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“Move your leg forward a bit,” Zhou Fei instructs, “you cannot have your legs too far apart, nor too close. Either one will cause you to be off balance.”
Wu Chuchu bites her lip, before nodding and readjusting. Her hands are outstretched, sword gripped tightly in her right. While they had learned she was much more prodigal in ranged weapons like her bracelets and a crossbow, she needed to learn close combat.
“You’ve made a lot of progress,” Zhou Fei notes, seeing her frustrated expression. “We might be able to spar today with the forms you’ve learned. Don’t worry about little mistakes, it will still happen until you’ve made martial arts instinctive.”
Wu Chuchu nods, and Zhou Fei smiles. “Take a break, Chuchu, you’ve been at this for hours. Remember your forms and perhaps in a bit we’ll go spar.”
“Thank you, shijie,” Wu Chuchu says politely, clasping her hands around her sword and bowing.
Zhou Fei snorts. “If it were anyone else I’d allow it, but just call me A’Fei.”
She turns to leave, going back to her room before arms wrap around her suddenly.
“So, I have to call you shijie now?” A voice whispers in her ear, and Zhou Fei stops herself from elbowing back in favor of turning to grip a very familiar ponytail.
“No, you call me shige,” Zhou Fei says, with a smirk, before leaning in, “or, I suppose xianggong will work fine.”
And at that, the infamous Xie Yun blushes . “Ah, A’Fei! Stop that! Let go of my hair!”
She tugs on his hair once more before letting it go. He pouts at her, rubbing his head as he exaggeratedly winces in pain. “A’Fei, I have a sensitive scalp! It’s terribly rude to go around and pull on one’s hair!”
Zhou Fei rolls her eyes, reaching out to flick his shoulder lightly.
He drops his hands, however not losing the pout. Zhou Fei kisses his cheek. “C’mon, I need a bit of rest after all that teaching. Perhaps you could sing me a song of yours.”
Xie Yun immediately brightens, following behind her. “Alas, I’m afraid I do not have any of the Yuyi Troupe's famous dresses to perform!”
“I’m sure we can find you a good replacement,” Zhou Fei notes, making a detour to the textile workshop. Xie Yun splutters as Zhou Fei tugs him along.
Lao Niu ran the textile shop, ensuring everyone in the Strongholds had sufficient clothes. Li Jinrong had often sent Zhou Fei to work there as punishment after the bite of the whip had healed, forced to ready all the hemp for weaving. Lao Niu was ruthless in this, making sure Zhou Fei never cheated a step and punished her when she messed up.
At least, now, Zhou Fei knew how to make clothes if she needed to.
“A’Fei! What a pleasant surprise!” Lao Niu says brightly, “What are you looking for today?”
“Elder Niu,” she says, bowing to her, “My wife doesn’t have a dress for formal wear, he’s a new addition and only has a couple sets of clothes. We would be grateful if you had anything to spare.”
Xie Yun was immediately tugged along by some of Lao Niu’s helpers, giving Zhou Fei a glare. The other just offered a smile.
“We have a nice selection ready to go, but if none fits we can take some measurements and tailor something to your liking,” Lao Niu says, reaching towards some of the mannequins and showing off the dresses. “We don’t often have silk here—silkworms don’t really flourish on the mountain here—but there are a few selections that have silk hemming.”
Xie Yun inhales gently, reaching out to touch a light blue one. cross-collared ruqan, enough to pass as masculine if one really wanted it. The sash at the waste was a gorgeous color, a few shades darker than the white and blue of the rest of the garment. “That one is a good choice,” Lao Niu muses. “Go try it on.”
Zhou Fei has to remember to breathe when Xie Yun appears with the outfit, fiddling with the long sleeves. Lao Niu had even taken to tying his hair with a hairpin that matched the outfit perfectly. He looks gorgeous, to try and fit words to the feeling.
“Does it fit?” Zhou Fei asks, and Xie Yun nods. There’s a small blush on his face. “We’ll take it.” Lao Niu nods, and Xie Yun gapes for a minute.
Zhou Fei salutes Lao Niu before taking Xie Yin’s old clothes. “Thank you,” she says to the elder before they leave.
Xie Yun can’t help but wonder if this was a fever dream.
They go back to their room, Zhou Fei settling down the dirty clothes to be washed and pulling her scabbard from her back. She sits down and begins polishing it quietly. Xie Yun is silent, and finally she looks up.
“Well, I thought you were going to sing for me?” she asks.
Xie Yun clears his throat. “A’Fei I—I meant this as a joke,” he says, gesturing to the outfit.
“I thought you liked it?” Zhou Fei replies, eyebrows furrowing. “You seemed to.”
“That’s not the point!” he replies with a small squeak. “I can’t just be wearing this stuff around!”
Zhou Fei places her sword down. “Xie Yun, I have been wearing a shuhe every day since I was twelve. And you have seen my cousin’s absolute abomination he calls fashion. I don’t think anyone in the Strongholds will say anything if you wear that around.”
He swallows. “I know.” It’s barely a whisper, and Zhou Fei only catches it since she’s looking at Xie Yun.
Zhou Fei tilts her head, lips pulling into a frown. “Are you not comfortable wearing it?” She glances over to his other clothes. She knows his boundaries and he knows hers. She had needed that push back then at Yuyi Troupe, Xie Yun had read her like an open book and realized how even if she voiced her disgust, she needed to put that dress on. Perhaps it wasn’t the same way.
“Not...yet.” Xie Yun gathers his words. “I want to wear it! It’s beautiful, A’Fei, really, but I don’t know if I’m ready.” He paced back and forth, gripping the hanfu and realizing it, realizing he was bunching it and opting to fiddled with his hands instead.
Oh, well that is slightly different. “You finally pushed me into wearing dresses, it’s only fair if I do the same. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to, but it’s worth trying. C’mon, sit with me for a little bit and get used to it, then we’ll go out and everyone can see my beautiful wife’s new dress.” Xie Yun sits next to her and she kisses him gently on the lips.
Zhou Fei returns to tending to her sabre, turning it over and inspecting it for any cracks or blemishes. She runs her finger gently over the inscription near the handle. “Have you ever wielded a sword?” she asks, and Xie Yun shrugs.
“During the war, yes. A few times. I never cared for it. My martial skills relied on my hands and feet more than unattached weapons. They were always clunky and got in the way, I could never make them an extension of my arm like other soldiers could. At best, I was adequate with a knife.”
Zhou Fei sheaths her saber, nodding. “Some of the elders at the Stronghold had wanted to teach me hand-to-hand or with long range weapons, but I always wanted to practice the saber. So much that I ignore their teachings,” she laughed slightly, “I told them I only wanted to learn with a sword, I only wanted to learn a man’s way of fighting. I admired the brashness of the saber instead of the flowing moves of others. I wanted to prove to everyone that I was capable of wielding a heavy weapon and being able to fight with it.”
The space between them vanished as Xie Yun leaned in with a cheeky smile. “That sure sounds like my A’Fei.”
“It grew tiring after a while. I kept striving to be the best, fight anyone in my path. I thought everyone was trying to hold me back. It took meeting you to realize the only one holding me back was me. Now, looking back on it, I feel so silly for trying to learn the saber the way I did.”
“You found a path that worked for you, and were determined to master it. That is very honorable,” Xie Yun notes, watching as the other tries to hide a small smile.
They sat in silence for a while longer, before Xie Yun finally decided to speak.
“I think I’m ready to go outside,” Xie Yun says carefully, squeezing Zhou Fei’s hand.
Zhou Fei grips his hand tighter. “Race you to Elder Hall,” she challenges, eyes glittering. She knew full well that Xie Yun would win, even in a new dress that was still fresh and stiff, but it would relax him to be in familiar territory. She tears out of the room, running amongst other disciples and avoiding nearly crashing into them. Perhaps she would get disciplined for this, but it was worth it.
Xie Yun laughs and gives her a head start, before rushing out through the Strongholds in a flurry of blue and white.