The young immortal attendants in Bihua Lingjun’s residence all felt that their master was edging closer to the Immortal-Execution Platform with each passing day.
Their faces were drawn with worry, and they lived in constant dread.
Take that very morning, for example. Emperor Danzhu had once again slept late. On rising, he still looked rather languid, but he also seemed filled with an unusual happiness and contentment.
Danzhu emerged onto the veranda. Bihua Lingjun had not gone out that day and was sitting in the central courtyard. A little leopard was dozing curled up on his lap, its two chubby forepaws clasped around a flowing-cloud jade pendant at Bihua’s waist. It held the pendant’s tassel between its teeth and snored softly while Bihua gently scratched its belly.
Standing beside a pillar, Yunqing saw Danzhu watching his master. A smile seemed to rise unbidden to the emperor’s lips. He descended the steps and walked toward Bihua.
When Danzhu reached Bihua’s side, Bihua raised his head. Danzhu met his eyes and smiled again, then sat down pressed close beside him and reached out to stroke the little leopard’s belly along with him.
The hairs on Yunqing’s body rose one by one by one.
But the chill Yunqing felt was nothing compared with the one that gripped Tangdi, who lay in the grass near Bihua Lingjun.
With the little plaster fox still clinging to his body, Tangdi lay listlessly in the grass, watching the spectacle to soothe his anxious heart. He saw Danzhu sit intimately beside Bihua and stroke the leopard’s belly. Then the emperor softly called him, “Qingxi.”
At first Tangdi had no idea what “Qingxi” meant. It sounded like a name, but the little leopard certainly wasn’t called Qingxi. Just then he heard Danzhu continue, “Qingxi, it makes me so happy to think that from now on I’ll be the only one who calls you that.”
Only then did Tangdi understand. Unable to stop the fur along his spine from standing on end, he shuddered so hard that he nearly shook the plaster fox off his body. The little fox squirmed and immediately stuck itself to him again.
Later, whenever Bihua stood, Danzhu stood with him; whenever Bihua sat, Danzhu sat beside him. Finally, when Chisheng went to serve tea in the front hall, he saw his master lift the teapot to refill the emperor’s cup. Danzhu held the cup, gazed deeply into Bihua’s eyes for a long moment, and only then drank his tea.
It was over. If Bihua and Danzhu had been carrying on in secret before, from that day onward they had suddenly become an openly affectionate, inseparable couple.
Yunqing, Chisheng, and the other young attendants ran around in circles. “What if someone discovers it and the Jade Emperor sentences His Lordship to the Immortal-Execution Platform?”
The spirit beasts lay about sighing. Geyue and the others sighed without speaking, while the black tortoise stuck half his head out of his shell and lamented, “Once this thing called love takes hold, it’s like being bewitched by a demon. There’s no curing it.”
With the plaster fox hanging off him, Tangdi said, “Doing, well, that sort of thing with His Imperial Majesty must be a serious offense. Still, the emperor’s immortal rank is so high that if he really has fallen hopelessly in love with our lord, perhaps the Jade Emperor won’t do anything.” His tail smacked the grass. “But that’s only a perhaps.”
The young attendants were not equipped to bear such grave matters and were nearly in tears. “What are we to do? Is there anyone who could help His Lordship and the emperor break this terrible enchantment?”
No one answered.
They thought it over from every angle, but there truly was no one who could help. Emperor Donghua had always loved lending a hand, yet back when Song Yao Yuanjun and Hengwen Qingjun were having their forbidden affair, even Bihua Lingjun and Emperor Donghua together had been unable to do much. This time there would only be Donghua. Naturally, it was impossible.
If they could not count on Emperor Donghua, still less could they count on any other immortal.
Chisheng said, “When mortals on earth run into trouble, they call on Heaven for help. But we’re already in Heaven. Who are we supposed to call on?”
Perhaps some nameless immortal energy drifting through the Ninth Heaven heard Chisheng’s lament, for an immortal who could help actually appeared out of nowhere.
It happened the following day. Danzhu was once more sitting beside Bihua Lingjun, finding things to chat about. To the young attendants, the scene looked like another display of tender affection.
Bihua had already settled on a strategy. He knew that Danzhu’s enthusiasms never lasted, and this was surely just a passing fancy. So he was determined to rely on one word: delay. He would put matters off again and again until Danzhu lost interest, and then the entire business would blow over.
Danzhu, for his part, was supremely confident of winning Bihua over. From the moment of his birth he had occupied an exalted position; later he had attained the lofty rank of immortal emperor. Few could surpass him in standing, and still fewer could best him. Apart from a setback over the white peacock he had taken a fancy to, scarcely anything in his life had failed to go his way.
As far as that white peacock was concerned, Danzhu thought, those days were long gone. He was a different person now, someone who understood restraint. For example, when he had learned the other night that Bihua’s original Daoist name was Ruyi, he had desperately wanted to laugh at it. But he had forced himself to hold back, saying instead with deep tenderness, “That name truly is… ahem. The mortal who gave it to you had no judgment at all. You should just pretend that name never existed. Qingxi, I shall call you Qingxi, and nothing else.” Bihua’s expression had turned rather stiff and peculiar. Danzhu concluded that he had been so moved that he was embarrassed to show it.
Besides, Bihua’s temperament was nothing like the white peacock’s. He was easygoing, and every so often a slippery, teasing remark would escape his mouth that made Danzhu feel he had found a kindred spirit. Bihua was handsome and manly, not Danzhu’s usual preference: Danzhu had always liked delicate, scholarly-looking beauties. But in the past few days, the more Danzhu looked at Bihua, the more pleasing he found him, until everything about him seemed lovable. Danzhu believed this was love.
They were well matched in looks and temperament. Danzhu also adored all the lovely little spirit beasts in Bihua’s garden, so they even shared the same interests. After considering the matter from these angles, Danzhu felt that he and Bihua must surely be the most perfectly suited couple in all Heaven.
And so, with Danzhu sincere in his affections and Bihua merely humoring him and drawing things out, each worked toward his own cherished hopes. In the gentle breeze Danzhu smiled, Bihua smiled back, and Danzhu reached for the teapot to pour him a cup. Just as Bihua lifted his teacup, a young attendant arrived to report, “Your Imperial Majesty, my lord, Heavenly Lord Huaguang of Lingzhang Palace has come to pay his respects to His Majesty.”
Bihua Lingjun hurriedly rose. “Show him in at once.”
Heavenly Lord Huaguang governed Lingzhang Palace and rarely appeared in public. In Bihua’s countless years in Heaven, he had met him only a handful of times. Immortals of every rank had been coming to pay their respects to Danzhu, but Huaguang had never appeared. Only now did Bihua recall that this particular lord had not yet visited.
“Hmm? Another little immortal?” Danzhu said. “Have him come here.” The attendant obeyed. When the figure he led into the courtyard appeared, Danzhu glanced over casually, then went rigid.
Bihua had been about to rise and greet Huaguang when he saw the heavenly lord stop a short distance away. Danzhu’s face was filled with astonishment as he slowly stood. Their eyes met, and the air around them seemed suddenly to churn with complicated, unseen currents.
The hem of Heavenly Lord Huaguang’s silver-white immortal robes stirred in the mild breeze. His refined, gentle face appeared calm, yet seemed to conceal emotions impossible to put into words.
Bihua suddenly understood. If he remembered correctly, Heavenly Lord Huaguang’s original form was a white peacock.
There was a sensible saying among mortals: never talk about someone behind their back. Sure enough, no sooner had Bihua heard His Majesty recount his tragic old romance with the one he could never obtain than the object of that thwarted longing appeared at his door.
Bihua Lingjun watched with great interest as a wide-eyed Danzhu walked step by step out of the pavilion. The silver-white figure moved a few steps forward too, and a soft, elegant voice drifted over. “Your Imperial Majesty, it has been several years. Have you been well?”
Danzhu stopped before him and stared straight into his eyes. “Baihua… you… you came to see me. You don’t resent me anymore?”