Riding the Long Wind – Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Liu Yuru was jolted awake by the crowing of a rooster.

When she opened her eyes, it was already morning. The sun had just risen, its light falling gently into the room. Her maidservant Yin Hong came in carrying freshly picked balsam flowers from the courtyard, arranged them into a vase, and looked over at Liu Yuru with a smile. “You are awake, miss?”

Liu Yuru drew a slow breath and did not answer. Her mind was still full of that pair of desperate, anguished eyes. Yin Hong frowned and came to stand before her, unable to help herself: “Miss, did you have a nightmare?”

Yin Hong’s voice brought her slowly back to herself. When she had gathered her thoughts, she pressed a hand lightly to her own forehead and let out a sigh. “Yes. A bad dream.”

Not just a bad dream, either. A deeply strange one.

She had dreamed of Gu Jiusi, a man she had never once exchanged a word with. And she had dreamed of Prince Liang’s rebellion, of the realm thrown into chaos.

Everyone knew that Prince Liang was the most loyal of the realm’s kings with a different surname from the imperial house. He commanded vast armies and had pulled the Emperor back from the brink of disaster more than once. To put the Emperor’s mind at ease, he had even sent his entire family to live in the Eastern Capital as hostages. If he had ever intended to rebel, he would have done it long ago. Why wait until now?

The military governor of Youzhou she knew was surnamed Zhao, not Fan Xuan, as the man in her dream had been called.

And Gu Jiusi and Wang Rong — their two families had always been on good terms. She had never heard of any particular dealings between Wang Rong and Gu Jiusi, but they were certainly not enemies. Where had this story of Gu Jiusi breaking Wang Rong’s leg come from?

When she turned it all over in her mind, Liu Yuru found herself almost amused. She had let herself be frightened by a dream.

Though why she had dreamed of Gu Jiusi at all was a question she could not answer.

She supposed she was simply strange that way.

In truth, she and Gu Jiusi had no connection whatsoever. Gu Jiusi was the legitimate son of the wealthiest and most powerful household in all of Yangzhou. She was nothing more than an unloved legitimate daughter of a modest cloth merchant’s family. The only reason she knew of him at all was that this particular young master made noise wherever he went, and word of his exploits reached every corner of the city without effort.

Today she heard he had thrown a fortune at the Spring Wind House just to make the top courtesan smile. Tomorrow she heard he had gambled ten thousand taels of silver at the gaming house and lost it all in a single night. Occasionally, when she was out at the market, she would catch sight of Gu Jiusi in person. He was impossible to miss: always dressed in white, folding fan in hand, a birdcage dangling from his fingers, that handsome face of his lit up with a self-satisfied grin, arrogance and disdain written plainly in the tilt of his brows.

When someone looked that good and made that much of a spectacle of himself, it was impossible not to recognize him.

She did not know whether Gu Jiusi recognized her in return. She thought perhaps he did, since she had something of a reputation in Yangzhou herself. Though it was not the kind of reputation anyone would wish for. Simply put, she was known as: notoriously difficult to marry off.

Her family occupied a modest place among Yangzhou’s merchant class, dealing in silk and cloth. Her father, Liu Xuan, was by nature a man of wandering affections. Her mother, Su Wan, had been given to him through a match arranged by their parents, and though she held the title of principal wife, she had never held his heart. Her health was poor besides, and over all these years she had produced only one child: Liu Yuru. The concubine Zhang Yue’er, by contrast, had given Liu Xuan two sons and a daughter.

Having no son was the greatest failing a woman could carry in this age. And so, though Su Wan was the principal wife, it was Zhang Yue’er who ran the household, leaving Su Wan with a title and no real authority, living a life that could not be called comfortable by any measure. The whole of Yangzhou knew that Liu Xuan favored his concubine and neglected his wife, and everyone pitied Su Wan and Liu Yuru accordingly.

Growing up in such an environment, Liu Yuru had learned early to keep herself in line. She read the room, knew when to step forward and when to step back, and made sure she was on good terms with everyone around her. She never did anything that crossed a line. She had shaped herself into a model of what a well-bred young woman ought to be, all with one clear purpose in mind: to find a steady, reliable man, marry into a respectable household with her dignity intact, and live out her days in quiet stability. That was the sum total of her plan for this life.

She was the kind of person who, once she set a goal, pursued it with focus and discipline. And she had decided long ago who she wanted to marry: Ye Shi’an, the eldest son of the Ye family.

The Ye family was not merchant stock like her own. They were gentry, an educated family of standing. They had lived directly across the street from the Liu family for years, which made them, in a sense, a suitable match. Liu Yuru was close friends with the Ye family’s eldest daughter, Ye Yun, and visited their home often. She had noticed early on that the family’s values were sound, that they did not look down on people for their wealth or lack of it, and that the old grandmother of the family had taken a liking to her. As for Ye Shi’an himself, she had met him a handful of times before he left for the White Egret Academy. He had been young then, and she could not judge much from his looks, but his face was decent enough. He was quiet, but solid and dependable in his manner. Even as a child he had been the best student among all the young scholars in the neighborhood, and he seemed likely to earn himself an official title someday. He was a good person, and his family was a good family. Marrying into it would go a long way toward satisfying her one great wish: a quiet, stable life.

To get there, she had spent years visiting the Ye household under the pretext of seeing Ye Yun, and had made a point of helping Ye Yun look after the old grandmother, keeping her company and keeping her spirits up. Seven or eight years of this had made the old woman genuinely fond of her. Better, the grandmother had reasoned, to let her grandson marry a girl she knew through and through, one who was warm and attentive, than to take a chance on some stranger.

So it was that at Liu Yuru’s coming-of-age ceremony just days ago, the old grandmother had come in person as a guest of honor, and had drawn her aside to say quietly: “In a little while, I will come speak to your parents separately.”

She had understood at once what those words meant, and had been waiting ever since.

She waited until that very morning, when she had splashed water on her face and was pulling herself free of the dream’s lingering fog, and Yin Hong came rushing in with shining eyes: “Miss! Old Madam Ye is here!”

Liu Yuru’s heart leapt.

She wanted very much to go to the front hall and hear what was being said, but it would not be proper for a young woman of her position to go uninvited. She waited as patiently as she could, and eventually a servant came to summon her. She had already washed and dressed. She drew a long breath, and followed the servant to the front hall.

Three people were seated inside. Old Madam Ye sat in the place of honor on the left. Her father, Liu Xuan, sat to the right. And Zhang Yue’er, all smiles, had taken the seat nearest to Liu Xuan and was chatting pleasantly with Old Madam Ye.

Liu Yuru paused for just a fraction of a second, then quickly dropped her gaze, hiding the flicker of displeasure that had crossed her face.

Old Madam Ye noticed her enter and brightened immediately. “Come, come, Yuru, come sit and talk with me.”

Liu Yuru smiled at the old woman, but still performed a proper bow of greeting before accepting her father’s nod of approval and taking a seat beside Old Madam Ye. The old woman took her hand and smiled warmly. “Yuru, you are truly the most well-mannered girl I have ever met. I used to think to myself: the Liu family must have exceptional values to raise a daughter like this. If only a girl like this could be my granddaughter, how wonderful that would be.”

“Old Madam, you flatter us,” Liu Xuan said, pouring tea for the guest with a smile. “Whatever good there is in Yuru, it is your influence. Growing up near a family of scholars, she has absorbed a little of that refinement herself.”

After a round of cordial pleasantries, Liu Xuan cleared his throat and got to the point, speaking to Liu Yuru directly. “Yuru, Old Madam Ye has come today to discuss your marriage. She hopes that you and the eldest son of the Ye family might be joined together. We have called you here to ask what you think.”

Liu Yuru pressed down the urge to say yes on the spot, and answered with quiet composure: “Yuru will follow whatever Father and Mother decide.”

Everyone smiled. Liu Xuan said: “Then it is settled. Although the young master seems to be sitting for the provincial examinations at the moment, so it may be some time before a formal proposal can be made.”

He paused, and his expression took on a faintly worried cast. “I have heard that the Gu family’s eldest son has also come of age, and his mother has been looking around on his behalf. She paid a visit to the Liu household just recently. Old Madam,” he turned to face her, “we should not wait too long.”

Everyone present understood what Liu Xuan meant. Gu Jiusi was the most feared young man in Yangzhou, but his family was powerful, and his parents naturally wanted the finest girl in the city for their son. The trouble was that any girl worth having in Yangzhou wanted nothing to do with him. The real danger was that, failing to get the best, he might set his sights on someone like Liu Yuru: a girl who stood out on her own merits but whose family was ordinary enough that they could be pressured into agreeing even if they did not wish to.

That said, since Gu Jiusi had gone to the Liu household rather than the Liu Yuru’s own family, it seemed unlikely he would come knocking at their door. Liu Siyu’s background was a step above Liu Yuru’s. Liu Xuan was probably just saying it to make his daughter feel better about herself.

But Liu Yuru, hearing the word “Liu household,” looked up involuntarily, a small unease stirring in her chest. Liu Siyu was her closest friend. Gu Jiusi had gone to her family?

She kept her expression still and made a mental note to go see Liu Siyu soon.

Old Madam Ye, for her part, did not think too deeply about Liu Xuan’s words. She simply nodded and said: “Do not worry. The moment the examinations are finished, I will have my son bring Shi’an to call on you formally.”

“Perhaps Master Ye could come first to make the initial proposal?” Zhang Yue’er cut in at the right moment. “This is a matter between the elders, after all. Whether the young master is present or not makes little difference. Better to settle it now and avoid any complications later.”

“That may be difficult,” Old Madam Ye said, shaking her head. “My son has gone to congratulate a friend who has just been appointed military governor of Youzhou, and has not yet returned.”

At the words “military governor of Youzhou,” Liu Yuru heard herself say, almost without thinking: “Is his surname Fan?”

Everyone looked at her.

Liu Yuru blinked, startled by her own voice. She was not entirely sure why she had said it. The dream had left her unsettled all morning, and the words had slipped out before she could stop them. But it was said now, and it was not so unusual a question. She softened her voice deliberately and played at innocent curiosity: “The new military governor of Youzhou, is his name Fan Xuan?”

“How did you know that?” Old Madam Ye asked, visibly surprised.

Liu Yuru felt as though she had been struck. Her heart lurched violently, though nothing showed on her face. She answered lightly: “A friend mentioned it. I was not sure I believed it. An appointment like military governor is not the sort of thing that changes so easily.”

“So it seems,” Old Madam Ye said with a smile. “But Fan Xuan has served in Youzhou for thirteen years. His roots there run deep. When the previous governor died of illness, he recommended Fan Xuan with his dying breath. That is how he came to hold the post.”

Liu Xuan nodded slowly, murmuring something about the strange turns a person’s life could take.

The marriage discussion wound down not long after, and Old Madam Ye stayed for a short while longer before rising to leave.

Once she was gone, Liu Yuru returned to her room, dismissed Yin Hong, and let the composure she had been holding onto all morning come apart.

She went to her writing desk and began writing down everything she could remember from the dream, quickly and without stopping.

Fan Xuan. Military governor of Youzhou.

Gu Jiusi. Wang Rong.

Prince Liang.

She wrote it all out and stared at the words on the page. In her mind, she saw Gu Jiusi’s eyes again.

Save me.

She closed her eyes slowly.

Fan Xuan. Was it a coincidence? Or had the dream been a warning?

A coincidence, she told herself firmly. It had to be. She must have heard that name somewhere before and simply forgotten. The dream had pulled it back up without her realizing.

She found every reason she could think of to convince herself of this. But when enough time had passed and she still could not settle, she stood up and said: “Go tell Concubine Zhang that I would like to visit the Liu household. Please ask for her permission.”