Chapter Sixteen

If Ling Xin were a fox spirit taking his yang energy, Zhi Hao decided he would willingly give up all of it. It wasn't merely that her body was made perfectly to attract him. A woman who was both supple and strong had always stirred his desire, but there were many such women in the world.

Ling Xin was more than beautiful. He loved how curious she was, as if she wanted to taste the whole world and she was daring enough to try it. She had not run in fear when the peasants attacked, and once she chose a path, she committed to it. Including the path that had led him to the most explosive release of his life.

And what was she doing right now? She was laying bent over, flat on the table, her breath lengthening into easy rest as she hummed with every exhale. It was a kind of purr that told him she was well content while he pressed tiny kisses to her back.

Then, because he could not prevent it, he slipped out of her. She whimpered slightly at that, but did not move. It was left to him to bring bucket and cloth to clean them both. She allowed his ministrations, smiling as he washed her. And when she was finally set to rights, he was loathe to let her go.

She needed to leave. Every minute that she stayed here with him was a danger to them both. But having experienced her sexual curiosity, he wanted to know more about what else she pursued.

"Does your mother wish you to become empress?" he asked as he guided her to the couch to sit.

She settled easily into the seat, but then obviously relaxed, letting her head fall back and exposing her long, elegant neck. Then she spoke to the ceiling. "When Mama was pregnant with me, she burned many joss sticks praying that I would be a girl. She knew the age of the emperor's son and that a girl would be the right age to vie to become his wife." She smiled. "Of course, they didn't know his father would die young and put him into mourning before his first Feast of Fertility. That gave me extra years to mature, otherwise I would have gone to the Forbidden City very young."

That would be a crime indeed for he never would have met her then. "From your very first breath," he whispered. Such far sighted ambition for her parents, and such a cruel punishment for their daughter.

"Every moment of my life has been aimed for this one goal." She stretched and he watched the glorious shift of her body with growing hunger. "I began to feel suffocated by the time I was six."

"What did you do?" She could not have been climbing walls to entice Master Gao's students when she was that young.

"Lots of things," she answered. "I stole my brothers' books and read them."

"Did you?"

She yawned. "Yes. But only because it was forbidden to me. In truth, they were pretty boring."

"Then what?"

"I explored my father's work, reading scrolls, maps, and accounts." She groaned. "Those account books were the worst."

"So why did you keep studying them?"

"I didn't want to, but my father caught me. He said an empress should have an understanding of all aspects of China. It turns out he knew that I had been reading those forbidden texts all along. Indeed, that was why he had forbidden them."

"But they are forbidden to women. Or they are where I grew up."

"They are here, too, but no one cares so long as I don't speak of it." She sighed. "Father said that it would be best that the emperor was surrounded by people who understood the world. That included his wife, even if he never consulted her except to bed her."

He gaped at her. "He said that to you?"

"Many times." She sighed as she shifted on the couch to look at him.

"So what do you know?"

"A little bit of everything. I can run a household, balance the accounts, and manage the servants. I also know a little geography, classic literature, and you have seen me dance."

"You learned all that in secret?"

"In secret?" she laughed. "No! Whenever I was caught in mischief, my father gave me more to study. Mother and her kin taught me the basics of medicine. My father taught me accounts and we often discuss the movement of goods throughout China."

"Commerce," he said softly. "You astound me."

She responded with a quotation, or so it sounded that way given the cadence of her speech, but he didn't understand the words. "What did you say?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. "You don't speak Manchu?"

He shook his head. Though he was a red bannerman by heritage, he'd grown up far from Peking. Few outside of the capitol city spoke the language of the Manchurians, for all that they were the ruling elite. He and most everyone he knew spoke Mandarin. Even Master Gao did not know the Manchu language.

"Ah, well, what I said is, ‘If a son is uneducated, the father is to blame.' My father believes that applies to daughters as well. Especially daughters—"

"Who will become the empress," he finished for her.

She nodded, and her expression was sad. Then she frowned. "You should learn the language. Those who take the exam as a translator always get selected. Unless they are very stupid."

He nodded. He already knew that, but he hadn't been able to find—or pay—a tutor. He leaned forward. "Will you teach me?"

She smiled. "I would love to." Then she glanced at the table. "After all, you have already taught me so much."

His body tightened at the memory. "Did I… Are you hurt?"

"Nothing beyond a very pleasant ache," she said, her expression turning lascivious.

"Careful," he warned. "You are not supposed to know about that."

She nodded. "I am very good at hiding what I know. But do you mean that what we did is not in the book?"

He frowned. "What book?"

"Mother said that grandmother was given a book on her wedding day. That I could have it as well—"

"A pillow book."

She looked at him, her expression eager. "Do you know of these books? Do you have one?"

He knew of them. He'd even seen one. But that was not something his tutors thought valuable for him. Besides, boys learned things anyway. He saw the book when one of his friends stole it from his mother's bedroom.

"I don't have one," he said. "I'm sorry."

She sighed. "I fear there is a great deal more to learn. And though I enjoy my education, it will not be enough. I cannot dance for the emperor the way I danced with you."

His heart twisted in his chest at the thought of her dancing for anyone other than himself. But he could not say that. Instead, he leaned forward and gripped her hand.

"Think of what we did when you dance. Let it accentuate your movements. It will be enough."

Her gaze held so many emotions that he could not read them all. Sadness, fear, hope, and much more flitted across her face. "Will it be enough?"

Probably not. But if her father had been planning for her to become empress since before her birth, he would have given many bribes to set her up. Zhi Hao now realized that she might indeed be his next empress.

"I will get you a copy of the book," he promised. He had no idea where or with what coin, but if this was all he could do for her, he would find a way.

"Thank you," she said. "And in return, I shall teach you to speak Manchu. Even if you don't pass the exam this year, you can try again next year as a translator."

He nodded. It was a good plan. But it was also a plan that would take too long. She would be locked in the Forbidden City long before he had the chance to take the exam under a new discipline.

She abruptly leaned forward, the light coming back into her eyes. "Let's begin," she said. Then she began to ask him questions in Manchu.

He fumbled with his answers. He had picked up a little Manchu along the way, so he could answer with his name and his family. But beyond that…

Luckily, she was a patient teacher. And he did his best, even though he was always distracted by the lilt in her voice, the sparkle in her eyes, and the joy in her laughter. How odd that her beauty was lower on the list of things he adored about her. She was beautiful, but now he began to appreciate the whole of her, most especially her mind.

They talked—haltingly—about his family, most especially his uncle who was a eunuch in the Forbidden City. She grilled him about what his uncle did every day and night. Everything she might learn about life in the Forbidden City.

It was her way of trying to learn more about her future. And though he cherished every moment they spent together, this was especially depressing. By the time she yawned for the seventh time, he knew the evening must end.

He switched back to his native Mandarin as he stood up. "I must get up early tomorrow to help Wan Fu."

"Who is that?"

"The man who was startled by a fox at your ancestral tomb."

She straightened, adjusting her hair and her clothing as she moved. Though she had been well covered during his language lesson, she still set everything back in place. "But why do you have to help him?"

"Because he is my family now. I have promised." And because it made him feel good to do something other than hunch over scrolls all day.

"Your kindness family?" There was laughter in her tone. "I thought you made that up."

He shrugged. "I did. But I am still beholden to them."

"But you made it up!"

"And I am happiest when I am doing something good for someone else." Did she not understand? "I'm not taking the imperial exam just to get a good salary. I mean to use my power to help the people Peking has forgotten."

She frowned. "The emperor provides for all."

"Some more than others," he countered. "The viceroys are corrupt. The aid from the emperor does not always reach the people meant to have it."

She nodded, her expression grave. "My father says much the same thing."

"We are alike in that."

"Yes," she said softly. "You are. And now I see that you will pass the exam. I see that you have a determination larger than saving your own family." She took his hand and squeezed it. "You will make a great magistrate or viceroy or whatever appointment you receive."

"I shall be happy to pass the exam first," he said.

And so, walking hand in hand, they moved slowly to the garden wall. She switched them back to Manchu as they moved, speaking in whispers that he could only partially understand.

They hesitated at the wall. He wanted to kiss her. He burned with the need, but he knew if he did, she would end up in his bed. He would not be able to let her go. And so he helped her stand on the stone he had placed there, then boosted her up.

She scrambled up easily, pausing at the top to look back at him. How she glowed in moonlight. He could readily believe her a spirit. But he knew she was flesh and blood. He had touched her, he had loved her, and now he was seeing her safely home.

"Good night," she said in Manchu. He answered in the same way before he watched her drop down to her garden.

Then he heard her gasp.

Zhi Hao had been about to head to his bed, but he froze at the sound. He was already preparing to leap onto the wall when he heard her speak.

"Baba." Father.

Then he heard the slap.