The Rise of Phoenixes

Chapter 212

“Is gender important?” Yan Huaishi replied, his eyes smiling knowingly. “Other countries have very open-minded people. Third Uncle brought me to the Pu Country before when I was ten, and I remember seeing men and women dancing down the thoroughfares; now that was a sight.”

“Really?” Hua Qiong replied, enchanted by Yan Huaishi’s expression. “I’d like to see that.”

As Yan Huaishi continued speaking spiritedly, Hua Qiong’ eyes lingered on the beads of weary sweat on Yan Huaishi’s face. Her heart softened and she took out her handkerchief and leaned over to wipe his brow.

Yan Huaishi was still happily declaiming when Hua Qiong surprised him, a fine wrist before his eyes and a sudden fragrance in his nose as soft cloth brushed gently over his face. Yan Huaishi’s heart skipped a beat and before he knew it, he had pulled back.

As soon as he moved away, Hua Qiong’s hand stilled, and only then did Yan Huaishi realized what had happened. He hurriedly smiled and accepted her handkerchief, half-explaining: “How could I allow a pregnant woman to worry after me? Let me.”

Hua Qiong stared at him for a moment before smiling, calmly relinquishing the handkerchief.

Yan Huaishi distractedly wiped at his face, hesitating for a moment before saying: “Mother is asking when we wish to hold the wedding ceremony, when do you...”

Hua Qiong fell silent again. Finally, she replied: “Let’s decide after the baby is born. With your new status, we’ll need a large ceremony and banquet, and when the time comes, it will better if I do not have a huge belly.”

Yan Huaishi sighed in relief and smiled with a tinge of gratitude, saying: “That is good, and I will surely throw you the most brilliant and grand wedding to repay my gratitude for your sacrifice before the Ancestral Temple.

“Huaishi,” Hua Xiong began, looking up and staring straight into his eyes. “Between us, is there only gratitude?”

Yan Huaishi paused, opening and closing his mouth speechlessly, surprised and unsure and confused.

The woman before him was pretty and delicate, and though she was not some great beauty, her bearing was heroic and her temperament outstanding. She looked nothing like the daughter of a private school teacher or the wife of a failed scholar.

Everything he understood about her said that she was worthy of any man under heaven.

When he was seven and found out that his mother had been locked away in a nunnery, he had run dozens of miles through to night and clung to the gates of the cloister for an entire day begging, yelling and crying.

She was a year older than him, and when she heard his cry she had come to investigate. When she figured out what was happening, she called over her father’s students and had them setup a ladder over the nunnery’s gates, boldly bringing him over the wall to meet his mother. As he cried, clutching his mom, she sat lookout on the wall.

When he was nine, he had been placed under house arrest for sneaking out to visit his mother and could not visit her when she took seriously ill. Hua Xiong ran over to his place by herself and climbed over a wall to reach the woodshed where she found a large cleaver and cut the wooden bolt locking him in.

When he was twelve, the nunnery was order by the Yan Family Head to double the guard and forbid his visits, so Hua Xiong used a hoe to enlarge a dog hole by the nunnery wall. When Yan Huaishi refused to crawl through a hole in the ground, she kicked his butt and angrily scolded him: “A real man doesn’t mind these trifles. Today if you do not crawl through this hole, tomorrow you will be unable to bear your troubles. In the future, your Yan Family won’t even dig you a grave when you die!”

It was only after years of crawling through that dog hole that he discovered that she had been using it far longer than he had. Before he had even learned of his mother’s forced seclusion, she had already been crawling through this hole to deliver steamed buns to his starved mother.

He had always respected her, admired her, and he was filled with gratitude. When he had been sealed within the Ancestral Temple, helpless as she raged fearlessly against the Yan Family for him, burning tears had filled his eyes. When she had asked whether he would marry her, he had called out without hesitation, his assent sincere and full-hearted.

Of course he had to marry her; his conscience would never allow anything less — she was his wife, it was decided. There was no need for thought.

But now that she asked him what lay between them, he was suddenly confused. Marriage was his duty and responsibility, but anything else?

They were not two childhood sweethearts.

They were forced together by his family’s internal conflict.

In the past twenty years of his life, his mother had explained countless times that he was of the noble and powerful blood of the Yan and Chen Families, and through his Yan line he could even trace his heritage back to a royal emperor. His blood was dignified and honorable, and only a noble woman could be worthy of being his wife.

After hearing it so many times, Yan Huaishi just assumed it to be true.

But as Hua Qiong stared into him with her bright, clear eyes, his mother’s teachings filled his mind and he was stuck, uncertain and unsure and speechless.

Hua Qiong laughed.

Her laughter tinkled bright and clear as she playfully shoved Yan Huaishi: “It is a silly question, no wonder it baffled you. I really am... we’re getting married soon, what is the point of asking this question.”

“Yes.” Yan Huaishi began, awkwardly wiping his sweat. “We’re getting married, we’re getting married...”

“I won’t keep you.” Hua Qiong pushed him again, watching him as he fled.

She lingered under the veranda, leaning gently against a pillar as she watched a passing cloud, the wind rustling around her. When she finally turned, Feng Zhiwei was hurriedly moving the box from the window, securing the box and closing the window as if afraid an unexpected rain might damage her treasure.

After a moment, she quietly giggled.

Feng Zhiwei had no idea that the Yan couple had had such an important conversation outside her room. She carefully examined the sky, worrying about Young Master Gu. The jade statue had left her to do heavens know what, and hopefully he would not be caught out in the rain.

The box that Yan Huaishi had presented lay quietly on the table. It was an incredibly elegant wooden container, the grain of the pale green wood a beautiful, natural sweeping-wind pattern. The golden mandala flower in the corner was the same style as Ning Yi’s cape — exquisite petals and leaves completely different from the quiet elegance of the box yet somehow fitting together perfectly, dashing and enchanting just like Ning Yi.

That man... even his box needed to be just like him. Feng Zhiwei quietly chuckled as she slid her hand over the smooth wood.

She had to admire his taste; she truly preferred this elegance over expensive and gaudy gold or jade.

But what lay inside?

Feng Zhiwei examined the mystery. It was not a regular jewelry box, so perhaps it was a rare amusement from Minnan? Some sort of elixir to speed her recover? Or was it just a prank, and when she opened the lid a pair of pen monkeys would leap out?

To think that even as he marshaled his army and led them to battle, he still had time to prepare her a gift.

Feng Zhiwei leaned on her hands, staring idly at the box, her eyes glistening quietly and she wondered what was inside. She was in no rush to open this mystery — it was much more pleasant and beautiful to just imagine what lay inside.

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