respectfully, before turning around and bolting with as much celerity as could be considered proper from the throne room.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Tearing the heavy headdress off his head, Lu Xun stalked through the mazelike corridors of the Palace's East Wing, toward his quarters. Today had been one of the more unpleasant days of his life – for a variety of reasons – and he most certainly would not have relived it even if offered inexhaustible wealth or eternal life. At the end of his tether, ready to collapse from exhaustion, all he wanted to do was to get to his room, lie down, and go to sleep – perhaps read a little more, at the very most.
"So how did things go?" a smooth voice drawled.
Lu Xun jumped and stopped dead in his tracks. At the very end of the hall – at the doorway to his room, in fact - Zhou Yu leaned, stretching languidly like a cat.
A flash of irritation at the question soon succeeded his brief jolt of surprise. Of course Zhou Yu already knew everything about the state of the proposal, and about Liu Bei's reaction – it was apparent in how he leaned so nonchalantly against Lu Xun's door, and how casually and superciliously he had asked the question.
"Not well at all," he snapped, just to rub it into Zhou Yu's face. "He might not even come."
"Oh, he will," said Zhou Yu lightly, examining his fine, long fingers as Lu Xun drew close. "Liu Bei, as much of an opportunist as he is, is not a man to back down from an unpleasant challenge. And I'm sure Zhuge Liang will convince him that it is the right thing to do, if his own courage fails him."
"Zhuge Liang probably knows what you're planning," retorted Lu Xun, stopping inches away from Zhou Yu and raising his chin challengingly. "Move aside."
"'Probably' being the operative word, Xun-chan," replied Zhou Yu, also straightening up and standing squarely in the doorway. "Zhuge Liang doesn't know every single thing that goes on in the world."
"He knows enough," said Lu Xun.
Without another word, and moving swiftly enough so that the latter was taken by surprise, he forced his way past Zhou Yu and shutting the door.
The look Zhuge Liang gave him by the river had been telling enough, but all the same, a fine thread of panic began to unwind from the lining of Lu Xun's stomach. If Zhuge Liang was indeed planning to convince Liu Bei to take the offer – which wasn't entirely impossible – he would be putting Liu Bei in certain danger. Though he certainly would create a plan to counter Zhou Yu, Liang would still have to extricate the Shu emperor when Zhou Yu unleashed his plan, at the cost of picking a fight with Wu forces, and the entire alliance would crumble to hell. It all added up to a recipe for disaster. Cao Cao himself couldn't have wished for a better arrangement of events.
Throwing himself facedown onto his bed, Lu Xun wanted for the first time in his brief career as a strategist to curl up in a dark corner and die.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Thirty miles downriver, in Caisang, Liu Bei felt ready to die as well.
The Wu proposal – marriage with the warrior princess! – had thrown his entire world upside-down – but the shock factor of the proposal was nothing compared with the mortification that followed. It seemed that every one of his generals wanted to be the first to congratulate (or humiliate) him – and in their haste to get out from behind the screen, they had brought it crashing onto the table instead, nearly crushing Liu Bei in the process.
"Oh. My. God!" Yue Ying shrieked.
"Congratulations, brother!" Zhang Fei shouted.
"What a windfall!" exclaimed Huang Zhong.
"I think you'll look cute together," said Zhao Yun excitedly.
"This is your chance to – uh – correct your bachelor situation, my lord!" said Pang Tong.
Liu Bei seized a random plate, wanting to hurl it across the room –but at the last moment he thought that it would look very un-lordly to throw plates. So he settled for the next best alternative: giving orders.
"Everyone, shut up!" he bellowed, cutting off his generals in mid-clamor. "Where the hell is my strategist?"
An entire room of frozen, suddenly silenced generals stared at him, taken aback by his uncharacteristic outburst. Gingerly, Yue Ying raised a finger and jabbed it at the door.
Liu Bei flung himself out of the room.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Half an hour of desperate searching later (and almost ready to throttle the first living thing he encountered), he found Zhuge Liang atop a bridge in one of the gardens, contemplating the koi and his own white reflection below him.
"Liang!" he cried, hastening toward him. "What do I do? What do I do?"
Zhuge Liang looked up at Liu Bei, as placidly as if the Shu liege had merely strolled across his path and bid him good day.
"Hmm? I'm not sure what you're referring to, my lord."
Liu Bei fought the urge to shove Zhuge Liang bodily off the bridge.
"The proposal, what else? I don't know what to do. You're my strategist, so naturally, I'm coming to you for help."
Zhuge Liang frowned and, instead of answering immediately, stared at the masses of lotus pads and flowers that carpeted the pond, as if the answer to Liu Bei's question lay in their quiet forms. For some time the only movement in the courtyard was the gentle rise and fall of Liang's fan.
Liu Bei trembled, waiting with bated breath.
"Well?" he said hoarsely.
Zhuge Liang cleared his throat.
"You do what they ask, of course," he said finally. "Go to Wu and marry the Princess."
Liu Bei's jaw dropped.
"You can't be serious, Liang!"
"I am serious," the strategist countered, and to emphasize his point, he gave Liu Bei a very somber, very earnest glare. "They certainly are. It's a good deal – you'll be getting a hell of a wife, from what I've heard and seen of Miss Shang Xiang. And you'll have a great time. If anyone in the land knows how to party, it's Prince Sun Ce."
"That's not the kind of advice I wanted to hear!" cried Liu Bei.
"You want me to tell you not to go?" said Zhuge Liang, his maddeningly calm tone infuriating Liu Bei all the more. "Is it because you're afraid of taking this big leap, and you know you should take this offer, but you still don't want to and you want me to convince you it's all right to chicken out?"
Liu Bei felt like exploding. He was trapped between the blade of a knife and a hard place, and his strategist was calling him a chicken for staying put so that his throat wouldn't get slashed?
"I'm not looking for an excuse!" he shouted. "And I am not a chicken!"
"Of course you aren't. But certainly you're correct to say I'm your strategist. I thus have an obligation to give you honest, helpful advice."
"And your honest helpful advice is for me to march into Wu and marry into a family that hates my guts?"
"Sun Jian does not hate you," said Zhuge Liang. "Why would he give his only daughter to a man he hates?"
"So his kingdom could stand a chance against Wei?"
"Good answer. But he doesn't hate you." He turned his keen, green gaze to Liu Bei. "Wasn't he your old friend?"
"That was a long, long time ago," muttered the Shu Emperor.
Consumed by weariness, fighting tears of frustration, he sank down upon the edge of the bridge and dipped his toes into the water, frightening away the koi and ruining Zhuge Liang's reflection.
"Honestly, my lord," sighed Zhuge Liang, hiking up his robes and sitting down next to him, "what is it that bothers you about this proposal?"
Liu Bei shook his head slowly.
"I can't put my finger on it, Liang."
"Is it the thought of marrying again after so many years of bachelorhood?"
Liu Bei thought briefly of his two former wives, Gan and Mi. For a moment he felt a pang of sadness. He shook his head.
"No."
"Is it the thought of marrying a complete stranger?"
"Not even that," muttered Liu Bei. "I guess – I think it must be that this proposal sounds too good to be true."
Zhuge Liang lifted an eyebrow. "Elaborate."
Liu Bei sighed.
"I haven't been a gentleman, I admit it. I keep Jingzhou beyond the length of my contract, and I keep breaking treaty after treaty meant to return it to its rightful owner…"
A lengthy pause followed.
"And yet, Sun Jian still wants an alliance with us. A blood alliance."
For a moment, birdsong drifted across the tranquil garden – a sweet and ethereal sound, followed by a light gust of wind that set the lotus pads nodding, and ruffled the fiery boughs of the ornamental maples bordering the pond. It would all have seemed and felt so beautiful, thought Liu Bei miserably, if not for the current topic of discussion.
"You forget two things, my lord," said Zhuge Liang. "One: that without Jing, you'd be landless – and we cannot have that. And two: that Wu really, simply can't fight Cao Cao on its own."
"But there's something afoot about this 'alliance'," Liu Bei said darkly. "Something sinister. I have a feeling…"
He trailed off, wondering if what he wanted to say next would sound too melodramatic.
"Go on," egged Zhuge Liang.
Liu Bei took a deep breath and tried to deliver the rest of his sentence as nonchalantly as possible. "I have a feeling they are out to get me."
Zhuge Liang frowned. "Who is 'they'?"
"Zhou Yu."
"Well." Zhuge Liang fanned himself and splashed his feet, also making ripples in the water with his toes. "Last time I checked, there weren't multiple Zhou Yus serving in Sun Jian's cabinet. And even then, they wouldn't have the combined vision or the patience to plan past the next week."
"I don't think you should discount Zhou Yu like that," Liu Bei replied hastily, feeling growing dread in spite of Zhuge Liang's indomitable confidence. "He planned the fire attack at Chibi – "
"With my help," corrected Zhuge Liang testily.
Liu Bei tried to look away, but Zhuge Liang grabbed his shoulder and twisted him around, forcing the Emperor to make eye contact with him.
"Listen. Zhou Yu is book-smart, but a fool when it comes to practicality. He's got style but no subtlety. An invitation to get married in Wu territory? It screams 'I want you dead or behind bars.'"
Liu Bei pried Zhuge Liang's hand off his shoulder.
"Thank you very much, Liang," he said, thoroughly sick. "I feel much better about my chances of survival."
"But there is really nothing to fear from him. March into Wu with your head held high. Marry your princess and sweep her off her feet. She'll fall for you and then you'll have one more officer to add to your ranks."
"I don't want to make her turn against her family," moaned Liu Bei, feeling even sicker.
"You don't have to – at least, not yet. But just go. Trust me. It'll be fine."
Liu Bei nodded weakly, momentarily consoled by those words. But some uncomfortable awareness stirred in him like a waking beast, and he looked around at Zhuge Liang, his dark eyes narrowing.
"There is something," he said slowly, "that you're not telling me."
Zhuge Liang's right eyebrow performed a quick dance.
"Me, not telling you everything? That's quite an accusation. I'm your strategist. I've told you the long and short of the story."
"What is it that you're not telling me?" demanded Liu Bei.
"Just go. Nothing will happen – "
"For the love of the Han Dynasty, just tell me!"
"It is safe, my lord," Liang repeated, thoroughly sick with exasperation by now. "Have I ever consciously sent you into a dangerous situation before?"
Liu Bei thought about it.
"Yes," he replied at length. "But only," he added hastily, upon seeing Liang's mouth drop in horrified anger, "when you had a spectacular save already planned."
"Then what makes you think this is any different?" said the strategist. "Is there risk involved in this trip? Of course. Will Zhou Yu make multiple assassination attempts upon you? You can bet your life on it – no pun intended, of course. But am I going to let you die there? Certainly not."
Though Liu Bei conceded to himself that Zhuge Liang had a point – and that there was no way for him to win this argument, either - he still clung onto his original hope: the wish beyond the pale of sanity that the entire marriage proposal, Lu Xun's visit included, had been a massive practical joke.
"Damn it," he groaned, kicking up a fountain of water. "Damn it all."