𝔗𝔥𝔢 ℌ𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔥𝔢𝔫「红颜祸水 & 锐不可挡」|| ƒᴇʀᴀʟ x ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏsᴏғᴛ

ƒeral · Jun 19, 2022

It was funny, that whole song and dance of bashful overture. Or, it should have been funny, but Zhaoyang did not find amusement in the same. Whether because she knew better - Chao’s hatred a night prior had been much more genuine - or whether just because she scoffed at the idea of meekness, this particular performance found her wearing that now familiar mask of derisive indifference.

In comparison, Kaixuan was an absolute gentleman. “Oh, no trouble at all,” he flashed a winning grin, eyes bright like a child fixating upon a skewer of glossy candied apples. “We were just talking about how, now that spring is nearly upon us, perhaps it would do the entire estate some good for a daoist master to come and perform a rite to welcome the spring. I figured, hey, what better way to dispel some of the negative energy around.” That was to say, there was no worse fengshui than a murder stinking of voodoo and devilry. From behind her desk, Zhaoyang scowled. The plan was no great secret, but she was never a fan of the incessant way Kaixuan liked to wag his tongue, as if he desired the entire world to acknowledge his acumen. That, or it was so ingrained in him to show off before any would-be-lays that he simply could not help himself.

Either way, she waved a hand, as if shooing a pesky insect, dismissing the both of them. The way Chao all but flaunted herself to Kaixuan annoyed her; all such displays of libertine latitude tended to. By nature, men are nearly alike; it is by custom and habit that they are set apart. The Analects - Chapter 17. Perhaps she should find time to ensure that Kaixuan is keeping up with his studies. Wishful thinking at best; if there were anything the two siblings had in common above all else, it was stubbornness. Kaixuan was as set in his ways as she was in hers.

Which was…fine. There were worse shortcomings than an overzealous proclivity for bedding women. Had Zhaoyang known the details of precisely what ‘bedding’ entailed, perhaps she might have harbored different thoughts on that matter. But in the House of Shen, anyone of any significance had at least a few different facades, and it would not be until the door closed that Chao might come to grapple with the astringent truth - the brother of a wolf, logically, must also be a wolf. And a wolf that smiled was the most vicious of them all.

『 Three days later 』

The charlatan - ahm, Daoist master Wang Li - spent most of the day just setting the stage. A purification ritual, he said, because sprinkling ‘holy water’ and burning ‘life-giving incense’ were just what the Shen estates needed to reverse the ‘curse’. Zhaoyang nearly struck him when he dared to use that word in front of the servants. He had been lucky; had Han Shu been in attendance, he would be missing a few teeth for using such an ignominious word just to upsell his services.

As it were, all of his mumbo-jumbo appeared good for something at least, because the servants buzzing about seemed almost relieved by his presence. If Wang Li asked for a vase, they brought three, and no shortage of volunteers assisted him in preparing the scene. Festive tassels and ribbons were hung from tile to tile, jars filled with bamboo-scented water. The daoist himself flicked his pretentious duster all about, directing his disciples and Shen servants alike. Superstition. Zhaoyang hated to see it. But then again, she also seemed to loathe just about anything that moved.

The ritual proper did not begin until after sunset - something about cosmic alignment empowering his mysticism. Because he needs nightfall for his ‘lightshow’ and melodrama. She supplied mentally. A waste of the space he occupied, such was her assessment of him. But, even a fraud could be repurposed into something useful. Whereas Kaixuan had solicited Wang Li’s services to pacify the estate, and more importantly, his wife, Zhaoyang had agreed with an entirely different agenda in mind.

Captain Wu’s death weighed heavily on her psyche; not because she cared for his life - a military officer who could not even defend himself deserved dishonor to his name - but because of the implication. That someone yet unknown had the cajones to not only assassinate, but to entomb death with illusions of black magic within these vaulted walls, was problematic. Not to mention depositing the body in her wing; that part offended her beyond words. Whoever went such length demonstrated not just technique, but hubris, to risk getting caught in the name of maximizing effect. And it was that hubris Zhaoyang sought to prey upon.

“Heaven and earth were born simultaneously to I, and I am one with ten thousand beings一”

Listening to Wang Li chant nonsense was seriously making her itch to shoot him instead. She gripped her bow - 霸王弓, the Oppressor - tighter, dispelling that urge. Legends said that this bow was crafted from a metal called Xuan Tie, and stringed with the sinew of a black serpent. Whether any of that was true, Zhaoyang had no way to ascertain, and, frankly, did not much care. What mattered was that this was a damn good bow. Heavy, sturdy, onyx polished to a sheen and modified such that the edges flanking the center grip were as sharp as any blades. Out of all the various treasures she had been presented with throughout her life, this was one of the few that she actually appreciated. The bladed bow, from tip to tip, was as tall as Zhaoyang herself, requiring enough strength of arms to draw that a man twice her size would struggle with. But not her; such was the beauty of martial arts, of chi, of that fundamental lifeforce that empowered and vitalized all that there were, all that there would be.

Power aside, archery was also a discipline that required the utmost patience and concentration. The element of surprise was something Zhaoyang frequently wielded in warfare, and, while it seemed rather overkill to employ the same here for a mere murderer, she nevertheless set up her nest in one of the empty erfang overlooking the courtyard where Wang Li performed his ritual. It was a gamble; there was no guarantee that the killer would show, but Zhaoyang’s gut declared that such a cocky assassin wouldn’t be able to resist the promise of inciting greater chaos. And besides, with the Qin beaten back, her life lacked excitement. As much as this could turn out to be an incredible waste of time, laying in wait was, if she were being honest, more enjoyable than paperwork.

She hid behind an opaque shoji window, with all the lights snuffed such that her silhouette did not project out. A single hole pierced into the decorative pattern allowed her to see out, but not for the outside to peer in. Given her intentions, she forsook elaborate courtly robes in favor of just a tight-fitting middle robe. Black as night, black as her bow, cinched at the waist with a full quiver belted to the same.

Come.

prettysoft · Jun 24, 2022

Chao warmed her futon with the wolf’s brother for the next two nights, stroking his ego, offering praise to the man’s insatiable appetite. Hard-pressed to admit that her disdain for Commandant Kaixuan surpassed the pure, acidic hate in her heart for Commandant Zhaoyang, she fulfilled his requests with less venom than she offered to Zhaoyang. She treated him nicely, treaded lightly to earn his favor and accrue information on the Wei. The brother locked his secrets up and destroyed the key, but there were other routes to take. Several servants opened up to Chao, and Hu-er appreciated Chao stopping by for tea after she angered both siblings with her impromptu announcement. The unlucky servant feared the worst, that her job and rank would be stripped and tossed onto the rice fields. That she would work to the bone in the sun, but Chao assured her, “Lady Han Shu would not let harm come to you. I am here for you.” The encouraging words healed the servant's spirits and created an ally out of a potential enemy.

Chao’s mission, first and foremost, is to cause discourse and disrupt the daily lives of the Shen. A chink in the armor that would allow the Qin to seize control over Wugui city, and right their losses at the hands of Wei military. Making nice with the servants and courtly members assured a way to weasel into the cracks.

Tonight, a Daoist master will exercise a rite to clear the evil spirits. He flaunted in the courtyard all day. A proud sort. Chao twirled her hair around her slender digits, inking rice paper with elegant calligraphy, quite similar to the posthumous writings on the previous page. As a small memento to the real Chao, she continued her journal with an entry every evening. She sprawled out like a frog on a lily pad; courtesy of the new bed, and soft sheets on Zhaoyang’s tab. Chao didn’t thank her, or mention it during her rendezvous. Out of respect for Lady Han Shu and at the orders of Wang Li, everyone stayed in their own quarters for the rite. Kaixuan stayed home to comfort his wife, which gave her ample time to plot and proceed with her goal to stir the pot.

What is more frightening than a dead monk and a cursed estate? Chao sealed the journal shut, concluding her thoughts with a wave of her hand. Leaning over the edge of her bed, she peeled the tatami mat back and placed the booklet on the outer corner of a secret compartment. The notebook provided Chao with three new inner chi-moves that could not be learned at a monastery or espionage training, and she stowed it away to protect the enlightening passage. As natural as wanting to preserve one's life, her livelihood and spy journal was a treasure trove of information. If anyone ever found it, her life would be forfeit. She arranged porcelain trinkets around and unveiled a dark outfit tucked in the recesses of that niche, flapping it once and twice to shake the dust from the cloth. In her naked state, the butterfly motif glimmered only in the unfiltered moonlight, invisible to the naked eye. A grape hued silk concealed the silver-colored patch on her right breast; tight-fitting and stretchy fabric adorned her willowy waist and buxom breasts, high slits on her mini-skirt allowing for maximum mobility. A loose fitting mask concealed all but her eyes, and a fraying headband shielded her forehead, masking the braided crown and plaited ringlets.

Chao drifted into the night, icy gaze scanning the statues and trees; rooftops and dark corners. She tasted the night air on her tongue, stilled her breathing and concentrated chi into her wooden clogs. Running swiftly, Chao traversed the gardens unseen, dipping into the moving shadows and sneaking past the frozen streams. There wasn’t a flicker or flame from any of the windows high or low, not a single movement in opaque screens. The canopy of clouds dimmed the only light source, but the dark only served to make her task simpler. Scaring Wang Li, might be as good as killing him. Chao propelled herself skyward, her lithe frame leaving the skinny branch she landed on unmoved. Her left knee tapped the bark as she knelt down, retrieving a bamboo blowgun and placing it between her lips. Like an owl stalking a rodent, her lilac irises locked on the gesturing man. She expelled a sharp gust from her lungs and a dart honed in on an ornately painted vase. Bamboo water splattered on the tables and glass clunked at Wang Li’s feet, his lap soaked and robes drenched. She chose another dart, a blackened tip dipped in a homemade poison.

“Cursed spirits.” Wang Li’s prayer beads swung left and right as he searched the courtyard, holding a holy talisman in his trembling hands, as if it might protect him. His complexion whitened, and he shouted into the darkness. “The holy sacrament must commence.” Wang Li tripped over his feet and into the light of a lantern, clutching his prayer beads and paper talismans..“I am one with a thousand beings. Chain this spirit to the ground. Leave the Shen residence!” Wang Li pushed his finger tips together, a concerted effort to vanquish the spirit and end the chaos.

Chao aimed the next dart at Wang Li’s exposed collar, but the sight of the frightened monk enticed her. Were they all so skittish and unskilled? Do I really want to take you out? You are so entertaining. She sharply exhaled, concentrating chi as the final needle traveled through the night and tagged his pulsing jugular. White Widow. A slow acting poison meant to leave its victim in a sleeping state for several hours, all dependent on individual metabolism. She adjusted her utility belt, sheathing the blowgun in an interior pocket over her breast and leaped into the air, cloaked by night. She floated tree top to tree top, ceased her movements as another chi source appeared behind her eyelids. Was it too dangerous to go home? Chao briskly fidgeted, an arrowhead grazing a plaited ringlet and freeing it from its confines. Yes.

ƒeral · Jun 25, 2022

Where?

Never one to ascribe anything to the supernatural, Zhaoyang shared in neither Wang Li’s pallid trepidation nor his ostentatious overreaction. The second that vase tipped, she had drawn - her left arm braced as steely as the unmovable mountain, and her right curled. Flexed fingertips subdued explosive power, pinning the same against well-worn jade. An arrow, eagle-fletched, menanced the night with deadly intent, and yet, there was not a single target in sight. The night would prove her enemy. The leaves rustled alongside a playful zephyr, masking sounds; the moon imitated coyness behind sleeve-like clouds, reducing visibility. She stood in absolute stillness, breath clenched, concentrating, bow cocked with domineering intent. Trained, even in the discord of carnage, to fixate upon only her target; Zhaoyang paid no heed to Wang Li’s babbling, ears and eyes peeled only for another disturbance in the air.

There!

A small projectile, impossible to make out, but judging from the trajectory, coming from the canopy of trees. Tsk. Amidst the swaying shadows, it was impossible to pick out a figure from a branch, but an archer was the epitome of patience and–

Thwump–

The loosed arrow split through the chilled night air, hissing as the fletching scraped past metal. But, at Chao’s distance, she would hear nothing from the firing, only the whistle of air at death’s approach. Fast. Tracking the blur with all the rapacious engrossment of a dire wolf sprinting after its prey, Zhaoyang crashed through the unlucky partition, breaking past paper and latticework wooden frame alike. Again! Another arrow loosed, even as she drove her soles forcefully into the ground, spiraling up to chase the retreating fugitive. Wang Li dropped like a sack of squished cabbages in the courtyard’s center, but, dead or alive, his well-being elicited not even one iota of fucks given by Zhaoyang.

“Think you can run, cursed spirit?” She called out in mockery, kicking off against tree to tree. In comparison, her technique in qinggong proved lacking compared to Chao’s, sending the branches trodden upon fwipping into their counterparts. But noisy or not, she was fast. Gusts lapped at her robes, pulling the fabric taut against her form. Unlike Chao, Zhaoyang was a woman built for war, and despite the sheer heft of that xuantie bow, those merciless emissaries of demise demonstrated in great abundant her proficiency in running and shooting. “Last time I checked, spirits were not afraid of mortal steel.”

But, despite the incredible velocity of her arrows, the most they accomplished was nipping at Chao’s heels. Now that Zhaoyang had lost the element of surprise, it was obvious that whoever she chased would not be so easily pincushioned. In a matter of seconds, she had already pursued her quarry well-past the courtyard. This direction… The west wing was a dead-end. That is, unless Chao intended to scale the bluff whence the waterfall flowed. Judging from the incredible buoyancy of the figure concealed in the night, that unlikely feat might actually be conceivable. Escape? I won’t allow it.

However agile a martial practitioner might be, qinggong was not flight, and there were inherent limitations. However, the overabundance of flora gave the fleeing assailant no shortage of stopping points. Chao remained elusive, zigzagging rather than allow Zhaoyang to predict her path. She assessed her quiver, and, to her irritation, found only three arrows more. Hmph. So be it, it was time to make the last remaining trio count. If I cannot pierce the winged vermin, then–

Even as Chao descended towards her next perch, Zhaoyang stilled upon her current roost, dropped to a knee and braced. “Haaah…” She exhaled, dispelling the fatigue-laden breath. The Oppressor curved like the crescent moon, perpendicular to the branch. The reflective bowstring glinted in forewarning, and this time, she notched all three remaining arrows. A full draw, reeling back until the twine would yield no further. Her arm burned and her chi flared so sharply that, to those intuitively attuned with the metaphysical, that solar vitality might even be visible in snapping tendrils of red and gold. The sun took aim, and–

Twang–

It was not Chao that Zhaoyang targeted this time. The aged yulan mongolia, nearly 40ft in height, had just begun sprouting its first buds in anticipation of spring. And yet, those flowers would never bloom again, not when those chi-shrouded missiles embedded tri-points into its trunk. For a second, just a singular second, it seemed as though Zhaoyang had simply missed. The arrows burrowed mid-shaft into aged bark, traversing no further.

But ah, what was the counterpoint to the idiom again? 锐不可挡 - sharpness that cannot be stopped.

With a clamorous boom rivaling the peal of thunder, the tree exploded. Not severed. Not pierced. Exploded like someone had set off a room full of fireworks from within its trunk. And, before her quarry might even have a chance to shake off the daze of being assaulted by shattering wood and branches, Zhaoyang was already upon her. Bladed bow. Emphasis on the bladed.

prettysoft · Jun 29, 2022

That chi. Shen Zhaoyang. When she closed her eyes for that brief meditative-like state, for all of three seconds it was as if the sun rose during the night to obliterate her with its scorching wrath. Solar flares reserved just for her, and if she didn’t make haste Zhaoyang’s scathing temper and sense of justice would be upon her soon. To preserve and endure, or race to the safety that the waterfalls offered in her time of need? Chao marked the next spot; past the peach grove, zen garden, and over immature trees. The sweeping length of her willowy sleeves fanned out behind her, rippling soundlessly in the gusts; the branches undisturbed as wooden clogs rebounded onto one flimsy branch, and another. Catch me if you will, but I won't make it easy for you this time. Her smile imprinted on the mask loosely covering her mouth; mischief and amusement twinkling in her lilac irises. Ambitious! She spared an aloof glance to the hound dog hot on her scent, endeared by the heckling, aroused by the idea of imminent doom.

The stretching, warming up, and appraising before meeting face to face thrilled her to the bone. She once feared death at the hands of the Shen family, never craving to be so close to it, until now. Chao would offer anything on land, in the heavens or the seas to see hate etched on Zhaoyang’s handsome face. To see her twist and sputter the same way she begged for mercy, without anyone to help her. The antidote to the poison that coursed through her veins was surely this harrowing chase that Zhaoyang struggled to win. Every arrow missed Chao's zig-zagging figure; the archer targeting the shadow of where Chao once lingered. Heh. Always two steps ahead, leading with her back to the race. Tired, are you? Zhaoyang’s technique and speed impressed Chao, but the arrows in that quiver were too slow for her 月步( moon step), a secret qinggong allowing the practitioner to float over long distances; to stand on a lake’s surface without sinking into the depths below. The moonlight empowered such movements, adding wind onto the heels of a girl rivaling the speed of sound on her own. The density of her bones nor the weight of her robes hindered her in chase. She fixated on the budding magnolia tree, soaring through the nightfall and somersaulting mid-air, toes pointed and arms crossed over chest. Chao spiraled once, and on the second count an eruption of deadly crimson and royal gold fanned out like a tigers roar. The vague silhouette in the shadows and the glint in the dark ensnared her in its trap; the supporting branch combusting at her feet. Chao repressed a groan as burning splinters assaulted her legs and singed her robe. Her silken thighs handled the battering, but blood trickled from those wounds. The notably long sleeves on her mini-hanfu absorbed the blow when she raised her forearms to protect her face, scuff marks on her cheekbones. She skidded frontside onto the grass, lacerated, but not without a heartbeat or fighting spirit. Bruised, but all the bones in her delicate frame intact. The butterfly on her breast appeared under the light of the moon, and she glanced suspiciously at it, before tilting her chin to gaze up at her nemesis. The jade ring protruding over the tense knuckles, the steel blade pointed at the tip of her nose, all of that spoke to her love of a good fight.

Gong--

Chao’s back arched into a crescent and she extended her legs over her posterior; striking like the tail on a manticore lashing out. Unfurling like a tiger lily, the long sleeves imbued with chi mysteriously snapped through the air, encircling Zhaoyang’s wrists and blade. Constricting blood flow to her hands, and yanking her arms parallel to her sides. Crucified, splayed out like a martyr or a savior - Chao's eyebrows arched in agreement of the abuse. The enchanted silk severed the blade from a white-knuckled grip, hurling it into the bushes. Hah! Chao crouched low to the terrain, legs apart and arms extended like the thorns on a rose. Her gentle palm technique - created by none other than herself served to deflect and redirect blunt moves like punches and kicks, but the commandant would not be given the chance to pounce. Try me. She communicated with a smug expression that reached the corner of her eyes. Fool! Chao sprang up from the grass, sleeves lifeless as her digits jabbed at the commandant's arm, between the shoulder and pectorals. If she wanted to kill her, she could attempt to do so, but disarming her sufficed for now.

"Let's see what you are made of, Zhaoyang of the Shen family!" Chao challenged, and called out, voice masked by a drastic shift in octave imitating the sound of an elderly man.

ƒeral · Jun 30, 2022

Sleeves.

This had to be a joke. Only Zhaoyang wasn’t laughing, because she just got assaulted by said sleeves. Logically, it was not an inconceivable concept - if a branch could function as a sword, then why couldn’t sleeves be weaponized? But, emotionally, it was a bitter pill for a woman who prided herself on every element of warfare to swallow. Because sleeves. Sleeves were soft, frivolous, embodying everything wrong with the endless droning of bureaucrats and something to be tightly wrapped around the forearms where combat was concerned.

Well, in a way, they were tightly wrapped around her forearms.

And perhaps it were because of that surprise - sleeves, she just couldn’t get over that, because sleeves - but Zhaoyang was momentarily stunned as that heavy xuantie bow was ripped from her grasp, clanging quietly against dirt and underbrush. She flexed intuitively, tugging against the silk, and finding it far more durable than silk had any right to be. Who is this woman? It was a question that had to be asked, because her masked assailant was astonishingly fast. Giving new meaning to ‘float like a butterfly, sting like a wasp’, the unexpectedly capable combatant managed to both disarm and land a blow on Zhaoyang. What are you hiding? The narrowed jades queried even as she spiraled back a meter or two to gather her composure. The technique was not one she recognized whatsoever, but what was with that god awful impression?

It was extremely exaggerated. Exaggerated and unfitting, which made it suspicious. Because Zhaoyang had eyes, and, unsurprisingly, had no trouble discerning the sex of her assailant. Owing, in no small part, to that outfit. Guess what, appending ‘hanfu’ after ‘mini’ did not in fact make something a hanfu. Just like calling a wolf a dog did not in fact make it a dog. That said though, Chao was without a doubt the best dressed - or worst, depending on who you asked - combatant. Definitely the worst, if you asked Zhaoyang, because anything that showed off that much skin had no place on the battlefield. She might have even scoffed, if the immodestly dressed assassin hadn’t gotten the drop on her first.

“Hiding behind a mask?” She snapped back, forcing chi through her very sore shoulder, ramming straight past those flimsy blockages. Hand to hand was not her preference, largely because she hated the notion of touching people. But a disinclination was not to be mistaken for ineptitude, because unarming Zhaoyang was an impossibility when she was the weapon. “Cowardice, too misshapen to be shown, or both?” The skirt and tattoo suggested vanity, and so it was that she pinpointed. Her blurring silhouette closely tailed the cutting words, because Chao was certainly not the only one who was fast.

Whereas Chao favored deflection, everything about Zhaoyang was momentum. Shifting her weight to one leg, she propelled both into the ground and leapt up, pivoting. The torque of her core empowered her right leg, and that perfect flying spinning hook kick aimed eye level, like she intended to further maim the concealed face she insulted. Missing - being dodged, rather - did not surprise her, and as soon as she landed the drop, she was already hopping back and sliding forward again, striking with her back fist this time around.

Chao embodied the multifacetedness of the moon in the variance of her techniques and her unpredictability. Sleeves, arms, palms, everything worked in tandem to deter the dire wolf loyal to the hunt. To no avail. Much like how the sun would always chase the moon out of the sky, Zhaoyang was unrelenting. Black shadowed grape, threatening to swallow it whole at every turn. Her chi flared sharper, brighter, ramping with the coursing adrenaline and the rush of a good fight. Rather than growing frustrated at being parried time and again, Zhaoyang only appeared more excited. There was no time for words, not even to banter, not under the flurry of blows she delivered. Fists, legs, shins, elbows - everything and anything barraging with deadly intent. Forceful. Enough to numb and bruise if Chao ever intercepted even a single strike without properly redirecting the force. The Shen style favored power, and Zhaoyang embodied that fact with gusto.

What was Shen Zhaoyang made of? 100% concentrated violence, as it turned out.

prettysoft · Jul 2, 2022

Misshapen? Chao’s confidence exceeded the bounds of any polite, well-to-do lady. Knock the moon down to the land mortal’s levels? Never. The snow may fall, masking the beauty of life and autumnal color, but that added to the story that it told. A cloth on her face did not make her any less beautiful, in that a dog with a bow was still a dog. Hah! Zhaoyang calling her misshapen did not make it so. She wouldn’t persuade her that she was ugly, or whatever untrue claims she threw her way. Her gaze widened still, breath catching in her throat as if an arrow penetrating her rib cage, disrupting her stability, and breaking her concentration. Chao glared ninja stars at Zhaoyang, vellus hairs standing on end, not too unlike a dog herself. The grass barely moved as she stepped back with her left, then her right foot to dodge boney elbows. Fights like this were a rarity, one to remember for years to come. If she blinked - if she stumbled, just one of those punches packed enough power to break her bones into a million pieces. The wind cowered at Zhaoyang’s blows; knuckles grazed Chao’s robe. Palms flat, fingers contoured to guide the backhanded fists to anywhere that wasn’t her body. Like the river's current, she moved in one direction, but the water flowed wherever Zhaoyang willed her deadly intent.

Doesn’t she give up? Chao’s groin flattened onto the grass in a last minute attempt to escape a punch; one leg pointed at her frontside, the other coiling as she curled into a ball. Rolled several feet over the grass, and backflipped onto a boulder. Fire and water, or sun and moon, the exposure to one another for long periods of time spelled trouble. Where Zhaoyang’s legs were coming in hot to incinerate all it deemed unworthy, Chao cooled the blazing path with her adept digits; dainty wrists rotating clockwise to deflect punches intended to go through her flesh. To deflect and redirect would tire Zhaoyang eventually, right? A foot clashed with her hip, and Chao twirled backwards, grasping the momentum to flee. She kneed upwards, catapulting herself over Zhaoyang’s head; fingers outstretched as wooden soles attached to the base of a magnolia tree. An ominous glint presented to her from the underbrush and dirt, and Chao rebounded off the trunk, evading Zhaoyang's claws. Her sleeves springing to life, they flitted and fluttered, adopting the personality of its chi owner. Her ethereal leap resembled flight, and the magical sleeves bordered on the supernatural in the moonlight. Like a scroll spilling out from its spool, the long wings of her mini-hanfu wrapped the hilt like a gift. A gift for Chao to add to her collection of trinkets and toys.

“Oh ho!” Chao cackled briskly, a cosmic alignment taking place as the moon served as her backdrop. She jerked the bladed bow up to hang at her waist, and her shoes connected with branches, bending the limbs toward the ground. Her skirt danced in the crisp wind, leaves rustling, and her heart rapidly beating in her ears as she floated tree to tree, eager to shake the lady commandant.

“Zhaoyang!” Chao hated Zhaoyang, but holding her prized bow strangely eased the hate seedling in her heart. She pondered happily, if this is the one thing Zhaoyang cherishes, what will she do without it to rely on? “The time we see each other next, is one you won't forget.” She reassured, the smile on her lips elevating the pitch of her crystal clear voice. The weight of such a famous sword hindered her speed and moon step, and Zhaoyang’s unique chi protected the blade - fighting with Chao’s chi and creating a rift between them. The enchanted silk drooped, like a bird with broken wings trying to fly for the second or third time. She was still faster than Zhaoyang, and the Commandant’s speed should be taken seriously in every sense of the word. The only person equal to Chao in speed also trained her to be the lightning bolt that she is today, but the Commandant fought to be a problematic close second. From the trees, Chao launched clear over the lake and onto the moss covered wall. Her heartbeat drowned out the gushing water as she scaled up the mouth of the waterfall, and the adrenaline numbed the aches and pains. The impact surely left bruises and scrapes on her skin, and her muscles burned. As Chao gathered a handful of grass and dirt, she hoisted herself up and rubbed her cheek onto the ground. Safe. Five minutes. Those five minutes afforded her enough time to catch her breath, and then return to the Shen residence before Zhaoyang could find out she ever left.

She is suspicious of Chao now. An inkling, or call it intuition, but Chao knew. She all but flew back to the Shen estates, somewhat unscathed, completely unseen.

ƒeral · Jul 4, 2022

A taunt was just that. The only persuasion Zhaoyang was keen on performing didn't involve words. She missed the cutting edge of her bladed bow, with the way fingers and palms touched her wrists and forearms insolently. This duel was akin to boxing with her own shadows; however much she accelerated, she was always just one millimeter short from gainful impact. She could pierce a leaf dead center from fifty paces away, but never had she encountered a leaf that could perfectly contour itself to the incoming squall. Unanchored, like a petal from a purple evening primrose, blooming at night only to be sent adrift in the wind. The wind blew harder, but the flower refused to be torn asunder.

Annoying, but not problematic. Where agility matched velocity, and technique squared off against power, endurance shall cast the deciding vote. Zhaoyang could, and have, hailed arrows from sunrise to sunset, over the entire course of a siege. She could dance to this lethal tempo for as long as it took Wang Li to rise, transcending the limitations of flesh with her indominable chi. Whether she landed a direct blow or not didn’t matter; she had that masked assailant on the backfoot. Time and fatigue would force an error. One solid hit, and she would have this evasive blackguard flat on the ground.

There! The back of her boots collided against hips, the glancing blow alone enough to bruise. Already she was pivoting, spiraling into the second part of that horizontal spinning kick. Missing, narrowly, and she rebalanced herself to lunge. “You–” What she didn’t expect, and perhaps should have, was for the coward to flee in reverse. Objectively speaking, Zhaoyang did not want for speed. However, hers was a style meant for bloodshed and subjugation, not to vamoose from the unfinished fight, tailfeather tucked between legs like a chicken taking flight.

“You best pray that you never see me again, coward!” The insult fell flat even as she gave chase. Terrible enough that she risked losing her quarry, the scoundrel added insult to injury and lifted her prized bow. She pushed hard enough that her chi streaked the air and her lungs burned from exertion, but it was like racing against a fleeting thought. The harder she tried to grasp it, the further it eluded her. The distance Chao traversed with a single step defied all logic and reason. Zhaoyang darted across the surface of the lake, unfrozen on account of the vehemently gushing water. Hot on the trail of that murderer turned thief bounding up the shimmering white curtain. If she were any other, she might have marveled at the absurdity of Chao scaling vertically, as though the water was rope and she was the envy of mountain goats.

Zhaoyang tried her hands at it, seeking purchase before she propelled herself up, not so much climbing as she was bodily throwing herself up the incline. And again, grunting from the force of the water pummeling her shoulders, blinded and deafened by nature’s bellow. Her fingers gouged into the ancient stone from how hard she gripped, white-knuckled in her attempt to establish a foothold where there was none. Thrice more she managed to catapult herself aloft, having long lost sight of her quarry, but went at it out of stubbornness alone. Stubborn or not, her undertaking was doomed before she even began. Nails scrabbled against a solid and slippery surface, attempting to find something, anything, to bear her weight. But sheer determination could not conjure a handhold from nothing, and so, slipping, she plummeted back down into the icy cold water. Even being soaked to the bone could not chill the boiling point of her anger, the injury to her pride seething like the molten core of a volcano on the verge of erupting. Emerging, looking quite a bit worse for wear yet more furious still, she roared into the night. Chi carried her words over even the thrashing cascade. “Mark my words, cur, I will hunt you down across every corner of the earth. I swear it!”

Dozing off wasn't happening.

Zhaoyang played and replayed that fight over and over again in her mind, sleep forestalled by irritation and an endless stream of conjectures. The veiled moon refused her a good look at her assailant, but that unmistakably feminine silhouette narrowed her options. Perhaps it were simple coincidence, but first Wu, and now Wang Li, all these incidents were too suspiciously timed with Chao’s arrival for her not to be skeptical. I know I struck her on the hips. She recollected. And the bursting bark and branches may well have left scratches as well. There was also a marking of some sort, silver, above the heart. Plenty of highly incriminating details. Whether it were Chao or not, Zhaoyang intended to find out.

An hour after their scuffle, Zhaoyang arrived unannounced in the east wing. Her waterlogged outfit was swapped for robes of a deep midnight blue, minimally embroidered and belted tight at the waist. Severe, like her ever present wintry disposition. Her hair was no longer dripping wet, but those obsidian locks retained enough moisture to hint at her unpremeditated ‘swim’. None of the servant rooms had locks, and so, she simply pushed her way inside. Her eyes already well-adjusted to the dark surveyed the room. It was well past midnight, and yet, the room's sole inhabitant remained awake. That fact aggrandized Zhaoyang's suspicions, but she kept that to herself. No, it would not play to her advantage to bare her cards so soon. If she were mistaken, an imperial spy did not need to know about this newly arisen threat. And so, subtlety. "You are up late." A question that wasn't a question, but it was nevertheless a statement that required addressing. She crossed the threshold of the door, closing it behind herself. It was the first time she inspected this particular room after ordering that it be brought up to par, and she noted with some level of satisfaction that it appeared well-used, at least. The enemy's spies who have come to spy on us must be sought out, tempted with bribes, led away and comfortably housed. Thus they will become converted spies and available for our service. Art of War, Chapter 13. Because that was why she gave that command, obviously. She didn't wait for an invitation before pulling an unused cushion for herself, sitting down with her back to the door and cutting off Chao's only viable escape route. Her posture made it clear that she wasn't leaving any time soon. "A special occasion? Or are you always up in the middle of the night?"

prettysoft · Jul 7, 2022

The elusive Chao burst into her bedroom, half-expecting to be attacked and what little she owned ransacked. To have Zhaoyang’s blade pointed at her face was preferable to the silence, that flaring chi stuck to her like a sticky rice ball. Her chi at the core, and Zhaoyang’s sun meshing with her cool lavender. If she closed her eyes, then she envisioned the swirling energies as if they were shaping and twisting in the center. A curtain billowing over the window, a hoot and crickets chirping in the gardens should have calmed her uneasiness, but she desired nothing more than to see Zhaoyang’s pitiful expression. She fondly recalled the location of the bladed bow, a tall tree in a centuries-old Banyan forest, where the silver grass circles a heart-shaped koi pond. A perfect sanctuary for Zhaoyang’s bow, the highest platform on Lóng mountain, a dangerous trek for even master climbers - a talent Zhaoyang lacked in.

Chao’s caboose landed on a cushion, fatigue settling into her body, bones registering the impact of the fists and feet; elbows and shins. She curled onto her side, vulnerable and weak for all of nine seconds. The glamorous life of a courtesan. She humored herself, fingertips peeling the hanfu off of her skin, analyzing fresh bruises on her wrists, lacerations on her thighs. Not all of those wounds could be attributed to Zhaoyang’s arrows, but those were cleaned and soaked in salves just the same. She slipped away to wash, a brief ordeal in the gardens that brought her up to par.

The exposed skin she proudly flaunted in the moonlight currently hid beneath a layer of sheer blue. Dirt and dust wiped clean to reveal her clear complexion, and a high mandarin collar embroidered in moons and stars buttoned up a slender neck. The cold water she used to wash with, left her nipples budding and imprinted on the soft blue. The color on her thighs when she walked across the room, was a brief window to the creamy canvas. Chao pushed her hair away and over her shoulder, sat down in the middle of her room. When Zhaoyang entered, she must have seen that Chao was innocently lighting an incense, illuminating the friendly smile she wore for the intruder's arrival.

“Sleep escapes me on nights when the moon looks like this.” Chao whispered with the eloquence of a poet, her wispy tone alluding sleep deprivation, and exhaustion. “I never cared for gazing up at the sun, but the moon’s beauty is worth staying awake for.” She rose slowly, sweeping the length of her gown across the floor as she strode over to Zhaoyang’s side. “Care to explain?” There was that tone Chao used, the authoritative regal air that was not to be used on her liege. ”Why are you in my room instead of your own?” She tucked the length of her hanfu, concealed her knees as they folded comfortably underneath her rear. Chao joined Zhaoyang on the spacious cushion. “Master Wang Li warned that we should stay in our rooms for the night, no?”

ƒeral · Jul 10, 2022

That imprudent tone narrowed foreboding jades. Zhaoyang clenched her jaw, but did not snap this time around. Her lingering outrage roared for outlet, and it would be easy - so easy - to bolt up and backhand the haughty spy for her insolence. Could easily tear that flimsy excuse of a nightgown, sheer enough that she saw far more than she intended to see. One clean rip down the middle, and Zhaoyang would have her answer just like that. And if she were wrong, well, it was well within her right to discipline a servant. Could have, would have, had she not found that thought objectionable.

Not out of mercy, never that, but in keeping with honor’s dictations. What sagacious scroll did not warn of the benevolence of women, of misplaced lenity that jeopardized the greater good. Having been born as the commonly regarded ‘gentler sex’, it behooved her in particular to avoid any such adjectives. Her enemies would only ever know her as the mortal embodiment of asura, unblinking, unerring, unrelenting. Only a fool who wished for his head to be severed from his body would question Zhaoyang’s ruthlessness on the battleground. And yet, it was not in her nature to be brutal, not without cause. She was strict to the servants, but never biased, did not throw her weight around just because.

Couldn’t say that she had ever met an attendant quite so irritating, however.

But she was above this petty scrabble. Austere military discipline governed every aspect of her life, and she was here with purpose. She would have her answer, and she would do so without throwing Chao into the floorboard. Because the well-respected general used his words and stratagems to garner respect, and did not terrify his retainers out of intemperance.

Speaking of stratagems, there were certainly other methods of disrobing a courtesan that did not involve violence. Truthfully, the mere notion of what she was currently entertaining made her brows want to lock up. Any such dalliances were not only a waste of time and energy, but wrong. Zhaoyang did not consider herself traditional, and yet the proof was written in cursive upon xuan paper. But her discomfort with the idea never made it to her countenance, much as she would never dismiss a valid strategy for her personal misgivings. Besides, it wasn’t as though she had to - just the thought alone nearly made her cringe - complete the act. After all, were clothes not supposed to come off before - wince - copulation? A swift inspection followed by either excusing herself or apprehending the deceiver, that was all.

And so, steeling her resolve, Zhaoyang answered Chao’s inquiry with sarcasm capable of slicing bamboo. “A senseless question, why would anyone visit a courtesan at night?” She did not grin the way Kaixuan was fond of, nor did she move to grip Chao’s wrist, but the message was hard to miss. “I don’t want to hear Wang Li’s name again, or any other.” Her tone was dictatorial, lacking in the carnality expected of such an assertion. “Spy or not, you were given to the Shens, to me, to serve.” Unlike the thawing leafage outside, her eyes were the everwinter capable of frostbite with just a glare. And right now, they warned of somber consequences if Chao failed to heed her earlier demand regarding names.

“Strip.”

prettysoft · Jul 18, 2022

“May my feminine charms appeal to your exquisite tastes.”

The moonlight hid behind the clouds and cast a shadow in the room, for all of three seconds cloaking the two in darkness. An insolent smirk playing upon her nude lips, and Chao charming the vellus hairs on the Commandant’s nape with delicate sighs. As she moved back into the light, she offered an apologetic bow to convey how truly sorry she felt about uttering Wang Li’s name. Raising her gaze to Zhaoyang, Chao stole a glance, quickly noticing not a scuff on the commandant's rice water skin. Like a servant scorned by its master, Chao feigned her fear by tucking her chin close to her shoulder. An unsavory predicament, and she hadn’t even left a scratch on Zhaoyang in their fight. Now, she has to shed her hanfu and allow Zhaoyang to inspect her? And if she passed the inspection, would they truly lay together? Chao’s irises glimmered at the idea, repulsed by the visual, but not completely turned off either. Hm. Twelve frog-eyed buttons sewn left breast up to the high-collar stood in the path to exposing her secrets to Zhaoyang. To expose the lies and deceit of the Shen family, but that was just what this rite was for. If not to reveal murderers and spirits, at least Zhaoyang could see what sort of monsters she shared blood with.

Chao disguised her irritability with an amicable nod, because Zhaoyang's sarcasm revealed to Chao that she was moody. Moody, but that happened to be better than violent on any day. Play along, but who says you have to be good at the game? She batted her long lashes, swirled and looped the tip of her index fingernail on the single layer of silk flowing over the commandant's hardened arm. Why not be better than good? There was no question about it, Zhaoyang wanted to see her naked, to see if she sustained any injuries that could be compared to the murderer. Oh! How dare she do that! The icy edge to her harsh voice, the foreboding consequences if she disobeyed the request; Chao couldn't admit that she liked those standards a lot. Zhaoyang's wintry chill nudged her in a way that even if her life weren't hanging on the line, most certainly enticed her stubborn nature.

“Save your pity, Commandant. If you have any left, that is…” Her slender digits wavered in front of the first button, stumbled over the loop as if it was her first time undressing in front of another woman. Her apparel left little to the imagination as it was, the see-through negligee was comparable to spider’s web, fragile enough to be shredded by a snag in the nail. By the time Chao reached the fifth button, milky hues marred by deep mulberry fingerprints and a faded ligature mark where her collar once sat, pronounced themselves on her complexion. And if there wasn’t ever a neckline there, a ribbon, or some frilly thing wide enough to conceal her bruises.

When all the buttons were freed from their enclosure, Chao took her arms from their sleeves, leaving drapes lifeless and hanging at her sides. If she were to remove her nightgown then that would immediately implicate her as the one who attacked Master Wang Li. As proud as she was for her handiwork in that espionage mission, the wolf would not be baring its teeth tonight. Not at her, not when she was so battered and torn. Not when her lonely bed needed warming, and she had done nothing wrong to earn Zhaoyang's suspicion.

“I see the way you look at me, but your esteemed brother…” A minute shrug caused the translucent fabric to flutter off her dainty shoulder, down to the demarcation line where her waist dipped into her hip. The scratches on her legs and feet, the blackened bruise spreading abdomen to hip bone were safe from view. “He is culpable for acts he has committed. Acts he has committed against me.” Chao pouted dramatically, pulling her hanfu back up to her shoulders. She searched for tears, but there were none to drive her pain home. “Tell me, am I really the property of the Shen family, or do I belong to Commandant Kaixuan alone?”

ƒeral · Jul 24, 2022

Zhaoyang wasn’t sure what to think about Chao’s abrupt changes in attitude. The woman was a chameleon - one moment, presumptuous enough to move the archer to ire, and the next, agreeable and acquiescent. Only, a chameleon changed its pigments in order to evade the purview of its predators, which she supposed that Chao had attempted as well. The spy had worn soft and demure convincingly, but now that the cat was out of the bag, she was as mercurial as summer rain. What’s her game? A natural skeptic, not to mention a trained interrogator, Zhaoyang has yet to meet a puzzle she could not solve, a person she could not crack. There must exist a reason why the imperial spy oscillated between goading her and hanging onto every word, but the why eluded her.

Would continue to elude her, because she very much lost her ability to focus upon that strand of thought when hesitant fingers began to pluck open buttons. Zhaoyang tensed, face a carefully neutral mask, but the bob of her throat was telling. It was…confusing. Partial nudity was nothing unusual - soldiers frequently trained toplessly, glistening with sweat beneath the grueling sun. Admittedly, those particular soldiers in question were all male, but Zhaoyang was the last person to put any stock into gender. Besides, it wasn’t like it was anything she hadn’t seen before. Logically absurd, and yet she did not fail to notice the uptick in her own heart rate and the way the air suddenly seemed thicker, making it that much harder to breathe.

Her confusion deepened at the array of marks revealed. None of those corresponded to anything she could recall from the fight, and, notably, there wasn’t even a hint of a blotch where the silhouette of a butterfly once soared mid-flight. But that in and of itself was not determinative; a tattoo could be covered with powder, or even intentionally forged to throw her off. There were easier injuries to check for. So why was it then that her gaze lingered heavily on every inch of newly exposed skin, on those twin snowy peaks worthy of ribald poetry. Whereas the same display would have already inspired Kaixuan to action, the thoughts it spurred in Zhaoyang mostly just perplexed her. Chao was talking, and those blatant accusations required addressing. But…

Zhaoyang’s face felt hot, not just her face either. The night was cool, the frosty breeze flowing in from the window should have inspired layers, but her robes suddenly felt suffocating. She did not expect to be affected whatsoever, and that lack of foresight cost her dearly. The sharp clench of her abs warned of more significant concerns than a blush that may or may not be decorating her high cheekbones. She bolted up; an ascent rapid enough to warrant alarm. But, sudden or not, she was already turning away, hair practically whipping the air from the abruptness of it all.

“Forget it,” she threw out over her shoulder, camouflaging embarrassment with practiced acerbity. “I would have expected you to be capable of more tact than uttering my brother’s name on a night like this, but clearly I was mistaken.” Which was to say, mood completely ruined - a suitable lie given what she led with. Convincing or not, it was the best she could manage to cover her hasty retreat, too shell shocked over the whole episode to follow through fully with the incog investigation. Whether Chao responded or not, Zhaoyang was already ~~fleeing~~ exiting.

Nothing was said about Chao’s remarks upon Kaixuan. Truthfully, that bothered her. Those bruises called to mind a particular memory nearly forgotten, when a sobbing maid had lobbied similar accusations. Father had stepped in and concluded that nothing was amiss, and she had no cause or reason to dig further past that. But proof stared her in the face now, and the anger it inspired mixed wretchedly with the other emotions Chao elicited. Either way, this was family business, and Zhaoyang had no intention of sharing her contemplations.

『 The next day 』

Expectedly, Wang Li practically scampering with his tail between his legs did the opposite of pacifying the estate. The word ‘curse’ was passed around beneath bated breaths, and even the most stout manservant looked anxious. Adding fuel to the kindling was the exploded tree in the west wing, the ruined landscape blanching the faces of several unlucky fellows. And if that were not enough, the twin pillars supporting Shen Wencheng’s might - the distinguished sibling pair - argued for what seemed like the first time in a near decade. Their disagreement was not loud, clipped tones kept muted enough to avoid being overheard. But at one point, someone or another struck an end table forcefully enough to split the unlucky furniture into halves. The who or why remained unascertainable, but none were foolhardy enough to venture anywhere near Commandant Zhaoyang’s path when she stormed out of the east wing. Both siblings held their tongues about the incident, but speculations ran wild.

As for the woman at the center of it all, she would not be spared some inconvenience of her own. One of Zhaoyang’s shadows now stood watch over Chao’s quarters each and every night. Never the same woman or man twice in a row, alternating in no discernable patterns. Jailer or guard dog? Who’s to say. Only time would tell if normalcy might resume. But first, the Spring Equinox was upon them. As leaves greened and flowers budded, nature stirred from its long slumber. The rivers and ponds unfroze, and with that, the fishes swimming beneath once again surfaced with joyous splashes. Hedgehogs, woodchucks, and chipmunks scurried about amidst the flowering bushes, but they were not the only animals roused by springtide.

No, it was time for the annual Bear Hunt.

prettysoft · Jul 26, 2022

The heavy subject matter failed to bring forth tears, to fracture her porcelain mask with ugly crying and pleas for a savior to rescue her from Kaixuan's suffocating grip. Chao rectified that being bound to Kaixuan must be her karma - for all the necks squeezed with her sleeves, for all the pretty flames she snuffed out with painted silk. A karmic justice that aimed to satisfy the spirits of those whose rage lingered on in the after life. The bitter poison in her veins may likely kill her, if not a death by the hands of the first ranked commandant. Those foreboding jades, full of resentment whenever they glared at Chao now maintained a riveting shame, less hate than she was accustomed to seeing from Zhaoyang. Chao crossed her hand over her perky bosom, the other over her parted lips."Wait." Her lush pout turned upside down, into a frown as her lilac irises searched the sheepish expression on the commandant's once impenetrable facade. Hardly any acknowledgement of the accusations against Kaixuan, but Zhaoyang was swift to rise, retreating to the entryway in blustery strides.

Her dramaturgy warded Zhaoyang off her trail for the time being, and Chao blew out the candles and tucked away for the night. As her heavy lids shut, the sunset orange chi flickered like the commandant was standing right in front of her, embracing her in warmth. Acutely aware of their chi synergy, and the distinct way Zhaoyang appraised her silhouette, Chao unsurprisingly wanted to see Zhaoyang's blushing face again. The way Zhaoyang looked at her, was more than just an investigative peek for injuries, and Chao was taking that to the grave with her. Earning the favor of Zhaoyang seemed a laughable venture. At first, Chao gravitated toward the red-streaked direwolf; her outstanding cheekbones and impeccable style in comparison to the other captains and generals in attendance that night captured her attention. However, the snapping maws of she and her brother deterred Chao from ever willingly entering the wolf's den. An opportunity presented itself - Zhaoyang entered her quarters under false pretenses, not to undress, but to implicate her for crimes that she committed in the courtyard, in the gardens, and a slew of other charges that would have her beheaded on the spot. She swore allegiance to the Qin, and would die for it, but the run-in with Zhaoyang left her addled. More layers existed underneath the lady commandant's cut-throat exterior, and Chao knew that if she wanted to try her hand at peeling the onion back, that her acquiescence was imperative to getting closer to Zhaoyang. If the commandant claimed that Chao lacked tact, then the perfectly buttoned and straight-laced commandant should not deny that she purposely seduced Chao to gain the upper hand.

『 The next night 』

Chao went skyward, where the silver grass met the koi pond. The banyan forest defrosted on the warmest day of the year thus far and mother nature breathed new life into the frosted hedges and clear pond's edge. Chao advanced on the crystalline surface with the highly sought after bladed bow looped by its bowstring in between her breasts. Rather than leave the bow in the wild, a brighter, alternative idea came to the courtesan-spy when she overheard servants in the garden discussing curses and the bear hunt. She sprinkled dried bread crumbs on the water, rippling and splashing disturbing the serenity of the forest but adding to her happiness that spring welcomed. Chao leaped over the waterfall's edge, landing on her slippered feet, splashes misting her flowing purple robes and mask. The last time she was on Lóng mountain, Zhaoyang sprinted after her, yelling obscenities and cursing her with her hate-fueled gaze.

"You'll have your special bow back in no time, Commandant." Chao stood on pointed toes on top of a tree, overlooking a cave hidden beneath a decrepit shrine. It doubled as an animal's den, which was perfect for stowing things away. "But firstly, a test of wits." She dropped from her perch, a makeshift torch brought to light as she ventured deep into the cave, winding dark tunnels, and an apex predator's claw marks on the slate walls. A skeleton dressed in peasant's robes revealed itself as she shone the torchlight on a corner. She manipulated the bones in such a way that it was holding the bow, gripping it in its ivory fingers. This location bordered the area where the annual bear hunt was to take place in a few days time, and this is where the bow would stay. Chao tore the dusty, flimsy fabric and wrote in ink.

"Oppression is humbled by compassion and gratitude. Below the prayer shrine, if you arrive in time - your bow will be in tact." She dropped the note in the west wing garden, astonished that not a single soul lingered there. Were they all so wary of Wang Li's mumblings? Chao shook her head, though thankful that she could continue her mission unseen.

When Chao returned to her room, she found a darkly suited figure hidden in the shadows beside her window. Guarding me? Is that what they are doing? Well, they unfortunately witnessed her returning in the middle of the night, and would probably report back to their liege their findings. Chao concocted a story to tell Zhaoyang, that she was feeling ill and required fresh air on this night. That's what she planned to tell Zhaoyang, if questioned about it. On second thought, suggestive glances and minor flirting did the trick just fine. She ruffled the commandant's mane on more than one occasion, but the direction the wind blew had yet to change course in her direction. She was working on that, but the commandant was too busy brooding over her missing weapon to be affected.

『 The hunt 』

Joined by a flock of wealthy locals hailing from all walks of upper class society, Chao fit right in. Her beauty, if not her noblewoman's uniform, granted her permanent access to events such as these. Adorned in a dandelion yellow robe and a bengal rose hanfu, Chao dismounted her horse, glass beads twinkling when the afternoon rays beamed down on her hibiscus head piece. An ombre qun skirt immaculately embroidered, trailed behind her in the gusts - a child sized pipa at her side, because Kaixuan preferred it when she entertained. He requested Chao accompany them on the hunt, a tempting invitation that she did not refuse. One does not simply say 'no' to a commandant, and she hoped by being their companion, she would in-turn learn useful information during the possible overnight adventure. Famous families with a history of military officials, like the Shen's, were comparable to a lord coming down from its towers to visit their subjects. The Shens were represented by a small party - including both commandants, herself, and a servant to carry their supplies. There were also the well-bred nobles like the Chang's, represented by a father and son duo renowned for their smithing work in the war against the Qin. Various officials that she knew only by name, were all in attendance. The annual bear hunt turned out to be quite the affair.

Lively and bustling melodies floated over the hunting topics, extravagant tents pitched on the grassy plains neighboring dense forest. Flags flapped proudly in the peach-blossom kissed breeze, Wei's red and black standing out against the petals in the wind. A great grizzly effigy expertly carved from dark wood towered at a staggering 11ft, modeled after the bear from the previous year. Chao swung her hips and circled around the statue, bumping right into Kaixuan's arms. Skin prickling, stomach twisting a pinch, Chao consented to an impromptu hug. The green-eyed beast reared its head, both literally and figuratively. A moment of peace to herself, to collect her thoughts, and Kaixuan blindsided her from another direction.

"Chao." Kaixuan cracked a smile, relinquished the courtesan from his grip. "You look like you're in trouble." Which appealed to Kaixuan's tastes even more. Chao spelled trouble, problematic, but a pretty courtesan welcomed the attention from him. He invited her to the annual bear hunt for obvious reasons.

"I am." Chao remarked, indifferent to the posturing of the commandant. She rolled her eyes, rose hued lips pinching in defiance. If she uttered another word, it might be worth it to see Kaixuan's reaction to her snark. She fingered an elaborate, silk cord hanging from her ornate sash, twirling it around her slender digit. Commandant Kaixuan was not the only one with the genius idea to bring along his concubine, but certainly some of these women were the wives of these noblemen?

Kaixuan's hand slapped around Chao's wrist, silk muffling the impact. Zhaoyang could huff, puff, and stand in his way, but he was Kaixuan. When Zhaoyang confronted him that night, accusing him, it only vexed him further. His soul didn't sit the same, couldn't look upon his sister the same way. All of this, over a girl? "I have a proposition for you. Target practice, over there." He suggested, or commanded. He was ambivalent to his perceived tone, only cared that Chao obeyed him from now on. "Look." He nodded in the direction of a clearing set up for archery - nothing suspicious. "Now, come."

"I like it here." Chao pulled her wrist, a look of boredom on her painted lids. She wasn't in the mood to cause a scene, but he was a persistent bastard, which Chao knew to be true from their nights spent together. She scoffed, refusing to struggle. "If you insist." She sashayed along, dipping her head beneath the event tent, fuming red from the tip of her ears to the round of her cheek.

ƒeral · Jul 29, 2022

Thunk-

Zhaoyang enjoyed target practice. Targets didn’t talk, they just ate arrows. Didn’t sway, just stayed perfectly still and ate more arrows. And, most importantly, they definitely didn’t do anything confusing like tracing circles on her bicep, peering up at her through eyelashes, and causing her blood to shimmer in a way similar yet distinctive from the heat of battle. Zhaoyang hated people. Chao was ‘people’. The conclusion to be drawn thereupon was self-evident. Having an anomaly arise after twenty-eight years of obstinate solitude was grating on her nerves like a very rusty saw scraping over bone. Which was to say, she was beyond irate.

Archery always calmed her. Sliding into stance, tucking her hips under the backbone, opening up her shoulders and extending her bow arm just so…it was meditative violence. Only, the weight in her grip was wrong. The length of the yew too short. The tension of the string insufficient. Everything and anything inspired soreness over her stolen bow. Did her arrow pierce the bullseye anyway? Yes. Did that make her any less grumpy? No.

In keeping with tradition, she wore Wei’s colors beneath a treated leather cuirass. Both sleeves of that macabre shade of red pooled above the leather gauntlets, cinched just tight enough to optimize for freedom of movement. A heavy brown-black cape - bear hide, if one looked closely enough - was clasped to her cuirass, a trophy from a previous year. She dressed in layers; the snow may have thawed, but the mountain air could easily dip below freezing at night.

Perhaps it went without saying, but she was one of the best hunters in Wei, and, really, depending on who you asked, in existence. Kaixuan was an arguably better tracker, but, surprise surprise, archery skills went a long way in hunting. Having missed out on the Bear Hunt this past year on account of military obligations, Zhaoyang was itching to set the record straight this time around. Whether fortune would bless her with a bear big enough remained to be seen, but she fully intended on laying low every unfortunate shaggy bastard that crossed her path. Bladed bow or no bladed bow. Yep, still mad about that one.

Her excellent situational awareness alerted her to the approaching footsteps well before Kaixuan and Chao made it to her vicinity. This time around though, she had no kind words to spare for her brother, not with their tiff so fresh on her mind. Her gaze did not linger upon his much larger hand wrapped around Chao’s wrist; it was fairer to say that her eyes drifted over the pair of them like a withering winter breeze, gone as quick as it came. Kaixuan might have said something, being the far more diplomatic sibling, but Zhaoyang did not allow him an opportunity to do so before she was already walking away. Silence. Her preferred method of dealing with people she rather not deal with. It would appear that both of them had the misfortune of making it onto that list.

And besides, the Hunt was set to start soon, and she intended to ensure that her warhorse was in prime riding form.

The forest scene was spectacular. Immense woods - oaks, pines, and chestnuts - grew upon perpendicular steeps. They towered over the pinnacle of hills, descended deep into valleys, and ensured that no hunter could see beyond what was in his or her immediate vicinity. The land was rich, various, blooming with warm green tinged with pale ash and crops of yellow. The air was cool, fresh, and freeing.

The beautiful scenery was just about the only thing keeping Zhaoyang sane, because, five hours into the hunt, she still hasn’t even found a trace of a bear, much less actually sighting the beast itself. Grumpy was no longer sufficient as an adjective for her mood. She saw quite a few deers, and might have laid one low just because, had she not ridden away from Kaixuan and their shared manservant at her earliest opportunity. She wasn’t about to waste a signal flare to make the man fetch a mere deer. Now, there were no official rules on the method of hunting. Meaning, most groups opted for light scouting before setting up treestands and bait stations. Effective as it were, that was not Zhaoyang’s preferred method of hunting. No, she preferred to chase and stalk her prey, to give the bear a chance to run - or fight - whichever.

The terrain made riding difficult, but she had intended to camp out if necessary, and most certainly did not intend upon carrying her own supplies. She stayed alert, kept an eye out for shredded stumps, turned over rocks and logs, and really, just about anything that might even hint at the existence of a bear. By the sixth hour, fatigue began to set in, and it was then that fortune smiled upon her. Behold, the first ripped open log she spotted. This one was absolutely destroyed too. The bear must have been starving after its long hibernation. Good. A hungry bear was an active bear, which in turn, made for an easier to spot bear.

Zhaoyang followed the tracks the best she could, searching for signs of ruined terrain and animal waste. In previous years, this was an area she mostly deferred to Kaixuan’s expertise in. They always hunted together. Not this year though. The both of them were far too stubborn to reconcile their differences just yet.

Is that…? The ancient shrine jumped out amidst the greenery. It wasn’t anything Zhaoyang recognized, but it clicked with the puzzle that she had been brooding over for days now. The nerve of that masked assailant to return and leave a note! Zhaoyang might have even chalked it up to a practical joke but for the fact that she had been tight-lipped about her missing bow. She was quite certain that no one else knew of that fact and…what would make this then? An attempt at ambush?

She gripped at the scabbard belted to her waist. A sword was not even close to her first choice where hunting was concerned, but she had brought it in case of ambush. Dismounting, she bid her warhorse to stay, before scouting the scenery on foot. Below the prayer shrine. She leapt down the small hill, knuckles tight around the hilt, surveying the scene. Nothing. A second pass over, and she noticed the cavern mouth hidden beneath draping vines. It did not appear manmade. Zhaoyang stilled, looking around once more. Surely that woman wasn’t crazy enough to hide out in a dark cave for days waiting for her? This seemed reckless, but she also really wanted her beloved Oppressor back. Un-humbled, mind you.

Leaping back up the cliff face, she dug around in the saddlebags for a torch and a huo zhe zi (‘flame fold’/fire stick’) before returning. A curious invention made of copper. One strong exhale, and a flame flared. She ignited the torch, snuffed out the fire stick, and tucked the latter into a pouch secured to her belt. The black smoke burnt with the oppressive smell of animal fat as she made her way deeper into the cave, noting the claw marks decorating the slate walls. Well, whether she find her weapon or not, it appeared that she had found her bear’s resting place at least. That knowledge uplifted her spirits, and she ventured deeper, searching for the familiar glint.

prettysoft · Aug 22, 2022

Commandant… There were two, but only one startled her in her steps, incensing a loathing on the spot. Zhaoyang neither glanced in their direction or reacted to their arrival, Chao’s gaze lingering on the nimble and sturdily built frame of the Commandant firing arrow after arrow into the bullseye. The driving force behind every arrow chilled her to the bone, vivid memories of outstanding strength that could shatter pelvis and knock loose her pretty teeth; radiant chi that burned her eyes, and the color of envy piercing the solar, orange aura. Chao’s ethereal robes fluttered at her slippers, a gust ruffling her silk and stealing her breath away. Zhaoyang.

A hand clad in armor pulled her from the trance, but Chao wouldn’t forget how that cold night, Zhaoyang forced her to retreat in the midst of battle. Embittered, she fled into the shadows, unknowing of their true destination, but narrowly escaping capture, or worse. Thunk. A deep inhale filled her bosom with peace and calm, but it vaguely tasted of the dew from the waterfall she scaled, and the frozen magnolia petals singed by the explosive arrows. Those reminiscent flavors and scents overpowered the spring blossoms in the air, the smoked meat and fire wafting into the sky. Chao sat on the plush grass, noiseless and disinterested, yet following the flow of precise movement by the lady commandant. Kaixuan’s jaw visibly clenched, and he spoke the bare minimum, respectful as always. The ride to hunting grounds wasn’t unlike this, awkward and quiet. The lack of harmony between siblings tickled her ribs, the discordance entertaining her to no end. Zhaoyang’s withdrawn demeanor, and cold glare - was this her doing? Perhaps she read the siblings wrong, after all the jovial debates, harmless bickering, and evening roasts, their bond was strained. So much had changed, and Chao mused that all this tension stemmed from that night in her room. Not that she cared in the least, they were both awful company to keep around.

The beautiful courtesan-spy’s plan to spectate was squashed by the noble and proud sisters from the Shao family when they saw her with no business of her own, and promptly asked Chao to fill in for a friend at their table. It was an offer that she could refuse, but endeavored to entertain in her boredom. The women talked courtship, dinner recipes, and dished on the high ranking families. They played card games for hours, sipped tea as well. One of them heckled Chao about watching the ‘men’ practice, but all in good fun. Should she explain that what she eyed was not a man, but a beast of another nature entirely? They wouldn’t care. She doled out her flirtiest iterations to the ladies, which she handed out in appropriate measures, always amicable hiding her expression behind hearts and clubs. Chao waved the cards at the glittering perspiration on her forehead, and laid her hand on the table, exposing her winning hand. She was on a long victory streak of Gong Zhu, among other games that she absentmindedly agreed to play to pass the time. Sharing feminine wisdom and singing a traditional song vindicated her, but she always stole a glance at Zhaoyang, or Kaixuan. She withdrew from the table when Kaixuan gave her a consternating scowl. She peered around a body, swallowing her pride, rising from the table. Zhaoyang’s red-streaked ponytail stood out amongst the rich browns of the oaks and pines, and the commandant disappeared into the verdant leaves wavering in the evening breeze. Chao construed a weak story to slip away from the girls, sprinkling a compliment to their family name, bowing, before dismissing herself. The hunters and scouts dispersed into their groups to track the bear, leaving the servants, guards, and women behind. Chao wandered into the brush, her bright hanfu melding into the forest. She suspiciously eyed the fresh boot prints in the soil, deducing the general direction the commandant headed toward and the dark clouds looming overhead. A storm brewed to the east, where the old shrine sat on the bear’s cave. Though she had no interest in the annual bear hunt, it proved to be a great distraction for the Wei faction. She slinked away unnoticed, along her merry way gathering handfuls of healing monk root, sleeping lilies, and golden tea leaves; replacing the old sprigs and dried leaves sitting at the bottom of her herb pouch. She once carried an abundance of sweet and deadly berries, poisonous powders for every occasion - now forbidden fruits due to her new station in life.

On the fringe of land and forest, Chao knelt down in the high grass, wedged between a boulder and a pine tree; violet updo peaking over the green expanse. If anyone asked, she was collecting herbs to season the bear meat with. Bear meat, because she was absolutely going to slay a bear with her bare hands. In actuality, Chao's teacher failed to demonstrate the correct way to take down a wild bear, and the possibility of ever going head to head with the beast was the furthest thing from their thoughts. Her petite silhouette must have resembled a tasty fish dinner for the predator; vibrant colors and patterns like koi - or could it be the fragrant herb purse that attracted the meandering grizzly? Chao stashed a handful of salmon berries into her bag, none the wiser that the stalking bear sniffed her out in the bushes. She was a spy, a killer of carefully selected humans; not a hunter, nor an expert on bears. The animal poked through the other side of the foliage, its snout pinpointing the delicious scents emitted from Chao’s area; hooded, beaded eyes growing larger. She searched the deeply hued irises, mesmerized by the magnificence of the creature, how its emotions were so plainly hidden by primal instincts. The creature could not be awestruck by her beauty - it viewed her as a food source, a light snack. Nature was her karma for all the wrongdoings in the living world, that was her conclusion. Chao waited for it to advance, all the while her racing thoughts bounced between flee or freeze. If this were a person, the only response would be to fight.

The bear loped on all fours, grunting briskly, healthy white incisors and a burly mane coated in a dried rust. Chao wobbled to her feet, planted one foot onto the boulder and pushed off; jumping a hare's breath and twirling over the enraged animal. He averted his attention, aggressively pawed at the loose silk flowing over its head. She stumbled to her landing, palms flat on a tree trunk, and violet tendrils clinging to her rose-hued cheeks as she pivoted to face the beast. An ear piercing scream, unlike anything Chao ever heard, left her quivering lips. She vastly underestimated the speed and determination of the bear - it snarling inches away from her trembling features, roaring and standing on its hind legs, splattering her with meat breath. She couldn’t reminisce on a time when a greater fear controlled her body, when she couldn't move her feet. She slumped against the tree, regaining her senses as ebony claws slashed. Hugging the tree, she maneuvered to the other side, ducked into a ball and rolled two paces and swiveled on her heels. Her fingers outstretched to strike the beast, as the unmistakable presence entered the arena and a long, black arrow pierced the bear in the shoulder. The bear arced around to swing at the annoyance, and finding it out of reach, returned to its original target by swinging both arms. Chao dove out of the way, claws serrating the back of her hanfu, only grazing the skin. As it leaned forward to bite Chao on her midsection, she twisted onto her side, lifting her legs and using its skull to boost off of. She scooped earth up as she scrambled to her feet, pelted the mammal with dirt to irritate its vision. She yowled pathetically, as it sank its claws into her ankle, reeling in its catch by pulling on the leg. Like a peacock caught by a wild bear, Chao flailed her sleeves and slapped the bear in the muzzle, the beast grunting through it. Slipper met the animal's head, but when the bear opened its mouth, Chao clawed her way to the top.

"Help!" Chao freed her leg before it was a mangled mess, and threw herself in any direction that the bear wasn't. "C-Commandant!"

ƒeral · Aug 26, 2022

The deeper Zhaoyang traversed, the more her neck prickled with unease. Claw marks, lichen, and moss, those she expected to see in what appeared to be the home of a bear. A particularly impressive bear - judging from the distance between each serrated gash and the depth thereof. Crunch. She paused mid-step when something snapped beneath her boots, and she backstepped to reveal a human femur. This one was cracked in half, the clean edges of the fracture suggesting blunt force trauma. From the bear? A closer look furrowed her brows, because there were etchings on the bone. Someone or something had gouged tiny holes into the bone in strange patterns post-mortem, too narrow and precise to be gnaw marks. Who? Why? How did this bone get here?

An endless stream of questions troubled her even as she ventured deeper, and, under the oscillating light of her torch, more and more bones revealed themselves. Too many. Too scattered. There was something so fundamentally unnatural about this cave that even Zhaoyang tensed. Agitation clawed down her spine, and she tempered her heart rate with well practiced breathing exercises. She was quite certain that there was something more at play than just a dark and moldy cave, but her objective remained unchanged.

Another wave of her torch and, there! She could not help but smile when she caught sight of a familiar glint, and if she had rushed those last few steps over with the giddiness of a child reunited with her favorite toy, there was no one around to witness or judge her for the same. The peasant-clad skeleton gave her pause only after she had already pried the Oppressor from its grasp, because a whole skeleton, in a bear cave? It was…too intact. Bears mauled their victims, and this one was kneeling in a perfect prayer position. Urg. It was enough to make her skin crawl. She shook off the thought and made haste towards the entrance, vowing to investigate at a later time.

It turned out that her haste was warranted, because even as she neared the cavern mouth, a blood curdling scream stabbed her eardrums. Zhaoyang didn’t pause to analyze. Bounding forward at a heightened pace, she re-emerged just in time to witness a grizzly lounging towards something, someone. The torch cluttered to the ground, snuffing itself out on the damp forest floor, and she had the Oppressor in a full draw before those claws could connect. An eagle-fletched arrow meteored towards the ravenous beast, burrowing into its thick pelt and sinew shoulder. It was only then, as the bear pivoted to assess her presence, that she finally saw just whom the bear was attempting to maul.

Chao? Here? The courtesan-turned-spy had a knack for turning up in the most unexpected places, and however much that roused Zhaoyang’s suspicions, she was not one to stand idle and allow nature to run its course. It was against her ethos to allow a woman be buffeted by a wild animal, even if said woman had annoyed her in more than one way and on more than one occasion. If Chao ever asked though, it was because Zhaoyang needed to hunt a sufficiently impressive bear anyway. Saving her life was entirely incidental. The bear dropped to all fours, enraged by its prey’s temporary escape, and barreled forward with all the momentum of a battering ram. Built like one too, with its rotund frame and tree trunk like limbs. Zhaoyang could hardly be considered slight, but compared against the grizzly, she might as well have been a rice stalk swaying beneath the shadow of a fallen log.

“Hmph,” a low snort was all she offered by way of acknowledgement to Chao’s impassioned plea for help. However, verbal avowal or not, her action spoke clearer than words. Chao ran towards her, and Zhaoyang freed three arrows more. Those glinting steel points sallied harmlessly past Chao, not even so much as grazing a sleeve, before burrowing fletching deep into the rampaging beast. The aggravated animal did not stop, its ample fat deposits more than adequate at preserving its vitals. That was fine; all she sought from those three shots were just to stagger the bear enough to allow for Chao to run behind her back.

Even though it was spring, when the bear should have rightfully slumbered away much of its weight, this one remained massive. Luck, skill, or human intervention, it was impossible to say. The bear was a mere ten paces away now, ambling forward with an agility unbefitting its corpulent build, but it was not the gust roused by the bear’s charge that lifted Zhaoyang’s sleeves nor those signature sanguine tassels. She would not dirty her hands in melee with a bear. A full draw; the Oppressor gleamed in warning, three arrows notched as she had demonstrated once prior. Chi flared, silk fluttered, and those arrows whistled as they skewered the apex predator. She was the best archer in Wei, a title she would never tire of defending.

Nearly a thousand pounds of nature’s finest murder machine came bearing down, but Zhaoyang did not so much as flinch. In comparison to her bout against the blackguard, this was almost anticlimactic. The menacing creature halted, a mere foot away, slumping over. Blood poured from its gaping maw, coated those cracked teeth, and drenched its fur. Zhaoyang was slightly miffed that she ruined her perfect bear belt by studding so many arrows into it, but, at the very least, a bear this size should guarantee her victory. For now though, she had something more pressing on her mind. Turning away from the corpse, she scanned Chao in a hasty once over, ensuring that all limbs were intact. Not that she cared, of course. Honor dictated that she lay low any man-eating animals. That was all.

“What are you doing here-” Before she could complete that thought, thunder boomed, near deafening. Rain pelted down with supernatural suddenness. But, at these altitudes, perhaps that was not so strange after all. What was strange - and this would haunt her for weeks after - was the way the bear rose. Her trademark explosive arrows had exploded its heart and lungs, and yet, there it was, clambering up off of the detritus. Blood poured from the white of its eyes, unseeing, ominous. Limbs stretched peculiarly, growing. Jerky. Fast. With her back turned to the carcass, Zhaoyang reacted too late. Her impeccable instincts managed to wretch her out of the way of death’s blow, but not fully. Ebony claws that were somehow sharper and more durable than before caught against her upper left arm as she twisted to evade, Oppressor’s blade parrying its other paw. Blood gushed almost immediately, soaking her sleeve the same as rain, suggesting a depth of the wound contradictory to her silence. She was already pivoting, hissing, slashing forward with the blade of her bow only to have the same parried by those talons more durable than steel. “Witchcraft,” she spat out the word with clear distaste, stating the obvious. The zombie bear was still growing.

prettysoft · Oct 20, 2022

The bear staggered from the first arrow, presenting an opening for Chao to escape during the calculated assault. She crawled on her elbows and dragged herself through the wavering grass; knees to chest, as if a newly unshackled prisoner from the trenches of Diyu. The bear wailed at its blistering injury, and Chao rose to her feet, scampering, helpless; as if she hadn’t witnessed all sorts of horror with the same eyes, or dodged death countless times before. Would Zhaoyang take pity upon her, and ignore her suspicious behavior? In the midst of danger, a second, hidden danger lurked. It was never lost on Chao that she could take care of Zhaoyang, but she deserved better than that. For now, they were square. The last of the arrows hit their target, and Chao swallowed, shielding her visage with her arm. The friction created by the explosive arrows ripples the air, charging it with chi. The bear’s undying spirit roared down onto Chao’s cowering frame. An unexpected resurgence prompted it to grow stronger and taller, taunting the puny mortals for being so small, and vulnerable. As Zhaoyang inspected her for injury, Chao struggled in the presence of witchcraft. Out of range of the beast's claws, the immense dark power radiating around it seemed otherworldly to the courtesan. “There is something unnatural about that bear.” A jagged exhale relieved a portion of the tension budding in her tight chest; goosebumps on her forearms, heart palpitating to the rhythm of the rain pelting her wispy hanfu.

“Impossible.” Chao stammered from her beautifully glossed mouth, violet tresses obscuring her lilac gaze and sticking to her dirt dusted cheekbones. She was ghost white, flicking between the cold monster and her savior, the commandant; upper lip fidgeting as water trickled over her cupid's bow. “Move, Zhaoyang.” Chao warned wholeheartedly, sweeping and clinging to the soil, back arching and bosom close to the earth - the bear’s claws slicing through her thick strands, leaving the left side of her bangs blunted. The bear thrashed, and hummed as if possessed by another being altogether, lacerating Zhaoyang’s flesh with ease. “It refuses to die!” A devil’s apostle must have sunken its claws into the bear, willing it to live on even after death, commanding it to wreak havoc on all that moved. The haunted beast huffed and growled at her, standing up to reveal its stretched limbs, elongated claws and burgundy irises. Zhaoyang and the bear were preoccupied with one another, and this called to mind how Zhaoyang approached her - like a savage beast to be tamed. Only this animal could not be tamed, and with witchcraft in its paws their best chance at survival was to run.

Run!

Her ankle was tender where the bear hugged it, and vision blurred as the rain poured down from the heavens, soaking her to the bone. Chao’s slender digits found Zhaoyang’s roughened fingertips, slid upon it and slipped over her wrist delicately. “Its claws are poisonous.” And why had she needed to take hold of Zhaoyang’s hand to convey her message? There was a ravenous bear after them, but the smoky black oozing from Zhaoyang’s sleeve was cause for concern. “Your arm - it’s turning…”

Electric lavender parted the skies and the bear loomed over Chao and Zhaoyang, enormous paws capable of leaving craters in the wet soil. What little roseate was left in her cheeks drained as the bear stomped and pounced at them. Chao threw herself over the commandant, thighs parted over her hips and her hands pinning her shoulders flush to the soil. Rain water quickly accumulated in the holes the bear left, and every thread of her hanfu was drenched, violet locks freed from every glass ornament and silver hair pin holding her sculpture of an updo in place. It freely tumbled over her shoulders, down the small of her back. Those glistening irises pierced through the mist, painting a horrific image. She scrunched Zhaoyang’s sleeve up into her hands and pulled her to her feet - not that she needed the help getting her own legs to work. “In there.” Chao designated the cave as their safe space; swiveled on her slippered toes and leaped like a grasshopper from bolder to earth, Zhaoyang at her side. The mouth of the cave was far too small for the over grown bear to squeeze into. It seemed to move slower than its living counterpart. A blessing from Buddha, or the sky gods. Chao would not complain.

ƒeral · Oct 23, 2022

The wise man said: fortunes and flowers are fleeting, an age-old adage that Zhaoyang was coming to know with unfortunate intimacy. She had recovered her bow and spotted her prize, and, for all intent and purposes, laid it low. And then…this, whatever this was. The sudden rain saturated air and space, muting vision and scent alike. Rich petrichor overtook all else, but even through that, she could smell the distinct copper and iron of her own blood.

Her focus was not on her injury, however, but entirely devoted to the bear, to the extent this grotesque defilement of life and nature could still be considered a bear. Standing on its back paws and towering, those unnaturally long front limbs moved jerkily, but with absolutely lethal intent. She parried once more, grunting low. Her boots skid against the softened earth, digging tracks into the ground from the force of the blow, before she followed through with her arc and sliced deep into a massive claw. Blood streamed, brown and black rather than red, and the white of bone peered through the mass of fur and gore, but the monstrosity did not even stagger.

“You should go,” she snapped back, never averting her gaze from her foe. Her imperial features twisted with malice, and there was that temper again, flaring sharper and brighter than ever. It had been years since she last bled in battle, and to suffer a wound from an animal, cursed or not, wounded her pride beyond words could impart. She was absolutely the tooth for a tooth type, and the fact that she strengthened her stance and stepped forward rather than back was proof of the same. Chao appeared to have different ideas though.

Zhaoyang winced at the subtle pull against her injured arm, which, by all accounts, was appropriately gentle. The slightest motion sent shooting pain along her arm, and she noticed belatedly that the severity of the pain was perhaps not from the laceration alone. Chao appeared to have observed the same, and, despite the anger shimmering in her blood, Zhaoyang was capable of reason. She could win this bout, she was sure, but a pyrrhic victory was no victory at all, and only a fool did not understand the value of strategic retreat.

And so, she did not argue, and followed Chao’s lead, only to be quite unnecessarily flattened into the ground. She bit back her complaint, teeth clenching from her injury, once again, being jostled. Her once pristine bear cape acquired a thin layer of water-sloshed mud and grass stains, minor sacrifices in the grand scheme of things. The bear, overshooting its pounce from its prey suddenly dropping into the ground, soared overhead. Thirty feet, her mind supplied, it cleared over thirty feet in one pounce. What frightening power. “I’m not an invalid, stop pulling me.” Even in the face of death, her awful temperament had to make itself known. But, grumbling aside, Chao was right, and so, cave it was. She spared a momentary thought for her trusted steed, praying for its safe passage back to camp.

Zhaoyang slung her bow over a shoulder by the bowstring. Ordinarily, she would never treat her prized possession so crudely, but the cave was dark, darker now with an enraged predator clawing at the entrance and pouring rain drowning out light. And, judging by the twitch traversing all the way down her fingertips, she really should lay off her left arm. She fished out the fire stick even as they made their way deeper into the cave, just in case. The fire, without the potency of her torch, was a feeble flicker at best, but it was enough to illuminate their immediate vicinity.

She did not stop walking until the aggravated roar of the undead bear was indistinguishable from the muted beats of thunder and rain. Then and only then did she slump against the cavern wall, dropping into a seated position. She set her bow down carefully, avoiding the bloodied edges. Chi cycled, continuously, protecting her vitals and keeping the poison localized. But that was a far cry from expelling the toxin, and the difference was pronounced. Cold sweat beaded along her temple, indistinguishable from the rain drenching her cloth. The temperature was a non issue; her chi could easily remedy the same, but it was problematic that her vision blurred ever so slightly, and she could feel her heart hammer within her ribcage.

Without a word, Zhaoyang handed the firestick to Chao, before undoing the leather gauntlet around her left forearm. Thereafter, she gripped her sleeve by the shoulder and yanked, grimacing. The crimson linen proved no match as she shredded through the stitching of the shoulder, peeling the entire sleeve - rain and blood including - off. Devoid of linen, her title of Commandant was made that much more obvious by the musculature of her bow arm. She was lean, but incredibly cut, her forearm and tricep pronounced from years and years of holding the hefty xuantie bow. Auburn spiraled up her arm in the likeliness of an ascending dragon, tapering off at her forearm and thickening as it reached her shoulder. The no doubt snarling visage of the beast disappeared beneath the now ruined robe. Even the immaculately inked scales could not mask the three jagged claw marks that stretched from bicep to tricep, the semi-congealed wound a worrying shade, more brown than red. The lines of her deltoid flexed as she brought her arm parallel to the ground and inspected the wound, prompting an irritated sigh. In her weakened state, she debated between a threat or something more diplomatic, and settled somewhere in the middle.

“Talk, what were you doing out here?”

prettysoft · Oct 24, 2022

Gripped by the fear of succumbing to this corrupted bear’s claws and gnashers, haunting brown eyes that swirled into rust and dilated pupils like bloodied saucers fixated on the blurred silhouettes. When she peered over her shoulder, the bear burst through the misted rain, maw open wide to bite, but Chao tumbled into the cliffside, into the cave’s mouth. Her back pressed onto the wall, and she jumped out of her skin at the even colder temperature, as if ice had rolled down her posterior. The slash marks on her hanfu frayed the silken thread, left it dangling immodestly to reveal the curve of her shoulder and unfortunately failed to protect her from the elements. Chao tentatively advanced on the shape in the dark, knowing the lean figure to be Zhaoyang. Who else would it be? She, a mere courtesan turned spy, bravely risked her life to save Zhaoyang - commandant of the Wei. Her arch nemesis, an enemy of the state and faction she pledged allegiance to. When she could leave her to die in the cave and escape without more than a scratch and an inch or two of her bangs missing; who would believe the extraordinary lies and unlikely circumstances? That she could escape on her own while a wild grizzly attacked and ravaged the Zhaoyang and left her alive to plead her case in front of Kaixan. A small part of Chao - just a measly, tiny piece - appreciated that Zhaoyang lived on to tell the tale, but aiding Zhaoyang complicated not only her relationship with the commandant, but the one she curated since teenagehood with her General. But, whether she lived through the evening pertained to the horrendous, cursed arm, and that burden fell upon Chao’s tight shoulders to hastily remedy.

Soaked down to the slippers, Chao traversed the unexplored tunnels at Zhaoyang’s side; appearing as if a death reaper to harvest a soul. These caverns reminded her of simpler times. Stealing Zhaoyang’s bow from her hands and stowing it away for her to find after sending her on a wild goose chase, that was fresh, even fun.. As her slippers crunched pebbles beneath her dainty steps, the only recognizable sound being Zhaoyang’s laborious breaths and the trickle of water from her sopping threads. Their furred assailant must have prowled the premises, searching for a way into the caves to finish its meal. For the moment, the two of them were safe, but what of the campers? Though she was never one to care, the wives of the greedy hunters would surely suffer if the cursed bear journeyed that way. The mere thought upset her stomach, to the bloodbath it would be.

You do not look so well, Commandant. Not a word escaped her pallid and damp lips, swallowing harshly over what felt like a knot in her throat. Zhaoyang’s chi once burned vibrant and strong, but what Chao gleaned behind her eyelids was like a polluted lake; rather a blockage in her nervous system working to bring her down to her knees. Her lilac irises darted toward the injured arm, as Zhaoyang abruptly paused in her steps and forced the torch in her cold, trembling hands. Chao’s tranquility and peace, nor song and music could offer Zhaoyang solace in her dire time of need. The commandant required real assistance, or she would soon perish in the most horrific way. Her sclera was even more pronounced, as Chao’s eyes opened wide and Zhaoyang dismantled her shoulder pad, linen, and the copper and underlying sulfuric scent seeping out of the gaping wound - slicing the stagnated air and petrichor.

Silence was her new position, because that state of being happened to be the norm - her new norm, since serving the Shens. She was not a wise healer or an experienced doctor, but all ninja, and all women were experienced in minor first aid. If not for her time spent as an apothecary's apprentice, then she would not have known to always grab monk root if you see it. Again, she resigned to silence, biting her tongue and knelt down near Zhaoyang, using the torchlight to illuminate the wounds inflicted on her arm.

“Your arm.” It was quite obvious that Zhaoyang’s arm, in addition to her vitals, were under an immense amount of stress. If not for Zhaoyang’s skillful use of chi cycling, then the commandant may not have risen from the ground at all, but the Shen style may have been her saving grace. “It is brown, but not like the rich soil that teems with life…” Zhaoyang’s arm screamed infection and inflammation, it was sickly. In another light, Zhaoyang’s powerful bow arm might elicit a different response entirely, but she needed help now. Chao’s moist lips parted to speak, to offer a helpful suggestion, but Zhaoyang's probing immediately put a pause to that. Her eyebrows rose into her hairline briefly, though not a single wrinkle or crack marred her dewy complexion, and Chao could not hide her pure amusement that even while lying on her deathbed, Shen Zhaoyang hounded her even on her last breath. Not a word to her family, or...?

“Even when I am prepared to help, you bite at my ankles, sniff me down.” Chao imagined running away into the rain, telling the camp that she attempted to save Commandant Zhaoyang’s life, but she was too stubborn to accept help, to hear her out. She reached for Zhaoyang’s infected arm, expecting the woman to recoil or lash out - rabid animals were often unpredictable even when being thrown a bone. “You should be grateful that monk root grows in and around these shrines.” Yes. That’s right, Chao picked a handful of the sage herbs when she was collecting seasoning for the bear meat. Of course, she crawled on her hands and knees in the dirt only for a few reasons. “A poison more dangerous, a curse more painful than the one you have inflicted upon me, and yet…” Chao’s chin downturned, a studious healer attending to a patient? No, but the commandant would need to accept Chao’s expertise. “Do you know how monk root earned its name?”

Chao’s soaking wet layers only served to weigh her down, to keep her cold when she craved warmth.The shiver to her delicate shoulders, the rumbling in her bones as she quaked to fight hypothermia. Zhaoyang must have felt the same, but one thing at a time. A threatening bang, and muted thud on the ceiling of the cave sparked fear into Chao’s eyes. The bear taunted and roared, because they were in its den and any place it could call home would be too small. She had a bout of nerves, but quickly came to her senses. Her long nails stained in Zhaoyang’s blood from simply touching her wrist, hibiscus print splattered with blood that was not her own. A bloodstained hand searched along her hips, locating the herb pouch she filled in her earlier explorations. By now, those herbs were drenched and ruined, but monk root flourished in the water - activating its purifying properties. “It is said that the monks and priestesses of old used this before and during their spiritual warfare. It may dampen the curse.” Chao explained, as she obtained a bouquet of monkroot, applying it in layers to the shredded and discolored flesh.

“Close your eyes, Commandant. You have to visualize the poison leaving your bloodstream.”

ƒeral · Oct 27, 2022

Recoil or lash out? Neither, actually. Because, despite Chao’s aggravating insistence at comparing her to a rabid dog, Zhaoyang was very much a person. Recoiling was beneath her, and, though she was wary to the bone, she understood the gentle probing as one meant to assess her injuries. And so, beyond thinning her lips into a narrow and stubborn line, she said nothing of it and allowed Chao her impromptu lecture about herbs and legends.

That being said, Zhaoyang’s skittishness was not difficult to spot. Like a stray animal mistrustful of any and all who dared approach, her leeriness reflected in the tightness of her shoulders and the sharp clench of her arms. Touching other people without the mutual infliction of violence was almost a foreign concept to her. She should be aghast at the impunity Chao claimed without express permission, but instead found herself too busy being flabbergasted at how she didn’t hate it as much as she would have assumed. It was the poison, she decided, and the start of a fever that she could feel dulling her keen wits.

“You sure seem to know a whole lot about poison.” Even with her arm nearly ribboned by a bear and her nervous system assaulted by some unknown toxin, it was that fact she zeroed in on. More than adapt at reading between the lines, she might have pursued that train of thought into a makeshift interrogation on any other occasion. However, today, the accusatory statement she lobbied was more of an attempt to ground herself.

She was in charge - doesn’t matter time, place, or in this instance, how close she might or might not be to death. Her physical ailments only spurred that near obsessive need for control, and she considered barking out an order or two before her gaze snapped to the sudden threat pummeling the ceiling, right hand instantly seizing around the grip of her bow. That proved unnecessary, as a quick once over assured herself of the sturdiness of the cave. She had been atop this small hill prior to dismounting, and, judging from the landscape, solid rock formations acted as a bulwark between the two of them and the cursed monstrosity. Contented of their relative safety, she loosened her grip once more, a hint of a sneer serving as her only response to the taunting roar.

Sniffing the air, she satisfied herself with the pungent scent of the medicinal herb, and kept her thoughts close to herself while Chao… What. Assisted Zhaoyang out of the goodness of her heart? No. Sought to preserve her own life, perhaps. Between the internal threat of the Immaculate Death and the external threat of the bear, it made absolute sense that Chao should render herself useful. Or at least, that was how she attempted to justify it to herself. Attempt, because it didn’t quite stick. It was impossible not to note the gentleness of those fingers smearing herbs over her arm even whilst that slender frame quaked with the bitter chill. Chao was patient. Patient and…kind. It was a sentiment Zhaoyang was wholly unused to, and frankly, she did not know how to process it.

So instead, she allowed the suspected master of poison to finish playing at healer, before sighing. “That seems unnecessary, medicine is medicine.” Stubborn as a mule, so the proverb went. Although, in Zhaoyang’s case, the challenge was perhaps finding a mule as stubborn as she. If nothing else, her arm at least felt better beneath the soothing cold of the layered herbs, a small relief given the incredible amount of pain she was in. If Chao expected an expression of gratitude, however, then she would be sorely disappointed.

The cave provided shelter from the elements, but the single, dying flame offered nothing by way of warmth. She should be cold, which wasn’t actually the case thanks to, no doubt, the fever infecting her blood. Her thoughts came slower, and it took conscious effort to maintain coherency. Rationality, however, can fuck itself. Because she should not, should never, feel something akin to guilt when regarding the enemy spy turned unwilling agent, and yet…

Zhaoyang would blame the fever come morning.

In the here and now, she caught Chao’s free wrist with her uninjured arm and tugged. Mauled and cursed or not, her physical superiority over Chao was unquestionable as she pulled the shivering woman against herself, her leather cuirass serving as a lonesome steward for some semblance of decency. A pleasant scent - a scent, scratch that first part - tickled her senses - and Zhaoyang was quite convinced that she had gone mad entirely. Even with her armor in the way, Chao was soft and fit within her arms in a way that she was both too tired and too alarmed to analyze. And so, she did the only thing she knew how - continue barreling forward with complete utter bullheadedness.

“Sh.” Was that impolite? Probably. One might say that Zhaoyang was quite a few steps past impolite on a regular basis. But she was in no mood to entertain arguments, and she made that clear with the cool authority cloaking her otherwise tired rasp. “My cape unclasp at the shoulders, undo it and pull it around for warmth.” It wouldn’t be as effective as a fire, but there were few ideas worse than starting a fire in a poorly ventilated area. Besides, as Chao had no doubt already found out, Zhaoyang’s coursing chi was quite adequate as a personal space heater in a pinch.

prettysoft · Nov 2, 2022

Chao squeezed the last bit of patience and kindness from her spirit when she purposely bit her tongue to keep unnecessary explanations and unkind words hurled Zhaoyang’s way. Her bottom lip adorably vibrating from the transitional winter-spring rain; eyes widening with kittenish curiosity that the feverish Zhaoyang refused to close her damned eyes. This is a crucial step for survival, but one can not have it all.

To communicate it simply, Chao disliked Zhaoyang to a degree that left the partially exposed courtesan glaring daggers at the woman. Chao was trembling like a canine left out in the rain too long, and for once, she likened herself to a mutt - rather than a flower that received too much watering that day. Dog and flower; Qin and Wei. Chao imagined there were less differences between them in this darkly lit cave. She instinctively masked how uncomfortable she was, that the tip of her nose glowed bright red and her fingertips numb. Pitiful as she felt, spies were trained to hide their pain, but she was only human.

Glossing over Zhaoyang's injury, the monkroot’s healing properties were taking effect. Doubtful that Zhaoyang was feeling any of it just yet, but her wound appeared cleaner. She half-raised her arm to locate more herbs, and clutched a batch between her slender digits. Zhaoyang pulled her down before she could scarcely protest, scattering the herbs about and Chao gasped in turn. The extempore embrace angled Chao in such a way that her knee buried into Zhaoyang’s thigh, palm flat on the chestplate and caressing the hardened hide. She did not bristle, nor melt into a puddle at the commandant’s hug. Chao curved into the woman, glancing upwards past the defined chin, at her impeccable bone structure that captivated her the first time seeing Zhaoyang in person. She would not dwindle away into nothing at being shown the slightest kindness.

“Thank you.” Chao’s teeth chattered quietly, and she sealed her lips to silence the sounds. Her shoulders quaked gently, bosom shook as she partially straddled the commandant. She unfastened the clasp, expanded the cape so that it covered herself and the commandant. A ragged exhale as the warmth spread over her slowly, and she dipped her head, resting her cheek between Zhaoyang’s muscular shoulder and neck. Being nice to Zhaoyang was on her personal agenda for the day, to get closer to her, but after the debacle in her room it was more difficult than ever to get past the blockade the commandant erected around her heart and thoughts. Chao was more often than not on her bad side, irksome to her in some way. Yet, here she was, sitting upon her lap and leeching her body heat. It helped that Chao’s temperature could cool Zhaoyang’s body off.

Snaking beneath the commandant’s armor turned out easier than she expected. Her delicate hands, frigid and soft, accessed the slit in her armor and chased the heat contained within. “I need your body heat.” The courtesan snuggled close to Zhaoyang’s neck, shallow, short exhales in an unsteady rhythm. As her body worked to regulate to a normal temperature, Chao shut her eyes, probing, gentle digits resting over Zhaoyang’s stomach. Unsurprisingly, it was one of the hottest places on her body. A deep, contented sigh lifted her chest, and she realized how worn out the bear hunt left her. But, even with the newfound peace in the cave, Chao wondered how long this could last - if it was even real at all.

ƒeral · Nov 6, 2022

Much as Zhaoyang was not inclined towards offering gratitude, she was similarly averse to being the recipient of the same. She could file almost everything in her life into some lofty category - duty, honor, patriotism, or the ambition she kept well hidden. Undertaking something for someone else, just to be nice, that was a foreign concept. Although, with some finagling, she could justify it as a tic-for-tac, repaying the debt of medicine with warmth, perhaps. And so, when Chao thanked her, all she offered in response was a terse nod, more felt than seen. Feverish or not, her mind was never at rest, and already it was churning through at least half a dozen versions of how this could go terribly wrong, what the next step was, and what Chao’s game was.

She cooperated with her cape being removed, easing up off of the wall a smidgen. Not to assist, but rather to ensure minimal disturbance to her injury. That the affliction was to her bow arm was fortunate. Although she had acquired a level of ambidexterity with an overabundance of training, her right arm being her dominant arm was obvious from the way she fought. If push came to shove, she could still strike at a heartbeat’s notice - palm, knuckle, or the sword belted at her waist. Whether the threat might emerge in the shape of a once-bear-but-not, or in the form of the fragile and shivering body draped against her, Zhaoyang was always prepared. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. That was what this was. Yes, she could, and would justify it, ~~lest her head explode~~.

Her convoluted mental calculus screeched to a halt when Chao did that thing you were never supposed to do - looked the gift horse right in the mouth. Or, perhaps it was more accurate to say, Chao dug into the horse’s hide, ignored its fidgeting, and mounted the foul-tempered beast. All without any semblance of reins. It went without saying that the natural result was being thrown off and either kicked, trampled, or both, right? So why was it then that Zhaoyang instead froze, the cord of her neck flexing noticeably and her stomach going from relaxed to a slat of lean muscle. Those eyes she refused to close rounded with alarm, and had Chao not burrowed herself into Zhaoyang’s neck like a newborn kitten into the nearest warm spot, she might have been greeted with a most unusual sight. The ever murderous, aloof, and authoritarian Commandant, wearing something that looked awfully like embarrassment? Must have been a trick of the light.

“Sit still,” Zhaoyang’s voice came out strained, nearly snapping. It was close to the irate way she projected her voice at the fleeing blackguard, so familiar she was with masking everything and anything with animosity. She brought a plated boot close to the opposite thigh, shifting her weight and rearranging Chao to lean against her uninjured side. And, more importantly, to stop the woman from encroaching into her lap in that entirely inappropriate and far too distracting way. “Body heat is ineffectual with those waterlogged layers on.” That was not an invitation to strip. And, before there could be any sort of misunderstanding, she pulled Chao tighter into her right side, raising her hand and pushing the rain drenched hair to the side. Her fingers seized around the back of neck in a way that was ironically familiar. Disciplining a cur. Scruffing a cat. Same difference, really.

“Focus on your breathing.” Zhaoyang expanded her chi, injecting from the vital pressure points at the top of the spine. “Do not fight me.” It wasn’t that she expected intentional resistance, but rather any martial practitioner naturally opposed foreign chi, and it wouldn’t do either of them any good to waste energy clashing in such a fashion. The solar vitality of her chi was reminiscent of the way she previously contained the Immaculate Death, but not exactly the same. Because this time, rather than seeking to overtake all the meridians, what she sought instead was to flow parallel with Chao’s. There was a method to this madness. Not that she would ever admit it verbally, but there was a surprising synergy between their respective schools. Calling it the natural cohesion of yin and yang would not be inaccurate, but she would never invoke such clichés. Being the diligent martial practitioner she was, it only stood to reason that Zhaoyang was incredibly well read on all manners of qigong practice. Although, she had never practiced this particular version, this…co-cycling, because this was almost disturbingly intimate. And it was obvious by now that Zhaoyang was allergic to intimacy, right? “Sleep, if you like.” She was exhausted herself, but meditation was itself a form of rest. And, injured, poisoned, and soaked to the bone or not, Zhaoyang letting her guard down was an impossibility.

prettysoft · Nov 9, 2022

One satiny eyelid cranked open as Chao squinted her pointed and intentional disdain for Zhaoyang. She was trying to rest, or convincing herself that being in Zhaoyang’s lean, and sturdy arms did not captivate her in some sense. She successfully restrained her impulses. Nevertheless, desiring to brush the areas where the stakes were too high and the temperatures flaring upwards; unlocking qi pathways between her hips. Pure and primal lust - anything else, would be discarded. Waterlogged or not, the heat rising onto her skin was like sliding into a personal hot spring after trekking through the snowy slopes of Mt. Jihua. It mattered little that Zhaoyang moved positions, only that she continued to keep Chao warm. Where Chao’s tender digits grazed the defined lines on Zhaoyang’s abdomen; they smoothly transitioned to Zhaoyang’s wrist. She angled her face closer to Zhaoyang, committing to the possibility that there was ardor in the gentle way that she brushed her hair from her eyes - if something unseen lingered behind the stoic mask. There was little time to fully decide what the gesture aimed to do, or decipher Zhaoyang's intentions, but she thirsted for more of that. And, if Zhaoyang wanted her to strip, then it wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last time that it was implied. Her eternally quivering lips lifted into a semblance of a lopsided smirk, pawing at her arch nemesis's bicep. Oh? Scruffing by the collar? Chao’s shoulders locked up, nails embedding into the woman’s wrist in meager defiance.

“What is this?” The torch flame glowed and cast its shadow on the wall laden with scratches and grooves; highlighting the confusion on Chao’s face as a firm grip on her neck glued her to Zhaoyang’s embrace. She composed her features into near concern, but her tone was too icy; unaffected and accustomed to the liberal way in which Zhaoyang had attached herself to her body. “Stop this.” A clear authority over her spirit, and her own fluid qi disrupted by the compatible and pleasantly blazing chi mingling with her own. Her tongue held to the roof of her mouth, Chao composed herself and her eyebrows fastened subtly in concentration. Like a bear cub nestling into a bigger, warmer cub, Chao comfortably relaxed in Zhaoyang’s lap. Everything made sense; it was like green tea leaves steeped in pure water for the perfect duration. Zhaoyang’s chi blended with Chao’s lavender blue, upsetting a balance in the Dantian, or resetting it. The radiant chi folded into hers, steering her breathing from chattering exhales to whispering purrs.

Sleep, if you like.

Buzzing, as a small shift in consciousness erupted through her ~~whistling snore~~ meditative exercise. The weight of all her ~~recent~~ wrongs hit her like a punch in the gut, and an epiphany startled her back to the waking world. She realized that Zhaoyang’s kindness towards her only extended so far, and for so long. Cuddling with the enemy was only one step to conquering the ruthless and controlling Wei, but this avenue took time and careful consideration on her part. The goal was to be cordial, to earn a trust in Zhaoyang. ~~To seduce her into providing the antidote.~~She glanced over her shoulder, at the orange seeping into the sapphire and purples ushering in a new dawn. There was no telling what today held in store for her. She smacked her lips together softly, batted her violet lashes as a quick examination of the commandant revealed her arm to be further along in the healing process than expected. Her curious gaze traveled all along the commandant’s silhouette. Confounded by Zhaoyang’s beauty, she brushed red-streaked tresses from along her cheek. Her skin was no longer feverish, soft against her fingertips. There was an ethereal quality to the commandant when she slept; it drew her in like a fish needs water. Chao could not act as a sinless woman; or behave as a revered saint that a straight and narrow individual such as the commandant would tolerate. The type of woman that could entice Zhaoyang with her respectable standing. Someone courteous and maidenly that would let Zhaoyang in - does as commanded when instructed to do so. If Zhaoyang knew that she was not simply an imperial spy, but a murderer, and thief for the Qin…

She imagined an outcome where if anyone discovered her true identity, then she would die an excruciating death. It was safe to say that she would sooner end her life, the honorable way. Flashing something like regret in her irises, Chao dismounted Zhaoyang and blanketed her in the hide that so kindly kept her insulated overnight.

ƒeral · Nov 13, 2022

Chao wouldn’t get far. Her attempt to disentangle herself was abruptly interrupted by a viper-fast grip, yanking hard enough to bodily haul her back. “No,” the refusal was redoubled in the form of a sleep-rasped rumble even as Zhaoyang crushed Chao into a tight hug. She was comfortable, somehow, in spite of having slept in her armor and being in the worst shape she had been in ages. Perhaps it were the warmth, the softness, or that pleasant fragrance wafting over the lingering dredges of monkroot. Her sleep had been exceptional - when had she even fallen asleep? - so much so that Chao stirring hadn’t woken her. This was a rarity, given her usual alertness, and it wasn’t until she had satisfactorily re-secured her unwitting body pillow, burrowed her nose into the juncture of neck and shoulder and inhaled, that Zhaoyang actually began to wake.

What transpired seconds prior, more specifically, what she herself had done, dawned on her slowly. And the impact thereof was not dissimilar to a cat discovering a cucumber behind itself. Zhaoyang tensed, nearly flinching. “That’s not what I-” and pause, as her groggy brain attempted its utmost to come up with something. Anything really, to justify what in the world she just did. Although ordinarily reticent, Zhaoyang was always articulate, and her stumbling now was artlessly uncharacteristic. She cleared her throat, before continuing. “What I meant to say was, where do you think you are going?” Good. That was good. The heavily implied threat was exactly what she needed to explain away this awkward predicament. She insisted upon the forceful ‘hug’ a moment longer, mostly to make it seem like she did it entirely on purpose, before finally letting go.

“We should get going. I do not hear that monstrosity; perhaps it is averse to daylight. It is imperative we take this opportunity to make our way back to camp.” There was nothing particularly questionable about what she said, beyond the fact that she used we. With anyone else, that would have simply been a given, but Zhaoyang was notoriously solitary. Rescuing Chao from the bear’s maw was one thing, but offering her safe passage back to camp? Something had changed, however subtly. But now was neither the time nor place for such meandering inquiries. Zhaoyang picked herself up, dusted her cape off, and waited for obedience.

『 A day after 』

“Did you hear? The Bear Hunt was canceled early this year, I heard there was foul play involved.” A servant, stout and just old enough to have his first whiskers, leaned towards his senior and exclaimed.

“Shh, don’t raise your voice so loud.” The older, rounder fella snapped, grimacing and made the universal hush gesture.

“I’m just saying--”

“Look, I’m friends with Chonglin, okay?”

“Chonglin, the manservant that accompanied the Commandants? You must tell me everything!”

“I will, I will, now pipe down. Chonglin said he saw Commandant Zhaoyang return with his own eyes. She was missing a sleeve, and looked like she got mauled by something big.”

“A bear?”

“Can’t be, what kind of bear can get in ten feet of the Commandant?”

“Then…?”

“Look, I don’t know either, but guess who was with the Commandant?”

“Don’t tell me…”

“Yep, that woman.”

The first servant grimaced, before rapping his knuckle on the nearby wooden railing. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I dislike her, but she’s…”

“Bad luck?”

“...more like cursed, with everything that’s been going on…”

“Hey, what the hell are you two whispering about, get back to work!”

“Eep, yes sir!”

Despite Xiao’s best efforts, there was no stomping out the gossip that spread like wildfire. Captain Wu, dead with his corpse defiled. Daoist Master Wang Li, last seen fleeing the estate screaming about ghosts. And now, one of the Commandants injured during the annual hunt? Everything pointed to the cursed doll and the bloodied surname inscribed thereupon. Unease descended over the House of Shen like a suffocating shroud. And yet, during this troubled time, one had cause to celebrate. Maybe.

『 Meanwhile, in the East Wing 』

“Lady Chao, are you present?” The gruff voice belonged to Huiliang, one of the General’s personal servants, whose face was less seen around here given the heightened security around the Master Wing. Now, leaving aside the fact that he was here, that he addressed Chao as lady should be a surefire indicator that something was up. Well, that, and the fact that he might be the first person to knock rather than just throwing the unfortunate door inwards. If doors could celebrate, this one certainly was doing just that.

prettysoft · Nov 22, 2022

The annual bear hunt ended with Chao escaping a harrowing, bloody death. However grateful for the commandant’s rescue service - Chao preferred to ponder over her own actions that night. Saving Zhaoyang, lowering her defenses to allow the woman inside. The chi cycling, cohabitating in each other’s arms without words was burned behind her eyelids every time she closed them. The unsuspecting events that bound the golden mantis to a cunning wolf and left her licking her mandibles was like a steamy fever dream. She pursued Zhaoyang all the way to the Shen estate, to the doomed castle of her undoing. When they returned to the castle, they were under heavy scrutiny by the Shen estate staff. Although no one dared question the whereabouts of the commandment, and she was left to her own devices and official business. The nosey servants and over-powdered courtesans bombarded Chao with accusatory comments as soon as she set foot in the neiyuan, but she was silent; analyzing Zhaoyang’s last moments with her.

All was said and done, and Chao wanted nothing more than to burrow into one of those newly unveiled piles of spring leaves. Her work was far from over. Servants and courtesans were simply instruments to be tuned and played like the gullible souls they were. There was an entire outer court to manipulate; valuable sources to dispense and gain information.

『 A day after 』

“What did you do to Lord Zhaoyang?” Hu-er emerged from the shame and despair of her mental prison at last, to receive the real details about the bear, and the cave. Zhaoyang was all too reclusive, too isolated and above everyone else to share a hint. Everyone was dying to know what all transpired, and maybe Han Shu delegated Hu-er to quietly investigate why Chao and Zhaoyang separated from the man servant and her husband?

Don’t kick up a fuss this time, Hu-er. Kaixuan can not know you are meddling.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the question you should be asking is what haven’t I done to the commandant?” The haughty and arrogant Chao laid on her side; holding a pillow close to her bosom. A teal and seafoam green outer robe draped over her shoulders and belted by a sky blue sash; mallard and lighter blues illustrating a lake and the sky. The bath of rice and lotus petals reinvigorated her and left her skin pampered after seeking shelter from the cold rain. She returned to business as usual; rallied up the girls and boys with the biggest mouths to sit and chat with hot jasmine tea to warm their fingertips. Each and every woman or man she summoned would gladly feed each other to the bears before openly admitting betrayal - precisely why Chao invited them down to the forbidden pantry hidden in plain view. The courtesan’s miniature and extravagantly decorated errfang entertained a handful of her acquaintances, but only a handful. There wasn’t enough room for more than four or five bodies in her room, and she couldn’t stand any of these people. Hu-er, she tolerated due to her earlier kindness and embarrassment when relaying the unfortunate news about the captain's corpse.

“How inelegant of you, Chao.” Jia’s fingertips were dipped in red oil, tracing and circling her porcelain saucer. “You know what they are saying about you.” Such beautiful porcelain, Jia gazed into her tea cup and strangely reminisced on holding the same cup once before. They were identical to a set that went missing from the cupboard years ago, but that was before Chao’s arrival. She couldn’t blame her, though it was easy to point the finger at the courtesan.

“Why?” Chao pulled one knee up to her chest, the other dainty limb laying slack over the edge of her bed.

Whispering gossip and being the topic of discussion was as sure as the sun rising over the Qingyun mountains, but the only thing more absolute was Kaixuan calling upon her. She delighted in the controversy, though her reserved nature concealed that fact from the others. That didn’t stop the rumors. The servants and courtesans conveyed interest and apprehension at what Chao said next. “We were cold. We were wet.”

“...Zhaoyang would never.” Huo, an official courier for the Shen estate was off-duty for the evening and wandered over to Chao’s room with Jia. Good humored and well-mannered, except when referring to matters dealing with Zhaoyang and Kaixuan. He was lean like a village cat, and had long hair with an out of control cow-lick. “Besides, they are calling you a cursed woman. They may find you tonight and turn you loose i-”

A rap on the misused door set everyone on alert, especially Chao, whose lilac and gray irises swirled with worry and anger seconds before her gaze darted to the doorway. If the pillow she was clutching in her arms were a person, then it would have turned blue in the face from her vice-like grip. “I am here, it is she.” Her plan to seduce the court and sow seeds of jealousy were in its beginning stages, but Hu-er and Jia appeared to believe Chao’s story. Hu-er and Huo exchanged glances, both taken aback and caught off guard by the newly appointed lady.

If Huiling’s assignment was to worry and stress Chao then mission accomplished. Her group assembly effectively ended, with Jia, Huo, and Hu-er sneaking out the sliding door, though Huiling witnessed them leaving with his two good eyes. He didn’t seem all that invested in chasing them down or turning them in to their superiors. He paid mind to one thing only.

"Come with me."

Chao nodded her assent to the servant, and locked her gaze ahead, though questions floated through her mind. Vibrant, flowing robes swept over the shiny wood floors with every step down the corridor. Chao’s kohl painted brows pinched in pure confusion, and she chewed the inside of her lip.

Have I finally crossed the line?

Do they know what I have done?

Is this a trap?

“Huiling, h-have I done something to excite General Wencheng?” Chao suppressed her nerves and bottled them up, locking them away for her diary later. If she lived to document what happened next, then she would celebrate with a stolen bottle of wine. If… An elegant facade covered the uneasy sense creeping up her spine. No one called her lady, or tapped on her door before entering. The basic decency left her reeling, spinning, and without a clue. “I only mean, I am astonished that they asked you away from your hard work to fetch me.” She walked the rest of the way with her head held high. A zoulang three times the size of her errfang led to a staircase bordered by a calming waterfall and pond. She touched her palms together in her floor length sleeves ; pausing in front of the circular screen door.

Huiling's familiarity with the environment was evident in the simple way he walked up to the door, pulling it back in a way that suggested caring. He may have dusted these doors everyday for the past thirty years of his life, but this was enemy territory.

ƒeral · Nov 27, 2022

It went without saying that the Master Wing was the most grandiose of all. Thrice-floored, the main house loomed forbiddingly over the courtyard, the entrance alone wide enough to allow eight men to walk side by side without their shoulders brushing. With the onset of spring, the koi pond splished and splashed with the awakened fish, blots of color rejoicing amidst emerald green. An aged but well-maintained walkway lined one side of the immense pond, decorated by polished stones and artisan-crafted statutes. The spirit screen was notable in design, tall and elaborate, dead-center in the entire wing. But whether that meant its inhabitant was particularly superstitious, or just had an eye for traditional Chinese architecture, it remained to be seen.

Unlike the East Wing, the Master Wing was relatively sparsely furnished. The wall murals depicted artistic renditions of warriors and warfare. An abundance of potted perennials being just about the only decor. Oh, and mounted suits of armor, halberds, bows, swords, armaments that glared from every random corner. The place, without a doubt, lacked a woman’s touch. But perhaps that wouldn’t surprise, given that although it wasn’t often talked about, it was also no secret that General Wencheng is a widower.

“Father, that is entirely unnecessary-”

Conversation ceased abruptly as Huiliang crossed the threshold into the main study, with that woman in tow. The two Shens were seated opposite a go table, the number of pieces on the board suggesting that the game had been underway for quite some time. The General’s position faced the door, and he gave Huiliang a cursory nod, before those eagle-like eyes fixed upon Chao. There was no malice there, nor any of Kaixuan’s lascivious intent, but interest nevertheless. He scrutinized Chao for whatever reason, but kept his thoughts close to himself. Like father, like daughter, they said.

Well, not entirely alike, because unlike the calm and cool General, Zhaoyang positively bristled. Her chair squeaked as she half-turned to glare past Huiliang at Chao, lips thinning into a terse line. Why? Who knows. It wasn’t as if she ever needed a reason to be her despotic self. In stark contrast with the vibrant colors Chao favored, Zhaoyang wore a robe of deep umbre, dark enough to be nearly black. The series of belts defining her waist were a shade darker, studded with bronze. The only dash of a bolder color, as per usual, were those red ribbons she favored her hair with. Actually, if not for the intricate carving of her hair ornament and the bronze stitching of her robe, it would be nearly impossible to tell her apart from one of her shadows, judging based on clothing, anyway. She scowled at Chao, before looking back at the game board to complete her turn.

General Wencheng, on the other hand, seemed to be much more interested in the newcomer than his game with his daughter. That indecipherable expression broke into a hint of a smile, before he waved a hand. “Glad you are able to join us, have a seat.” A seat would be brought for Chao, a few paces away from the go table. “Tea?” He scarcely waited for a response to the pleasantry, before barreling along. “Song Chao, yes? I’ve heard quite the tale about you during the recent Bear Hunt. In fact, Yang-er reports that you are responsible for her promising recovery.” At the nickname, Zhaoyang’s scowl only deepened, and she shot a warning glare at the innocent courtesan. “As a father, I should thank you.” He paused, stroking at his beard, deliberating.

“Father, as I have suggested, a few bolts of silk, an award of yuanbao, and, if you are so inclined, uplift her station - that should be more than sufficient.” Zhaoyang cut in. Despite her clipped tone, the implication was hard to miss. She had been the one to suggest a reward. The goods and money were one thing, but the last item was eyebrow raising. Wei, at least when compared to its neighbors, could boast of being more advanced in its social hierarchy. That being said, feudal societies were only so progressive. One’s lot in life was oft determined at birth. For a farmer’s son to become, say, an artisan, required either the utmost of fortune or talent. Earlier, Zhaoyang had suggested the position of a physician, which, albeit not being particularly high ranked, was still leaps and bounds more revered than courtesan.

Wencheng, in contrast with his sternness holding court, seemed almost…amused. “That is certainly a thought, though we don’t have any particular shortages for physicians at the present,” he stroked his beard some more, returning Zhaoyang’s frown with a smile of his own. “On the other hand, Yang-er, it has been some time since you have taken a lady-in-waiting, hasn’t it?” “I have absolutely no need-” “Nonsense, we can’t have you grinding your own ink,” Wencheng paused, before redirecting his attention to the candidate in question. “Ah, but I suppose I should ask you. I have many things, but only one daughter. Since it appears that you have done me a great service with getting my reckless offspring back here in one piece, I would like to reward you.” He sipped at his own tea, before playing a piece down, demonstrating ample ability to multitask. “What reward would you request of me, Song Chao?”

𝔗𝔥𝔢 ℌ𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔥𝔢𝔫「 红颜祸水 & 锐不可挡 」|| ƒᴇʀᴀʟ x ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏsᴏғᴛ

𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓭 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕧𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕤

❤︎❤︎

𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓭 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕧𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕤

❤︎❤︎

𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓭 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕧𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕤

❤︎❤︎

𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓭 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕧𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕤

❤︎❤︎

𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓭 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕧𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕤

❤︎❤︎

𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓭 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕧𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕤

❤︎❤︎

𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓭 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕧𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕤

❤︎❤︎

𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓭 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕧𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕤

❤︎❤︎

𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓭 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕧𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕤

❤︎❤︎

𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓭 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕧𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕤

❤︎❤︎

𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓭 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕧𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕤

❤︎❤︎

𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓭 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕧𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕤

❤︎❤︎

𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓭 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕧𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕤

𝔗𝔥𝔢 ℌ𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔥𝔢𝔫「红颜祸水 & 锐不可挡」|| ƒᴇʀᴀʟ x ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏsᴏғᴛ