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“An engagement?” Li Xiangyi raised his eyebrows. “That might be typical for an alliance in the world of politics, but in the jianghu, it’s a bit unusual. Your Jinyuan Alliance and my Sigu Sect are based on convictions, not on blood ties. I’m unsure who would agree to such a union, and if they did agree, and ended up defecting in earnest, there would be nothing but martial ties to maintain the alliance.”
Di Feisheng scoffed. “Sect Leader Li has it all worked out already, hm?”
“If you have some reason you think it would work, go ahead and tell me.”
“Between two average sect members, a marriage alliance might not be effective. But if two sect leaders marry and swear allegiance, of course the sects will have to follow suit.”
“Two sect leaders?” Li Xiangyi grinned. That meant Di Feisheng had startled him successfully, for once. Or confused him, at least. “Sect Leader Di, our current sect leaders are you and I. Unless one of us steps down…”
“You and I are precisely who I mean.”
Li Xiangyi crossed his arms. The grin was fading to a smirk, but he was clearly still puzzled. “Am I expected to take this as a marriage proposal?”
“Yes.”
“Sect Leader Di…” Li Xiangyi’s eyes pressed closed for a moment. “Do you understand what marriage is?”
“Sect Leader Li should not insult someone he is trying to negotiate with.” Especially since Li Xiangyi was currently in his stronghold, arguably under his power—though Di Feisheng knew well enough that if Li Xiangyi wanted to leave, there was no one else in the sect who could reasonably stop him. No one but Di Feisheng.
They were each other’s perfect match; he’d known that since the day they met. Of course, Li Xiangyi had never been so clear-headed about it. Di Feisheng had known he wouldn’t agree to this arrangement easily, but he was prepared to make a strong case.
“Sect Leader Li is no longer engaged to another,” he said. “Unless word around the jianghu is incorrect. You have no other commitments, and I can offer you something you want—a state of peace which no other force in the jianghu can achieve. Your Sigu Sect and my Jinyuan Alliance, working together, can bring about the order and justice you so greatly desire. In exchange, I only ask for you. Do you value your person so highly as to refuse me?”
Li Xiangyi’s jaw clenched. Still, he spoke in an easy, humorous tone. “My engagement was only broken a month ago, and everyone already sees me as a piece of meat. There are other ways we can seal our alliance. What do you get out of a marriage that would be in name only?”
“Did I say it would be in name only?”
“What, then? Do you intend to trail me around the Sigu Sect, go traveling with me to investigate crimes and hunt down evildoers? Sect Leader Di has an interest in such things? Or am I expected to keep house for you, become a pretty concubine in your manor… I’m afraid I don’t have an interest in such things.”
“There is a valley I know of that is hard to reach, well-guarded and rarely disturbed. After we are married, I will take you there and we can fight each other until we truly know which of us is the strongest.” This was Di Feisheng’s dream. He’d often thought about it, idly, him and Li Xiangyi fighting infinitely, indefinitely, on and on, refining their moves and building their strength, rematch after rematch with no disruption. Still, he knew it would be a hard sell. He could work on that aspect later; for now he could compromise. “When we’re satisfied, we can return to our sects. Living with either sect is fine with me, or we can move between one and the other. I don’t care.”
“You’re surprisingly carefree,” Li Xiangyi said. “Well, I guess you always have been obsessed with martial arts more than anything else. But for that, you’d even give your own hand in marriage? Jiao Liqiao will cry if she hears about it.”
“Outsiders’ opinions don’t matter,” Di Feisheng said.
“You know, when people talk about the passion of romance, they don’t usually mean violence—”
“If you require other types of passion, I’m willing,” Di Feisheng said. “Whatever is required.”
Li Xiangyi really gaped this time. When he’d recovered, he said, “Ah, that’s not necessary.”
Di Feisheng felt a pang of disappointment. He hoped it didn’t show. He’d told himself, when he came up with the idea, that Li Xiangyi would probably want more out of a marriage than political advantage and endless fighting. Li Xiangyi was well known to have had a passionate relationship with Qiao Wanmian. He’d fought masters to win her tokens; he’d written poetry about her beauty that had traversed the length of the jianghu; once, he’d performed a sword dance on a rooftop for her in the middle of the night, supposedly so beautiful that all who passed had to stop and marvel at the sight. No one dared to suggest that Qiao Wanmian was no longer a virgin, but it was generally agreed that Li Xiangyi ran hot, and if he had held back thus far, it was only from a strong sense of honor. The hot-blooded young hero would never be content with a cold bed permanently. Di Feisheng had prepared himself—he was a match for Li Xiangyi in battle, and people said bed play could be a battle in its own way—
But of course, if such things were not necessary, it was all the better.
Though Li Xiangyi was very handsome, and probably did run hot. Di Feisheng said, “It’s not required by me either, but you won’t sleep with anyone else.” It was a point of pride.
Li Xiangyi rubbed his head. “Sect Leader Di, Sect Leader Di, the kinds of things running through your mind are beyond me… you really want this arrangement?”
Di Feisheng raised his eyebrows.
“Fine. I’ll talk to my advisors, and we’ll send you a proposal. There will be some technicalities to figure out.”
“Write to me within five days. If I don’t hear from you, I will assume it’s a refusal, and the truce will not stand.” In that case, he would have to return to fighting Li Xiangyi in earnest, whether Li Xiangyi wanted it or not. An image came to him—hauling Li Xiangyi out of the Sigu Sect headquarters like an unwilling bride—he smirked. Of course, Li Xiangyi would never be taken so easily. That was the reason Di Feisheng liked him so much—as an opponent.
“Sure, sure. We might come up with a counteroffer. In five days, then,” Li Xiangyi said quickly, perhaps seeing Di Feisheng was about to argue the point.
Three days later, the letter arrived. Di Feisheng wrote back, and then Jiao Liqiao and his advisors met with certain members of the Sigu Sect. (Notably not the second in command, Shan Gudao, but Di Feisheng chose not to worry about that as long as Li Xiangyi was willing and Li Xiangyi was in charge.) Papers were signed, the engagement made official. Li Xiangyi laughed and shook his head, and Di Feisheng’s heart quivered. Soon he would see that sword dance in earnest, in the valley he knew of, far away from the world, where they could fight to their heart’s content. Soon, soon, soon.
But the next time they fought, it was on a ship on turbulent waters, and Li Xiangyi did not laugh.
After that, Di Feisheng did not see him again for ten years.
Ten years from their last disastrous meeting, Li Lianhua had certain expectations as to how his reunion with Di Feisheng might go.
Ten years ago, he wanted to kill him. Now, his anger had cooled. There was no one he truly wanted to kill anymore. He only wanted to know where his shixiong’s body was buried, so that he could bury it with their teacher instead, before he was buried there himself.
He did know Di Feisheng wouldn’t give the answer easily. He expected Di Feisheng would want to fight, want to relive old battles and reignite old feuds.
He had not expected Di Feisheng to still be fixated on their engagement.
“Li Xiangyi,” Di Feisheng said, “what have you been up to the past ten years that you’re still like this? After I trained myself back to health, you chose to disregard our agreement? Do you think you’d make a worthy spouse for me like this?”
“Sect Leader Di, our engagement is long in the past. Forget it,” Li Lianhua said. “As for the past ten years, I’ve been living an easy life. Learning to cook, wandering the jianghu…”
Suddenly Di Feisheng was in his face. “Wandering the jianghu, huh?”
“Yes.” What else was he supposed to have been doing? He obviously hadn’t been with the Sigu Sect.
“And in the jianghu,” Di Feisheng said deliberately, “has anyone caught your attention in the past ten years? Since you’ve been living so freely and don’t consider yourself obligated to anyone anymore.”
Li Lianhua blinked at him. “Ahh…”
Di Feisheng grabbed his wrist in an unforgiving grip. “Though our engagement was long ago, it has yet to be broken. If you want to officially break it off, we can go to Baichuan Court and all your old advisors and take out the contract. They can have a look at your disgustingly weak body while we’re there. But I’m warning you, if you want to break things off with me, it won’t be so easy.” Their engagement had been a complicated contract; breaking it even before the wedding involved repercussions such as financial compensation and giving over some martial arts texts and spiritual remedies. There was also a clause where Di Feisheng and Li Xiangyi were required to have one last duel before the matter could be settled. Given the state Li Lianhua was currently in, that requirement would be impossible to fulfill.
Which Di Feisheng had to be aware of.
Li Lianhua gritted his teeth. Patience, patience. Di Feisheng was bound to succumb to poisoning at any moment now; there was no need for him to lose his temper. “As far as the jianghu is concerned, Li Xiangyi is dead. Li Lianhua has no engagement contract with anyone.”
(Not to mention, while technically the two sects’ alliance wasn’t supposed to start until the wedding, he still considered the murder of his shixiong the first break.)
“So you think you can swindle me?” Di Feisheng got even angrier. “Li Lianhua or Li Xiangyi makes no difference. A bargain is a bargain. Let’s go there right now.”
Li Lianhua counted on the poison to make him more tractable. It did, in part. He gave up on demanding they run off to Baichuan Court and reveal Li Lianhua’s identity. He did not give up on talking nonsense.
“This is A-Fei,” Li Lianhua introduced him to Fang Duobing. “He’s—”
“His fiancé,” Di Feisheng said bluntly.
Fang Duobing gaped. “Ah?”
“Well,” Li Lianhua tried to hedge.
“We’ve been engaged for ten years,” Di Feisheng added.
“Really?”
“We’re just old friends,” Li Lianhua said quickly. “Actually, we thought each other were dead. He was the Iron Head Slave from earlier—he fell in with bad company.”
“That’s so sad,” Fang Duobing said. “I didn’t know you had that kind of tragedy in your past. Wow.”
Di Feisheng said, “Very sad. Now that we’re reunited, we’re going to get married as soon as possible.”
Li Lianhua gave up. At least it gave a better reason for Di Feisheng to travel with them than just saying he was an old acquaintance. “There’s no rush,” he said. “Anyway, for now A-Fei’s going to stay in the Lotus Tower. He doesn’t have anywhere else to live.”
Di Feisheng snorted.
Fang Duobing didn’t really think much of this fiancé of Li Lianhua’s.
A-Fei settled into Lotus Tower like he owned it. He lounged about on couches and even on Li Lianhua’s bed with an air of utter entitlement, and if Fang Duobing tried to move him, he simply glared. He ate Li Lianhua’s cooking with a straight face, neither praising nor criticizing. Fang Duobing had wanted to see him choke on it, but since he had no sense of taste, the least he could do was be appreciative of his fiance’s efforts! And yet, nothing!
The closest he came was a spare comment he made to Li Lianhua: “You’ve been living comfortably.”
“The simple life is underappreciated,” Li Lianhua responded. “Spending ten years refining my skills at cooking and keeping house—believe it or not, it’s not easy to learn. It’s more tricky and complicated than adventuring through the jianghu.”
A-Fei nodded. Then, with an almost rakish smile—“You said you had no interest in this kind of thing.”
“Ah? When did I say that?”
“In being my pretty concubine,” A-Fei said. “Have you forgotten?”
Fang Duobing wanted to strangle him. When Li Lianhua frowned but made no retort, he couldn’t resist the urge to retort for him. “Concubine?”
A-Fei tilted his head.
“After all this fuss you’ve made about your engagement, you didn’t even intend to take him as your first wife?” Actually, while same-sex marriage was more common in the jianghu than in the normal world, the family dynamics could get a little complicated. Sometimes couples would call themselves husband and wife, other times simply partners. But a concubine was still a concubine, and clearly Li Lianhua deserved more respect!
“A-Fei is just joking,” Li Lianhua cut in.
“Li Lianhua, you need to stand up for yourself,” Fang Duobing said. “If he really wants to make you only one of his concubines, you should break the engagement off.”
“Ah, the legalities of that would be complicated…”
“Tianji Hall will pay for a good lawyer,” Fang Duobing said. “Anyway, you deserve a partner who treats you well, not some entitled layabout lout.”
“Young Master Fang can suggest a substitute?” A-Fei said acerbically.
“I can find several in a few days, if need be.”
A-Fei snorted. “Too bad. Li Lianhua doesn’t want to break our engagement.”
“Li Lianhua?”
Li Lianhua sighed and shook his head. “Fang Xiaobao, you don’t have to worry yourself about me and A-Fei. Actually, our relationship is pretty good. We’ve known each other for ten years—”
“Ten years? Isn’t that when you were separated? So you barely knew each other before that?”
“It was arranged by our families,” Li Lianhua said. “A-Fei and I were decided to be a good match. And we were going to be equal partners. No one was going to be a concubine, okay?”
If it was just a marriage arranged by their families, how come they didn’t give off that kind of feeling at all? They seemed more like either a bickering couple that had already been married for a long time, or maybe childhood friends with a longstanding agreement. A-Fei didn’t refute Li Lianhua’s statement, though. But he also didn’t elaborate on it. Maybe Li Lianhua was lying, but if that was the case, shouldn’t a man at least put some effort into supporting his fiance’s lies?
In short, there were many things about A-Fei that were objectionable. Fang Duobing was hoping things would get better when they reached Baichuan Court. The presence of others might force A-Fei to greater formality, and maybe Fang Duobing could find an honorably, courteous, kind martial arts master to tempt Li Lianhua and remind him there were other fish in the jianghu.
Instead, things got worse.
Because Li Lianhua’s eye was caught by a new and honorable martial arts master, and that master was Qiao Wanmian.
Qiao Wanmian was obviously excellent—she was a founding member of the Sigu Sect, how could she not be—but! She was already a couple with Xiao Zijin, and also had far too high a status to pay attention to someone like Li Lianhua. Oh, she was polite enough to spare him some time, but a wandering jianghu doctor simply was not on her level, no matter how widespread his reputation. It was clearly hopeless, yet A-Fei kept on looming possessively over Li Lianhua’s shoulder, careless entitlement transformed into aggressive watchfulness.
“Can you calm down?” Fang Duobing told him. “Li Lianhua isn’t going to run off on you. He’s not that kind of person.”
A-Fei huffed. “Don’t interfere between me and Li Lianhua. There’s a lot you don’t understand.”
In order to remind Li Lianhua that Qiao Wanmian was out of bounds, and also out of curiosity, Fang Duobing found an opportunity, with both Li Lianhua and A-Fei in the room, to ask her about Li Xiangyi.
She sighed. “Xiangyi… he was the kind of person who only appears once in a generation. Maybe only once ever.” A sad smile appeared on her face. “What do you want to know about him? I heard he took you as his disciple, once.”
Free rein to ask questions? Fang Duobing didn’t even know what to ask. He asked about Li Xiangyi’s habits, about his history, about the founding of the Sigu Sect, about his personality. Mostly he didn’t learn much he didn’t already know (Fang Duobing had done his research on Li Xiangyi, okay?) but it was still fascinating to hear it all from Qiao Wanmian’s mouth. A real opportunity.
Until finally, the conversation faded into wistful silence.
“You must miss him a lot,” Fang Duobing said awkwardly.
“I do. Sometimes I wish I never broke things off with him,” Qiao Wanmian said. “Though he disappeared, it hurts just as much for me now as it would if he were still my fiancé. I could have saved him some pain. He never would have had his fiancé betray him.”
Fang Duobing shook his head. “You never betrayed him. I’m sure he wouldn’t see it that way.”
Qiao Wanmian said, “I wasn’t talking about myself.”
“…what?”
“It’s a little-known fact,” Qiao Wanmian said, “but I suppose I can tell you, his disciple.” She took no notice of Li Lianhua and A-Fei in the background. They had not been partaking in the conversation, and she seemed to see them as Fang Duobing’s accessories at this point. “Before violence broke out between Sigu Sect and the Jinyuan Alliance, Xiangyi was trying to arrange a truce. We were going to have a marriage alliance. They would only agree to it if the one involved was Xiangyi himself.”
Fang Duobing’s eyes widened.
He’d never heard anything like this before. If the jianghu knew…
“Li Xiangyi was going to marry a member of the Jinyuan Alliance?” he said.
“Not just a member,” Qiao Wanmian said. “He had agreed to marry Di Feisheng.”
“Di Feisheng?” Most people remembered Di Feisheng as the Jinyuan Alliance’s sect leader. To Fang Duobing, the most relevant thing was that Di Feisheng had been the last one to see Li Xiangyi—and to fight him—before he disappeared.
And Di Feisheng was still alive. And he had wanted to marry Li Xiangyi.
Could it be that he would know what happened to Li Xiangyi? Or might even be responsible, but in a way Fang Duobing hadn’t imagined before?
The whole world was out to hunt Di Feisheng down, along with the remnants of the Jinyuan Alliance.
Fang Duobing decided, then and there, that he would be the one to find him first.
But Qiao Wanmian was still talking. “Yes. I tried to convince him—we all tried to convince him—that it wasn’t necessary. We could find another way to form an alliance, or even if we couldn’t, an alliance wasn’t necessary. Sigu Sect would fight the Jinyuan Alliance to the death before sacrificing our leader.”
She smiled again, sadder than ever. “Xiangyi said marrying Di Feisheng wasn’t so bad. He actually respected Di Feisheng as a warrior, and thought Di Feisheng wouldn’t try to hurt him. He told me…” she swallowed. “He told me he didn’t need to marry for love. I told him that even if it couldn’t be me, he could still find someone else. All he would say was that he had found someone else already. Even though it clearly wasn’t that, it was just Di Feisheng taking advantage of him, of us. But he refused to see it that way. He said that in his own way, Di Feisheng was an honorable man. But he was wrong. I wish we could have stopped him. When he found out his own fiancé had killed his shixiong, he went mad. No one could stop him from going after Di Feisheng. None of us knows what happened to him. But if his heart hadn’t already been hurting, I wonder if things could have been different.”
“So,” Di Feisheng said, “you don’t need to marry for love. Sect Leader Li is willing to graciously sacrifice himself for the good of the sect.”
Li Lianhua gave him a tired look. “A-Di, this isn’t a place to be talking about this.”
“So you’re willing to talk about it somewhere else?”
Li Lianhua sighed. “We have the information we need. We leave Baichuan Court tomorrow. I don’t really see that there’s anything that needs to be talked about…”
“You don’t have anything to say about the way you stare at Qiao Wanmian?”
“A-Mian and I have nothing to do with each other anymore. I’m just glad to see she’s doing well.”
“A-Mian,” Di Feisheng said. “You still call her like that?”
Li Lianhua said, “An old friend.”
Di Feisheng’s fists clenched at his sides.
Li Lianhua had infuriated them from their first meeting. Li Xiangyi had decided to take every burning, soaring piece of himself and tamp it down into some reserved, calculated trickster that almost felt like a stranger sometimes. Di Feisheng still didn’t know why, but he would find out. While Li Lianhua searched for Shan Gudao’s body, Di Feisheng would search for the traces of Li Xiangyi. When he’d put them back together with this stranger, things would make more sense.
But if Li Lianhua had decided to abandon Li Xiangyi, then it was only just he abandon old attachments to the Sigu Sect too. Attachment to his old fiancée, especially.
“You’re still brooding,” Li Lianhua said. “What did she say that bothered you? You already know our story. You were there for it—anyway, it was over long ago. Why worry over it?”
“Condescending.” Di Feisheng stepped closer to Li Lianhua. Li Lianhua stepped back—Li Xiangyi would never have stepped back, but Li Lianhua never hesitated to retreat. Cowardice was part of his new persona, but it wouldn’t do him any good. He’d already been standing close to a wall, and there was only so far he could go. Another step, and his heels would bump against it. “She thinks her engagement with you was so much more valid than mine. Your engagement with her was a spoken agreement, while ours was laid out on paper. It was much more established than hers.”
“You have a really unique way of thinking,” Li Lianhua commented. He took another step back, though Di Feisheng hadn’t moved, and hit the wall. “A-Mian and I had a dream of young love together. Obviously to her, that’s going to be something special, even after it’s gone. You and I had a legal arrangement…”
“You also think your relationship with Qiao Wanmian was better?”
Di Feisheng leaned forward, one hand against the wall. Li Lianhua smelled different from Li Xiangyi, even. Probably because he did more cooking and less fighting; smelled more like spices and less like blood, even when he’d been playing guest at Baichuan Court for days and barely stepped by his Lotus Tower. Li Xiangyi and Qiao Wanmian had been a perfect match, according to the jianghu. Of course, Di Feisheng and Li Xiangyi had been the better match. They were of equal strength and status; in the world, no one else could compare. But no one else had seen that. Di Feisheng had wondered sometimes if even Li Xiangyi saw that.
As for Li Lianhua, he really had no place with Qiao Wanmian—the persona was unsuitable. But Di Feisheng didn’t mind stooping to lift him up. He would become the Li Xiangyi he once was, even if he never revealed his identity to the world. In the meantime, even when it came to Li Lianhua, wasn’t Di Feisheng a good match for him? He was used to hard living on the road, or humble abodes like the Lotus Tower. He wasn’t a spoiled young mistress like Qiao Wanmian. And he could follow him—or seize him. Once Li Lianhua had cured his affliction, he had no intention of letting him run away. Qiao Wanmian was too busy with jianghu politics and running her manor to follow a wayward jianghu doctor, and too honorable to force him to stay. Moreover, she had no suspicion of who Li Lianhua really was, or, if she suspected, was unwilling to delve deep enough to really find out the truth.
Di Feisheng was not only the better match for Li Lianhua. He deserved him, as Qiao Wanmian did not.
Li Lianhua flopped against the wall as lazily as if it was a bed. Sometimes the perpetual relaxation of his persona frustrated Di Feisheng. Affected vulnerability, practically an invitation to touch or to grab. His loose-cut, slumping robes, soft and worn, so different from the well-cut, flattering, and pristine clothing of Li Xiangyi—it would be easy to grab his collar, and even if you rumpled it, no one would know the difference. Whereas Li Xiangyi gave the impression that if you were to touch his shoulder, you might leave dust on his sleeve. His sword had clashed with Di Feisheng’s more than their bodies had ever made contact. Di Feisheng had a clear memory of one time they had shook hands. Li Xiangyi’s skin looked so smooth, but his hands were hard with calluses. The skin of someone whose hand was meant to be holding a sword.
Di Feisheng had yet to touch Li Lianhua’s hands. Li Lianhua did not use a sword much. The calluses would have faded by now, ten years having passed. The weakness implied disgusted Di Feisheng, but he wanted to touch, to see if those hands would be as smooth as Li Xiangyi had always looked. Everything about Li Lianhua soft and malleable.
“Are you just going to stand there?” Li Lianhua said. “An incense stick will pass before you stop staring at me.”
Di Feisheng hadn’t set out for a staring match, but now that Li Lianhua mentioned it, he was ill inclined to move. He leaned a little closer.
Li Lianhua fidgeted. “Why be jealous of A-Mian?” he complained. “You and she never wanted the same things from me. Love, romance… you weren’t interested in any of that.”
“You were going to be my husband,” Di Feisheng said.
“In name only—”
Di Feisheng pressed his lips against Li Lianhua’s and bit.
Li Lianhua let out a shocked, complaining little squeal. Annoyed, Di Feisheng sealed their lips together. He didn’t taste blood, so he hadn’t bitten too hard.
Li Lianhua’s mouth was warm, and after the first squeal, he did nothing to resist Di Feisheng pressing against him. Body close against body, tongue moving between lips to explore. Di Feisheng had no sense of taste, but a meal like this he could still enjoy. His hand raised to Li Lianhua’s cheek, and found it hot. The passion of Li Xiangyi or the embarrassment of Li Lianhua—it didn’t matter which it was, only that Li Lianhua reacted to him, didn’t try to push him away. He even kissed back after a moment, though without much energy.
When Di Feisheng pulled away, he held his arm for a moment as he caught his breath. “A-Di,” he said.
Di Feisheng himself was still panting. But he had a point to make. “I said from the beginning. I never wanted a marriage in name only. If you thought you could get away with that, you would eventually have realized you were wrong.”
Li Lianhua wiped his lips. They were reddened now, almost bruised. “Ten years ago, you wanted this? You felt that way?”
Di Feisheng didn’t know what to say to that.
Ten years ago, how had he felt about Li Xiangyi?
He’d known touching him wouldn’t be a burden. He’d thought, if it meant he could have Li Xiangyi, it was something he could do.
Having Li Xiangyi—that was what he had really wanted. Li Xiangyi belonging to him, him belonging to Li Xiangyi. In writing, formal, so Li Xiangyi couldn’t pretend it was otherwise. So their rivalry could never end.
But as Li Lianhua said, it had been ten years.
Maybe he, too, had changed.
Li Lianhua said, “A-Di.”
“You will still marry me,” Di Feisheng said. “Once we find Shan Gudao’s body and my poison is cured.”
“A-Di, I’m not Li Xiangyi anymore. I can’t give you what you want.”
Di Feisheng leaned close again. This time, Li Lianhua didn’t flinch away. He met his eyes, cool and determined.
What did he think he couldn’t give? Fine, it didn’t matter. If there was something he couldn’t give, Di Feisheng would just have to find a way to take it anyway.
“Once my poison is cured,” Di Feisheng said, “we’ll talk.”
Li Lianhua stared at the wedding dress.
He’d lost the rock-paper-scissors, and was apparently going to be wearing it. A feeling of great annoyance and despondency swept over him at the thought.
Did it have to be such an ugly wedding dress? The color was only red by a technicality, more the color of a dark garnet (or dried blood) than a sparkling ruby. The silver ornaments on it should have been festive, but instead felt eerie, reminiscent of a midnight moon. If he’d had a choice, he would have wanted bright red wedding garments and gold ornaments—that was how he’d always pictured his wedding to Qiao Wanmian, and how he’d also pictured, vaguely, his wedding to Di Feisheng. A solid portion of his clothes were red anyway, when he was Li Xiangyi. Lively and striking, he used to love the color—that or white, the simplest of colors, the purity of the jianghu of his dreams. As Li Lianhua he rarely wore red, but at least he had better taste than to wear something like this. If anything, wasn’t it more Di Feisheng’s typical color than his?
Of course, that was beside the point.
The point was—Fang Xiaobao! Don’t you realize the situation you’re putting me in here?
The point was that Sigu Sect and the Jinyuan Alliance had spent a lot of time arguing over his and Di Feisheng’s respective positions in their theoretical marital relationship. The Sigu Sect had argued that Di Feisheng should marry into the Sigu Sect and follow its rules, an arrangement which would as good as subordinate the Jinyuan Alliance to the Sigu Sect. The Jinyuan Alliance had made a similar argument about Li Xiangyi. Li Xiangyi and Di Feisheng, having already talked over their future, had mostly ignored these negotiations, only stepping in when things got too extreme. Anyway, what mattered was the alliance, and setting things up so that leaving for a month or two to duel with Di Feisheng—Li Xiangyi didn’t think less time than that would satisfy Di Feisheng’s bloodlust—wouldn’t end with them returning to a broken alliance and the jianghu a chaotic wreck. Li Lianhua had mostly forgotten all the quibbling until now, but Di Feisheng’s smile at the suggestion that Li Lianhua wear the dress had reminded him.
Li Lianhua was not the bride in this relationship. Not that he had anything against brides. He had something against Di Feisheng, and the way Di Feisheng had been acting ever since that one kiss at Baichuan Court. Give Di Feisheng an inch, and he’d take a mile. Li Lianhua was going to have to run away very fast once Di Feisheng’s poison was cured.
Otherwise…
Well, he didn’t entirely know what went on in Di Feisheng’s mind.
Di Feisheng had found out about the Bicha poison. Properly, that should have been the end of his marital aspirations. Obviously they couldn’t have their beautiful retreat in a valley somewhere to spend a month or possibly their whole lives fighting each other. Even if Di Feisheng found Li Lianhua attractive, carnal desires had never been a driving motivation for him.
But since learning about the Bicha poison, Di Feisheng had actually grown more possessive and touchy-feely than before. Li Lianhua didn’t get it at all.
Actually it wasn’t all terrible. Di Feisheng had started sitting next to him while they were going through research in Lotus Tower, and he had a very warm and solid body, convenient to lean against. It made Fang Duobing complain, but that was honestly a plus. Di Feisheng himself didn’t seem to mind. He also had taken to putting an arm around Li Lianhua or holding his arm when they walked on rougher terrain or up a set of stairs. Li Lianhua didn’t really need the support but it was steadying sometimes, and his grip, after a few bad starts, had the right amount of strength in it, not constricting or bruising.
Still, it was better not to encourage him.
With great reluctance, he put on the wedding gown and, carefully balancing his head with the heavy crown on it, went out to see Fang Duobing and Di Feisheng.
“Beautiful,” Fang Duobing said, giving him a mocking thumbs up.
Di Feisheng also looked amused, if more darkly so. He stepped closer to Li Lianhua and fingered one of the dangling silver ornaments on his crown. “I could do better for you,” he said. “But the effect is quite nice.”
Li Lianhua slapped his hand away. “Neither of you can see anything anyway. It’s too dark in here. Hey, where’s the mirror?”
The mirror, it turned out, was outside. But seeking it out only led to more chaos. Badly placed stones, and then suddenly, out of nowhere, an attack, a palm headed towards Li Lianhua with lethal force—he blocked it, but was sent stumbling backwards, falling, rolling. Rocks hit his arms and neck, sharp points of pain amidst the confusion. He tried to stop himself, but the heavy dress kept him rolling, and then suddenly, cold water hit his body, closed in over his head.
He was sinking.
The dress was too damn heavy. He fought it with his legs, ripped the skirt—
And then there were hands gripping his arms, lifting him up. He broke the surface with a gasp, and blinked until his eyes cleared enough to see a masked face staring at him. Di Feisheng, face inches away, brow urgently furrowed. “Li Lianhua.”
“A-Fei,” Li Lianhua said, “it’s all right, you can let go of me. I can swim on my own now.”
Di Feisheng did no such thing. He dragged Li Lianhua to shore with no great grace, and hauled him out of the water. Even then, he hesitated to let go, gripping Li Lianhua’s elbows hard and almost desperate.
“A-Fei,” Li Lianhua said.
Di Feisheng tugged him into a brief, awkward hug before letting go. Fang Duobing coughed in the background.
Li Lianhua really didn’t know what was going on in his head.
The Medicine Demon only had one cure for Bicha poison.
Di Feisheng was unimpressed.
“No.” The cure mentioned would only cure Li Lianhua for one short burst of energy, maybe one fateful duel, and then nothing. There was a time he would have accepted that, but that time was long past. “Li Lianhua is going to be my husband. Obviously he has to live for a long time. Find something else.”
The Medicine Demon hemmed and hawed.
“If you can’t find the cure to the one poison I need you to cure,” Di Feisheng said, “then aren’t you useless to me?”
The Medicine Demon said he would keep looking.
Li Lianhua said, “Honestly, I expected you would go for that one.”
“Would you have taken it?”
“No.”
Di Feisheng could have made him, but that was beside the point.
He wiped away a spot of blood lingering at the side of Li Lianhua’s mouth. He’d pushed him to try various cures today, even thrown him into a pit of snakes. He didn’t regret it. Li Lianhua was tough, and if one of them had worked, it would have been more than worth it. But… He smoothed down a stray hair of Li Lianhua’s too. “We’ll go back to my manor,” he said. “I’ve sent word for arrangements to be made by the time I arrive.”
“Arrangements?”
“For our wedding.”
Li Lianhua’s expression didn’t change, but he swayed slightly. Di Feisheng steadied him. “You’re still stuck on that.”
“A promise is a promise. A deal is a deal. And you,” Di Feisheng said, “are mine.”
“You know about the Bicha poison now. Maybe I’ll die on our wedding night.”
“You won’t.”
Li Lianhua sighed. “So? Maybe I’ll live another few months, or another few years. You’ll never find a cure. I’ll never recover. Isn’t it better not to waste your time?”
“My time isn’t wasted,” Di Feisheng said. “We’ll find a cure. But even if we don’t, if you only live another few months, or few years, I’d be wasting my time not to spend it with you.”
Li Lianhua coughed. Hoarsely, he said, “When did you get so romantic?”
“Do you object to romance with me?”
“Ah... A-Di, I’m sick of fighting you. If you really want to marry me, I’ll do it. As long as you know what to expect.”
Fang Duobing had been kidnapped.
He wasn’t sure what was worse, the fact that A-Fei had kidnapped him (A-Fei, that stupid lout who didn’t know how to do anything but leer and eat food without tasting it) or that A-Fei apparently was actually not A-Fei at all.
“He’s actually Di Feisheng,” Li Lianhua said apologetically.
They were riding in a carriage. The carriage was red, and the horses pulling it were decorated with red tassels on their halters, tails and mane. Li Lianhua was wearing red robes that were much brighter than the haunted pomegranate wedding gown. Not a gown—he was dressed more as a groom than as a bride—but still somehow more expensive. Fang Duobing was pretty sure he saw gold thread in that embroidery, and pearls and rubies clustered in spots around the collar. The young master of Tianji Hall was not easily impressed, but A-Fei had dropped some money on this endeavor. Fang Duobing had also been forced into red clothes for the occasion, but they were basic and didn’t really fit, whereas Li Lianhua’s were clearly tailored.
Fang Duobing was also wearing thick coils of rope around his arms and legs, while Li Lianhua had been left free and was making no effort to escape or free Fang Duobing.
Anyway.
“Di Feisheng?!”
Li Lianhua nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was going to kidnap you for this. He said he wanted someone present to represent my family for the wedding. He’ll let you go afterwards.”
Fang Duobing was still processing. “He’s Di Feisheng—and he’s marrying you?”
“He’s still set on our engagement. Personally I think it’s not such a big deal, but since it matters to him…” Li Lianhua shrugged. He was not meeting Fang Duobing’s eyes.
“Wait a second. Why are you engaged to Di Feisheng?” Apart from the whole lord-of-a-demonic-sect thing, “Isn’t he technically still engaged to Li Xiangyi?”
“Li Lianhua is Li Xiangyi.” The voice was A-Fei’s, coming from outside the carriage.
“What?”
A head poked in. “Li Lianhua is Li Xiangyi.” A-Fei glanced at Li Lianhua, who looked pissed. “He was going to know sooner or later anyway. It’s no secret with the Jinyuan Alliance, since we’re getting married.”
Fang Duobing’s head was spinning. “You-you liar!”
Li Lianhua patted his arm placatingly. “Ah, Fang Duobing… I really didn’t mean to lie to you. It’s a complicated situation.”
“Let me out of this carriage,” Fang Duobing said to A-Fei. “What even is this? Kidnapping a bride is one thing, but why get me involved?”
Actually, if Li Lianhua was being dragged off to the Jinyuan Alliance, he did want to be there. Kind of. Since Li Lianhua was weak and could be taken advantage of. (Except he was apparently Li Xiangyi?)
“You’re his shixiong’s… nephew. Close enough to family. Anyway, he doesn’t have parents or siblings, and he won’t get in touch with Sigu Sect, so you’re the best option. Feel flattered.” The head disappeared, retreating back through the curtains. Fang Duobing cursed.
Li Lianhua said, “The ceremony should only take a day or two.”
Fang Duobing glared at him. Li Xiangyi? He had a hard time believing it. Though, there were some coincidences. Some people at Baichuan Court had seemed very interested in Li Lianhua, and asked him a lot of suspicious questions. He also knew a lot about the jianghu for an uninvolved wanderer. But Li Xiangyi? This old fox?
He didn’t even know where to begin.
“Whoever you are, you shouldn’t be marrying him,” he ended up saying. “He’s clearly dangerous. He attacked me out of nowhere and dragged me here. Also, he’s the leader of an evil sect! How can you think this is a good idea, Li Lianhua?”
Li Lianhua rubbed his chin embarrassedly. “He’s really not that bad.”
“The leader of the Jinyuan Alliance.”
“I know. But really,” Li Lianhua said. “Back then, we were talking about peace arrangements. The Jinyuan Alliance was going to change. Maybe it still can.”
Right, because apparently this was the old political alliance between Di Feisheng and Li Xiangyi. “The Sigu Sect doesn’t even exist anymore,” Fang Duobing said. “I don’t know what was going on between you, but the agreement is invalid.”
“The Sigu Sect doesn’t exist, and neither does Li Xiangyi,” Li Lianhua said. “But Di Feisheng is still Di Feisheng, and he still wants what he wants. Aiyah, who knows what to do with him. Better to just let him have his way.”
“What Li Lianhua is trying to say,” came the same voice from outside the carriage, “is that he wants to marry me. He just won’t say it.”
Li Lianhua blushed.
Fang Duobing stared. “I don’t know which of the two of you is more insane.”
The night of the wedding, Di Feisheng discovered that Li Lianhua still did run hot. At least, he did when provoked sufficiently.
It was not quite the same as fighting, but it was close enough for the time being. Anyway, there were things to settle before they could retreat off to a valley. For now, if he could hold Li Lianhua in bed, it was still as if, for a moment, they had the whole world to themselves.