The twenty-sixth day of the second month, the first year of Zhengde.
The decree hadn't been issued yet. Zhu Houzhao said "wait for the gossip to die down," but gossip never dies down on its own.
The news leaked from Liu Jin's mouth. He ran to the Ministry of Rites to ask for something, was asked a few extra questions, mumbled and couldn't explain clearly, came back and got scolded by Zhu Houzhao. But it was already too late. The whole capital was gossiping—the new Emperor was going to marry a palace maid.
I walked in the palace, feeling like everyone was looking at me.
On the long corridor, two young palace maids squatted in the corner arranging flower branches, seeing me walk over, their voices lowered, but still drifted into my ears. "Heard the palace maid the Emperor wants to marry doesn't even have a rank..." The other added: "Exactly, heard she's a medical maid, the kind who can't even enter the Imperial Hospital." My steps paused for a moment. Palms full of sweat.
I looked down at my clothes—the blue-green medical maid daily uniform, a small plum blossom embroidered on the collar. This outfit was just an ordinary work uniform yesterday, today it was like a label, stuck on my body, making everyone recognize who I was at a glance.
I took a deep breath, lifted my head, chest out, continued walking forward. Let them look, let them gossip.
People in the Imperial Pharmacy looked at me, people in the Imperial Hospital looked at me, even the sweeping eunuchs stole glances. Some looks were curious, some disdainful, some—I couldn't describe, but they made my back prickle.
Zhu Houzhao didn't care at all.
In the morning when I went to the Qianqing Palace to deliver medicine, he was lying on the imperial desk drawing something. A set of writing materials was on the desk—Duan inkstone, Huzhou brush, Hui ink, Xuan paper. His vermilion brush rested on the inkstone, ink not yet dry. The dragon chair's armrests were carved with five-clawed golden dragons, lifelike, glowing with a dull light in the candlelight. Seeing me enter, he flipped the paper over.
"What are you drawing?" I asked.
"Not telling you." He pulled a dried lychee from his sleeve, threw it into his mouth, chewed.
"You eat this every day, aren't you tired of it?"
"Not tired. Sweet." He patted the chair beside him, "Sit. I'll show you something."
I didn't sit. He stood up, walked to me, stuffed that crumpled paper into my hand.
"Open it."
I unfolded it. On the paper was a cat—round head, triangular ears, whiskers crooked, like a hairy mouse.
"Isn't this the one you drew before?" I said.
"Mm. I drew it again." He pointed to the side, "Look at this."
In the corner of the paper, another cat was drawn. Furry, eyes bright, squatting in the corner, tail curled up. Beside it was a rabbit, one ear long one short, chubby.
"You drew it?" I asked.
"Mm. Last time you said I drew ugly, I drew it again."
He looked at me, the corner of his mouth lifting.
"Pretty?"
"Pretty."
"Prettier than yours?"
"Prettier than mine."
He smiled, folded the paper and stuffed it into his sleeve. "Keeping it."
In the afternoon, Liu Jin came to deliver a message, saying His Majesty wanted me in the Qianqing Palace. When I pushed the door open, Zhu Houzhao was standing in front of the imperial desk, a row of things on the table.
"Come here," he said.
I walked over. On the table were: a jade pendant, a pair of gold bracelets, a bolt of red silk, a dagger, a scroll of painting, and three dried lychees.
"What are these?"
"Betrothal gifts." He pointed to the jade pendant, "You've seen this. Left to me by my father, carved with 'Changle'. I hope you are forever happy." He pointed to the gold bracelets, "These are from my mother. She said, the dowry will be made up later. Gold bracelets represent wealth, hope you have a worry-free life." He pointed to the red silk, "This is tribute from Jiangnan, said to be good material, you take it to make clothes." He pointed to the dagger, "This is what I used when I was little. Cuts iron like mud. For your protection."
He picked up the scroll, unfolded it. It was that "hairy mouse"—he had redrawn it. Beside it, a cat was added, squatting in the corner, tail curled up.
"This is what I drew," he said. "Supplementary betrothal gift."
He picked up the three dried lychees, placed them in front.
"These are tribute from Lingnan. Lychees symbolize sweetness and preciousness in ancient times." He looked at me, the corner of his mouth lifting, "I hope your life is as sweet as lychees. This is the first batch."
I looked down at that row of things on the table. Jade pendant, gold bracelets, red silk, dagger, painting, dried lychees. Messy, all kinds of things.
"Why do you put everything on the table?" I asked.
"They're all mine," he said. "Mine is yours."
He looked at me, eyes very bright.
"One more thing missing."
"What?"
He didn't answer, pulled out that "Kill" card from his sleeve. My card. The one I always kept in my sleeve. Don't know when he took it.
"You—" I reached to grab it, he held it up high.
"This, I'm keeping too."
"Give it back!"
"Not giving back." He smiled, folded that card and stuffed it into his sleeve, "You keep this, want to kill me. I keep it, to guard against you."
"When did I want to kill you?"
"When playing games."
"That was a game!"
"Games don't count either." He looked at me, smile gone, "I'm not giving it back."
I looked at him. His eyes were very bright, mouth corner lifted, but there was something in his eyes—not a joke, serious.
"Why are you keeping it?" I asked.
"To remind myself," he said. "You have a knife in your hand, but never unsheathed it."
He looked down at me, eyes suddenly softening. "Lizi, will you always be with me?"
I was stunned. "I will."
"No matter what happens, you won't leave me?"
"I won't."
He smiled. Not that light smile with just a mouth corner twitch, but a real smile, tiger teeth showing.
"Then I'm not afraid of anything."
He didn't wait for my answer, turned and walked back to the dragon chair, sat down, picked up the brush. A stack of memorials was piled on the imperial desk, the top one had been crumpled, then unfolded. On the cover was written "Ministry of Rites尚书 Liu Jian respectfully submits." The ink was blurred from crumpling, but a few characters were still visible—"palace maid," "against ancestral system," "please Your Majesty reconsider."
His brush tip paused on that memorial, for a moment. Then he picked it up, threw it into the fire basin. Flames leaped up, instantly devouring that paper. The paper curled up, turned into a small piece of ash, fell to the ground.
"Go," he said. "I still have memorials to approve."
I stood in place, looking at that pile of "betrothal gifts" on the table. Jade pendant, gold bracelets, red silk, dagger, painting, dried lychees.
I put them one by one into my sleeve. The dagger was a bit long, couldn't fit. He saw, rummaged a cloth bag from the drawer and threw it over.
"Use this to pack it."
I caught the cloth bag, put the dagger inside. The bag was blue, embroidered with a plum blossom—same as the one on the female official's uniform collar.
"When did you embroider this?"
"Didn't embroider. Had the Imperial Wardrobe embroider it."
"When did you have the Imperial Wardrobe embroider it?"
"Last night." He didn't look up, "I said, betrothal gifts need to be prepared."
I clenched that cloth bag, standing before the imperial desk. He was looking down approving memorials, brush tip making rustling sounds. The dragon robe's sleeve was rolled up a bit, revealing a shallow scar.
"Your Majesty."
"Mm."
"Thank you."
He looked up, at me. Candlelight shone on his face, his eyes very bright.
"No need to thank. Just keep it safe."
He looked down, continued approving memorials.
I turned to walk out. When I reached the door, he called me.
"Lizi."
"Here."
"Tomorrow morning court, I'm issuing the decree."
I was stunned. "Didn't you say wait for gossip to die down?"
"Can't wait anymore." He put down the brush, leaned back in the chair, "The Ministry of Rites has already started submitting memorials. Saying I shouldn't favor a palace maid, saying I broke the rules."
"Then you—"
"I said, I don't care." He looked at me, mouth corner lifting, "Tomorrow, you stand in the Imperial Hospital row. Don't hide."
"I'm not hiding."
"Then that's best."
He looked down, continued approving memorials. Brush tip rustling.
I walked out of the Qianqing Palace. Moonlight spilled on the ground, like a layer of silver frost. Lanterns under the corridor were still bright, orange halos swaying in the night, like beating hearts.
I looked up at the sky, stars twinkling, as if cheering for me.
I reached into my sleeve, felt that jade pendant. Changle. Felt those three dried lychees. One next to another. Felt that painting, paper soft, corners already curled.
I clenched the jade pendant in my hand, silently chanting: Changle, Changle. I will make myself happy, and make the Emperor happy. No matter how difficult the road ahead, I will not retreat.
Tomorrow, he will issue the decree in court. Tomorrow, everything will change.
I looked up in the direction of the Qianqing Palace, took a deep breath.
Your Majesty, I am ready.
(End of Chapter 34)