Jain

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https://douqi.blog/2025/09/28/to-embers-we-return-chapter-26/

http://douqi.blog/?p=5456

To Embers We Return — Chapter 26

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***

When Shen Ni opened her eyes again, Bian Jin was no longer touching her.

‘That feels so much better,’ said Shen Ni, taking the little bottle from Bian Jin and turning it over to look at the label. ‘This brand is hard to get hold of, too. Thank you.’ Her rosy fingers curved gently over its crystalline surface as she spun it slowly round and round, caressing it as if it were some cherished object.

Bian Jin did not respond directly. All she said was, ‘Now that you’re feeling better, you should have something to eat.’

‘Yes, I will.’

It wasn’t Bian Jin’s imagination — Shen Ni really was unusually docile and well-behaved tonight. She even ate all her spinach without needing to be cajoled into it.

After she’d finished her meal, Shen Ni went off to rinse her mouth. By the time she returned, Bian Jin was toying once again with the little jar of lip-rouge in the pocket of her sleeve. She said tentatively, ‘I hear some of Prince Wei’s men saw me pushing you away outside the Information Services Bureau after the battle the other day, and he and his supporters intend to use that as an excuse to make a formal indictment against you at court.’

Shen Ni dabbed some stray droplets of water from her mouth with a handkerchief. ‘Did Qingluo tell you that?’

Bian Jin recounted to Shen Ni the visit she and Zeng Qingluo had paid Diwu Que and He Lanzhuo earlier that day. Naturally, she omitted the part where she’d mistaken the love-bite on Diwu Que’s neck for a genuine injury.

‘I hadn’t wanted to trouble you about so trivial a matter,’ said Shen Ni. She extracted a recording from her memory module, then projected it onto the screen which was stretched across one wall of the workshop.

‘Two hours ago, Li Ruoyuan held an assembly of ministers. We were originally meant to attend in person, but as she was unwell, she decided to hold court online instead. That was when Prince Wei decided to launch his attack against me. There were a few other matters of interest as well, but — here, shijie, take a look.’

The memory had been recorded from Shen Ni’s point of view, so the events playing out on the screen were exactly as she had seen them.

The contents stored in one’s memory module were, of course, extremely personal in nature. Even though there might be nothing particularly scandalous or unseemly about them, most people did not share those images lightly — only where it was absolutely necessary, such as when Shen Ni had shown her memory of Liu Ji’s death to Li Ruoyuan. If they did choose to share them, it would usually be with their closest, most trusted family members and friends.

Shen Ni had an excellent organic memory. She remembered down to the minute when the online assembly had started, so she was able to replay that exact section of the recording from her memory module.

The meeting had been rendered as a full holographic simulation. The top half of Shen Ni was dressed very properly and formally in her ministerial robes and futou. The simulation had captured that and used it as the basis for modelling the rest of her appearance, so she had not bothered much with the bottom half of her clothing. From the waist down, she was still clad in the under-trousers she’d worn to bed the night before, and her feet were tucked only loosely into her shoes, her heels resting casually on their backs.

Shen Ni disinfected the most comfortable sofa in the whole workshop for Bian Jin to sit on. As the ministers began filing into the holographic throne room in the projection, Shen Ni explained, ‘It is now absolutely certain that the Black Box virus is beginning to spread through the capital. The proposal I put forward at court was that we should finalise our plans for protecting the city, then disclose the Black Box’s presence to the public. Not everyone will have the means to defend themselves from it, but they can at least make their preparations, knowing the full extent of the danger they face. Prince Wei’s faction, however, claimed that such a move would only cause mass unrest across the city. Their preferred plan was to keep the truth hidden from the public for as long as possible, while hunting down and eliminating instances of the Black Box in secret.’

‘What did Li Ruoyuan say?’

‘Li Ruoyuan means to pursue a scheme that’s halfway between the two: to let slip some whispers of the truth to the public, while secretly tracking down and getting rid of all traces of the virus we’re able to find.’

Bian Jin smiled grimly. ‘As I would expect.’

‘I know we haven’t had the chance to discuss the matter of the box jellyfish yet,’ Shen Ni went on, ‘but I’m sure you must have realised that they are inextricably connected to the Black Box. But those jellyfish weren’t the first creatures in Chang’an to fall prey to the virus. There was a victim before that — a man named Liu Ji, who owned a florist’s shop. I happened to be passing by in time to see his corpse mutating.’

At the mention of ‘florist’s shop’, Bian Jin deduced instantly that this must be where the ice-blue cereus flowers had come from. Shen Ni had still not acknowledged that she’d bought them especially for Bian Jin.

‘It’s still unclear how Liu Ji managed to bring the virus with him into Chang’an,’ said Shen Ni. ‘But Li Ruoyuan had already agreed to the execution of Liu Ji’s entire household, in order to eliminate any future risks to the safety of the capital.’

Bian Jin’s expression, Shen Ni realised, had not changed.

To make the projection appear clearer and sharper, Shen Ni had turned off the overhead light. In the now-darkened room, Bian Jin’s features were bathed in the cool glow from the screen, making it seem as though she were encased in a false, metallic shell.

Bian Jin had passed no judgment on Li Ruoyuan’s decision, but Shen Ni’s next words caught her somewhat by surprise.

‘But Liu Ji’s household wasn’t executed after all,’ Shen Ni went on. ‘This morning, they were escorted from the city by a battalion from the Southern Garrison, who meant to bring them to the buffer zone in order to carry out the sentence. On their way there, however, they were intercepted, and Liu Ji’s whole household was whisked away by some unknown rescuer. We still have no idea where they are.’

‘Rescued? How many people in Liu Ji’s household were sentenced?’

‘Fifty-three.’

‘Given the gravity of the situation,’ said Bian Jin thoughtfully, ‘their escort must have been more than a hundred soldiers strong, all of them skilled combatants. Who could have carried off over fifty prisoners without leaving a trace of their identity behind?’

‘The Ruifeng Battalion was the one in charge of the prisoners. They’re a subdivision of the Jinwu Guards, consisting of two hundred and twenty soldiers. Every single one of them was found dead in the buffer zone some three miles from the city’s northwestern gate. The Ruifeng Battalion was one of the most elite units within the Jinwu Guards, so that could only have been done by a yinglong-level mutant beast or higher, or…’

Shen Ni spoke the next words very slowly. ‘…or a warrior among warriors.’

Bian Jin seemed lost in thought. There was a stern, forbidding edge to her demeanour. Shen Ni gazed covertly at her until Li Chu’s irritable tones broke into her consciousness.

On the screen, Li Chu took a step forward and addressed Li Ruoyuan’s indistinct form, which was just visible through the curtains that had been hung behind the throne. In a clear voice he said, ‘The sixteen companies of the Southern Garrison consist of the most elite soldiers in the realm. This is especially the case with the Ruifeng Battalion, which has shouldered the burden of defending our imperial capital and its people for many years, and discharged their duties honorably and well. But even the most elite of troops are still mortal flesh and blood, and the Ruifeng Battalion was tragically wiped out by ambush. Whoever did this came well-prepared. They might even be linked to the Black Box virus, traces of which were found inside Liu Ji’s body. I trust that Your Majesty will take a fair view of this matter, particularly as to how the virus was able to make its way into our city, and how its presence was so coincidentally discovered.’

Li Chu emphasised the word ‘coincidentally’. When he stopped speaking, his wolflike eyes shot a sharp, hateful look at Shen Ni from above his respectfully cupped hands.

The memory had been recorded from Shen Ni’s point of view, so Bian Jin, who was watching it, caught the full force of Li Chu’s glare. She blinked. ‘Why does Li Chu seem so agitated?’

Shen Ni gave her a look. So her shijie had been distracted just now too.

‘I’d just told him there must be a spy within the Ruifeng Battalion, who passed on word of their plans and whereabouts to whoever rescued Liu Ji’s household. That threw him into a rage.’

Bian Jin was silent for a few moments. No wonder Li Chu was fuming; Shen Ni’s remarks had stabbed right at his sore spot.

‘It’s obvious, isn’t it?’ Shen Ni went on. ‘Li Chu and his faction petitioned the emperor for the execution of Liu Ji’s entire household, and after Li Ruoyuan granted the order, it was the Ruifeng Battalion themselves who took custody of the prisoners. As for when exactly they planned to escort the prisoners from the city, which gate they intended to leave by, where they were going — all that was decided in secret, so only the Ruifeng Battalion themselves knew. Yet now they all lie dead in the buffer zone. The only reasonable explanation is that they were betrayed by a spy. I was considerate enough to point this out to Prince Wei, but his response was to insinuate that I had something to do with the Black Box’s presence inside Chang’an. What an ungrateful wretch!’

Bian Jin had Shen Ni rewind the recording back to the point when she was speaking. In the projection, Shen Ni made her representations in a dignified, unhurried manner, with an air of maturity and wisdom that far belied her youth. Yet just now, when she’d been recounting the same speech to Bian Jin in person, she’d been full of undisguised indignation, like a little girl carrying a grievance to her guardian. Outsiders would no doubt be surprised to learn that the great Marquess Jing’an, whose very name inspired awe in the hearts of those who heard it, had no compunctions about letting her inner child roam free in front of her shijie.

Being unwell, Li Ruoyuan had dispensed with a full hologram.  From behind the curtains came her feeble, childish voice. ‘I will have the matter of the Ruifeng Battalion’s deaths thoroughly investigated, in order that I can provide a satisfactory account to you, Prince Wei.’

When he heard those words, Li Chu’s cupped hands shook a little, and he replied hastily, ‘Y-you have my th-thanks, Your Majesty. The souls of the Ruifeng troops who served you so loyally and well will no doubt be grateful, as will the families they’ve left behind.’

At this point, the focus of the recording sharpened to a single point — Li Chu’s trembling hands. Everything else in the memory became slightly blurred, showing that Shen Ni’s gaze had been fixed on that particular detail at the time. A few moments later, the focus shifted to Li Chu’s face. His downcast eyes were flickering restlessly back and forth.

In the workshop, the real Shen Ni brought a thoughtful finger to her lips. No wonder people hated disclosing the contents of their memory modules. The viewer could see exactly what one had been focusing on at any given point; there was simply no way of hiding what was going on in one’s head. It did make one feel rather vulnerable.

‘Li Ruoyuan has always disliked Li Chu’s habit of cultivating supporters who are personally loyal to him,’ said Bian Jin, ‘and she especially looks askance at his close links to some of the companies within the Southern Garrison. When you goaded him into that rather rash display of emotion, it brought his connections to the Southern Garrison into the light. It was only when Li Ruoyuan told him she would give him full satisfaction in the matter that he realised he’d misspoken, but it was far too late to take it back. That was cleverly done indeed, shimei.’

Bian Jin was right. Shen Ni detested Li Chu, so she tried to trip him up at every opportunity she got. She was reluctant to acknowledge that she was deliberately trying to make his life difficult. The very notion, she felt, gave him far more credit than he deserved. He’d brought it all on himself anyway, with his foolishness and recklessness. At Bian Jin’s praise, however, a warm glow of accomplishment settled over Shen Ni. She squirreled away the words ‘cleverly done’ into the recesses of her heart.

In the projection, Shen Ni’s gaze flitted now and again to the shadowy outlines of Li Ruoyuan’s figure behind the curtains, as if she were pondering something.

‘Shimei, don’t you feel that there is something very odd about the deaths of the Ruifeng Battalion?’ asked Bian Jin.

Shen Ni nodded. ‘Of all the units within the Southern Garrison, the Ruifeng Battalion had the fiercest fighters — and the closest ties to Li Chu. Their captain owed his position to Li Chu’s influence. If I were Li Ruoyuan, the Ruifeng Battalion would be a constant thorn in my side. I’d find it necessary to get rid of them, but not openly. This would have been the perfect opportunity. Perhaps whoever eliminated the Ruifeng Battalion was one of Li Ruoyuan’s agents.

‘Once the entire battalion had been decimated, that would give Li Ruoyuan the chance to assemble it afresh — and this time, the choice of who was to lead it, and who should be enlisted in it, would no longer be up to Li Chu. Li Ruoyuan would be able to place her own trusted agents within the ranks of the Southern Garrison, and they in turn would be able to identify and dismantle Li Chu’s network of supporters from within.

‘This would also give Li Ruoyuan full control over the fates of Liu Ji’s household. Whether she chose to have them executed or to spare their lives, she could keep them hidden from the eyes of the public forever. Once she’s stopped their mouths, one way or another, there’s nothing to prevent her from announcing that she’s had them relocated safely elsewhere, further cementing her image as a benevolent monarch in the hearts and minds of the people. In one fell swoop, she’d be able to enhance her own reputation while quashing Li Chu’s faction and playing him and me off against each other, killing several birds with one stone.’

Shen Ni’s analysis of the situation was thorough and incisive. Bian Jin watched her with silent admiration.

‘Next comes the indictment,’ Shen Ni added.

In the projection, Li Chu was clearly shaken by Li Ruoyuan’s pointed words. A high-ranking official on the other side of the holographic throne room shot him a meaningful glance, indicating that he should let the matter drop.

Li Chu quickly collected himself, and launched into his indictment against Shen Ni. He claimed that Shen Ni had shown complete disdain for the match which the emperor had bestowed on her, and was estranged from her new wife. Why, the two of them had even been seen coming to blows in public! This was clear contempt for the emperor’s wishes. If these two women were allowed to carry on disrespecting the emperor’s will in this way, he went on, it would be the ultimate insult to Her Majesty’s honour. This behaviour needed to be contained swiftly lest it trickle down to the masses, setting a most evil precedent.

From behind the curtain, Li Ruoyuan let out a long sigh. ‘Shen Ni, my dear minister, are your dissatisfied with this marriage?’

No matter how mild her tone was, Shen Ni was fully conscious of the seriousness of the question. She bowed and said in grave, earnest tones, ‘On the contrary, Your Majesty. I cherish this honour you have granted me most deeply.’

‘Oh?’ said Li Ruoyuan. ‘And here I thought you resented it, given that the marriage remains unconsummated.’

Inside the workshop, Bian Jin turned and looked at Shen Ni. ‘Li Ruoyuan sounds so certain — not as if she’s merely probing or testing you.’

‘You and I have spent all these years on the front lines, so our roots within Chang’an are still relatively shallow,’ said Shen Ni. ‘Other than Auntie Wan, all of our servants were chosen by Li Ruoyuan herself. This household must be as leaky as a grain sieve by now. Even the smallest of incidents will have been reported to her by her spies. The show we put on during our wedding night could only have pulled the wool over their eyes for a short while. Our daily interactions — or lack of them — since then will have been enough to give them the true picture.’

In the projection, Li Ruoyuan interjected forcefully into the midst of Shen Ni’s denials. ‘I hear you and Bian Jin still hold unresolved grudges against each other. But remember, Shen Ni, I decreed this match between the two of you, and if you continue to have so little regard for my wishes, I will have no choice but to mete out a suitable punishment.’

‘As Your Majesty commands,’ said Shen Ni.

Li Ruoyuan’s voice returned to its usual mildness. ‘Now that you and Bian Jin are wed, you should strive to live in matrimonial harmony. I hope I will hear no more accusations of discord between you and Bian Jin, my dear minister.’

Shen Ni murmured her assent. Inwardly, she reflected on how absurd the whole situation was. She was the one who had sought out the match in the first place, to thwart Li Chu’s sordid little scheme of taking Bian Jin as his concubine — and, as she’d told Li Ruoyuan, to carry out her ‘covert investigation’ into Bian Jin’s supposed ‘treason’. Now, however, Li Ruoyuan was using it a stick to beat her with.

Shen Ni’s star had risen so high that it threatened to eclipse Li Ruoyuan’s, while Li Chu had spent years cultivating his own coterie of supporters at court. Li Ruoyuan, who was known for mild demeanour, had never before shown them her teeth. Instead, she’d bided her time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to come along. In the meantime, she’d allowed Shen Ni and Li Chu to clash time and again, playing them off against each other.

Li Chu’s accusation and Li Ruoyuan’s response to it left Bian Jin feeling rather at a loss. ‘I only gave you a small push, but now they’re claiming that we came to blows?’ 

‘It’s completely ridiculous,’ Shen Ni agreed. Inwardly she thought: That’s right — you, my oh-so-guilty shijie, perpetrated that absolutely heinous act of domestic violence unilaterally on poor innocent me. I never even laid a finger on you!

Now that they were on the subject, Shen Ni decided she might as well ask why Bian Jin had pushed her away so suddenly at the time. Before she could, however, the online assembly ended. The holographic throne room faded from view, to be replaced by Shen Ni’s workshop. In the projection, Shen Ni leaned back in her chair. Her gaze travelled downwards to the rensheng Bian Jin had made for her, still hanging from her belt. She gave it an affectionate little pat.

Fortunately, Bian Jin had been speaking to Shen Ni, so she was not looking at the screen. Shen Ni terminated the projection hastily. That was close, she thought. I’m never going to show anyone anything from my memory module ever again.

Shen Ni was inwardly rejoicing over her good luck when Bian Jin suddenly leaned closer to her and asked, ‘What are your thoughts on the matter?’

‘Hm?’ said Shen Ni.

‘On the matter of the indictment,’ said Bian Jin. A beam from the overhead lamp had fallen across her eyes, making them seem even brighter and clearer.

Shen Ni’s breath caught for a moment. She crooked a forefinger and placed a knuckle just beneath her lips, as she often did whenever she was thinking.

‘Li Chu came prepared for a fight this time, so I fear he won’t be easy to dissuade. If he were to bring this matter before the censorate, that would make things very difficult for us. Do you have a possible counter-measure in mind, shijie?’

Shen Ni had thought the question would give Bian Jin pause, but unexpectedly, Bian Jin seemed to settle on a plan after only a few moments. 

‘Lend me your lip-rouge,’ she told Shen Ni.

‘Lip-rouge?’ Shen Ni echoed.

There was a dressing-table in a corner of the workshop. Shen Ni had had it placed there for the sake of convenience, and so that she wouldn’t have to disturb Bian Jin when the latter was in their bedchamber. As she went towards it, Bian Jin added, ‘Bring me the shade you usually wear — the cherry-pink one.’

Shen Ni paused in the act of opening her dressing-case. So shijie knows which shade I use most often.

She retrieved the small, oval jar, and turned to see Bian Jin quietly plucking off her gloves. Those hands which so rarely saw the light of day were fair and slender, and her skin was as softly luminous as jade. They contrasted sharply with the thick, brown leather gloves that had enveloped them. The lamplight reflected off the backs of her hands like the sun on water.

The sight took Shen Ni aback. It was only with great difficulty that she was able to shift her gaze away from Bian Jin’s naked hands.

‘Here.’ Bian Jin held out her hand for the lip-rouge — her right hand.

Shen Ni gave her the little jar. Denuded of the gloves, Bian Jin’s hands seemed delicate and fragile, almost breakable. Lightly she twisted the red lid open, and dipped two fingers into its cherry-pink contents. Then, turning to face the mirror, she tilted her head to one side and ran those fingers across the soft skin of her neck, leaving two faint streaks of colour behind.

Shen Ni finally realised what she was doing. ‘Shijie, are you trying to make it seem as if we’ve been intimate with each other, the better to convince onlookers that we really are a loving couple?’

At that very frank question, Bian Jin glanced at Shen Ni over her shoulder. ‘And is there something wrong with that?’

Shen Ni stepped closer to her. ‘Not as such,’ she said. ‘It’s just that those marks don’t look much like love-bites. Anyone who bothered to look could tell that they’d been smeared on by hand.’

Shimei truly is an expert in such matters, Bian Jin reflected. Out loud, she said, ‘Then what should we do?’

She looked at the pair of them in the mirror. Herself, cool and reserved; Shen Ni, standing just behind her, all seductive charm. There was a small gap between the two of them, but in the reflection, they seemed to be leaning suggestively close to each other.

With seeming artlessness, and as solemnly as if she were speaking to the emperor before the whole court, Shen Ni explained, ‘It should be a real love-bite. No one would be able to see through that.’

Bian Jin was silent for a moment or two. Then she said, ‘I’m ticklish. Especially there.’

Shen Ni had not been expecting her to say yes in the first place — and found herself rather grateful that Bian Jin had chosen ticklishness as her excuse, rather than her phobia of dirt.

‘If the mark is somewhere less obvious,’ she said, ‘then it doesn’t matter so much if it’s not… completely authentic.’

‘How much less obvious?’ asked Bian Jin.

Shen Ni took the jar from her and scooped up a tiny bit of lip-rouge with two fingers. Then she put the jar down and took another step forward. The soft curve of her breasts brushed against Bian Jin’s shoulder blades, and Bian Jin could feel the heat of Shen Ni’s body against her back. That last sliver of physical distance between them had vanished. Bian Jin could smell temple tea and pear-blossom, blended into a complex fragrance that belonged to Shen Ni alone.

‘Shijie, tilt your head back,’ Shen Ni whispered. Her voice echoed in Bian Jin’s ears, overlapping with those words from the dream she so desperately wanted to forget: Open up, shijie… Yes, there’s a good girl…

Heat roiled in Bian Jin’s chest. With a monumental effort, she managed to keep her breathing under control, stopping it from growing any rougher.

In the mirror, she watched herself tilt her head back. The delicate curve of her neck emerged gracefully from her tightly-fastened collar; it shifted restlessly as she swallowed once, then again.

On the battlefield, this would have been a highly dangerous move. Had she ever left such a fatal spot exposed to the enemy, she would almost certainly have been killed in an instant. Even now, it made her feel deeply vulnerable. 

Vulnerability or not, Shen Ni seemed dissatisfied with her pose. She asked Bian Jin to hold her head at a another angle. Somewhat mystified, Bian Jin complied

‘That’s not right either,’ said Shen Ni, and Bian Jin turned her head back to its original position.

‘That’s it,’ said Shen Ni. ‘Don’t move.’

Not wanting to lose this perfect angle, she reached out and cupped Bian Jin’s chin firmly in one hand, preventing her from moving any further. Bian Jin felt tiny, dense pinpricks of heat gathering slowly where Shen Ni was touching her. Because all of Shen Ni’s attention was on Bian Jin’s throat, she did not notice that her shijie’s eyes were beginning to darken, nor that her slender earlobes were flushed as scarlet as if she had been drinking.

Once again, Bian Jin’s movements were now fully under Shen Ni’s control. But to her, this felt very different from the last time, when she’d been cuffed to the top of the workbench. Then, she had been filled with anger and shame. But now, because Shen Ni was touching such a very small part of her skin, a sense of yearning was welling up in her consciousness, leaving her profoundly unfulfilled; there was a strange hollow sensation deep inside her. Not wanting Shen Ni to suspect that anything might be out of the ordinary, she forced herself to repress the shivers that were threatening to spread through her body.

Bian Jin was now absolutely certain that some unknown aberration must have occurred when Shen Ni was fixing her. It was the only thing that could explain this heightened sensitivity she’d developed towards Shen Ni’s touch.

Shen Ni, meanwhile, had no idea of the turmoil that was seething within Bian Jin. She ran her rouge-stained fingers from the base of Bian Jin’s throat to just under her chin, leaving a cool, slightly sticky sensation in her wake. There was now a smear of cherry-pink on Bian Jin’s neck, half-hidden by the line of her jaw.

That dragonfly-light touch roused a series of thrills at the base of Bian Jin’s spine. Her hands, which had been resting on Shen Ni’s dressing-case, gripped its sandalwood surface even harder. A strange moisture was beginning to well up in the palms of her hands. 

Shen Ni’s chin hung over Bian Jin’s shoulder as she scrutinised her handiwork in the mirror. She said critically, ‘Most of that mark will be hidden whenever you look down, but some of it should still be visible. That only makes it look more real.’

The growing heat and wetness in a particular part of Bian Jin’s body was making her both uncomfortable and embarrassed. She made an effort at collecting herself. She hadn’t quite managed to do what she’d set out to do, but that didn’t really matter now.

‘That should be enough to pass muster,’ she told Shen Ni. ‘I’ll be going now.’ 

She had just moved towards the door when Shen Ni hooked a finger through her sash. ‘Aren’t you going to leave me one too, shijie?’

Bian Jin looked over her shoulder, startled. 

Shen Ni was turning the little jar of lip-rouge round and round in the rosy tips of her fingers. She had been looking down at the dressing-table before; now, she glanced up alluringly through her eyelashes. She turned her face slightly to one side, revealing her flawless, snow-fair throat.

‘I’m not ticklish,’ she said.

***

Author’s Note:

Why Yes, I Do Want to Get Up Close and Personal with My Aloof, Distant, Mysophobic Shijie (v 2.0)

***

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https://douqi.blog/2025/09/28/to-embers-we-return-chapter-26/

http://douqi.blog/?p=5456