The Hidden Moon

by Jeannie Lin

  As she started to lower herself onto the mat, she realized something.

  She hadn’t given Gao an answer.

  He’d spent the entire meal waiting for her response. Grabbing her robe, she pulled the silk over her shoulders. It settled over her like water. She tied the sash around her waist with quick fingers, and blew out the oil lamp before slipping out the door.

  She opened the door to the adjacent chamber and slipped inside.

  The lamp was still lit. Gao was lying on the sleeping pallet, reading from a tattered book with a dark blue cover. He turned his head as she entered and then pulled himself up into sitting position.

  “Wei-wei.”

  She spilled into his arms. “Yes. I’ll have you,” she replied.

  “I didn’t mean right now—”

  She pressed her lips to his, cutting off his protest, but it couldn’t have been much of a protest because he returned the kiss, his mouth hard and hungry. It was only then that Gao seemed real to her. Earlier, in the convent, he had been so formal, so reserved. There was nothing reserved about him now. She clung to him, feeding on the raw, rough-edged essence of him that she remembered. Wei-wei longed to pressed against him, so much closer than they were until they absorbed one another.

  Somehow Gao ended up on his back on the sleeping mat while she leaned over him, her hands tugging at the knot in his belt. Gao looked up at her with a look of awe, his breath ragged. “So beautiful,” he murmured.

  “Mmm-hmmm.” She was too busy trying to loosen the knot appreciate the compliment. Her heart was pounding so hard. A mixture of anticipation and nervousness was making her fingers clumsy.

  Gao reached behind his neck to pull out the booklet he’d been reading. There was a deep crease in the already worn cover.

  “What is that?” She’d abandoned the knotted sash to slip her hands into the fold of his robe, stroking until she found skin. His heart beat forcefully beneath her fingers.

  “The Thousand Character Classic,” he replied, his eyes dark on her. “I’m reading it to try to impress you.”

  She frowned. “It’s a primer given to children.”

  His lips quirked. “I know. Are you impressed?”

  She fell on top of him, her mouth over his. She could feel the curve of his smile against her lips as he rolled her over. Gao fared much better than she did with knots. Her sash yielded to his hands in a whisper of silk. He slipped her robe from her and removed her underclothes, bending to place a heated kiss against her bared shoulder. Wei-wei shivered as the evening air chilled her skin, but Gao undressed quickly and returned to gather her into his arms. His eyes were deep and black as they remained locked on hers.

  “Now?” he asked.

  She nodded, her throat dry. As certain as she was of the moment, she was inexperienced in the how of things. Gao captured her mouth in a kiss again, removing any need to speak. For the next moments there was only this, mouth to mouth, skin to skin. Her breath caught up with his. Gao was the same Gao she knew, but different. The hard, bared angles that she remembered had been filled in, smoothed over but the hard lines were still there. Tempered.

  His hands molded over her, as if Gao was remembering her too. And discovering new places as well.

  The urgency grew inside her as his long fingers stroked over her breasts, then lower. She remembered this touch so acutely. There had been so many nights when she tried to conjure the same sweet desperation. The intense way Gao watched her face and how the world shrunk down to the single point of heat between them.

  She clung to him, pulling him closer. She didn’t have to imagine him any longer. He was here.

  “I thought I would never see you again.” She gasped as he touched her intimately, rough fingers with a gentle touch over the most sensitive part of her. She felt the touch deeper than her flesh, shooting straight to her heart.

  “I thought the same,” he said.

  She arched her hips helplessly toward him as his fingers stroked, circled, doing things to her until she was flushed, heated, liquid. This was as wonderful as she remembered. She could feel the male part of him pressing against her hip and reached downward to search for him. She couldn’t see, but what her fingers slid over was silken smooth. Unexpected when the rest of him was all heat and hardness. Gao clenched his jaw, letting out a ragged breath.

  “I’m doing poorly on this test,” he muttered through his teeth.

  She was so confused. “I think…I think you’re doing quite well,” she said breathlessly.

  Gao made a choked sound and shook his head. His expression was either one of anguish or amusement. Maybe both.

  He curved a hand around the back of her neck, tilting her head up to kiss her passionately. Then he broke away and bent to press his mouth to the hollow of her throat, her neck. Each caress sent shivers down her spine. Then his gentle lips were replaced by the sharp rasp of teeth, and her body jerked up, pressing restlessly against his male member. A sound of unrestrained pleasure escaped her throat.

  She pleaded, crying out as she clung to him. Gao’s gaze captured hers as he repositioned himself.

  “Wei-wei,” he murmured. He laced his fingers through hers, holding on tight, and she waited breathlessly for what would come. Fleeting visions of caves and springs, yin rang and yang essence came to mind. The books on the matter were so cryptic.

  His other hand dipped again between her thighs, parting her with gentle fingers. She blinked up at him, her heartbeat thundering in her chest. Wanting and anxious. A deep furrow etched itself into his brow. He looked deep in concentration.

  The first sensation of penetration stole her breath. Then the fear came along with a feeling of being slowly invaded and altered, but Gao held her through it. His hips continued to thrust and she closed her eyes to focus on the feelings. Gao exhaled sharply and groaned. Her pulse was rushing too fast in her ears. The sensation between her thighs intensified as he pushed deeper, sending a wave of sensation through her that she could feel all the way to her toes. Gao was inside her, flesh to flesh. It was unfathomable and miraculous.

  When he began to move, his thrusts became a second pulse. Her breath followed each pull, his body urged hers into the same rhythms. There was no more wondering of how or why. Her knees curved upwards, bending to fit around his hips. When she touched a hand to his cheek, his eyes were lost.

  The feeling was beyond pain or pleasure. She was too overwhelmed with the knowledge of being joined with someone else. Gao shifted, hooking a hand beneath her knee. There was an odd sense of being moved, mastered, but the altered angle changed everything.

  She cried out as his every movement became pure pleasure, a tide rising higher until it broke.

  They continued like that, ending, beginning again. Learning each other with each minute as if they could regain the days lost between them.

  Sometime near morning, they slept.

  Chapter 28

  It was dark in the room. The oil lamp had long guttered out and the light filtering from outside was the dim orange of the new dawn. Wei-wei was still sleeping amidst the pile of their discarded clothing while Gao watched her. The feel of her was imprinted on his skin. Her scent surrounded him. He hoped her sleep was as peaceful and contented as it outwardly appeared. His own thoughts were in turmoil.

  When she did wake, the first thing she did was search for him. It set a crack in his heart when she gathered the blanket around herself and moved to him, curling up in his lap.

  “You look fearsome sitting here in the dark,” she said

  “Do I?”

  Wei-wei nodded, closing her eyes again as her head settled against his shoulder. “What are you thinking about?”

  That he would never, ever be able walk away from her again.

  “I asked your father permission for us to marry.”

  She made a soft sound of agreement. It seemed so simple, so easy when it was just the two of them and she was warm in his arms, but nothing was simple.

  “If he refuses, I w
ill have to do something very rash.”

  Her eyes flicked open, large and luminous. “Please don’t stab my father.”

  He bit her neck, feeling the ripple of pleasure that moved through her.

  Wei-wei. He loved her, he loved her, he loved her.

  “I’ll have to steal you away.”

  Again, she made a sound to indicate assent and tried to curl up once more.

  “If your father hasn’t killed me by then.”

  Wei-wei was clever, and she’d proven her ability to move mountains when she set her mind to it. Gao could certainly use her help with his plotting at the moment, and he told her so.

  “My father won’t refuse you,” she asserted.

  “How do you know that for certain?”

  She lifted her head from his shoulder. “Sending you here was his answer.”

  He regarded her skeptically. “He doesn’t even know who I am.”

  “My father knows who you are,” Wei-wei said, growing serious. “The day that Li Chen and I were supposed to be betrothed, I told him I would obey him and honor our family’s promise if that was what he decided was best. But that I hadn’t slept and I hadn’t eaten. And I wouldn’t be able to sleep and I wouldn’t be able to eat because I was sick with love.”

  “Sick?” he questioned.

  She blushed and hid her face against the crook of his neck, rendering him defenseless.

  “I told my father exactly what was in my heart,” she murmured against his skin. “I told him if I married Li Chen, I would never be more than half a wife. I told him bringing such unhappiness into a marriage from the very first day would doom it to failure. I hated failing my family more than anything, but one couldn’t force sorrow away with a command.”

  Gao was stunned. “I can’t believe your father found any of that acceptable.”

  “He was furious with me. I’d never been so unreasonable. So unseemly and emotional. Mother cried and lamented how she hadn’t taught me well enough. It was the worst thing I’d ever done, not biting my tongue and remaining quiet.” Her voice flooded with emotion. “Our two families never met that day. Instead, Father sent me to Huashan to avoid gossip and heal from a broken heart. By then, I thought you were gone forever.”

  They held each other as daylight crept in.

  “In the end, you just told your father the truth,” he said quietly.

  She nodded. “And he listened, as hard as it was. So, he must have known who you were from the moment you stood before him.”

  Epilogue

  The ceremony of moving into a new home was an elaborate one. It had started three days earlier when she and Gao had come to bring light into the house. They’d walked through each room, placing oil lamps and shining lanterns in each corner. There were four rooms and two floors in the tidy residence and a kitchen in the back part of the ground floor. It was much smaller than the Bai family home, but Wei-wei was excited to finally have a place to call their own.

  They had been living within the Bai mansion since their wedding a month ago while the necessary petitions for moving into the ward were approved. During that time, Yue-ying had tried to teach Wei-wei how to cook her own dishes to prepare her for having a kitchen without servants to take care of it.

  “I can boil millet and pickle radishes,” Wei-wei insisted. It might be a little while before there were more interesting flavors at the dinner table, but at least she and Gao wouldn’t go hungry.

  The entire purpose of the house moving ritual was to cleanse away the energy and spirit of the previous inhabitants. That way, she and Gao would move in to a home free of any ill-fortune and negative energy. And any ghosts. No one wanted old ghosts lingering around when moving in. Wei-wei had sprinkled rice and salt around the perimeter the day before to draw them outside in case any were lingering about.

  Today was to be their first night in the home. They’d thrown open all the doors and windows when they’d arrived in the morning and had begun all the prescribed tasks.

  “Go away now, old spirits,” she called out to the walls. “Wei-wei and Gao are here now.”

  Gao laughed. “Do you believe all that?”

  “You tell them,” she urged. “You’re the master of the house. They’ll be afraid of you.”

  “Go away, old spirits,” he said gamely, grinning at her the entire time.

  If any of the ghosts refused to leave, it would be his fault.

  Together, they lit incense before the altar and said a prayer for the Gao family ancestors.

  Then Gao went upstairs to finish moving the bed while she tidied the downstairs rooms. She would be up later to sort through the books for the study. The furniture had been brought in earlier, but tradition dictated that they only finish adjusting everything into its final position today.

  Wei-wei started sweeping the floor. This chore of house cleaning was novel enough to be an adventure of its own.

  There would be many changes for both of them. Their house was right up against the neighbors to the left and the right. Instead of the wide double courtyard house Wei-wei was accustomed to, there was a small enclosed garden behind the kitchen. When they stepped outside, they would immediately be in the street.

  The house was located to the west of the East Market, not far from the magistrate’s yamen. That was where Gao reported at the start of each day. He’d be able to go there on foot now instead of taking a carriage or horse all the way from the mansions in the northeast.

  There were still people who said that Lord Bai’s daughter had married a lowly constable. They wondered what scandalous things must have occurred for her to have settled for someone beneath her class. If the gossipers had asked Wei-wei, she would have told them scandal was just the start of it. There was subterfuge and disguise, murder and treason. But of course, the gossipers would never say anything so directly. They preferred to whisper. She was glad to be far enough away from the mansion ward not to hear them.

  She’d just finished sweeping when she heard a sound at the door. Li Chen stood there, holding parcels of tea and salt.

  “Magistrate Li, you’re early.”

  “I won’t be able to attend the housewarming party, but I wanted to come and wish you both well.” He held out the parcels and she thanked him as she took them. “From my mother, though she told me not speak of it.”

  Another area where a hint of scandal remained. Lord Bai’s daughter ended up marrying Li Chen’s constable, the gossipers whispered with wicked glee.

  Let them whisper. It was true, and she was quite gleeful about it herself. She was writing a tale about it.

  “It’s a good place,” Li said, taking in the surroundings. “Good light.”

  “The study will be upstairs. We only have a small collection of books to start.”

  “That will certainly change over time,” he remarked, wandering to the back toward the kitchen. “I’ve noticed the quality of Constable Gao’s reports have improved quite a bit lately,” he said casually, while peering out into the garden.

  Wei-wei had hoped the papers she’d written would just be filed away after a quick glance, but of course Li would dutifully scrutinize every report. He was a dedicated official.

  “I’ve assisted my husband, from time to time,” she admitted. By this, she meant every time. She looked forward to Gao’s retelling of the day, and it was hardly any effort at all for her to record them. One never knew when Gao would recall something pertinent he hadn’t thought of initially, or she might notice a detail that he hadn’t.

  “No matter. I didn’t hire the constable for his calligraphy,” the magistrate assured, still focused on the garden.

  “Can I ask you something as well, Magistrate Li?”

  He returned his attention to her. This was the first time she’d spoken to him personally since the pact they had made inside his office.

  “What did you tell your family in order to dissolve the betrothal?”

  “I told my mother that I was caught in a dilemma. If I honored our
promise to the Bai family by marrying their daughter, I would forever be unable to repay a great debt that I owed. Either way, our family would face dishonor.”

  She frowned at him. “That implies I was being courted by the man to which you owed a debt.”

  “Well, I didn’t realize you were going to get yourself sent to a convent. That was much more dramatic than my play,” he said with admiration.

  Wei-wei started to correct him, but decided it wasn’t necessary. The overall details still worked out.

  “In any case, I didn’t lie. Your husband may not admit it. I don’t even suppose he thinks of it this way, but Constable Gao saved my life the morning after the extended curfew.”

  She remembered how Gao and Li Chen had come rushing into the tea house with a man who was believed to be one of the assassins at the Yanxi Gate. There had been blood everywhere, but none of it had been Li’s.

  “I owed Constable Gao a great debt from that day,” Li Chen concluded. “And when I saw how he’d given away his reward from the Emperor, I knew he was the better man.”

  Her chest swelled with emotion. It was when she’d known as well. If Gao could risk so much, without any benefit to himself-—she could risk telling her truth.

  There was a loud crash from overhead, followed by cursing.

  “Better in some ways,” Li amended.

  “My husband is moving the bed upstairs.”

  “Can I offer any assistance?”

  Together, Gao and Li Chen were able to move the heavy wooden bed into the correct orientation prescribed by the feng shui master. Then Wei-wei brewed tea and poured out two bowls while the magistrate and Gao discussed county details. The first tea she poured in her own parlor. She poured out a third bowl for herself and seated herself beside Gao, listening.

  Li Chen eventually took his leave. Once they were alone again, Gao put his arms around her and they stood together in the center of the living room. In their new home.

  “Am I dreaming, Wei-wei?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She pressed closer, finding all the places where they fit together as she leaned into him. “I’m dreaming with you.”