Little bunny

The hunting grounds had bustled for most of the day. By the hour of the Monkey, the sun had begun slanting west, stretching the shadows of the tents long. When Qi Yu emerged from the woods, his face was flushed, and the sweat at his temples glittered in the sunlight. He carried a wild rabbit a full size larger than the Gray Rabbit from that morning, its hind legs still kicking. A Ping jogged up to meet him, took the rabbit, tied its hind legs with a rope, and stuffed it into a burlap sack.

"Your Highness, you're drenched in sweat. You must change as soon as we get back." Qi Yu ignored him and called back to Xie Ning. "Xie Ning, I'm leaving first. Watch the rabbits for me. I'll have someone send you half of one tomorrow."

Xie Ning was drinking water beside the white horse and nearly choked at that. "Half a rabbit? Your Highness, we hunted six rabbits and three pheasants, and you're only giving me half a rabbit?"

"Then you can have a whole one. A gray one. Pick it yourself." Qi Yu waved and ran toward the blue-curtained carriage without looking back.

Xie Ning stood there holding his waterskin, glanced at the little gray rabbit in the burlap sack sniffing his fingers, and let the corners of his mouth lift. He handed the waterskin to the servant beside him, crouched down, and rubbed the rabbit's ears with his fingers.

At the edge of the hunting grounds, the guards were already dismantling the tents. The charcoal fires had been doused, the roasting racks packed away, and the horses fitted with their bits again. The sons of several ducal and marquis households mounted one after another, preparing to leave. Wang Yuan rode over on his big chestnut horse and cupped his hands to Xie Ning.

"Second Young Master Xie, today was most enjoyable. When I have some free time another day, I'll call at your residence for a cup of tea." Xie Ning stood, brushed the bits of grass from his knees, and returned the salute. "Safe travels, Young Master Wang."

He spoke with a courteous smile. Wang Yuan gave him another look, then urged his horse away. Wang Heng followed behind. As he passed Xie Ning, he slowed half a step, his gaze lingering on the Gray Rabbit for a moment before he looked away and caught up with his brother.

The blue-curtained carriage stood beneath an old elm at the entrance to the hunting grounds, its shade covering most of the carriage. The two black-maned horses pulling it had their heads lowered and were swishing their tails to drive away flies. Old Zhao, the driver, sat dozing on the shaft with a straw hat over his face. At the sound of footsteps, he hurriedly took it off.

"Your Highness." Old Zhao jumped down from the shaft and set out the mounting stool. Qi Yu did not use it. Bracing one hand on the shaft, he pushed off with his legs and climbed aboard in one deft movement. As he lifted the curtain, a faint sandalwood fragrance greeted him.

The carriage was roomier inside than it looked from outside. Two rows of cushioned seats faced each other, with bamboo mats laid over the cushions and brocade backrests. A small bronze stove stood in the corner, unlit and unnecessary in the heat. Bamboo blinds hung over the windows, letting sunlight seep through the gaps between the slats and cast thin stripes of light and shadow across the cushions.

Qi Ling sat on the inner row of cushions, looking down at a book in his hands. When Qi Yu entered, he did not even lift his eyes, only shifted half an inch to make room for him.

Qi Yu sat opposite him. The carriage curtain fell, and the noise outside suddenly grew distant. Old Zhao called out from the shaft, and the carriage rocked gently before starting forward. The wheels rumbled dully over the gravel road, and the carriage jolted slightly.

After sitting for a while, Qi Yu leaned back against the cushions. The bamboo mat was cool enough for him to feel it through his clothes. He closed his eyes, feeling his whole body relax. Only now, after bouncing about on horseback for most of the day, did he feel tired. His arms ached, and so did his thighs, especially his right arm, which still trembled a little from drawing the bow.

The shadows of the bamboo blinds swayed back and forth across his face. He opened his eyes and looked at his brother opposite him.

Qi Ling was still reading with his head lowered, one hand supporting the spine of the book while the other turned the pages. His movements were light, his fingertips pinching the corner of a page, then running along the gutter to press it down once he had turned it. His moon-white sleeve rested on his knee. Qi Yu watched him turn two pages, then suddenly stood, stooped to cross the gap between them, and plopped down beside Qi Ling.

Qi Ling was jostled sideways, nearly dropping his book. "Can't you sit opposite me?"

"It's bumpy over there," Qi Yu said.

The excuse was so flimsy that even he did not believe it. Both rows of seats had the same cushions; if the carriage jolted, it would be just as bumpy wherever he sat. But he did not care. He had already sat down and begun taking off his boots, kicking both of them away until only his white cloth socks remained. Then he drew up his legs and curled onto the cushions, nuzzling his head against Qi Ling's leg until he found a comfortable spot and buried his face in the moon-white fabric at his brother's waist.

The wheels rolled over a stretch of gravel, jolting the carriage several times. Qi Yu's forehead bumped against the leather belt at Qi Ling's waist. He made a small sound and reached out to push it aside. Qi Ling glanced down at him, set down his book, and unfastened his black leather belt with one hand, pulling it free and laying it on the seat beside him. Then he picked up his book again.

Now Qi Yu's face rested against soft fabric rather than hard leather. The clothes smelled of sandalwood, with a faint trace of ink. He sniffed and buried his face a little deeper.

The wind lifted a corner of the carriage curtain, letting the light outside fall on Qi Yu's hair. He had not worn a crown today, using only a white jade hairpin to secure his hair. His imperial father had given him the pin for his birthday last year, and a little qilin was carved into its head. Now the pin had slipped askew, and a few strands of hair had come loose and fallen against his neck.

Qi Ling gathered those strands and tucked them behind his ear. His fingers brushed Qi Yu's ear; its tip was cool.

"Cold?"

"No." Qi Yu's voice was already growing drowsy.

Outside, A Ping rode a short-legged horse alongside the carriage. He leaned over to listen, but there was no sound from inside now. He gestured to Old Zhao to slow down. Old Zhao loosened the reins, and the two black-maned horses slowed from a brisk walk to a leisurely one.

Inside the carriage, Qi Yu had already fallen asleep.

He looked completely different asleep than he did awake. Awake, he bounced up and down and chattered without stopping, as though all of Yuning Hall could not contain him alone. Asleep, he was quiet, his lips slightly parted and his eyelashes occasionally stirring. His face rested against Qi Ling's thigh, pushing up the flesh of one cheek and nudging the corner of his mouth into a faint smile, as though he were having some pleasant dream.

Qi Ling closed his book and set it on the seat beside him. He lowered his head and gazed at the fluffy head on his lap for a long while. Qi Yu's eyelashes were very long. In that, he took after their mother.

Qi Ling had seen the late empress's portrait. The one hanging in the Side Hall of Xuanzheng Hall depicted their mother at twenty. She sat in a chair wearing phoenix robes, a peony in her hand and gentleness in her eyes and brows. He saw that painting whenever he went to pay his respects. The eyelashes of the woman in the painting were exactly like those of the boy on his lap.

Beside that portrait, on another wall of Xuanzheng Hall, hung a smaller painting. It depicted their mother holding an infant wrapped in bright yellow swaddling clothes, with only a tiny, wrinkled face showing. It was a portrait from the day Qi Yu turned one month old. The painter had taken three days to finish it, and the late empress had inscribed it herself. In delicate handwriting, she had written, "Ning'er is one month old. May my child be safe and well."

Less than a year after the painting was finished, their mother had passed away. Qi Ling looked at the face on his lap and laid his palm over Qi Yu's hair. The boy's hair was soft and smooth, slipping through his fingers just as it had when he was little. Qi Yu had begun sleeping with their imperial father when he was two. Back then, his head had still been covered in a layer of down, soft as a kitten's belly to the touch. Now he had a thick head of black hair.

The carriage passed through a stretch of woodland, and the light and shadows on the bamboo blinds flickered. Qi Ling's hand rested on Qi Yu's hair for a while before he lifted it and gently patted his back twice. Qi Yu burrowed toward his chest in his sleep and mumbled something indistinct.

Qi Ling lowered his head and listened closely. He could not make it out. He was probably dreaming of chasing rabbits.

The carriage traveled on for a while longer. When it reached the West City Gate, the soldiers on duty saw its emblem and hurriedly cleared the way. Beyond the gate lay the streets of Capital City, and vendors' cries drifted in through the bamboo blinds. Sellers of candied hawthorn skewers, wontons, and cosmetics called out one after another. One vendor had a particularly loud voice, shouting, "Fresh Osmanthus Cake!" Qi Ling glanced outside. Xie Chen was riding beside the carriage, and when he saw the Crown Prince lift the curtain, he bent down.

"Your Highness, shall we stop?"

"No. Go a little slower."

Xie Chen straightened and gestured to the guards ahead. The entire party slowed a little more.

Qi Yu was not woken by the noise. He slept so deeply that even several jolts as the carriage crossed a stretch of rutted road did not wake him.

Qi Ling laid his hand over that hand. Qi Yu's fingers stirred, and in his sleep, he clasped Qi Ling's hand as well.

The carriage had traveled for nearly two hours, and it was almost the hour of the Rooster when they reached the palace gates. Seeing that it was a carriage from the Eastern Palace, the imperial guards at the gates all stepped aside. The carriage did not stop, driving straight through the palace gates. Its wheels rumbled over the blue stone slabs of the imperial road.

Xie Chen dismounted at the palace gates. As an Eastern Palace official, it was not appropriate for him to enter the rear palace. He bowed toward the carriage at the gates, then turned and headed toward the Eastern Palace. A Ping rode his short-legged horse all the way to the outside of Yuning Hall before dismounting and jogging over to lift the curtain.

A Ping lifted the carriage curtain and looked inside. His Fourth Prince was curled on the Crown Prince's lap, sleeping with a glistening thread of drool at the corner of his mouth. The Crown Prince's moon-white robes had been rubbed into wrinkles, his leather belt lay unfastened to one side, and he still held a book. The sight looked rather strange: one was the Crown Prince with his strict rules, the other the Fourth Prince sleeping without a shred of decorum, yet the two of them crowded onto one row of seats as though this were exactly how they ought to sit.

A Ping opened his mouth and was about to wake Qi Yu when Qi Ling raised a hand to stop him. Qi Ling set the book aside and gently pried apart, one by one, Qi Yu's fingers clutching the corner of his robe. Then he slipped his arms beneath Qi Yu's knees and back and lifted him securely.

Qi Ling held him steadily, his steps never wavering as he descended from the carriage. Qi Yu frowned slightly when he was moved, turned his face toward Qi Ling's chest, and fell asleep again.

From the palace gate to Yuning Hall, there was a fairly long covered corridor to traverse. As Qi Ling carried Qi Yu along it, the young eunuchs beneath the eaves lowered their heads one by one, not daring to breathe loudly. The Crown Prince seldom came to the rear palace, and on the occasional visit, he came to pay his respects to the empress, looking neither left nor right and never wearing an unnecessary expression. Today, this Crown Prince carried someone in his arms, walking swiftly and steadily, the moon-white hem of his robe streaming behind him in the wind. Beside him, the eunuch A Ping carried a pair of small boots, jogging all the way.

Chun He was wiping the doorframe at the hall entrance. Seeing the Crown Prince approaching from afar with someone in his arms, she nearly dropped her cloth. She hurriedly stepped aside and lowered her head. Only when he passed her did she see that the person in his arms was her own prince. The Fourth Prince's face was buried against the Crown Prince's chest, and his feet were bare of shoes, with a small patch of mud on his white cloth socks.

The Crown Prince carried him into the bedchamber and walked to the bed. The bedding had already been laid out, with two pillows set side by side, one of brocade and the other of plain cotton. Qi Ling bent and laid Qi Yu on the bed as gently as if he were setting down a piece of porcelain.

For an instant, Qi Yu woke as his back touched the bed. His eyelids opened a crack, and he dimly saw a face.

"Brother."

"Mm."

"Rabbit."

"A Ping is watching it."

"Hungry."

"Eat when you wake up."

Whether Qi Yu had taken any of it in was unclear; his eyes had already closed again. He rolled over, buried his face in the cotton pillow, and kicked twice, pushing the quilt aside.

Qi Ling stood beside the bed, looking at the brocade quilt. He bent to pick it up, shook it out, and spread it over Qi Yu. He tucked the edges in, settling it beneath his chin.

"Chun He."

Chun He hurried in from outside the door. "Here, Your Highness."

"Prepare some light congee tonight for when he wakes. Have A Ping find a cage for the rabbit and put it in the Side Hall. Don't let it escape."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Qi Ling looked at Qi Yu once more. The boy was curled into a ball beneath the quilt, his head buried in the pillow, his hair completely loose, and his white jade hairpin tilted to one side, about to fall out. Qi Ling reached out and gently drew it free, setting it on the low table beside the bed. The little qilin carved into its head glowed softly in the candlelight.

Then he turned to leave. At the doorway, he paused. "Have someone go to the Eastern Palace tomorrow to collect a pair of wrist guards. For him to use when drawing his bow."

"As you command, Your Highness."

Qi Ling left. Chun He stood in the bedchamber, looking at Qi Yu on the bed, then at the moon-white figure receding beyond the doorway. She went over, straightened the pillow Qi Yu had kicked askew, and tucked in the quilt again.

A Ping came over from the Side Hall, still carrying the small boots, and stood at the door, craning his head inside. "Is His Highness asleep?"

"He is."

"I've shut the rabbit in its cage and fed it half a radish."

"His Highness the Crown Prince said to have someone bring over wrist guards tomorrow." A Ping paused in surprise. "His Highness the Crown Prince is so good to our prince." Chun He lowered her head to look at the utterly unguarded sleeping face on the bed and gently brushed aside a strand of hair from his forehead. Sweat had soaked it and stuck it to his skin, and it took two tries to move it away.

"Do you think the Fourth Prince knows the Crown Prince went to the hunting grounds today especially to see him?" A Ping set the boots on the shoe rack beside the door.

Chun He said nothing. She picked up the white jade hairpin from the low table, carefully wiped it with a soft cloth, and placed it in the dressing case. The little qilin on its head gleamed one last time before disappearing into the case. Outside the window, dusk deepened, and the palace lanterns of Yuning Hall lit up one after another. Rustling came from the Side Hall, probably the Gray Rabbit gnawing on its radish in the cage.