Suspended within the darkness of his Natal Palace, Zian sat with legs crossed and eyes closed as he gathered his thoughts for the trials ahead. The Society Headquarters stood but a few hours away and as Young Patriarch and future leader of the Situ Clan, Zian would be expected to return to the Clan’s ancestral home to greet the Patriarch and honour the ancestors. A small, inconsequential tradition meant to display his familial piety and fealty to the current Clan Leader, Situ Rang Min. It was an exhibition of solidarity, full of pageantry and spectacle for the world to see. Like the painted whore smiling prettily for her customer, it was vital for Zian’s survival to fake gratification throughout this short, yet furious bout of sodomy. How he hungered to denounce Rang Min and see justice done, but doing so would be foolish to the extreme. Not only was he lacking proof of Rang Min’s involvement, Zian was worth far less than Rang Min in both martial and political value. Even Uncle Yang might not be Rang Min’s match in single combat and definitely not his political opponent. Any head-on confrontation would see Zian quietly killed for the sake of harmony, and the whole thing covered up as an accident. What Zian needed most was time, time to grow and amass power enough to rival Rang Min and seek vengeance for his father.

Zian could be patient. For a gentleman to take revenge, ten years is not too long.

“So sour-faced even during meditation. You frown too much, young patriarch Zian.” The sultry, dulcet tones of his concubine sent a tingle down his spine, fear and arousal so intertwined it was impossible to differentiate between the two. “Your Fei-Fei will soon wilt from boredom, what say you open your eyes and we have a little chat?”

Unable to refuse, Zian cleared his throat and nodded in agreement as he drank in the sight of her. A kingdom-toppling beauty, she beguiled him with her charms and left him unable to resist her temptations, a puppet dancing to her strings. There were no ceremonies or oaths needed for a man to take a concubine, so after their intimidating introduction, Jing Fei played her part as obedient and willing partner with great enthusiasm. Outwardly a prim and coy young lady of noble standing, she was shamelessly aggressive once they were alone, doing her best to make good on her promise to bear Zian’s mother a grandchild. The past week of travel was a blur of sex and sensuality as Zian gave in to his animalistic urges and used all he’d learned to please her, thirsting for her touch at every opportunity whether it be in his carriage or bedroll. This morning, she denied him for the first time ever, which only made him need her more. “I can think of better things to do besides chat.”

“Mother above, have some self-control.” Rolling her beautiful brown eyes from across the carriage, her undisguised scorn only fanned the flames of his ardour. “We can't show up with tousled hair and wrinkled clothes. I suppose I should take it as a compliment,” she said, adjusting her hair so her perfectly straight bangs framed her lovely face. “I didn’t think the Northern Province’s premier pleasure-seeking playboy would succumb to my charms so easily. Why, you make young magistrate Fung seem like a paragon of virtue by comparison.”

Zian hated being compared to Fung and she knew it. Growling beneath his breath, he answered, “So you would rather I treat you as he did? I heard he slapped you across the face during the Contest’s awards ceremony. Is that what you enjoy?”

“I can’t say I enjoyed it, but it was one of my proudest moments.” The flash in her eyes said differently, but a gentleman does not argue with a lady. It’s a lesson in futility, there’s no winning even when you’re right.

Especially when you’re right.

“You’re proud he humiliated you in front of the entire province?”

Jing Fei shrugged, a work of art in motion. “One does what needs to be done, beloved.” There was an edge to his appellation which told him she saw their relationship as such. A brave stance for a woman in her position to take, one deserving of admiration. “Winning the championship was more burden than boon, especially considering young magistrate Fung’s... outstanding performance.”

Outstanding was understating it. In the last segment of the Contest, Fung fought and won fifteen duels in three rounds, making him the only contestant from Shen Huo to take the stage. Then, during the finals against the Seven Star Sect, Fung took an arm from each of his opponents, spitting on the Society’s honour and daring them to seek vengeance once he left for home. Even Zian had to admit Fung had courage in spades, though he was sorely disappointed by his level of skill. No matter how often he lost, Fung refused to display the swordsmanship he used to achieve victory in the contests, intent on mastering the spear at all costs. Now, having formed his Natal Palace and added his name to Empire’s Roll of Experts, there were whispers of Situ Jia Zian’s star fading into obscurity as a new generation of geniuses took the stage.

Hmph. Gossiping fools. With Jukai helping him every step of the way, Zian formed his Natal Palace weeks before Fung, keeping his success a secret so he could renounce his title as young patriarch without too many arguments. Fung was nothing compared to Zian, and their sparring record proved it. In fact, perhaps he should schedule a private spar with young magistrate Fung and show Jing Fei just how strong her husband really was.

Irked by his irrational need to prove himself better than Jing Fei’s former betrothed, Zian brought his mind back to the present. Impressive as Fung’s victory was, it drove a wedge between the Society and Shen Huo’s delegates even though Jing Fei and the others never took the stage. But why was she proud of being hit? It took longer than Zian cared to admit before he reached an answer, distracted by Jing Fei’s disapproving glare and thick, luscious lips pursed in a gorgeous pout. “You manipulated him into striking you to garner sympathy and lessen the shame of the inevitable dissolution of your betrothal.”

“Oh how wonderful, Mother-in-law was right. You aren’t stupid, only slow.” Were it anyone else, Zian would have cut her throat and left her body for the crows, but Jing Fei’s attempts to anger him only served to ignite his passions. Rationally, he understood she was testing her limits and he should rebuke her as his dignity demanded, but so long as her abuse remained private, Zian was willing to endure it. Eyeing his non-reaction with suspicion, Jing Fei continued explaining. “Mother’s failed bid for Shen Huo’s Magisterial Office left our family in dire straits and all but ended my betrothal to young magistrate Fung. Making an enemy of the Society would have ruined us, so I put on a little show for all to see.” Fluttering her lashes, she feigned innocence and added, “I had so many eligible young bachelor’s promising to defend my honour, and thus, my pride. Will you also defend my pride, dear beloved?”

And now she sought to use him against her enemies. He reminded himself how wily and dangerous this woman was, willing to do anything to further her cause. “Then why settle for being my concubine? Your children can never inherit my family’s titles whether it be Patriarch or Magistrate. All they’ll have to their name is the Ong Family estate, assuming it isn’t misappropriated by my legitimate heirs.”

Showing true anger for the first time, Jing Fei’s eyes sparkled with malice as she smiled sweetly. “Should your legal wife or the fruits of her loins set their sights on what does not belong to them, I shall endeavour to correct them. Gently, of course. I’ll leave you one legitimate heir, on my honour.”

Shuddering in fear or ecstasy, Zian made a note to warn his future wife to never cross his concubine. Despite her family’s lack of military or political power, Ong Jing Fei was a woman to be feared, a ruthless, venomous witch who could not be controlled.

After letting her ominous statement hang for some time, Jing Fei switched topics. “Tell me, what should I expect at the Society?”

“Well, we’ll be making a trip to my clan’s ancestral home, where-”

Holding her finger up for silence, Jing Fei’s disappointed sigh pierced through him like a knife to the heart. “My mistake,” she admitted, shaking her head. “I chose my words poorly. Tell me what to expect politically. Tell me of the enemies you’ve made, allies you can count on, and where you fit into the overall situation.”

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Ah, that made more sense. “Didn’t mother tell you anything?”

“She told me everything.” Jing Fei’s tone was that of a teacher to a student, which Zian found highly erotic. Who was he kidding, she could make eating live rats look seductive. “But I want to know how you view your circumstances so I can explain how wrong you are.”

Both maddening and alluring. Part of him wanted to push her down and dominate her, but he wasn’t sure if it was to bend her to his will or to suffer the consequences of her wrath. Taking a deep breath, he calmed his temper and sorted his thoughts. “I am the young patriarch, yet I have few true allies within the Clan. My many detractors paint me as an outsider with weak ties to the Clan and would see me ousted from my position and replaced by someone more... dutiful and loyal.”

“Are they wrong? Is Situ Jia Zian a wayward son of Clan and Society?”

“Of course not.” No sense telling her about his plans. Either she already knew or mother didn’t think she was trustworthy enough to know. Oh how he wished mother had taken the time to explain her plans, he never could keep all the subterfuge and deception straight. “I’ve served Clan and Society well, bringing them much honour and glory as the number one talent in the north.”

“Former number one talent, beloved. The pint-sized savage holds that title now.”

At one time, the reminder would have irked him but he merely shrugged and said, “Not for long.” In a few short weeks, he expected Sumila would steal Rain’s title unless she was named number one talent in the Empire.

Mistaking his meaning, she laughed and said, “Oh my silly beloved, you’re too old to snatch the title back but I like your ambition.” Feigning pity, she asked, “You’ve no friends at all?”

“None,” Zian replied. “Only associates or rivals.”

“How wretched, the great Situ Jia Zian without a friend in the world.”

She was clearly trying to say something, but Zian’s patience was at an end. “Enough of your games, out with it woman.”

With a lazy tilt of her head, Jing Fei smiled and shrugged. “With all the time you spent with Falling Rain, young magistrate Fung, and young patriarch BoShui, I thought you might consider them more than mere rivals. The rest of the province certainly does. Why else would you spar with them everyday? You’re Situ Jia Zian, you could summon dozens of better sparring partners with a snap of your fingers. Why help your greatest rivals improve?”

“Know thyself and know thy enemy. Our sparring was mutually beneficial, but I’m confident I learned more from it than they did.” Not true at all, but he would die before admitting he went there every day hoping see Sumila’s freckled, scowling face. He hated himself for being so worthless and weak-willed for lusting after another man’s woman, but he couldn’t stop dreaming about her tangled, dishevelled locks or her forceful, unstoppable fury. Jing Fei was more beautiful and almost as compelling, but she was so dainty and fragile. Zian dreamed of standing with an equal at his side, in both status and strength. Thus far, only Sumila fit the description.

Damn Rain and his unbelievable luck. Not only was he betrothed to Sumila, she wasn’t even his only wife...

Realizing he’d been quiet for too long, Zian discovered Jing Fei studying him in silence. “What?”

“...Nothing.” Casually switching seats to curl up beside him, Jing Fei hugged his arm to her chest. Delightful as the sensation was, Zian licked his dry lips and marvelled at her sharp instincts. It’s as if she peered into his mind and saw him thinking of another woman. Resting against his shoulder, she said, “Well then, my beloved has no friends and many enemies, so how is he still successor to the clan? One man cannot be an island. To lead the Situ Clan, you will need the support of your peers and elders. What do you think about asking the Patriarch to take you under his wing? He’s chosen you as his successor, so he must see something in you.”

Keeping a neutral expression, Zian feigned indifference and said, “I care nothing for politics. The Patriarch is still young, not even eighty years old this year, with plenty of time to reconsider who will succeed him.” Best if no one knew Zian had realized their ploy, staking him out like a sacrificial goat to lure the tigers from their mountains. He’d considered doing as Jing Fei suggested, but he’d shown no interest in politics, so a sudden display of ambition might see him in an early grave. Even learning he’d formed his Natal Palace would put Rang Min on alert, so to keep his enemies in the dark, Zian intended to keep playing the role of martial fanatic and serial womanizer.

“Heavens. There’s nothing worse than a brilliant man who lacks ambition, a grave misuse of Heaven-sent talents.” Falling silent, she Sent, “You’re a terrible liar beloved. Your cheek twitches, your heart beat jumps, your voice grows stilted and slow. Tell me, what grievance do you have with Rang Min?”

Heaven’s above, how many younger hidden talents were out there? Jing Fei was the same age as Sumila and Rain, yet she’d already learned how to Send, not to mention her deductive skills. Ridiculous. “I don’t know what you mean,” he Sent back, knowing one of Mother’s favourite ploys was to pretend she knew everything and wait for Zian to incriminate himself.

“You’re not fooling anyone. Every time you call him ‘Patriarch’, you act as though you’ve swallowed a lemon, and you barely blinked when I called him by name, a grave offence. The Patriarch is never to be named for he is father to all members of the Situ Clan, or is that not what your people preach?”

Dammit. “Enough of your bothersome questions woman. Begone.”

“Oh?” Sitting up, Jing Fei gave him a pointed look and Sent, “Well... perhaps I’ll bother someone else with my questions then. I’m sure someone can explain why my beloved doesn’t show his Patriarch the proper respect.”

Grabbing her by the arm, Zian pinned her against the carriage seat, his free hand clamping over her mouth to keep her silent. Complying without a hint of struggle, Jing Fei sat and watched with muted amusement while Zian’s breath grew ragged and short, wondering how handle this prickly situation. It’s as if their roles were reversed, he at the mercy of her strength instead of the other way around. Raising a single eyebrow in question, Jing Fei Sent, “Well? What do you intend to do? Silence me? Threaten me? Beat me into submission? Come now, enough dithering about, are you a man or mouse?”

At a complete loss, Zian asked, “What game are you playing woman? What is your goal?”

“I am but a humble concubine,” she answered, her voice filled with bitter disdain. “My life is tied to your own, my death to follow yours, my happiness wholly dependent on your mood. What goal can I have but to support you to the best of my ability?”

Blinking in confusion, Zian slowly released her, keeping a hand on her wrist while trusting she wouldn’t call for her guards. Not that it mattered if she did, her guards were given to her by him. It never occurred to think how this radiant, brilliant, accomplished woman felt about becoming his concubine, a position little better than a slave in the eyes of the law. She was so fearless and bold, he thought... “Why did you agree to become my concubine?”

“Like I said, my family was in dire straits.” Shrugging, she looked away, sighed, and Sent, “We gambled everything on becoming a Magisterial family and would have if not for the Bekhai. I don’t know why they chose my Ong family to make an example of, but make an example they did. In one masterful stroke, they annihilated the entire DuGu family and ended DuGu Tian Sha’s family line, a hero’s legacy ending in two generations. They showed the province what would happen to those who aided my family, and after Rain’s ‘glorious’ victory over the Society youths, Mother-in-law was the only one willing to shelter my family. I held out hoping to become your legal wife, or even a second or third, but she wouldn’t have it and I have my little brothers to think of. I’m too dangerous, she said, and she’s right. I’d kill you in a heartbeat if it could help my family.”

Mother in Heaven, why was this making him want her more? She just admitted she’d kill you, yet all you can think of is how beautiful and delicate she looks. There was something deeply, deeply wrong with him, but introspection would have to wait. He didn't even know she had brothers, he truly didn't know this woman at all. Scratching his nose, he Sent, “If it makes things any better, knowing Rain and the Bekhai, I sincerely doubt they planned to make an example of you.”

“No,” Jing Fei replied, her tone terse and glare murderous. “it does not make things better.”

Awkward. Removing his hand to give her space, Zian shrank into a corner and stayed there, doing his best to remain inconspicuous. At least the Bekhai had sense enough not to set foot inside the Society, boarding their ships northwest of the Headquarters to avoid tensions. After a moments pause, Jing Fei snorted in contempt, slid over, and linked arms with him, resting her dainty head against his shoulder once more. “Mother above, I thought you were a dragon among men. You certainly act like one between the sheets, so why are you so timid now?”

This woman... One minute she would be sweet and charming and the next she’d turn into an antagonistic shrew. He wasn’t sure which one was the real Ong Jing Fei, but truth be told, he didn’t care. He was enamoured with both sides of her, caught in her trap the moment her poison coursed through his body and he fell into her embrace. She didn’t love him, he was merely an ends to a means, a shield to shelter her family, but what she failed to realize was he was now part of that family. Perhaps in time, this could turn to love, but for now, this was a coupling of convenience.

Zian could be patient. For a gentleman to find love, ten years is not too long

Taking her hand in his own, Zian told her everything about his father and his plans for vengeance. “I have no proof, but Rang Min benefited the most from my father’s death, so he is suspect. What do you think I should do, beloved?”

“Hmm,” she murmured, studying his face for a long moment. “So hopeless.”

What?

“It’s impossible for you to hide your enmity,” she explained through Sending. “You’re a terrible liar. So, since you can’t play nice with the man suspected of killing your father, then you might as well not bother. Do what you must, play the part of proper young patriarch, but no need to hide your suspicions.”

... “But I told you, he’ll kill me if he thinks I've turned on him.”

“Not if we make you indispensable.” Her eyes shone with expectation, coming alive at the prospect of work to be done. “Let him suspect, he won't act immediately. In the meantime, we must find out who Rang Min intends to replace you with. His son GuLong is the obvious candidate, but who else? Best to kill them all at once, it’s harder to poison someone who is on their guard. Treat me coldly in public, we’ll make a big scene of it later. That’ll make it easier for the handmaidens and other concubines to sympathize with me. They always know more than they should and have less sense than needed, which makes them a font of information. Also...”

Watching her ambitious plans take form, Zian shuddered with excitement.

Or fear.

He still couldn’t tell.

Chapter Meme