Eastern Palace

To get from Yuning Hall to the Eastern Palace, they had to cross more than half the palace grounds. Qi Yu had told the others not to follow and brought only A Ping. When he passed the Imperial Garden, he even stopped to watch the koi in the pond for a while. He recognized the largest one, mottled red and white. Last winter, he had made a special trip to feed it crumbs of steamed bun. He had secretly saved those crumbs from breakfast, keeping them tucked in his sleeve until they were warm. The koi surfaced, swallowed a mouthful, then sank again, its tail slapping a ring of ripples across the water.

A Ping followed behind, carrying the pair of wrist guards against his chest. They were made of cowhide with silver buckles, and several days of wear had already stained them with sweat from Qi Yu's wrists. A Ping had wiped them once with a handkerchief, but had not quite cleaned them. A little dried mud was still lodged in the crevices of a silver buckle. It had probably gotten there on the day of the hunt.

The Eastern Palace stood in the southeastern corner of the palace grounds, in a courtyard of its own. Two imperial guards stood at the entrance, and both cupped their fists when they saw Qi Yu approach. The older one on the left was named Zhao Wu. He had stood guard at the Eastern Palace for five years and never stopped the Fourth Prince. He stepped aside to let him through and pushed the door open for him as well.

When Qi Yu stepped through the gates of the Eastern Palace, the atmosphere inside was entirely different from outside. The courtyard was quiet, and the eunuchs and palace maids waiting beneath the covered walkways kept close to the walls as they walked. The doors of the main hall stood half-closed, with faint voices drifting out from within. The Crown Prince was discussing affairs with his advisers.

The eunuch waiting beneath the covered walkway was Fu Shun, the Eastern Palace's chief attendant. Fair and plump, he wore a smiling face for everyone. When he saw Qi Yu emerge from behind the screen wall, genuine warmth suddenly entered his practiced look of respect. He hurried forward, keeping his voice very low but his tone familiar. "You're here, Fourth Prince. His Highness the Crown Prince is inside discussing affairs with Lord Xie and the others. Would you like to sit in the side hall first, or..."

"I'll wait for him inside," Qi Yu said.

Fu Shun made no attempt to stop him. He even pushed the main hall door a little farther open, leaving enough room for someone to slip through sideways. A Ping stopped at the doorway, handed the wrist guards to Fu Shun, and found somewhere to sit beneath the covered walkway. He was as comfortable in the Eastern Palace as he was in Yuning Hall and had long since become familiar with Fu Shun and the others. Fu Shun had someone bring him a bowl of tea. He took a sip and began chatting with the young eunuch beside him.

The main hall was a little darker than outside. Half the windows were shut, with only two on the eastern side open. Light streamed through them and fell squarely on the chair where the Crown Prince sat. Qi Ling sat behind the desk in that moon-white everyday robe, its collar fastened neatly. A stack of documents lay before him, with the Vermilion Brush and an inkstone beside his hand. Three men in official robes sat before the desk. At the front was Xie Chen, an eighteen-year-old official of the Eastern Palace and the eldest legitimate son of the Jinghai Marquis Residence, his back straight as a stalk of bamboo. Of the two behind him, one was surnamed Sun and the other Zhao. Both were advisers to the Eastern Palace, and both were around forty.

As Qi Yu entered, he heard Xie Chen speaking. His voice was quiet and steady, every word clearly enunciated. "...The reported silting in the river channel is worse than last year. If it isn't dredged before the autumn floods, the three counties downstream will be flooded again. The silver allocated by the Ministry of Works is only enough to repair the narrowest stretch."

Qi Ling said nothing, his head lowered over the map spread before him. His finger moved slowly across it and stopped at a spot marked with a red circle. Qi Yu quietly made his way to the chair by the window and sat down. The chair stood in a corner, with a small low table beside it. Several illustrated storybooks and a plate of walnut pastries had already been set out on the table. The storybooks were the latest popular tales, brought up from the south only last month, about a scholar and a fox spirit. The walnut pastries were still warm, the kind that shed crumbs with every bite. Qi Yu picked up the topmost storybook, opened it, and reached for a walnut pastry. He took a bite, scattering flakes of pastry onto his lap, then lowered his head and brushed them off.

"Then have the Ministry of Works recalculate it." Qi Ling's voice rang out, as even as ever, betraying neither pleasure nor anger. "Lord Sun, draft a document setting out a clear comparison between last year's silting accounts and this year's. Have it on my desk before morning court tomorrow."

The adviser surnamed Sun acknowledged the order and picked up his brush to note it down. Qi Ling turned another page of the documents, read a few lines, then looked up at the other adviser. "Lord Zhao, you mentioned last time that there were rats in the granaries in Jiangzhou."

Lord Zhao shifted forward in his seat. "Yes. Jiangzhou submitted a memorial requesting repairs to the granaries. But the figures are wrong. The silver requested for repairing one granary would repair three."

Qi Ling drew out that memorial and set it aside. "Hold this back for now. We'll address it once the river channel matter is settled."

The advisers continued their discussion for a while. Qi Yu leafed through his storybook beside them and reached the page where the fox spirit appeared. The fox spirit in the book wore red, had long, narrow eyes, and sat on the scholar's desk with one leg crossed over the other. Chewing his walnut pastry, Qi Yu turned a page, then another.

"Milk," Qi Ling suddenly said.

Qi Yu looked up and saw that his brother was still reading the document in his hands without raising his head. Fu Shun was already coming in with a bowl of hot milk. It was a white porcelain bowl, with a thin skin of milk forming around the rim. Fu Shun placed it on the low table beside Qi Yu's hand, then withdrew. The bowl made a soft clink against the table.

The advisers continued talking. Xie Chen took up the thread and began discussing military provisions for the Northern Border. Qi Yu picked up the milk and took a sip, leaving a white ring on his upper lip. He licked it off and continued reading. The milk was sweet, with honey added. The Eastern Palace's private kitchen knew he disliked plain milk and always added a spoonful of honey whenever he visited. The Crown Prince had instructed them to do so.

Lord Sun glanced toward Qi Yu as he spoke. He had been at the Eastern Palace for less than six months and was still not quite used to this scene. The Crown Prince was discussing matters of state, while a youth sat beside him drinking milk and reading a storybook, its pages rustling as he turned them. Yet the Crown Prince said nothing and even glanced that way from time to time. He had heard before that the Fourth Prince was favored in the palace, but only today had he seen it with his own eyes.

Beside him, Lord Zhao nudged him lightly with an elbow, signaling him to stop looking and continue their discussion. Lord Zhao had spent three years at the Eastern Palace and was long used to it. The Fourth Prince came to the Eastern Palace as though returning to his own home, and His Highness the Crown Prince never kept discussions from him. Once, when they were discussing military and state secrets, Lord Zhao had cautiously hinted at whether they should ask the Fourth Prince to withdraw. The Crown Prince had lifted his eyes, looked at him, and said two words: "No need." No one had raised the subject again after that.

By the time Qi Yu turned to the last page of his storybook, the advisers' discussion was nearly over. Qi Ling distributed several documents he had finished reviewing and gave them a few instructions. Xie Chen stood, put the documents into the cloth bag he carried, bowed to Qi Ling, then gave Qi Yu a slight nod. Qi Yu waved at him, crumbs of walnut pastry still clinging to the corner of his mouth.

Xie Chen saw those crumbs, and the corner of his mouth moved, but he said nothing and turned to leave. He and Qi Yu were not particularly familiar, though they had met several times at the Eastern Palace. Whenever the Fourth Prince visited, he made himself entirely at home. Once, he had even taken off his boots and sat cross-legged on his chair, and His Highness the Crown Prince had not said a word. The Jinghai Marquis Residence had strict rules. From childhood, Xie Chen had been taught to stand properly and sit properly. The first time he saw how the Fourth Prince sat in the Eastern Palace, he had been silent for a long time. Later, he had grown used to it too.

After all the advisers withdrew, the main hall fell quiet. Qi Ling pushed the documents before him aside, leaned back in his chair, and rubbed between his brows. Qi Yu hopped down from his chair, went over to his brother, and brought him the plate of walnut pastries.

"Brother, have one. They're still warm."

Qi Ling took one and bit off a small piece. Unlike Qi Yu, who scattered crumbs all over himself with one big bite, he ate very neatly. Qi Yu stood beside him, watched his brother eat half, then reached out, took the remaining half, and stuffed it into his own mouth. Qi Ling glanced at him.

"Don't they prepare pastries for you at your place?"

"They do. But yours taste better than mine." Qi Yu's cheeks bulged, muffling his words. "Brother, that silted-up river channel you were talking about just now-is it the river that flooded badly last year?"

"Yes."

"Will it flood again this year?"

"No. Embankments have been built."

Qi Yu murmured an acknowledgment and asked no more. He had little interest in affairs of state. Occasionally, he would listen to a little, then forget it afterward. He sat down in the chair and drew his feet up, crossing his legs. He had not taken off his boots, and their soles rubbed against the seat. Qi Ling saw but said nothing. He lifted the cup of tea before him, took a sip, and set it down again.

"I'm returning your wrist guards." Qi Yu pointed at the pair A Ping had brought in, now on the low table. "My arm's healed. I've been wearing them to practice calligraphy these past few days, and my wrists don't ache anymore."

"Keep them. They were meant for you in the first place."

"Last time, you said you were lending them to me."

"Did I say lending?" Qi Ling thought for a moment. It seemed that he had indeed said that. He put down his teacup. "Keep them, then. I'll have another pair made."

Qi Yu picked up the wrist guards and examined them. They were cowhide, and his wrists had already worn the insides smooth. He turned them over. That bit of mud was still caught in the silver buckle. He picked at it with a fingernail but could not get it off. Qi Ling reached over, took the wrist guards from him, examined the speck of mud on the buckle, and rubbed it with his thumb. The mud fell off. He placed the wrist guards back in Qi Yu's hands.

"Don't push yourself next time you hunt. If the bow isn't right, change it."

"I know." Qi Yu tucked the wrist guards into his robe. Leaning back in his chair, he watched his brother review the remaining documents. Qi Ling looked much like their imperial father when he reviewed documents, his head lowered and his back very straight. But his brother did not have that vertical crease between his brows. Their imperial father always frowned when reviewing memorials, as though wrestling with the words on them. His brother's expression was much calmer. Whatever was written in a memorial, his face betrayed no change.

But Qi Yu knew his brother was not without a temper. Once, he had seen an adviser emerge from the main hall of the Eastern Palace with a pale face and a forehead covered in sweat. Qi Yu had gone inside and asked what had happened. Qi Ling said the man had copied the figures for submission to the Ministry of Revenue incorrectly, with a discrepancy of twenty percent. That was all he said, in the same tone he might have used to remark that the weather was pleasant. But that man never appeared at the Eastern Palace again.

"Brother."

"Yes?"

"You have a better temper than Father."

Qi Ling set down his brush and looked up at him. "How so?"

"Father always frowns when he reviews memorials. You don't." Qi Ling was silent for a moment. "Father faces the whole realm. I only face the affairs of the Eastern Palace." "Isn't it all the same? They're all memorials anyway."

Qi Ling did not answer. He picked up the Vermilion Brush and continued reviewing the next document. Qi Yu sat beside him, watching his brother write. The Vermilion Brush moved across the paper, leaving neat characters with strokes a little more rounded than their imperial father's. After watching for a while, Qi Yu suddenly said, "Brother, your handwriting is better than mine. The Grand Tutor says mine looks like a dog's scrawl."

"You don't practice enough."

"I do practice. Ever since my arm healed a few days ago, I've practiced every day. Qin Wei says I've improved." Qin Wei says you've improved because he's your study companion. Go ask the Grand Tutor. Qi Yu puffed out his cheeks. Of course he did not dare ask the Grand Tutor. The Grand Tutor would tell the truth, and the truth was usually not pleasant to hear. He lowered his feet from the chair and put on his boots. "Brother, when will you be finished?"

"Soon."

"Then I'll wait and have lunch with you."

Qi Ling looked up at the sun outside the window. It was still some time before lunch. He thought for a moment and said, "If you're hungry, eat first. Fu Shun has some lychees that just arrived, brought from the south by fast horse."

Qi Yu's eyes lit up. He sprang from the chair and ran outside. At the door, he stopped short and turned back. "Brother, I'll save you a few. The biggest ones." Then he pushed the door open and left.

Beneath the covered walkway, Fu Shun was talking to A Ping. Seeing the Fourth Prince emerge from the main hall, he immediately went forward with a broad smile. "Your Highness, the lychees are chilling in the ice chest in the eastern side room. This servant will show you the way."

Qi Yu followed Fu Shun toward the eastern side room. After a few steps, he turned back and called into the main hall, "Brother, hurry up and finish. The lychees won't taste good once they get cold."

Inside the main hall, Qi Ling's hand paused around the Vermilion Brush. Lychees were meant to be chilled; they only tasted good cold. He shook his head, lowered his brush, and continued reviewing the unfinished document. In the courtyard, Qi Yu's footsteps grew more distant. As they walked, Fu Shun described the fresh lychees that had arrived that morning: their shells were still red, and once peeled, they were white as pearls. Qi Yu walked beside him with light steps.