Song of the Spring Moon Waning (8 page)

The small noises Liu Yi made as he moved around the room faded into the distance, and Wen Yu sank into the job at hand where nothing existed except for the page in front of him and the words he could not yet read.

The cup of tea went cold at his elbow, and the page of notes became a stack. The moon rose into the sky as the hours passed, and when she stopped casting light through the window, Wen Yu stood and stretched.

"Do you need something?" Liu Yi stood from where he'd been dozing among a pile of silk pillows.

"Help me move the desk out into the courtyard," Wen Yu said, and Liu Yi went to fetch a lantern so they would have light to work by. Together, they moved the desk and papers out into the courtyard, and Liu Yi fetched a mat for Wen Yu to kneel on.

Wen Yu settled himself at the desk and opened the poems again, sinking back into his work, and Liu Yi went back into his apartment.

The sky was beginning to be tinged with pink and gray around the edges when the door opened behind Wen Yu, footsteps approaching from behind him. He looked up to see Liu Yi, carrying a brocade jacket over one arm. He bent and draped the jacket over Wen Yu's shoulders.

"You must be cold."

"You should have gone to bed." Wen Yu set aside his brush and reached up to massage a crick in his neck. "I'll be stopping soon, anyway."

"How is the translation going?" Liu Yi knelt on the ground, and Wen Yu shifted on the mat so Liu Yi could also kneel there. Liu Yi's robes were now a little rumpled from sleep while his hair still fell loose around his shoulders and down his back to his waist.

"It's going well, I think, although I am not nearly done." Wen Yu looked away, across the courtyard to the gate, where the guards stood silently facing the street. "I'll be back tonight to continue it."

Crickets sang from the grass that grew in the cracks between the stone tiles of the courtyard and the palace wall. The sky was becoming lighter now, the moonlight almost completely faded. On the desk, the books of poetry had gone blank.

Wen Yu stood and stretched his arms over his head, bending at the waist to work the stiffness from his back. "I will see you this evening, then."

"Study well today." Liu Yi stood, and when Wen Yu moved to take the coat off and hand it back, he shook his head. "Keep it." He took a step forward so that he and Wen Yu were standing close and leaned in. There was a long, heart-stopping moment when Wen Yu, once again, thought that Liu Yi was about to kiss him. Instead, Liu Yi shook his head once, leaning back and giving him a small smile, then turned back to his rooms.

Wen Yu turned towards the gate, trying to quiet his pulse and pull his wits together. All he could think about as he passed by the guard and onto the street was the sweet scent of Liu Yi's hair and how soft his skin looked. Wen Yu found he wanted to taste it so badly that it made his hands shake. He stomped down on the feeling. He could not do that, not now, not ever.

*~*~*

Wen Yu spent the day not really concentrating on his work, though he tried not to think of Liu Yi or the poetry. He found himself thinking about what he'd do when he had the poems in front of him again, trying this or that to see if he could crack the language they were written in. He would jerk his mind away from the poems and concentrate on military strategy for a few moments, but his mind would drift back to Liu Yi's loose hair and the way it drifted in a dark veil around his face. Liu Yi's features were fine, almost delicate, his face surprisingly almond-shaped up close. Wen Yu wanted to kiss those small pink lips.

Shaking his head, Wen Yu tried to bring his attention back to his studies only to have it drift away again. He found himself pulling on his good robes as the sky began to turn the orange-red of dusk outside his window. Wondering if he should bring something with him this time, he headed out into the street. Unfortunately, he couldn't find anything in the shops that he could both afford and transport easily to Liu Yi's rooms.

The two guards from the last afternoon were at the gate when Wen Yu got there, and Wen Yu glared at them as they let him in. Luckily, they didn't make any comments as Wen Yu headed towards Liu Yi's rooms. Liu Yi opened the door before Wen Yu knocked. He smiled at Wen Yu, slow and sweet, then stood back so Wen Yu could enter.

"Come in. I have tangyuan and tea I thought we could share."

The low table at the center of the room was set with tea and the rice flour sweets in a bowl of ginger syrup. Wen Yu sat at the table without really seeing any of it. Liu Yi settled on the other side, his hair falling loose around him again, and Wen Yu couldn't tear his eyes away.

Liu Yi reached for the teapot, pouring them both tea, and Wen Yu made himself look down and scoop one of the sweet little dumplings into a smaller bowl. He served Liu Yi too, passing the bowl to him and taking the cup of tea Liu Yi offered.

"Thank you," Wen Yu said when his tangyuan was eaten and tea drunk. "It was delicious."

"I'm glad." Liu Yi reached his hand out across the table, letting his fingers touch the back of Wen Yu's hand, and Wen Yu did not pull away.

Liu Yi hesitated for a moment, then set aside his cup and crawled around the table to kneel next to Wen Yu. Wen Yu watched as Liu Yi leaned in close. Twice now he'd thought Liu Yi was about to kiss him and been wrong, so when Liu Yi's lips pressed against his own, it took Wen Yu completely by surprise. Liu Yi's lips were soft and plump, and they tasted of ginger, tea, and sweetness. Wen Yu's eyes slid shut and he leaned in, his own lips pressing more forcefully against Liu Yi's, chasing that taste. Liu Yi let out a small noise and pushed himself close, lips growing bolder and more insistent.

"I'm sorry." Wen Yu finally pulled himself away, scooting back before standing to make sure he didn't give into temptation again. "I'm so sorry. I can't … I just can't."

"Why?" Liu Yi still knelt on the floor, robes pooled around him, hair falling like a curtain around his shoulders.

"I just can't." Wen Yu shook his head, feeling truly miserable, because never in his life had he wanted something more than he wanted to continue to kissing.

"I want you," Liu Yi said plainly. "You are the handsomest man I have ever met. I thought so the first time I saw you, with such fine, strange features. And so brilliant, too. It's a miracle you're not married."

From where he stood, Wen Yu watched his features cloud.

"But you don't want me." Liu Yi said it not as a question, but as a sudden realization. "It's because I am cut, isn't it?" Liu Yi seemed to crumple in on himself at that, head lowering and arms pulling inward to wrap tight around his chest.

"No." Wen Yu knelt on the floor again. "I think you're lovely." He reached to touch his face, running his fingers along one fine-boned cheek, and Liu Yi finally raised his head enough to meet Wen Yu's eyes. "It's not you." He moved closer, barely realizing what he was doing. Liu Yi was warm under Wen Yu's hand, his body radiating heat. Wen Yu wanted to press against him, taste those sweet lips, and know what Liu Yi looked like under those layers of fine silk. "You are so lovely," he said again, only half aware that they were so close to kissing that he could feel Liu Yi's breath against his lips. He jerked away, then moved back from Liu Yi so he would not be tempted again.

"I can't."

"You keep saying that, but you won't tell me why." Liu Yi grabbed Wen Yu's sleeve before he could move further away.

"My family's honor, my future, everything rests on this." The full weight of what he was going to do, walk away from Liu Yi—possibly forever—and never know what Liu Yi looked like bare, what he sounded like in passion, never see his sweet smiles again, slammed into Wen Yu.

Liu Yi didn't let go of his sleeve. "Please ..."

Fear mixed with the faintest glimmer of hope gripped Wen Yu. He wanted to tell Liu Yi, he realized. He wanted to say it aloud and discover that it changed nothing. At the same time, he was terrified it would change everything, that his future and his happiness would come crashing down. Would Liu Yi look at him differently, would he hate him?

Wen Yu knelt next to Liu Yi. "Swear to me," he said. "Swear to me on your family's honor, on your loyalty to the emperor, that you'll never tell anyone this."

Liu Yi stared at him, eyes going wide, but he nodded. "I …" He licked his lips. "I swear."

Wen Yu sucked in a long breath, then started talking. "My father never made it past the local examination, but it was his dream that one day his son would pass the examination at the Imperial Palace. His first wife had only daughters, no matter what they did or how hard they prayed. So he took a second wife, but she had only daughters too.

"Out of desperation, my father took one of his daughters and made her his only son. He hired the best tutors for him and made his life about studying for the examinations. He was the youngest person ever to pass at the local level, the second youngest to enter the district examinations. He passed and ranked highly in all of them, including ranking first in the provincial exam."

It seemed strange to say the last bit; these days it was hard for him to remember that he was a first-placed scholar, especially here in the capital where he was simply one more student studying for the Palace Examination. "And always," he said softly, "the family safeguarded their secret. That their son had been born a girl."

Going silent, Wen Yu waited, wary and watchful for Liu Yi's reaction.

Liu Yi watched him for a long moment. "And what about you?" he asked finally, tone carefully neutral, expression guarded in a way that made Wen Yu's hands shake and sweat bead along his spine. "What do you think of this secret?"

Wen Yu shrugged. To him, this was the least complicated part of the entire matter. "I am my father's only son," he said. "I have always been. I always will be."

Liu Yi licked his lips again. "All right." He leaned forward to brush his fingers against Wen Yu's face, who scarcely managed not to flinch away in shock.

"What?"

"It doesn't really change anything," Liu Yi said. "You are still the man I want." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Or did you think I would hold your body against you? Because of what may be between your legs?" Liu Yi gave a sharp bitter laugh. "How could I? Besides, you are obviously well-balanced in wu and wen."

"I … I don't know," Wen Yu fumbled. He hadn't thought past the sick dread of Liu Yi's disgust to consider that he might react positively. "I don't know that I thought anything at all."

Liu Yi smiled then. "I don't hold it against you. It would be hardly my place to do so, me being in no position to dictate what makes a man."

"I suppose not." Wen Yu leaned into Liu Yi's touches, feeling lightheaded and a little like he was floating.

He had told someone his father's secret, and the world had not stopped turning. More than that, Liu Yi had not flinched away from him, still wanted him. Relief and hope hit him harder than the anxiety had, and he leaned his head against Liu Yi's shoulder.

More than being disqualified from taking the examination, barred from scholarship and disgraced, he'd feared that if he told anyone they would see him as his father saw him. His father saw him as a girl in hiding, the shameful price he'd had to pay for not having a 'real' son. Wen Yu had been so afraid that anyone he told would not see it as he saw it—that he was a man and always had been.

"Are you going to finish translating the poems?" Liu Yi carded his fingers through Wen Yu's hair where it was escaping from his topknot. "Or are you just going to take me to bed now?"

It was so temping. Wen Yu still felt shaky and slightly ill with nerves from their conversation. The fear was starting to recede, replaced with a growing sense of relief, but he still felt as if he'd run miles without pause. As beautiful as Liu Yi was, Wen Yu didn't think he could get aroused or be intimate with anyone right now. He didn't know how to tell Liu Yi that, though. Glancing around them, his eyes fell on the writing desk.

Scholarship was familiar, safe.

"No, I need to finish translating those poems." Wen Yu made to push himself up.

"I could make an argument that you need to take me to bed," Liu Yi said, and when Wen Yu looked back at him, he was smiling.

"If we did that before I was done with the translation, then I wouldn't be able to concentrate. It's the scholar's curse."

"I could find ways to make you concentrate."

Wen Yu blushed, and Liu Yi grinned but didn't stop him as he got to his feet and headed for the writing table. Everything was as he'd left it, save for the fact that the table had been moved back inside over by the window.

"I wonder if we should just move it out to the courtyard to begin with and save us the trouble of having to do it later." Liu Yi came over to stand by him.

"That's a good idea." Wen Yu gathered the books and papers off the table, then took one end of the desk while Liu Yi took the other.

The guards watched them with a mixture of confusion and interest as they moved the desk and set it back up with papers, ink, and brushes. Wen Yu knelt in front of it and opened the books, watching as the words appeared on the pages. Liu Yi watched him for a minute until he turned and walking back towards his rooms. Reviewing his notes, Wen Yu sank back into the space where the words of the poems on the page were the only things that mattered.