Chapter Text
Somewhere (Sometime) Far Away
A large crowd of children — hundreds, it seemed — were busy around a dark river, gathering flowers from its bank that bloomed in a variety of glowing colors. With every flower that was plucked from the oddly pebbled bank under the striations of the sky that seemed to be both night and day, both stormy and fair, the luminous bodies of the children lost some of their luster, growing ever so slightly dimmer. The children knew the cost of picking the flowers and the heavy weight of what came with them, but it was worth it.
Bright boys and girls chattered happily as they gathered the blooms into bundles tied with strips of fabric torn from their clothes, or put them into baskets woven from the reeds of the strange, half-dead plants farther from the river. One nimble little girl wove flowers into a crown and taught others how to weave bracelets and necklaces, and even loops to go around the slender ankles of the woman who lay still in the boat, dressed like an empress. They weren’t sure how the boat and the woman had arrived there. Sometimes things just showed up, they imagined, on such a long and winding river as this one.
Many of the otherworldly children exclaimed over the beauty of the sleeping jiejie who looked so sad in her red clothes, while others took second and third looks at her, seeing the lonely and unrestrained child she once was running in the fields and forests of a green place far away. All of them were careful as they placed the flowers there with her, making sure the blooms and the memories they carried would be secure on the long journey to come.
Some of the flowers didn’t belong to the woman, of course, but they were being placed at the periphery of the boat anyway. They belonged to the men standing on the hill, although only a few were being picked for the one wearing the official’s uniform. He had initially tried to stop the children from picking any for his sake, saying that his fate in this life with the sleeping jiejie wasn’t strong enough and that he’d wait for another. They would have other lives together. Linked as they were, there would certainly be more chances. Neither man spoke to each other very much, although they supervised the scene together without hostility. Both had ethereal red strings around their wrists that led to delicate loops on the wrist of the woman who slept. Both strings were ragged after this disastrous life, their scarlet light fading in places.
“I am not afraid to compete with you,” the deep voice had said, when the children first began to pick flowers.
“That’s not why—“ responded the calming tenor of the official, who had initially told the children not to worry about him. He was kind and steady, a contrast to the intensity of the tall man, though there was hidden kindness in him as well.
“She must have a choice,” interrupted the tall man in his white robes.
The official had begrudgingly nodded and let them pick a few of his blooms, looking at the woman on the boat with a complicated expression. Love and grief were written plainly there, similar to the expression on the tall man’s face, if not quite the same. Both had regrets. Both were disappointed. Both hoped for a better outcome for the woman than the one before, even if they would not be the ones to experience it once her journey down the river began. It would be other versions of them who would live the new life, who would eventually accompany the woman laying in the boat with all of her memories—and some of theirs.
Slowly the children’s luminescence faded as they worked, but their happy chatter continued. They were excited to do this, pleased to achieve something with the power from the various blessings and wishes they’d accumulated from grieving family members — and from a grieving country — after their own untimely deaths.
The unfortunate woman who died was the reason these two men had taken their own lives, and both men had only ever meant to do great things for the country and seek justice. The tall one had even been together with them during that dark time that they tried not to remember. He had been forever damaged by the tragedy even if he had not perished along with them back then. He was their compatriot—one of them, really. Both men deserved another chance, as did the pretty jiejie with the pitiful upbringing that had kept her from seeking what was right for her in her last life. They could see she had a strong, bright soul underneath the things that had tarnished it before.
Today the dark river was calm, with a steady, smooth current in the middle. Some days the river had swirls and eddies that made debris flow in circles or wash up on the rocks. It was an unnatural sort of river, one that made the children feel nervous. If they wandered into the river without a boat, they’d be lost. But today, it was more like a river from the real world than usual. When the boat was filled with flowers and the children were only barely glowing, the two men came down from the hill to push the little wooden craft from where it rested on the bank. The children watched with the two men as she floated smoothly down the center of the river surrounded by a riot of color and disappeared into the distance, then nodded as they each winked out, gone to their next adventure.
—
The Present Day
How odd it was for Jiang Xuening to have a room full of women helping her on the day of her wedding. Almost ten years ago in another life, she’d sat in her courtyard at the Jiang mansion alone (except for the company of her then-maids, who were terrified of her temper and stayed aside until they were asked for). That day, her mother had come by for a brief, tense moment and had practically thrown a jade bangle at her before leaving. Her father had poked his head in with a grimace afterward but said nothing to comfort her. Xuehui had been nowhere to be found. She did her makeup that day like she was going into battle. She had been right to think so.
Today the room was filled with chatter that had grown more lively once everyone decided to stop being starstruck by the presence of Princes Leyang. Shen Zhiyi wasn’t good at serving people to do makeup or hair — someone always did those things for her — so she was simply sitting by and entertaining Xuening with conversation. Lan’er was busy making sure everyone had refreshments and was comfortable, and Xuening was doing her own makeup while her mother and the uncomfortably pregnant Liu-niang each dealt with different aspects of her hairstyle and phoenix crown. Xuehui sat close by offering help where needed and straightening things that looked crooked on her jewelry or clothing.
The mood was light and joyful because Xuening was getting married to someone she loved…and because no one other than her and Xie Wei knew she was pregnant—except for Lan’er and too-smart Xuehui, of course, but they wouldn’t say anything. Her mother would still have been here in honor of the imperially-decreed marriage and on account of their modestly improved relationship, but she wouldn’t have been this good-natured. Zhiyi would have been overly concerned if she knew and probably would have acted like even more of a mother hen than she already was. Liu-niang would have been busy acting like a mediator between everyone when the thing she needed to do most was rest and avoid stress.
As happy as Xuening was to be living this blissful life, the dream she had the night before was weighing on her mind and pulling her away from the joy of the moment.
The dream was different from any she’d ever had, with a distinct feeling of reality. On a snowy night, she saw Xie Wei stand up from where he’d been working on some sort of documents with a look of solemnity. In his white clothes his appearance was almost ethereal, filling her with longing. He strode outside with his breath clouding in the air, not looking affected at all by the falling snow. The dream ended with him slitting his throat and falling into a freshly-dug grave surrounded by other headstones that looked vaguely familiar, blood dripping on the ground then pooling around him where he lay. The knife he held was familiar too, as was the ornate gold hairpin. She saw his face change from solemnity to relief as his breath left him and she woke with a gasp, still somehow feeling the chill of the illusory night.
At the Jiang mansion she hadn’t been allowed to stay with Xie Wei since they weren’t yet married (and having accomplished his goal to lock down marriage, Xie Wei didn’t fight it and went back home), so she woke up alone. She desperately wanted to see her husband-to-be to ask about the truth of what she’d seen, but they would not be able to see each other until they were wed.
Part of why the dream affected her so deeply was because she knew how it all must have felt. She didn’t want to think of her beloved person feeling the same unbelievable pain and then the desperation of choking on blood, of gradually feeling colder as oblivion pressed down and stole his senses away. Did he know? Had he seen his own end? That dark thought plagued her until Zhiyi shakily drew her bridal huadian (not quite a traditional choice, but Xuening didn’t care—it was her wedding and this friend was closer to her than family). She was thankfully present in the moment when the Princess took one final look at her and wiped the tears from both of their eyes, then escorted her outside to be put in the bridal sedan chair.
Xuening could hear the reedy sounds of suona and the beating of drums, along with the noise of a cheerful crowd of people outside. Residents of the capital who lived nearby were ready to witness the second Jiang daughter’s grand bridal procession and receive some of the coins and gifts that would be thrown along the path to the Xie mansion. They were excited to wish the new couple, whose marriage had been decreed by the Emperor himself, good fortune. It was a joyous day.
The Jiang daughter in question was in another world and lost in her thoughts as the ritual of the day commenced in truth. She wanted to see Xie Wei, wanted to ask him what he knew about that life, and when he knew it. But when she finally saw him waiting for her with an outstretched hand, the desire to ask anything at all disappeared. Even with the crowd of people there to witness the rituals at the auspicious time, she saw only him.
Xuening didn’t see the handsome official whose heart broke as he recognized that they would never find each other in this life even as he wished her the very best of everything, nor the sad smile of the young, energetic man who knew that the woman walking in front of him was never meant for him. She didn’t even see the good-natured prince who had once been the one holding her arm as she walked over the saddle and observed the other rituals on the way to a different wedding hall.
This time her heart was fluttering with anticipation as she waited in the lavishly decorated bridal chamber of the Xie mansion. She didn’t have to wait long. She was almost dismayed to see how quickly Xie Wei came for her, wondering how badly he’d snubbed all of the attendees and how few toasts he must have taken. Shen Jie had taken hours, reveling with his friends and relatives while she waited under the stern eyes of the palace etiquette nanny before he came back almost too drunk to perform. Her two weddings couldn’t be more different, but no one would say anything about this one. There was a fine party planned, with wine and food enough to keep anyone satisfied even without the presence of the imposing groom who wasn’t usually a lively addition to parties anyway.
She put down the fan that blocked her face and looked up at him with a wide, toothy smile that no one would have described as demure. But the time for demure behavior had long since passed between them. Perhaps there had never even been such a time. In this man’s heart she had been his wife for years, even if she didn’t know it yet. She knew that fact very well.
Xie Wei was a vision of masculine beauty in red with golden embroidery, looking even more stunning than he had the night he had shocked her at the palace banquet. The intense, lovely eyes. The thick black hair against his smooth skin, pulled completely up into the crown so that his defined jawline was even more pronounced than usual. The lips that were always so full and red, putting hers to shame without any makeup. She had the sense that he had selected his garments carefully and paid attention to every detail, even down to the style of his crown that mirrored elements of hers and the embroidery on his shoes. He wanted to look his best—for her.
With her delicate condition, the common wisdom said that consummation was not allowed, that it was dangerous for the fetus. But the surprisingly enlightened imperial physician Xie Wei snagged from the palace said her constitution was strong and her child was secure based on her pulse and body condition, and that there should be no issue if things were not too unrestrained on their wedding night. So after drinking tiny sips of the wedding wine and cutting and tying locks of their hair to be placed in a special box, they swept the nuts and fruit from the bed and laid down next to each other.
In the moment of quiet before she knew Xie Wei would commence his usual conquest of her, she asked,
“In your last life…did you kill yourself? Have you dreamed of it?”
“What an inauspicious question, wife.”
His hand was detaching the heavy phoenix crown from her hair, smoothing down the strands after each intricate part of it was removed from its knots and pins.
“I saw you…in the snow. I can’t stop thinking about it. Please, just—“
“I did.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know everything about the motives behind my actions in that life,” he said. She knew his expressions well enough now to know that he was being evasive.
“But you do know why you did it.”
“I do,” he admitted.
“Then why?”
“I…owed you a life. You should not have died. I should have protected you. I thought I could find you in the netherworld and accompany you there.”
So that was why he looked so relieved as he died. The rigid moral code that lived within him demanded that he pay her back, and once that inner requirement of his was satisfied, he was too. She cupped her face in his hands and kissed him, thinking of how absurd and obsessed he was. He was so ridiculous.
“You’re accompanying me now. I hated seeing that, husband.”
“Say that again,”
“I hated—”
“Not that. The last part.”
“Ah. Husband.”
He kissed her neck lightly, making her giggle. She heard him say “again” into her skin.
“My husband.”
The complicated wedding garments began to peel off of her with increasing speed, and she cried foul once she was yet again completely undressed while he was not. He stopped and let her remove his crown and undress him with good grace, much more cooperative than usual, then laid back down next to her under the heavy covers. There was a slight chill in the room, and a pregnant woman shouldn’t get cold.
Even as his hands were careful and his body much gentler than usual, she couldn’t restrain her loud cries of “husband,” for hours that night, both when he asked her who he was to her and when he wasn’t asking at all. She had long since realized that being the wife of Xie Wei would take a great deal of stamina. It was for the best she had decided on a business that required so much physical activity in this life. Working in the soil, planting, traipsing through the forests—all of that had made her much stronger than she had been before. She wasn’t the phoenix in the inner palace with the brittle, beautiful shell who could shatter with a single blow.
In this life she was tenacious like the wild flowers that bloomed in the soil of Tongzhou. Her body. Her mind. Her principles. Her family ties. All were stronger and more complete, leaving her ready to grab the powerful, daunting man who had claimed her whole heart with both hands.
—
Five Years Later
The largest pavilion at Mudanyuan was practically overrun with children. Her twins, Xie Tian and Xie Yun, wreaked their share of havoc on the platters of snacks before rejoining her youngest siblings—the ringleader Tutu, her other younger brother Chengcheng, and her little sister Xuelan—in running with silk streamers and pinwheels. The youngest girl of the Jiang family was spoiled rotten, a favorite of her father, biological mother Meng-shi, second mother Liu-niang, and both of her brothers—and was a major rival for Xuening’s daughter Yun’er for general attention.
It was good that a little friendly niece/aunt rivalry was the only rivalry that existed in their extended family. During those months after her wedding, Xuening worried that her mother would bear a son after Liu-niang bore her second son only months before. Then there would have been three sons. She could only assume that such a turn of events would lead to Meng-shi becoming obsessed with ensuring her son had the proper status as the son of the first wife and heir of the Jiang family, but she had delivered a tiny, healthy daughter more than a month early instead. The disaster had been averted and the family remained in harmony.
The day her mother had the baby, Xuening was still in the capital and came to visit and check on her despite being heavily pregnant herself. She saw her mother looking so pale and drawn in the bed and worried for her health, but the beatific smile her face wore at the new daughter cradled in her arms lit up her whole face. It made her look years younger. When Xuening approached, she saw her mother’s eyes fill with tears as the smile fled.
“How could I not have known?”
Meng-shi’s words were so quiet, Xuening almost didn’t hear them.
“What do you mean, mother?”
“How did I not know whether I held my daughter back then? How could I—”
Her mother’s words broke off and tears fell on the face of the new little girl. The joy had turned to pain as her mother thought about the past, but perhaps speaking of it would help.
“What happened, back then?”
“It was a hard delivery. I lost so much blood—the doctor said I was injured and would never have another child. It was so hard to keep my eyes open. I couldn’t even hold you…”
She trailed off with quiet sobs, staring intently at the baby’s girl’s face like she was trying to memorize it. There was deep trauma just under the surface here, and Xuening’s presence had brought it even closer.
“Oh, mother…don’t hurt your eyes with crying. It’s all in the past. I’m here, aren’t I?”
Xuening came to sit on the side of the bed, grabbing her handkerchief to dab at her mother’s tears so they wouldn’t fall on her new little sister. Her mother gathered her composure a bit before continuing,
“When you came back, I didn’t know what to feel. I wanted to give you everything Xuehui had, give you the benefit of a good education, help you become just as accomplished and make a place for yourself in the capital. But…you didn’t want any of that.”
“I’m not like Xuehui, mother.”
“No, you’re not. There’s a fire inside you—a little like me, I think. I saw it right away, but I also saw how you hid it. How fast your mind was always working, how much you guarded against everyone. When I imagine what must have happened to you to make you this way…”
Her mother’s imagination wouldn’t be able to capture the half of it.
“My time in the countryside was sometimes…difficult. There were some good moments, of course, but I can’t pretend like I was not affected. But those things in the past are over, mother. There are many more years in front of us.”
“But don’t you resent me? I didn’t know my own daughter! I was so petty…”
“Yes, I resent you.”
Her response was like a slap in her mother’s face, she knew, but she needed her to know the truth. Lies would do no one any favors, because every stilted interaction between the two of them would reveal the reality.
“Our relationship can never be the same as a normal mother and daughter. But as I said, I’m here. I’ve come to see you. You will have grandchildren soon, and they will want to know you. Why dwell on what can’t be changed? In ten years I will have spent as many years as your daughter as I spent in the countryside. I wonder how things will be then?”
Her mother nodded, taking in the words. Her little sister’s dark eyes had opened while Xuening was speaking, and she was mesmerized at the sight of them. They were shaped exactly like hers. This was her full blooded sister. This little impossibility—this unexpected divergence—was yet another sign that things didn’t have to be the same. Seeing those eyes open was one of her most precious memories, one she thought of now as Yun’er and Xuelan-meimei ran between flower bushes and laughed in the high, wild way only happy children could laugh.
Xuening was pleased to see that Yun’er wasn’t fighting with her aunt and rival this time. Both girls were engrossed with trying to trace matching flowers in the air with the pink silk streamers they held, giving her a break from having to scold someone for not playing nicely. She sorely needed the break because she was pregnant again and exhausted, although with the differences in her body this time she didn’t think she was due for twins. Xie Wei had been so smug when she had begun to grow much larger than she should have back then, knowing twins rested in her belly even before the physician told them. He had loudly attributed it to all of his hard work in front of the red-faced doctor, which made her smack him for the shameless words.
He was wrong, anyway. Xuening’s new friend You Fangyin — who she’d met in this life when the budding business tycoon from the other world purchased one of Xuening’s most expensive ornamental peonies and demanded to visit the estate and see what else was for sale — said the reason had something to do with two eggs being released inside the body to be fertilized. Xuening said she didn’t like thinking about how people had eggs just like chickens and wondered what it meant for a person to be fertilized, but Fangyin laughed and told her it wasn’t really the same thing. Either way, Xuening insisted she was the one to credit (or blame) for the presence of not one but two opinionated, brilliant children that they all doted on.
The tradition to visit Xuening’s estate in the summer had become a regular thing for the Jiang and Xie families so that the children of a similar age could all interact and enjoy the pleasures of countryside living. Farm animals were a hit with children of all ages and the girls especially loved helping with the flowers—even if they hated the fertilizer. Xuehui had moved to the northeastern province where her scholarly husband had become an official and did not yet have any children, so she wasn’t present. According to Meng-shi’s perennial favorite fortune-teller, her sister’s children could be expected to come at any time.
Thanks to the expert strategic guidance of Xie Wei and increased strength of Da Qian after the eradication of the rebel forces that had been siphoning military resources away from the border army, the Yue kingdom wasn’t a threat in this life. Shen Zhiyi was here supervising the chaos of the Jiang family children and keeping Xuening company with an indulgent smile rather than languishing in a doomed diplomatic marriage.
Xuening invited her to stay and keep her company since Xie Wei wasn’t able to be present. Due to Shen Lang’s worsening chronic illness, there could be a change of ruler any time. Thankfully there was a healthy crown prince in this life, but an emperor’s death always came with turmoil. The boy would need to take the throne under the guidance of Xie Wei and the other officials until he reached an age to rule on his own.
She’d been missing her husband terribly, but the presence of her family and very best friend was consolation enough. She was smiling at the sights and sounds of all of them, at the fullness of her life, when a familiar voice said “Ning’er,” right next to her. She’d been so lost in thought she didn’t notice the arrival of her husband.
“You’re here! But what about the Emperor?”
“He’s stable again. I wanted to come see you.”
“When do you have to return?”
“Just a few days. Yun’er seems to be acting nicely.”
“Yes, she and meimei are being good girls today.”
“And you?”
“And me, what?”
In her ear his voice asked, “Have you been a good girl?”
He was incorrigible. But so was she.
“I don’t think so,” she said with a smile. She was pregnant so he couldn’t do his worst anyway.
As the children played, her husband’s full lips pressed a kiss on her cheek in front of everyone. Shameless man! Their son saw the affection and made a face of disgust while her husband chuckled beside her and her cheeks burned.
There was never a dull moment. Wasn’t that something?