Autumn Wind

Only a few days had passed since the Double Seventh Festival, and the lanterns beneath the Eastern Palace's covered walkway had yet to be taken down. The nursemaid stood on a stool, removing them one by one. Xiao Huaijin stood below, head tilted back, directing her.

"Take down the one on the left first-not that one, the one with the rabbit painted on it!"

His instructions left the nursemaid so dizzy that she simply took down all the lanterns and piled them beneath the walkway for him to choose himself.

"Your Highness, we can't keep these lanterns."

"Then keep the rabbit one."

"There aren't any rabbits. They're all lotus lanterns."

"There is a rabbit! The one Sister Lan painted is a rabbit!"

The nursemaid searched through them and actually found one with a rabbit painted on it-Xiao Lan was deft with her hands and had painted two upright ears on the gauze lantern, just enough to make out a rabbit. Xiao Huaijin hugged the rabbit lantern and refused to let go, so the nursemaid had no choice but to hang it outside his bedchamber, saying it could stay for only three more days. Xiao Huaijin held up five fingers. The nursemaid said three days. He curled down one finger. The nursemaid compromised.

"Four days it is, then."

During those four days, Xiao Huaijin went to check every morning and evening that the rabbit lantern was still there. When Xiao Lan visited the Eastern Palace and saw it, she asked him with a smile, "Do you like rabbits that much?"

"It's because you painted it so well, Sister Lan."

A little embarrassed by the praise, Xiao Lan took a charcoal pencil from her sleeve and drew an even fatter rabbit on the other side of the lantern. The two rabbits faced each other, with a carrot added between them. Xiao Huaijin was delighted. That evening, he insisted that the nursemaid move the lantern to his bedside, saying he wanted to watch the rabbits as he fell asleep.

By the middle of the seventh month, the weather in the capital began to cool. Winds rose in the mornings and evenings, and the edges of the parasol tree leaves took on their first ring of yellow. The nursemaid brought out the lightly padded jacket she had put away last year and dressed Xiao Huaijin in it. The sleeves were half an inch too short, so she stayed up late to add a section. Xiao Huaijin held out his arms for her to measure, then suddenly asked, "Nanny, when will winter come?"

"Not for a while yet. It's only the seventh month."

"When winter comes, will Father stop coming?"

The needle in the nursemaid's hand paused. Last winter, His Majesty had indeed seldom visited the Eastern Palace. She knotted the thread and bit it off, making her voice very soft.

"No. His Majesty will come to see you this winter too."

"Really?"

"Really."

Xiao Huaijin looked down at his newly lengthened sleeves and asked no more. He climbed over to the low table and began his writing for the day. The work Zhou Rucheng had assigned him that day was, "The autumn wind sighed, the weather grew cold; plants and trees shook loose their leaves, and dew became frost." He wrote two lines, stopped his brush, and tilted his head to study them for a while before asking, "Grand Tutor, is this 'Xiao' the same character as Father's surname?"

Zhou Rucheng nodded.

"Yes."

Xiao Huaijin wrote an especially large "Xiao" and drew a little figure beside it, with a crown on its head.

Zhou Rucheng looked at the little figure without speaking. He remembered that many years ago, a child in the Cold Palace had also drawn little figures on the wall. They depicted the late emperor, holding a sword. Later, that child grew up and never drew little figures again.

On the twentieth day of the seventh month, Consort Xian brought Xiao Yue over again.

Xiao Yue was much steadier on his feet now. Though he still fell, he no longer cried when he did, but climbed up and kept running. The moment he entered the Eastern Palace, he ran straight toward the stone table, knowing the way well-he had eaten a piece of osmanthus cake there last time and remembered it. The nursemaid hurried to bring out a plate of pastries. Xiao Yue stood on tiptoe but could not reach the stone table, and circled it in his impatience. Xiao Huaijin came down from the walkway and lifted him so he could reach the cakes. Both children leaned over the table, scattering crumbs all over the ground.

Consort Xian sat beside them and chatted with the nursemaid. As they spoke, she suddenly lowered her voice.

"I heard something happened over at the Noble Consort's recently."

The nursemaid glanced at her without answering. Consort Xian continued on her own. "The Palace of Nurtured Elegance summoned an imperial physician the day before yesterday. They said the Second Prince had nightmares and ran a fever for several days. The Noble Consort stayed by him for several nights without closing her eyes."

"Is he any better?"

"The fever has broken, but he's listless and won't even get out of bed." Consort Xian paused. "The Noble Consort has all her thoughts on the Second Prince now. She scarcely leaves the Palace of Nurtured Elegance."

In the courtyard, Xiao Yue was hugging Xiao Huaijin around the waist, rubbing his face against his robe. It tickled Xiao Huaijin, who laughed and tried to push him away, but could not, so he had to drag him along for a couple of steps. Xiao Yue giggled without letting go.

"You're much clingier than your second brother." Xiao Huaijin looked down at Xiao Yue.

Xiao Yue did not understand and called "Big Brother" again in a soft, sweet voice.

One day at the end of the seventh month, Xiao Yue turned three. Consort Xian held a small family banquet in her palace, inviting Consort Jing and her daughter, as well as Xiao Huaijin. Dressed in a newly made little purple robe, Xiao Yue wriggled in the birthday seat. Consort Xian tried several times to hold him still, without success.

Xiao Huaijin gave Xiao Yue a small wooden sword-Kong Wu had made it for him, and he had spent several days sanding the splinters from its hilt. Xiao Yue was so delighted when he received it that he immediately began waving it around, nearly knocking over a teacup on the table. Consort Xian snatched it away.

"Cake! Eat your cake first! Do you want cake or the sword?"

Xiao Yue pouted and hesitated for a while.

"Both!" With the sword in his left hand and cake in his right, Xiao Yue set to work on both fronts.

During the meal, Consort Xian whispered to Consort Jing, "The wooden sword the Crown Prince gave him was sanded so carefully. There isn't a single splinter. He's only five, yet he already knows to smooth a sword hilt for his little brother."

Consort Jing watched Xiao Huaijin wiping Xiao Yue's mouth.

"He truly cherishes this little brother."

After finishing his cake, Xiao Yue ran back to Xiao Huaijin and clung to his arm.

"Big Brother, shoot arrows!"

"It's dark. We'll shoot tomorrow."

"No! Now!" Xiao Yue hung his entire weight from his arm, both short legs off the ground, like a little monkey clinging to a tree trunk.

Worn down by his pestering, Xiao Huaijin had no choice but to take him into the courtyard and draw an empty bow twice in the moonlight. He nocked no arrows, merely letting him hear the bowstring sound. At the string's hum, Xiao Yue's eyes lit up.

"Again, Big Brother!"

Xiao Huaijin drew it once more.

That night, Xiao Yue was still murmuring "Big Brother drawing the bow" when he went to bed. Consort Xian sat beside him and patted him for a long while before he fell asleep. Looking at her son's sleeping little face, she recalled how Xiao Huaijin had held Xiao Yue's hand that evening, teaching him to grip the bow-his hand was only a little larger than Xiao Yue's, yet it was already very steady. She murmured, "His Highness the Crown Prince really is a good child," then tucked the quilt around her son, rose, and went to close the window.

That same night, the Palace of Nurtured Elegance presented a different scene.

Xiao Yu's fever had broken, and his head was somewhat clearer, but he had grown thinner. His little face had become pointed, and even his dimples were shallower. He leaned against the head of the bed, unwilling to sleep. Shen Mingzhu sat beside him, holding a bowl of medicine and feeding it to him. After two sips, he turned his face away.

"Bitter."

Shen Mingzhu set down the medicine bowl and wiped the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief.

"Mother, it was so lively outside today."

"It's your fifth brother's birthday."

Xiao Yu fell silent for a while, then asked, "Why didn't he invite me?"

Shen Mingzhu's hand paused. She folded the handkerchief and placed it by the bed, her tone calm.

"You're still ill. You can't go out in the wind."

Xiao Yu asked no more, but turned his head away and stared at the wall for a long time. Shen Mingzhu watched her son's thin back, her face expressionless. She had stayed awake for several nights, leaving faint blue shadows beneath her eyes, but her back remained perfectly straight, as poised as ever.

She knew Consort Xian had not invited her. Shen Mingzhu rose from the bedside and walked to the window. Outside, bright moonlight fell over the palaces to the east. The lights in the Eastern Palace had already gone out, as had those in Consort Xian's palace. The entire harem was quiet; only the lamps in the Palace of Nurtured Elegance still burned. She stood there for a long time, so long that only when Xiao Yu called "Mother" behind her did she turn around.

"Mother is here."

Xiao Yu looked at her, his eyes holding a quietness that did not belong to his age.

"Mother, can I go play with Crown Prince Brother tomorrow?"

Shen Mingzhu did not answer immediately. Then she walked over, sat beside the bed, and reached out to feel her son's forehead.

"When you're better."

"Then can I go when I'm better?"

"...Yes."

Xiao Yu closed his eyes and soon fell asleep. Shen Mingzhu sat beside the bed watching him, taking his hand from beneath the quilt and holding it in her palm. It was such a small hand, the fingernails rounded like seashells. She wondered whether, if this child grew up to be as strong-minded as his father, she would still be able to make decisions for him. If one day he had to choose between his mother and his conscience, whom would he choose?

She did not follow the thought further. She put Xiao Yu's hand back beneath the quilt, rose, and walked to the dressing table. Taking the letter she had yet to send from a drawer, she held it over the lamp and burned it. Tomorrow, she would write a new one.

On the first day of the eighth month, Zhou Rucheng came to the imperial study to hand in the Crown Prince's work.

He placed a stack of handwriting practice sheets on Xiao Lin's desk. Among them was an especially large "Xiao," with a little crowned figure drawn beside it. Xiao Lin picked up that sheet and studied it for a moment.

"Who is this little figure?"

Zhou Rucheng lowered his eyes.

"He is whoever Your Highness says he resembles."

Xiao Lin drew that sheet out separately, placed it in the very center of the imperial desk, and secured it with a paperweight.

"Has the Crown Prince mentioned anyone else these past few days?"

"Yesterday, His Highness spent the entire afternoon drawing butterflies with the Fourth Princess. The day before, he taught the Fifth Prince to draw a bow until dark. The day before that, he asked me whether the Second Prince had recovered. He wanted to visit him."

Xiao Lin raised his eyes from the paper.

"He wants to visit Xiao Yu."

"Yes. His Highness said the Second Prince is his little brother."

Xiao Lin was silent for a while. In his previous life, Xiao Yu had raised a private army at fourteen and stormed the palace at sixteen. Xiao Yu's sword had been stained with Xiao Huaijin's blood, and his last words as he knelt below the steps had been a plea for his father to spare his life. He had not mentioned his Crown Prince brother even once. Yet his Crown Prince had told Zhou Rucheng-the Second Prince is my little brother.

He put the sheet bearing "Xiao" back at the corner of the desk and did not pursue the subject.

"Have the Crown Prince come to the Hall of Mental Cultivation tomorrow. I will test his writing."

Zhou Rucheng assented. As he withdrew, he paused at the hall doors. An early autumn breeze blew past, carrying the fragrance of osmanthus from Taiye Lake. He thought the osmanthus seemed to have bloomed earlier this year than in years past.