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A thousand gleaming threads would trail across the sky in his wake, and the clouds begin bleeding in clear droplets, just as the oceans begin bleeding into the hulls of the ships. The ripples of a thousand drops then tumble and finally meet their fate, rolling across the surface of the water on their way to kiss the bank. A thousand swords would flash under a heavy heat, but a greater heat rises from the ground and swallows them. They look up, and the rain falls upon their faces, rolling down as tears as she gazes upon them. The trails of fresh ink gleam like blood in the candlelight as it settles into the paper, pages and pages of it. Then the paper brittles and yellows, and the words crumble away. They were interlocked in all things, and even Pei Ming could see it.
Pei Ming did not realize he didn’t know much about the Water Master until the opportunity had passed. He did not know, behind those dark eyes, how calculating he had been all this time. Though, he admitted that he was often blind. He thought back and he realized that the images were not as clear as he desired, but all he could do is grasp at what he could. Shi Wudu, brush balanced between his long, nimble fingers, sitting before a great parchment. Had he taken great care, slow measured strokes, appraising every twist of the river before he left his mark? Or was it more passionate, the great winding and the rapids born of one great stroke, a moment frozen in time, where he’d struck the expanse, ink spraying everywhere? Did he know the fate of each droplet of rain, its destiny and its burial place, carefully mapped across the plain? Or did he let the gravity of the earth collect it into its basins, carried under her arm to an unmarked grave?
They spoke of the duality of things, and Pei Ming knew clearly which side he was, and which their Ling Wen was. Pei Ming was a general, so he was no stranger to strategy. But in all those years, he’d learned that more than any other measure, it was his intuition that won him the most, the ideas that emerged in a sudden flourish. But Shi Wudu walked the line in between. Maybe it wasn’t much of a surprise. The great waters knew both traits, and he never showed his hand. The fan would flutter, his only answer.
Pei Ming had leaned over the table, brandishing the bottle and pouring the Water Master one, two, three more glasses. He wanted to see that spark grow from the slight crescent of his mouth until he could feel his breath against his ear. A true laugh. The pinch of those long fingers, those clean nails, as he jabbed at Pei Ming’s shoulder. “Get off me.” But his voice smiled.
The lanterns would reflect off the surface of the pool. Pei Ming watched that graceful back drift away from him, the curtain of ink black hair cascading down to meet the water below. Of course the great Water Master would always bathe, stealing a luxurious stretch from his own domain, in its moment of stillness. One was tempted to forget its great feats, the storms at sea. In this breath, the water made itself into his robes, the finest silk Pei Ming had ever seen, and then formed his throne here, even here in the dim, flickering light.
This time, it was different somehow. Pei Ming knew Shi Wudu liked the cold, but he had still felt a sliver of shock when those icy hands touched him. When he felt the closeness of his body, his breath, his hips against his. Had he calculated this, each movement, every time he responded? Or again, was it on impulse, the crack of a sudden storm? Pei Ming inhaled, the scent of a fresh mountain stream weaving itself around him. It was not the sweet perfume Pei Ming knew from behind a woman’s ear, but a whole new sense entirely. The life flowing through a tree’s roots rather than the flutter of its flowers.
But something made him pause, and hesitation was never known to strike him. His usual hunger drained through his fingers. Pei Ming was not a man of words, but he could sense the turbulence in Shi Wudu’s throat, even though his proud face would never show it.
The Water Master blinked, lashes nearly brushing Pei Ming’s face. “What is it?” His voice was flat, as if irritated.
Pei Ming’s intuition was what he trusted the most, and he felt he had no choice but to follow. He knew the Water Master would never be this forward unless he was carrying a great burden and desired to forget it. His voice came, uncharacteristically quiet. “Sure….you are the waves, you are quite powerful, but you can’t know the future. Who guides the lightning? ….the earth?”
Shi Wudu straightened, frowning. “What has gotten into you?” Pei Ming could feel him stiffen in his hands, and he knew the moment he’d been longing for was fading. But he was certain now. The glow of sorrow, distant but ever present, was always in the Water Master’s eyes, but now Pei Ming felt he could drown in it.
Pei Ming inhaled, stricken, as he knew Shi Wudu depended on him for his trivial nature. He cast his eyes down and his voice came within a sigh. “....Are you sure you can do it alone, Shuǐ Shī-xiōng?”
The ire flared across Shi Wudu’s face, a red flash, his eyes meeting Pei Ming’s, but then he pushed himself away, the water rippling around him. Pei Ming felt the emptiness in his hands like a wound.
No more words left his lips as he watched the Water Master step out of the pool, wrapping his robes back around him. His hair was dripping, dying the white silk translucent, and it enveloped him as if he were already a ghost.
Would the water go on without you? Would the water remember you as it continues to rise and fall? The General knew he was remembered on earth, immortalized in thousands of statues and altars, but the earth itself did not remember Pei Ming. The blood of the battlefields had long been washed away. Ming Guang’s blade had long been buried, rusted by the same water that sustained so many things.
Is this what supremes felt like, this tremendous roaring in their ears? No wonder they were torn apart. The pain was too much. Where was the division between heaven and hell, if heaven could carry so much grief?
Pei Ming did not know as he drew the rest of the Water Master into his arms, endless tumbling silks, waters pouring and miles of blood, and broken shells scattered all across the ground.