The soldiers were on the roads, dealing with the assailants, rescuing and saving people. Long before entering the city, at the sight of the heavy smoke behind the gates, the general had already dispatched his troops and given orders. The men who were hoping to come and relax, take some leisure time with the identities of heroes found themselves whipping their horses faster, their duties calling for them again before they even had the time to breathe.
The blazing places were being evacuated. There were no fixed locations where the people were deported, so long as they were out of danger they were even left on the roads. Those who couldn’t move or needed medical care were amassed in various areas, physicians being over occupied with them, not taking a breath of respite.
While Ru Shan Yong had dashed inside the burning residence himself, Feng Xi had already spotted and cleaned a place to receive them. Her feet had moved in instinct and now all she could do was wait. The explosion that followed shortly after had her whipped her head towards the residence, her heart in her throat. Oh God, he had left his wife to her as the chief of her guards, what did she do? Her heart was beating fast as she was praying for them to still be alive, ready to bolt any second in there herself too...
And the moment she was quite ready to go, she saw the general come out running, his unconscious wife in his hands, shouting for a physician. Although his men were already pulling at another physician for him, Feng Xi called out for the general to come to her, she had already prepared after all.
She looked, though, as he ran into a room, another physician in tow. Had he not heard her or did he deliberately ignore her, at that moment, she didn’t know. She hoped it to be the former.
***
His jaws were taut, his form firm. He stood still, as the physician was examining his wife, she had slight burns on her arms, feet and her hair too got damaged a bit. That aside, he couldn't see more and hope it to be all.
One of his men came running, respectfully staying outside, his eyes looking at the floor, he reported the overall situation going on. Ru Shan Yong passed some instructions, looked at the unconscious person one more time before going out. Whether he wanted to or not, he couldn’t stay for the situation hadn’t calmed down yet.
Feng Xi was outside, not far away, seemingly wanting to go in but hesitating. She had a hand on her chest with a worried expression on.
“I…” she tried to talk but could quite get passed after that word. She really didn’t know what to say. It was the first time that this person was so unwelcoming. Based on their interactions through all these past months, they could now be considered a bit more than just a general and one of his advisor, they were friends. But at this very moment, the look he had on wasn't like one acknowledging a companion. She could be a stranger that it wouldn't be different. He seemed so unapproachable and cold, his body emitting an aura of... war. This was actually the famous general Ru. And Feng Xi found that even in their first meeting, she had never felt this pressure for since the first time there had been a twinkling of admiration in him towards her.
But not now.
Collecting her bearing and before he passed her, she asked,
“… Can... Can I check on her too?” She was more knowledgeable on poison dealings but she still wanted to check, if only to let her own worries calm down.
The general’s jaw clenched, he kept on walking, never opening his mouth. And even though Feng Xi’s heart broke and she felt like crying, she clenched her teeth and clung to that one truth, that he didn’t say 'no'. Had he really not wanted her there, he would have.
***
Once the situation was stabilized, the fires put out and everything was in control again, the first place Ru Shan Yong directed himself was the chamber where Mu Rong An was recuperating. At his arrival, his wife had already been given new clothes, her wounds had long been taken care of.
Before going, he had already been said that her life wasn’t in danger, but seeing her pallid sleeping form still left an unsettling in his heart.
Feng Xi was sitting in the room too and had stood up once he came in.
“I’m sorry, I failed you.” She apologized in one trait fearing that should she delayed, she wouldn't have the courage to do so.
For the first time since coming in the city, Ru Shan Yong finally looked at her. The woman looked worn out and depressed far from her usual bubbly self. Her clothes still had the smell of smoke and she was full of cinder.
Ru Shan Yong wasn’t in the mood to talk. And if they should, it wouldn’t be just as her identity as Mu Rong An’s guard. He would also have to address 'Little Xi', her male persona concerning the city.
“Not here, not now.”
His voice was cold and low. He took a chair that he brought near the bed, sitting by his wife's headbed, his eyes locking on her and never leaving.
Feng Xi’s mouth quiver. Somehow, she had the impression that she lost something she would never have back. It took all her willpower to not let the tears that were beading in her eyes fall. Not one who liked exposing her weakness, she turned to the door.
“Wait,” he said suddenly without turning back, “that moment… that moment, she could have jumped but retreated instead. What happened?”
He and his men had arrived when the people trapped in the burning room where already jumping by the windows, and he did see his wife hesitated to jump only to refuse it all together in the end.
By the door, Feng Xi had halted, her hand on the doorknob. She bit her lips, really not wanting to be the bearer of bad news, sighing, she still said in the end,
“She… miscarried and wasn’t well since then.”
General Ru didn’t talk, but his eyes shut as the words sank in. A terrible weight in his chest.
Feng Xi saw him intertwined hands with Mu Rong An and that was when she felt that she couldn’t bear staying. Without waiting to be told, she turned and exited. Once outside, she leaned on the closed door, one hand on her aching chest, the other covering her wet eyes, she sobbed silently. Hot tears ran down her cheeks, her heart squeezing, aching, breaking in tiny millions of pieces. Ever so silently.
She lost something, something undeniably precious… yet she herself didn’t know what. And it was all the more heartbreaking.
Hearing footsteps coming closer, she bolted and run, jumping from a corridor's window towards the deep night, in search of solace, a place where she could lick her invisible wounds.
Ah Mei, who had been detained in a corner was glaring at the man who was still holding her wrist. She didn't know him but he was wearing a military uniform. After a moment he let go and before she ran too far, he advised,
“Don’t follow… let her be for now.”
She has stopped for one second before dashing again. This was her friend, and she needed her.
The vice general, who had been placed as the direct superior of Feng Xi for a long time now, sighed before jumping from the same window the person previously had. Even though they were friends -Ah Mei and Feng Xi-, he felt that behind that welcoming personality of Feng Xi, there was still a certain pride, a pride which wouldn't take too well to be seeing in her moment of weakness.
***
It was the morning of the next day, yet, the person on the bed was still asleep. Counting this day, it was now almost two full weeks that he barely slept and to be factual three days went by without him sleeping a wink. And that, he wasn’t counting those days before the imperial edict came.
Ru Shan Yong had declined the servants when proposed to check on the madam until she woke and had sat there all through the night himself. The only thing he did was taking a quick bath and changing clothes, fearing the smoking smell and lingering sweats would incommode her.
The chair was uncomfortable, far more than what had been his latest sleeping conditions -and for months now, he wasn’t sleeping to his contentment-, but maybe this had more to do with his mental inability to sleep rather than the chair itself. For after all, in genuine consideration, it was a good chair with a cushion, even. But it felt cold and awkward and desolate. Thus, the him who usually took mere minutes to sleep -it was precious for a military man to sleep whenever he could- couldn’t even close his eyes. He could only be stiff and his muscles with it. However, he still sat there, barely changing position, his eyes locked on the sleeping person.
Her breathing was slow and even, there were more colors on her face already. The physicians and even Feng Xi had repeatedly said that nothing was wrong. She had slight burns but if the cream was applied regularly for a time it wouldn’t be obvious. Only her hair shortened a little. Ru Shan Yong passed his hand in her silk like hair and wondered a bit if she would be angry about that. She quite liked them after all.
The bandages were on her left arm, her left leg and both feet. How come it was he who went to the front yet she who needed the bandages?
His gaze went to her stomach and he touched it through the blanket, eyes closed, heavy thoughts that were swirling in his mind.
He hadn’t had his men reported her activities for a long time; since she asked for a truce. They had established to talk things out and he had been willing to try. Sometimes she talked too much, she quite liked to talk, only if to annoy him -and also, he suspected, because she liked the sound of her own voice very much. Always talking lengthily even if to say a simple thing. And somewhere along the days, he felt that it was how things should be. It was alright. Some days though, he wished she would stop testing his patience and let him breathe a bit.
Not now, however. Now he wished she got up and talked all the way back to the capital. He would listen... and even comment on her flower garden if he must... was willing to listen to the gossips she felt like sharing too... he wished he could hear her voice... right then, right now.
He lifted her hand up to his mouth, kissing her middle palm; an action he took conscience of when he breathed on her skin and his heated breath returned to his face. He wondered fleetingly, between he and she, who started it for the first time, without really dwelling on that; Intertwining his hand with hers, he thought they fit quite well.
There was still a longing in him. An absence... a missing thing that he yearned very much, that he couldn't quite name.
Ah, he truly wanted to hear her voice.
***
Her crooked voice some hours later let him know that he had, somehow, drifted to sleep.
She tried to talk again only to cough; he then passed to her a cup of water from the cup and jar that were in the room, helping her to sit and holding the cup for her to drink.
The water was drunk thirstily, in reflex, and she straightened up, her long hair which usually came to her thigh, spilled on her shoulders, and now was barely attaining the middle of her forearms...
She seemed kind of lost. Sometimes later when she was still in the process of differentiating between dream and reality, head tilted looking straight at him, her voice sounded again,
“You’re really back?”
Frowning a bit, he put his palm on her forehead to feel it, no sign of fever. There was a certain kind of relief then and his mind lighter he asked,
“How do you feel?”
She looked at him, it was as though she didn’t really believe. So, she stretched her hands, motioning him to come closer, which he did and his face was trapped in her hands as she touched his cheeks.
“You are alive,” she realized in a whisper and then frowned, one hand touching her own neck. Warm with pulsing veins. “And so am I…”
“…”
Her hands drifted to her sides, eyes locked together still.
“I wanted to die,” she confessed.
Ru Shan Yong froze a bit and for a lack of knowing better, he took her in his arms, embracing her small figure. She didn't react, didn't return his hug but he didn't let go, and slowly started to sooth her hair. There, her heart was beating normally, she was still warm. She was still alive.
“I almost did.”
A knot formed in his throat at her words, his arms tightened around her a bit but he didn’t talk, letting her ramble on. She needed it, it seemed.
“You’ve been long gone.”
“I am back now.”
“En,” she paused a bit; “I almost died,” she said again as though not understanding herself.
She was shaking a bit now, he could feel it. Untangling himself from her, he took her trembling hands and lightly left a kiss in the middle of her palm. “You’re alright now” he reassured. “That’s the most important.”
“…”, She was awake without really been there, yet.
She admired her hand that was still in his for a bit, her sight drifting to the bandage on her forearm.
“Your wounds… they won’t leave visible scars,” he assured.
He wasn’t one to care about scars but he knew she did. Her usual self anyway.
There was still no expression on her face and he regretted having once said to prefer expressionless people than forever smiling one. It was a terrifying sight on his wife. One he couldn't bear seeing. One he was really uncomfortable with more so than her mad tempers.
He really wanted to see her out of her lethargy.
When she didn't talk still, he asked,
“Are you hungry?”
He saw her touch her stomach, her gaze a faraway one. Gently, he placed his hand over hers, his eyes searched for hers, wishing to bring her back here with him, wherever her mind had drifted to.
“I wish I knew,” he whispered to her thinking form. “I wish I was there.”
She flinched then and hastily took her hand away from his, like his touch burned her and somehow, that gesture hurt very much.
He wasn’t there. All through these months, she was suffering, he hadn't been there. This was a fact. Her withdrawal, a condemnation.
“You’ve been told,” she whispered in an understanding, her gaze dropping to the bed, her hands clenched in one another.
He felt like taking her hands again but stopped, she would surely back away again. He just sighed then.
"I am here now."
Ever so slowly, she lifted her face to his. Whatever she was waiting for, Mu Rong An herself didn't know. What she was hoping for, that too she didn't know. But in his eyes now, he let her see something akin to compassion, a sense of dependence... he was looking at her so gently, so welcomingly and… Mu Rong An wanted no more than… to gauge out his eyes.
This so annoyingly understanding person!
Why was he so understanding, so patient, so… kind? He should have been … cruel, ruthless, unforgiving…
Instead, he had left her thinking that there could be hope. That she too, could have her own happiness, that she deserved it. But she was the villainess, wasn’t she? How could she obtain happiness!
Why then was he here? Why, if she wasn’t supposed to be happy with him, was he here?
She had wanted to control her death, to ameliorate it, if she had to die, she rather it be a swift one … yet he didn’t kill her… He even married her… and had let her hoped… dared gave her hope… Why? Why?! Why when obviously this world wanted her unhappy!
She oh so hated him at this moment.
She was suddenly so angry, so unbearably angry. An anger that could only snap at him, taking her out of her torpor.
“Don’t dare, don’t you dare…”
How could Ru Shan Yong understand her sudden madness?
“You’re happy, aren’t you?”, she was shrieking, all composure left, not a thought to her noble status, way too angry, past caring.
“Calm down, you’ll hurt yourself.”
He easily held her still, she tried debating but couldn’t.
“Shh…”
“Go away, go away. Don’t touch me.”
He tried hugging her again but she debated even more fiercely,
“Calm down, Mu Rong An, calm down.”
“You’re happy aren’t you! You won’t be having a child from someone like me." She flung her blanket at him, "Go back… Go back to your damn Li Ming Qi… Go back to that Feng Xi… I don’t care! Go. Get out!”
When she made a motion to jump out of the bed he held her by the shoulders. Both of her feet needed to heal first, she couldn't and shouldn't freely put weight on them.
"You're hurt... Mu Rong An,... it is all right. You are going to be alright."
She sure was fierce and had she been more powerful would have seriously wounded him, she tried scratching his face though, but couldn't.
"Do you really want children that much? So early?"
To be fair, Ru Shan Yong didn't place many thoughts on them. Had once thought that he wouldn't have any descendants actually; the idea of marriage then far away as the person he had chosen was already taken. However, he found that he didn't dislike imagining children now. In a voice as calm and soft as he could muster to calm her, he truthfully said,
“We’ll have children, as many as you like. Beautiful healthy children.”
But she didn't calm down at all.
“I’m sure you will but I can’t, can I?... Fated to be alone... Forever... I cheated death, but not my fate.”
Ru Shan Yong couldn't quite understand and thought for a moment that she feared having become barren.
“There is nothing wrong with your body," he assured then, and only if to calm her, he kept on persuading, "Having children if you want them so soon, that’s okay too.”
She had stopped struggling, her angry eyes still fiercely held his calm ones, and somehow, the fact that he was so calm was so damn more annoying.
“Don’t talk as if you know, you know nothing!”
Her breathing was ragged and forced. She had moved way too much. She kept on mumbling things, incomprehensible ones to him.
He assisted, as her anger morphed then to sadness, and dared he think, something akin to despair.
“I tried, but it wasn't good enough, was it? It could never be enough! ‘I’ could never be good enough... That child,... that poor child… I killed it didn’t I?”
She was, at that moment, like a small lost little girl… who couldn't find her way back... back to herself.
“No, you didn’t-.”
But she was as if in trance, not listening to him at all.
“If it wasn’t me... if it was anyone else,... he could have lived,... but because it was my body, this unfit person’s body-“
He took her in his arm, her words unbearable to his ears, and kissed her then, swallowing in his mouth her morbid rambling and self-harming thoughts.
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She just sat there, wanting to push him but unable to let go, she could only cling on desperately; wishing, wishing with all her soul... for what she didn't know... but she knew she was wishing. Hot tears she never realized she was shedding mingled with and it tasted all salty and desperate... and alive.
At this moment she both hated him yet desperately needed him closer. Oh so desperately.
And when the kiss broke, she wounded her arms around him, crying harder. Mu Rong An snuggled to his shoulder and bit his neck to muffle the sounds, willing herself to stop crying; but no matter what, it wouldn’t stop. Her shoulders kept on shaking with her ragged breaths. It was like she opened a dam and it couldn’t be undone anymore.
She was bitting so harshly that she tasted blood. Marks would be left that would keep on hurting come the next hours but he didn’t care and gently soothed her hair.
Somewhere, between sobs, she started mumbling again,
“Do you even understand? If it wasn’t me… if I wasn’t its mother... if it was… someone else… that child,... my poor child…”
And she looked all sad and hopeless and broken, worse than the little girl whose dream was wrecked. She was the woman whose world was shattered…
He squeezed her tighter, and if he could he would like to be one, to share her pain; softly, gently whispering in her ears.
“You are perfect the way you are.” Again and again, and promised himself to do so until she believed it.
How long she cried, she didn’t know. But she did so, for a long time. The repressed anger, the repressed pain, her bottled up sadness and despair, fallen hope and lost promises –those made to a yet-to-be-born child who in the end didn’t breathe its first-, all her repressed emotions went out at the same time and he was carefully holding her to not let her break in tiny little pieces that she herself would be unable to count.
She did calm down at one point and he delicately tucked her to bed again.
Her whole face was completely red, her eyes and nose the reddest. He passed a wet towel that he swept on her to help ease the warm sensation.
“I’m cold,” she complained in a strangled voice, “I’m so cold”.
He tucked the blanket up to her neck then. But despite doubling it and after tripling it, she was cold still; trembling all over, the sensation seeping in her bones, her muscles, and her very being.
“Lay with me,” she asked at last.
And he did so, taking her in his arm, careful to not touch her bandages. She snuggled to his chest, and he embraced her in his arms, their legs intertwined. He felt that he too, had certainly been cold for at this very moment with her there, he felt that the warmth he was lacking for days now was finally back.
It didn't take long before sleep took over her and he too, lulled by her steady breath so near him, her warm body by his side, he drifted to sleep, at the rhythm of her heartbeats.
It felt home now, finally.
***
He woke before her, observing her sleeping form clinging to him still. He was attentive to her, so he knew when her breathing changed and she woke. They both were, but none disentangle himself from the other.
Mu Rong An kept on clinging to him, needing him closer. It was real she told herself, she was alive, wasn’t she? He could be hers, couldn’t he? She too could be happy. Deserved to be happy... had the right to...
“What are you thinking about again?”
She was thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. Light and heavy thoughts. There was no define answer she could give him.
She had said once that he needed to talk and she would listen, from where he stood she was the one who needed sharing the most.
“I missed your warmth,” was what she settled with. “The nights were so cold and the days colder.”
The temperature these last months were increasing almost suffocating. But she couldn’t explain it, she was cold nonetheless.
He tightened his arms around her.
“So did I,” he shared.
He snuggled to her neck, inhaling her scent. Hearing her heartbeats. Both erratic and calm but still very much lively.
“I missed your music… I missed the sound of your voice… I missed you.” He sighed. “I truly missed you.”
She needed to get up, needed to eat. However at this moment, neither really wanted to.
***
General Ru had never really known how to be attentionate to a female. The women in his entourage, his family members were valiant and blunt women who didn’t care about cute things, flowers and the like. He found that he wanted to please this person, but didn’t know where to start.
But looking at her, he felt like he could start with giving her back those weights she had lost. And that was why he was constantly inviting himself to her food. Always looking at her as she was eating and Mu Rong An felt like she was back on the road going to the borders all over again, and with his hawk-like eyes, observing her every gesture. Even forcing her to eat sometimes. But now, what did she do again, she was diligently eating, wasn’t she? She didn’t even touch his sweets, did she? Must he look at her plate? She felt that she was hungry now, her stomach finally complaining about all those days it barely ate. And everything served were her favorite… she was definitely reluctant to share and being stared at like this could give her stomach-ache.
“Could it be general wants the fish, this wife isn’t stingy and would very much share!”
Ru Shan Yong could hear the biting ‘eat your own plate and stop staring’ underneath meaning or rather he could now discern them from her face and voice. He nodded, one step at a time, they could get there. And since she proposed, he guided his chopsticks and took a bite from her bowl and she could only purse her lips and replaced what he took with another morsel from the coverts.
***
The troublesome people were dealt with, imprisoned.
The responsible ones who let refugees in were punished accordingly, some lost their ranks and got lashed with the military rod. Feng Xi’s male alters ago since he was officially an advisor, didn’t get punished but had his salary deducted for three months and had been deemed unable to rise rank for three years.
At first, Feng Xi had proposed herself as the sole bearer of consequences, shouldering the blame all alone, but general Ru wasn’t a partial person and treated it fairly. Since he was unwilling to have her lashed, he still had to be a bit harsher to prevent others' dissatisfaction. However, from the beginning, she had said that she was just interested in saving that village so this punishment wouldn’t really affect her as she was going to retire anyway.
***
Sometime later, an imperial order reached the city. The emperor was calling for the general to go back to the capital.
Ru Shan Yong glanced at the bandages on his wife’s body and had a subordinate write a letter back.
‘The general is wounded and unable to immediately depart. When his state would be suitable, he will be hurrying back.’
The subordinate stilled a bit, but in the end, did as bid. If the general said he was wounded, of course, he was wounded, ah!
***
When he entered her bedroom, she was sleeping again. He wasn’t used to seeing her sleep so much but was unwilling to wake her. She was sweating a bit so he opened the windows to let the gentle wind cooled the room a bit. With his finger, he soothed the frown on her face and at one point, she smiled, an action which had him lift an eyebrow in surprise.
She was going better and better.
His own mind lighter, he went out again.
Outside, servants had stocked all the burnt possession of their masters, in hope to see what could be salvaged. Not many things, unfortunately, merely some jewelry. However, Mu Rong An’s clothes, musical instruments, and whatnots were all devoured by flames.
General Ru saw Mu Rong An’s personal servants hesitated before they went and brought to the place a relatively imposing painting box. He recognized it for having seen it enough in his chamber. This was where she stored her tools and her drawings. Many drawings of little black she did with some landscapes. The box, he was explained, only got spare because their master had asked them to get rid of it. However, it was something she held dear and they thought when she would calm down, she would want it again. So they carefully guarded it in their servant’s quarter, which wasn’t as badly affected by the fire as the masters' quarters had been.
He had the servants go out then, to inspect those things himself. Her erhu, her chess… just blacken wood now… Her painting box had slight burns from its left side but it seemed superficial some painting and it would be as good as new.
Ru Shan hesitated a bit, before opening it. The first thing he saw was the brushes on one side, and at the other, there were the coloring powders.
He opened the first drawer. A thick pile of papers greeted him. He carefully took it out and went through each one. A small smile formed its way onto his lips… those were drawings of children. Two children. A boy and a girl. They weren’t that small either, could be around ten, smiling at a flower garden. The drawings continued with the same kids from what he could see as they regressed in age, slowly… both on horses, both drinking tea. There was one where the girl was holding the sword and the boy was playing on a guqin and the next it interchanged… it went on and on to the point that they were small, tiny little babies… and a knot was forming its way slowly in Ru Shan Yong’s throat.
There were so many. So many drawings. How many times did Mu Rong An sit, imagining their lives with their children? Their small little child. That she had loved so dearly without even seeing first. A child lost to them. Looking at those small little hands stretching as though they wanted to touch the physical him, he could discern faraway ‘father, father’ calling to him. Voices he would never hear. Children he would never meet. A lone tear ran down Ru Shan Yong’s face as he stood there, lost and alone, sad and broken.
He collected himself and put back the pile to its place.
***
She was sleeping still. Having eaten not too long, she had gone to sleep again almost right after. As though sleeping was so much better than the reality. And he wondered a bit, was it?
She was here obviously at arm’s length but he really missed her. He raised the blanket and went under, taking her in his arm; he needed to feel her alive, to feel her warm skin against his, hear her low breath and steady heartbeats. But more so than that, he wanted to dream with her, marveling what it was like in her faraway lands of her imagination.
***
The next time they ate together, he nodded when seeing her eating so heartedly again. She had really thinned after all, it was good to see that she had an appetite.
“Your painting box was spared from the flames,” he told her and her chopsticks halted. She just looked at him a little surprised. Not knowing how to talk about it, he remarked first,
“Your drawing skill got better.” Then he coughed and his eyes searched hers, “That baby… It was just an accident. Your body has nothing wrong with it.” He affirmed again. He needed her to understand that.
“Unasked kindness is unwanted general,” she said putting down chopsticks and bowl.
She was withdrawing from him, wanting to preserve what exactly, he didn’t know.
“Nothing wrong with it,” he insisted, his eyes firm.
Her lips quiver...
“Nothing.”
He reached for her hand. It had more meat to it than when he came which was a reassurance. Kissing the middle of her palm, he whispered, his breath fanning her skin, “Mu Rong An, your body has nothing wrong with it.”
She nodded and leaned on him, burying her face on her chest, holding him tight. She really wanted to believe.
***
The novel was closed in a soft turn of a page. She mostly whiled away her time like this these days. Not that she didn’t like the stories, they had their part of entertainingness, but they tend to grow a bit repetitive.
“Didn’t like it?”
The voice was coming from the window, Ru Shan Yong was sat there, a military book in hand, his face looking at her.
“It was fine I guess, a bit boring.”
A corner of his lips rose.
“Do you want to change with me?”
She scrunched her face. If hers was boring his was a level higher again.
“I’m fine!”
There was laughter in his voice as he said that more books were at her left, under the bed, she just had to bend a little, before going back to his own one.
He was wearing light blue and white cloth, his hair left down. Sat where he was, they still were touching the floor lightly. Mu Rong An touched her hair too, fiddling with it a bit. Taking a strand and observing how long it was.
“Do you disdained it for being shorter?” he asked again.
She turned to him and she smiled, shaking her head slightly. She didn’t mind much, really.
His worry frown disappeared as he nodded.
It wasn’t long after, that one of Mu Rong An’s servants came knocking. It was time for the cream to be applied.
Her wounds needn’t be covered again but the cooling salve was to be applied every day. It was quite good for the scars were whitening already. Once finished, the servant went out and Mu Rong An turned to the sitting person not too far away.
“Shouldn’t we depart for the capital?” she asked her husband.
He glanced at her feet. She hadn’t set a foot down since the incident. He wouldn’t let her walk by herself until it healed completely. Whenever she needed to use the water room she had to call him, whatever it was that she had to do there, and she wasn’t just talking about bathing. It was really embarrassing!
“We are in no hurry,” he answered
She must be indignant, she tried telling herself but she was still unable to mask her smile. When touching them, her wounds didn’t hurt anymore but she found that she quite like it though, the attention, she was given, however embarrassing they could be. That, she wouldn’t deny it.
But was it enough?
Mu Rong An looked at the person in the room with her. Once, she had given the sake of dying to this person; she had trusted him with her death, could she trust him with her heart? Would she be foolish if she did that?
She felt that there were some secrets she would take to her grave, but she didn’t want… liking him…loving him to be one of them.
She felt that she was willing to try if only this once.
***
Ru Shan Yong felt that his wife was back to being herself when she started being long-winded again. Not that he was complaining.
They had eaten dinner on the floor of the chamber, and for the first time since long, Ru Shan Yong had wine at his disposal. He actually deliberately chose a strong one. He had, he found, the tick to see which kind of drunk his wife was. He couldn’t really help it; he wanted to know, he wanted to see. If asked from who he took something like this, such a strange hobby, he would, without a doubt said it to be her bad influence. She had talked long and lengthy about those drunk people she remembered from the capital and more than once repeated she wanted to see him completely wasted so that she would know which kind of drunk he was too.
Well, better be the attacker then than the defendant.
It was a bit unfair, he recognized, to his wife, who actually thought she was drinking light wine with just unusual flavor –never having drunken a strong one before-. But he felt it was good too. His wife herself wasn’t particularly a person playing by the rules, he certainly was authorized then to be a bit devious with her. Really, it was enough if only she was aware of that trait of his personality.
And, to help her not remark it, he was keeping the talk going on while pouring more wine in their cups. He was, he thought, definitely a greater drinker than her anyway, no matter if she kept on saying he had to pour a double dose in his cup.
“You know,” he confessed, “If time could be rewind and I knew that you drugged my bottles ‘that’ night…”
She looked at him, intensely, halting whatever it was that she had been saying previously. But she knew though, that no matter what he was going to say, she was hell-bent on being unrepentant! Yet his conclusion was out of her expectations,
“I would drink even more eagerly.”
The smile returned to her lips then, her eyes twinkling with happiness. Her cheeks had long gone pink and she was half not in control anymore, as she chuckled and tilted her head, drinking the content in one go, delightfully, letting out an ‘Ah’ that seemed like a liberation.
She was the kind who, when losing their inhibitions, just did whatever passed through their heads, he thought, as she mimicked his sitting position, and suddenly hot, she opened her cloth. Whatever emotion was running through her, she was displaying them without an once hesitation, without double checking if she had a pretty smile enough to hide her inner thought. It felt good talking to her like that, really good. He too was smiling without a stop for a moment now.
“I am good, aren’t I?”
He nodded, “You are”
“The best,” she said again, coming closer to him,
“Of the very best.”
She nodded again. She liked boosting her ego too apparently.
When she approached to take hold of the bottle from his hand, he hid it behind his back. That was far enough. She shouldn’t be drinking more. Not that it was to her pleasure since she went to her place, both hands trying to take it from his back. His smile more prominent, he wound one hand around his wife’s waist. Before the pout finished forming itself on her face and she started chasing around for more wine, he said, looking into her eyes,
“As long as you don’t take any decision in a moment of anger, you’re finicky and thriving perfection. Definitely the best.”
She frowned at that, displeased, extracting herself from his embrace.
“General jests, this decision of drugging you, wasn’t it also taken in anger?”
He felt the case a bit helpless, missing the warm that had been just there as she sat back, just in front of him now, knees touching.
“How about, next time, when you won’t be so calm anymore, you let me hear your decision before you act on it so that we can both see if it is a reasonable one?”
“Was the action of drugging general Ru reasonable?” she asked, her smile lifting “You would have said no, right? And there was no way then that the time now could exist” He took his hand, suddenly as though to confirm that she was still here, they still existed. She suddenly had a certain slyness in her eyes, lifting their intertwined hands, she asked, “Does general really want a world where I wouldn’t be there?”
“This world is fine enough,” he had said then, in all seriousness, kissing the back of her hand, eyes locked together. And Mu Rong An was suddenly bashful under this scrutinizing gaze.
“You're no fun,” she complained to him then when her cheeks warmed even more, “General used to blush if I was getting too close, now it’s not fair!”
He suddenly laughed at that all happy and free and she buried her head to his chest. Ah, the place was warm and good. She could hear his beating heart and felt his chest rise and fell as he laughed. She wounded her arms behind his back. It was good to be here. He didn’t laugh at her expense for long, but the corner of his lips couldn’t stop rising. He stroked the hair on the person embracing him, feeling the softness of her breathing, the warm heat through his cloth. Maybe he should bring her back to bed now.
She asked suddenly, in a small voice,
“I am not Li Ming Qi, do you disdain me for that?”
He paused, taken aback, before letting his chin on her head.
“Of course not, you’re Mu Rong An, no need to compare.”
“I still don’t like riding, will you hate me for that?”
His mouth twitched in humor.
“It’s okay to take the carriage then, no trouble.”
“...When in the Capital, will you abandon me?”
“Of course not, you can go back tea houses, to painting landscapes or little black or go back to music, I’ll accompany you to it all if you want.”
She snuggled even closer,
“About that night, what I did, I’m a bit sorry now… but not apologetic,” she added.
What kind of apology was this one? Could it even be considered an apology? He chuckled a bit, soothing her hair, he said,
“That’s fine then. I accept your apologies.”
In a smaller tone, muffled by his cloth, she asked,
“…I like you, do you hate me for that?”
He halted then and inhaled the scent of her hair before whispering to her too,
“No… I think I like you too.”
She suddenly disentangled from him, wanting to see his face. There was a smile there, one that reached his eyes, kilometers apart from the usual general’s face. From sitting, she went to her knees, a bright smile on her face too, as she straddled him, sitting on his thigh.
“Do you find your wife beautiful?” she asked in a whisper, leaning to his face.
“Very much.”
She leaned even closer,
“Even last year when all you wanted was to wring my neck?”
She put both hands on his shoulders, while he steadied her with a hand around her waist.
“Especially then,” he said, gruffly, noses touching, eyes locked together, breath intertwining.
And the fire, of there was a blazing fire in them, consuming them, trying to break free.
“Then, good general, what are you waiting for to kiss this wife?”
And the general did as his wife bid.
***
The morning after, she woke up groaning. Her head aching a bit and he had a hungover soup prepared for her.
“That wasn’t fair.”
And he did as though he didn’t understand, taking her complaint in a kiss. And somehow, between his heated tongue and caresses, she forgot all that she was complaining about.
When they had been bathed and clothed, she wanted, she said, to see her painting box and he had people take it over.
But she sat there, hands trembling, heart aching, unable to open it. He was beside her then, putting his hand on hers as they opened it together.
She saw her things, they were all intact, spared by the fire. Touching them, as though rediscovering them, she could imagine herself again, when she just sat there and drew. Drew a happy, beautiful life. And she really wished it could still be.
He didn’t rush her, let her the time as she touched every one of her brushes and when she had picked the last, he commented about her children drawings. They were good, really. And if she wanted he could have an expert enlarged every one of her painting.
Ruminating his last words, she couldn’t help herself but shake with laughter.
She was laughing at his expenses but he really didn’t know what he said. He could only touch his nose, his eyes happy to see her good again, even though he really wanted to know what prompted these waves of laughter.
He wasn’t ignorant too long.
“Did general inspect all the drawings?”
He didn’t, not really, he had seen the first drawer and the second, he hadn’t opened the rest.
But she did, she opened all the drawers and took out all the piles. There were behind false bottoms, which wood she took out and for each of the four drawers, there was a new pile of papers.
When she carefully unfolded it, the him who was looking over her shoulder felt his breathing halt a bit, his whole body stiffening. She was leaning on him and looked up at his face as he took the drawing in hands, letting him saw it closer.
Ah, it seemed he was stiffening more, she thought with a bit of slyness.
Pictures of him. Him. Ru Shan Yong hadn’t even voiced his admiration for her drawings -which he recognised did look close to the true; She even drew him on little black with his military uniform on- but his words died on his throat as he saw that the more papers he was putting to the side, the more naked he was going.
Drawing him without an upper cloth was fine, but was there a need to draw a complete naked scene, barely covered? The face on the drawings was flushed and goodness, was his body aroused?
How can a person draw such a thing!
His already embarrassed form had the tips of his ears turned redder. And he thought back to his words, wanting to enlarge all her drawings. For others to see him like this…
Mu Rong An saw, as even the person’s neck turned red, the smile never left her face. Ah, the expression he had on, she itched to take a brush again.
And it was as though he read her mind,
“I’m going to destroy them all!”
“Why, aren’t they good enough?”
Really, ah what could he do with such a person!
“That kind of things actually procured me joy, and drawing you in that ecstasy, the kind of face that only I know, I wouldn’t want others to see; So they’re secured really. They are only for me.”
He was bright red, shaking his head to ignore her nonsense as he folded the papers again,
“What would you do with them anyway?”
She hugged him then, really ah, she didn’t want him to burn them,
“They’re for when you’d be all grey, with wrinkles everywhere, I can remember then that you had once been a dashing young man.”
Really, left people speechless!
“And what can I remember your young days with!”
“Ah, but general, your wife will be forever young in your eyes, won’t she?”
She sure had no qualm in saying that, still rambling on about his exquisite body. He groaned and leaned to kiss her, shutting her embarrassing mouth.
She yelped in surprise as she was lifted suddenly off the ground, his arms wrapping around her and they were back on the bed.
***
It was the sound outside that woke her. The howling winds rattling the windows.
It hadn’t rained for a long time. Actually, all through the year, there had been almost no rain at all. But here it was now, pelting the windows accompanied by loud thunder shattering the sky. The pitter-patter of the rain filled her ears. Things had advanced and arrived far before they were supposed to. This rain was supposed to be the silence before the storm. That acclaim moment when the villager and army would lower their guards and then there would be attacks from the neighboring country. A state that should have lasted for months.
But now, it seemed the rain was announcing the end of it before it even began. Mu Rong An flittingly wondered what geared it all, how it had been resolved, before throwing questions like these at the back of her head. She didn’t really care. Military strategies or whatnots, that too, she didn’t care, but, she turned around and looked at the person in the bed by her side. She did care about this one very much. As long as he was alright, then it was good.
She lifted one of his arms and snuggled to him. They both had no clothes on, so she directly felt the warmth on his skin against hers. She breathed slowly, contentedly.
They were set to leave for the capital in some hours but she wished this moment with them both under those coverts could go on forever.
“Go back to sleep,” He murmured to her. It was still night after all.
She lifted her head to see his gaze on her, smiling, she pushed herself up to meet his lips and when they parted, she whispered,
“I don’t want to… reality is finally better than dreams.”
He had previously -when she had glared at the almost invisible scars on her body, complaining about them not being completely removable-, kissed every one of them as though he worshipped them, and she had felt special. Unique. That was the sensation she wanted to keep on feeling.
His burning gaze locked onto hers as he shifted them so that she was under him and kissed her again. Heatingly and passionately. He breathed onto her skin, his breath heated against the cooling night. The contrast caused her to shiver, her legs parting as her lips did the same in a soundless whisper.
The storm had picked up outside. She felt like she was in a cocoon with him, wrapped up in a warm storm cloud and shot through with bursts of lightning every time he clutched her thighs or sucked another hickey onto her throat, onto her breasts, marking her. She was his. And he was hers. So, she marked him alike.
There was in her that sensation of want, want, want. His name resonated in the room muffled by the sounds outside. She had repeated it so long that she felt it became a reverberation in the room; when she kept on saying it, their bodies rollicking, and close enough, it just kept on being reiterated by her mouth so much that it surely turned into an echo. And he was groaning hers and she felt all complete and warm and full.
For a long few minutes, only the sound of the storm and their panting filled the place. She sat back on his thighs, kissing him all over again while he softened inside of her.