Page 67 of From Beijing, With Love

“Oh, I know,” Daniel said, still bitter on behalf of the women from centuries past.

“But Zhu convinces her father to let her attend school in another city disguised as a man. That’s where she meets Liang, a classmate. There’s an instant bond, and they become sworn brothers. Over the years, she falls in love with him, all while maintaining her male disguise. When she eventually reveals her true gender, Liang’s overjoyed, as they can finally be together romantically. They devote themselves to one another, promising never to part ways, even in death.”

Daniel ran his fingers along the cracked spine and frayed edges. The worn cover had a line sketch of two butterflies. In all its rough edges and imprecisions, it reminded Daniel of the sketch that Yang left for him—the one that had landed him on this very train.

“But Zhu is already promised to a rich merchant by her father, and the couple is forced apart.” Yang paused, as if unsure whether he should go on. “Then Liang dies of heartbreak. When Zhu’s wedding procession passes Liang’s grave site, the grave opens and she jumps in, reuniting with him in death.”

“Geez, that’s the happy ending you talked about?” Daniel poked Poppy in the arm.

“I said happy-ish.” Poppy swatted his hand away. “Their spirits turn into a pair of butterflies at the end, so they get to be together forever. What did you expect? It’s an ancient story and it’s queer. This ending is as happy as it gets.”

“Did you say … I don’t see how it’s queer,” Yang said, invoking his professor voice, paired with knitted brows.

“Starting with Zhu—”

“A woman,” Yang added.

“Who left home and lived as a man for years.” Poppy dragged out the single word for emphasis.

“To pursue an education.”

“No one wants to go to school that badly. If she wanted to learn, she could have hired a tutor at home. Her family was loaded,” Poppy said with raised brows and a spark in her eyes. Daniel knew the look. His best friend was in the mood to be right. He should probably shield Yang from this. But before he could intervene, she went on, “And Liang fell in love with Zhu while she lived as a man. How do you explain that?”

“They were close friends, sworn brothers,” Yang argued, his back a tad bit straighter. “Liang didn’t fall in love with Zhu until she revealed her true identity.”

“Um, I don’t think a straight man’s first instinct after learning their bro is a woman is ‘Oh, thank heavens, now we can finally be together.’ ” Poppy tilted her head in a give-me-your-best-shot kind of way. When Yang didn’t have a response, she simply smiled before lifting the bag and tilting the remainder of the prawn cracker crumbs into her mouth. She dusted her hands and stood up, exuding triumph. In a singsong voice, she asked, “Want anything from the dining car? My treat.”

Daniel shook his head. After Poppy sashayed off, Yang remained quiet as he gazed out the window at the moving scenery. Daniel’s throat constricted. He wanted Poppy and Yang to like each other. It probably shouldn’t matter all that much, as he was leaving China in a week, but it did. A lot.

Daniel handed the book back to Yang, together with his most apologetic smile. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never won an argument against her either.”

“It’s one of the most famous stories in Chinese history. I just … never thought about it like that.” Opening the book to the title page, Yang ran his thumb across the inky inscription. “In the end, they were free. I used to think it just meant they were free to love who they chose, regardless of social and wealth class, but if Poppy’s right, then …”

“Like you said in the Forbidden City, we are enslaved to our times. I think back in those days, maybe this was the only acceptable way to tell a queer story,” Daniel said, meeting Yang’s eyes. “And maybe for a long time, there was only one acceptable way to read the story too.”

“My takeaway from the story was always that they both had to die at the end.” Yang shut the book and slipped it back into his messenger bag, his lips pinched.

“I promise this isn’t how queer stories end now.” Daniel leaned in closer, his voice low and rushed. Sticking out his pinkie, he said, “How about this? I promise not to die of a broken heart if you promise not to jump into any open graves?”

Yang barked out a laugh that had a cynical edge. “That’s our story? Is that the best we can do?”

We can do better. So much better, Daniel wanted to say, but didn’t. “Our story will be different. I promise.”

Yang stared at Daniel’s outstretched finger for a beat longer, then linked his pinkie with Daniel’s like they were making a schoolyard promise.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINEDaniel

“This is Xi’an, huh?” Daniel craned his neck to look out the window as the train pulled into their destination.

“Well, it’s just the station.” Yang laughed, his fingers tapping away on his phone. “The real Xi’an, you’ll have to wait and see.”

“As long as the real Xi’an has food. I’m starving.” Poppy poked Daniel in his obliques. “So are you. Your stomach growls literally kept me up this entire train ride.”

“Yes, Princess. Let’s get off the train first.” Daniel grabbed her finger to stop her ticklish probing. Reaching up to the overhead rack, he pulled down all their luggage and threw Poppy’s duffel on his shoulder. It was the least he could do after ditching her in the middle of the station, which she had the grace to not make him feel bad about.

“Only address me as Queen. Empress works too, since we are in China.” Poppy flipped her hair over her shoulder. They broke into a mutual grin.

Yang eyed the two of them with a curious head tilt but didn’t say anything. Daniel just shrugged, a smile still plastered on his face. He could spend hours explaining their friendship, or he could summarize it in three simple words—Poppy was family.