Tales of the Celestial Kingdom (The Celestial Kingdom, #2.5)

by Sue Lynn Tan

I wanted to say more, to lift her face to mine—to ask for her heart, as I was in danger of losing mine.

“You do not grasp what it means to work together, and you reveal your ignorance with every utterance. We will most definitely get in each other’s way unless you adopt a more collaborative attitude.”

“Don’t mind her; she has a tendency to offend everyone. Can you bring us both over the wall?”

While I had never craved the power of the throne, neither would I discard my duty.

Life was not perfect; there were always hidden wounds, pain disguised beneath a smile, a price to any happiness possessed. We had to bear our burdens the best we could, for we alone knew their true weight.

I sensed nothing at first, when she came. But she returned again and again, weeping as she spoke to me, until one day . . . I woke from oblivion. She needs me. As I need her.

“You do not deserve her,” I told him fiercely. I will endeavor to. “Why have you not spoken to Xingyin yourself?” I demanded. She grieves still. I do not want to raise her hopes without reason. I will not cause her more pain.

If you will not do this, I will not blame you. Before, if I could have won her from you, I would have spared you no concern.

“I will help you.” I ignored the wrench in my heart. “I will allow you to enter the Mortal Realm and live among them, until you are able to return to our world. As a mortal you will remember none of this, yet your immortal memories and power will be preserved, to be restored upon your return to our realm.”

“The past is embedded in who we are, whether we choose to change or keep our course. Without our history, we are unmarked sheets of paper.”

“Even those are bound to the past, for they cannot be new without the old. Whatever the past, it should not be ignored—but acknowledged, embraced, accepted. Only once we understand who we were, and what we are now, can we claim our future.”

“Do you wish you could change anything about your past?” “No. Because it led me to you.”

“These are no empty words; I mean what I say.” “You always do.” “Always?” I repeated curiously.

“If this is flattery, you need to improve upon it.”

“Do you believe in the strings of fate?” What else might account for such strange emotions? “That the Keeper of Mortal Fates is tying up little figures of us with red thread?” She laughed, shaking her head.

“I do not believe in another fixing our destinies. I believe we make our own, and some of us might even defy that which is written in the stars.” “I would move the stars for you,” I said quietly, as something shifted into place inside me. “I would defy them all.”

“Why will you not marry me?” he asked directly, a question he had been asking more often of late. “We’ve lived together these past years, scandalizing the city.” A smile formed on his lips, though his pupils glinted like iron. “They think you under my protection.” I shrugged aside these narrow thoughts, wedged between curiosity and spite. “They think worse of me than that.” A woman of ill-repute. A temptress. An opportunist. Without even the title of “concubine” to clad my presence in a frail shroud of decency. Not that Wenzhi kept any here, for if he did—

There are many types of happiness in the world. Some bring your entire self together, yet those also wield the power of breaking it apart. But there is happiness in smaller things too, that you can piece together to form a whole—no less strong or meaningful.”

“But not anymore. Moreover, you are the virtuous and benevolent Celestial Emperor, and your conduct must match your lofty position.”

“Did you buy that statue to annoy me?” Liwei demanded. I lowered myself into a mocking bow. “I did not, Your Celestial Majesty. Though I will now ask for it to be elevated to a pedestal and send for more such likenesses to be crafted in your honor.”