Feelings

It was the beginning of the hour of the Rabbit. A thin wash of gray-white had just appeared on the window paper, and dawn was still some way off. The bedchamber in Xuanzheng Hall was quiet. The flame in the corner lamp had burned all night, leaving a shallow layer of charred wick in the bowl. Its dim light barely outlined the dragon bed.

Qi Xiao woke first. Years of habit made him open his eyes automatically when it was time for morning court, even though he had reviewed memorials until nearly midnight the night before. He did not move at once. Qi Xiao did not touch him again. He lay there for a while, looking at the five-clawed dragons embroidered on the canopy and listening to the distant watch bells from the bell tower outside. The bell marking the beginning of the hour of the Rabbit had not yet rung; it was probably still the end of the hour of the Tiger. In less than an hour, De'an would come to wake him.

In the end, he gently lifted Qi Yu's hand from his chest and put it back under the covers. Then he threw back the quilt, sat up, and set his bare feet on the footstool. The footstool was made of red sandalwood and felt icy underfoot in winter, but he was used to it. He bent down, pulled up the quilt piled at the foot of the bed, shook it out, and covered Qi Yu again. The boy's shoulders were exposed, and the collar of his nightclothes had slipped crookedly in his sleep, revealing a small stretch of collarbone. He tucked the corner of the quilt beneath his chin, his fingers accidentally brushing that patch of skin. It was warm, still holding the heat of sleep. He withdrew his hand, stood up, and picked up the outer robe draped over the clothes stand at the foot of the bed, slipping it on. His movements were very light, keeping the rustle of fabric to a minimum.

The washroom door closed softly behind him. Water sounded inside, very faintly, as though the flow had deliberately been reduced. De'an was already waiting at the door with two young eunuchs. The hot water in the bronze basin was neither too hot nor too cool, a cloth hung over its rim, court robes hung on the screen, and the beads on the court crown glimmered faintly in the morning light. De'an was about to follow him inside to attend him when Qi Xiao said, "No need." He stopped, retreated beneath the covered walkway, and waited with his fly whisk gathered in his hands.

Qi Xiao stood before the basin stand, soaked the cloth in cold water, and wrung it out. The shock of cold water against his face dispelled most of his lingering drowsiness. After wiping his face, he set the cloth on the rim of the basin and changed into his court robes himself. As he fastened his belt, the bronze clasp clicked. He paused and glanced back toward the door. There was no sound outside. He secured his crown and straightened the pin in the bronze mirror. The man in the mirror was immaculately dressed, the gold-thread buttons at his collar neatly fastened, the silver patterns at his cuffs glinting faintly in the morning light.

When he emerged from the washroom, he was once again Emperor Chengwu, as unshakable as a mountain.

He walked to the bedside and looked down at Qi Yu. At some point, the boy had kicked the quilt off again. One leg lay over it, his ankle showing beneath his night trousers. The swelling from his last sprain had already subsided, leaving only a very faint bruise. Qi Xiao bent down, took hold of that ankle, and gently tucked it back beneath the quilt. At his touch, Qi Yu drowsily opened his eyes.

His eyes were still heavily misted, and his unfocused pupils took quite a while to slowly settle. He looked at his father's face-the collar of his dragon robe was neatly fastened, his beard had been shaved clean, and a little moisture that had not been wiped away still clung to his temples, glimmering faintly in the morning light. He reached out and lightly touched that damp patch at his temple.

"Cold."

Qi Xiao took his fingers and put them back beneath the quilt. "I just washed my face. It's still early. Sleep a little longer."

"You haven't said good morning to me yet." Qi Yu's voice came from beneath the quilt, muffled and carrying the particular rasp of someone freshly awake. He pulled the quilt up until only half his face showed, looking at his father over its edge.

The hall doors closed softly.

Beneath the covered walkway came the sound of young eunuchs sweeping. Brooms brushed over the bluestone paving with a rustle like silkworms munching mulberry leaves. At last, the distant bell tower rang out the hour of the Rabbit, its deep notes carrying far between the palace walls. A new day had begun.

It was fully light by the time Chun He arrived at Yuning Hall. She carried a food box into the bedchamber and found that His Highness was not in bed, and the quilt had been folded neatly. She paused, then turned to ask A Ping where His Highness was. A Ping was feeding the rabbit in the Side Hall. Gray Rabbit had snatched the carrot from his hand, and he was staring it down. He looked up and said that His Highness had risen at the middle of the hour of the Rabbit, combed his own hair and dressed himself, and said he wanted to return to Yuning Hall for breakfast. Chun He looked at the neatly folded quilt on the table, then at the nightclothes hanging tidily on the clothes stand, somewhat surprised. Usually, when His Highness spent the night at Xuanzheng Hall, he would never get up until the sun was high.

Qi Yu was already seated at the small table in Yuning Hall. He poured himself a cup of tea, then took the almond cream and Osmanthus Cake out of the food box one by one and arranged them. The Osmanthus Cake was still warm, and the dried osmanthus blossoms embedded in its surface trembled slightly in the steam. He picked up a piece with his chopsticks and set it on his plate, then put another in the empty bowl beside it. A Ping came out of the Side Hall to wash his hands, saw the empty bowl on the table, and asked whom His Highness was waiting for. Qi Yu said he was not waiting for anyone; he had merely taken out an extra set of bowl and chopsticks. A Ping said, "Oh," and asked no more. He served Qi Yu a bowl of congee, then took the ginseng soup out of the food box and set it beside his hand. Sure enough, there were two red dates in the ginseng soup, stewed so soft that they fell apart at a touch of the chopsticks. Qi Yu lowered his head to look at the two dates, and the corners of his mouth lifted. He picked out the dates and ate them, then lifted the ginseng soup and drained it in one go. It was still bitter, but swallowing it was not so unpleasant today.

After breakfast, he stood before the bronze mirror and straightened his collar, then took something from his sleeve and placed it on the table. It was a clean handkerchief folded into a neat square, plain white, with no embroidery at the corners. He pushed it forward a little and told Chun He, "Help me deliver this to Father after morning court." Chun He picked it up and examined it. The handkerchief was made of the most ordinary plain white cotton, without any decoration, washed very clean and folded neatly. She asked His Highness what it was for. Qi Yu had already stepped over the threshold. He looked back and said, "Father went to the washroom to wash his face this morning, and his cuff got wet. Put a fresh, dry handkerchief in his sleeve." With that, he walked toward the Imperial Study, the tips of his ears faintly red in the morning light. Chun He stood beneath the covered walkway holding the handkerchief, watched His Highness's retreating figure disappear at the end of the palace path, then looked down again at the white handkerchief folded into a neat square in her hand. She could not help smiling. She carefully tucked it into her sleeve, thinking that when she went to Xuanzheng Hall to deliver breakfast later, she would pass it to De'an along the way.