The village of Xian raptured with the life of a new day. Villagers toiled away in their gardens at the first glow of sunrise. Children helped pick rooted crops while their parents plucked fruits from trees. Woodworkers, cloth spinners, and leather makers all worked in the cool morning just outside their quaint, humble homes. Elderly women knitted in hunched over positions. Ceramics artists and blacksmiths stoied away in small workshops in the back of their land. Each villager greeted one another with a respective smile, often with gifts of food and goods.
Yuanji walked through the residential streets, studying every fiber of the system’s makeup. An alien feeling lingered over her as she watched the people of her own village. She knew none of them. Not their families or their trade. Not even a single name. She watched them work away their busy schedules, understanding a small degree of what Sima Yi said about her ‘having it good’. Still, field work seemed vastly more favorable to her than a lifetime of wifely servitude. Yuanji watched the people work with smiles on their dusty faces as they weaved a tightly knit society with both their families, as well as with the society of the village. Yuanji contemplated saying something, a greeting or an admiration of their work, but reserved the possibility of drawing too much attention to her presence.
The aroma of freshly soaked vegetables wafted into the street. Yuanji beheld a young man feeding his elderly mother beneath a small courtyard, complete with shading and a garden. Cows sang. Mules plowed. Hens raced across the street in hectic patterns. A small girl chased several of the poultry around the front of her home and into the street. One hen raced up to Yuanji. The princess jumped back initially, but bent down to catch the hen before it could escape. The young girl ran up to Yuanji, staring back at her in confused wonder.
“Hello,” Yuanji said sweetly, crouching to meet the girl at eye level. The girl paused, only staring back at Yuanji.
“H… hello,” the child answered.
“What’s your name?” Yuanji asked clearly. The hidden princess held the hen firmly in her hands. The small girl paused another response. From behind her, a woman in a messy apron stepped out from the open doorway.
“Cao Lee, coup the hens,” the woman ordered, her face covered in flour and sweat. The hen in Yuanji’s hand began to violently flap its wings. It startled Yuanji into nearly dropping it, but Cao Lee reached out and took it calmly from Yuanji’s grasp.
“Thank you,” said Yuanji, giggling to herself. “It was nice meeting you.” The girl stood and brushed off her robe. Cao Lee started to hurry back inside with the hen in hand, but turned to part from Yuanji with a bow. Yuanji returned the gesture with a smile and watch the young girl flee with the feathered racer.
Yuanji carried onward. The tightly wound street basked in favor and respect. The people wore robes stained with dirt, hands rough with hard work, but nothing felt more free or liberating to Yuanji than a life made for oneself. She passed others going about their lives with smiles and intrigue. Several farmers loaded carts, while others rode theirs down the far road toward the marketplace. Yuanji followed the path, eager to see what else the village could offer her.
The disguised princess made her way into the heart of Xian. Come full sunrise, the market had fully exploded with its daily surge of activity. The streets flooded with merchants and travelers. People shouted about their wares and trade, selling nearly everything from jewelry to tea kettles. Yuanji wandered through the streets much slower than she noticed others rushing through. She started keeping her head low to avoid being spotted, but quickly noticed how little attention was being paid to her. People rushed to and from her on either sides, going about their lives as if she was no more special than the next villager. Yuanji smiled, carrying on through the market.
The princess examined freshly picked crops. She carried on one sided conversations with a family of pigs and fed them seed from her hand. Yuanji inspected different teas to buy with a colorful array of kettles and cups. The girl carried on, watching painters bring beautiful landscapes to life right in front of her and performers to wow her with their unique talents. Truly the village was a place of a life to be lived. While Yuanji knew of a world beyond even that, what Xian had to offer her journey was simply more than she could have ever hoped to see.
Her forward motion through the market was brought to a halt. Yuanji stopped as she witnessed several village children rushing past her. They laughed and cheered, running toward the village square.
“They caught her,” one said.
“The stocks,” cheered another.
“Let’s get her.” The children darted down the busy street, out of Yuanji’s eye. The girl adjusted her pack and set off in their direction.
She soon came up to a crowd of people all huddled around the square. They laughed and hollered boisterously, some deep in drink. The children from the market pushed through to the center of the commotion. The village square was lit ablaze with untamed laughter and frolic. One laugh appeared as a constant and sang out much louder than the rest. Yuanji approached the crowd. She peered through with mere slivers of vision on what everyone was jesting toward.
“AAAAAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! SSSTTTAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHPPPP!! NNNNNAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHOOO MOOORREEEEEHAHAHAHAHAH!!!” the laughter of a young woman roared over the crowd. In the center of the square, a small platform held a set of steel reinforced wooden stocks. Inside, the bellowing girl sat with her wrists bound to her sides and her feet sticking out of the round grooves. Her feet in the stocks were bared and in a pristine, soft pink condition, vulnerable to all who surveyed her humiliation. At them, two young boys near Yuanji’s age toyed with her soles with vigorous tickles.
“Tickle, tickle, tickle!” The boys sang. The girl herself wore dark red hair that swayed back and forth. Her lips parted in a wide, open mouth smile. Tears raced down two rosey cheeks. Her voice was angelic and welcoming, even as she laughed. She appeared immaculately ticklish. Her feet swayed in their binds, yet could never escape the torment thrust upon them.
“Get her good!” one spectator said.
“Tickle the thief!” called another. Yuanji pushed herself through the crowd to the front. Wide eyed, she watched the marvel unfold with breathless wonder. The girl laughed loudly, desperately. She appeared to have been suffering hours, if not days, of constant tickle torture just as Sima Yi had described. Beside the girl, a sign read ‘Tickle the thief! Punish them as much as you want!’. Yuanji could only watch in a smiling awe as the punishment continued.
“Alright boys, let someone else have a turn,” called a woman from the crowd. The two boys raced their shallow nails against the girl’s sweat slicked soles in one final rapid assault before pulling away. Yuanji watched the girl hunched over in complete exhaustion. Her face dripped. Her cheeks glowed like waning suns. As she laid slumped in her seat, panting, Yuanji noticed a faint smile against her lips and a noticeable glimmer in her eye.
“Me next, me next,” chanted a girl of budding adolescence in the front row. The woman standing next to her, holding her hand, along with that of a slightly younger boy, bent down.
“Okay, but take your brother,” said the woman. “You two have fun, but keep in mind other people waiting.” The girl led her brother up to the stocks. She lifted the boy to put him at face level with the thief’s blushing soles. The girl wore an eager grin while the boy appeared confused at the most present.
“Okay, Taiyo, you just take your fingers and do this,” the girl mimicked a scratching motion with her hand in the air. The boy copied after a moment of silent consideration. “Good, now do that to her feet like this.” The girl brought one scribbling set of fingers down onto the thief’s left sole. The girl in the stocks exploded again with mad, ticklish laughter.
“EEEEKKKKKahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!! Nnnnnnnaaaaaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!” The tortured girl squealed. Yuanji watched the way that her feet flopped back and forth in the stocks. Her toes wiggled, spreading and clenching with wild abandon. The boy copied his sister, pressing his fingers into her other sole. He raced his fingers carelessly against her flushed, hyper-ticklish skin.
“That’s it, you got it,” the sister said. “Now really make her laugh.” The sister sped up her fingers, moving up from the thief's pearly heel across her arch. The stocked prisoner’s suffering increased with her laughter.
“NNNNNAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! WWAAIITTTHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! SSSTTTAAAAHAHAHAHAHAPPP!!” The beautiful thief screamed. Her head thrashed back and forth, tossing her emberous hair side to side. The boy caught onto his actions and began laughing at her reactions. He soon added both of his sets of fingers to torture the girl’s sensitive, defenceless sole. Where the boy lacked in experience in the art of tickle torture, he made up in with enthusiasm. The thief responded with supreme ticklishness regardless. The boy’s sister tickled with a single expert hand, raking her nails from the base of her bubbly toes down to her heel. The crowd continued to laugh and gawk.
“Teach her a lesson,” one man called out. Yuanji’s attention was thusly turned to the audience. She watched them encourage the girl’s ticklish torment with complete disregard to her suffering. It played out much like a performance, a game to see who could get the girl to laugh the loudest. Yuanji watched parents bring their children to spectate and participate, telling them to wait their turn. She watched people older than she spit juvenile insults to the thief, fully invested in her humiliation. Yuanji saw what Sima Yi had spoken to her about, how cruel it seemed to encourage such punishment. Though she could feel the negative energy from the crowd, she found herself smiling nonetheless. Yuanji started to laugh along with the crowd. Soon after, she began to add her own commentary to the barrage of cheers.
“Tickle her,” Yuanji said softly. She squeaked. The girl raised her hands to her mouth and looked around to see if anyone had noticed what she said. She was completely ignored, a state into which Yuanji sank comfortably.
“NNNNAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! NNNOOOOO MORRREEEHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!” The theif writhed in her seat. She bounced up and down as surge after surge of tickles coursed through her body. They ate away at her composure, made a spectacle out of her. Yuanji knew that the images she painted in the minds of the onlookers would never wash away. The thief would have to walk around being known as a ticklish jester for everyone to mock. This, however, did not seem to bother the thief. While Yuanji had never witnessed a true public tickle torture before, there was less anguish in the girl’s voice than the princess would have anticipated.
“Make her beg!” Yuanji yelled, joyfully indulging a darkness within her that she had effectively leashed her entire life. The brother and sister continued torturing the girl’s sensitive soles until they blushed bright pink. The sister continued into her toes, making the thief squeal like a cornered swine.
“EEEKKKKKKKK!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! NNNAAAAHHAHAHAHATTTHHEEETTOOOESSSSHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!” The thief begged just as Yuanji requested. The siblings bonded over the public, humiliating punishment until the parent called them back.
“Alright, you two,” the mother said. “Let someone else have a turn.” Yuanji marveled at how casually some of the spectators were handling the display, complete disregard that the thief was a person undergoing torture and treating her more like an attraction for their own amusement. It all painted such a dream for Yuanji. She felt associated with the crowd, one with the people rather than as their ruler. The village square, right there in with the gaudily cheering crowd, was not a place for princess manners or wifely etiquette, but a place to release oneself freely onto the world.
“Our turn,” said a mature couple, stepping up to the stocks. Yuanji watched the girl recuperate in between turns, being passed off like a toy. She continued to laugh as she fought to catch her breath, not ticklish laughter, but gaming, competitive laughter, as if she wore an unbreakable will on the sleeve of her robe. Yuanji’s eyes were fixed on her smile. It was a smile that Sima Yi would wear when she made him laugh passively through pure enjoyment. Her smile was only undercut with more ticklish bellowing when the couple began their turn upon her soles.
“AAAAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! NNNNNOOOOOO HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! SSSTTTTAAAHHAHAHAHAHPPPP!!” The thief screamed. Yuanji heard her cries for mercy as less than genuine and more of a insincere reflex. The thief said nothing to aid her suspicions, but put on a show that drew in more of a crowd as it continued.
“Have at her, dear,” said the middle aged man at the helm. “She deserves it.”
“Oh, I will,” said the woman he brought with him. Her nails her long and sturdy, scraping and scribbling against the soft, pink flesh of her left sole. Her nails moves swiftly in light, spidering scratches. The man raked his down the length of the girl’s foot, holding it steady with the other hand. The thief screamed and screamed with manic laughter as she was played with like a toy or an instrument. Her toes wiggled in a dance most hypnotic to Yuanji. The crowd continued to cheer around her. The princess looked back at the crowd building. It was clear that the thief's punishment would not be over so soon.
Yuanji stood back and watched as more and more people came to torture the petty criminal. Couples came up to toy with the girl. Eager men approached her feet with the urge to release frustration onto her ticklish soles. Children played games with her laughter, the thief’s ticklish suffering a mere source of passive entertainment for the crowd of spectators. Yet, as Yuanji watched people come and go, as she watched the girl in the stocks wheeze and tear and sweat profusely, she detected no real hint of suffering. The thief begged for mercy on impulse, but wore not the expression of someone being tortured. Her eyes remained ablaze. Her smile was challenging and incendiary. Her soles glowed a bright pink shade with aggravated sensitivity, yet her spirit remained intact.
Slowly, the crowd began to disperse. One by one, spectators to her torment left to go about their days. Children were called back by their parents. Marketplace patrons returned to their trades. Yuanji remained, watching the last of the ruthless ticklers work their skills against the thief. It was a young girl at the stocks, easily half of her own age. She was shy, yet took an unshelled pleasure in dancing her fingers against the thief's feet for her laughter. The little girl was called back by her mother retreating back into the market. The girl gave the thief one last parting tickle before turning back. She met Yuanji’s eye on the way. The child wore the wide smile of a memory she would gladly carry with her for years.
Yuanji turned back to the thief. Finally alone, she watched the thief suck in deep breaths of air. Her body appeared weak. Yuanji knew not as to how long the thief had been there, but her expression told of at least a day of ticklish exposure. Her tired head hung low. Her hair draped over her face. Yuanji took a single step up to the girl driven by years of repressed fantasy and morbid curiosity. The disguised princess walked up to the thief carefully. The thief looked up, tossing her hair out of her face with a quick neck snap. Yuanji stopped as the thief’s eyes met hers. The exhaustion that glossed over them could not dim the starlight in their passionate majesty. Yuanji started again toward the prisoner. The thief smirked a tired smirk.
“Haven’t… seen… you around?” the thief managed between deep breaths. Yuanji paused and shot the girl a puzzled look. No one had ever approached her with such a careless, informal address. Her disguise also worked to conceal her true identity. Either that, she figured, or the fact that her father kept her shielded off from the world that no one would know who she was even without a rouse. Yuanji held herself up with proud posture.
“I am…” Yuanji said before pausing. Her regal stance and manner of forced manner of speech felt confessing. She relaxed, nervously indecisive with the placement of her arms, and spoke quietly. “... new.”
“‘New’?” the thief asked.
“Not from around here,” Yunaji said. An aching guilt came over her for lying, but thought no more of it in the presence of a criminal. Yuanji coughed. She approached the stocks within reach from the other end. “I, uh, I’m sorry for everyone here being so mean to you…” The thief’s eyes furrowed. Her lips pulled back as she imagined that her ears had deceived her.
“‘Mean to me’?” the thief said with a confused rise to her voice. “This is… not mean… It’s what’s supposed to happen.” Yuanji nodded.
“Right,” said Yuanji. “Sorry, I’m not always familiar with some things, being new and all.” The princess’s eyes fell down to the prisoner’s feet. Blushing roses stared back at her. They shined with a day’s worth of sweat. They seemed to shiver from constant, nervous stimulation. Typical in size, neither abnormally big or small, the thief’s feet seemed to smile back at her, inviting her to tickle her the way that the other had before. Her toes wore bubbly pads like sweet little cherries.
Yuanji reached out. She laid the pads of her fingers at the base of the thief’s toes. The girl retracted in a gasping squeal upon impact. Yuanji looked up, lighting up at the prisoner’s enrapturing reaction. She smiled. “But you’re right. You deserve this,” Yuanji said as she ran the tips of two fingers down the length of the girl’s sole. The prisoner clenched and shrieked into a fit of giggles.
“Eeeeekkkk!! Hahahahahahahahahahah!! Heheehheheheyyy!!” The thief sang. She leaned forward in gasping out light flutters of ticklish laughter. A surge shot through Yuanji; a warm, almost meditative satisfaction. The girl’s bare soles were slick with sweat and warm to the touch. An instant merging of qi bridged the two as the thief trembled to her touch.
“Oh…” Yuanji said. A smile slowly worked its way from inside her spirit to her lips. She dragged her nail back up the girl’s sole, repeated the motion back and forth as she examined the effects of the power she wielded over the imprisoned goddess before her. The thief’s arms and legs quivered as she pulled them against her binds. The stocks held her ankles perfectly in place while her feet squirmed.
“Heeheehehehahahahahahahahaha! Heeheheheehahahahahahahahaha!” The thief squealed in her seat. A flowery hue came to Yuanji’s cheeks. She watched the girl in front of her perform a ticklish song and dance as beautiful as she had ever witnessed. She steadily added more fingers to her soles, then wiggling faster and faster. The thief threw back her head, bellowing into the sky long winded laughs. Yuanji giggled.
“Wow, you’re really ticklish,” Yuanji said. She thought back to all the unyielding taunts thrown at the girl from the villagers and restrained being so cruel. None came to mind. She only wished to stay there and watch as she tickle tortured the girl’s feet in her own light, delicate way.
“Aaaaahhhhhhahahahahaahahahahaha!! Nnnnnnaaaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!” The thief bucked up and down in her seat. Her cheeks, deep red, shined with a coat of her own tears and sweat. Her instant responses made Yuanji light up with a brimming, comfortable warmth.
Before reading Fang Yi’s memoirs, Yuanji carried faint pleasures in the act of tickling. She stowed away vague memories of hearing stories of tickling, even going as far as trying to do it to herself. As a girl, she was much less shy about asking Sima Yi to tickle him, a request that he would so reluctantly obey. While doing so satiated a hidden, misunderstood desire of hers, tickling a boy who was only allowing her to out of obligation, and not out of genuine enjoyment, quickly lost its appeal. Yuanji always found herself drawn to the more delicate nature of the female form, having always wished to see a pretty young girl at the mercy of ruthless tickling, tickling that boarderlined torture without leading to any distinct displeasure. Yuanji banked the circumstance as far too unlikely to keep locked away in her mind, but before her sat the tickle torment she had always wished to behold, at her very hands, and on a girl that was far more beautiful than any she had ever seen.
“AAAAAHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! NNNNAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHTTHHEEETTOEEESSSHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” The thief pleaded as Yuanji dipped her raking nails into the stems of her toes. The digits snuggled around her fingers with a warm embrace. Yuanji continued to giggle, feeling as a child at play once again.
“Heehee… ticklish toes,” Yuanji commented sweetly. Her fingers worked in between each. The thief shrieked with each scrape against the soft crevasses. She reserved her wild thrashing from the villagers to a defeated settle into her seat. The thief looked back to Yuanji through teary eyes with a genuine smirk tucked behind her laughter.
Yuanji soaked in the passing daylight as she delighted herself in the girl’s laughter. Her fingers raced all over the thief’s tender soles with childlike gaming. She raked her nails up and down the slick arches, scratched away at the balls and heels, and spent a considerable amount of time within her wiggling toes, the thief’s most responsive parts. The princess herself snickered and giggled through living out a more vivid fantasy than she could have ever hoped for. The girl’s silky feet were warm and plush beneath her touch. Where the thief appeared to live fairly ragged from her clothes, she had taken extraordinary care of her feet. As pristine and smooth as her own, save for an array of adorable little wrinkles, Yuanji admired them as she would a great epic woven into a silken tapestry. A newly enlightened qi flowed through her, one that brought more insights into the pleasures of life than anything the princess had ever known.
As the sun started dipping down toward the horizon, the Xian guard commander approached the stockade. He swung a series of keys in his gloved hand. Yuanji looked back at him, then swiftly away, hiding her face. She pulled back from her ticklish pursuit. The thief gulped wide swallows of air. A smile rested on her face as she fought for her breath.
“I hope you actually learned your lesson this time, Meiling,” said Commander Qiang. The man uncuffed her wrists from her sides. The thief named Meiling groaned a long sigh of relief. Yuanji started to walk away.
“Ooohhhh…. But it… was just getting… good,” said Meiling. Yuanji stopped in her departure and looked back, Meiling’s eager tone catching her off guard. “I guess we’ll have to find out…” Meiking laughed weakly as she rubbed her wrists.
“You really shouldn’t be such a deliberate strain on the Emperor’s guard like this,” said Qiang. The man unlocked and unhinged the stocks. He lifted the main plank, allowing Meiling to retract her legs. She moaned as she stretched them out. “I can’t keep letting you off easy.”
“You’ll find a way,” said Meiling, wiping sweat from her eyes. The girl laid both of her feet on the ground slowly. She took her time standing, adjusting to the sensitivity in her bare soles. Her legs wobbled like a newborn doe. Meiling held herself up by the stockade as she reached into a pocket. She pulled out two silver coins. “Because you know I’m good for it.” She tossed the coins to Qiang one at a time. He caught both with both hands. “Come on. Your men aren’t around. One for you and one for the old fruit lady.” The commander sighed and pocketed the coins. He looked toward the palace in doing so.
“I don’t know what you see in this,” said the commander. Meiling stood up straight.
“I like it,” said Meiling, shrugging. “Not much more to say than that.” The commander huffed.
“Most people keep that kind of stuff to themselves,” said the commander. “Not make public spectacles out of it.” Meiling leaned in toward him.
“I’m not most people,” Meiling said. The commander smiled briefly and rolled his eyes.
“Stay out of trouble from now on, okay Meiling?” Commander Qiang asked.
“I’ll give you and your men another week break, but you know that’s not going to happen,” said Meiling smiling back at the man. The commander grumbled out of Meiling’s earshot as he turned away from the freed thief.
Yuanji stayed off to the side, overhearing the whole exchange. As the commander vanished, Yuanji began to leave. She turned to venture back into the dwindling crowd of the marketplace when a voice stopped her.
“Hey,” Meiling said. Her greeting slapped the back of Yuanji’s head. She froze. She knew to whom the girl was addressing. Yuanji turned half way, twiddling her thumbs.
“H-hi,” said Yuanji. Yuanji heard Meiling’s footsteps come closer to her. She inched away, prepared for the lash back from how she treated the thief. “I’m… I’m really…”
“You’re a really good tickler,” Meiling said laughing. Yuanji flinched.
“Eh, really?” Yuanji asked, oddly flattered at the compliment. She giggled nervously. “I don’t even know what I’m doing. I’ve never tickled anyone like that before.” She looked back to the girl. Meiling stood several inches taller than she, enough to command a tilt to her chin. Meiling stood confident in her rags, smiling back at the princess.
“Really?” Meiling asked. “Then you’re a real natural.” Yuanji smiled and dipped her head.
“No…” Yuanji muttered.
“Oh yeah,” said Meiling. “And it’s nice to have a new face around here. You live here or just passing through?” Meiling fixed her hands to her sides.
“I’m… uh, I’m… passing through…” Yuanji answered slowly. Meiling nodded. She turned to the bluing blanket of peeking stars above.
“It’s going to be pretty dangerous going out on all those trade routes,” said Meiling. “How about you come back to my place?” Yuanji staggered back.
“W-what?” Yuanji asked.
“Just for the night,” said Meiling. “Or, you know, stay as long as you want.” Yuanji stood speechless. She swallowed and looked down, only then realizing how she had nowhere to stay for the night.
“O… okay,” said Yuanji. A timid smile came to her face. She looked back up to the girl beautiful in her bravery. “Thank you.”
“Eh, it’s nothing,” said Meiling. The girl started walking away. Yuanji followed from behind. Meiling turned and laughed. “What are you doing all the way back there?”
“Following you,” Yuanji answered softly.
“Come up here,” said Meiling, shaking her head and laughing. Yuanji giggled and rubbed the back of her head.
“Okay,” said Yuanji. The princess raced up to walk next to Meiling, standing so strong and assured of herself. Meiling led the girl down the resident roads.
“So, I’m Meiling, in case you weren’t listening in before,” said Meiling.
“I was,” said Yuanji on impulse. She retracted. “I mean, you know, not on purpose or anything.” Meiling gave a single laugh.
“That’s cute,” said Meiling. Yuanji’s cheeks made sinking dimples. “So, what’s your name, ‘strange traveler’?” Yuanji froze. She knew that Meiling would recognize her royal name. The princess stumbled over words in search for the right name to give. She said the first one to come to memory.
“Uhh… Lee,” said Yuanji. “C...Cao Lee.” Meiling nodded.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Lee,” said Meiling. “How about I make us a pot of tea we’ll get to know each other a little better.” Yuanji smiled beneath a lowered head. She looked back up to Meiling as they made their way down a clay road toward Meiling’s home.
“I’d like that,” said Cao Lee.