If She Only Knew
Jingyuan~
In the quiet courtyard, the stillness, the devoid of any sound, is disconcerting. All her devoted servants, including Little Min, are bowing in front of the entry of Yueli’s palace. They kneel on the ground, heads deferred and gazes lowered. Many are unabashedly crying, their tears reflect their concerns and distress.
Bobo tells me the scene is because of her command. Yueli, who is alone inside, had instructed everyone to stay outside and not to bother or call upon me under any circumstances. The servants had done as told, but when it sounded as if there was an earthquake happening inside, her junior eunuch had rushed to his senior Bobo, worried about the empress.
As I enter the once comfortable palace, now reduced to rubble, her anguish, like a tempest, has left ruin in its wake. Everywhere I look, there is complete havoc. Yueli has destroyed her home. The elegant furniture, some of which has been in her family for a hundred years, is now overturned and broken. The ottoman from her greeting room, the one she cherished since it was made by our emperor grandfather, has been smashed with such force that one leg, carved to resemble an elephant’s, is across the room.
The beautiful purple curtains, with the embroidery of the silver phoenix symbolic of longevity, have been pulled down and now on the floors in disarrayed heaps. Their absence leaves the windows stark and bare. The once vibrant silkscreens are now marred by long rips. The many mirrors from the walls have been ripped down and thrown to the floor, where they remain shattered and their broken glass creating a twinkling mosaic. It’s impossible to avoid stepping on glass shards. My heavy footsteps crunch on the shattered glass, turning it to dust.
Smashed ceramic fragments, remnants of broken vases, dishes, and decorations, lay scattered on the floor, their sharp edges reflecting her fractured emotions. Yet amidst this chaos, Yueli is the one who is truly shattered. Her sorrow is tangible. Curled up into a tight little ball, she resembles a pile of clothes more than a person sitting, pressed into the farthest corner of her bedroom. Her tear-streaked face, hidden and hunched posture, reveals her profound sense of despair. Hugging her knees tightly, she weeps into her lap, the sound of her ragged, gasping sobs filling the room.
A small brazier, radiating in the middle of her bedroom, casts mesmerizing flickers of flame. On the pile of glowing red coal embers, the remains of a mostly burned painting lie, barely recognizable. The picture is of her painted by Jinghua when she, like a delicate peach blossom, was in bloom and in love for the very first time. As I fix my gaze upon the remnants, I can almost feel the heaviness it brings. It is a poignant reminder of their passionate love affair that went up in flames.
I had kept it from her and ordered everyone to not discuss it, but she’s found out, nevertheless. She has learned of Jinghua’s news – his wife is two months into her third pregnancy.
They have a newborn baby who is not even seven months old, yet his wife carries a new life inside her. This is another severe blow to her already bruised heart. It hits her like a sharp slap in the face as she has yet to get over the birth of his second child. The third pregnancy is indisputable proof. She can’t pretend Jinghua and his wife’s affection for each other aren’t genuine, but it’s hard for A-li to accept.
Jinghua is aware that Haoyu is his son, but he hasn’t made an effort to bond with him. He has only seen Haoyu twice – during the school opening and the night A-ming gave birth in the palace. Ironically, Haoyu was one of the first to see the newborn. Jinghua has exchanged less than a dozen words with Haoyu. I thought I understood Jinghua well, but his lack of interest in Haoyu surprises me just as much. I can understand why A-li believes Jinghua has chosen A-ming and their children over her and Haoyu. Jinghua’s actions leave little room to think otherwise.
Yueli, once again, feels abandoned and rejected. Still.
She feels trapped, jìn tuì wéi gǔ, unable to move forward or go back.
“Well,” I say aloud. Holding my hands behind my back, I stroll around the room, using my feet to push broken things to the side and clear some space on the cluttered floor. I start to converse, sounding like I’m talking to myself, knowing she’s listening. “It seems like a good time to redecorate this entire palace. Where should I get the funds for such an expensive project? I could transfer the money from empress’s school’s budget to the national treasury to cover the cost of the renovation.”
Yueli pauses her crying, just long enough to mumble. With a whimper, she says, “That money is for the school. Emperor, you can’t take it back.”
I squat down beside her, a sigh escaping my lips. Sitting close, our arms brush against each other. We exchange warmth; hers becoming mine and mine hers. Knowing she’d be pleased, I share the news in a relaxed, one-sided conversation. I tell her of the names of the scholars who have agreed to join her dream to educate the poorest of our subjects. Every scholar is renowned for their accomplishments and they have conformed to volunteer teaching in her schools, over prestigious institutions, that have presented considerable salaries. Even Master Zho, shifu to myself and royal father, has come out of retirement to join Yueli’s philanthropy work.
Then I let her have her cry.
She cries relentlessly, her pitiful sobs echoing through the room, until her voice becomes hoarse and her tear ducts run dry. We remain in the corner, enveloped in a peaceful silence. As time crawls by, shifting light causes shadows to dance to the rhythm of the sun’s movement outside. The numbness spreads from my backside down to my legs, causing a slight discomfort. But if she’s not ready to get up, then neither am I for I am here for her.
Suddenly, she breaks the silence, her voice filled with vulnerability, and curious, as she asks me why I have been so patient with her. I’ve kept my smoldering desire for her hidden, but she has noticed. “Why haven’t you forced me to serve you? She asks.
In the depths of her amber eyes, I silently express what should have been shared before this trial. “I will never force myself or anything upon you ever again. I don’t know what could have possessed me to treat you as I did. I am sorry.”
The apology is heartfelt from my immortal self, but vanity emerges from my mortal voice. I respond brashly, brimming with confidence. “I don’t need to force anyone to serve me. In case you haven’t noticed, I have over eighty women fighting over me.”
While coughing and pretending to clear her throat, Yueli insults me under the guise of coughing by calling me “a male seducer.”
I chuckle, and she laughs too. The tension in the room lifts for a moment, but the reprieve is but fleeting, and we soon return to our meaningful conversation that turns darker.
She confesses, sharing her malevolent thoughts with a melancholy and solemn expression. Sometimes, while lying in bed, she obsesses over ways to make Jinghua love her again. She has considered resorting to insidious methods, tricks, and lies, regardless of who gets hurt. She admits it’s sinful, but the idea of having his wife killed has crossed her mind. She just wants him to be hers again. She asks me, “Emperor, have you ever felt this way about someone?”
If she only knew. If she only knew…
“I sometimes pray for Jinghua to wake up and change his mind about everything. I fantasize he will march into the palace and demand that Haoyu and I go with him. I know this is highly unlikely, maybe even impossible. But, emperor, what would you do? Would you try to stop him? Us?”
She’s clearly thought a lot about this impossible scenario, which her question reveals.
I hold her hand, our fingers entwining. Our eyes meet and hold, intensely focused on each other. I make her a promise as my heart speaks to hers.
“I, the eldest and rightful son of the Heavenly Father and Heavenly Mother, the Master of Kunlun Mountain, and the God of War, release you, High Goddess, Queen of Qingqui, most cherished seventeenth disciple, Heavenly Empress, free. Throughout this lifetime and all future ones, I shall never assert any ownership over you nor coerce you into any actions against your desires. You are at liberty to love whomever, however, and whenever you choose, for eternity.”
“I would let you go.” I answer, then I tell her I would thank her for allowing me the honor of raising prince Haoyu. “You have given me five years. I couldn’t have wished for a better empress.”
“Why wouldn’t you be resentful towards me?” She responds.
“I wouldn’t blame you or be upset if you decided to leave me. Let’s be honest.” I tease her. “You’d be crazy to leave a handsome and dashing emperor like me.”
“Empress, there’s a saying – if you love something, let it go. I love you, so I would let you go. I would set you free like a bird. You could spread your wings and rise higher, and I would be proud of the heights you soared.” I say meaning every word.
My words dissolve into the air like wisps of smoke, filling the small gap between us. Each inhale and exhale a soft, nervous sigh. I can sense the warmth of her presence as she inches closer, her gentle touch grazing my cheek like a soft breeze on a delicate feather. The subtle fragrance of her perfume fills my senses, mixing with the scent of my own nervous anticipation, creating a sweet, intoxicating aroma that envelops us both. Slowly, she lifts my face, and our eyes finally connect, locking in an intense gaze, like two magnets drawn together.
Her words seem dreamlike, making reality feel blurry and fantastical, because this moment is something I’ve longed for. “Jingyuan, bié fàng kāi wǒ, wǒ bù huì fàng kāi ni. Don’t release me, I won’t release you, alright? I just need a little more time to heal from Jinghua’s betrayal. Can you give me that?”
My life is ever-ending, like a timeless river since she and I are immortal. This mortal trial is but a quick test that will finished soon. “Lifetimes. I’ll give you forever,” I say.
My answer earns me a smile, as a sweet smile dances upon Yueli’s lips. She leans over and lightly kisses my cheek. A faint spark of hope, like a hidden ember, reignites within her and causes her eyes to sparkle. She clasps my hand firmly; the pressure sending a comforting warmth coursing through my veins. I reach out and tenderly wipe away the white stray strands of hair that cling to her damp and tear-streaked face.
“What a mess I’ve made,” she murmurs, fatigued from crying.
I have stiff joints from sitting too long. When I stand, my body cracks. I groan, straighten up, loosen my limbs, and offer my hand to her. The messy room makes me anxious. “Let’s leave this mess. It’s giving me a panic attack. How about we drink as much wine as we want?
Given her character, it makes sense that Yueli, in her human form, enjoys drinking too.
With an impish smile, she inquires, her voice lighthearted and even flirtatious. But her amorous affections aren’t intended for me but the wine. “Do you truly think Yueli should be free to indulge in as much drink as she desires, with no criticism? I understand that you don’t derive as much pleasure from drinking as I do,” she continues, her words tinged with a mischievous melody, “but perhaps tonight you could partake, if only a little, to avoid becoming overly intoxicated.” In the blink of an eye, her face undergoes a remarkable transformation – her sorrow diminishes, replaced by an effervescent joy akin to a full moon in its luminosity, casting a radiant glow that sets my heart racing.
I resist the urge to pinch her rosy cheeks and instead take her hands, pulling her close. “I’ll join you. Don’t worry, I don’t get drunk easily,” I confidently declare. “I’ve been making wine for a long time, so my alcohol tolerance is high. I can even out drink the phoenix, which is quite an accomplishment. So, Yueli, don’t worry about me getting drunk. Let’s see if you can keep up with me.”
The Empress’s servants notice her change in disposition as we walk by. They are relieved to see her no longer crying and in better spirits. Their beaming faces show their relief. She gets into the royal shoulder carriage and sits close to me. Under her breath, she grumbles, “Sometimes, emperor, you say the weirdest things.”
We sat on the open terrace in the Hall of Heavenly Calmness. From there, we could see the breathtaking views of the capital where she and I rule. Yueli raised her glass and expressed gratitude for various blessings. She celebrated the enjoyable weather, the inauguration of her latest free health clinic, the remarkable growth and well-being of Prince Haoyu, and the other imperial children. She even acknowledged the news of Jinghua’s wife. Holding her wine glass high, she also wished for A-Ming’s comfortable pregnancy and easy childbirth, reaffirming the depth of Empress Yueli’s goodness because her heart, like a gentle breeze amidst a storm, is both tender and resilient.
The night fell short of being perfect by just a little. The only thing wrong was my assumption that this mortal could handle alcohol. An infant could out-drink emperor Jingyuan.
========
Yueli~
Oh, my head…Oh my head. Why can’t I move my neck? The inside of my parched mouth is drier than the desert. “Little Min…little min.” I call out hoarsely. “Wa.wat..water. I’m so thirsty.”
The coolness of a cup’s rim is held up to my mouth. Liquid spills down the seams of my mouth as I gulp without opening my eyes, thinking I’ve never tasted water this refreshing. The process of raising my head to drink water has sapped all my strength. I sink back into bed, moaning from my hangover. When bare skin rubs against mine, I snuggle deeper into the warmth, inhaling the smell of masculinity and powerful arms that embrace me…. Embrace me?!!!
“AHHHHHHH!” I open my eyes and let out a blood-curdling scream to find the emperor in my bed. We are both nude. My scream jolts him awake, sending him into a panic.
His sloppy hair is somewhere in the middle of being in a topknot and loose, messy. With his disheveled hair, Jingyuan leaps from the bed in a single move. “Fàngsì! How dare someone attack the emperor while I sleep!!?” He commands someone, anyone, to bring him his sword. He must think we’re being attacked. “Bobo! Bring me my royal sword!” His normally smooth, even voice is hoarse and rough like mine from drinking.
“Where is my sword?!” he demands, his voice echoing with urgency. The bewilderment on his face as he frantically searches the room matches my own feelings.
He abruptly twists his torso, causing his semistiff member to sway and tap against his legs.
The sight of his backside sends a shiver down my spine, and I gasp in horror when I notice the raised red streaks stretching from his shoulders to his mid-back. The marks are angry and vivid, contrasting against his unmarked skin. My heart sinks as I recognize those markings – nail rakings. No one in the harem would never dare to inflict such wounds upon Jingyuan, except maybe me…
That’s not all. The sheets carry a faint scent of spent passion, filling the air with the undeniable aroma of sex. The bedding I’m sitting on is slightly damp from the exchange of bodily fluids.
The situation is overwhelming. I’m trying my best to remember what happened, but alas, I can’t recall how we ended up in his bedchamber. The last lucid memory I have is drinking on the terrace. I was intoxicated and started crying again. This led to him holding me… but that doesn’t explain why we’re both naked in his bed unless…
I jumped him. I know it was me. I should have known better.
I have deprived myself of “meat” for too long.
Jingyuan stops calling for his sword. He plants his hands on his hips and suddenly wonders aloud, perplexed, “Why is it so cold in here?”
He appears just as disoriented as me. He glances around the bedchamber. He takes a moment before noticing me sitting up in bed, holding the blankets up to my neck with my hair, looking a bit like his. He immediately glances at himself and realizes he’s also naked. Startled, he jumps back into bed, where he is unwelcomed.
“Ouch, Yueli! Stop it! Stop kicking me!” he complains, flinching with each punch. He tries to shield himself in the bed while enduring my kicks.
My feet frantically pounding on what feels like his thigh. “Get out of my bed! Get out now!” I scream in a high pitch, clutching the comforter for dear life. “This is my bed. You get out,” he replies dryly.
He tries to snatch the blanket from my grasp. The single comforter is our weapon of choice for a tug-of-war. “What are you doing?!” I shout, the pain in my head intensifying.
He’s trying to act calm, but I can tell he’s just as panicked as me.
Both of us are naked in bed, and his confusion changes to sadness as he quietly says, “The plum has been waiting to be eaten for so long.”
The bed groans as he moves on it. He collapses onto his bed, whimpering, and it almost sounds like he’s crying. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this..The wait has been so long.”
He weep into his pillow then stops. Without lifting his cushion from his face, he asks with a trace of optimism in his voice. “Perhaps we got warm from the drinks and ended up removing our clothes, and then just slept, Yueli?”
This man is unbelievable. How can he manage an empire with such a limited intellect? We’re both naked. I can tell from the discomfort inside me and between my thighs that we had sex and what is this plum he keeps going on about? “Emperor, we definitely did more than sleep,” I say with annoyance, shaking my head at him and the absurdity of it all.
His voice is barely audible as he mumbles from beneath his pillow. Timidly, he asks, “Was it at least enjoyable for you?”
“I remember nothing!” I bark in reply.
He groans harder into his pillow after hearing my response.
==========
Eunuch Bo~
The tired emperor calls out, “Bobo?” Lately, he has been off and Always staring away in the distance. Clearly, his mind is elsewhere.
I hurriedly approach him, my eyes immediately drawn to the sight of him fixated on the same documents. His gaze locked for hours. Worry creeps up as I notice his flushed complexion, prompting me to reach out and touch his forehead, hoping to gauge any signs of fever. His sharp reprimand slaps my hand away, and I can almost hear the forceful exhale of breath through his nostrils.
He emerges from his desk’s shadow, his pacing footsteps echoing across the room, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. He reports, “I’m worried my friend made a regrettable mistake with his wife one night.”
“She’s been steering clear of him ever since. He hasn’t seen her in two months.”
The emperor is perturbed because the empress didn’t serve him on the last full moon. Her reason was valid – Prince Haoyu and third princess had chicken pox. This month, she couldn’t attend the full moon ritual because of her unexpected monthly cycle. I found two things strange: the empress has always been regular for five years and she suddenly requested a chef from Szechwan province. The empress’s palace explained that she’s been eating spicy food to keep warm in the winter, which makes sense, but it did strike me odd.
He stops talking and lets out a long sigh. He gazes at the ceiling, looking dejected. “My friend fears that on that night, he did not satisfy his wife. He thinks he may have been too eager and couldn’t control his enthusiasm. He worries that he was too hasty with his wife, and now she doubts his stamina.” He confesses earnestly.
I remind the emperor that his concubines have complained about the length of his encounters. They have been left uncomfortable for days. I suggest that the empress might be struggling with the intensity of the intimate pleasures she experienced. She might need a break to recover from being overly satisfied by him. The emperor gives me a small smile before he turns his cantankerous expression on me.
He barks, “Impudent! How dare you be so bold! Your insolence touches the heavens! I wasn’t doubting my stamina. I was talking about my friend.”
His eyes, already small, narrow even more, becoming thin slits. Above his angry scowl, the mustache twitches twice. With an intense gaze burning into me with fury, I try to escape his grumpiness by bowing lower and burying myself in my robe, rendering myself silent. As I do so, I can’t help but consider that today is going to be a long, tiring day, thanks to the emperor’s dreadful mood that is simply insufferable.
However, amidst my despair, I am suddenly filled with an overwhelming sense of gratitude for an unexpected interruption. It is then that I notice my junior eunuch from the empress’s palace waiting by the entry of the study, and I rush towards him eagerly. Whispers in my ear from the eunuch bring tears of joy to my eyes, blurring my vision as I sprint back to the emperor to share the marvelous news.
Overwhelmed with excitement, I sink to the ground, kowtowing, and exclaim, “Congratulations! Congratulations, emperor! The empress is pregnant! Your child grows in the empress!”