2. Chapter 2

One year prior:

“You want me to what ?” Meng Zhi sits very still, trying not to drop his tea.

“You are aware that the Emperor tightly controls who has access to the court, and the nobility. The housing restrictions alone would have me camping outside the walls of Jinling indefinitely.” Mei Changsu sighs. “How ironic that when I really need one of the City Planning ministers to be susceptible to bribes, they are all to a man devoted to proper zoning.”

“Ironic. Yes.” Meng Zhi gently places the delicate cup back down on the table, despite his shaking hands. He’s been in actual, bloody battles that were less terrifying than this. “But I don’t—”

“Marrying the commander of the Imperial Guards would automatically grant me entrance to the elite of the city, and from there I can finagle my way into court. Your connection to Jingyan will help tremendously as well. That combined with your perceived neutrality in court politics makes you an ideal candidate for me.”

Meng Zhi nods, then shakes his head. “No, I don’t think it is right. First off, we are not, ah, like that. Secondly, my role is by its very nature divorced from political machinations. I protect the Emperor and the royal family, nothing more. Wouldn’t it be better to tie yourself to a court insider? I think Xiao Jingrui—”

“No,” Mei Changsu snaps, slamming his own cup down hard enough to break it.

Unused to the blatant show of temper, Meng Zhi pauses, but he knows he’s right about this. “Xiao Shu, the boy adores you, and I know you care for him. It would be a lovely match and accomplish—”

“I said no and forbid you to bring that suggestion up again.”

Meng Zhi waits to be dismissed, but Mei Changsu simply closes his eyes and breathes in deeply for a moment. When he opens them again, he looks at Meng Zhi with pity, which is actually worse.

“I know you have been faithful to the memories of your wife and son, and I know that asking this of you is unfair, as it traps you in a political marriage to me indefinitely. But you are the only valid choice I have in this matter. I need you to trust me on that. Please, I need your help, Meng-dage.”

As if it was ever in doubt, when Mei Changsu uses an endearment such as that.

---

Their entrance to the city is overshadowed by the news of Princess Nihuang’s betrothal competition. They are overtaken at the gates by the magnificent general herself, and Meng Zhi firmly reminds himself that he has no reason to be jealous of Xiao Su’s former fiance and great love, because he, himself, has no real claim on Mei Changsu’s affections. Anyway, he vividly remembers how the two used to look at each other, star struck with awe and joy at being granted their own marriage contract. They were the greatest love story of Jinling, back in innocent days.

Meng Zhi scolds himself with the reminder that his marriage to Mei Changsu is an artifice. In the end, he is just a commoner who clawed his way up to commander of the Imperial Guards, and he cannot compete with the famous General Mu, Princess of Yunnan. If Mei Changsu chooses to reveal his true identity to Nihuang, there is no way she will not pursue him. Meng Zhi cannot even blame her for grasping at that happiness again. He would, if that door were open to him.

Mei Changsu hides in the carriage with Fei Liu while Yujin and Jingrui spar with the general. It isn’t until the friendly joust ends that she waves to Meng Zhi.

“Meng-dage!” She chimes in a voice so similar to the one she had when she was a child that he has to blink away the vision of her as she was then, small and fierce and boisterous. Such a perfect match for Lin Shu, even then.

“General Mu,” he says formally with a bow, although he is smiling broadly because he cannot help himself. She is a good person and it is always a relief to see her hale and healthy.

“I hear you were married before me!”

“Ha! Indeed. Had I known it was a race I still would not have bet on you, however.”

She laughs. “Is this your bride?” She gestures at the carriage.

“It is indeed. Unfortunately—” He is stopped from making excuses for not introducing them by the curtain being pulled back. Meng Zhi sucks in a breath when, once again, he confronted with the ethereal beauty of his beloved. Nihuang gives him a sly smirk at that he pointedly ignores.

“I am Mei Changsu, recently of the house of Meng, your highness. It is an honor to meet the great general of Yunnan.” He bows gently from his place amidst a pile of blankets and furs.

Nihuang is taken aback — by his beauty, or by the clear signs of his ill health, it is impossible to say. “The honor is mine, Sir Mei.” She returns his bow.

Another head pokes out from behind Mei Changsu, eyeing Nihuang with great suspicion.

“Our son, Fei Liu!” Men Zhi gestures proudly, delighted to say such words. It still tugs at his heart to claim a new son — a son! — but he could never deny how he feels about it.

Mei Changsu’s face flits through a series of expressions, and it occurs to Meng Zhi that this is the very first time he has introduced Fei Liu as his son. He wonders if he hasn’t fucked up already, but then Mei Changsu smiles at him gratefully.

“Indeed. Our son, Fei Liu.” Mei Changsu forcefully tugs the boy out from behind him. “He is not very social and says few words, but it is our honor to introduce you to him.”

“Hmph.” Fei Liu gives her a clumsy bow then dives back behind his father, who sighs heavily.

Nihuang laughs again, but kindly. “I understand the ways of shy boys,” she says loudly, and her brother yelps at her from where he’s been chatting with Yujin. From there it is polite social small talk, which Meng Zhi hates but has cultivated as carefully as his martial arts skills through the years. He is hopeless at politics and intrigue but one cannot work anywhere near the palace without knowing how to grease the wheels of correct conduct. He has seen many a talented military career done in by careless speech and impropriety.

Later, when they are settled for dinner at Meng Zhi’s old household — he has not yet shown the new manor to Mei Changsu, and wants to do it when they are fresh and it is light out — he decides to attempt a direct approach. He has found, hilariously, that those are the ones Mei Changsu seems the most unprepared to counter.

“You did not need to pull the curtain back today,” he says. “I would have protected you from that heartache for as long as I could, if you had let me.”

Mei Changsu, who at least still has Lin Shu’s battle honed instincts, pauses with his chopsticks hovering over his plate, visibly bracing himself.

“I know your feelings for the princess, Xiao Su.”

“Do you?” He picks at his food, intently staring at it and not Meng Zhi.

“Everyone does. I mean, they did, when you were children. Your love for each other was obvious to all of us. Such love...I know that does not fade.”

Mei Changsu finally looks up at him, his eyes dark, his mouth a grim, tight line. “Are we talking about the princess, or your wife?”

So indeed, he’s still skilled at counter attacks too. Meng Zhi huffs out a resigned breath. “If you wish to pick up with her again, I would not stand in your way. Surely you know this.”

“I do.” He sets his chopsticks down with a rattle. “But it would endanger her reputation as well as yours. It would be risking all of my plans for the sake of an old attachment that cannot be allowed to exist.”

“Ah. Good point. I am sorry.” He’s also sorry for ruining their dinner, as Mei Changsu has gone tense and cold. “I only mean to say that...that...oh hell, I don’t know.” He throws his hands up in frustration.

Mei Changsu softens a bit and gives him a wry smile. “I felt it was better to rip the bandage off quickly, in this case. I would have met her eventually, especially if you can get me an invitation to attend the competitions for her hand. I assure you, my feelings for her are a distant memory to me now. Perhaps hers for Lin Shu have not have faded, but he is a dead man. Here, today, I am but your husband and help-meet.”

Meng Zhi hates more than anything when Xaio Shu talks of himself in such a way, but no argument has ever dissuaded him from his belief that he is a walking corpse, and in no way does Meng Zhi believe the bullshit about how his feelings for the great, beautiful general have faded. But he smiles instead, and asks his dearest what his plans are for throwing the matches.