Rising Phoenix

Hua Qiong leaned over and clutched Liu Mudan, grabbing her tightly as she said: “I’ll trouble the Dowager Queen to escort me back.”

Liu Mudan paused, her eyes flicking over to Feng Zhiwei as she smiled obligingly: “Of course… of course… I’ll escort you back, and I’ll stay with you until you’re alright.”

“The baby is almost ready…” Hua Qiong whispered, leaning on Liu Mudan for support. “Some things are best not said to an inexperienced girl much less a man, so I wish to trouble your since you are the most suitable…”

With those words how could Liu Mudan refuse, so she hurriedly called a maid to help her as together they supported Hua Qiong back to her room.

As Hua Qiong slowly stepped away, Feng Zhiwei smiled.

No one could stop her now.

With her two men in two, she stepped up to Dama Living Buddha’s yard and called out, begging an audience. A worried boy lama approached, but since it was just the Queen and two men asking in the open, there was no reason to refuse. He had to invite her in.

Silence filled the varnished corridor as oil lanterns flickered dimly on the walls. A shriveled old man the size of a child sat on a thick, colorful felt rug as he peered through binoculars at his visitors.

A copper gilded Buddha statue stood behind him smiling mysteriously down at the graceful steps of the approaching woman.

Feng Zhiwei left the front door open and the room in clear view to anyone peeking in. Zong Chen and Gu Nanyi stood by the door while the boy lamas waited outside, all of them staring inwards at Dama and Feng Zhiwei without blinking.

“Why have you come?” The old lama intoned, his thick eyelids drooping as he looked at the ground.

“I’ve come to check on our Dama Ala.” Feng Zhiwei announced as she sat a distance away from the old man. Her words were kind and gentle, but her tone told a completely different story. “I’ve come to see why he’s still alive.”

“You want my death…” The Dama said after a moment of silence, a cold smile on his lips. “You vicious wolf, do you think you can bite at the gods while in the steppes?”

“Decades of worship and you have truly deluded yourself. You think you’re a god?” Feng Zhiwei smiled mirthlessly, toying with an oil lamp on the table. The growing flame lit up her face, shadowing her eyes with her long lashes. “In truth, the solid Buddha behind you is much more trustworthy. At least it never lies.”

“I never lie.” Dama replied in his hoarse voice. “Lying is the greatest sin a disciple can make, and I have never dared.”

“Even if you mean your every word.” Feng Zhiwei said, leaning forward and staring into the man’s eyes. “Do you dare claim that your reading was made with a just mind? Can you swear that you have not been swayed? Dama, a disciple must always preserve their just heart. Can you truly say that everything you’ve done and said was with a spotless and clear conscience?”

The Dama did not stir as he sat in his small blanket, his skin more wrinkle then flesh.

A heavy weight seemed to fall over the tension in the room as weariness slowly emerged on the old lama’s face.

“What did Kereyid say to you?” Feng Zhiwei finally asked, leaning back into her cushion, her face calm and emotionless.

“He has only spoken the truth.” Dama shook his head as he answered. “It is not what you have guessed. He has not spoken poison, and even if he did, my calculations are of fates. No one can change what is spoken.”

“When you were reading, was he by your side?” A hint of a cold smile crept over Feng Zhiwei’s lips. “Dama, think carefully.”

The old lama shivered as his muddy eyes focused. He thought back to the events of his calculation, a hint of doubt creeping over his face. Finally, he shook his head once more. “He was far away.”

“Does distance mean he did nothing?” Feng Zhiwei pushed once more.

The old lama fell into deep thought, hie face growing more and more confused. He ancient brain seemed especially dull tonight, and as he thought over what had occurred when Kereyid had entered his Huyin Temple, he found himself more and more unable to recall clearly.

“Old… I’m old…” He sighed and shook his head, but his voice was stubborn as he replied once more. “The fate’s are never wrong. You need not speak anymore, a disciple of the heavens never alters his calculation.”

“Who is asking you to alter it?” Feng Zhiwei smiled lazily as she replied. She stood as she spoke once more, “Dama Ala, you are not looking well. Perhaps you have been losing sleep? No matter, very soon you will be able to rest all you want.”

She smiled and turned, her swift steps stirring the oil lamp’s flames. The old lama starred out of his heavy eyelids, the light shivering around him as he murmured: “A wolf comes to the steppes…”

…

“What kind of cloth should I use for a diaper? Can I use cambric in the summer? Or should I use cotton? But won’t that be too hot and muggy?” Hua Qiong chattered on, rubbing her belly as she peppered Liu Mudan with questions. “Aiya… he’s making so much trouble tonight.”

“Cotton is fine. The steppes are not as finicky as the central plains…” Liu Mudan replied as she stepped into to gently cup Hua Qiong’s belly. “Should I call a physician? I know you don’t want one, but I really think…”

Footsteps approached.

Liu Mudan straightened, her hand falling to her side as she turned. Hua Qiong stretched cheerfully, smiling as she turned to Liu Mudan, “Why do we need a physician? I’m fine.”

Her eyes gleamed as she strode swiftly to the door. She tipped her head in gratitude to Liu Mudan as she exclaimed: “Your words are more magical than a pill, I feel excellent!”

Liu Mudan’s face was a sight to see as the weak, powerless pregnant lady pranced through the room.

“You’re good?” Feng Zhiwei called out as she stepped inside. “You’ve really troubled Mudan Hua, but as expected, with Mudan Hua’s help no problem can stand.”

“It should be that with Hua Qiong’s help, no one can stand.” Mudan Hua giggled as she climbed to her feet. “Alright, she’s recovered and I’ve been used. You can finish your walk as I finish mine.”

“Please.” Feng Zhiwei smiled obligingly as she escorted the Dowager Queen out the door. Once the older woman was out of sight, Feng Zhiwei turned to the pregnant woman proudly rubbing her belly and whispering praise to her son. “I’ll need to borrow your big belly tomorrow again.”

When morning rose once more, it was to a bright and refreshed King’s Court. Sunlight streamed down on the black tiles and white walls, and the Second Potala Palace stood on its high hill, brilliant and clear and ever so noble.