Chapter Seven: A Different Xuan

The anxious night finally drew to a close. After settling the children, Xuan stepped into the inner chamber.

Kaiming was leaning against the wall, eyes wide and fixed upon him.

Xuan chuckled. “I’m not a tiger. Why are you looking at me like that?”

He watched as Xuan took off his shoes and climbed into bed. Stiff with tension, Kaiming blurted, “Don’t come up!” Xuan glanced at her, puzzled. Realizing her slip, she quickly added, “Well, my injury isn’t healed yet, so…”

“Someone with an injury went off to join the army,” Xuan remarked coolly, his expression less than pleasant.

“I told you, I was forced—”

“It’s late. Best get some rest so you can rise early.” Xuan cut her off, blowing out the bedside oil lamp.

Kaiming froze, uncertain whether to lie down or make an escape. She didn't know what to do. The bedding shifted as Xuan’s hand reached out and settled gently on the back of hers, making her yelp in surprise.

“The children and Xiaowan are asleep. Don’t wake them. Lie down. Let’s have a quiet chat.”

So it was just a chat, after all! Kaiming felt relieved, though a strange sense of disappointment lingered. Was she, the Yaksha Lady, so devoid of charm?

She hurriedly folded a few clothes into a makeshift pillow and scooted closer to Xuan’s side. He eyed her improvised cushion, and she explained, “Your wooden pillow is uncomfortable. It gives me a crick in the neck. What if I end up sleeping askew?”

In the darkness, Xuan’s eyes glimmered like two fireflies, black and white in sharp contrast.

“Kaiming, you’ve really changed,” he said softly.

“People change,” Kaiming replied with a dry laugh.

“It’s not just your clothes, your food, your habits. Even your temperament seems entirely different.”

“Mm.”

“My ideal wife is just like you are now.”

Kaiming was stunned for a moment. Brother, you married the Yaksha Lady, not the person I am now.

“You used to have a terrible temper. I endured it for the children’s sake. They need their mother. But just as you started to change, you’re leaving again…” He sighed.

Kaiming said nothing. You can’t expect me to stay as a lifelong nanny! The longer I remain, the more complicated things will become. Best to cut it short.

“Soldiering is no simple task,” Xuan said abruptly. “Are you prepared for it?”

The sudden change of topic left her a bit lost.

“In any battle, the lowest-ranking soldiers are always the first to charge. The general’s glory is built upon mountains of their corpses.” Was she mistaken, or did a cold smile just flicker across Xuan’s usually gentle face?

“Come back alive! Remember, nothing is more important than your life!” His eyes shone with a light she’d never seen in him before. “Staying alive is what matters most!”

Kaiming was dazed. Xuan seemed like someone who had truly seen the battlefield; even a few words from him carried weight.

He gazed at the ceiling, murmuring, “This time, perhaps I’ll see her.”

“What?” Kaiming leaned in, but didn’t catch his words.

“I wonder if your squad will be under her command.”

“Who?” Kaiming asked impatiently.

He looked at her face, so close, a skeptical glint in his eyes. Smiling, he said, “No one. You probably won’t have that kind of luck.”

“What are you saying?” Kaiming frowned. This man was cryptic as ever, never saying what he meant. Xuan’s hand slipped behind her neck, gently pressing her down. Off balance, she stumbled onto him, and in that instant, his lips sealed hers.

Kaiming’s mind went blank with a rush of blood. She’d been dreading this—after all, the Yaksha Lady was Xuan’s wife, and this was only natural between a married couple. The problem was, Xuan was kissing her, Kaiming, not his wife.

After three or four years of sleeping apart from her husband, being kissed by a strange man left her utterly flustered. Instinctively, she pushed him away. Xuan released her lips, but with a swift movement, pinned her beneath him.

“Wait! Hold on…” She’d never known the scholarly Xuan possessed such strength, nothing less than the Yaksha herself. Was his usual meekness just an act?

Her fingers were caught, Xuan’s body heavy as a stone, making her breathless.

“This time, let me be on top,” he whispered into her ear.

On top! Kaiming’s mind was struck dumb. Good heavens, what was he saying!

“Wait…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”

“No, that’s not…”

“It’s been days since we were together. You’ve grown cold.”

“No! I’m not…” she blurted out in her panic.

“You’re not what?” Xuan’s gaze was unexpectedly cold.

Kaiming grew nervous. Tonight’s Xuan was nothing like his usual timid self. Something felt off. She stammered, “It’s just… don’t rush. Let’s take our time…”

He stared at her for a long moment, so close she could hardly breathe—not to mention, he was heavy!

Suddenly, Xuan let her go, his usual gentle smile returning. “I’ll listen to you, my dear wife.”

He emphasized “my dear wife,” sending chills down Kaiming’s spine. Had he discovered something? Luckily, she’d be leaving tomorrow; staying any longer would be unbearable.

“Are you afraid of me, Kaiming?” He noticed her inch away and couldn’t help but smile.

It was still the same gentle face, but suddenly she couldn’t read him at all.

“Who’s afraid of whom?”

“When we kissed just now, we both seemed to feel something…”

“Don’t talk nonsense!”

“Kaiming…”

“What?”

“You’re blushing…”

“Shut up!”

Xuan suddenly burst out laughing, collapsing onto the mat with mirth. “There’s something to be said for a simple-hearted woman. She’s like this, and so are you…” He cut himself off, lifting his head to look at her.

Kaiming looked back, confused.

“Kaiming.” His gentle voice was especially grating tonight.

“What?” she snapped.

“You’re not ugly at all.”

His body slid down, nearly making her topple. What nonsense was he spouting? Was he drunk? She wasn’t ugly—if the Yaksha Lady didn’t dress so strangely, she’d be above average.

Seeing her astonished look, Xuan gave another awkward laugh.

“What’s with you tonight?” Kaiming asked curiously.

The laughter faded, and Xuan slowly straightened, leaning against the wall and gazing at the night sky through the cracks.

“Perhaps it’s because you’re leaving tomorrow.”

What did that have to do with anything? She inwardly scoffed at his excuse-making.

“Maybe you belong on the battlefield. Who knows…” A pensive expression settled on Xuan’s face as the faint light shone through, illuminating half his features in the darkness—pale lashes, high-bridged nose, and thoughtful, clear eyes, revealing a striking, enigmatic beauty.

Kaiming’s heart skipped. She was actually stunned by her own husband’s looks. No wonder anyone who walked into a professional studio looked like a star—it was all about the lighting.

She mumbled to herself, but Xuan’s soft voice drifted into her ears.

“When the Year’s Shadow stands at noon, the Year Star is at the Rooster’s position in the Pleiades, rising with the dawn—that’s called ‘Kaiming’.”

“Did you just call my name?” she asked, surprised.

“It’s the name of a constellation,” he murmured, gazing at the sky. “When Kaiming appears, war comes to an end.”

“You’re quite the astrologer now,” Kaiming muttered. All this talk of stars—she could hardly keep track.

“All I can say is, your name is quite a coincidence; it matches a constellation here.” There was a subtle, almost imperceptible smile on his lips. “Perhaps you’ll be lucky.”

My luck is being inexplicably brought to this bizarre place, she thought sullenly, tightening the bundle of the Yaksha Lady’s belongings and slinging it over her shoulder.

Dawn had already broken. After a restless, truncated night, she’d only managed a little sleep in the early morning. When she opened her eyes, Xuan was already gone.

He really was elusive—had he mastered the art of moving without a sound?

Chunhua arrived early, peeking into the house.

“He’s not here—he’s gone out,” Kaiming said, glancing at her as she busied herself.

“I’m not looking for him,” Chunhua said, taking a seat. “Kaiming, Brother Xuan is so heartless—he won’t even see you off.”

Better that way, she thought. The memory of last night’s kiss flashed through her mind, and she shook her head to banish the image.

The two children woke, blinking at her. Kaiming went to stroke their heads, smiling. “Mama has to go away for a while, but I’ll be back soon. Be good, will you?”

The children nodded, half-understanding.

“Let’s go!” she said, leaving with Chunhua, a faint sense of heroism swelling in her chest—like a warrior embarking on a journey of no return. The feeling was quickly extinguished, though, as she stepped outside into the brilliant sunlight. There, by the door, stood a smiling figure, as vivid and striking as a painting, shattering her resolve.

“Brother Xuan!” Chunhua cried out in delight, snapping Kaiming from her daze.

It was Xuan indeed—what was he doing here?

He endured Chunhua’s enthusiastic embrace, awkwardly peeling her fingers away, then walked over to Kaiming.

“This is for you.” He reached out and hung a thin red cord around her neck.

“What is it?” Kaiming examined the object. Dangling from the red string was a half-pendant, neither quite red nor green, like jade, yet not quite.

“A protective charm.” Xuan smiled at her. “I went to the temple early this morning to get it for you. Don’t take it off, understand?”

“I understand.” She studied the strange thing. What kind of temple gave out such odd amulets? Weren’t they usually paper talismans?

“All right, time to go.” Kaiming looked at Xuan. In daylight, he seemed just like the friendly boy next door. Which was the real him?

As she passed him, her arm was gently squeezed. Xuan turned, and before everyone—including Chunhua—opened his arms and embraced her.

All she could see were Chunhua’s wide-eyed, astonished face, swaying back and forth. Kaiming’s mouth hung open—she could hardly breathe! What was Xuan up to now?

His voice slipped into her ear, barely more than a whisper, “Come back alive. Whatever happens, your life comes first.”