As the Spring Festival approached, Xi Yu seemed to blow with a certain radiance. She discarded her white mourning robes, instead wearing a beautiful blue skirt that matched Hu Yingliu’s own. The princess ughed more, often falling into a daze when watching her; each morning, they fought for the right to the kitchen and at night, they squabbled over the key to the winery.
Hu Yingliu knew: the thing that the other had been waiting for was finished.
So, on the eve of the new year, when Xi Yu took her up to a familiar pace wall, she held not surprise in her heart but a swelling of anticipation.
Xi Yu no longer needed her help to cmber up the stone footholds. Each step was sure and steady, the silver clouds and swallows embroidered on her blue dress swaying to brush at Hu Yingliu’s hands.
The stones were hard and cold under her hands, leaving a thin yer of dust over her fingers. Her muscles — no longer as strong, no longer as powerful, not after that backfire not so long ago — strained to pull herself up.
But then Xi Yu extended a hand, a hand that she grabbed with a smile, and the princess hauled her up and over, onto the wall.
The same sight greeted them.
A world glowing a beautiful, heated gold; a sky that burned like ruby fires; a burning warmth that soothed her skin.
The endless fields of curved rooftop tiles and stars of red ntern lights sparkled like jewels below. The brilliance of the sun dyed everything in a wash of maple red and the orange of honeyed persimmons, pierced only by the powerful stems of countless pagodas and towers.
And as though to repy the scenes from a dream, she reached up behind her head and tugged off her ribbon, letting her long hair fly free. Relief sung on her scalp, her eyes drinking in the sunlight, warming winds brushing her cheeks.
She turned to Xi Yu.
The princess had been watching her the whole time.
‘Ah-Liu,’ Xi Yu whispered, bck hair and blue silk flying, ‘I have something for you.’
And then, from the folds of that dress and its silver swallows, Xi Yu drew out a pair of earrings.
They glinted in the light, a gorgeous tangle of red and gold. It was a set of red plum blossoms and golden clouds, but through every leaf and petal was a thin, soldered line of gold.
Her breath caught. ‘Xi Yu. This is…’
‘I had the pieces put back together,’ Xi Yu said. ‘I felt that repcing them was… a bit too much.’
After they had been crushed.
After they had been scattered away.
And now, the little pieces had been reassembled, held together by the finest of gold.
‘Ah-Liu,’ Xi Yu said, ‘you have accompanied me on the hardest stretch of my life. It’s because of you that I can see the world for what it is — that the throne was never my true destination.’
She reached out a hand, a smile rising uncontrolbly to her face. The other gripped it, holding it tight.
‘I love you, Hu Yingliu,’ Xi Yu said, a nervous grin on her face, ‘and you’ve shown me what happiness really could be. You’ve made me dream of a future, and it’s one I want to share with you, just you —’
A pause.
‘Ah-Liu,’ Xi Yu whispered, ‘can I marry you?’
Three answered by taking the red earrings from Xi Yu’s hands.
‘I was getting impatient, you know,’ she grinned, handing the other a bck pouch, ‘if you didn’t ask me today, I would’ve.’ She added with a chuckle, ‘Open it.’
Xi Yu’s fingers trembled as she emptied out the contents into her palm.
It was a pair of silver earrings, crafted from a delicate cluster of white lily flowers and singing swallow birds. The sun sparkled on its jade facets, but its glow could never match the beauty of the hands it was held in.
‘I had the broken earring remade into a pair,’ Hu Yingliu said. ‘And I felt that you would be the best match for it.’
She reached out and pulled Xi Yu into a crushing hug.
Her arms tightened around the other just as the other did around her; their red and blue skirts danced in the wind as they drank in the memories and the sun’s searing warmth.
‘Thank you, Xi Yu,’ she said. ‘I love you, too.’
And she pressed her lips to Xi Yu’s.
Ahrihn
