Chapter 17
The marketplace of Shangjing unfurled before them like a tapestry of colors and sounds.
Yun-yao and Yun-si weaved through the crowds, their servants following at a respectful distance as they explored Brocade Street, the beating heart of the capital’s commerce.
The air was thick with the scent of steamed buns from roadside stalls, the sharp tang of ink from the calligraphy shops, and the faint, sweet perfume of osmanthus blossoms sold in woven baskets by children.
“We should go to Madam Li’s first,” Yun-yao said, steering her sister toward a large tailor’s shop with its gold-lacquered signboard swinging gently in the breeze. “General Wei mentioned I should learn riding, and I’ll need proper attire.”
Yun-si blinked. “Riding? But you’ve never—”
“I will learn.” said Yun-yao quietly.
The inside of Madam Li’s Tailoring House was a cocoon of colors and whispers.
Peach-blossom pink, deep sapphire, the green of new bamboo leaves—bolts of fabric in every imaginable shade were stacked neatly on shelves, while the latest styles were draped on wooden clothes stands.
The air danced with the scent of perfumes, woven through with excited conversations about fabrics and dresses.
Madam Li, a brisk woman in simple but impeccably cut clothes, stepped forward with a ready smile. “How may I assist the honorable young ladies today?” she asked, bowing.
“I require riding attire,” Yun-yao stated, keeping her voice steady despite the impropriety of the request. “Something practical yet befitting my station.”
If Madam Li was surprised, she concealed it masterfully. “Of course. I have several designs that might suit. This way, please.”
She led them to a private chamber where sketches hung on the walls and fabric samples lay neatly arranged on a table. Yun-yao examined each design with careful consideration, but her eyes kept returning to one particular sketch— a fitted tunic stitched with silver flowers over slim trousers.
Her heart quickened. It was unmistakable.
“This one,” Yun-si whispered. “It looks exactly like—”
“Sword Lady Mei’s outfit from Blossoms in the Snow,” Yun-yao finished in a hushed tone, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. “The one she wore when she dueled the Mountain Prince.”
Yun-si glanced at her sister in surprise, how did she know?
Madam Li appeared at her elbow, a knowing glimmer in her eyes. “Ah, the Sword Lady’s Garb,” she murmured. “This design has proven... quite popular recently.”
Yun-yao’s face burned. She should not want this. A proper young lady did not dress like a fictional swordswoman. A Great General’s wife certainly did not.
“I—I was just curious,” she stammered, forcing her gaze away. “I actually need riding attire. Something... practical.”
They spent the next hour selecting fabrics and discussing more appropriate styles. Yun-yao commissioned two sensible riding outfits in navy blue and forest green. All the while, Sword Lady Mei’s outfit called to her from the wall.
When they left the shop, the noon sun was high up, the market had swelled with merchants hawking their wares, children chasing after sugar figurines, and scholars arguing over poetry outside a teahouse.
They wandered through the market, sampling sugared hawthorn berries and admiring jade hairpins. As they approached the intersection where Brocade Street met Scholars' Lane, both sisters suddenly hesitated.
“I just remembered—” they began simultaneously, then stopped, looking at each other.
Yun-yao hesitated. “I—I just remembered. I need to... return to Madam Li’s. I forgot to ask about sleeve lengths.”
Yun-si blinked. “Oh! I—I also forgot something. The new ink stone I ordered. I should fetch it now.”
They stared at each other.
Then, in perfect unison:
“I’ll see you later for lunch.”
Silence.
Yun-si said hesitantly. “... shall we meet at The Fragrant Pavilion in one hour?”
“Perfect.” Yun-yao felt a twinge of guilt at her secrecy, but relief won out.
Yun-si nodded and left, already wearing the veiled hat that young ladies donned for modesty in public.
Yun-yao waited a heartbeat, then turned swiftly back towards the tailor’s shop, her heart pounding.
The bell above the door chimed as Yun-yao slipped back into Madam Li’s, leaving her maid outside, her cheeks still warm with shameful excitement.
“I’ll take it,” she said before the proprietor could even greet her. “The Sword Lady’s Garb. In white, not indigo. And...” she swallowed “...with the silver embroidery.”
Madam Li’s smile was knowing. “Excellent choice, Lady. May I suggest a matching ribbon for your hair? Sword Lady Mei always wore...”
“Silver with blue tassels,” Yun-yao bit her lip, the struggle lasting all of two heartbeats before she succumbed. “Yes, thank you.”
Meanwhile, Yun-si had slipped down a side alley to Scholar’s Lane, where bookshops and paper merchants catered to the capital’s literati. Unlike the bustling main streets, this area was quieter, frequented by students and scholars.
She approached a modest establishment with a faded sign reading “Autumn Leaf Literary Treasures.” With practiced ease, she adjusted her veiled hat to conceal her features more thoroughly and entered, her maid waiting dutifully outside.
The proprietor, Old Wang, looked up from his ledger and nodded almost imperceptibly. No greetings were exchanged as Yun-si moved to the back corner of the shop and removed a wrapped package from her sleeve.
“The new manuscript from Recluse in Clouds,” she whispered, sliding it across the counter.
Old Wang’s weathered hands accepted the package reverently. “My customers have been clamoring for it. The Warrior’s Heart will sell out within days.”
“Just remember our arrangement,” Yun-si cautioned. “No one can know—”
“Your secret remains safe with me, young mistress,” Old Wang assured her. “As it has these two years.”
After receiving her payment—discreetly tucked into a book of poetry—Yun-si departed, her heart lighter. Few things brought her greater joy than knowing her stories would soon find their audience.
No sooner had Yun-si turned the corner than Yun-yao appeared, entering the same bookshop with furtive glances over her shoulder.
“Mistress,” Old Wang greeted her, recognizing another of his loyal customers. “Your usual selection?”
“Have you anything new?” she asked, moving to the section where the huabens were discreetly displayed. “Particularly from Recluse in Clouds?”
Old Wang’s eyes twinkled. “As fate would have it, I've just received a manuscript for The Warrior’s Heart. It will be ready for sale next week.”
Yun-yao’s face lit up. “Truly? That’s wonderful news!”
“In fact,” Old Wang continued, unable to resist, “had you arrived moments earlier, you might have glimpsed the author.”
“The author was here?” Yun-yao’s eyes widened, her voice rising in unexpected excitement. “Recluse in Clouds was actually here?”
“A shadowy figure, veiled and mysterious,” Old Wang confirmed, enjoying the moment. “As elusive as morning mist.”
Yun-yao sighed with genuine disappointment. “To think I missed such an opportunity! I have so many questions about The General’s Secret Bride!'“
“Perhaps another time,” Old Wang consoled her. “Meanwhile, I've set aside that collection of supernatural and fantastical stories you inquired about last month.”
Yun-yao purchased three volumes, which Old Wang wrapped in plain paper and labeled as “Treatises on Household Management.” Her literary indulgences thus disguised, she bid the shopkeeper farewell and hurried to meet her sister.
The Fragrant Pavilion teahouse overlooked the canal, its second floor offering privacy and a gentle breeze. Yun-si was already seated by a latticed window when Yun-yao arrived, both sisters slightly flushed from their secret errands.
“Did you accomplish your task?” Yun-si asked as Yun-yao settled across from her.
“Perfectly,” Yun-yao replied, nudging her packages under the table. “And you?”
“All went smoothly.” Yun-si smiled, pouring fragrant jasmine tea.
The sisters shared a little smile, their secrets safe behind it.