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Ming Yi looked at her husband anxiously. Her husband stroked her cheek. “It’s okay, love. However nervous you are, I expect Mother is ten times more nervous…”
“What if she tells me she hates me again?” said Ming Yi, shaking a little.
“Then she’s lying,” said Ji Bozai. “However, I don’t think she’s going to say that. Do you want me to wait for you, outside?”
“Yes please,” said Ming Yi.
So, they went to Yaoguang Palace, and Ji Bozai kissed Ming Yi on the forehead and said, “You’re the Goddess of War, you don’t have to be nervous.”
Ming Yi bit her husband’s shoulder gently and said, “I hate that name.”
“I know,” said Ji Bozai, tenderly. “My beautiful, wonderful, amazing Goddess.”
“Hmph,” said Ming Yi.
“Honestly, you have no idea what a turn on it was to discover who you really were,” murmured Ji Bozai.
“Oh, I think you’ve proven that to me… anyway, we can discuss that later. I need to concentrate on Mother. I mean, your mother. I mean… mother-in-law.” Ming Yi grimaced. “See, it’s messy.”
Ji Bozai pushed a strand of hair away from her face. “You can handle it. Off you go.”
So, Ming Yi walked into Empress Jing Shu’s chambers, with a familiar feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. Halfway there, she paused, as she saw the woman who had been her mother sitting at a table.
Jing Shu stood and turned, her hands clasped, her regal bearing imposing. Ming Yi stared at her, her heart thudding in her chest.
“You came,” said Jing Shu. “I… I made some more pancakes for you.”
Ming Yi pushed herself to approach, her hands clenched in front of her.
“So, please sit down, daughter-in-law,” said Jing Shu.
Ming Yi looked at Jing Shu sharply. “Ji Bozai told you that we remarried?”
“Yes, Bozai told me, but even if he hadn’t, I would have guessed immediately from how happy he was.” Jing Shu pushed across a bamboo container. “I made you something, Ming Yi.”
Ming Yi opened the container and found a scallion pancake. She breathed in. “No one makes pancakes like you do, Mother—” she said happily, then broke off uncomfortably.
“I expect Jixing Abyss pancakes are not nearly as good as mine,” said Jing Shu, ignoring the slip-up. “Go on, eat.”
Ming Yi ate the pancake, making sure to make pleased little noises—Jing Shu’s pancakes really were one of her favourite memories of Yaoguang Mountain, even if she’d been poisoned as a result of her love for them—but then in an odd symmetry, she’d also been healed by pancakes.
Then they sat there silently for a while. “So how are you?” said Ming Yi, eventually.
“Better, now that I am not sequestered,” said Jing Shu. “You look very well.”
Ming Yi smiled. “Thank you.” Then she paused. “And how is Fa—I mean, his Majesty?”
Jing Shu shrugged. “The same as always.”
“Did you get permission from him, to see me?”
Jing Shu smiled slowly. “No. But what is he going to do? Bozai wouldn’t let him touch you.”
“These days, I’d be able to fight back myself,” said Ming Yi, stiffly. “I don’t need my husband to fight for me.”
“As proud as ever,” said Jing Shu, raising an eyebrow.
“I am trying to unbend a little; after all, I almost killed myself with my pride.”
Jing Shu looked startled. “How so?”
“I did not tell Ji Bozai who I was or why I needed the Golden Millet Dream.” Ming Yi sighed. “I am not very good at asking for help. Twenty Seven had to sacrifice himself, to keep me alive, and Ji Bozai and Buxiu had to help me revive him.”
“That wretched cheeky cat!” said Jing Shu, disapprovingly. “Is he still stealing things?”
“Of course.” Ming Yi beamed. “It’s useful sometimes! You know, Twenty Seven stole a piece of Ming Xin’s mirror, months before we left. That’s how we could prove that Ming Xin had poisoned me.”
Jing Shu bit her lip. “I gather… Ming Xin put the poison on your pancake.”
“Yes, the lucky pancake you always gave me.” Ming Yi sighed. “I never realised how much he hated me, until the Tea Ceremony. I mean, I knew we didn’t get along, but I didn’t think…”
“Xin’er was tremendously jealous of you, from a very young age,” said Jing Shu. “You were always your father’s pride and joy.”
Ming Yi poured some tea for Jing Shu. “Ji Bozai and I used the Soul-Seizing Technique on Ming Xin. And… it was me. I was his inner demon.”
Jing Shu swirled the tea around in her cup, her face closed, watching the vortex of the tea. “Ji Bozai told me that Mu Qibai also used the Soul-Seizing Technique on you.”
“Mm.” Ming Yi decided not to tell Jing Shu that she had been Ming Yi’s inner demon. “I picked up one of Sun Liao’s darts from the floor and shoved through the palm of my hand, so that I could resist him. There was no way I was giving in to him.”
Jing Shu made a face. “That idiot, Sun Liao! How did you let him capture you?”
“I had no spiritual power, recall!” Ming Yi folded her arms, feeling a familiar defensiveness. “Sun Liao captured my friend, Zhang Tai, and tortured her, to trap me. I couldn’t allow her to be killed on my behalf!”
Jing Shu raised an eyebrow. “A friend?”
Ming Yi smiled shyly. “Yes. A friend! I made several, all by myself, when I worked at Moonlit Blossoms.”
Jing Shu put her cup down. “You were a courtesan? Bozai said as much, but I couldn’t quite envisage—”
Ming Yi made a face. “Ji Bozai probably didn’t tell you this, but I wasn’t very good. I didn’t know the dances, and I couldn’t bring myself to flatter those arrogant idiots. It’s lucky I was used to being whipped—”
Jing Shu gave her a very strange look. “I’m surprised that you managed it at all, given the way I brought you up. You knew nothing about being a woman.” Then she cleared her throat noisily. “There are some things… some things… that I should probably tell you about.”
“Things?” said Ming Yi, with mystification.
Jing Shu focused her eyes on a spot in the distance and spoke very fast. “There-are-some-things-I-should-have-told-you-about-but-I-thought-you’d-have-to-be-a-boy-for-the-rest-of-your-life.”
“It’s okay, I worked some of it out,” said Ming Yi, awkwardly.
Jing Shu clasped her hands until the knuckles went white. “Some things. They might not be pleasant at first. But persevere and it will get better.”
Ming Yi’s mind was screaming, Oh heavens, no, no, no. My former mother… now my mother-in-law… is trying to talk to me about sex. Also, this is tragic. The problem has always been restraining ourselves from giving into lust when our relationship was uncertain, not perseverance.
Eventually she managed to say, “It’s okay. When I left here, I took a copy of the Dual Cultivation book. How else was I to know about being a woman?”
“Oh,” said Jing Shu. “You read it fully?”
“Yes,” croaked Ming Yi. “I mean… uh, I had to plan my approach, uh… how I was going to get closer to Ji Bozai, when I discovered that he hadn’t left the Golden Millet Dream lying around Wugui Sea.”
“Oh,” said Jing Shu, clearing her throat again. “That’s good then.”
“Yes,” said Ming Yi, with a skull-rictus-grin. “It’s all fine. You don’t need to worry about that. I… we… uh, we sorted those things out.”
“Persevere!” said Jing Shu. “I want a grandchild!”
Ming Yi’s jaw dropped, and she stared at her mother-in-law. “Mother-in-law!” Then she tried to recover, and said, “Not until after the next Qingyun Tournament. I have to beat Ji Bozai. He’s good—he’s very, very good—but I think I’m just slightly better.”
Jing Shu slumped a little. “That’s what Bozai said too—no grandchild for me until after the next Tournament.”
“Well, why did you ask me then, if my husband already told you that?” Ming Yi put her head on the side.
“Maybe you had a different idea,” said Jing Shu, hopefully, her eyes shining. “Maybe you wanted to have children sooner!”
“But… you don’t even like children!” You certainly did not like me. You’re the kind of woman who would have been happier without marriage and without children, but you were forced into it.
Jing Shu wrung her hands. “A second chance, or maybe a third chance, Ming Yi! Also, I hope I will be a better grandmother than I was a mother. I will dote on your child.”
“I see.” Ming Yi blinked several times.
“I want to redeem myself.” Jing Shu firmed her jaw.
Ming Yi sighed. “There’s no need to redeem yourself for my sake.”
“It’s not for your sake,” snapped Jing Shu. “It’s for my sake.”
“Fine,” said Ming Yi. “Anyway, we’re not going to try for a child until after the Qingyun Tournament.”
“Don’t forget! Don’t just try once! Persevere!” said Jing Shu, putting up a finger.
Ming Yi wondered if she could sink into the floor, but the floor was not obliging enough to open up and swallow her. Instead, she looked upwards at the roof and said as quickly as she could, “There-is-no-need-to-keep-telling-me-that.” Then she took a deep breath. Get it over with, Ming Yi. “Married life is very pleasant. You don’t have to worry about that.”
Jing Shu blinked. “Very pleasant?”
“Really, really nice,” said Ming Yi. “Suffice to say… we both read that book several times and studied it. It’s good that I stole it. You really don’t need to worry.”
“Oh good,” said Jing Shu. “I worried that I hadn’t prepared you…”
“I had a man’s body in the mirror, so I knew what men looked like,” said Ming Yi. “In the end, preparation was unnecessary. We worked it out ourselves. In fact, that was part of the fun.”
“Fun?” said Jing Shu.
“Oh dear,” said Ming Yi. “Yes. Fun. Delight. Joy.”
Jing Shu looked gobsmacked. “Not a duty?”
“Certainly not,” said Ming Yi. “Anyway, ahhh, how is his Majesty?”
“Not fun, not a delight and not joyful,” said Jing Shu.
“He hasn’t changed then?” Ming Yi sighed. “I hoped that he might rethink his approach to life after Xin’er died.”
“Not at all.” Jing Shu shook her head. “It is as if Ming Xin never existed. We are not allowed to mention him.”
“I guess that shows that Father… his father… cares in a strange sort of a way,” mused Ming Yi.
“No! His Majesty doesn’t like to think about it, because he wants to pretend that Ming Xin didn’t exist. He doesn’t like what it might say about him as a father.”
“And of course, Ming Xian never really existed,” said Ming Yi. “Easy to forget, once he’d lost the Tournament and the Veil of Illusion was removed.”
Jing Shu made a face. “I think… I think to your father… it is as if Ming Xian died. Ming Xian is the son he really grieves for, in his strange way.”
“Ming Xian died, to the extent that he existed at all,” agreed Ming Yi. “I’m Ming Yi, now. Of course, I’m very similar to Ming Xian in many ways—a good fighter, ruthless, stubborn—but I am female. I always was female! That’s the weird thing. Why did an illusion make such a difference?”
Jing Shu sighed. “Because your father… I mean father-in-law… is very concerned about superficial appearances.”
“Mmm. That makes sense,” said Ming Yi, thoughtfully. “It’s the form, not the substance, that he cares about. He likes to look good, without knowing what might make him look good.”
“It’s now that I realise that I’ve missed your clever analyses.” Jing Shu stared into her teacup.
“Well, you know where we live, mother-in-law” said Ming Yi, lightly. “You’re always welcome to visit.”
Jing Shu looked up. “Seriously?”
“Absolutely,” said Ming Yi. “Just give me a little warning so that Granny Xun and I can prepare and cook for you.”
Jing Shu beamed. “Thank you.” Then her eyes lit up, and she put up a hand. “Bozai! Bozai! You’re here! Come say hello, son!”
Ming Yi turned and saw that Ji Bozai was coming down the walkway, his face grave. He bowed to his mother. “Mother.” Then he kissed Ming Yi on the head. “Beloved wife.”
“I don’t get a kiss?” Jing Shu looked sulky.
“Very well,” said Ji Bozai, smiling slightly, and took her hand and kissed it.
“I have talked to A’Yi about grandchildren,” said Jing Shu, grandly. “After the next Qingyun Tournament, okay?”
Ji Bozai put his hands over his eyes. “Mother!”
Ming Yi smiled at Jing Shu. “As soon as we have happy news, we’ll let you know, okay? Will that do?”
“It will have to,” said Jing Shu. “Anyway, I am guessing that you need to go back to Jixing Abyss.”
Ji Bozai and Ming Yi went in silence back to their boat, and Ji Bozai helped Ming Yi board. Eventually, once the boat had set off, and they were sitting in the love seats in the cabin, he said, “It was okay?”
“Okay,” said Ming Yi. “Well, apart from the part where your mother explained the facts of life to me and… told me to persevere because she wants a grandchild.”
Ji Bozai choked, his eyes filled with horror. “Oh heavens, no! No, no, no!”
“Yes,” agreed Ming Yi, grinning. “It was the most awkward conversation ever! I had to confess that we had both read that book on Dual Cultivation and that there was no need to keep urging me to persevere.”
Ji Bozai put his head in his hand. “Oh dear. Maybe we need to give Father the book on Dual Cultivation. How will he have a new Crown Prince to replace me, otherwise?”
“I suspect the fact that your parents despise each other is a pretty fundamental issue,” said Ming Yi. “His Majesty just has to find a wife whom he doesn’t despise and who doesn’t despise him.”
“That wretched book on Dual Cultivation,” said Ji Bozai.
Ming Yi stared at him. “‘Wretched’?”
“Do you realise what a turn-on it was, to realise that you were reading that with me in mind?” said Ji Bozai, accusingly.
Ming Yi blinked. “You were aroused just by the fact that I was reading that? You mean, I didn’t need all those poses?”
“Those silly poses were absolutely unnecessary,” said Ji Bozai. “The sight of you in a skimpy gown was enough to get me excited. I had to throw a blanket on you immediately.”
Ming Yi chuckled. “Remember the look on Lord Hanfeng’s face?”
“Horror. Absolute horror and disgust. He thought we were totally depraved. It was the most tremendous fun!” Ji Bozai laughed heartily. Then he looked sidelong at Ming Yi. “Then… after he had gone, you sat on my lap in a way which…”
Ming Yi got up and straddled her husband’s lap. “Like this?”
Her husband’s eyes were wide. “Yes. Oh heavens, like that.”
“And what else did you hope I’d do?” said Ming Yi.
“At that precise point I hoped you’d do nothing at all, because we were not married and I did not actually want to be responsible for ruining your reputation,” said Ji Bozai, breathing heavily. “Now… now… it might be different.”
Ming Yi nuzzled her husband’s neck. “Mmm. It might be.”
“On a boat?” said Ji Bozai.
Ming Yi shrugged. “Why not?”
“True, why not?” said Ji Bozai, then kissed her.
Afterwards, when they were lying partially clothed on the floor of the cabin, Ming Yi laughed. “See, this is why we did not need any encouragement at all.”
“The difficulty was restraining myself,” said Ji Bozai. “That incident in the bath… but I couldn’t, not when you weren’t entirely yourself…”
“In some ways,” said Ming Yi, tracing a pattern on his bare chest with her finger, “I was more entirely myself at that moment than at any other point previously. That’s precisely what terrified me.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Ji Bozai. “I thought maybe… maybe you didn’t want me…”
“No, the problem was that I did, so badly,” said Ming Yi, her unbound hair falling over her shoulder. “Oh, I hope you don’t mind, I told your mother that she can visit, as long as she gives us fair warning.”
“Good,” said Ji Bozai, smiling up at her. “I told her the same thing.”
“Anyway, no perseverance necessary,” said Ming Yi, smiling slightly.
“I am really glad that it is you, not me, who had to have this conversation with Mother,” said Ji Bozai. “And now, let us get dressed so that Granny Xun doesn’t suspect what we’ve been doing.”
“I’m pretty sure she knows exactly what we’ve been doing,” said Ming Yi, laughing. “But, anyway… It will be good to get home again.”
“Home,” said Ji Bozai. “Home with my wife.”