The Dragon Boat Festival

The fifth day of the fifth month, the Dragon Boat Festival.

It was the liveliest festival Xiao Huaijin had spent in all his memory. In previous years, the Eastern Palace had received rice dumplings for the festival too, with red bean paste filling, all made by the imperial kitchens and delivered in food boxes. His nurse would unwrap them and put them on a plate, and he would sit alone at a low table and finish them. This year, Liu An had come with a message the night before.

"His Majesty's oral decree: the crown prince will accompany His Majesty to tomorrow's Dragon Boat Festival banquet."

Xiao Huaijin woke before dawn. He put on his new apricot-yellow robe. His nurse had embroidered another red border around the little four-clawed dragons on the cuffs, making them look livelier than before. He turned this way and that before the bronze mirror, then stood on tiptoe to reach for the ox-horn bow on the windowsill.

"Your Highness!"

His nurse pulled him straight back.

"You're going to a banquet today, not the training grounds."

"What if Father wants me to shoot?"

"There will be no archery today." Caught between exasperation and amusement, his nurse undid his little topknot and tied it again. "Today, you're eating rice dumplings."

The Dragon Boat Festival banquet was held in the Hall of Supreme Harmony. Liu An led Xiao Huaijin in through the eastern side entrance and seated him at the first table on the east side. Before him sat a plate of rice dumplings, a plate of mugwort cakes, and a small bowl of realgar wine. The wine had been diluted with water. Liu An had given special instructions-the crown prince was only five and could not drink the real thing.

The hall was warming up for the festivities. Several young princes and princesses sat beside their mothers, some behaving properly, others already making a fuss. Xiao Huaijin immediately spotted the second prince, Xiao Yu, at the third table opposite. Three-year-old Xiao Yu wore a little sapphire-blue robe. Fair and clean, with hair only just long enough for a tiny topknot, he was playing with his realgar wine, scooping it up with a spoon. His grip was unsteady, and he spilled nearly half the bowl onto the table. Shen Mingzhu reached over and took the spoon from his hand. Her movement was not forceful, but Xiao Yu immediately went still, set both little hands on his knees, and sat properly.

Ceremonial music sounded as Xiao Lin entered from the rear of the hall. The officials throughout the hall rose and bowed. Xiao Lin took his seat, his gaze sweeping over the first table on the east side-Xiao Huaijin was sitting with his back straight and both hands on his knees. He raised his cup.

"Let the banquet begin."

Drums and music struck up, and dancing girls entered. Xiao Huaijin did not watch the performance. He was unwrapping a rice dumpling. It had red bean paste filling, and its string was tied too tightly. After struggling with it for ages, he secretly tried to bite through it. Liu An hurriedly reached out to stop him.

"Your Highness, allow this old servant."

Liu An untied the string for him. Xiao Huaijin unwrapped the dumpling and set it on his plate without eating it. Bending down, Liu An asked, "Why aren't you eating, Your Highness?"

"I'm waiting to eat with Father."

Liu An glanced at Xiao Lin, who was receiving the officials' toasts on the imperial throne, and could not bear to tell him that waiting for his father to eat rice dumplings would probably mean waiting until the banquet ended.

But Xiao Lin saw. Between toasts, he glanced toward the first table on the east side-the dumpling before the child sat neatly in place, untouched. Xiao Lin set down his wine cup, picked up a dumpling from his own plate, unwrapped it, and took a bite.

Only after seeing his father eat did Xiao Huaijin pick up his own dumpling and take a huge bite. His cheeks bulged round, and bean paste clung to the corner of his mouth. Liu An hurriedly offered him a handkerchief. He waved it away, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and took another bite.

After another round of song and dance, several acrobats came out to turn somersaults and balance bowls. Xiao Huaijin watched, absorbed, leaving the dumpling in his hand untouched for a long while. When an acrobat landed steadily after a somersault, he clapped along. Then he stole a glance diagonally across the hall-Xiao Yu was watching the acrobatics too, his eyes wide and round, his mouth slightly open. He had also forgotten to eat the dumpling in his hand.

Amid the music in the center of the hall, the two children's eyes met briefly. Xiao Yu smiled first, showing two little dimples. Xiao Huaijin smiled too. Then he saw Shen Mingzhu lay a hand on Xiao Yu's shoulder. Xiao Yu's smile faded a little, though not entirely.

Halfway through the banquet, Xiao Lin left to change. On his return, he paused beside the first table on the east side and looked down. The dumpling on Xiao Huaijin's plate had only two bites taken out of it and had already gone cold.

"Why aren't you eating?"

Xiao Huaijin tipped his head back. "You left, Father. I wanted to eat with you."

Xiao Lin's Adam's apple shifted. He bent down, lifted Xiao Huaijin, and carried him to the imperial throne, setting him beside his knees. The throne was spacious, with more than enough room for a five-year-old. Xiao Huaijin swung his dangling feet, then edged his whole body closer to his father.

The eyes of every official in the hall gathered on them. The music did not stop, but several ministers in the middle of offering toasts paused with their cups in hand. A few old ministers lowered their heads and exchanged glances. He Qian of the Censorate moved his lips, then closed them again. Remembering the memorial he had failed to submit last time, he decided he had better stick to eating rice dumplings today.

Sitting beside his father, Xiao Huaijin finished his dumpling, then took a mugwort cake from the plate and held it up before him.

"Would you like some, Father?"

Xiao Lin accepted the mugwort cake and took a bite. It was sweet. He disliked sweets, but swallowed it nonetheless.

"Passable."

Xiao Huaijin's eyes lit up. "Father, does 'passable' mean good?"

"It means good."

"Then could you say 'passable' to me every day from now on, Father?"

Xiao Lin did not answer. He broke the mugwort cake in Xiao Huaijin's hand into two, put one half back on his plate, and ate the other himself.

One round of song and dance followed another. Leaning against the imperial throne, Xiao Huaijin's eyelids began to battle. He struggled to hold out for a while, but at last his head tilted, and he fell asleep against his father's arm.

Xiao Lin did not have him carried away. He asked Liu An to fetch a light blanket and cover him, then continued receiving the officials' toasts. The officials offering toasts deliberately lowered their voices. No one dared look too closely at that little bundle of apricot yellow on the imperial throne.

After the banquet ended, Shen Mingzhu led Xiao Yu back by the hand. At the entrance to the Palace of Nurtured Elegance, Xiao Yu suddenly looked up.

"Mother, Crown Prince Brother sat with Father. Can I sit there too?"

Shen Mingzhu looked down at her son. She crouched, straightened his collar, and picked off a grain of sticky rice caught on it.

"Your crown prince brother is the heir apparent. You are an imperial prince. An imperial prince sits where an imperial prince ought to sit."

Xiao Yu blinked. He did not understand the words "heir apparent," but he understood something else from his mother's tone-do not ask what you should not ask. He nodded obediently and let his nurse lead him inside.

Shen Mingzhu stood at the entrance to the Palace of Nurtured Elegance, looking toward the Eastern Palace without expression. The festival moon was bright, shining on her face, washing that layer of dignified smiles so clean that nothing remained.

The day after the Dragon Boat Festival banquet, Consort Jing brought the fourth princess, Xiao Lan, to pay her respects.

Consort Jing's surname was Ji. She was the daughter of Ji Wenzheng, the former head of the Hanlin Academy. She had one daughter, Xiao Lan, who was six that year. Since Ji Wenzheng had died of illness the year before last, Consort Jing had kept an even lower profile in the inner palace-so low that sometimes even the palace servants forgot this mistress existed.

Xiao Lan was a quiet little girl who liked painting flowers and birds. When she followed Consort Jing into the Eastern Palace, Xiao Huaijin was lying under the covered walkway, writing on the ground with a twig. Hearing footsteps, he looked up and saw a girl a little older than him standing before him in a pale-yellow blouse, looking down at his writing.

"What character is that?"

"'Huang.'" Xiao Huaijin pointed with his twig. "The Grand Tutor said this character was the hardest to write. I wrote five, and Father said the fifth one would do."

Xiao Lan crouched and studied it for a while.

"This character is a little fat."

"Father said it would do, not that it was fat."

Xiao Lan thought for a moment, then nodded very solemnly. "If Father said it would do, then it isn't fat."

She took a charcoal pencil from her sleeve and drew a little flower beside it.

"This is an orchid-a lan. It's my name."

Her flower was beautiful, with five petals and two leaves, its lines clean and flowing. Xiao Huaijin studied it for quite some time.

"Sister Lan, could you teach me to draw this?"

"Yes."

Consort Jing and the nurse stood under the covered walkway, watching the two children draw in the courtyard with their heads together. Suddenly, Consort Jing gave a soft laugh.

"Lan'er has hardly had any playmates these past few years. I'm glad His Highness doesn't mind her."

The nurse hurriedly bent her knees. "What are you saying, Your Highness? The fourth princess is as intelligent as she is lovely. His Highness couldn't be happier."

Consort Jing said nothing more, merely standing there watching the children. She watched Xiao Huaijin teach Xiao Lan to write the character for "heaven," and Xiao Lan turn around and draw a butterfly beside it as a demonstration. Their two heads huddled together as they chattered about things only children found interesting.

In the middle of the fifth month, Consort Xian also came to the Eastern Palace with the fifth prince, Xiao Yue.

Consort Xian's surname was Feng. She was the younger sister of Feng Zhaoping, the Jiangnan Salt Transport Commissioner. She was brisk and forthright, spoke a shade louder than the other consorts, and never covered her mouth when she laughed. She was well liked in the inner palace and was closest to Consort Jing; the two often drank tea together. She had one son, Xiao Yue, who was three that year, a sturdy-looking little chubby boy who had started taking tumbles as soon as he learned to run. Two bruises were permanent fixtures on his knees.

The instant Xiao Yue entered the Eastern Palace, he let go of his nurse's hand and ran toward the straw target in the courtyard, wrapping his arms around its pole and refusing to let go.

Xiao Huaijin had just finished a sheet of writing under the covered walkway. Looking up, he saw a plump little bundle in a purple robe hanging from his straw target.

"...What are you doing?"

The plump little bundle did not answer. He was still hugging the target pole.

Consort Xian caught up from behind and scooped up her son, smiling as she greeted Xiao Huaijin. "Please don't take offense, Your Highness. This boy takes after me-he's a hardy little rascal."

Even dangling in midair, Xiao Yue did not cry. His legs kicked back and forth, his eyes fixed on the ox-horn bow Xiao Huaijin had left on the stone table. He pointed.

"Want that!"

Xiao Huaijin glanced at the bow-it was the little bow his father had given him. He wiped it down every day, and the small inscription carved into its back was growing fainter beneath his fingers. He hesitated, then picked it up and handed it to Xiao Yue.

"You can play with it. Don't break it."

Hugging the bow, Xiao Yue grinned.

Sharp-eyed, Consort Xian noticed the inscription on the back of the bow. She gently drew it from her son's hands and returned it to Xiao Huaijin.

"Your Highness, you mustn't let him play with this. He doesn't know his own strength."

She crouched and rubbed her son's head.

"We'll have your father give you one another day. You mustn't snatch your brother's."

Xiao Yue did not quite understand. All he caught was "your father," and he blinked.

"Father?"

Consort Xian froze for a moment, then smiled. Three-year-old Xiao Yue ordinarily never even saw Xiao Lin and did not remember what his father looked like. She picked her son up and changed the subject. "Let's go back and eat cakes."

After Consort Xian and her son left, Xiao Huaijin sat under the covered walkway, wiping the bow. His nurse brought him a bowl of mung bean soup. After two sips, he suddenly said, "Nurse, I see Father every day. He hasn't seen Father."

His nurse took the bowl, unsure how to respond for a moment. Should she say His Majesty favored him-but not long ago, His Highness had been unable to see His Majesty either. She opened her mouth.

"Drink your soup, Your Highness. It will cool you down."

The end of the fifth month, in the imperial study.

Xiao Huaijin was absent that day; his nurse had taken him to Taiye Lake to see the lotus flowers. Zhou Rucheng and Xiao Lin sat facing each other, with a stack of the crown prince's recent writing practice between them. Having looked through it, Zhou Rucheng straightened the sheets and placed them at the edge of the desk.

"His Highness grasps things faster than children his age. But I have noticed that he likes looking out of the window while writing. He watches for a while, then returns to his writing. He isn't distracted-he's looking for something."

"For me."

Zhou Rucheng nodded.

Xiao Lin looked out of the window.

"I did the same as a child."

Zhou Rucheng thought he had misheard. He had taught this man for thirteen years, and never once had he recalled the cold palace before anyone.

"When I looked out of the window then, I was watching to see whether anyone would come. He's watching to see whether I've come."

Zhou Rucheng was silent for a long time. Then he took an old copybook from his sleeve and set it on the desk.

"This is the copybook I used when teaching Your Majesty. If Your Majesty wishes to demonstrate for His Highness, this would be more suitable than the backs of memorials."

The words on the old copybook's cover had worn beyond recognition. Its corners had been stitched back together twice, and its pages were yellowed but as smooth as new. Xiao Lin took it and opened the first page-there were the crooked characters he had written at five: "Heaven and earth, dark and yellow." His strokes were even worse than Xiao Huaijin's were now.

He closed the copybook and placed it at the corner of the desk.

"Grand Tutor. There is something I wish to ask you."

"Please ask, Your Majesty."

"Has anyone come to see the crown prince at the Eastern Palace lately? Aside from Consort Jing and Consort Xian."

Zhou Rucheng considered. "A maid from the Palace of Nurtured Elegance brought mugwort two days ago. She said Her Highness the Noble Consort had sent it to repel mosquitoes for His Highness."

Xiao Lin's gaze darkened.

"Did the crown prince accept it?"

"He did. It is hanging under the Eastern Palace's covered walkway."

Xiao Lin asked nothing more. He put the old copybook in his drawer. The drawer was almost full.

That night, Xiao Huaijin copied the little charcoal flower Xiao Lan had given him from the paving stone beneath the covered walkway onto paper. He drew several, picked the prettiest, and slipped it into his copybook. His nurse urged him to sleep. He climbed into bed and placed the ox-horn bow beside his pillow. As he turned over, his fingers brushed the small inscription on its back.

He closed his eyes and mumbled.

"...Father."

The Eastern Palace's lamps went out. Under the covered walkway, the bundle of mugwort swayed gently in the night breeze, releasing a faint medicinal fragrance.