Crouching Dragon: The Journey of Zhuge Liang sample (Act I) -- T. P. M. Thorne
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“…You… you would…?” Mister Huang exclaimed.
“Yes,” Kongming replied sincerely. “For me, all that will do is a kindred spirit, a woman with whom I can converse, debate, laugh and cry, argue as equals…”
“Argue…?” Mister Huang chuckled. “Well, my goodness… she probably wouldn’t mind that, but… but yes, yes! You should meet her soon!”
“What about now…?” Kongming prompted. “Here we are, Mister Huang, right in front of your house…”
“…Yes… yes, I suppose… yes, yes!” Mister Huang chuckled heartily. “Come, come! After you…!”
“No, after you, please,” Kongming insisted; Mister Huang entered his home, and Kongming followed, fanning himself slowly.
Kongming exchanged pleasantries with Mister Huang’s wife, who was very pleased with the young man’s demeanour. After an hour, a servant entered the living area and asked that Kongming might like to step out into the garden, where Huang Yueying was waiting.
Mister Huang sighed, and declared, “As I said, she’s really quite unappealing, so she’ll-”
“And as I said, I don’t care,” Kongming retorted; he bowed once again to Mrs Huang, and walked through to the garden at the back of the house. Yueying was sat on a low wall; she wore a beautiful pink silk robe adorned with an image of a crane, and a wide-brimmed hat and veil to cover her face.
“Zhuge Liang,” Yueying hailed calmly. “…The ‘Crouching Dragon’ of Longzhong.”
“Please, call me Kongming,” Kongming insisted as he bowed with respect.
“Such a thing is acceptable only between friends,” Yueying replied.
“And can we not be friends…?” Kongming countered.
“Alas, no,” Yueying retorted. “We can only be strangers, or family.”
“…Well put,” Kongming chuckled as he sat on a short stool in front of Yueying, and tried to steal a glimpse of her face under the veil.
“…You should not sit below me,” Yueying sighed as she lowered herself to sit on another stool facing Kongming.
“…So,” Kongming prompted, “I understand that you are an avid reader.”
“I enjoy reading very much,” Yueying replied. “I have read the odes and many of the great works of poetry… I have also read books on warfare and military strategy.”
“…Warfare…?” Kongming exclaimed.
“Does that genuinely surprise you…?” Yueying chuckled softly. “I’m dismayed… perhaps you are not so insightful a man after all.”
“…Because I greeted your interest in warfare with surprise…?” Kongming chortled defensively. “I assure you, my lady, that I’ve met many a pedant scholar that turns his nose up at books on warfare and strategy… ignorant of the needs of the age. So any surprise is not out of contempt… but genuine pleasure.”
“…Good,” Yueying said after a pause. “Shall we have some tea…?”
“Why not…?” Kongming said with a smile.