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The centre of the maze can be seen from the Duke's private quarters, but only a patient man would stand on the high terrace overlooking the formal palace gardens and trace a path through the maze to the pavilion at its heart. Around it, the hedges curve like the inner parts of a seashell, and the wooden bridges and stone tunnels that cross and re-cross parts of the maze all look the same. Even the streams that feed the lushness of the lawns within the maze were created equal. No part of it is unique, except the centre.
Sun Quan descends the steps from his quarters, walks past fishponds and fountains and rose gardens, and approaches the maze. His father ordered its construction and growth. The man who conquered much of the Southland at the age of nineteen occasionally had the time to spend on more frivolous pursuits. Sun Quan remembers the days of his childhood, when he and his older brother Sun Ce would chase one another through the maze, anxious to be the first to reach the centre and claim the prize their father had left for them there.
It's been years since he last set foot in here. Too many memories, too many ghosts. First his father, laughing as he called out to his sons across the hedges, instructing them to turn this way, then that way; asking them to describe which part of the maze they stood in, which bridge, which tunnel. Over time, Sun Quan learned to recognise uniqueness in places that were not unique. Though every part of the maze is built and trained and cut to look alike, there are differences—subtle, subliminal, but there nonetheless. Sun Ce never looked that closely, and it's the echoes of his voice that Sun Quan hears now—a voice raised in frustration and anger, but also in rich laughter. His elder brother was never one to stay angry for long, his tempers as quick as summer rain. Sun Quan misses him still, an ache more powerful for knowing that while he prevaricates, his brother would not hesitate to declare war on Cao Cao.
Zhuge Liang stands at the entrance to the maze. He holds his hawk's wing fan against his chest and waits, motionless, the midmorning breeze tugging at his dusty cream robes. Sun Quan finds it oddly charming that Zhuge Liang seems so oblivious to his clothing. It is not affectation; it is a genuine disregard, and Sun Quan finds this exciting. He finds everything about Zhuge Liang exciting, and that could become a problem.
A problem Sun Quan will attempt to solve today, following a method established by his father; a method he hasn't employed for several years. He slows his pace and watches Zhuge Liang bow. When he straightens, Zhuge Liang's expression is one of wariness matched with curiosity.
Sun Quan considers halting a short distance away, just to make Zhuge Liang come to him. The thought is unworthy, and he continues to approach, walking close to Zhuge Liang. Too close, perhaps, for Zhuge Liang's eyes widen and he sways back, though he holds his ground.
"You spoke well yesterday." Sun Quan hooks his hands across the stiffened and over-sewn fabric of his waist-sash. The collection of belt ornaments, jades of green and red and palest cream, clatter as they move. "Perhaps you did not convince all of my ministers with your rhetoric, but you persuaded me."
Faint colour tints Zhuge Liang's cheekbones. He lowers his brilliant gaze. "Words are meaningless without action."
Sun Quan gives him a sharp look. "Your actions were also persuasive."
"I did not mean—" Zhuge Liang stops himself from saying more. He bites his lip hard enough to leave an imprint for the space of a few heartbeats, and then he turns his head and murmurs, "Thank you, Highness."
A distance opens up between them. Sun Quan did not intend for this to happen, not after last night. He reviews their conversation and realises he may have been ambiguous. He resolves to speak in plainer terms, so there can be no misunderstandings.
He inclines his head towards the entrance to the maze, inviting Zhuge Liang to join him. Voice brisk, he says, "Today we will have no more talk of politics. Instead, we will stroll in the gardens like gentlemen of leisure."
Zhuge Liang smiles a little, as if in self-mockery. "I have never been a gentleman of leisure, even when all my time was my own."
They pass along the narrow path. Sun Quan breaks off a couple of leaves from the hedge and crushes them between his fingers, feeling the sticky-slip of juice, inhaling the sharp green scent. "The trick to managing men is to keep them busy. It is a rare man who can keep himself busy. I admire your self-discipline."
Another smile, deeper this time. "What you describe as self-discipline, another man might describe as arrogance."
"Indeed." The path widens and forks, and Sun Quan stops, brushing the leaves from his fingers. "And yet it takes self-discipline to recognise arrogance within oneself, and to admit to it in front of another."
Zhuge Liang laughs. "Your Highness has a swift wit. Too swift, I fear, for me to indulge myself in answering."
"Yet you indulged yourself last night, did you not?" Sun Quan pins him with a look. "You were testing me. I hope I passed."
The blush returns, and Zhuge Liang seems flustered. Sun Quan is pleased by the reaction. He lifts a hand to forestall any answer Zhuge Liang might make, and continues, "As you tested me last night, I will test you this morning." He pauses and lowers his voice. "Nothing rides on the outcome of this, Kong Ming. Nothing except your pride."
Zhuge Liang almost smiles, almost makes a response, but instead he meets Sun Quan's gaze and asks, "What do I need to do?"
"Find the centre of the maze."
Now Zhuge Liang smiles, and Sun Quan thinks this is what is so charming about him—these quicksilver smiles that say so much, offer so much. For a man with such strong self-composure, Zhuge Liang's smiles reveal a sense of playfulness. Perhaps, Sun Quan thinks, this is why Zhuge Liang is so clever. His appreciation of the absurd is as developed as his intellect.
They walk together. Sun Quan clasps his hands behind his back so he doesn't unconsciously give any indication of which direction to follow. For the same reason, he allows Zhuge Liang to walk a little ahead of him, but only by two footsteps, so they can still converse easily and look at one another. He is pleased when Zhuge Liang takes the correct path further into the maze.
Zhuge Liang keeps his gaze on Sun Quan as they walk. He seems to pay little attention to his surroundings, glancing around only occasionally. At length he says, "I have never been in a maze before. Never even seen one."
Sun Quan is pleased. "At last, something of which you have no experience."
An indefinable emotion flashes in Zhuge Liang's eyes. "I am inexperienced in many matters, Highness."
"I find that hard to believe."
"Nevertheless..."
Zhuge Liang's soft insistence brings a feeling of awkwardness. Sun Quan remembers last night, the tumbled words of pleasure, the struggle towards ecstasy. Zhuge Liang had been no virgin, but neither was he too experienced in matters of pillow-sport. The memory of the tightness of Zhuge Liang's body, his hesitance and the way he grew in confidence over the course of their loving, makes Sun Quan's mouth go dry. He looks away, stares over the top of the hedges, conscious of the beat of lust inside him. He wants Zhuge Liang, wants to take him from Liu Bei. This, too, is an unworthy thought, and with reluctance, Sun Quan pushes it away.
They walk in silence. Sun Quan realises he's been so consumed by his reverie that he hasn't paid any attention to where they're going. Zhuge Liang has not made a single error yet. None of the paths he's taken have led to a dead end. None have doubled back on themselves. Sun Quan is impressed by Zhuge Liang's confidence, but still feels certain that he'll fail before long.
"Your father built this maze," Zhuge Liang says as they cross a wooden bridge.
Sun Quan nods. "Lu Su told you?"
"A guess." Zhuge Liang gestures with his fan. "The hedges are young, no more than fifty years old. They have been trained well, and are not growing back on themselves as older thickets do. The stonework has every appearance of antiquity, and yet there is not enough weathering to suggest truly great age. The bridges have been cleared of moss and lichen, but in the streams I noticed the growth of the weed. All these things lead me to believe the maze was not built by you or your brother, but by your father."
An astonished laugh breaks from Sun Quan. "You are a most unnerving man, Kong Ming."
"I hope not."
"It can be an advantage to be thought of as unnerving."
"I have no wish to be feared or misunderstood." Zhuge Liang looks at him, his gaze clear. "I am a simple man, in all honesty."
Sun Quan smiles. "The simplest things are often hardest to grasp."
They duck beneath the arch of a tunnel and emerge onto a crossroads. Without hesitation, Zhuge Liang takes the correct path. "Why did your father build this?"
"He told me once that it relaxed him," Sun Quan says. "Whenever he encountered a problem that needed solving, he would come out and walk in the maze, and by the time he emerged, he would have found a solution."
"Using one problem to solve another." Zhuge Liang nods, looking pleased. "I favour the same method."
Sun Quan gives him a look. "Am I a problem?"
Zhuge Liang draws in his breath then exhales lightly. "I rather think you are a solution."
"Flatterer." Sun Quan says it to tease, but Zhuge Liang doesn't smile. Again a silence falls between them, and this time Sun Quan seeks to break it. "My father said that a man's character was revealed by the way in which he solved problems. The maze was the first test he set my brother and I." He half laughs at the memory. "My brother was impatient. He had no wish to learn the ways of the maze. Instead, he took his knife and cut his way through to the centre. He was covered in scratches and his clothes were a disgrace."
"But you reached the centre of the maze first." Zhuge Liang's smile is warm.
"I did." Sun Quan is unable to hide his surprise. "How did you know that?"
"The shape of the maze." Zhuge Liang draws his fan through the air, sketching the outline of the maze. "There are no straight lines or corners for a man—or child—to judge where the centre might lie; therefore, cutting through the hedges might lead you in the opposite direction to which you wish to go. The quickest way to the centre of the maze is to solve the puzzle rather than cheat." He gives Sun Quan a swift, assessing look. "You are renowned as an administrator. You were the scholarly son. You would apply your knowledge to the maze, and even if you were misled, it wouldn't dent your confidence. You were a child. You had faith in yourself and your abilities. You knew you could find your way."
Sun Quan struggles with this incisive description of his past and of his character. "Yes. That's how it was."
"How it could still be," Zhuge Liang says, but softly.
Unable to respond, Sun Quan allows silence to overtake them again. They walk, and he loses himself in the feel of the sun on his face and the myriad shades of green, the blue of the sky, the gentle sound of the streams and the distant peep of birdsong. The air is fresh and clear, yet he's aware of Zhuge Liang's scent, his warmth. Perhaps it was a mistake to bring him here, yet Sun Quan doesn't regret it.
He pulls himself from the inward spiral of his thoughts and realises they're almost at the centre of the maze. At the turn of the last corner, he stops. Zhuge Liang halts his footsteps and slants him a look of enquiry.
"You've found your way to the centre of the maze." Sun Quan can't keep the glow of admiration from his voice. "No one has ever managed to do that before. Not in their first visit into the maze. Not even my father, who built it."
Zhuge Liang smiles and lowers his gaze, touching the tips of the feathers on his hawk's wing fan to his lips. He says nothing; remains humble, though his smile speaks for him.
Sun Quan needs to know: "How did you do it?"
Zhuge Liang looks up; meets his gaze. "I watched your eyes, Highness."
The answer is a surprise. Taken aback, Sun Quan blinks. He'd been expecting an explanation more akin to sorcery, involving the flight of birds or the whisper of the wind or something equally arcane. Instead, it's something simple. "My eyes?"
"Yes, Highness." Zhuge Liang smiles. "You were careful to hide your hands from me and you walked a little behind me, so you wouldn't influence which direction I took. Yet your eyes told me which way to go. You glanced in the right direction every time we approached a fork or crossroads. It took me a little time to read the expression in your eyes, so my first few choices were based on instinct. After a while, I could read you better. You led me here."
Sun Quan feels foolish. "I did not realise I was so transparent."
"You're not." Zhuge Liang gives a soft sigh. "In truth, you are extraordinarily difficult to read. But I am a patient man, and I don't like giving up."
There are a dozen things he could say in response, but Sun Quan says nothing. He indicates they should continue walking, and the curve of the hedge ends to reveal the centre of the maze. A pavilion stands at the heart, its roof an elegant swoop of blue-green tiles, its columns painted red and its lattices painted the deep, bright yellow of egg yolks. The shutters are all open, and the sunlight streams through, touching the faded silk covers on the benches.
Zhuge Liang steps up inside the pavilion and looks around. He stares at the shape of the Duke's quarters two terraces in the distance, then draws the shutter, closing off the sight of the palace. He turns to face the sun, closing his eyes and tilting back his head.
Sun Quan watches him. "My father would always leave a prize here for me."
Zhuge Liang looks at him and smiles. He drops his hawk's wing fan onto the faded covers and comes closer, his smile warming, deepening into unmistakable intimacy. "Then let us not break tradition."
He unfastens the cloth securing his topknot, and as his hair comes down, Sun Quan reaches for him.