Chapter 11 - A Cloak and a Scare
Yin Zhuli’s hand remained frozen atop that unexpected support, her entire body turning to stone. In the suffocating darkness of the banyan tree, the realization hit her like a physical blow: she was leaning on a man’s shoulder. Just as she felt herself losing her balance, nearly tumbling into the icy depths of Penglai Pond, a strong hand reached out to steady her.
A voice, low and resonant, vibrated so close to her ear that she could feel the warmth of his breath. It carried a hint of suppressed amusement. "Steady yourself, Head Merchant Yin."
Yin Zhuli’s heart skipped a beat. She recognized that voice instantly—it belonged to none other than the Great General, Qu Tianji. Her mind raced. When she had slipped out of the banquet hall, he had been deep in his cups, accompanying the Emperor, Shen Tingyao. How could he have reached this secluded spot before her?
Qu Tianji pulled her closer, bracing her against his chest to ensure she wouldn't slip from the gnarled branch. His frame felt like a wall of solid iron, unyielding and formidable, yet strangely grounding. "I am intimately familiar with the palace grounds," he whispered, answering her unspoken question. "Thus, I arrived a half-step ahead of you."
Leaning against him, Yin Zhuli felt a peculiar sense of security, but her mind was already pivoting. She couldn't afford to let the two lovers below continue their tryst undisturbed, especially not with the girl’s father standing right next to her. She prepared to make a noise to startle them, but Qu Tianji seemed to read her intent. He shifted his weight, using the surrounding branches to effectively pin her in place.
"Head Merchant Yin," he murmured, his voice barely a shadow of a sound. "There is a matter I find puzzling. Perhaps you could enlighten me?"
Trapped and unable to move, Yin Zhuli could only offer a wry, helpless smile. "Please, General, ask away."
Qu Tianji relaxed his grip slightly but kept her anchored against him. "During the game of *Shefu* earlier... what exactly was hidden in your palm?"
Yin Zhuli maintained a facade of wide-eyed innocence. "Why does the General ask? As you saw, it was a purple crystal. Your Excellency’s eyes are like torches; how could a mere commoner like me dare to deceive you?"
A soft, dry chuckle escaped Qu Tianji’s throat, and he tightened his hold once more, pressing her against the rough bark.
"Fine, fine! I shall speak the truth," Yin Zhuli conceded quickly. "In truth, what I held was merely a single strand of hair. Most people playing *Shefu* look for what is missing from the dealer’s person. The obvious choice would have been the pearl from my ear, as it was the most conspicuous. But for those with more meticulous minds, those who suspect a trap, they would look for something less obvious—like the crystal from my bracelet, which few would notice."
Qu Tianji narrowed his eyes in the dark. "But you left a portion of that hair visible."
Yin Zhuli’s smile turned self-deprecating. "Exactly. Because it was visible, everyone assumed it was a distraction. No one guessed it was the actual object."
Qu Tianji finally released the pressure, though he kept one arm draped loosely around her. His body radiated a steady warmth that cut through the winter chill, a sensation that aligned poignantly with the fatherly fantasies Yin Zhuli had harbored in her youth.
Below them, the conversation between the two figures reached a fever pitch. "If it comes to it, we will simply flee Chang'an!" Qu Lingyu’s voice was sharp with desperation. "We can go somewhere my father and your brother will never find us!"
"Lingyu," Shen Tingjiao’s voice was a low, pained plea. "If we flee, what becomes of the General and Madam Wei? My mother lives alone in the depths of the palace; I have already failed in my filial duties by being unable to serve at her side. How can I bring such a catastrophe upon her? And... and then there is Zhuli. I have already given her my word..."
"You!" Qu Lingyu’s silhouette lunged forward, and the sound of a dull thud echoed as she struck his chest. Shen Tingjiao let out a muffled groan but remained silent. "Your cowardice will be our undoing! If this is your resolve, then wait for the eighth day of the second month. You can come and personally welcome me into the palace on his behalf!"
Her voice broke into a sob. Without waiting for a response, she turned and fled into the darkness. Shen Tingjiao stood frozen for a long moment, sighing heavily before he, too, turned away, though he did not follow her.
The performance was over. Yin Zhuli, feeling the awkwardness of having watched a daughter’s secret affair alongside her father, cleared her throat. "General Qu, I shall take my leave."
Qu Tianji gave her shoulder a firm, brief squeeze. Suddenly, he unfastened his heavy cloak and draped it over her shoulders with meticulous care. His voice remained flat, devoid of obvious emotion. "It is cold. You should dress more warmly when you venture out."
Before she could protest, he leaped from the branch and vanished in the direction his daughter had taken. Yin Zhuli followed suit, jumping down and hurrying after Shen Tingjiao.
She caught up to him near the main hall. Shen Tingjiao, who had been looking for her with a face full of guilt, stepped forward to take her hand. Yin Zhuli pulled away coldly. "Your Highness, this is the forbidden palace. Let us not be so familiar."
Shen Tingjiao, sensing her displeasure, didn't argue. He simply reached out again and gripped her hand firmly, refusing to let go. He remained silent, but Yin Zhuli had no intention of letting the silence last. "What is this? Has the Prince finished reminiscing with his old flame and finally remembered his new interest?"
He ignored the barb, keeping his head bowed. But as he looked down, his eyes caught something. "This... whose cloak is this?"
Yin Zhuli had been prepared to give him a piece of her mind, but the question caught her off guard. She looked down and realized she was still wearing Qu Tianji’s cloak. Her blood boiled. *That old fox!*
Qu Tianji knew she would use the encounter with Qu Lingyu to provoke the Prince. By leaving his cloak with her, he had handed Shen Tingjiao a weapon to use against her—a classic case of the mantis stalking the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind. Or was it the other way around? Regardless, she had been played.
As Yin Zhuli fumed, Shen Tingjiao’s face clouded with suspicion and jealousy. He grabbed her arm, his voice rising. "You bastard! Who have you been seeing now?"
"Shh! This is the imperial palace! Watch your tongue!" Yin Zhuli hissed, quickly unwrapping the cloak and covering his mouth with her hand.
Shen Tingjiao struggled, but she pinned him against a stone wall, whispering urgently. "It’s not what you think. This cloak... I saw you were dressed too lightly when you left, so I asked a palace attendant for a spare. I went to Penglai Pond to find you but missed you. I only just got back. What on earth are you imagining? If someone hears you, they’ll think I’m some sort of degenerate!"
Shen Tingjiao eyed her skeptically for a long moment. "Truly?"
Yin Zhuli glared at him. "Do I get a prize for lying to you?"
As they stood there, Qu Tianji returned with Qu Lingyu in tow. The girl looked like a chastened kitten, following submissively behind her father, not daring to even glance at Shen Tingjiao. The General, however, offered a knowing nod and a faint smile toward the bickering pair as he passed.
The banquet concluded with the usual displays of imperial grace. As the officials began to filter out, led by palace lanterns, the quiet white-stone paths became crowded. Qu Tianji was surrounded by a throng of sycophants, yet he intentionally slowed his pace to walk alongside Yin Zhuli.
The General’s cloak was still draped over her arm, and she clearly had no intention of returning it just yet. He didn't ask for it. Instead, he asked, "How is the Dowager Madam Yin?"
Yin Zhuli’s eyes curved into a bright, fake smile. "She is quite well."
*Well enough to curse your name for eight hours a day,* she thought. *The only reason she stops for the other four is to eat and sleep.*
As they walked, the surrounding officials cast suggestive glances at the cloak on Yin Zhuli’s arm. Shen Tingjiao, who had been walking with General Fu An discussing cockfighting, noticed the shift in the atmosphere. Seeing the looks directed at his fiancée and the General, he immediately abandoned Fu An and shoved his way between Qu Tianji and Yin Zhuli.
He grabbed Yin Zhuli’s hand, but as he went to speak, he noticed the embroidery on the cloak’s collar: the Nine Luminaries. It was the unmistakable mark of the Great General of Great Xing.
Before he could explode, Yin Zhuli spoke in a voice as cold as the winter air. "If you say one more word about this cloak, I will throw you into Penglai Pond. See if I don't."
Qu Tianji, whose skin was thicker than a city wall after years of campaigning, showed no sign of retreating. Shen Tingjiao was fuming. "Every time you can't maintain a lie, you resort to threats!"
"You're still talking?" Yin Zhuli’s eyes flashed. Without warning, she scooped him up in a bridal carry and began marching toward the pond.
Shen Tingjiao panicked, his limbs flailing. "You bastard! Put me down! Let go!"
She stepped onto a jagged rock by the water’s edge. The light from the lanterns was dim here, casting long, eerie shadows. She leaned in, her voice dropping to a haunting whisper. "Don't move. If I lose my footing, we’re both going in."
Shen Tingjiao flinched at the proximity of her breath against his ear. "Put me down, now!"
Instead, Yin Zhuli leaned down and pressed her lips against his. Shen Tingjiao froze as if struck by lightning. She had been drinking, and her breath carried the faint, sweet scent of wine mixed with the refreshing sting of mint. Her kiss was uncharacteristically gentle, like a spring breeze over a wheat field. Shen Tingjiao, who had also indulged in the banquet's spirits, felt his resolve crumbling. His breathing grew heavy, and his body betrayed his arousal.
Suddenly, Yin Zhuli pulled away and set him down, her hand grazing his "rogue general" in a deliberate, lingering touch. Shen Tingjiao’s face flushed with a mix of fury and embarrassment, and he swiped her hand away.
Yin Zhuli acted as if nothing had happened. "By the way, have you heard the legends of Penglai Pond?"
Shen Tingjiao, still reeling from her touch, answered distractedly. "What legends?"
She wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him toward the water to look at their reflections. "Did you never wonder? The last Emperor of Northern Zhao was a decadent man. He had over three thousand concubines and countless servants. When the dynasty fell... where do you think they went?"
Shen Tingjiao, naive by nature, stared into the black, murky water. "Where?"
Yin Zhuli bared her teeth in a ghoulish grin. "They are all down there, at the bottom of this lake. Every night when the moon is hidden and the wind is high, they crawl out to find passersby. They have become vengeful ghosts, seeking lives to replace their own..."
Her voice grew increasingly macabre. Shen Tingjiao began to tremble, whether from the cold or sheer terror. "Yin... Yin Zhuli?"
She leaned closer, her voice a hollow, ghostly wail. "It is so cold in the lake. There are only women and eunuchs down there; they haven't seen a real man in decades. They have spent countless years with only their fingers for company. They are so very lonely... A beautiful man like you, with such a... substantial gift... the sisters would surely love you..."
She slowly raised her hand, her fingers curling into a claw-like shape as she reached for his face. The alcohol in Shen Tingjiao’s system turned into a cold sweat. His face went pale with terror. As the "claw" neared his eyes, he let out a blood-curdling shriek. "GHOSTS!"
He turned tail and bolted, running blindly away from the water.
In the days that followed, Advisor He Jian found himself deeply puzzled. Ever since the date for Qu Lingyu’s wedding had been set, Prince Fulu had taken to moping by the manor’s pond, ignoring all attempts to cheer him up. But after the palace banquet, the Prince wouldn't go within ten yards of any body of water.
When He Jian tried to probe for the reason, Yin Zhuli would simply stretch lazily and laugh. "It is merely a bit of bedroom play, nothing for outsiders to fret over."
However, one night, the Prince had a nightmare. Through the bedroom door, his terrified voice could be heard echoing through the halls: "You’ve used your fingers for so many years, can't you just keep using them? If they're too small, use a leg bone! Just stay away from me!"
***
