Windy Nights

The wind was whispering anxiously at the window, tugging at the shutters, occasionally raising its voice to a shrill scream, then fading away, like a hysterical child throwing a tantrum.

Suzhen opened her eyes. She had been lying motionless on the bed for hours after Xuxian's deep, even breathing had shown that he was already asleep. Her body seemed stiff and unreal after lying still for so long, and when she finally moved her limbs felt wooden.

Noiselessly she sat up in bed and pushed the covers away, putting her feet down on the floor. It was cold; she shivered involuntarily.

There was a heaviness in her heart that kept her awake. She tried to push away the memory of the monk's stern face and his piercing gaze for the hundredth time, then gave up with a sigh.

Restlessly, Suzhen got up from the bed. She walked to the window and opened the shutters, feeling the cold air come rushing in and the wind tangle her loose hair. For a while, she stood there motionless, bare feet shining white in the moonlight, staring sombrely at the dancing shadows of the wisteria branches.

The leaves had almost finished falling.

She noticed one, still clinging bravely to a twig, the last on that branch, and watched as the wind tugged determinedly at it.

All of a sudden it snapped and was instantly carried away on the gust of wind, whirled away into the darkness even as she strained to follow it with her eyes.

Suzhen drew back, looking thoughtful. Her eyes travelled absently around the hut. The little table and stools where they had had so many meals. The herbs hanging up to dry on the rafters, and the clothes over the back of the chair, with her mending basket next to it. The small teapot looking like some fairy's chalice, dyed bone-white in the unearthly moonlight.

How familiar these things seemed, and yet it had barely been a year since she had first come here. Her life in the mountains seemed strange at first when she tried to recall it; she had not thought about it for so long. She had not even turned into her snake form since. The animals here now no longer recoiled from her; her snake aura had faded over time. The chick Granny Hong had given them would eat from her hand, and follow her around the yard, now a gangly half-grown chicken. Thoughtfully, she held out her hand to the moonlight and studied the fingers, the nails, touched the curve of wrist and knuckle. She had gotten so used to this body, she had almost forgotten what her snake form was like. She was proud of these hands; she had learnt how to do so many things, and they were so useful. In the past, she had practiced splitting rocks and controlling water currents with her spirit energy; she could not do that now, but she could weave, and make tofu, and wash clothes. Madame Liang had promised to teach her how to brew wine, which Suzhen was excited to learn how.

Slowly, she let her hand fall. She recalled her favourite spot on the rocks, and how good it felt to bask in the sun, with the sun-warmed rock beneath her. Hunting frogs with Qingqing. Swimming in the lake, spending hours floating in the cool depths, suspended in a surreal dimension that was neither heaven nor earth, an unbroken peace. The hours she spent cultivating in her grotto, so quiet even the dripping of water sounded as loud as a temple bell, wrapped in the shadows, not knowing if hours or days had passed. Seeing the sun rippling down her scales as she stretched out in her snake form, and tested the strength of her coils. The sensation of slithering through the undergrowth, the feeling of soil and leaves against her skin, and the vibrations in the ground which she could sense in her whole body.

Suzhen closed her eyes.

Xuxian sighed in his sleep and she turned to see him reach out an empty hand across the bed clothes. "Susu," he murmured drowsily, brows knitting together.

She closed the shutters and came softly back to the bed. Sitting down, she laid a hand in his open hand. His fingers wrapped around hers immediately.

Suzhen bent over him and kissed the space between his brows, smoothing the frown they had been drawn into. She gazed lovingly down at his face, and touched his cheek gently in a caressing gesture.

"Susu," he murmured again, thickly, drawing her hand over his chest. "It's cold. Lie next to me, you'll be warmer."

She smiled to herself. Even in his sleep, he didn't forget that she got cold easily.

Drawing her feet up, she laid her head down on his chest and pulled the cover over herself. She felt his warm breath on her cheek as she snuggled against him, and Xuxian's arm drew her closer. "I'll keep you warm," he said sleepily, turning towards her so she was lying in his arms, and she could feel the roughness of his chin against her cheek when she moved.

Suzhen felt herself relax as his arms wrapped around her, encapsulating her in a little halo of warmth. Closing her eyes, she focused on the steady pulsing of his heartbeat, and tried to match her breathing with the rhythm of his deep, regular breaths. Gradually, they fell into sync, and she felt herself being lulled to sleep in the process, her senses dulling, the thoughts that had been so tangled in her mind slowly being unknotted. The warmth crept slowly throughout her, seeping through her fingers and toes, till she was wrapped in a little cocoon of it, like a silkworm; encased in a little world of Xuxian's arms, with the coverlet over them sheltering them from the outside world.

With her ear on his chest, the sound of his heart was louder than anything else. His scent--a faint trace of bitter herbs, the smell of cotton and linen, the smoke from the fire, and his own particular smell--was calming; she nestled closer, breathing it in gratefully.

The wind whistled shrilly outside, but Suzhen was finally asleep.