Winter solstice

This was the day when dawn came latest. The charcoal braziers in the Hall of Mental Cultivation had been burning since the fourth watch. Liu An had replenished the charcoal twice and filled three hand warmers-one placed at the corner of the imperial desk, one tucked into Xiao Huaijin's bedding in the side chamber, and one he kept on himself. The north wind rushed through the crack in the door, making the gauze lantern on the imperial desk sway several times. Xiao Lin reached out to straighten its shade, then continued reviewing memorials. Court had adjourned, but he had yet to change out of his court robes. His ceremonial crown rested at the corner of the desk, its twelve strands of white jade beads gleaming softly beneath the gauze lantern.

When Xiao Huaijin ran out of the side chamber, he was carrying a bowl in both hands.

"Father!" He set the bowl on the imperial desk. Its base struck the surface with a dull thud, and a few drops of broth splashed onto the memorial beside it. He hurriedly wiped at them with his sleeve, but after two swipes, Xiao Lin caught his wrist.

"Careful. It's hot."

Xiao Lin drew him aside and looked down at the bowl-it held dumplings, a size larger than those from the Imperial Kitchen. Their wrappers had been rolled unevenly, and several had burst during cooking, their filling squeezing through the splits. Xiao Huaijin tipped his face up, his eyes astonishingly bright.

"I made them. Nanny taught me before-on the winter solstice, you have to eat dumplings, or your ears will freeze."

Xiao Lin looked at the bowl of broken dumplings. The wet nurse had been gone for nearly two months, but this child had kept her craft alive. He picked up his chopsticks, took a dumpling with a split wrapper, and put it in his mouth. The filling was lamb and carrot, and it tasted quite good. Xiao Huaijin leaned against the desk, watching him eagerly, and waited until he swallowed before asking, "Is it good?"

"A little salty."

Xiao Huaijin's face fell a fraction.

"But better than the Imperial Kitchen's." Xiao Lin picked up another.

Xiao Huaijin's face lit up again. He ran back to the side chamber and brought out another bowl, which held only three dumplings. Sitting on the cushioned couch, he ate in small bites, then suddenly stopped halfway through his second dumpling. "Father, why do we offer sacrifices to Heaven on the winter solstice?"

"To revere Heaven and follow our ancestors' example. The Son of Heaven tends the people on Heaven's behalf. The winter solstice marks the first return of yang, so we must give thanks to Heaven on this day."

"Then can Heaven hear us when we offer sacrifices?"

Xiao Lin paused, set down his chopsticks, and looked at the gray-white sky outside the window.

"No. But a ruler must pretend it can. Reverence is not a display for Heaven, but for everyone beneath it."

Xiao Huaijin chewed those words over, then picked up the last dumpling and stuffed it into his mouth, mumbling that he would offer sacrifices in the future too. Xiao Lin said nothing, only pushed the hand warmer at the corner of the desk toward him.

After lunch, winter solstice gifts from the various palaces began arriving. Consort Jing sent a plate of vegetable dumplings and a small jar of homemade osmanthus wine. Consort Xian sent a large platter of sweet dumplings filled with red bean paste and newly made padded socks for Xiao Huaijin. On the back of his mother's gift list, Xiao Yue had drawn a crooked "Yue" with a charcoal pencil, presumably as a signature. Concubine Li sent a hand-knitted scarf, its stitches so fine that hardly a loose end could be seen. She had used navy-blue yarn-just right with an apricot-yellow robe. Consort De sent something too: a hand-copied scripture with yellowed pages and a small seal stamped on its title page.

Xiao Huaijin arranged the gifts one by one on the cushioned couch, then sat down to write replies. Afterward, he stacked all the replies neatly and handed them to Liu An, asking him to deliver them to each palace.

Xiao Yu came that afternoon. When he entered, he was holding a rabbit-fur muff, a fluffy white bundle larger than his own face. Shen Mingzhu had made it from fur brushed from Xiao Yu's gray rabbit-collected over the entire autumn, with the softest batch selected. Xiao Yu thrust the muff into Xiao Huaijin's hands.

"Mother said to put it over your hand when you write. It's warm."

Xiao Huaijin turned the muff over twice to examine it, then tried slipping his right hand inside. The rabbit fur was light and soft; wearing it felt like cradling a cloud. He looked up and asked, "Your mother is so good with her hands. Gloves last time, a muff this time-can your mother make everything?"

Xiao Yu thought about it, then solemnly nodded and shook his head.

"Mother can make lots of things, but she doesn't often make them."

Xiao Huaijin took off the muff and placed it at the corner of the desk, beside the copper hand warmer he had filled himself.

The winter solstice evening banquet was held in the Hall of Supreme Harmony. By established custom, it was a grand banquet for the sovereign and his ministers, attended by princes, imperial clansmen, and officials of the third rank and above. Imperial consorts and young princes and princesses were not included. But this year, Xiao Lin issued an additional verbal decree-all women of the harem ranked concubine or above, along with the princes and princesses of every palace, were to attend, so long as they could walk.

More than thirty tables had been set out in the Hall of Supreme Harmony. Imperial clansmen and high ministers sat inside, while lower-ranking officials sat beneath the corridor outside. Two separate tables had been arranged on the eastern side. Consort Jing, Consort Xian, Consort De, and Concubine Li sat at one; Xiao Lan, Xiao Rui, Xiao Yu, and Xiao Yue at the other. Xiao Yue wore a newly made little purple padded robe that day, its fur-trimmed collar making his round face look rounder still. His short legs swung above the floor as he sat in his chair. When he saw Xiao Huaijin enter through the hall doors, he jumped straight down and ran over.

"Crown Prince Brother!"

Xiao Huaijin caught him and nudged him back two steps.

"Father said no running around today. Sit properly."

Xiao Yue was pressed back into his chair, unwillingly, but craned his head toward the doors again to see when Father would arrive. Beside him, Xiao Lan peeled a candied jujube and popped it into his mouth. After a couple of chews, he forgot all about running around.

When Xiao Lin entered, everyone in the hall rose and saluted. After taking his seat, he glanced at the two tables on the eastern side-the children were all sitting properly. He withdrew his gaze, raised his wine cup, and said, "Let the banquet begin."

A small incident occurred halfway through the banquet. While Consort Xian was not looking, Xiao Yue slid off his chair and ran toward the imperial seat, clutching his little wooden bowl. The ministers throughout the hall were taking turns offering toasts. A plump three-year-old bundle, he squeezed through gaps in the crowd and tugged at the hem of Xiao Lin's dragon robe.

"Father!" He raised his little wooden bowl over his head. "Eat dumplings! Or your ears will freeze!"

The hall suddenly fell silent. The cups in several elderly ministers' hands stopped in midair, and the Minister of Rites went pale-by the rules of propriety, a young prince rushing before the emperor on such an occasion was a breach of etiquette. He was about to rise and beg forgiveness when Xiao Lin bent down, picked Xiao Yue up, and settled him on his lap.

"Who gave you the dumplings?"

"Mother!" Xiao Yue pushed the dumpling in his hand toward Xiao Lin's mouth. He had already squeezed it out of shape, and filling had oozed through the wrapper and stuck to his chubby fingers. Xiao Lin opened his mouth to accept it, chewed twice, and swallowed.

"Mm. Not bad."

Consort Xian lowered her head in her seat, her shoulders trembling slightly-it was impossible to tell whether she was laughing or crying.

Her son could finally speak with His Majesty...

After the banquet ended, everyone from the various palaces left. Xiao Huaijin followed Xiao Lin back to the Hall of Mental Cultivation, changed into his nightclothes, and sat on the cushioned couch. Suddenly, he spoke.

"Father, I was very happy today."

Xiao Lin was undoing the fastenings of his court robes. His hands paused. "What made you happy?"

"I always spent the winter solstice alone before. There were lots of people this year."

Xiao Huaijin placed the rabbit-fur muff beside his pillow, filled the hand warmer with hot water, and tucked it into his bedding. Then he lay down and closed his eyes, only to open them again a little later. "Father, can we spend next winter solstice like this too?"

Xiao Lin hung his outer robe on the stand, walked over to the couch, and sat down. "Yes."

"And the year after?"

"Yes."

"And the year after that?"

"Every year."

Xiao Huaijin was satisfied. He pulled his quilt a little higher, rolled over, and curled into a ball. The rabbit-fur muff rested beside his pillow, white and fluffy, looking like a snow rabbit lying in the shadows. Xiao Lin did not leave at once. He sat beside the couch, looking at this child who took "every year" as a promise. In their previous life, this person had waited for him his whole life-waiting for him to look back, for a word of praise, for a chance to be believed. In the end, none of it had come. In this life, he would not make him wait for anything.

He stood and moved the charcoal brazier half a foot closer to the couch, tucked in the quilt, then turned and sat down at the imperial desk. Outside the window, the moon shone bright. The winter solstice night was the longest of the year, and the light in the Hall of Mental Cultivation glowed like a kindled star amid the boundless cold.