Letter from the Chi Clan

"Grandmaster, why don't you retire for the night?" Han Yongrui suggested, his brows furrowing with concern for the Lord who had just returned from a wearisome journey. "You'll need your rest for the junior apprenticeship exchange course tomorrow." 

"Don't remind me of that dreadful task, Rui." Seated in the sanctum hall of the Ice Sect's estate, the Grandmaster sighed; massaging out the crease lines forming on his forehead.

"Forgive me, Grandmaster," Han Yongrui expressed his apologies with a deep bow.

Fatigue gnawed at the Grandmaster's bones, seeping into his mind as the start of a throbbing headache. And upon his return, piling over the brewing burdens and tasks was a letter sprawled across his oak polished desk, crinkled into rectangular folds.

Addressed to him by the distant Chi Clan, the Grandmaster's eyes intensely scanned the letter's contents. The words were oozing with desperation and hope that intrigued his curiosity.

But they were precise and cleverly phrased, reading more like a pitiful plea than the actual arrogant threat it was.

"Hah!" The Grandmaster sneered, resisting the urge to burst out into a fit of laughter. "The Chi clan's audacity never ceases to amaze me."

And at the grave ending lines of the letter, his shoulders stiffened; his gaze narrowing at the words which read:

'The fate of my son lies in your hands. Heed my wishes, Grandmaster Han, for you are the last hope I can turn to.'

A request had been made, and a favour called in.

"I would rather deal with this now," the Grandmaster stated nonchalantly, craning his head to the side to loosen the knots in his neck. "I won't have the leisure to discuss this matter in the morning."

Han Yongrui observed the Grandmaster's eyes flicker with frustration, the icy blue hue in them intensifying as he folded the letter and set it aside.

As if the Emperor's abrupt summons back to the Capital didn't challenge the Grandmaster's patience enough, now the Chi Clan had already been directing their problematic affairs to him.

"Send for the Chi Clan's eldest son immediately," the Grandmaster commanded, his fingers tapping impatiently at his desk as he gazed out the open window. 

"As you wish, Grandmaster," Han Yongrui replied, bowing again before departing.

**********

Chi Cheng was awakened by the snowy zephyr that breezed in through the window he'd forgotten to latch before his self-awarded afternoon nap.

There weren't any exciting tasks or activities to entertain his boredom at the Ice Sect's disciple quarters so he escaped the clutches of his restlessness through sleep.

Uncovered by the cotton sheets, he woke up rubbing his arms as the gelid air in the Han Clan's mountainous region blew against his face.

"Why is it so cold here?" He complained through chattering teeth, stepping away from the bed to close the window.

But he stopped, recalling he had a prior engagement to attend to.

"I was supposed to meet with Han Yijun!" Chi Cheng slapped his hands to his cheeks and hurried over to a wooden bowl of water resting on a small, white oak table.

Chi Cheng's impatience to meet with his lover Han Yijun was clear in the way he hastily splashed the cold water onto his face, wiping away the chilly dampness with a soft cloth afterwards. It was coolly refreshing and cleared away the visible weariness in his eyes.

"You'd better take a good look at me, Han Yijun." Assessing his appearance in a small hand mirror, he pouted while combing out the knots and messy strands of his long, red chestnut hair.

"I only agreed to this apprenticeship course so that we could see each other often and spend time together."

Chi Cheng had been eagerly expecting his stay at the Han Clan's estate for the last month, and his arrival roused a feeling of relief that he would no longer be separated from Han Yijun for weeks at a time.

Although unaccustomed to the glacial nature of the Northern Mountain, he was prepared to endure the obstacles and unbearable conditions.

He even pledged to hide away his blatant disinterest in the junior disciple exchange course and not stir unnecessary trouble. For Han Yijun's sake and happiness, he would readily conform to the things he rarely liked or took an interest in.

"Tonight," Chi Cheng whispered cheerfully, his cheeks flaring with joy and excitement. "You'll finally embrace me, won't you Han Yijun?"

Straightening out the creases in his red and white hanfu robe, Chi Cheng sighed hopefully as he made his way out of his room in the disciple quarter's hall.

Once outside, the mountain's icy, night gales embraced him; chilling through his back and causing goosebumps to pop up along his arms.

"The Han clan's region is beautiful," Chi Cheng complimented, admiring the lotus lake which spanned most of the inner estate's area where the halls were built.

But pensive thoughts settled in as he crossed the long stone bridge. He recalled that although his lover treated him kindly and praised him occasionally, he seldom, or even rarely touched him.

There were always the brief, soft brushes of Han Yijun's hand against his cheek, but even in those, there was hesitancy.

As time passed by in a few months of their courtship, their relationship became oddly platonic, more like a casual friendship of two friends who greeted each other now and then or conversed with each other out of common courtesy.

On many occasions, Chi Cheng attempted to charm his lover with romantic or affectionate gestures like a light peck on the cheek or a hug from behind. Still, Han Yijun always shied away or used the excuse of their relationship being exposed to avoid it.

"No matter what I've tried, Han Yijun always brushes it off," Chi Cheng sighed softly, twirling the earring on his left ear with his finger. "This is no time to sulk. I'll do it right!"

Chi Cheng hurried his pace until he reached Han Yijun's private hall where he promised to wait for him. He stopped twirling his earring and rubbed his arms again for warmth, wincing at the sudden strong gale that hit him.

"Hmm?" He cocked his head to the side, trying to figure out why the hall wasn't lit. 

The hall from the outside appeared completely dark, not even a slight spark or wavering candle flame. But as Chi Cheng drew closer to the door, over the howling wind, he heard the faint sounds and moans of a woman.

"Is this the right hall?" He placed his ear against the door to listen more clearly, covering his other ear with his hand to prevent the wind from clouding his hearing.

Chi Cheng's eyes widened when the sounds reached his ear more audibly. He heard the passion-filled cries of a woman in the heat of heightened pleasure. Her moans were soft, pleasantly sweet to the ear, but they were like silvery daggers jabbing at his heart.

His instincts urged him to walk away immediately, fearing that he may bear witness to an unbearable scene that his heart would never come to accept.

But Chi Cheng's stubbornness and curiosity defeated his better judgment, and he reached out to the door with a quivering hand.

He gulped, closing his eyes tightly before he slid the door open with a sharp force. In the room's darkness, he vaguely made out two silhouettes in the distance on the bed.

At the bedside was a miniature candle with a dying flame that was hardly noticeable at a glance but it illuminated the faces of the two silhouettes vividly. 

Chi Cheng's legs trembled, and he took a few steps forward when he saw his lover's features brightened by the candle flame. He astonishingly fixed his gaze on the scene in front of him, unable to break away.

His lips quiveringly parted to speak, "Han…Yi…jun?"