As Feng’s tears slowly stopped, she became aware that her cheeks were burning. I’m such an idiot, to go and cry on Mrs. Zhu-ge’s shoulder right after I meet her. Still, Jiao-long didn’t seem to mind, so Feng held on for an extra moment before pulling away. Jiao-long let go of her slowly, as if to make sure that the girl was okay, and then handed her a silk handkerchief.
After Jiao-long straightened, she briskly tapped her shoulder with her fan. The stains disappeared immediately. “You see? It’s all better now.” Feng nodded, and blew her nose into the handkerchief. She wasn’t worried about ruining the silk, if cleaning in the magic world could be accomplished so easily.
“I know that magic has taken a lot from you, but I want you to remember that it has also opened a lot of doors. It will be hard for you, but I know that you will succeed here.” Feng hesitated, but Jiao-long seemed sure. Li Fei had had faith in her too, but that hadn’t changed anything in the end.
Jiao-long changed the subject before Feng could decide what to think about the older woman’s faith in her. “Are you finished with lunch?”
Feng blinked, but she really wasn’t hungry anymore. The amount of food on the table was still staggering though. She wondered idly, how much of it would be eaten by the house-elves and how much would be saved for dinner. “Yes, Mrs. Zhu-ge.”
“Then, if you don’t mind, I think I need to have a long talk with my husband and remind him of the meaning of my name.” Feng’s eyes widened involuntarily. Jiao-long looked ready to murder Zhu-ge Liang, though her voice had remained absolutely calm. Her eyes looked dangerous, her brows were drawn tightly together, and her hands were squeezed into two fists.
The meaning of her name? She considered the various meanings for ‘jiao’ - delicate, lovable, cunning, charming, pampered... she wasn’t sure how it was written. Long... probably meaning dragon. Uh oh. Feng glanced over to Zhu-ge Liang. He’s in trouble.
Feng did not realize that Jiao-long was not only referring to the second character of her personal name, dragon, but her clan, the Tiger. She also could not know that Jiao-long was reminding her husband that despite the ‘delicate’ in her name, she was both a dragon and a tiger, and thus, not to be trifled with.
Despite his wife’s apparent rage, Zhu-ge Liang remained outwardly calm. He sat completely still at the table, gazing back at his wife evenly, his expression carefully blank.
“Ling-ling!” Jiao-long called.
The house-elf appeared and bowed. “Yes, Mistress Zhu-ge?” Feng abruptly realized she had been using the modern word “Mrs.” as opposed to the traditional “Mistress” and reminded herself to stick to the traditional. Just because Mrs, no, Mistress Zhu-ge doesn’t seem to care, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try.
“Please take the young mistress to see the garden. I need to talk to Liang.” Her eyes never left her husband’s face.
Ling-ling didn’t seem particularly worried. “Yes, mistress. If the young mistress pleases?” The elf bowed again.
“Of... course.” Feng carefully got up. She followed the house elf out the door. It was still silent when they left.
The house-elf led the girl back through the house to the garden. “Is there any place that the young mistress would like to go to?” Ling-ling asked.
“Can we... go back to the pond?” Feng asked. She wanted to look at the floating stones again.
Ling-ling nodded, and they walked silently towards the pond. Feng wasn’t sure what to say to the house-elf, and Ling-ling seemed content to walk in perfect silence. The garden was fantastical, filled with plants that she did not recognize along with normal flowers. One particularly pretty flower sparkled in the sunlight like it had been sprinkled with glitter or fairy dust. Another constantly shifted colors.
When they reached the pond, Feng immediately stepped on the first stone. The floating stones for the bridge lowered so that she could step up to them easily. I wonder if I could do a backflip on to one of the stones? It was a silly thought and she would probably hurt herself and misjudge the distance or rip the pretty hanfu. Still, she missed gymnastics. Feng walked up the high arching stone bridge again, and carefully sat down on the topmost. There was something about the height that made her happy.
She looked down and around, trying to see what else was in the garden. There were definitely fruit trees. She noticed at least one pavilion as well. She couldn’t tell if the other tiled thing was a pavilion or the wall surrounding the garden. Well, they have water, buildings, and plants... Feng tried to remember what else was supposed to be in a traditional garden, but she couldn’t. A wall to protect the garden and keep people out was one of the elements that Feng couldn’t remember, even though she had noticed the wall earlier.
She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, swinging her legs and enjoying the early summer warmth. She wasn’t sure when she had ever had so much ‘free’ time. Time to do what she wanted with, time that wasn’t scheduled for her. It was still an odd feeling. When she was home, she felt like she had to cram in as many things as possible. Now... there was literally nothing for her to... do; nothing that needed to be accomplished. Now what? she asked herself. It was a question that had haunted her over the past week.
Slowly, she walked down the stone bridge to the other side of the pond where Ling-ling was waiting for her. “What kind of fruit trees does the Zhu-ge family have here?”
“The lychee and the longan should be ready to be picked soon,” Ling-ling said. “The peaches will be better in a few weeks.”
“Are there loquat?” Feng asked eagerly. She loved loquat, though peeling an entire bag of them inevitably made her thumb turn a darker color.
Ling-ling answered, “The loquat will not be ready until spring. If the young mistress wishes, we can have some lychee and longan.” The house-elf’s tone could be characterized as long-suffering, though Feng would not have noticed.
Feng nodded. “Yes, please.” She had enjoyed fresh fruit while she was home, since her parents kept a few fruit trees. Fresh fruit was one of her favorite treats when her parents came to visit her while she was in Guangzhou, and that was something that she had missed a lot when she had moved to Beijing.
The lychee and longan trees were beautiful and covered in fruit. Feng grinned. She reached up and was about to pick a few longan, when something occurred to her. “Is this tree okay?”
“Yes, young mistress, you may take fruit from any tree in the garden.” The house-elf’s voice was ostensibly polite and unemotional, but there may have been a hint of exasperation underneath.
Satisfied that she would not get in trouble like the Monkey King for stealing fruit, Feng gently picked a few longan from the nearest tree. She grinned to herself at that thought. Of course, Sun Wukong got in even more trouble, since he stole Immortality peaches and not normal fruit. Like most Chinese children, her favorite character from Journey to the West was the irrepressible, outrageous, impatient Monkey King.
Feng was about to get some lychee, to go along with the longan when Ling-ling stopped her. “Mistress Zhu-ge is calling us. We must return to the house now.”
The girl quickly jumped up and grabbed one lychee from a low hanging branch and then turned to the house-elf. “Okay.”
Ling-ling gave her a look very akin to disapproval, and then led the way back to the house. Feng ate the fruit along the way, peeling off the skins and licking her fingers.
Instead of going back to the small dining room, Ling-ling led Feng to what she was supposed was a practice room of some kind. She didn’t think that she had been inside here earlier. It was a very plain room, at least for this house but it was quite large. The floors were stone, and full racks of weapons covered the walls. Feng was surprised at the variety - swords, spears, axes, bows, crossbows, knives, a few metal fans, even what appeared to be rifles. There’s enough to supply a small army she marveled. The weapons were all fastidiously maintained: polished, sharpened and waxed. They were also all well used, not that Feng could tell.
Zhu-ge Liang was pacing when they arrived. “Master and Mistress Zhu-ge, Young Mistress Song and Ling-ling are here.”
“Thank you, Ling-ling. You can go now.” Jiao-long responded, coolly, as Zhu-ge Liang finally stopped pacing. The house-elf bowed and vanished.
Feng stood at the door, feeling very strange and even more out of her depth than normal. She was very conscious that her hands were sticky from the fruit that she had gleefully eaten on the way back to the main house.
Suddenly, Zhu-ge Liang bowed very deeply to Feng. “I’m very sorry, Young Mistress Song.”
Feng had been shifting her weight uneasily from side to side, suddenly froze. “... Why?” She barely managed to say.
“I have not been completely forthcoming about your position at the Dragon Pearl.” Zhu-ge Liang responded, keeping his head down. “The Dragon Pearl is, indeed, the oldest and most prestigious primary school of magic in the Middle Kingdom; however, I did not tell you earlier that you will be the only Muggle-born student attending. The school has traditionally been barred to Muggle-borns. This is partially why I insisted on your leaving home for tutoring. I want to prove that Muggle-borns can perform as well as anyone else.”
Feng blinked, trying to understand everything that Zhu-ge Liang had just told her. She would be the only Muggle-born, historic discrimination... but before she could even begin to understand everything, Zhu-ge Liang continued: “I want to keep your heritage a secret until the end of the year, so that when you excel, the detractors have nothing to say against you because you will have already proven yourself. I think it will be better for you to be adopted into the Zhu-ge family and be one of our grandchildren. At least for the first year, so you will not appear to be a Muggle-born.”
For a long moment, all three people remained silent and still: Feng just inside the door, Zhu-ge Liang bowing, and Jiao-long standing off to the side. “So, I am sorry, Young Mistress Song. We will try to arrange some times for you to visit your family during these months of tutoring. I should have been more aware of the life that you had to give up to come here. I am deeply, truly sorry.”
“It’s fine, honestly, just... please stop,” Feng finally managed to say in a rush. I’ll think about the rest later, he just needs to stop bowing! Her head was still spinning from all the information.
Finally, Zhu-ge Liang straightened. “I need to return to the school tonight. Jiao-long will be in charge of your lessons.” He looked like he was waiting for her to say something.
“That’s... good?” Feng said. “Can I... go back to my room and um... think?” She wasn’t sure what to say, what to do or what to think. The headmaster of her future school, the person that had turned her life utterly inside out, had just apologized to her at least twice and given her a ton of information. She needed to sit down, preferably with her tiger.
“Yes, of course,” Zhu-ge Liang responded, just a little too hastily. “Jiao-long will see you for dinner.”
“Okay,” Feng said, and backed out of the room carefully. She really needed to get out of there.
Back in her room, or rather the room that was assigned to her but wasn’t really hers yet, Feng went to wash her hands clean of fruit juice. The problem with eating really ripe fruit was that the juice got everywhere.
Her hands clean, Feng collapsed on to the bed. The mattress was softer than she expected. She thought that old style beds would have been a lot more uncomfortable than modern ones. It was definitely the largest bed she had ever had, and the most ornate with a large wooden frame and canopy.
She rolled over, grabbing her stuffed tiger and squeezing it. Zhu-ge Liang had apologized so many times, but he had been so obstinate and unapologetic before. What could have made him change his mind? It must have been Mistress Zhu-ge. She must have said something to him. She looked pretty mad at him earlier.
So why would Jiao-long care what happened to her? The older woman had gone out of her way to comfort her, and to take her side against her own husband. Feng tried to reason it out, but she couldn’t think of anything. Maybe it’s just a motherly thing. She didn’t come up with any better theories. She assumed that Zhu-ge Liang and his wife had children. Voluntarily not having children was a modern phenomenon of the middle-class.
All the thinking made her tired. She hadn’t slept well the night before either: too much stress. A nap wouldn’t hurt, right? she thought, yawning. She probably shouldn’t sleep in the hanfu though. Even if magic could probably get rid of the wrinkles instantly, it wouldn’t be very comfortable to sleep in. It wasn’t as tight as a qipao, the high-necked, Mandarin collared Manchu dress, but it still wasn’t as comfortable as modern, athletic gear or her Western-style flannel pajamas.
She forced herself to get up and take the hanfu off and put it back in the wardrobe. She rummaged through her bag for pajamas. Not the flannel ones, it’s too hot for those. She ended up with thin cotton ones and pulled them on. Then she went back to the bed, grabbing her white tiger and falling asleep under the heavy silk covers.
Song Feng woke up hours later, to the sound of someone singing a lullaby. “Mommy?” she murmured, half-awake.
“No, Song Feng, it’s Jiao-long.”
“M’kay,” she said into her tiger’s fur, clutching it closer, still too sleepy to make much sense.
“It’s time for dinner,” Jiao-long said, a bit more sternly. “Come on, get out of bed.”
This time Feng actually stretched and yawned. She slid out of bed, her white tiger dangling from her right hand. Then she walked into the bathroom. She fumbled, looking for the faucet.
“Water,” Jiao-long said from the door, eying the white tiger that Feng still held. Feng washed up, splashing the cool water on her face, her tiger squished between the sink and her chest, leaving her arms free.
“Ah, that’s better.” Feng looked up into the mirror above the washbasin. She froze, suddenly remembering exactly where she was and who was in front of her.
Jiao-long smiled slightly. “Are you awake now?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Feng said, drying herself. “I’m quite awake now. I’m sorry, I was very tired, so I took a nap. I suppose I’m just a bit overwhelmed.” She was probably babbling, but she felt like an idiot for not even noticing that Jiao-long was there at all.
Jiao-long just smiled gently, instantly stopping her babbling. “We can just have a quick dinner, then you can sleep. You don’t have to change; you’re fine as you are. We’ll start your lessons tomorrow.”
The older woman started leading the way from the room, but Feng had one last question. “Will you read me one of the stories?” Jiao-long turned towards her, slight confusion on her face. “I... I think it’ll help me learn the traditional characters.”
Jiao-long considered it. “That’s a very good idea. But first, I think we should have dinner.”
Feng forgot about the long, odd conversation that she had with Zhu-ge Liang that day. At least, she did for a while.