Summer Solstice

Day broke early. Before the hour of the Dragon, the sun had already heated the Eastern Palace's glazed tiles through. Cicadas began calling in the parasol trees, one cry after another, making such a racket that even an afternoon nap offered no restful sleep.

Xiao Huaijin lay on his stomach on a cooling mat in the Eastern Palace's main hall, a copy of the Thousand Character Classic spread before him and a bowl of sour plum soup beside him, its ice almost completely melted. His nursemaid sat on the threshold doing needlework, glancing up at him now and then. He recited, "Cold comes and heat departs; autumn harvests, winter stores," then closed the book, rolled over, and said to the rafters, "Nanny, it's hot."

"A calm heart will keep Your Highness cool."

"How do I calm my heart?"

The nursemaid put down her needlework and thought for a moment. "Write another two pages, Your Highness. You'll be cool once you've finished."

Xiao Huaijin rolled back onto his stomach, buried his face in his arms, and said in a muffled voice, "You're fibbing, Nanny. Writing makes my hands even hotter."

Despite his words, he still got up, sat at the low table, and picked up his brush to write. He got stuck on the character for "summer heat"-a "sun" above a "person," with the two parts never quite lining up. Either the "sun" went crooked or the "person" slanted. After writing three unsatisfactory attempts in a row, he set down his brush, lifted the sour plum soup, and took a great gulp. The icy, sweet-and-sour liquid slid down his throat, making him narrow his eyes in pleasure. Then he picked up his brush and went on writing.

Shortly before noon, someone came to the Eastern Palace.

It was a palace maid from the Palace of Nurtured Elegance, carrying a bamboo basket filled with several bunches of gleaming purple grapes. She greeted the nursemaid at the door and said the Noble Consort had sent these to help His Highness the Crown Prince cool off. The grapes were newly delivered tribute from Hejian Prefecture, the first crop of the year. The nursemaid accepted the basket and thanked her. The palace maid did not linger, but turned and left.

The nursemaid brought the grapes inside and set them on the table. Xiao Huaijin looked at the grapes, then at her, and asked, "Why did the Noble Consort send me grapes?"

"The Noble Consort was thinking of Your Highness."

Xiao Huaijin reached out and touched the skin of a grape without picking it. After a moment's thought, he pushed the grapes to the other side of the table.

"Nanny, leave them for now. We'll eat them together when Father comes."

The nursemaid sighed inwardly. She did not press him, merely placing the grapes beside the ice basin so they would not shrivel. She knew it was not that His Highness disliked grapes-the Noble Consort had also attended the Dragon Boat Festival banquet, and she remembered perfectly the look in his eyes when he saw the Noble Consort rest her hand on Xiao Yu's shoulder. A five-year-old could not articulate any grand principles, but he knew who truly smiled at him and who merely arranged a smile on their face.

That afternoon, Consort Jing came again with Xiao Lan.

Xiao Lan had been visiting the Eastern Palace frequently these past few days, more often than in all the previous years put together. At first, it was because Xiao Huaijin had begged her to teach him to draw flowers. Later, she became even more eager to come than he was to ask her-the Eastern Palace had a straw target, a younger brother willing to draw with her, and a nursemaid who never minded how little she spoke. She felt stifled in her own palace. Though her mother, Consort Jing, loved her, she spent most of her time sitting by the window reading, seldom speaking.

The moment Xiao Lan came in, she saw the plate of grapes on the table and asked where they had come from. Xiao Huaijin said the Noble Consort had sent them. Xiao Lan blinked, sat beside the low table, and said, "My mother says it's fine to look at things from the Noble Consort's palace, but not to touch them." Her tone was flat, as though she were reciting a lesson.

The nursemaid heard this from beside them, and her needle paused. Consort Jing had probably said that in private in her own palace, never expecting her daughter to repeat it so bluntly in the Eastern Palace. The nursemaid said nothing and lowered her head to continue sewing the cuff.

Xiao Huaijin looked at the grapes, then at Xiao Lan, and pushed the plate farther aside, out of sight behind the ice basin. Then he picked up the brush and offered it to Xiao Lan. "Sister Lan, let's not draw flowers today-teach me to write 'summer heat.' Mine always comes out crooked."

"'Summer heat'?" Xiao Lan took the brush. "That character's so hard."

"That's why I need you to teach me."

The words "you teach me" pleased Xiao Lan immensely. She straightened her back and neatly wrote the character on the paper. Her handwriting was considerably tidier than Xiao Huaijin's-a girl's hands were steady, and she was a year older than him, too. Her horizontal strokes were level and her vertical strokes straight, making the character look clean and crisp. Xiao Huaijin leaned over to study it, then copied it, drawing a tiger after a cat. It was still crooked.

"Here-look at mine." Xiao Lan demonstrated again. "The 'sun' needs to be flatter, and the 'person' narrower. Your 'sun' is too round. It looks like the sun."

"It is the sun."

"A character isn't the sun!"

The two argued for a while about whether the "sun" at the top of "summer heat" was actually the sun. In the end, Xiao Lan unilaterally declared victory on the grounds that she was older. Unconvinced, Xiao Huaijin wrote another one. This time the "sun" was flat, but the "person" was still fat. Xiao Lan examined it and gave a reluctant nod.

"A little better than before. Just a little."

Watching the two children write with their heads together, the nursemaid's lips slowly curved into a smile.

That same evening, the atmosphere in the Hall of Mental Cultivation was entirely different.

The third secret memorial submitted by Minister of Revenue Sun Jingtang lay open on the imperial desk. Xiao Lin had already read it. Beside it lay the latest intelligence Kong Wu had just delivered-he had only just returned from outside the palace and had yet to change out of his civilian clothes.

"Cui Shen's ancestral home is in Hejian Prefecture, in the same county as Shen Boyong's." Standing before the desk, Kong Wu pointed at an unfolded map. "The nominal owner of the Hengtai Firm is a local merchant surnamed Cui. I sent men to investigate in Hejian and discovered that this merchant doesn't exist-there are storefronts, but no such person. The man actually running the Hengtai Firm is a clan nephew of Shen Boyong's named Shen Yue. Cui Shen merely signs off and supplies the silver. Once the silver reaches the Hengtai Firm, it goes straight into the Shen Clan's pockets."

Xiao Lin studied the unmarked route on the map and asked, "How many prefectures and counties does the road from Hejian to the capital pass through?"

"Seven. The magistrates of three of those counties are Shen Boyong's protégés, and the prefects of two prefectures are related to the Shen Clan by marriage."

Kong Wu paused after speaking. "Your Majesty, there is something I don't quite understand. The Shen Clan is already the chancellor's household, its power overshadowing court and country. Why embezzle these fifty thousand taels? That is no great sum to them."

"The fifty thousand taels are a test." Xiao Lin's voice was level. "If they can swallow military pay without anyone pursuing the matter, the next step is to double it. One step at a time, until, by the final step, no one can stop them."

Kong Wu fell silent for a moment, then understood. They were testing more than the silver. They were testing the response at every checkpoint-whether the Ministry of Revenue dared investigate, whether the Censorate dared impeach, and whether His Majesty dared pursue the matter to the end.

"Your Majesty, should I simply raid the Hengtai Firm?"

Xiao Lin shook his head. "Raid one firm, and the Shen Clan can open another tomorrow. We cannot beat the grass and startle the snake by investigating the accounts. We must pry this open from within the Ministry of War. Give me a list of the clerks who handled those funds for repairing military equipment. Do not leave out a single one."

Kong Wu took a list from inside his robe and placed it on the desk. Xiao Lin glanced over it. The signature at the bottom belonged not to Cui Shen, but to an inconspicuous bureau secretary. He folded the list, put it in a drawer, and changed the subject.

"How has the Eastern Palace been these past few days?"

"Consort Jing and the Fourth Princess have visited several times. Consort Xian also visited once, bringing the Fifth Prince. This morning, the Palace of Nurtured Elegance sent a maid with a basket of grapes." Kong Wu paused. "His Highness the Crown Prince did not eat them."

Xiao Lin tapped the armrest lightly with one finger. "Where did he put them?"

"Beside the ice basin. He said he wanted to wait and eat them with Your Majesty."

Xiao Lin was silent for a while. Then he stood.

"No more memorials today. I'm going to the Eastern Palace."

The sun had not yet set when Xiao Lin reached the Eastern Palace. Evening sunlight slanted in from the west, dyeing the parasol leaves in the courtyard gold and red. The first thing he saw as he stepped through the courtyard gate was a scene beneath the covered walkway-Xiao Huaijin and a little girl in a pale yellow tunic bent over the low table, writing with their heads together, a plate of grapes pushed into a corner beside them. Xiao Huaijin spotted him first, his eyes lighting up at once. Without stopping to put on his shoes, he ran toward him barefoot, doubled back halfway to put them on, then ran over again.

"Father!"

Xiao Lan stood, performed a proper bow, and called out a clear "Father." Xiao Lin glanced at her. She seemed a little taller than the last time he had seen her. "Has the Fourth Princess been visiting the Eastern Palace often lately?"

Xiao Lan lowered her head, her voice quieter than before. "Yes, Father. I come to teach His Highness the Crown Prince to draw. His Highness learns quickly."

The corners of Xiao Lin's mouth shifted. "My crown prince does learn quickly."

Xiao Lan said nothing. She was a little afraid of this cold father of hers, but she remembered her mother saying, "His Majesty is a good emperor," so she remained where she was rather than hiding, merely placing her hands behind her back. Xiao Lin said no more. He walked past her to the low table and looked down at the practice sheets spread across it-a row of "summer heat" characters, the first few crooked and lopsided, the last already taking shape. Beside them were a few characters for "orchid" and "flower," as well as a butterfly Xiao Lan had casually drawn.

"Who taught you this?"

"Sister Lan!"

Xiao Lin looked back at Xiao Lan.

"Well written."

Xiao Lan froze. Beside her, Xiao Huaijin added proudly, "When Father says it's well written, he means it's very good!" Taking his father's hand, he led him to the table, then brought the grapes over from beside the ice basin. "Have some grapes, Father. The Noble Consort sent them. I waited to eat them with you."

Xiao Lin looked at the plate of grapes. They were purple-skinned, with a thin layer of droplets clinging to their chilled surfaces. He picked one up and put it in his mouth. It was very sweet.

"Mm. Sweet."

Xiao Huaijin brightened, plucked a grape for himself, and stuffed it into his mouth. His cheeks bulged, and a little juice spilled from the corner of his mouth. He wiped it with his sleeve, then turned to invite Xiao Lan to join them. Xiao Lan looked at the grapes, then at Xiao Lin-remembering her mother's words, she hesitated. But Xiao Huaijin was already holding a grape out before her, and she could hardly refuse again. She accepted it, quietly thanked His Highness the Crown Prince, and cautiously took a bite.

Xiao Lin sat beside the low table and picked up Xiao Huaijin's writing from that day to look through it. When he reached the page with "summer heat," he paused.

"I couldn't write this character well as a child either."

Xiao Huaijin's eyes widened. "There were characters even you couldn't write well, Father?"

"Yes. Many." Xiao Lin put the sheet back on the table. "'Summer heat' has 'sun' above and 'person' below. The 'sun' should be broad, and the 'person' drawn in. Yours is too spread out, which makes it crooked. Write another."

Xiao Huaijin picked up his brush and wrote one as his father had instructed. It was still not quite straight, but with the "sun" broad and the "person" drawn in, the whole character was much more compact than before. Xiao Lin glanced at it and nodded.

"Passable."

Xiao Huaijin turned and winked at Xiao Lan-See? I told you.

Xiao Lan covered her mouth and laughed.

The evening sun slowly sank, and the nursemaid lit the lanterns beneath the covered walkway. Xiao Huaijin and Xiao Lan continued bending over the low table, writing and drawing, while Xiao Lin sat beside them and watched. The shadows of the parasol trees in the courtyard stretched longer and longer. The cicadas gradually fell quiet, and the breeze carried the scent of grass warmed by the day's sun.

When Consort Jing came to fetch Xiao Lan, she paused at the entrance. She saw His Majesty seated beneath the covered walkway, the two children gathered around him, chattering about something. He still held half an uneaten grape. She did not go inside, merely signaling to Xiao Lan with her eyes from the entrance. Xiao Lan slipped quietly out from beneath the walkway, a sheet of paper clutched in her hand.

"Mother, Father said my handwriting was good."

Consort Jing looked down at the paper in her daughter's hand-on it was the character for "summer heat," with a tiny circle marked beside it. She could not recognize who had marked it, but she guessed. Reaching out, she smoothed her daughter's wind-tousled hair at the temples and said nothing more.

After Xiao Lan left, the Eastern Palace became much quieter. Leaning against his father, Xiao Huaijin began to yawn.

"Father, will you come to the Eastern Palace every day from now on to watch me write?"

Xiao Lin did not agree at once. He remembered how, in his previous life, this child had waited eighteen years for him, while he had not once gone to the Eastern Palace of his own accord. Now this five-year-old lay beneath the covered walkway waiting for him every day. When he came, the boy was as happy as if it were New Year. When he did not, the boy made no fuss, but went on waiting the next day. Xiao Lin reached out and gently pressed the little crooked topknot on Xiao Huaijin's head.

"All right."

"And you have to look at Sister Lan's writing too."

"...All right."

Reassured, Xiao Huaijin tilted his head against his father's arm and soon fell asleep. Xiao Lin carried him inside, laid him on the couch, and covered him with a light quilt. He stood beside the couch for a while, looking at that soundly sleeping little face, then took from his sleeve the practice sheet he had acquired that day-the final right-falling stroke of "summer heat" trailed a little too far, but the character as a whole was already quite presentable. He folded the sheet, tucked it back into his sleeve, and left the Eastern Palace.

Late that night, Shen Mingzhu was still awake in the Palace of Nurtured Elegance. She sat at her dressing table, her face reflected in the bronze mirror before her. The maid who had delivered the grapes knelt behind her.

"Did the crown prince eat the grapes?"

"He did. His Majesty ate them too."

Shen Mingzhu picked up her comb and slowly drew it through the ends of her hair. "Eating grapes together." She smiled faintly at her reflection. "Faster than I expected."

She set down the comb and took a letter from the bottom drawer of her dressing case. There was no name on the envelope. She handed it to the maid.

"Send this out of the palace tomorrow. Tell my father-His Majesty has been in a good mood lately. Have him take this opportunity to submit a few more memorials and get everything that needs doing done."

The maid accepted the letter and withdrew. Shen Mingzhu sat before the mirror for a long time, then reached out to dim the wick, rose, and walked toward her bedchamber. Bright moonlight shone outside the window, falling in the direction of the Eastern Palace. She glanced at that palace wall, but it was too far away to see anything. Again she thought of the basket of grapes, how Xiao Huaijin had pushed it behind the ice basin and left it untouched all afternoon, only plucking one and putting it in his mouth after His Majesty arrived. That natural intimacy made her clench her back teeth for an instant.

At morning court the next day, Shen Boyong stepped out of the ranks and presented three matters. First, Hejian Prefecture had enjoyed a bumper summer grain harvest this year, and he requested that the court authorize the early collection of thirty percent of the autumn taxes to replenish the treasury. Second, Cui Shen, the Ministry of War's Left Vice Minister, had served diligently for many years, and he requested that Cui Shen be granted the additional title of Minister of War as a reward. Third, with the northern border army's rotation imminent, he requested that a general from Hejian be placed in command of the Capital Northern Camp. All three proposals wore a fine and dignified face, supported by ample reasons and delivered in a respectful tone. Xiao Lin listened from the dragon throne without rejecting them on the spot. He said only:

"Refer them to the Grand Secretariat."

His answer was ambiguous. As Shen Boyong returned to the ranks, he exchanged a glance with Minister of Revenue Sun Jingtang, who stood toward the rear-neither man showed any expression. After court, as Sun Jingtang walked along the passageway, Kong Wu caught up from behind and walked beside him for a few steps. Kong Wu said only one sentence: "The owner of the Hengtai Firm is not surnamed Cui." Sun Jingtang did not break stride, merely tightening his grip on the court tablet in his hand.

He had spent half his life as Minister of Revenue, guarding the court's purse. Now someone had poked a hole in that purse, and the man who had done it stood directly opposite him.

Looking toward the Hall of Mental Cultivation, Sun Jingtang said quietly, "The Shen Clan's appetite is too great." Kong Wu did not reply, merely accompanying him the entire length of the passageway.