Rewards

As Jiang Baolin withdrew her hands from Qi Xiao's shoulders, her fingertips trembled slightly. Before entering the palace, she had made a point of learning this muscle-relaxing massage from a music master. Her teacher had said her finger placement was accurate and her pressure even; a musician's nimble fingers could locate pressure points more precisely than most people's. She had massaged him with those hands for half the time it took to drink a cup of tea, feeling the muscles in the emperor's shoulders and neck slowly loosen beneath her fingers. At that moment, she had felt assured. The empress had arranged for her to attend the emperor's dinner at Xuanzheng Hall and had sent word ahead that His Majesty's shoulders had been troubling him these past few days, so she should come prepared. She had prepared her zither, her massage techniques, and several suitable topics for light conversation.

Everything had gone as she expected. She had played the zither and used her massage techniques, and His Majesty had leaned against the back of his chair with his eyes closed. She thought that after tonight, the Palace of Attendant Service would probably make an entry in its records. The Fourth Prince left. Then everything stopped.

Qi Xiao opened his eyes and raised a hand to signal her to stop. His fingers merely lifted slightly, as though brushing away a fallen leaf from his shoulder. Jiang Baolin withdrew her hands and stepped back beside the table. Qi Xiao did not look at her. He looked at the doorway. The doors had already closed, and the cloud patterns carved into them flickered in the candlelight.

"De'an."

"Your servant is here." De'an took half a step forward from the corner. He had been standing there all along, his whisk resting in the crook of his arm, his face expressionless.

"Clear it away."

He went to the doorway and beckoned. Two young eunuchs entered and quietly removed the dishes from the table one by one. More than half the braised ribs remained, only a few bites had been taken from the steamed sea bass, and the Chinese yam and pork rib soup had gone completely cold, a thin layer of fat congealing on its surface. Looking at the plate of ribs, De'an remembered how the Fourth Prince had sat at the table earlier, poking at them with his chopsticks for ages before finally taking just one small piece. Jiang Baolin still stood beside the table, her hands folded in front of her, her smile somewhat stiff. She did not know what she had done wrong. She had played well, massaged well, and said nothing improper. The Fourth Prince had been perfectly courteous when leaving, saying, "I won't disturb Father while he listens to the music." From beginning to end, no one had done anything wrong. Yet this meal simply could not continue.

Qi Xiao rose. De'an hurried forward, thinking he meant to return to his sleeping quarters. Qi Xiao did not head there. He sat down behind the imperial desk, picked up the Vermilion Brush, and opened a fresh memorial. It was a summary of the autumn tax collections submitted by the Ministry of Revenue, with densely packed figures filling three whole pages. He read the first page, turned to the second, dipped the brush in ink, and lowered its tip to the paper. His handwriting remained steady, the horizontal strokes level and the vertical strokes straight.

Jiang Baolin still stood where she was. She had not been in the palace long, but she knew its rules. Unless His Majesty dismissed her, she could not leave. Yet His Majesty did not look at her again either. She simply stood beside the table for nearly the time it took an incense stick to burn. From behind the imperial desk came only the sound of memorial pages turning and the soft scratch of the Vermilion Brush across paper. At one point, Qi Xiao lifted his teacup and took a sip. The tea was already cold. He set it down, and De'an hurried to replace it with a hot cup. Throughout it all, he never raised his head.

De'an walked over to Jiang Baolin and made a gesture inviting her to leave, the sort of gesture used to show someone the way. In the end, Jiang Baolin merely dipped into a curtsy toward the imperial desk and followed De'an out. Her footsteps were light as she left, but her jade ornaments jingled louder than when she had arrived, their clinking echoing several times beneath the empty corridor.

Jiang Baolin returned to Lanyue Pavilion, where she lived, sat at her dressing table, and removed the kingfisher-feather hairpin from her temple before the bronze mirror. The kingfisher feathers inlaid in the hairpin shone a deep blue in the candlelight. Her family had had it made when she entered the palace, saying the style was fashionable there. She placed it in her dressing case and looked at herself in the mirror. The woman reflected there still wore the same pomegranate-red palace gown and still had the same gentle face.

Pei'er, the maid who had accompanied her from her family home, brought in hot water. Just as she was about to ask why her mistress had returned so early tonight, Jiang Baolin raised a hand to stop her. "Put the gown away. I won't wear it again." Pei'er froze for a moment, then folded the pomegranate-red palace gown and placed it at the very bottom of a storage chest. Jiang Baolin sat on the edge of the bed and suddenly felt very tired. She had prepared her zither and her massage techniques, spending several nights getting ready. In the end, the Fourth Prince had only to put down his chopsticks, and she was sent back. She did not know why the Fourth Prince had suddenly left, nor why His Majesty had suddenly stopped looking at her. She knew only that she had done nothing wrong tonight, yet it felt worse than if she had.

The rewards arrived early the next morning. De'an delivered them personally: two bolts of cloud brocade, a box of South Sea Pearls, and a pair of white jade ruyi scepters. The gifts covered a table. The maids of Lanyue Pavilion went in and out carrying them, while Pei'er stood to one side recording them in an inventory, her brush swishing across the paper. Jiang Baolin knelt to receive the rewards and kowtowed in gratitude for the emperor's grace. De'an stood at the doorway, his manner perfectly courteous. He said His Majesty had praised Jiang Baolin's outstanding skill on the zither, and these rewards were an additional mark of favor. Jiang Baolin bowed her head and thanked him for his grace. Of course she knew this was no additional favor; it was routine. His Majesty never shortchanged consorts whose attendance at dinner came to nothing. Not one of the customary rewards would be missing. His Majesty had not selected these things. De'an had drawn them from the Imperial Treasury according to the prescribed list; even the colors of the brocade had been chosen by De'an. His Majesty probably had not even looked at the list of rewards, merely hearing De'an say between memorials, "The rewards for Jiang Baolin are ready," and giving a hum of acknowledgment before turning the page.

Jiang Baolin knew none of this. But she could guess. Last night, His Majesty had not looked at her once from beginning to end, nor had he shown any response when her hands rested on his shoulders. She knew that, like so many other consorts, she was standing in line in the inner palace, waiting for a night that might never come.

In the West Warm Pavilion of Xuanzheng Hall, Qi Xiao had spent the entire night reviewing memorials. De'an had come to replace his tea twice and replenish the lamp oil once. At the start of the hour of the tiger, with less than two hours until morning court, Qi Xiao set down his brush, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes for a while. Thinking he had fallen asleep, De'an crept over to dim the lamp. Qi Xiao suddenly spoke.

"How much dinner was eaten at Yuning Hall last night?"

De'an turned around. "Your Majesty, Chun He said the Fourth Prince did not have dinner after returning. He only had a bowl of Tremella Soup."

Qi Xiao was silent for a long while. "And breakfast?"

"It isn't time for breakfast yet. But A Ping reported last night that His Highness tossed and turned in bed for half the night before falling asleep."

At meals, he chattered at the table about amusing things in the Imperial Study. While Qi Xiao reviewed memorials, he leaned over the edge of the imperial desk and talked about whatever interesting things the grand tutor had taught him. In bed, he rolled the covers away and kicked Qi Xiao's calves. For this fourth son of his to suddenly say, "I won't disturb you," was like a sparrow suddenly closing its beak and falling silent. It was more unsettling than when he chirped.

Qi Xiao lifted his teacup and took a sip. "Have the Imperial Kitchen prepare a few more of his favorite dishes for dinner today. There must be ribs and sweet-and-sour fish. Prepare Osmanthus Cake as well." De'an bowed in assent. Qi Xiao said nothing more, leaning back in his chair and continuing to rest with his eyes closed. The window paper had begun to pale, and the sound of young eunuchs sweeping came from the corridor. He made a calculation in his mind. The last time Qi Yu had been unhappy, he had avoided him for seven days. This time would probably take several days again. He would have to think of a way to coax him.