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Just one of them was strong.
But she couldn’t see it.
Just one of them was unyielding.
But she didn’t know him well enough to realize that it was she who had already made him yield.
Just one of them had the strength of will to defy Fate.
But all she saw was him and not herself.
Not herself as he saw her. Not herself as he loved her.
Dong Hua had never met anyone like this determined, ever-hopeful, young princess.
The Dijun he had been before meeting Bai Fengjiu had no trouble ignoring the long line of fairies, one after another, who had sought to entice him. He couldn’t remember any of them now. Not a single one. He had simply outwaited them. Dijun had neither sent them away nor paid them any attention. They had been like blossoms on the trees in the garden of Tai Chen Palace: there at times, then not there, and then there again with the change of the seasons. What difference had it made to him?
But it was impossible for him to ignore Fengjiu.
He should have left her waiting outside just now, as he had done with all the other goddesses who had haunted Tai Chen Palace, desperate for his attention. Many of their fathers had come to beg exactly what Bai Yi had just begged of him. Dijun had had no trouble leaving them to wait until they gave up. Because they did give up, every one.
Just one had refused to give up on him.
And so Dong Hua had called her forth to rebuke her.
She could not see that she had just shown greater strength of will than he. Dijun did not worry about lovesick fairies lingering outside his gates. This had never caused him even the slightest shame. He had left them all where they were.
Only Fengjiu had he called forth. He had cloaked his weakness in a rebuke, demanding how long she would be like she was – forever holding out hope. Yet he was the weak one. He had called her forth because he could not leave her waiting outside as he had all the others.
Dong Hua had yielded to her persistence, but she could not see that, because she had not seen him ignore all the others.
She had not seen how he had reached for the dream of her.
She had not seen him tremble when the fantasy of his beloved Jiu’er had vanished just as his fingers had been about to grasp the one desire in his heart. Dijun was said to be made of stone. He knew this. He had heard the whispers and fables for most of his life. But a stone did not tremble. Not unless the earth itself shook.
Dong Hua had trembled for his Jiu’er.
Dong Hua had been forced to deflect her defensively. He, who had unified the realms, and who had led armies to victory, had been put on the defensive by this earnest, young beauty who asked him questions he could not answer while looking her in the eyes.
If you don’t like me, why did you go to the shabby hut?
As with so many truths, the answer was simple. He did love her.
He loved her so mightily that his own strength of will might have failed him if he had looked at her then. And he would have sacrificed the realms unto chaos. So Dong Hua had averted his eyes. With all others, Dijun’s mere presence was so commanding that they bowed their heads and kept their eyes lowered.
With Fengjiu, it was Dong Hua who had averted his eyes.
At least until she came so close to the truth that he could only save himself by scolding her.
By raising his voice.
Su Jin had enraged him when he had seen her torture Fengjiu in her fox form. Yet as with so many others who had earned his wrath, he had delivered his warning to Hao De’s ambitious concubine calmly. Dijun’s stature roared; he did not have to. Only one immortal shook his resolve and troubled his peace enough to make him raise his voice – always the desperate ploy of the losing argument. Only one immortal had come so close to exposing his secrets and his weakness.
Just one.
Just one who refused to listen when he insisted there was no hope.
Just one who refused to believe him when he said their marriage had been real only in her own heart.
Yet she was so young that she did not recognize the moment of her victory and his defeat.
He had told her there was no hope. He had insisted their love was only real in her heart. He had shouted at her: Enough!
If it truly was enough, he could easily have stopped her.
If he had wanted to ignore her, the best strategy would have been to leave her waiting outside his palace gate.
But it was Dong Hua who had called her forth.
And it was Dong Hua who did not stop her when she stepped closer and kissed him.
Dijun did not suffer anyone to accost him.
Other immortals maintained a respectful distance from him. Dijun sat while all others stood.
Just one immortal in all the realms dared to touch him.
Of course Dijun could have prevented her.
He hadn’t.
Because Dong Hua had wanted her to kiss him.
As soon as he saw her closing the distance between them, as soon as he had understood her intent, Dong Hua had stilled himself and let Fengjiu kiss him.
Dong Hua had permitted it, and in so doing had proven true everything that his Jiu’er had just said. He could not let her go.
If he could let her go, he wouldn’t have let her kiss him.
Dijun certainly had never let any of the thousands of other goddesses who had yearned for him do such a thing.
Just one.
In the end, she fled in tears when she thought that she had forced her father to humiliate himself. Yet she was already the victor, and Dong Hua, the vanquished. Her strength of will was greater than his, for she had the power of truth. She insisted that he loved her. And she was right.
Dong Hua would never stop loving her.
That was why he stood as still as a statue and let her kiss him.
In his weakness, he could not push her away or restrain her as he should have.
In his weakness, he could not resist the chance for one more moment with her, one more kiss from his beloved Jiu’er.
Just one.