枕冷衾寒
Zhěn lěng qīn hán
Cold pillow and lonely bed.
Cold and solitary existence.
*~*~*~*~*~*
The storm finally came that evening.
Dark grey clouds had hung overhead all day as Sanli and the others travelled up the valley to the temple, after mysteriously appearing from a clear sky that morning. As the clouds broke, the rain swept across the valley like a wave, driving the wind before it and causing the leaves to buck and sway like the tossing of a stormy, tree green sea.
Standing at the window of the small, barren room he had been given at the temple, Sanli watched the storm curve across the valley below, heading in their direction.
"Come away from the window," said Ming Lang behind him. "It's going to rain."
Sanli did as she told him, stepping back to where his friend sat, composing a letter at the old wooden writing table. It was the only piece of furniture in the room beside the neatly made bed in the corner.
"I'm writing to my parents, letting them know I've arrived safely," she said, at his inquiring glance. "Not that they're waiting to hear from me. I was dead to them as soon as I chose to become a nun."
Sanli placed a hand on his friend's shoulder and squeezed before sitting beside her at the table. Ming Lang's family was wealthy. One of the wealthiest in Lin'jing, in fact. Naturally, as the only daughter, it was expected for her to make a fortuitous match to support the family fortunes.
Ming had had other ideas however.
Sanli smiled, recalling when they had first met at the university, in the Green City.
It had been the first day of classes. He had been excited, yet nervous. Going to the family school in the valley had been hell, as all of the other students had bullied him relentlessly. On Erli's orders.
Now, here in the city, he was hoping he would be able to learn in peace at last.
He sat at the back of the lecture hall of his first class. Scribery. Sanli was already proficient at magic, having the advantage of his own seal, as all male members of the family were entitled to. But it was still necessary for him to take the class.
As the class commenced it soon became apparent to Sanli that he would not have to work very hard to excel . Not only was it something he already knew, but he had the additional advantage of his memory to help him remember seals and spells.
"Dammit! Why are there so many strokes in this character!"
Sanli turned to see who had spoken. The boy sitting next to him was glaring down at the misshapen character drawn in the sand of the practice tray before him.
The young man was dressed in an oversized robe and had cut his hair short. The cut was messy, as though it had been done with a blunt knife. Or someone who was inexperienced at cutting their own hair.
Sanli studied the fine features of the boy. Finally, he asked quietly. "Are you a girl?"
The girl (for it was a girl) dropped her practice stick into the sand and turned wide, frightened eyes toward Sanli. "Bloody hell. How did you know? Is it that obvious?"
Sanli laughed. "Probably not to others."
The girl buried her face in her hands. "It's only the first day and I've been found out. My parents are going to kill me."
Sanli chuckled. "Your secret is safe with me. I've no interest in telling your parents or anyone else."
The girl peaked at him between her fingers. "Really?"
"Really. What's your name?"
"I'm Wen Ming Lang. You?"
"Lu Sanli."
"Lu?" the girl called Ming Lang said, confused. Then her eyes widened. "Hot hell! You're one of the princes!"
Sanli tensed, waiting for her to call him 'the bastard prince', as everyone else did. But she didn't. She said something that surprised him even more.
"Marry me!" The girl said. She turned in her chair to face him, then took his hand in her own.
Sanli laughed out of surprise. "What?"
"Marry me! If I come home with a prince, my parents will stop trying to get me to marry every rich old lord in Lin'jing to help grow the family fortune."
Sanli could not stop laughing. Although they were sat at the back of the class, his laughter was loud enough to carry to the professor in the front.
"Is something amusing, my prince?" their lecturer asked with disdain.
"Ah, sorry I just, my neighbor wrote the character wrong. Instead of palace, it says phal—"
The professor dismissed Sanli's words with an irritated wave and returned to his lecture.
Sanli turned back to the young woman, still laughing softly. "I'll tell you what, Student Wen Ming Lang. I'm not going to marry you. But I will help you with your zih. They're atrocious."
Back in the present, Sanli watched Ming Lang as she finished her letter. Her handwriting had drastically improved, but she still forgot stroke order.
"I hope this storm doesn't affect your oath swearing tomorrow," said Sanli, leaning a chin on one hand as he watched her write.
"It won't. The ceremony takes place in the temple. Rain won't reach in there," Ming Lang said. She brought her seal, just an ordinary, family yinzhang, to rest on the paper, signing it. Then she tucked it into her sleeve and stood to leave.
"Why don't you stay longer?" said Sanli. He reached out and took her arms gently in his hands, as if to hold the small woman in place. "We have not seen each other in such a while."
Ming Lang crooked an eyebrow. "I do not think your lover will be happy about that. I am sure she is waiting for me to leave to come to you."
Sanli sighed, and thought of Ao. He was surprised she had agreed to come to the Memorial Temple with everyone. Her face that morning when she had appeared in the courtyard, dressed like a queen, had made it very clear she did not appreciate Ming Lang's presence.
"I've told you. She is not my lover. Just a... friend," said Sanli, letting Ming Lang's arms go and sinking back in his chair.
"A friend you sleep with? A friend doesn't glower at me like she did. What did you tell her of me?"
"What's there to tell? You're also my friend. From my university days," said Sanli indifferently.
"A friend who you proposed to, if you recall. Did you tell her that? Is that why she hates me?"
Sanli sighed again and thought back.
It was the final day of classes. Next week would be their graduation ceremony, and then they would be graduates of the university.
Sanli glanced at the girl sat beside him. Her hair was still cut short, but as she had grown, it had become plain she was no boy. Her lips had filled, and her cheekbones sharpened. A part of him knew Ming Lang was not what was considered pretty or beautiful, but a much larger part of him loved her face, in all its familiarity. He could not think of a face he would rather see.
By the time their classmates had realized Ming Lang was the only daughter of the wealthy Wen family, Sanli had already made his presence by her side very clear. As such, the other students had avoided both the bastard prince and the crazy Wen heiress who cut her hair as a man.
Allocated as outcasts by the other students, Sanli and Ming Lang had spent the last four years as constant companions. Ming Lang often came to the valley to visit Wo You Nai, and Sanli in turn often visited Ming Lang at her parents' substantial estate outside Lin'jing.
Sanli studied the familiar face of his friend beside him, thinking how appropriate it was that he started his first class beside her, and now would end his last class the same way.
"Why do you look so worried?" he asked, reaching out to poke the furrows between Ming Lang's eyes.
Ming Lang swatted his hand away. "Nothing. Just..." she paused. "I thought if I went to university, my parents would give up trying to marry me off."
"Haven't they?" asked Sanli, skeptically.
"I thought so. Then last night they had a party, celebrating my success..." Ming Lang's frown deepened, as though the party was the worst thing to ever befall her. "My father made a point of inviting all the wealthy, single men in the city. I spent dinner beside Cang Wan, the trader, who would not stop talking of all the things he would buy for his wife, once he had one. It was the most shameful show of propositioning I've ever seen."
Sanli frowned. He did not like seeing his dear friend, his only friend, so unhappy. He did not like the helplessness in this strong, self assured woman's voice. A woman he had come to respect and admire so much.
Then Sanli did something that surprised even himself. He turned, taking Ming Lang's hand in his.
"Marry me, then," he said.
In the present, in the small plain room of the monastery, Sanli shrugged.
"Of course I didn't tell her. What would I tell? You rejected my proposal. Just as I rejected yours when we first met. And so it's like I said. Nothing to tell," Sanli idly played with the writing brush Ming Lang had just put down. He drew loops and swirls in the stone of the ink well, watching the ink sink into the porous stone.
"Mmhmmm" said Ming Lang, and Sanli felt her watching him. She paused, then "I appreciated your offer, you know. But I did not want to trap myself in one loveless marriage just to avoid another. I'd rather be a nun."
"Who said it would have been loveless?" countered Sanli, and immediately regretted it. His words sat painfully between them, like a pathetic, abandoned animal.
He wished he could reach out, wrench them from the air and crush them back to nothingness.
Sanli laughed as carelessly as he could, still looking away from his friend's eyes. "Anyway, you got your wish. You've become a nun."
"Yes. Isn't it wonderful? Now I can spend the rest of my life reading and writing all day."
"Don't you have to attend worship and do chores as well?" asked Sanli skeptically.
"I don't mind worship. And while I do chores, I can think on what I will read or write next."
Sanli smiled, "I wonder how you received such high praise from the priestess at your nunnery if you were always daydreaming."
"I am very skilled," Ming Lang bragged.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Ming Lang left soon for her own room. Sanli expected Ao to come to him after that, as it had become their habit to sleep together, but she did not.
The rain fell throughout the night, loud and then softer as Sanli drifted to sleep, lulled by the sound.
The next morning the rain had stopped, but clouds still shuddered across the sky, one after the other, bumping into each other like befuddled sheep.
Sanli dressed and left to look for the others.
The Memorial Temple and the lofty pagoda that could be seen throughout the valley were only a fraction of the temple complex. Sanli idly wandered, from the old stone building he and the others had been housed in, to a mossy courtyard, to a long walk way that crossed through a grove of great green pines to get to the next building.
Some areas of the temple were busy, while some were near deserted. Stables and dormitories and kitchens and a clothier. There was even a blacksmith and an ink seller. The temple was a town unto itself, stacked precariously on the peaks at the top of the valley.
Nuns and monks, the residents of this town, bowed as they passed by Sanli. They were all dressed in robes of various shades of green. Sanli knew the lower ranking initiates wore dark green robes, as Ming Lang did. The higher ranking the monk or nun, the lighter the green of their robe. Closer to the shade of leaf green that was associated with the Green King.
Sanli passed a broad shoulder monk carrying a pail of water and frowned. It did not seem wise to him, having all these unmarried men and women living together side by side. Surely things would arise, as a result of their closeness, despite whatever vows of abstinence they had taken. He would have to warn Ming Lang to be careful.
Sanli had just made up his mind to cease his exploration and head to the main temple when he entered a smaller courtyard and found it filled with tents and people who were not monks or nuns. The people in the courtyard instead were dressed in poorly made clothes, some of which seemed to be made from sewn sheets or burlap bags. Unlike the monks and nuns, busily bustling about, these people sat around cook pots filled with soup, or basins filled with washing, contained in their courtyard.
The faces of these people were wan, wary. A few children played beneath the crooked trees that poked up through flagstones. But even their play seemed cautious and subdued.
They're here to seek refuge, Sanli realized.
Sanli wondered where they had come from. The central regions? But the temple was out of the way of most roads leading from the Central Regions.
"Where did you all come from?" Sanli asked an old man stirring a pot of something that might have been soup. The old man squinted distrustfully at Sanli and did not answer.
Sanli did not mind. He knew what it was like, to be without a home. Ever moving, unsure of where you would be next. Unsure of who you would meet, and what will they might bear you.
Sanli noticed several other refugees eyeing him warily, his fine clothes standing out amid the burlap tunics and rough-spun shirts around him. Quietly, Sanli turned and left.
He wandered his way back among the narrow foot roads of the monastery, up old crumbling staircases set into the cliff side and through forgotten closes.
Finally Sanli emerged into a courtyard and found Kageyama and Zakhar standing in the courtyard of the monastery, talking to the head priest.
As Sanli approached them, the head priest bowed deeply and greeted him, then walked away, face grave.
Sanli turned to Kageyama. "What was that about?" he asked.
The kitsune shook his head. "I asked about the refugees camping in some of the lower courtyards."
"I just saw them," said Sanli. "Where did they flee from?"
"It seems most of them come from the north. Not the Central Regions, as is the case with those camping outside Linjing," Kageyama
"Why are they fleeing the north?" asked Sanli, confused. He had not heard that the unrest caused by the rebellion in the central lands had spread that far...
"It seems the Black Lord's army has been coming south of the border, raiding villages and farms in the Green Kingdom for food... and worse," said Kageyama, face grim.
"But I thought the Black Lord was supposed to protect the north and the rest of the empire from raiders. Not raid us himself."
Here Zakhar snorted and joined the conversation. "You should know by now gods do not always do what they're supposed to." His voice was bitter, his face hard.
Sanli knew Zakhar was recalling his time in the Black Lord's army. The prince wondered what exactly Zakhar had seen during his time as a soldier. What he had done.
He knew better than to ask.
"Can we not allocate more food and cloth for the monastery? For the refugees?" Sanli asked Kageyama.
Kageyama shook his head. "You could try. But with the tallies your brother has just asked for, I doubt there are supplies to spare."
No one commented on the fact that Xiangli, Sanli's older brother and regent of the Green Kingdom, had recently asked for a tally of troops, supplies, everything that was necessary to sustain a fighting force. No one said anything but, the three men all knew what it meant.
The Green Kingdom was preparing for war.
The grim mood that hung over the men was broken by the sound of merry laughter. As one they turned to see the group approaching them.
Ermi, Liang'yi, Ming Lang and Ao were all walking toward them, dressed in loose cotton robes worn by the nuns while working. The women were all fresh faced and rosy cheeked in the morning light, and their hair wet.
"Where were you all?" Sanli asked as the group reached them.
"I showed them where the hot springs are," said Ming Lang, playfully flicking her towel in Sanli's direction. "You men should venture up that way later today. Wash off before you enter the Green King's temple. Your ancestor doesn't want to smell your stink." Ming Lang snapped the towel again, trying to catch Sanli with the tip.
Sanli grabbed the towel mid snap, tugging it from Ming Lang's hands and laughing. "I do not stink. I can't speak for Zakhar and Sho Sensei, however." He turned the towel on Ming Lang, snapping it and connected with her thigh.
"OW! Give me that," his friend said, wrenching the towel from Sanli's hands.
Ao calmly walked between the two of them. "Excuse me. I will return to my rooms to get ready." Then she was gone, walking away across the courtyard, head held proudly.
Sanli watched her go, feeling strange.
"The ceremony isn't for another three hours. How long does Noodles mean to prepare for?" Liang'yi said, looking confused.
*~*~*~*~*~*
That evening, Sanli stood outside the entrance to the Memorial Temple.
The building was huge, and made entirely of wood. Curving roofs sat atop huge carved columns. Everywhere images of kirin bared their horse like teeth in frozen smiles, all carved from rich red wood.
The building itself was set into the cliff face, and Sanli knew at the back of the temple was a passage leading into the caves where his ancestor was buried.
Sanli tugged his military uniform down at the hem, and then checked to make sure his leaf green cloak hung properly from his shoulders. He straightened the golden stag brooch on his chest. Kageyama and Zakhar stood beside him, clothed similarly, though without a brooch. Zakhar's uniform fit rather snugly, despite the fact that it had been tailored large.
"Perhaps you should lay off the drink?" Sanli said, hitting Zakhar's stomach with the back of his hand.
Zakhar didn't reply, except to reach one huge palm and roughly tousle Sanli's hair into a crows nest. Sanli laughed and ducked away.
"Quit it," growled Kageyama. "People are watching."
Sanli straightened up, combing his hair back with his fingers. Around them monks and nuns had started arriving. They filed into position inside the temple in preparation for the ceremony.
Many bowed reverently as they passed Sanli, some remarking on Sanli's green eyes with excitement.
They don't care that I'm a bastard, Sanli thought. They just care that I'm descended from the Green King. It was an oddly refreshing thought.
Finally, the women approached. Ermi had worn one of her colorful gowns but had decided to forgo the too-tall shoes in order to better navigate the narrow, uneven steps all over the monastery. Beside her charge, Liang'yi looked plain, in calfskin pants and a loose white shirt and tunic. The colors mirrored the colors of the Dachuo's own fur, when in her true form.
Behind them walked Ao, dressed in an elaborate fall colored robe of orange and gold. Ao was wearing the ridiculously tall shoes that were so popular with women these days, and walked with her head down, watching her every step.
Sanli wondered though, if that distracted look on Ao's face was only because of her poor footwear choice.
A gong sounded just as the women reached where the men stood, and together they filtered inside the temple with the remaining monks and nuns.
Inside nuns kneeled on cushions on one side of the main hall and monks on the other. Both sides were arranged by rank, with those of lowest rank nearest the door, and those of higher rank near the altar. This caused a gradation of green, starting from dark pine and gradually lightening to fresh spring leaf worn by the handful of head priests and priestesses sat on carved wooden chairs nearest the altar.
The altar itself was surprisingly made of gold, or at least gold covered it. Wood was the material considered sacred by followers of the Green King, and not gold. But perhaps the craftsman who had made the altar had wanted to create something that stood out.
And the altar surely stood out. Carved leaves unfurled and intertwined, glimmering gold in the light of many candles. Among the leaves, kirin heads could be seen, peering smugly from the golden foliage.
Sanli could not help but think that there was enough gold in the altar to feed the refugees down in the courtyard for decades. Till they had all grown old and died, after living a life happy and well fed.
Behind the altar itself, a huge image of a stag was carved into dark wood, made darker by the smoke of the hundreds of candles burning around it. The candle light shone in the dark temple, causing the polished wood of the stag to glimmer as if alight.
As they stepped inside a senior monk guided them to places of honor beside the altar. Two ornate high-backed throne like chairs had been arranged for both Sanli and Ermi, with two additional seats placed behind the thrones for their attendants. Zakhar and Kageyama took their seats behind Sanli's chair, and Liang'yi and Ao behind Ermi's.
As the prince and princess sat, all the eyes of the hall turned to them. Sanli looked over, to see his niece blushing furiously at the attention. He caught Ermi's eye and winked.
The gong sounded again and the hall settled into silence. The hall was dark, despite the fact it was still light outside, as the windows were covered over by shutters. All eyes were drawn to the ring of flickering light surrounding the altar.
From a side passage, the initiates entered and kneeled on cushions that had been prepared for them before the altar. There were no more than twenty men and women robed in dark green. Sanli caught sight of Ming Lang, near the end of her row.
Well, no going back now, he thought.
A man dressed in bright green robes with a pendent about his neck stepped up to stand behind the altar. The head priest of the monastery.
"Today, these faithful will swear their final oaths to the Green God. The oaths are this: Do not kill except to protect. Do not take except to give. Do not eat meat of any animal—"
The list of things the faithful were not supposed to do went on and on, with some things as obscure as not drinking milk in the morning on a holy day. Sanli could not stop himself from smiling when the head priest said "Do not lay with members of the other sex."
He very much wanted to catch Ming Lang's eye in the moment, but she was looking steadfastly at the image behind the altar, as were the other initiates.
The head priest finished his list of forbidden things, and commanded the initiates to bow, which they did.
Then the head priest began again, now listing the things that the initiates before him would be expected to do.
"Rise early with the sun. Keep clean your mind and body. Protect those who follow the Green King and his faith. Pray five times a day, and—"
This list was much less exhaustive than the first, and rather vague. In fact Sanli could not tell what the monks and nuns were required to do except pray and get up early.
Sanli looked behind him. Kageyama and Zakhar were both glancing around, watching those gathered as their instincts and positions as guards demanded.
Liang'yi looked like she was sleeping, with her eyes half lidded. Sanli hoped she was just carefully inspecting the nearby monks and nuns for concealed weapons.
Ermi had her eyes fixed on Ming Lang, as Sanli had a moment before. Ao however, was not watching any person. Her eyes were fixed on the carved stag that towered above the altar.
She looked odd, as though her thoughts had traveled long ago and far away, and only a shadow of the woman remained.
Finally, the head priest finished his list. The initiates bowed again. Then, in chorus, those assembled all began chanting the final words of the prayer. These were the words that all prayers to the gods ended with, whether it was a request for blessing from the White Queen or the Red Duke, a plea of protection to the Golden Emperor, or and entreaty of mercy to the Black Lord.
The sound filled the hall, as the voices of all those present chimed in unison.
"All that I am, all that I have, everything of my heart is yours."
And then the ceremony was complete.
The initiates rose and turned to face the hall filled with their peers. The watching nuns and monks, despite their meditative profession, cheered and clapped loudly.
Ming Lang beamed. Sanli caught her eye at last, and smiled at her. His friend grinned happily back. And then she was gone, lost in a crowd of other green robed men and women who crowded to congratulate their new brethren.
"Well, I'm ready for the banquet," Sanli heard Liang'yi say with a yawn behind him.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's note HERE!