One day in Sandalwood Pavilion.
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The floating world is like drifting clouds. Faintly, one hears strings and pipes above the ninth heaven. There is always someone who will tighten his grasp upon your hand without the slightest restraint, as though one day snow fell over Jiangnan and there were only the two of them beneath it.
Ice had formed over the Qinhuai River, and Phoenix Mountain was covered in white. He held his hand and would not let go. Together they gazed across a snow-covered Jiangnan, warm and gentle beneath the scattered flakes.
He lowered his head and saw the sword mark gradually disappearing beneath the snow. A trace of panic rose in him, and he bent down to search for the writing. His fingers touched the snow, but it was not icy. It was warm. In a flicker of light and shadow, the whole world suddenly seemed blood-red, apricot blossoms spreading across heaven and earth, and he woke with a start. The song in the dream ended. His eyes opened abruptly to the dark grain of sandalwood above him. Looking more closely, it resembled the bones of plum branches.
The morning mist had not yet dispersed. The sky was still dim, though it was clearly going to be a fine day. Faint early light seeped into Sandalwood Pavilion. Behind the hanging gauze, the figure on the bed stirred and pushed himself slightly upright. By now he could see most things clearly. Waking from the dream, he still felt chill seep into his bones. His body had always feared the cold. He reached for the fox fur and drew it over himself. “Liuzhu?”
His qi and blood had not yet settled after waking, and he coughed painfully. Frowning, he hid beneath the warm fur and leaned back against the bed, his hair still unbound. Looking out from behind the gauze, he saw the wooden door move, but the person who entered was not Liuzhu.
He clearly saw the figure in imperial yellow come quietly inside, yet still refused to say so. Li Congjia remained still, lowered his eyes, and said, “Tea.”
He watched the man silently go to pour tea for him, test that it was still warm, then bring it over with relief. Li Congjia reached out vaguely to take it, but the other man instead caught his hand and placed it securely between his own fingers. “Awake this early?”
Li Congjia could plainly see him lean closer, but ignored him and simply held the tea while allowing himself to be inspected. “Your Majesty is early today as well. It is not yet time for my medicine.” He lowered his head slightly to drink, still tucked beneath the fox fur. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a smile appear on Zhao Kuangyin’s face. “I was awake all night with government affairs and could not sleep this morning either, so I came to see you.” Without caring whether he was welcome, Zhao Kuangyin sat beside the bed and stared at him. Li Congjia had not minded at first, but then he saw Zhao Kuangyin watching his eyes without moving. Afraid he might notice something, Li Congjia reached for the silk band. Zhao Kuangyin covered his arm instead and pulled him firmly into his embrace. Seeing that pale face turn aside in displeasure, he laughed. “Your body is cold. Let me warm you. Will the Marquis rest a little longer?”
Li Congjia could not be bothered to speak. He closed his eyes and leaned against Zhao Kuangyin’s shoulder. The warmth of Zhao Kuangyin’s body was simply too tempting. Once he warmed up, his whole body felt much more comfortable, and Li Congjia smiled into his embrace. Zhao Kuangyin sensed that his mind was calm today and that even his complexion had improved somewhat, so he deliberately tipped sideways, taking Li Congjia down onto the bed with him. Beneath the long silver fox fur, Li Congjia’s black hair spread across the bedding. Zhao Kuangyin held him tightly with both arms and wound the ends of his hair around his fingers.
As expected, the aloof man immediately raised his head unhappily and tried to move farther away. “Let go.” His dark double pupils were deep, and their rolling around had disordered his hair across his face. Zhao Kuangyin simply refused to release him. His overbearing tone made the pale figure nearly choke with anger. “I will not let go. What are you going to do about it?”
He blew softly, gently scattering the strands of hair across Li Congjia’s face, pale as jade.
The man in his eyes raised a brow, clearly doing it on purpose. Li Congjia was utterly helpless. He looked away toward the space behind Zhao Kuangyin, remembered the snow of Jiangnan from his dream, and suddenly felt a little guilty. Without caring anymore, he reached out too and held Zhao Kuangyin tightly. Sure enough, surprise appeared on Zhao Kuangyin’s face. Li Congjia smiled inwardly, but when he spoke his voice was flat, without the slightest ripple. “Your Majesty has worked through the night. If you are not tired, then let us remain like this.”
“I am tired, so I need to rest.”
Li Congjia had just been about to say that in that case Zhao Kuangyin should return and rest earlier when the man leaned over and sealed his lips. Bright imperial yellow filled his vision. His breath was stolen, and he could no longer see anything else clearly. One arm was pinned uncomfortably beneath Zhao Kuangyin, and he could not break free. He tried to move and rise, but Zhao Kuangyin pressed his whole body down over him. That struggling finally shattered the last of his restraint. Zhao Kuangyin’s hand slid beneath the silver fox fur. Li Congjia had only just awakened and wore nothing but a plain white inner robe. The hand followed the open collar inward and met skin cold to the touch.
“Still this cold…” Zhao Kuangyin released his mouth and, with obvious concern, repeatedly rubbed his palm over the pale jade of Li Congjia’s waist. Li Congjia immediately shuddered and pushed at him. “You… should go back and rest earlier. Do not… ah!” Zhao Kuangyin laughed softly. The moment his hand touched the bones of Li Congjia’s waist, he could not bear it. Li Congjia shrank inward at once, sensitive enough that the silver fur spread beneath him rippled. Zhao Kuangyin caught his hand and pulled him back into his arms. “This is where I came to rest… It is still early. Liuzhu probably has not even risen yet. It is fine.”
His inner robe had fallen into disorder. He had always been so thin that the bones of his shoulders showed clearly. Those words visibly angered Li Congjia. Was Sandalwood Pavilion supposed to be a place where the emperor came to bestow personal favor upon him? “Zhao Kuangyin! What do you mean?”
The man sighed and kissed the side of his neck. “No… You always think everything through too clearly. It only exhausts your mind. Then you get angry and your health worsens again.”
Zhao Kuangyin lifted his wrist and kissed it. The faint mark there was still an old wound, and regret clearly showed on Zhao Kuangyin’s face. “That day I acted out of temper. Such a beautiful wrist…” He lingered over it again and again, but Li Congjia remembered that day as well and abruptly tried to pull his hand away. Zhao Kuangyin stopped him. Neither would release the other. A hard-edged ornament hanging from Zhao Kuangyin’s imperial crown scraped Li Congjia when he finally yanked his hand back in irritation. He gave a small cry as a thin line of blood opened along the side of his palm. At the sight of it, Zhao Kuangyin refused even more firmly to let go. He tore off the imperial crown and flung it to the floor without caring that gold, jade, and dragon pearls scattered everywhere. He immediately bent to inspect the injury. “Congjia… do not move.”
His other hand moved downward with the motion. This time Li Congjia truly did not dare move. Zhao Kuangyin carefully sucked away the trace of blood. It was only a little, yet it frightened him. He could not bear to see Li Congjia bleed again. What happened in the imperial city of Jinling had genuinely terrified him. That almost weightless figure vomiting out his heart-blood had been horrifying, and the memory often left him unable to rest.
Li Congjia’s breathing grew heavier. Zhao Kuangyin’s hand loosened the clothing at his abdomen. He was always astonished by what kind of land and water Jiangnan possessed to produce someone so exquisitely formed in every respect. One movement of those shoulder bones was enough to destroy his restraint. “Congjia…” He repeated the name, yet sensed that Li Congjia still was not accustomed to this kind of intimacy and wanted to retreat. The wound on his hand was insignificant, but Zhao Kuangyin had truly been frightened by this man. He feared that if Li Congjia became unhappy and said something sharp, he might somehow be hurt again. Out of the corner of his eye, Zhao Kuangyin noticed the soft silk band Li Congjia normally wore over his eyes and reached for it.
Li Congjia could see every movement he made but could not reveal his surprise. He watched Zhao Kuangyin lift his hands and begin wrapping the band around them. His breathing grew more hurried. Instinctively, the pale figure wanted to evade him, but then remembered that he could not let Zhao Kuangyin discover he could see. He forced himself to remain rigid until Zhao Kuangyin had finished tying it, then said, “Zhao Kuangyin, you…” Zhao Kuangyin’s leg brushed between his, and heat rose abruptly. The overbearing man looked pleased as he bound Li Congjia’s two hands together with a knot. “Behave… You cannot see. I do not want you hitting something and hurting yourself again.” Li Congjia endured it for a long while before finally struggling hard. “Zhao Kuangyin, let me go!”
“I am not trying to humiliate you… Will you trust me?” Zhao Kuangyin’s fingers gently loosened both their clothes, while the silver fox fur remained wrapped around Li Congjia. “Zhao Kuangyin!” The rest of Li Congjia’s words would not come. His hands could no longer move, pinned above him. He had just tried to question him angrily when the heat brought by Zhao Kuangyin’s fingers dissolved his thoughts before they could form. “You…”
“Trust me. I am not trying to make you suffer… Trust me, Congjia…” Zhao Kuangyin murmured beside his ear without stopping his touch. Li Congjia immediately froze and let out a soft sound, yet Zhao Kuangyin stubbornly continued asking, “Trust me… just this once… all right?”
Never before had Li Congjia allowed himself to appear so vulnerable while restrained, and never had anyone dared treat him this way. Only this man. Heaven and earth alike seemed held within Zhao Kuangyin’s hand. Back then, when he said he wanted the realm, he had refused to yield even an inch.
Today, when he said he wanted Li Congjia, he was just as impossible to question.
Li Congjia could not stop trembling. The warmth above him was too intense and too difficult to abandon. Again and again Zhao Kuangyin asked the same thing: trust me, let everything go and give it to me…
Those double pupils, dark and bewitching enough to entrance a heart, finally lowered as Li Congjia nodded in silent agreement.
Zhao Kuangyin lost what little restraint remained. He found the places where Li Congjia was weakest and lingered there, repeatedly touching along the bones of his waist. Li Congjia bit his lip and closed his eyes. He could only feel Zhao Kuangyin’s heavy breathing against his face, fingers tracing downward while lips lingered near his ear. Heat flooded Li Congjia’s entire body. Zhao Kuangyin touched him lower with a particularly infuriating tone. “Now… you are finally a little warmer. Otherwise if you become cold again later, then…”
“You… ah! Zhao Kuangyin…”
His hand continued moving. Li Congjia kept trying to retreat, but his waist was unbearably sensitive beneath Zhao Kuangyin’s palm. “Let go, Zhao Kuangyin…” The final words dissolved into something close to a low gasp. Zhao Kuangyin lowered his head and watched the rise and fall of his abdomen, then sighed helplessly at the clear scars. “Congjia, these wounds… they were all my fault…”
Only fingertips. With the lightest movement of his fingertips, Zhao Kuangyin teased across the skin below Li Congjia’s chest. The barely-there touches were almost maddening. In the end Li Congjia could not suppress a low moan. He tried to push Zhao Kuangyin away, only to remember that the silk band held his hands fast and he could no longer move them. He could only endure it. “Mm…”
Zhao Kuangyin’s fingers moved over him. “Are you cold?”
Li Congjia shook his head with effort. His hair had gone damp against his cheeks, a fine sheen of sweat appearing. Zhao Kuangyin’s hand moved slowly behind him, while the faint scent of red sandalwood strangely spread again around Li Congjia. Rarely, he softened completely in Zhao Kuangyin’s embrace and could not move. Beneath his long hair he looked almost helpless. All he could do was lift his arms around Zhao Kuangyin’s neck, his bound hands behind it, and yank him downward with a trace of anger. Their mouths met roughly. It was the only revenge available to him. His whole body tensed when he clearly felt Zhao Kuangyin slide a finger inside him, and Li Congjia could not help furrowing his brows.
“Call me Yin…” Zhao Kuangyin murmured close beside him, repeatedly forcing him to the edge of retreat while leaving him nowhere to evade. Within the small space of the bed, intimacy became a song, broken words no longer forming complete phrases. “Congjia, call me Yin…”
Li Congjia refused to answer. Zhao Kuangyin gently stroked his hair, taking in those clean, almost childlike brows and eyes and the faint scent of red sandalwood. His tone became especially coaxing and seductive. He shifted against him. “Will you call my name…”
Li Congjia opened his eyes in confusion, dark ink blooming deep within them. Zhao Kuangyin’s long kisses fell through his damp hair. At last Li Congjia spoke. “Yin…”
Morning light had clearly grown brighter, yet Sandalwood Pavilion was filled with tangled warmth. White silk bound his pale, slender wrists, and dark marks twined over the bones of his frame. With each movement they deepened near the collarbones. Zhao Kuangyin lingered there, loving the elegant lines of Li Congjia’s body. Even his wrists carried an almost unbearable grace. Hearing that low call of his name, Zhao Kuangyin could no longer suppress the sound in his throat. Almost crazed, he held Li Congjia down against the bed and lost the last of his control, fingers tangling in his hair.
Li Congjia’s pearl-pale body visibly went rigid. Zhao Kuangyin sealed his lips, swallowing the startled cry in his throat. When Zhao Kuangyin entered him, Li Congjia could not relax at all, so the forceful man could only lift his upper body slightly and cover him with close, lingering kisses. Skin pressed against skin, every inch of closeness only made him want more. He had to hold Li Congjia tightly, almost beyond control, as though heaven and earth might be destroyed if he loosened his embrace for even an instant.
Their disordered hair mingled across the brocade bed like black plum blossoms. Red sandalwood was the scent of Li Congjia’s very bones, growing clearer and heavier. Zhao Kuangyin wound himself around him and allowed no retreat. As he pressed closer step by step, Li Congjia felt the rising heat of his body burn even more painfully into the heart. Yet stubbornness rose in him too. Even through the dull pain, he suddenly held Zhao Kuangyin’s shoulders and refused to let go.
If he could have let go, he would have done so long ago. They would never have reached this point. Li Congjia could clearly see the near-madness in Zhao Kuangyin’s eyes, and an unspeakable ache filled his heart. One by one, sensations long numbed slowly awakened under Zhao Kuangyin’s control. Somehow this winter morning became so warm that tears escaped before he could stop them.
Every time they reached such a moment, Zhao Kuangyin saw his tears. For whom was he grieving? In this one unforgettable instant of abandoning restraint, Li Congjia lowered his head against Zhao Kuangyin’s shoulder to hide his wet, chilled eyes. “Yin…”
His hands could not move, and his body too was held completely within Zhao Kuangyin’s grasp, overwhelmed by wave after wave. Yet at this moment he felt exceptionally at peace. He no longer needed to sustain anyone’s faith or admiration. The so-called brilliance that left the world astonished was only an ordinary human being after all.
Before Zhao Kuangyin, it seemed all right to show a little weakness. At last he did not have to carry so much weight. Heat surged from his abdomen through every limb and bone until he could no longer keep silent. Zhao Kuangyin supported his body with one hand without stopping, while the other tilted his face upward. Such beautiful bearing, elegant yet restrained. He kissed Li Congjia’s lashes one by one. Mine. All of him is mine. He still envied the smile Li Congjia had worn while holding that peony when they first met.
Li Congjia’s breathing broke apart. Near the edge of collapse, he could only clutch at the hair behind Zhao Kuangyin’s neck and tremble. At moments like this he always shook uncontrollably, his pearl-pale skin covered with the possessive traces the other man had left upon him. Zhao Kuangyin suddenly lowered him back onto the bed. Neither of them could restrain themselves. Li Congjia’s hoarse sound made guilt flicker through Zhao Kuangyin. “Shh…” He gently urged him to relax so he would not be hurt, while bone-deep warmth and pleasure came in relentless waves that tormented both their minds.
“I do not want to hurt you… Congjia… I never wanted to hurt you. I only cannot let go…” As everything drew close to blankness, Zhao Kuangyin’s breath left the elegant man beneath him knowing the taste and wanting more, trembling so hard he could only rub against the brocade in search of something to hold on to. “I do not want to hurt you… ever. I want to keep you. I want you always beside me. I want to celebrate Qixi with you… I want to watch the snow fall with you every year…”
“Li Congjia…” Even his voice carried force. Zhao Kuangyin yielded not an inch, driving him to tears and holding him fast at the final moment. Li Congjia convulsed without stopping, his throat arching back in a line that remained unbearably beautiful. Zhao Kuangyin entered him fully as though he wanted to crush Li Congjia into his own body. Their feelings crossed and tangled over the disordered brocade bed, and at the very height of it Li Congjia suddenly saw Jiangnan in the third month.
Beside the Qinhuai, butterflies moved among flowers and orioles called from the trees. Jiangnan lay beneath mist and rain like ink spreading through water. By the stone bridge stood a figure in pale blue-green. In the finest spring weather, three thousand nights of rain could not compare with that one figure, clear as though freshly washed. He stood quietly at the Qinhuai bridge, his dark double pupils as deep as before.
He spoke softly. Changmen lights, fragrance along the nine roads, red sandalwood entering the song upon the wind. “Before the jade trees in the rear courtyard, before the mirror where precious grasses adorn. Last year’s flowers have not grown old; this year the moon is round again. Let nothing tilt apart. With moon and flowers together, may heaven keep us forever young.”
From far away, someone slowly approached through the peach grove. His commanding presence seemed to split open a lifetime of clear skies. He walked toward the river and came to the bridge, raising one brow slightly. There, on the bridge, the figure in blue-green looked back with gentle eyes and a smile that made the spring blossoms of the third month fall.
They drifted by boat on the Qinhuai and drank freely. Zhao Kuangyin warmed his fingertips. So Li Congjia’s hands were not made only of cold.
After everything subsided came exhaustion, and the sky grew fully bright.
At last Zhao Kuangyin untied his hands. Their fingers wound through each other’s hair and remained tightly clasped. Having gone without sleep all night, Zhao Kuangyin was exhausted as well. He wrapped the softly breathing man securely in the fox fur but did not release his hand, keeping him in his arms. The pale figure did not struggle away this time. He simply allowed himself to be held, buried against Zhao Kuangyin’s neck, and peacefully fell asleep. Let the daylight shine clear and a new day begin. Li Congjia knew only the warmth within this embrace.
Still as though within a dream, Zhao Kuangyin.
Jiangnan After Parting.
End.