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rainbowfic2024-04-23 08:54 am
ilthit) wrote in rainbowfic2024-04-23 08:54 am
Chocolate-Dipped Strawberry #8, Electric Sky #1: Peony and Magpie (Lin Moniao Series)
Name: Peony and Magpie
Story: Lin Moniao Series (AO3 link)
Colors: Chocolate-Dipped Strawberry #8 (caress), Electric Sky #1 (Nectar)
Supplies and Styles: gesso, nubs; interactive art
Word Count: 4,594
Rating: explicit
Warnings: Rated for sex (dual cultivation); contains a gruesome play and competitive eating (not a double entendre).
Summary: Lin Moniao and Heng Wanxue celebrate their reunion.
Note: Co-written withminutia_r . This is a scene between the events of Chasing the Bat and Mid-Autumn Festival that ended up not being included in either. Also available on AO3 here (specific chapter link), with art (not mine but really great, recommended; the art is SFW). I decided not to call this a silhouette because the style is for "romance or growing relationship" and these two know where they are already.
*
Heng Wanxue knows how to find Wu Zhenghao's house--her master has been keeping a close and bitter eye on it ever since Huang Tianlin started to consort with the parrot cultists--but this is the first time she's been here herself. The house sits in one of the finer districts of Kaifeng, where imperial guards, as well as the bodyguards of local fancy types, are inclined to roughly move undesirables along, so it's rarely worth the risk. Wanxue has had plenty of practice sliding past guards, however, and this time it's definitely going to be worth it.
It's a little after the start of wu when she finds it. Lin Moniao is leaning in the gate, eyes scanning the streets. If he looked like a young master when she first caught sight of him with Huang Tianlin outside the inn, he looks twice as rich now, in his black robes with their bright red lining, polished boots, hair caught up in a shiny hairpiece. He doesn't seem to have spotted her yet.
She bites her lip--not nervous exactly, but--maybe a little nervous, but more excited. And she had dressed up, as much as she could between her various roommates rustling up the nice clothes they used when they had to be presentable, leading to something that might pass as respectable at first glance. She kept her green tunic, though. There was nothing wrong with her green tunic. Her hairpin is cheap fake jade and gilded tin, but Rulan had insisted it would bring her luck.
She consider sneaking up and surprising him, but instead just kicks off the streets and runs, launching herself at him and expecting him to catch.
His eyes light up as she leaps at him, but his arms are already open for her, responding even before he knows she's there. Though he staggers back a step at the impact, he catches her neatly, holding her in the air for few seconds before setting her down on her feet. "I thought I was supposed to be the bird," he laughs. "Hold on, I got you something."
He reaches into his sleeve and opens his hand. Sitting on the palm is a small ceramic figurine, a delicately sculpted, pink-glazed pig, with gilding on the tips of the ears and the tail.
She squeaks in pleasure and scoops it up, holding the pig up at face level, and gives him a side-ways glance. "It is cheating a little."
"Now you have it, in case you make any other rash promises. And when you kiss it, you can think of me."
She gives the pig a kiss and the man a nuzzle, laughing. "I love it. Where are we going?"
He takes her hand. "I was thinking we could go to Spring Pavilion."
Wanxue wraps the ceramic pig in a napkin and pockets it; with any luck, it will survive. She's always careful of her pouches.
The sky is overcast, threatening rain, but none falls as they make their way to the restaurant. It's a one-story building with seating in the courtyard that spills out into the street. A mixture of tradespeople, slightly shabby scholars, and men and women of indeterminate profession who might be members of the underworld or the jianghu are eating in this section, while indoors the tables are filled with officials, a prosperous-looking merchant couple, and a crowd of obviously drunk, wealthy young men. The kitchen is visible behind a half-wall, with pots of steaming dumplings and boiling noodles, and long spits roasting fowls over open flames, grease dripping and sputtering on the fire.
"Have I told you how handsome you look?" Wanxue asks. "You look so handsome you'll make the Weaving Girl forget all about the Shepherd Boy." She holds on to his arm, but her nose is turning towards the kitchen. She can look at him all day, but her stomach is grumbling.
"I don't believe you've told me yet today; on oversight on your part, I'm sure," he says with a grin. Despite his complacency, he clearly likes hearing it. A few heads turn towards them as they walk into the restaurant; they do have a pair of memorable faces, especially together. "Shall we sit inside or outside?"
"Outside," she says promptly, but gives the sky a worried glance. Outside means they can run if they have to; also, drunk gongzis are only good if you want to roll them, and she's taking the day off. "Why not? The weather might turn, and here I can point out all the beautiful people who pass by who aren't as beautiful as you."
"Only if you can take your eyes off the food."
"I eat with my mouth and look with my eyes. No problem! Speaking is another thing. I may have to sign."
They find a table between a man with a box of carpenter's tools, and a middle-aged woman wearing a wide-brimmed hat and carrying a heavy staff, attended by a younger woman and a younger man. Lin Moniao flags down a waiter, and soon they have a bottle of baijiu, a plate of pork buns and a bowl of noodles with fried vegetables, and a duck with crispy skin, still sizzling from the fire. He pours cups for both of them and sips his own, leaning on one elbow on the table, looking at her with an expression somewhere between fond and challenging.
Heng Wanxue is aware of how they look together, even if she is electing to ignore it, and the people over at the next table had stayed in her peripheral vision, a point of subtle anxiety. But then, there is food! So much, so good! Her mouth salivates just looking at it, and she can't help but clap her hands together and make a sound of delight. And a whole duck! She doesn't know where to start, so she closes her eyes and draws in a breath, savoring the anticipation.
But no, she's going to start with the duck, of course. She has several pieces sliced and set on her plate before she remembers Magpie. "You have some too! You're paying for it!"
He bites into a pork bun, eyes crinkling at her over the top of it. "But then I wouldn't have the pleasure of watching you eat an entire duck. Don't worry, I'll finish it if you can't. And if you can, I'll buy you another one."
"A worthy goal." She is thinking of getting a second duck, and though he means for her to eat it, how she could ask them to wrap it up and bring it to her roommates, slightly dry by then, probably, but they could steam it soft again.
Unfortunately, it turns out that even one duck is too many ducks for Heng Wanxue. Lin Moniao ends up eating the back meat and one of the wings. "A valiant effort," he says nonetheless.
A light drizzle has started falling, pattering on the canvas awning overhead, but not too troublesome yet.
"I'm so disappointed!" But her stomach is really done, and no amount of willing spirit will fit another piece in. At least she got a taste of everything on the table before she had to call it quits. She sips wine slowly to settle everything. Boldly, she adds, "I might need a moment before lovemaking."
"Oh?" He leans across the table towards her. "Well, if you would like more than a moment, when Huang-qianbei and I arrived in Kaifeng, we were traveling with some of his theatrical friends, and I promised I'd go see their performance of 'The Ghosts of Red Hill'. We could go, if you're interested."
She leans back and holds her stomach. "Yes! Perfect. You had this all planned out, didn't you, Magpie? I just thought we'd eat and find a bed. Heavens, I didn't even bring a present. Is it very gruesome, this play?"
"Absolutely bloodcurdling. So I've been assured."
"Excellent." She claps her hands together. "I hope there's a beheading."
Halfway to the theater, it starts raining in earnest, and they have to dash the rest of the way, laughing and half soaked as they duck inside. The air in the theater is thick with opium smoke and the smell of human bodies; there's a stage on one side of the large central room, but also tables where people are gambling, smoking and drinking, and a few courtesans plying their trade. Lin Moniao pays the doorman and heads for the seating near the stage, where the sounds of actors setting up can be heard behind painted screens.
This is better, Heng Wanxue thinks to himself--everybody comes to theater. Why shouldn't a rich young gentleman be spending time with a cheap scarred girl? She relaxes a tension she didn't even know she had been holding and steals a bag of nuts, then puts it back quickly. Habit is hard to break, but now she has a date who can pay for everything.
And then there's the disquiet again. She pushes it back. It's not a rich gentleman who's too good for her, it's Magpie. She takes his arm again and grins at him. "So you know these actors? Is there a story there?"
"Not a very interesting one," he says. "We were all traveling to Kaifeng, and they interrupted Huang-qianbei's nap with their practicing. He was quite upset, but it turned out they were his friends, so we didn't have to kill them." For a moment, his light tone falters, and he looks uncharacteristically serious, but it only lasts a moment before he shakes it off, squeezing her arm and scooting closer to her, resting his head on her shoulder. "One of the actresses explained it all to me. She's playing the scheming scholar's wicked sister, and the lord's daughter eventually bashes her head in with an inkstone. They do it with a pig's bladder filled with blood, apparently."
"Stop spoiling the play!" one of the other patrons shouts, and lobs a peanut at his head, but he only catches it and eats it, grinning unrepentantly.
Heng Wanxue twists in her seat and shouts back down the line, "It's okay! He lied! It's going to be a whetstone." That earns them more peanuts, but she burrows low in the seat and avoids them. She's not quite as fast or prone to showing off as Lin Moniao, let him catch any airborne snacks; she lets them clatter on to the floor.
But quiet, quiet, the play is starting. She settles comfortably, leaning on his shoulder, ready to be pleasantly horrified.
At this point, cymbals crash, and the music of flute and guqin starts up, and the screens are moved aside to reveal the stage. An actress, dressed and made up in ghostly white, is lowered from the ceiling, hovering at the end of a rope.
The play is just as bloodcurdling as advertised. The ghost of the heroine's mother who opens the play to warn her daughter of the peril she's about to encounter is only the first of many ghosts to swoop across the stage with grotesque visages, accompanied by chilling music. There are several brutal murders, and those of the audience sitting close to the stage--including Heng Wanxue and Lin Moniao--only narrowly escape being sprayed with whatever the actors are using to simulate blood. A few scenes between the scheming scholar and his wicked sister are just short of being utterly scandalous. And, as promised, the wicked sister does get her head bashed in with an inkstone, only to return as a ghost haunting Red Hill forever, while the heroine escapes with her faithful lover at last.
"I think I got some on my shoe." Wanxue holds out her left shoe and wiggles it, after she has cheered enthusiastically and the play is well and truly ended. She's had a thoroughly enjoyable time, though on occasion it was difficult not to laugh at the wrong places when the melodrama was particularly high. But it had everything a good play needs, especially the bloody murders and the happy ending. She can't remember when she last had so much fun. "I'm glad you and Huang Tianlin didn't kill these actors. Each one would have taken so long to die, you would have been days behind on your journey." But she says this in a low voice in his ear, in case any actors might hear and take it to heart.
"Good point," he laughs, then lowers his voice to match hers. "And if you're recovered now--I believe they have some rooms upstairs here."
"Here?" She's startled. "At the theatre? Just how good friends was Huang Tianlin with these people? I'm recovered, I'm recovered." A person might not want to eat after a performance of "The Ghosts of Red Hill", but it worked a treat on the digestion.
"They don't own this place, they're just performing here. And they're not the only entertainment going on." Indeed, amidst the ongoing gambling and drinking and smoking, there are also other couples slipping upstairs. He stands, and offers her his hands to help her up. "Ah, if you'd rather not... my mother's not at home, we could always try sneaking into her house."
"But it's halfway across town," she complains. "Here is good. Carry me."
"Practical." He hooks one arm under hers. "And impatient. I knew I liked you," he goes on, swinging her up and catching her under the knees with the other. "Oof." His knees bend a little, but he straightens his back and takes a firmer hold on her, gathering her to his chest. "I might not make it across town like this, but I think I can get you upstairs."
The room, when they get there, is small and simply furnished, with only a box bed and a wash stand. The afternoon light streaming in through gaps in the shutters catches dust motes in the air, and the faint smell of stale opium smoke hangs in the air, but, after all, it's private and it's clean. Lin Moniao nudges the door open with his foot and lets it shut behind them, then tosses her onto the bed and climbs up after her, fingers working on the fastenings of her tunic.
Her hands are faster than his, and as he's stripping her, she's stripping him. She stops to unhook Rulan's hairpin and set it carefully aside before lifting her hips to slip out of her trousers.
Once they are at least two thirds out of their clothes, she flips them around, pushes him on his back and crawling on all fours over him. She traces a hand down across his chest, smiling in admiration. He's grown, he's taller, filled out a bit, with a grown man's jawline and shoulders, instead of a boy still turning into a man, and he is mouth-wateringly lovely. Her heart aches to remember how happy he made her back when they were just kids and her life was short on happy things. And he's really here again. "Magpie," she says softly.
"Oh." His eyes flutter closed as he arches up into her touch, but only for a moment. He opens them again and they travel down the length of her body, his hands following, stroking down her sides and around to cup her seat, his touch feather-light and reverent. "Oh, Peony, look at you."
She chuckles. "You like?" Her body has changed too. She reaches back to press his hand tighter on her bottom, scooting her legs further apart. She looks further down, excitement tingling on her skin, and lets her hand travel down along with her eyes.
"I do." He grins, and, taking it as permission, squeezes harder, letting his nails sink into her flesh, tilting his hips up towards her, his jutting piece testifying that it's not just flattery. Keeping one hand on her bottom, he moves the other around to the front, open palm hovering just by her belly. "You're strong. I want--" He isn't touching her, but she can feel something brush against her, tasting of eternity, as qi does. "I've been--studying dual cultivation. The last time I practiced, it went wrong, but that was with a man, The worst that should happen with you is nothing. May I?"
She hesitates, eyes shifting to the side. "I've done it before, but... it requires concentration, and Magpie, I'm horny. All those chaste nights, and I've been wanting to jump you since I saw you in that clearing." She shifts forward and back restlessly, slightly flushed. "Can we leave it for second go?"
He makes a little choked noise in the back of his throat, piece twitching, when she says how much she wants him.
"Of course," he says, taking her direction as readily as he used to when he first came to her, knowing nothing but what he'd picked up secondhand growing up in a brothel. His hand closes on her and he lets the energy between them go, and finds her clit with his thumb.
She makes a strangled sound, her knees shake. She knew she'd been eager for it but the pleasure of his touch is almost shocking. "Yes!" She lays her hand over his, palm on the back of his hand, and guides him to touch her inside and out at the same time, rocking against his hand. It... might not take long until the second go this way.
Nevermind, nevermind! She'll take care of him! It's always the men who fall asleep first.
His thighs are trembling beneath her as he fingers her; his other arm tightens and he pulls himself up towards her, laying heated kisses on her breasts before he sucks one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. She curses softly, the feast of senses is almost too much. She reaches down to touch his piece, gingerly running her fingers over it. If this was a client... but that was a long time ago and she can afford to be greedy. "Can I ride you? Please!"
"Oh, yes." He bucks up into her hand, groaning, "Yes, I want--"
She grins happily, flushed, lets his hand go and lines him up. A few motions of her hips, brushing up against the tip of his piece to make sure it's going to be nice and easy, and then she sets herself down on him in almost one move. Good thing too, her knees were about to give up.
His head falls back on the bed, hair fanned out around it, face contorted in pleasure.
"Mmm!" She stays still, barely wiggling, to let her body adjust to the sweet invasion, but it's not long before her hips start going of their own accord. "Magpie, ah, it's so good, finally!"
His breath comes hard and fast as he settles one hand on her hip, still stroking her with the other, matching her rhythm. He thrusts up into her, deep and hard at first, but soon more shallowly, trying to hold himself back from the edge. "I can't--oh please--"
A warm happiness bubbles in her chest. "Let's do it together, Magpie? In--inside is fine, don't worry--ahh..." Alright, men might fall asleep first, but she's going to come now whether he's ready or not. But even before she's finished speaking, his hand tightens on her hip and he starts going hard again, a few thrusts only before he cries out, shudders, hips jerking once and twice and three times as he spills into her.
Her thighs clench along with her orgasm, her head thrown back, and she keeps moving until the pleasure turns into too much sensation; then she drops her head down on his shoulder, sweaty and messy and out of breath.
"I needed that! Thank you." She nuzzles his neck happily. "You can be on top next time."
"If you like." He laughs, a soft breath across the top of her head, and wraps his arms around her. "Ah, but you can't do that to a man and not give him a minute to recover, Peony. I'm not as young as I once was."
She pats his chest and grins. "Take your time, old man. A few more rounds to go. I'll get us some water." She pushes off in search of something to drink, poking about the little room in her unashamed nudity. She has some other new scars, but nothing as dramatic or obvious as the one on her face.
There 's a pitcher of water on the washstand; Lin Moniao pillows his head on one arm and watches her as she goes to fetch it. "You are still..." his voice is uncharacteristically hesitant as he speaks, as if he's not sure he's allowed to say it. "So beautiful."
"Especially from behind, eh?" She laughs and gives him a wink over her shoulder as she fills a drinking bowl for them to share. "We can talk about it, if you want," she says as she returns to the bed, and traces her finger down beside the scar. "I know I shut you down before. I know what it looks like. I've had time to get used to it, but you haven't. Everyone always called me pretty before, and now everyone calls me ugly. It's funny. I'm still the same person."
"Yes. I'm still getting used to it," he confesses. "But, after all, it's your face, and that's one of the best things for a face to be." He accepts the drinking bowl and raises it to her in a salute. "And your bottom, of course, is legendary."
"Thank you. I would have been offended if you hadn't mentioned it." She wiggles happily and takes her own sip. "How are you feeling? Dual cultivation? Where did you pick that up? Or should I ask?"
"Ah, it's a long story. Probably better if you don't." He runs a hand over the curve of her hip and down her thigh. "There's an advanced technique that lets one partner donate energy to the other, but I'm a long way from that yet. I need to study the basics first."
She almost asks what kind of energy, but closes her lips over the words. If Magpie says it's better she doesn't know, then that's good enough for her. "Well then, how shall we do it? I had one fellow cultivator who wanted simply to sit still entwined while his Yang rises, and another with whom sex was like a moving meditation. It's not really my skillset, but I should be able to help if I focus."
"Oh no, how dull." He gives a theatrical shudder when she mentions simply sitting still. "A moving meditation is closer. The way I learned it, one follows one's desire. The particular acts involved are less critical than the, ah--movement towards unity. Focus has been an issue," he admits with a sheepish shrug. But he doesn't stay sheepish for long. He flops onto his stomach and props his chin on crossed arms, smiling hopefully up at her. "I'd like to go down on you. If I may."
"I love you. Yes."
Instead of answering in words, he settles himself between her legs, holding himself up on his elbows. He licks and bites at her thighs while he spreads her open with his fingers. His mouth, when it fastens on her, is hot, the strokes of his tongue light and teasing.
At first, Wanxue focuses, falling into something like a state of meditation, noting the flow of her energies. When pleasure, or the exciting feel of his teeth spikes up her spiritual awareness, she incorporates into the flow, making the current stronger. She has only just opened up a little spiritually, like offering him a hug, when he his tongue hits a particular good spot and she keens, grasping the pillow under her head just to have something to hang on to, and just like that she's a creature of base flesh again. "Yes, yes!"
He gives a pleased wriggle at the encouragement, and slides a couple of fingers into her, curling them inside as he sucks at her clit. He ruts against the bed as he rocks into her, his own energy flaring, blending with hers without any direction.
She doesn't last very long that way, between the two kinds of pleasure, coming with her hips lifted off the bed and her toes curling. "Ahh, ahh. Come, come up." She pulls at him, she wants a messy kiss and to wrap her legs around him. Only if they kiss, her mouth... She had forgotten. But the thought only gives her pause for a moment. Who cares about kissing, when there are so many other delightful things to be doing?
He scoots up, bracing himself with his arms above her, flushed and looking very pleased with himself, his piece full and heavy against her, his legs shaking. "May I, should I, are you ready for more?"
"Absolutely, come here." She reaches between them to guide him back in. She doesn’t expect she herself can come again so soon but is Wanxue inhospitable? Never. Only when they're connected and she is happily wrapping her legs around him does she remember, and she puts her hands on his hips to still them. "Oh! Dual cultivation."
"Ahh." It's halfway between a laugh and a groan, and he drops his head to rest his forehead against hers, his unbound hair falling around them, the ends of it tickling her chest. "Focus. Oh, Peony."
But he goes completely still and takes a deep breath, and his spirit opens to her just as her body has opened to him, bright and warm and strong.
Poor Magpie! At least she got to go first. But she does her best, focusing to have her qi available and responsive, and her body quiet down. She feels like she's doing a terrible job, but at least she's trying!
When he starts moving again, it's slow, deliberate. Even when he speeds up, his breath hitching and his face lost in bliss, he never quite loses grasp of the connection between them, flowing back and forth unbroken, until it's not clear where he ends and she begins. He is guiding the cultivation, she is just along for the ride, and as soon as she realizes this, the easier it becomes for both of them. She relaxes into it, and into the slower building pleasure. She loves him so much. She is open to him, and he is open to her, and they move together through completion. It is a unity of spirit as well as bodies, and it is dizzying.
Finally he gasps and shudders and collapses on top of her, sweaty and boneless, the building energies not so much released as settled into a new, more harmonious balance. He nuzzles her cheek, half-dozing.
Wanxue is weak, flush with pleasure. She sinks her fingers into his hair and combs it out, trying to remind herself that she is Wanxue, and not also Magpie. Her legs are loose and powerless but still wrapped around him. She's done, she's done, she may not be asleep but nobody better ask her to move for a while. "Magpie, that was--oh you're just going to puff up--but it was amazing." She blows out a puff of air. "Whoof! Did it work?"
"Mmmm. Please don't ask me to puff up for another day at least. You know, I think it did." He kisses her neck lazily. "You're wonderful."
Wanxue giggles and wriggles a little. Her pride is intact, she has not been outlasted. She pats his back. "Well done."
Story: Lin Moniao Series (AO3 link)
Colors: Chocolate-Dipped Strawberry #8 (caress), Electric Sky #1 (Nectar)
Supplies and Styles: gesso, nubs; interactive art
Word Count: 4,594
Rating: explicit
Warnings: Rated for sex (dual cultivation); contains a gruesome play and competitive eating (not a double entendre).
Summary: Lin Moniao and Heng Wanxue celebrate their reunion.
Note: Co-written with
minutia_r . This is a scene between the events of Chasing the Bat and Mid-Autumn Festival that ended up not being included in either. Also available on AO3 here (specific chapter link), with art (not mine but really great, recommended; the art is SFW). I decided not to call this a silhouette because the style is for "romance or growing relationship" and these two know where they are already.*
Heng Wanxue knows how to find Wu Zhenghao's house--her master has been keeping a close and bitter eye on it ever since Huang Tianlin started to consort with the parrot cultists--but this is the first time she's been here herself. The house sits in one of the finer districts of Kaifeng, where imperial guards, as well as the bodyguards of local fancy types, are inclined to roughly move undesirables along, so it's rarely worth the risk. Wanxue has had plenty of practice sliding past guards, however, and this time it's definitely going to be worth it.
It's a little after the start of wu when she finds it. Lin Moniao is leaning in the gate, eyes scanning the streets. If he looked like a young master when she first caught sight of him with Huang Tianlin outside the inn, he looks twice as rich now, in his black robes with their bright red lining, polished boots, hair caught up in a shiny hairpiece. He doesn't seem to have spotted her yet.
She bites her lip--not nervous exactly, but--maybe a little nervous, but more excited. And she had dressed up, as much as she could between her various roommates rustling up the nice clothes they used when they had to be presentable, leading to something that might pass as respectable at first glance. She kept her green tunic, though. There was nothing wrong with her green tunic. Her hairpin is cheap fake jade and gilded tin, but Rulan had insisted it would bring her luck.
She consider sneaking up and surprising him, but instead just kicks off the streets and runs, launching herself at him and expecting him to catch.
His eyes light up as she leaps at him, but his arms are already open for her, responding even before he knows she's there. Though he staggers back a step at the impact, he catches her neatly, holding her in the air for few seconds before setting her down on her feet. "I thought I was supposed to be the bird," he laughs. "Hold on, I got you something."
He reaches into his sleeve and opens his hand. Sitting on the palm is a small ceramic figurine, a delicately sculpted, pink-glazed pig, with gilding on the tips of the ears and the tail.
She squeaks in pleasure and scoops it up, holding the pig up at face level, and gives him a side-ways glance. "It is cheating a little."
"Now you have it, in case you make any other rash promises. And when you kiss it, you can think of me."
She gives the pig a kiss and the man a nuzzle, laughing. "I love it. Where are we going?"
He takes her hand. "I was thinking we could go to Spring Pavilion."
Wanxue wraps the ceramic pig in a napkin and pockets it; with any luck, it will survive. She's always careful of her pouches.
The sky is overcast, threatening rain, but none falls as they make their way to the restaurant. It's a one-story building with seating in the courtyard that spills out into the street. A mixture of tradespeople, slightly shabby scholars, and men and women of indeterminate profession who might be members of the underworld or the jianghu are eating in this section, while indoors the tables are filled with officials, a prosperous-looking merchant couple, and a crowd of obviously drunk, wealthy young men. The kitchen is visible behind a half-wall, with pots of steaming dumplings and boiling noodles, and long spits roasting fowls over open flames, grease dripping and sputtering on the fire.
"Have I told you how handsome you look?" Wanxue asks. "You look so handsome you'll make the Weaving Girl forget all about the Shepherd Boy." She holds on to his arm, but her nose is turning towards the kitchen. She can look at him all day, but her stomach is grumbling.
"I don't believe you've told me yet today; on oversight on your part, I'm sure," he says with a grin. Despite his complacency, he clearly likes hearing it. A few heads turn towards them as they walk into the restaurant; they do have a pair of memorable faces, especially together. "Shall we sit inside or outside?"
"Outside," she says promptly, but gives the sky a worried glance. Outside means they can run if they have to; also, drunk gongzis are only good if you want to roll them, and she's taking the day off. "Why not? The weather might turn, and here I can point out all the beautiful people who pass by who aren't as beautiful as you."
"Only if you can take your eyes off the food."
"I eat with my mouth and look with my eyes. No problem! Speaking is another thing. I may have to sign."
They find a table between a man with a box of carpenter's tools, and a middle-aged woman wearing a wide-brimmed hat and carrying a heavy staff, attended by a younger woman and a younger man. Lin Moniao flags down a waiter, and soon they have a bottle of baijiu, a plate of pork buns and a bowl of noodles with fried vegetables, and a duck with crispy skin, still sizzling from the fire. He pours cups for both of them and sips his own, leaning on one elbow on the table, looking at her with an expression somewhere between fond and challenging.
Heng Wanxue is aware of how they look together, even if she is electing to ignore it, and the people over at the next table had stayed in her peripheral vision, a point of subtle anxiety. But then, there is food! So much, so good! Her mouth salivates just looking at it, and she can't help but clap her hands together and make a sound of delight. And a whole duck! She doesn't know where to start, so she closes her eyes and draws in a breath, savoring the anticipation.
But no, she's going to start with the duck, of course. She has several pieces sliced and set on her plate before she remembers Magpie. "You have some too! You're paying for it!"
He bites into a pork bun, eyes crinkling at her over the top of it. "But then I wouldn't have the pleasure of watching you eat an entire duck. Don't worry, I'll finish it if you can't. And if you can, I'll buy you another one."
"A worthy goal." She is thinking of getting a second duck, and though he means for her to eat it, how she could ask them to wrap it up and bring it to her roommates, slightly dry by then, probably, but they could steam it soft again.
Unfortunately, it turns out that even one duck is too many ducks for Heng Wanxue. Lin Moniao ends up eating the back meat and one of the wings. "A valiant effort," he says nonetheless.
A light drizzle has started falling, pattering on the canvas awning overhead, but not too troublesome yet.
"I'm so disappointed!" But her stomach is really done, and no amount of willing spirit will fit another piece in. At least she got a taste of everything on the table before she had to call it quits. She sips wine slowly to settle everything. Boldly, she adds, "I might need a moment before lovemaking."
"Oh?" He leans across the table towards her. "Well, if you would like more than a moment, when Huang-qianbei and I arrived in Kaifeng, we were traveling with some of his theatrical friends, and I promised I'd go see their performance of 'The Ghosts of Red Hill'. We could go, if you're interested."
She leans back and holds her stomach. "Yes! Perfect. You had this all planned out, didn't you, Magpie? I just thought we'd eat and find a bed. Heavens, I didn't even bring a present. Is it very gruesome, this play?"
"Absolutely bloodcurdling. So I've been assured."
"Excellent." She claps her hands together. "I hope there's a beheading."
Halfway to the theater, it starts raining in earnest, and they have to dash the rest of the way, laughing and half soaked as they duck inside. The air in the theater is thick with opium smoke and the smell of human bodies; there's a stage on one side of the large central room, but also tables where people are gambling, smoking and drinking, and a few courtesans plying their trade. Lin Moniao pays the doorman and heads for the seating near the stage, where the sounds of actors setting up can be heard behind painted screens.
This is better, Heng Wanxue thinks to himself--everybody comes to theater. Why shouldn't a rich young gentleman be spending time with a cheap scarred girl? She relaxes a tension she didn't even know she had been holding and steals a bag of nuts, then puts it back quickly. Habit is hard to break, but now she has a date who can pay for everything.
And then there's the disquiet again. She pushes it back. It's not a rich gentleman who's too good for her, it's Magpie. She takes his arm again and grins at him. "So you know these actors? Is there a story there?"
"Not a very interesting one," he says. "We were all traveling to Kaifeng, and they interrupted Huang-qianbei's nap with their practicing. He was quite upset, but it turned out they were his friends, so we didn't have to kill them." For a moment, his light tone falters, and he looks uncharacteristically serious, but it only lasts a moment before he shakes it off, squeezing her arm and scooting closer to her, resting his head on her shoulder. "One of the actresses explained it all to me. She's playing the scheming scholar's wicked sister, and the lord's daughter eventually bashes her head in with an inkstone. They do it with a pig's bladder filled with blood, apparently."
"Stop spoiling the play!" one of the other patrons shouts, and lobs a peanut at his head, but he only catches it and eats it, grinning unrepentantly.
Heng Wanxue twists in her seat and shouts back down the line, "It's okay! He lied! It's going to be a whetstone." That earns them more peanuts, but she burrows low in the seat and avoids them. She's not quite as fast or prone to showing off as Lin Moniao, let him catch any airborne snacks; she lets them clatter on to the floor.
But quiet, quiet, the play is starting. She settles comfortably, leaning on his shoulder, ready to be pleasantly horrified.
At this point, cymbals crash, and the music of flute and guqin starts up, and the screens are moved aside to reveal the stage. An actress, dressed and made up in ghostly white, is lowered from the ceiling, hovering at the end of a rope.
The play is just as bloodcurdling as advertised. The ghost of the heroine's mother who opens the play to warn her daughter of the peril she's about to encounter is only the first of many ghosts to swoop across the stage with grotesque visages, accompanied by chilling music. There are several brutal murders, and those of the audience sitting close to the stage--including Heng Wanxue and Lin Moniao--only narrowly escape being sprayed with whatever the actors are using to simulate blood. A few scenes between the scheming scholar and his wicked sister are just short of being utterly scandalous. And, as promised, the wicked sister does get her head bashed in with an inkstone, only to return as a ghost haunting Red Hill forever, while the heroine escapes with her faithful lover at last.
"I think I got some on my shoe." Wanxue holds out her left shoe and wiggles it, after she has cheered enthusiastically and the play is well and truly ended. She's had a thoroughly enjoyable time, though on occasion it was difficult not to laugh at the wrong places when the melodrama was particularly high. But it had everything a good play needs, especially the bloody murders and the happy ending. She can't remember when she last had so much fun. "I'm glad you and Huang Tianlin didn't kill these actors. Each one would have taken so long to die, you would have been days behind on your journey." But she says this in a low voice in his ear, in case any actors might hear and take it to heart.
"Good point," he laughs, then lowers his voice to match hers. "And if you're recovered now--I believe they have some rooms upstairs here."
"Here?" She's startled. "At the theatre? Just how good friends was Huang Tianlin with these people? I'm recovered, I'm recovered." A person might not want to eat after a performance of "The Ghosts of Red Hill", but it worked a treat on the digestion.
"They don't own this place, they're just performing here. And they're not the only entertainment going on." Indeed, amidst the ongoing gambling and drinking and smoking, there are also other couples slipping upstairs. He stands, and offers her his hands to help her up. "Ah, if you'd rather not... my mother's not at home, we could always try sneaking into her house."
"But it's halfway across town," she complains. "Here is good. Carry me."
"Practical." He hooks one arm under hers. "And impatient. I knew I liked you," he goes on, swinging her up and catching her under the knees with the other. "Oof." His knees bend a little, but he straightens his back and takes a firmer hold on her, gathering her to his chest. "I might not make it across town like this, but I think I can get you upstairs."
The room, when they get there, is small and simply furnished, with only a box bed and a wash stand. The afternoon light streaming in through gaps in the shutters catches dust motes in the air, and the faint smell of stale opium smoke hangs in the air, but, after all, it's private and it's clean. Lin Moniao nudges the door open with his foot and lets it shut behind them, then tosses her onto the bed and climbs up after her, fingers working on the fastenings of her tunic.
Her hands are faster than his, and as he's stripping her, she's stripping him. She stops to unhook Rulan's hairpin and set it carefully aside before lifting her hips to slip out of her trousers.
Once they are at least two thirds out of their clothes, she flips them around, pushes him on his back and crawling on all fours over him. She traces a hand down across his chest, smiling in admiration. He's grown, he's taller, filled out a bit, with a grown man's jawline and shoulders, instead of a boy still turning into a man, and he is mouth-wateringly lovely. Her heart aches to remember how happy he made her back when they were just kids and her life was short on happy things. And he's really here again. "Magpie," she says softly.
"Oh." His eyes flutter closed as he arches up into her touch, but only for a moment. He opens them again and they travel down the length of her body, his hands following, stroking down her sides and around to cup her seat, his touch feather-light and reverent. "Oh, Peony, look at you."
She chuckles. "You like?" Her body has changed too. She reaches back to press his hand tighter on her bottom, scooting her legs further apart. She looks further down, excitement tingling on her skin, and lets her hand travel down along with her eyes.
"I do." He grins, and, taking it as permission, squeezes harder, letting his nails sink into her flesh, tilting his hips up towards her, his jutting piece testifying that it's not just flattery. Keeping one hand on her bottom, he moves the other around to the front, open palm hovering just by her belly. "You're strong. I want--" He isn't touching her, but she can feel something brush against her, tasting of eternity, as qi does. "I've been--studying dual cultivation. The last time I practiced, it went wrong, but that was with a man, The worst that should happen with you is nothing. May I?"
She hesitates, eyes shifting to the side. "I've done it before, but... it requires concentration, and Magpie, I'm horny. All those chaste nights, and I've been wanting to jump you since I saw you in that clearing." She shifts forward and back restlessly, slightly flushed. "Can we leave it for second go?"
He makes a little choked noise in the back of his throat, piece twitching, when she says how much she wants him.
"Of course," he says, taking her direction as readily as he used to when he first came to her, knowing nothing but what he'd picked up secondhand growing up in a brothel. His hand closes on her and he lets the energy between them go, and finds her clit with his thumb.
She makes a strangled sound, her knees shake. She knew she'd been eager for it but the pleasure of his touch is almost shocking. "Yes!" She lays her hand over his, palm on the back of his hand, and guides him to touch her inside and out at the same time, rocking against his hand. It... might not take long until the second go this way.
Nevermind, nevermind! She'll take care of him! It's always the men who fall asleep first.
His thighs are trembling beneath her as he fingers her; his other arm tightens and he pulls himself up towards her, laying heated kisses on her breasts before he sucks one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. She curses softly, the feast of senses is almost too much. She reaches down to touch his piece, gingerly running her fingers over it. If this was a client... but that was a long time ago and she can afford to be greedy. "Can I ride you? Please!"
"Oh, yes." He bucks up into her hand, groaning, "Yes, I want--"
She grins happily, flushed, lets his hand go and lines him up. A few motions of her hips, brushing up against the tip of his piece to make sure it's going to be nice and easy, and then she sets herself down on him in almost one move. Good thing too, her knees were about to give up.
His head falls back on the bed, hair fanned out around it, face contorted in pleasure.
"Mmm!" She stays still, barely wiggling, to let her body adjust to the sweet invasion, but it's not long before her hips start going of their own accord. "Magpie, ah, it's so good, finally!"
His breath comes hard and fast as he settles one hand on her hip, still stroking her with the other, matching her rhythm. He thrusts up into her, deep and hard at first, but soon more shallowly, trying to hold himself back from the edge. "I can't--oh please--"
A warm happiness bubbles in her chest. "Let's do it together, Magpie? In--inside is fine, don't worry--ahh..." Alright, men might fall asleep first, but she's going to come now whether he's ready or not. But even before she's finished speaking, his hand tightens on her hip and he starts going hard again, a few thrusts only before he cries out, shudders, hips jerking once and twice and three times as he spills into her.
Her thighs clench along with her orgasm, her head thrown back, and she keeps moving until the pleasure turns into too much sensation; then she drops her head down on his shoulder, sweaty and messy and out of breath.
"I needed that! Thank you." She nuzzles his neck happily. "You can be on top next time."
"If you like." He laughs, a soft breath across the top of her head, and wraps his arms around her. "Ah, but you can't do that to a man and not give him a minute to recover, Peony. I'm not as young as I once was."
She pats his chest and grins. "Take your time, old man. A few more rounds to go. I'll get us some water." She pushes off in search of something to drink, poking about the little room in her unashamed nudity. She has some other new scars, but nothing as dramatic or obvious as the one on her face.
There 's a pitcher of water on the washstand; Lin Moniao pillows his head on one arm and watches her as she goes to fetch it. "You are still..." his voice is uncharacteristically hesitant as he speaks, as if he's not sure he's allowed to say it. "So beautiful."
"Especially from behind, eh?" She laughs and gives him a wink over her shoulder as she fills a drinking bowl for them to share. "We can talk about it, if you want," she says as she returns to the bed, and traces her finger down beside the scar. "I know I shut you down before. I know what it looks like. I've had time to get used to it, but you haven't. Everyone always called me pretty before, and now everyone calls me ugly. It's funny. I'm still the same person."
"Yes. I'm still getting used to it," he confesses. "But, after all, it's your face, and that's one of the best things for a face to be." He accepts the drinking bowl and raises it to her in a salute. "And your bottom, of course, is legendary."
"Thank you. I would have been offended if you hadn't mentioned it." She wiggles happily and takes her own sip. "How are you feeling? Dual cultivation? Where did you pick that up? Or should I ask?"
"Ah, it's a long story. Probably better if you don't." He runs a hand over the curve of her hip and down her thigh. "There's an advanced technique that lets one partner donate energy to the other, but I'm a long way from that yet. I need to study the basics first."
She almost asks what kind of energy, but closes her lips over the words. If Magpie says it's better she doesn't know, then that's good enough for her. "Well then, how shall we do it? I had one fellow cultivator who wanted simply to sit still entwined while his Yang rises, and another with whom sex was like a moving meditation. It's not really my skillset, but I should be able to help if I focus."
"Oh no, how dull." He gives a theatrical shudder when she mentions simply sitting still. "A moving meditation is closer. The way I learned it, one follows one's desire. The particular acts involved are less critical than the, ah--movement towards unity. Focus has been an issue," he admits with a sheepish shrug. But he doesn't stay sheepish for long. He flops onto his stomach and props his chin on crossed arms, smiling hopefully up at her. "I'd like to go down on you. If I may."
"I love you. Yes."
Instead of answering in words, he settles himself between her legs, holding himself up on his elbows. He licks and bites at her thighs while he spreads her open with his fingers. His mouth, when it fastens on her, is hot, the strokes of his tongue light and teasing.
At first, Wanxue focuses, falling into something like a state of meditation, noting the flow of her energies. When pleasure, or the exciting feel of his teeth spikes up her spiritual awareness, she incorporates into the flow, making the current stronger. She has only just opened up a little spiritually, like offering him a hug, when he his tongue hits a particular good spot and she keens, grasping the pillow under her head just to have something to hang on to, and just like that she's a creature of base flesh again. "Yes, yes!"
He gives a pleased wriggle at the encouragement, and slides a couple of fingers into her, curling them inside as he sucks at her clit. He ruts against the bed as he rocks into her, his own energy flaring, blending with hers without any direction.
She doesn't last very long that way, between the two kinds of pleasure, coming with her hips lifted off the bed and her toes curling. "Ahh, ahh. Come, come up." She pulls at him, she wants a messy kiss and to wrap her legs around him. Only if they kiss, her mouth... She had forgotten. But the thought only gives her pause for a moment. Who cares about kissing, when there are so many other delightful things to be doing?
He scoots up, bracing himself with his arms above her, flushed and looking very pleased with himself, his piece full and heavy against her, his legs shaking. "May I, should I, are you ready for more?"
"Absolutely, come here." She reaches between them to guide him back in. She doesn’t expect she herself can come again so soon but is Wanxue inhospitable? Never. Only when they're connected and she is happily wrapping her legs around him does she remember, and she puts her hands on his hips to still them. "Oh! Dual cultivation."
"Ahh." It's halfway between a laugh and a groan, and he drops his head to rest his forehead against hers, his unbound hair falling around them, the ends of it tickling her chest. "Focus. Oh, Peony."
But he goes completely still and takes a deep breath, and his spirit opens to her just as her body has opened to him, bright and warm and strong.
Poor Magpie! At least she got to go first. But she does her best, focusing to have her qi available and responsive, and her body quiet down. She feels like she's doing a terrible job, but at least she's trying!
When he starts moving again, it's slow, deliberate. Even when he speeds up, his breath hitching and his face lost in bliss, he never quite loses grasp of the connection between them, flowing back and forth unbroken, until it's not clear where he ends and she begins. He is guiding the cultivation, she is just along for the ride, and as soon as she realizes this, the easier it becomes for both of them. She relaxes into it, and into the slower building pleasure. She loves him so much. She is open to him, and he is open to her, and they move together through completion. It is a unity of spirit as well as bodies, and it is dizzying.
Finally he gasps and shudders and collapses on top of her, sweaty and boneless, the building energies not so much released as settled into a new, more harmonious balance. He nuzzles her cheek, half-dozing.
Wanxue is weak, flush with pleasure. She sinks her fingers into his hair and combs it out, trying to remind herself that she is Wanxue, and not also Magpie. Her legs are loose and powerless but still wrapped around him. She's done, she's done, she may not be asleep but nobody better ask her to move for a while. "Magpie, that was--oh you're just going to puff up--but it was amazing." She blows out a puff of air. "Whoof! Did it work?"
"Mmmm. Please don't ask me to puff up for another day at least. You know, I think it did." He kisses her neck lazily. "You're wonderful."
Wanxue giggles and wriggles a little. Her pride is intact, she has not been outlasted. She pats his back. "Well done."