A laughingstock

At a quarter to six, morning court in Xuanzheng Hall ended. Qi Xiao emerged from the hall, the hem of his dragon robe sweeping over the threshold. De'an followed behind, holding the tablets submitted that morning. The palace lanterns beneath the covered walkway had yet to be extinguished, though daylight was already bright, casting a bluish-white sheen over the white marble balustrade. Qi Xiao walked unhurriedly. Usually, after court, he would return straight to the West Warm Pavilion in Xuanzheng Hall to review memorials, but halfway there, he suddenly paused.

De'an stopped with him. After waiting the space of two breaths, he saw the emperor continue forward.

Tea was already waiting in the West Warm Pavilion. Freshly brewed, it sat clear and bright in a celadon cup, sending up thin wisps of white steam. Qi Xiao sat behind the imperial desk, picked up the Vermilion Brush, and opened the first memorial of the day. De'an ground ink beside him, turning the ink stick slowly over the inkstone. The pavilion was silent, save for the rustle of memorials and the faint scratch of the brush tip over paper. After reviewing three memorials, Qi Xiao lifted his teacup and took a sip. The tea was still hot. He set the cup down and continued with the fourth.

By nine, the sun outside had climbed high, and the lanterns beneath the walkway had long since been extinguished. De'an brought in a fresh pot of tea and noticed that the completed memorials on the imperial desk numbered only half the usual amount. The emperor had always reviewed memorials quickly, but today he seemed somewhat distracted, reading each one for a long while before setting brush to paper.

Usually, at this hour, Qi Xiao knew without even looking up that the study door would open a crack. Then a fluffy head would poke through the gap, first the forehead, then the eyes, before the whole person slipped out from behind the door. Sometimes he carried a plate of pastries, sometimes a book he had just finished, and sometimes nothing at all. He would arrive empty-handed, plant himself in front of the imperial desk, and begin chattering away.

Yesterday morning, Qi Yu had brought a bowl of almond cream, saying the Imperial Kitchen had learned a new recipe and insisting that his imperial father try it. Qi Xiao took a mouthful and said it was too sweet. Qi Yu did not believe him. He took the spoon and tasted it himself, then scrunched up his entire face and said the Imperial Kitchen must have put in twice the sugar. He carried the bowl away and returned an incense stick's time later with another, saying he had made the Imperial Kitchen prepare it again with only half the sugar this time. Qi Xiao tasted it, and it was indeed no longer too sweet. Qi Yu stood beside him and watched him finish it, his eyes curving with his smile as though he had won some great battle.

The morning before that, Qi Yu had arrived holding a travelogue, turning to a page and insisting on reading it to his imperial father. He said the book described a fruit in the South called lychee, with flesh as white as jade and sweet juice that flowed out at a bite. He asked whether his imperial father had eaten it. Qi Xiao said he had. He asked whether it tasted good. Qi Xiao said it was all right. He then asked when his imperial father would take him to the South to eat it fresh. Qi Xiao said, when peace reigned throughout the realm. Qi Yu closed the book and said he would go fight the realm into peace right now. Qi Xiao glanced at him and said he should first bring peace to his schoolwork. Qi Yu puffed out his cheeks, rolled over on the couch, covered his face with the book, and fell silent. Less than half a cup of tea's time later, he took the book off his face and began reading the next passage.

Today, there was nothing. No one pushed open the door, no one poked his head inside, and no one brought a bowl of almond cream to complain that the Imperial Kitchen had added too much sugar. The doors of the West Warm Pavilion stayed tightly shut, opening only when De'an occasionally came and went to replace the tea, then closing again.

When Qi Xiao reached the eleventh memorial, he set down his brush.

"De'an."

"Your servant is here."

"What time is it?"

"Your Majesty, it is a quarter to ten."

Qi Xiao nodded and picked up his brush again. De'an stood beside him for a moment before lowering his head and continuing to grind ink. The ink was already thick enough, but he kept grinding.

At lunchtime, attendants from the Imperial Kitchen brought in the midday meal. Four dishes and a soup were arranged on the small table beside the West Warm Pavilion. Qi Xiao ate alone and ate little. He picked up a piece of steamed bass, chewed twice, and put it down. Resting his chopsticks against the edge of his bowl, he lifted his teacup and rinsed his mouth. Usually, Qi Yu would sometimes come running over at lunchtime to cadge a meal. He would already have eaten in Yuning Hall, but he still insisted on coming over for another meal. He said the dishes at his imperial father's table tasted better than those in Yuning Hall. Qi Xiao said they were made by the same Imperial Kitchen. Qi Yu said they were different: his imperial father's dishes were arranged more prettily.

Today, that set of bowl and chopsticks remained untouched. After lunch, Qi Xiao continued reviewing memorials. In the afternoon, he worked somewhat faster than he had in the morning. He finished more than a dozen memorials that afternoon, including the one submitted by Henan Circuit concerning the collection of the autumn grain levy, which he had originally intended to leave until tomorrow to read carefully.

De'an attended him without saying anything. He replaced the emperor's tea three times, replenished his ink twice, and went out beneath the walkway to instruct a young eunuch to wipe the dust from the pillars. When he returned, he found the emperor leaning against the back of his chair, holding the Vermilion Brush with its tip suspended above the inkstone, without dipping it in. The little bit of red ink on its tip was nearly dry.

De'an walked over and shifted the inkstone half an inch to one side. Qi Xiao lowered his brush, dipped it into the inkstone, and continued writing. His characters remained steady, their horizontal and vertical strokes precise and meticulous.

At dinnertime, the attendants from the Imperial Kitchen came again. This time, there were six dishes and a soup. Qi Xiao sat behind the imperial desk, watching the palace attendants place the dishes on the table one by one. He picked up his chopsticks, took a slice of bamboo shoot, chewed it, and swallowed. He put down his chopsticks and lifted his teacup. The tea had gone cold, and De'an hurried forward to replace it with a hot cup.

Qi Xiao took a sip of hot tea and set down the cup. "The Fourth Prince did not leave Yuning Hall today."

He said it evenly, as though stating a fact. Yet De'an's hand paused slightly around the teapot. He placed it on the low table beside him and stood straight with his hands lowered.

"Your Majesty, your servant sent someone to ask A Ping at noon today. A Ping said that after the Fourth Prince returned from hunting yesterday, his arms were terribly sore."

Qi Xiao raised his eyes. "Terribly sore."

"Yes. A Ping said the Fourth Prince drew his bow all day yesterday. It was a new bow, half a catty heavier than the one His Highness usually uses. His Highness was carried away chasing rabbits through the woods and did not notice. After returning and sleeping, he woke this morning unable to lift either arm." De'an paused here, then added, "A maid in Yuning Hall fed him his breakfast. His lunch, too."

Qi Xiao looked at him. "Why was this not reported?"

"A Ping said the Fourth Prince would not allow it. His Highness said that if his imperial father learned he had drawn a bow until he could no longer lift his arms, he would certainly laugh at him."

Qi Xiao gave a soft snort. He rose from behind the imperial desk, walked to the small table, and looked at the dishes on it. Dinner was more lavish than lunch. There was a braised pork knuckle, Qi Yu's favorite, and sweet-and-sour ribs, which Qi Yu also loved. The Imperial Kitchen had not known the Fourth Prince would not come today and had prepared them as usual.

Qi Xiao picked up his chopsticks and took a piece of rib. It had been fried golden, and the sweet-and-sour sauce glistened on the meat. He placed it in his bowl without eating it immediately.

"He cannot lift his arms."

"Yes."

"At his age, he managed to do that to his arms just drawing a bow. Could he not tell it was half a catty heavier?"

De'an did not answer. He knew the emperor did not need a response to that. Sure enough, Qi Xiao spoke again.

"Have the Imperial Medical Bureau send medicine."

"Your Majesty, the Imperial Medical Bureau has already sent some. When the Crown Prince returned to the palace yesterday, he sent someone to fetch it from the Imperial Medical Bureau, specifically choosing medicinal oil to promote circulation and disperse bruising. Chun He massaged it into the Fourth Prince's arms twice this morning."

Qi Xiao rested his chopsticks against the edge of his bowl. They made a soft sound as they touched the rim. "The Crown Prince went to the hunting grounds yesterday."

"Your Majesty, the Crown Prince went to the West Mountain Hunting Grounds yesterday. However, he did not enter the woods and stayed at the hunting grounds for only about two hours. First, he stood by the edge of the hunting enclosure for a while, then went to Marquis Jinghai's tent for tea. He returned together with the Fourth Prince, who rode in the Crown Prince's carriage."

"And he himself?"

"The Crown Prince carried the Fourth Prince from the palace gates to Yuning Hall. The Fourth Prince had fallen asleep in the carriage."

Qi Xiao said nothing. He picked up the rib in his bowl and ate it, chewing slowly. De'an stood beside him for a moment before speaking again.

"The Crown Prince also sent someone to the Eastern Palace to fetch wrist guards, saying they were for the Fourth Prince to use when drawing his bow. They arrived at Yuning Hall just this morning."

"How very thoughtful of him."

Qi Xiao set down his chopsticks, rose, and returned to his place behind the imperial desk. He asked no more about Qi Yu, picking up the Vermilion Brush again and opening the next memorial. De'an cleared away the bowls and plates, then ground more ink.

Silence settled over the West Warm Pavilion again. The candle flames flickered, making the shadow of the stack of memorials on the imperial desk sway across the wall. After reviewing two memorials, Qi Xiao suddenly said without looking up, "Have the Imperial Kitchen make a bowl of almond cream tomorrow morning. Half the sugar."

The corners of De'an's mouth moved. "Your servant obeys."

When De'an emerged from the West Warm Pavilion, all the palace lanterns beneath the walkway were lit. An evening breeze blew past. He gathered his sleeves and glanced toward Yuning Hall. A small patch of deep-blue sky showed between the distant palace walls. The brightest star had just risen and twinkled above the corner of the eaves. He instructed the young eunuch beside him to take word to the Imperial Kitchen, then remained beneath the walkway a moment longer. Afterward, he turned and went back into the West Warm Pavilion.