But only if it were proved that Zou Tun consorted with a white woman. And only if that woman were to bear a child.
"Tell me, Shaolin monk," the empress asked. "Is she fertile?"
Zou Tun swallowed, his gaze moving to Joanna. "Yes," he said. It was true. He could see these things.
"Then you will be joined."
Zou Tun looked up at the empress, wondering at the rush of emotions whirling through him. He recognized anger at being forced, and fear of the empress. He also felt surprise and grief at the shame he was about to visit upon his family. But above all was a new terror: What if Joanna refused? What if she had no wish to wed him now? And certainly not in so public a fashion?
But if she agreed, if she said yes, then he could have everything he wanted. He would be free of the insidious corruption that was the Qin imperial court. He would be able to openly practice his religion with the woman of his choice. And he would have Joanna beside him at night, greeting him every morning.
It was too much to ask. Too much to hope for. And yet the empress was not only offering it to him; she was demanding it.
"Kang Zou Tun!" the empress exploded. "Will it be done, or do you die now with your honor intact?"
He lifted his chin, shrugging off the eunuchs' restraint. Straightening to his full height, he drew Joanna up as well, tucking her protectively against his side. Then he gave his answer.
"My honor and my life are in her hands, Empress. We will let Joanna Crane decide."
Benevolence and righteousness, knowledge and intelligence, filial piety and parental kindness, loyal ministers—these concepts all came about after the Tao was forsaken, after simplicity was destroyed. Their presence is an indication of moral bankruptcy, of the degeneration of people's hearts. They are evidence of a regression rather than a progression of society.
~Lao Tzu
Chapter 18
Joanna blinked, startled when everyone in the room turned to stare at her. Despite all attempts, she had been unable to follow the shifting currents within the conversation. All she knew came from guesses about Zou Tun's expression. She knew he wasn't happy. Indeed, she guessed he was becoming very afraid, though all that showed in his face was a quiet resolution. Purpose and faith seemed to surround him in light. It was so bright, she wondered how the others couldn't see it—but they clearly could not. Certainly not the eunuchs who surrounded them, who even now menaced them.
But something had changed in the room. Before, Joanna had been treated as vermin. The eunuchs would have happily slaughtered her, the dowager empress could barely look at her without curling her lip, and even Zou Tun ignored her, his attention on more important matters, though he'd tried his best to keep her shielded from the scarier eunuchs. But now they all stared at her. She heard their gasps, saw the shocked stares, and finally felt the heated touch of Zou Tun pulling her slightly away to look directly into his eyes.
"Zou Tun?"
"Will you marry me, Joanna Crane?"
Joanna's heart constricted painfully in her chest, her eyes tearing from pain. Part of her wanted to leap into Zou Tun's arms. Part of her wanted to sob out in joy and relief at his words. But she didn't. She couldn't. Because his eyes did not show her love or desire. They were flat with fear. And with everyone else's attention riveted upon her, she knew he was being forced to ask, forced by some devious political scheme to pretend a love he did not feel.
She blinked back her tears and took a deep breath, speaking in quiet Shanghainese. "Why do you ask me this? What is going on?"
Zou Tun opened his mouth to answer, but the dowager empress interrupted in Mandarin Chinese, her voice sharp. Joanna saw a flash of irritation cut through Zou Tun's expression, but it was quickly masked as he turned and bowed respectfully, speaking to the imperious lady in a calm tone.
Joanna had no idea what he said, but apparently it worked. The lady huffed in annoyance but did not speak, waving her hand in dismissal. Then she nodded to a eunuch who slipped to the side, opening a doorway in the audience chamber. But the eunuch did not go through. Instead he simply stood there, standing beside the opening that led off into darkness.
Joanna frowned, her gaze slipping back to Zou Tun. "What is happening?"
He swallowed, then began speaking in the Shanghai dialect. His words were low and rushed, as he obviously hoped to get as much said before the empress lost her patience.
"They wish us to marry, Joanna Crane. My father's power grows, but he will lose all support if I openly consort with a white woman." He looked hard at her. "The empress wishes you to bear my child—a boy child if possible. No man will support the general if a half-white grandson might gain the throne."
"But won't your father kill the child?"
"The Empress will protect him and us. As long as we live together, my father will not move against the emperor. Without me to sit on the throne, he has no support."
"So she wants us to marry. And if we refuse?"
He glanced uneasily at the guards. He didn't need to answer.
"They will kill us, won't they?"
He nodded.
"So we have no choice. We will marry." How easy to say the words. How easy to simply take what she wanted and forget the reason, to focus on the fact that she was marrying a great man and ignore the truth that he didn't truly love her. Not in the way a man should truly love his wife and the mother of his children.
He shook his head, clearly frustrated because she didn't fully understand.
"What am I missing? Tell me it all."
He lifted his gaze, pointedly looking at the darkened doorway the guard had just opened. "We must openly consort with each other, Joanna. We must do what wedded people do. There are ministers who will require proof of my"—he swallowed—"my perversion."
She stared at him, her mind temporarily frozen. They had to consort, to make love. Publicly? "In front of witnesses?" she gasped.
He nodded.
"To prove your perversion?"
Again he nodded. "They know of the Tigress religion. They know I have... practiced."
This time she could not stop the tears that flooded her vision. She wasn't sure what she'd expected. She knew the Qin court had no cause to love white people. She also knew that they considered the whites barbarians. Bestial animals. There was no greater perversion for an heir to the imperial throne than to openly embrace a white woman.
Part of her mind embraced these political consequences. She knew that it would only advance the foreign political cause if the imperial heir loved a white woman. Even if that man lived in disgrace for the rest of his life, he would always be an example of unity for their two peoples, of peaceful coexistence between the races.
But she was not a political cause, and he was not a nation. They were two people. Two hearts. And hers was the one in love.
Of course, they would be killed if they didn't comply. They had no choice. They had...
Her eyes narrowed. Zou Tun had once before told her that they had no choice. That they were forced to comply with Shi Po's demands. But he could have escaped then. She looked around. There were a great many eunuchs around, but they were lax in their appearance. Truly, their swords and big fists were impressive, but she doubted they had much true fighting experience. After all, merely the appearance of their threat was likely enough to intimidate most people. Plus, she had seen Zou Tun. She was positive he could fight a path to the door so that they could escape. They could probably still fight their way to see the emperor if he so chose.
So why had he not simply done that? Why was he acting as if he were forced into this marriage? And forced to bed her in so public a fashion.
"Zou Tun, do you wish this? Do you wish us to wed?"
He opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out, only a strangled sound that might have been the "I..." But it didn't matter. She saw the panic in his eyes, the desperation and the fear. And somewhere beneath, something else.
"Don't answer," she whispered. "I can see the truth." He didn't l
ove her. Didn't want to disgrace himself in this fashion.
He gripped her arms, not in a bruising grip, but in the way a man holds the only solid thing in his life. The way her father had held Joanna just after her mother died. The touch held anger and fear, but also love and tenderness in a conflicted mass.
"I will die with honor, Joanna Crane. If that is what you wish."
"Of course I don't want that! I'm trying to find out what you want." She snorted in disgust.
And at the rude sound, the dowager empress lost her patience. With an angry gesture, the eunuchs sprang into action. They drew their swords, and suddenly Joanna and Zou Tun were ushered through the darkened doorway.
Zou Tun did not fight. He went quietly, his only resistance in order to ensure that his body was between the sword points and Joanna. He was protecting her, but since she had no wish to see him skewered, she moved as she was told, walking anxiously down the darkened hallway until they came to...
A bedroom. A glorious sunlit bedroom with elegant tapestries and stunningly beautiful furniture. But most of all it held a large bed with silk sheets and open curtains.
The dowager empress followed, her power obvious in every line of her diminutive body. She was the one in control here, and the eunuchs leaped to follow her next command—to remove the hangings surrounding the bed.
Joanna stared in shock. Did the empress intend to stand in the room while they did the deed? The thought was horrifying—though she supposed no more so than the entire bizarre situation. And still, Joanna had no idea of what Zou Tun thought. What did he want?
He, apparently, didn't want to tell her. His face gave nothing away, even as he watched the eunuchs' progress.
Then they were gone. The guards left, and the dowager stood before them in the imposing bedroom. She said nothing but stared hard at Zou Tun, who in turn stared hard right back at her. It was a standoff. The two glared at each other, eyes hard and cold. Joanna merely watched, unable to understand, much less interfere.
And then, abruptly, Zou Tun dropped to his knees, his forehead pressed to the floor. He spoke to the empress. Joanna had no idea what he was saying. Begging for their lives, perhaps? Pleading with the empress to change her mind?
Whatever he said, it didn't work. The empress merely stared at his prostrate form, then flicked a dismissive glance at Joanna before turning on her heel and leaving. The door shut behind them, and the silence reigned long and horrible.
Joanna looked about the sunlit chamber. There was no escape. Even the windows were covered with beautiful latticework that barred exit. And Joanna was not fooled. She had stood behind a tapestry and seen Little Pearl perform her service. She knew that the room likely concealed dozens of peepholes. Zou Tun had said they would be watched. She had no doubt they were.
She looked at him then, his body still on the floor in his kowtow. Indeed he had not moved since his plea to the empress. Not knowing what else to do, Joanna knelt beside him, reaching out to stroke what she could of his pale cheek.
"What did you say to her just now? What did you say to the dowager empress?"
He raised up, but only enough so that Joanna could see his face. He still looked at the ground. "I told her I was a loyal Manchu. All I have ever wished to do is serve my country with honor." Then he looked at her, his eyes wet with tears, his expression stricken. "I have striven all my life to be an honorable man—one who brought joy to his parents and glory to his country. How is it..."
His words were choked, so Joanna finished them for him.
"How is it that you have come here, been forced to bed a white barbarian to the dishonor of your family and the horror of your emperor?"
He did not answer, but she saw acknowledgment in his face.
"You do not want to marry me. You do not want to bed me." She swallowed, forcing herself to say all her fears. "You do not want to father a half-white child."
"No!" he cried, and the word echoed in the room. He reached for her. "That is my shame, Joanna Crane. I do want those things. I do..." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I do wish to join my body with yours. I have wished it from the very first moment we met. I just did not think... I did not believe... I did not know..."
"What?" she asked.
"That my desires would necessitate such shame."
Her eyes dropped. Her heart fell also. "You are ashamed to be with me."
"No," he said, the word pained. "I have learned how foolish I was. I am honored to be with you. The shame is my father's. My family's. This will destroy them." He lifted her chin, drawing her close enough to press his lips to hers. "No, for me the shame is nothing at all." Then he kissed her, his lips seeking hers with an honesty she had to acknowledge. He desired her. She felt it in the very air they shared.
"But what of marriage, Zou Tun? Do you desire it?"
He didn't speak at first. Instead he stroked her cheek as he struggled. In time he spoke, his words coming out in a halting whisper. "In China there is no such thing as desire. There is only proper and improper, honor and dishonor."
"And what you desire is improper? Dishonorable?" She looked into his eyes, praying he would answer clearly. "Do you desire me?"
Again he kissed her. Deeply, penetratingly, he filled her mouth and soul with his hunger. Her yin tide surged in recognition, even as her heart trembled in despair.
She broke off the kiss. "You desire me, but there is no love, Zou Tun." She didn't know why she was pressing the point. She didn't understand this perverse need to torture herself. They would be killed if they didn't marry. Why did she need to hear him say it, to state out loud for all to hear that he did not love her?
"My father will be here soon." His voice was low, his words rasping. She could tell that he was speaking as much to himself as to her. "The dowager will bring him here. To watch us. To watch me so all will know that his hopes and dreams are ashes." He raised his eyes, letting her see the pain that haunted him. "Do you know what it is for a good Chinese son to shame his father so? Do you know what will happen?"
She shook her head.
"He will kill himself, Joanna. Himself, and my mother who bore me. And my sister who is not yet married. The house will burn. And the servants as well. They will all die because of my shame. Because my father will order it."
She reared back, choking on her horror. Still, he spoke.
"That is the cost, Joanna." He pressed his lips to hers. "That is the cost of my love for you."
She didn't know how to react, didn't know what to say. Her mind was reeling from his words. Could it be true? Could he truly love her? And could his love cost so much? Her mind could not grasp his meaning, could not separate truth from hope, desire from fear.
Looking in his eyes, she saw the same bizarre, twisting confusion in him.
"You love me?" she whispered.
"Yes," he answered, agony in the word.
"You want to marry me? And love me? And raise our children together?"
"Yes. Oh, yes."
"But to do so will mean the death of... of your entire family. Even the servants?"
He nodded, the single slash of his chin more potent than any word.
"Are you sure?" She shook her head in awe. It couldn't be possible that a man would order the death of his entire household because of the choice of one son. "This cannot be true."
Zou Tun closed his eyes, as if hiding from himself, but his voice was clear and firm. "I have never understood my father's choices. Some are political. Some are from fear. But mostly his choices come from ambition and vanity."
She frowned. "You know this?"
His eyes opened with surprise. "Of course."
"And yet you allow him to dictate your actions?"
He frowned, his expression wavering on the edge of true confusion. "My disobedience carries a cost. How can you not understand this?"
She swallowed. She did understand. And yet... "But to kill everyone. Would he truly do such a thing?"
He didn't want to look at her as he ans
wered, but she took hold of his face. She lifted it so that she could read his expression, see the truth in his eyes.
"My father has a great deal of pride," he finally said.
So yes, the general would indeed kill his entire family out of shame.
"But what if you were honorable? What if you performed a great feat, if you did something far beyond—"
"Ruling an empire?"
She nodded. "Yes, something even greater than that. Then he wouldn't be dishonored. He wouldn't kill everyone, would he? He couldn't kill everyone out of shame, could he? He would have to acknowledge your greatness. And there would be no cost. No shame." Her voice dropped to a whisper, her soul barely able to voice her greatest wish. "Then we could live together in honor."
His gaze brightened with hope, but doubt still plagued him. "If you could do such a thing, Joanna Crane, find a way for me to save my family, then you are a far greater prize than I deserve."
She leaned forward, dropping the most tender of kisses upon his lips. "I am no prize, Kang Zou Tun. I am simply a woman who will risk everything for the man I love."
Before he could respond, she stood up, directing her words to the nearest tapestry and the most likely location of peepholes. "Empress Cixi! Empress Cixi, I beg to speak with you! Please, great empress, there is something you must hear."
"What are you doing?" Zou Tun gasped. He too took to his feet. "One does not call for an empress like calling for your boots!"
Joanna sighed, impatient with protocol. They were in desperate straits. Surely the empress would understand. Surely...
The empress did not. She did not appear. Her eunuch appeared, his face contorted with anger, his sword in his hand. Joanna did not give him the chance to speak.
"How dare you treat the immortal Kang Zou Tun this way? China is truly barbaric if it treats its holiest men in such a fashion."
She spoke in Shanghainese, so she doubted the man understood. But no woman could rule an empire without people around her who spoke all languages of her country. One of the empress's eunuchs would speak Shanghainese. One of them would relate her words. And with luck, the empress would be superstitious enough to not risk offending Heaven. She would come investigate the claim. Even if it was the claim of a barbarian woman.
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