Page 78 of A Song to Drown Rivers
Even so. I had been wondering if Goujian would ever appear and thank me in person, but now I thought it was fine that we didn’t meet again at all. Let him have his mountains and lakes, his kingdom and his legacy. I would go to my river in the village, where the water was always cool and sweet, and gaze across the shore for Fanli. My heart reached for him, aching. Not long now. Not long until everything was really over.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
It was the morning after we’d reached the base ofthe mountain and rested in a nearby inn. I’d gone to sleep thinking of Fuchai’s expression as I drove the blade in. I woke up drenched in sweat and shaking. After I changed into a fresh set of robes and stepped down for breakfast, a familiar face rose to greet me by the front doors. It was not the face I most wanted to see, but my heart leaped all the same. Time seemed to bend, and for one sacred moment, I was just the girl in Riversong Cottage again, reliving those warm, bloodless days spent in the haze of the mountain mist, playing the guqin and reciting pretty poetry.
“Luyi,” I cried, forgetting all propriety and running forward to throw my arms around him. He smelled like rust and sea salt, and his skin was warm as summer sand under the sun.
He grinned, hardly caring for how the surrounding soldiers and guests eyed us with faint disapproval. He had grown even taller in the days since we’d parted, his shoulders stronger, his skin a little darker. I’d never had a brother before, but as he patted my backand laughed into my hair, I wondered if this was how it felt. “I hear you’ve been pretty busy. Changing the course of history and all.”
I managed to roll my eyes as I pulled back. “How are you?”
“The same as usual. Subject to Fanli’s irrational requests. He’s been in a dark mood ever since…” He trailed off, hastily covered it up with a smile. “Well, you will see for yourself.”
My gaze flickered to the open door behind him. I could not help myself—even though I already knew he was with Goujian, that during a critical time like this, with the kingdom changing hands between rulers, he would not simply abandon his duties and come find me. Disappointment pinched my gut.
Luyi noticed. “He wishes he were here; you have no idea how badly he does. And he personally asked me to bring you back to Yue. He trusts your safety with nobody else.”
I had been concealing my true feelings for what felt like an eon. I could muster a convincing enough smile in return. “Thank you. Really.”
“No, thank you.” He looked like he meant it. In fact, the raw emotion in his face was almost too much for me to bear.
I cleared my throat, and tugged my cloak higher over my shoulders. “Well, then. When do we depart?”
I did not know what I was expecting when I finally returned to my village. Perhaps that everything would be unrecognizable. Perhaps that nothing would have changed at all.
But the scene that greeted me was beyond anything I could have imagined. Every single house was lit up with bright colored lanterns, like strings of candies. Streamers fluttered from the trees. The paths had been evened out, redesigned and straightened completely; there were no more loose pebbles and mud, just perfect, flatstone. The architecture as a whole looked better, the windows repaired, the doors perfectly fitted on their hinges, the roof tiles new and gleaming.
All the villagers were gathered at the entrance. Dozens of faces crowded together, eyes bright and smiling. A feast had been conjured—seemingly from thin air—with roasted lamb and glazed duck and sweet congee sprinkled with golden osmanthus flakes and goji berries.
“What’s the day? Is there a festival happening?” I wondered aloud to Luyi.
He laughed. “No. It is all for you.”
I stared at the spectacle, the lavish meals, the elaborate decorations, the joyous faces. The village bathed in a warm orange glow. It was beautiful and utterly overwhelming. “For—for me? Why?”
“Why?Incredible. You really haven’t grown much of an ego in the Wu Kingdom, have you?” Luyi said, amused. Then, in a more serious tone, he went on, “The stories have traveled far and wide. They know what you have done, what you have sacrificed. You stopped a war and saved our kingdom. You’re a hero, Xishi.”
A hero.The word sounded strange, like it had nothing to do with me. I did not feel heroic at all. I barely even felt human. I remembered again the sticky heat of Fuchai’s blood on my palms, the weight of Zhengdan’s limp body on my legs, every night passed alone in the dark palace chambers. How long until the memories dimmed? Or would this be another of my sacrifices—that I would carry these ghosts with me for as long as I lived?
Then the crowds surged forward, one by one, reaching out to grab my hand, to seize my arm, just to touch me, as if I had returned transformed into a living legend. I did not so much walk forward as let myself be pushed along by the bodies, passed from one family to the next.
“Thank you…”
“You are so beautiful, Lady Xishi…”
“A hero…”
“You’ve grown so much—my heavens, you have the air of a noblewoman—”
“A royal—”
“We owe our lives to you…”
“I will name my firstborn after you—”
“I will name my seventh-born after you—”
“You’ve saved us all—”
