Chapter Twenty-One: Husband and Wife

Once, a sincere love was placed before me, but I failed to cherish it...

Li Yu pulled Hu Ji up onto the roof. Together, they gazed at the stars, chatting about A Chinese Odyssey. At first, Hu Ji was bewildered by the tale, but gradually became captivated, and was ultimately moved—after all, what young girl can resist the stirrings of first love?

Li Yu, seeing Hu Ji’s tear-filled eyes, was overcome by impulse and leaned in to kiss her. Startled, Hu Ji instinctively pushed him away. Li Yu, losing his balance, tumbled down with a cry, landing with a crash that startled Xiao Tao, resting in the next room.

Trembling, Hu Ji hurried down the ladder, panicked at the sight of Li Yu sprawled motionless on the ground. “What should I do? Husband... I didn’t mean to!” she cried, distraught.

Xiao Tao ran over, confusion plain on her face, but without pausing to ask questions, she grabbed Li Yu and dragged him back into the room.

“Ow, that hurts! Xiao Tao, could you be a little gentler?” Li Yu could no longer keep up the act. This silly girl thought saving someone meant dragging them by force—his face was scraped raw.

“Master risked his life for Sister Hu Yu, and now he’s afraid of a little pain? What were you two doing climbing the roof in the middle of the night?” Xiao Tao asked, hands on her hips and visibly annoyed when she saw Li Yu rise to his feet.

Li Yu smiled sheepishly, glancing at the still-nervous Hu Yu. “Don’t be ridiculous. Hu Yu was feeling homesick and wanted to look at the moon. I didn’t feel comfortable letting her go alone, so I went up to keep her company.”

“Really?” Xiao Tao eyed them both suspiciously, looking every bit the little adult.

“It’s all my fault, Xiao Tao,” Hu Ji said. “Don’t blame the master.”

“‘Husband’? Master, what sort of title is that? I’ve never heard it before,” Xiao Tao queried, puzzled.

Rubbing his injured nose, Li Yu chuckled awkwardly. “In the Arab lands, ‘husband’ means master. Hu Yu is from the north, near those regions, so I was teaching her how to address me in their fashion.” Even as he said it, Li Yu barely believed his own lie.

Xiao Tao gave him a look that clearly said, “Do you think I’m stupid?” Hu Ji, on the other hand, had to fight back laughter, her expression barely holding together.

Hurriedly, Li Yu sent them both away and went off to tend to his wounds. Xiao Tao was getting bolder by the day; she no longer treated him as the master. That would have to change.

Hu Ji lingered by Li Yu’s door, her fingers touching her lips, uncertain if her heart was sweet or sour.

At dawn the next morning, Li Yu dragged a sleepy Hu Ji out to the countryside to fly kites.

They lay in the grass, gazing up at the azure sky, their bodies feeling light and at ease, as if they had become one with nature.

“I haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time,” Li Yu said.

“Husband, do you think days like this will last forever?” Hu Ji asked.

“On life’s journey, through joys and sorrows, I wish to share it all with you... The sun always shines after the rain; believe there is a rainbow…” Li Yu began to sing.

“Husband, that’s such a beautiful song,” Hu Ji said. “If only I were not a northern woman, or you not a man of China—how wonderful it would be.”

Li Yu turned to look at her, his hand propping up his head, gazing into her gem-like eyes. “There’s a star in the sky called Sirius, the Dog Star. It carries a beautiful meaning: it will never give up loving you, no matter the trials it faces, loving you for eternity.”

“Let me tell you another story,” he continued. “There were once two rival families, locked in hatred for generations. In the latest generation, a boy and a girl appeared—the boy was named Romeo, the girl Juliet…”

“Husband, you’re terrible—you only know how to make me cry,” Hu Ji said, tears sparkling in her eyes.

Li Yu gently wiped away her tears and, drawn in by her brilliance, kissed her deeply. This time, Hu Ji did not shy away, but responded with passionate intensity, embodying the bold and unrestrained spirit of her people—loving fiercely, hating fiercely.

She loved, so she loved.

When they returned home hand in hand, Xiao Tao looked at her master in disbelief and gave him a secret thumbs-up—after only two days!

Another sunset, another moonrise, the same scene. Hu Ji nestled in Li Yu’s arms. “Husband, I lied to you,” she whispered.

Li Yu paused—was this a confession? “My little wife, what’s wrong?”

“What does ‘wife’ mean?” Hu Ji asked.

“Husband is the master’s title, and the lady is called wife—a natural pair.”

“So that was your plan all along!” Hu Ji said, half amused, half indignant.

Li Yu laughed, ruffling her hair. “And what did my wife lie to her husband about? Out with it!”

“My name isn’t Hu Yu. My real name is Hu Ji. I am the daughter of the Wolf Tribe’s chieftain.” She hesitated, then continued, “My father was captured by Touman. I came to Qin seeking aid. I wanted to contact your king, but my contact said only you could help, so I found a way to get close to you…”

Li Yu’s mind raced. Touman had captured Hu Ji’s father. If the story followed its original path, Hu Ji would seek help from Ying Zheng, but Touman would be enraged and kill her father. Ying Zheng would not help, and Hu Ji would flee to the grasslands, raise Touman’s child, and eventually use that child to kill Touman. Meanwhile, Hu Hai would ascend the throne, and it would be the renowned Modu Shanyu who killed Touman in the end. What a grand game of chess.

Looking at the woman before him, he realized how formidable she was. Perhaps she was taking things one step at a time, not thinking too far ahead, but her cunning was undeniable.

Fortunately, she was in his arms now. With that thought, Li Yu pulled her closer, inhaling her sweet scent. “You want me to save your father?”

Hu Ji nodded.

Li Yu sprang to his feet and looked into the distance. “For my father-in-law, I’ll help you with this!”

…

Nineteenth day of the tenth month, the sixth year of King Zheng of Qin

Qinchuan Palace

That morning’s court was lively. The state of Zhao had announced its surrender and willingness to cede five cities to Qin, but Ying Zheng was dissatisfied. He insisted that the crown prince of Zhao be sent as a hostage, sparking heated debate that dragged on until midday, with no resolution.

Li Yu followed Ying Zheng to the study, where he silently stared at the world map on the wall.

Ying Zheng, curious, asked, “Do you see a problem with this map, brother?”

“Don’t you think this region is rather vast?” Li Yu replied, pointing to the northern grasslands beyond the Great Wall.

“It is, but it’s just full of barbarians—nothing to worry about,” Ying Zheng said with a nod.

Li Yu shook his head. “Have you considered that while you’re unifying the Central Plains, the grasslands are not idle? If a great leader were to unite the tribes there, would they still be insignificant? The steppe peoples are born to the saddle, every man a warrior. If you can ride, you can fight. Tell me, who among them cannot ride?”

Now, Ying Zheng took the matter seriously. “What are you suggesting?”

“Drive out the wolves to swallow the tigers—let the sandpiper and clam struggle while the fisherman profits. I volunteer to go north on your behalf.”

“Why must you go in person? I can send Meng Tian,” Ying Zheng countered.

“One of my wives is the daughter of the Wolf Tribe chieftain. I intend to support her as a new force against Touman. Have you ever thought of a way to resolve the steppe problem once and for all?”

“What do you propose?” Ying Zheng asked.

“Great integration of peoples. If they are not of our kind, their hearts must be different—but if we make them a part of our civilization, the issue disappears. You in me, me in you. The fundamental problem is a lack of resources. I am confident I can encourage production on the grasslands, so they need not worry about survival. And we have another secret weapon: Confucianism.”

“Confucianism?” Ying Zheng echoed.

“Yes, Confucianism. We can send some of our pedantic literati, those obsessed with etiquette, to the grasslands to teach them. It would be as effective as deploying a hundred thousand cavalry.”

“Are you serious?” Ying Zheng asked.

“Absolutely. I even have someone in mind—Uncle Sun Tong.”

At the mention of that name, Ying Zheng frowned, then burst out laughing. “Very well, let it be him!”

…

After his audience with Ying Zheng, Li Yu made his way to Ganquan Palace.

Zhao Gao was no longer serving at Ganquan; a female official had taken his place, someone Zhao Gao assured him was one of their own, so Li Yu could rest easy.

Upon entering, Li Yu sensed Zhao Ji was sulking. He signaled the palace maids to keep quiet as he crept up behind Zhao Ji and covered her eyes. “Little kitten, guess who I am?”

“You little scoundrel! Where have you been all these days? Is there someone else out there?” Zhao Ji pouted.

The maids quietly withdrew, leaving only the two of them in the garden. Li Yu spun Zhao Ji around in his arms. “Mother, I missed you so much,” he declared, stealing a kiss.

“Mm… Don’t try to gloss things over. Tell me the truth… mm… Are you part dog or something? Oh, you little thief!”

In the wavering candlelight, behind layers of red silk and drifting sandalwood, two entwined silhouettes melted into one, the room saturated with the scent of desire, the taste of the sea, the music of life.

With a final soaring cry, the symphony of life reached its conclusion.

“You seemed especially excited when you called me ‘Mother’ just now,” Zhao Ji murmured.

“…”

“Don’t play dumb. Who is she? Where did you learn all these tricks? You even know how to… lick—you’re not afraid it’s dirty?”

“Every part of you is like a flower, how could it be dirty? And I never expected you to be dressed like that beneath your clothes—how could I possibly resist?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“You’re the one who started it! Ow—why are you biting me?”

“If you don’t confess, I’ll bite that off too.”

“Alright, I’ll tell the truth! Last time, Lord Changping invited me to a banquet. I was drugged and passed out. Someone took advantage of me. She seemed pitiful, so I took her in.”

“Lord Changping? I’ll have Zheng punish him!”

“No, Zheng already knows.”

“Since when do you call him Zheng?”

“It slipped out after being with you so much. Given our relationship, isn’t it reasonable for me?”

“Would you dare call him that to his face?”

“I wouldn’t.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“Just because I wouldn’t now doesn’t mean I never will. Just wait, Mother.”

“Don’t—you may be shameless, but I’m not!”

“Mother, you are so beautiful…”

“Don’t try to sweet-talk your way out of this.”

“I could speak sweet words to you for a lifetime. If that’s all I ever say, it’s still the truth. I wish to spend my life speaking honeyed words to you.”

“You little thief who stole my heart…”

…

It was late at night when, watching Zhao Ji sleep, Li Yu quietly slipped out of bed, gathered his clothes, and dressed in the courtyard, careful not to disturb her dreams.

Outside, the female official was waiting. Li Yu asked, “How is your lightness skill?”

Walking through the quiet streets, he glanced up at the official leaping over the city walls—no words passed between them.

“Are all members of the Web like this? I hope Jing Ni is different…”

At Fragrant Pavilion, the hour of the pig was its liveliest—crowds coming and going.

Li Yu, like an old patron, went straight to the inner chambers and to Liu Feixu’s room.

“I may have to go away for a while—if all goes well, I’ll be back by the end of the year,” he said.

“Where are you going?” Liu Feixu asked.

“To the northern frontier, to help one of my wives seize power,” Li Yu replied.

“Which wife?” Liu Feixu asked.

“A new acquaintance—just met her. I’ll introduce you when there’s time; she’s the daughter of the Eastern Hu Wolf Tribe’s chief.”

“You really are a philanderer.”

“I may be fickle, but I’m devoted—devoted to each and every one of you.”

“Can you really manage? And besides me, the others are no ordinary women—one’s even the Empress Dowager! It’s unbelievable. I’ve seen her—she’s truly beautiful.”

“You’re no less so—like Bao Si reborn.”

“So I’m a fox spirit, a femme fatale?”

“Fox spirits are wonderful—beautiful, too. If anyone calls you a fox spirit, you should say, ‘Thank you for the compliment, I hardly deserve it.’”

“You’re so funny. And what about Sister Feiyan? Still no word?”

“Why call her ‘sister’? She’s not older than you.”

“So you think I’m old?”

“If you’re old, then I must be ancient.”

“You’re such a sweet talker. You weren’t like this when I first met you.”

“That’s because your beauty left me speechless. I really was afraid, that day I fainted, that the beauty who rescued me wouldn’t be you, but some ugly woman.”

“Are you satisfied now?”

“Very much so. It’s late—let’s make the most of our time.” With that, he swept Liu Feixu into his arms and carried her to bed.

Li Yu didn’t know why he was so easily aroused, as if he had endless strength. Perhaps he should see a doctor—he feared he might burn out before his time. Thinking of doctors brought Jinghu Lake to mind—ah, that damned kidney.

Just past the hour of the rabbit, the sky began to lighten.

Li Yu reached for the space beside him.

“You’re awake!” Liu Feixu, dressed in her flowing purple gown, glided over gracefully.

“Madam, you’re up early,” Li Yu said.

“Breakfast is ready—come eat, it’s getting cold.”

“Yes, the weather is turning. Winter on the northern frontier won’t be easy.”

“Yet you still go,” Liu Feixu said.

“It’s precisely because it’s harsh that success is possible.”

“Be careful. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Don’t worry—your husband is clever, you know.”

“Show off.”

It was mid-morning by the time Li Yu finally strolled out of Fragrant Pavilion, looking every bit the patron who had stayed the night.