A Phoenix Rising - An Untamed Story (Book 1 In Series)

Chapter 19

Wen Qing stood in front of the mirror and peered at her eye reflection; the little lines around them were barely visible thanks to the cosmetics. She pressed her hands to her belly; even through all the layers of the wedding dress she could see it was the wrong shape. Concave instead of flat. She ran her hands up her sides feeling each individual rib and over her breasts. They had lost their firmness over the last few years. And with the weight loss from living on the streets, they were even flabbier than they had been back in her captor's house. I'm too thin. I'm too old. How does he still want me? The weight loss was the only reason she was able to fit into Jiang YanLi's dress; the other woman had been just a bit more slender.

It was still unbelievable that he had not married and had several children by now. For Wen Qing, the thought of Jiang Cheng happily living life was pretty much the only thing that kept her sane all those years. Dreaming of what his wife would look like and how she would adore him chased away the feel of the manacles on her legs. Deciding how many children he would have (she eventually settled on four boys and two girls), naming them, and dreaming up stories about them kept away the pain of being blocked from using spiritual energy and the insanity inducing monotony of a life chained in a room with no windows and no books.

How had Wei WuXian lived so happily without a Core? Hers was simply drugged away and it made her miserable....

Wei WuXian.... The one person who had never given up on her, never let her down. She loved him, truly loved him in the most pure manner of love that ever existed. He wasn't her little brother or a friend.... She just... loved him. Seeing him again in that tea house was quite possibly her second favorite moment of her life, coming in right after A'Ning returned to life.... Seeing him there, all white-faced in shock, she knew everything was going to be all right.

And then to realize that the young man in Lan blue passed out on the floor was her A'Yuan! That the chubby cheeked little angel was now this handsome young man.... Her third favorite moment of her life? She sent a fervent prayer off to Lan WangJi, thanking him for taking such good care of her nephew. And then sent another one winging towards Lan SiZhui wishing for him to have a happy, healthy life with a beautiful wife whom he adored and who adored him, and lots of plump, healthy children.

It was strange to think of Wei WuXian married to Lan WangJi. Wei WuXian had definitely been one to flirt with everyone, regardless of age, gender or appearance twenty years ago. But he had seemed to prefer admiring women to men. Perhaps he simply preferred Lan WangJi in particular to women in general? Love was funny like that. She couldn't have imagined the sixteen or even the twenty year old Lan WangJi admitting he was in love, never mind admitting he was in love with Wei WuXian, but in his looks and actions over the last few days, his love for Wei WuXian was very apparent.

Especially when they thought they were alone.... That first night she had laid in MengYao's bed in agony. A hair-line fracture in her forearm was still quite painful even though it was healing well. The little bits of food she had eaten in the inn made her stomach cramp even as her starving body screamed for food. Combine that with the worry of being executed, this time for real. And the worry of her brother being executed alongside her; Wei WuXian may have told A'Ning to remain in Gusu, but she had known her brother would ignore that instruction. She also had to worry about Lan SiZhui being revealed as a Wen and executed.... And over all of that pain was a bone-deep longing for the safety and security she had felt while living in her Yiling home....

Whether it was from the physical aches or mental anguish, she had no idea, but she was still wide awake when Wei WuXian whispered, "Lan Zhan... I need you." She had let her head fall to the side, so she wouldn't accidentally see them loving each other. And tried to concentrate on the memories of the sights and sounds of her Yiling home to drown out the sounds. It was a technique she had tried, unsuccessfully, to use back in the Burial Mounds; the walls of their crude houses were very thin and sound travels far in the night. But then, as now, the sounds of skin rubbing on skin, muffled moans and cries of pleasure aroused her body. The pain in her arm and belly conflicted with the new need to have her taut nipples touched and the moistening area between her legs caressed.