The Brocade Prince | A. Y. Chao #4
Brother Shuang didn’t sound annoyed, as Feifei might have been in his shoes. Neither did he demand her honesty. Rather, he seemed amused. This, more than anything, lowered Feifei’s guard.
“Fate has indeed brought us together,” she said. “I’m also looking for that testimony. My mother and the Vice Chancellor’s daughter were sworn sisters. I promised to clear his name.” That was enough information until the stranger earned her trust. “I will check the painting at home—”
“Come on, I’m dying to know if that’s the right painting. Don’t torture your brother.”
Feifei crossed her arms, continuing primly, “Tomorrow night at third geng, we’ll meet here. Bring your list and I’ll tell you which ones I’ve already checked. Maybe we can cut down on some work.”
“You’re such a brat,” he said, playfully punching her shoulder.
She turned away, but he wouldn’t let up, play-wrestling her as if they were children. Growing annoyed, she finally tried to buck him off. But it only threw him off-balance and he ended up falling onto her, landing with one hand square on each breast.
Brother Shuang glanced at his hands and frowned. Panicking, she shoved him full force, flinging him onto the roof.
She thought he gave her an odd look, but when he hopped down to the weed-filled courtyard, he raised his hands once more in zuoyi. She must have imagined it; relieved her qi buffer still held.
“I’m sorry for teasing you,” he said. “I know you don’t trust me yet, Brother Jin. It’s right for you to be cautious. But I want you to know, I’m a man of my word. I swear on my life as your brother and as Master Sun’s disciple, I will not fail you. Tomorrow at third geng.”
They parted. She had not made it a quarter of the way home when the fifth watch drum sounded, startling her.
How had so much time passed? Feifei had planned to double back on herself to make sure she wasn’t followed, but she was out of time.
The darkness she depended on was fast lifting; not just that but the household would be waking.
She raced home, flying across roof ridge after roof ridge, doing her best to stay low.
Her heart pounded as she leapt over the wall into the west courtyard, hurrying along the back of the Pavilion of the Reflected Moon and ducking behind a tree to avoid Hsiao Niang’s servants.
When the way was clear, she leapt to her balcony and disappeared into the safety of her room.
* * *
Feifei lay in bed, muscles aching, blankets pulled up to her chin, staring at the ceiling.
By and by the shadows paled, but sleep eluded her.
She’d forgotten how exhilarating it was to spar with someone whose skill matched hers, and though Brother Shuang had done most of the speaking, their conversation afterwards left a warm, fluttery feeling deep in her belly.
Excited, nervous, happy. It had been a long time since Feifei had felt this way. Not since her days pilgrimaging to the mountain temple where Hsiao Niang would light incense and meditate to honour her mother’s spirit.
That first trip had changed her life.
To keep Feifei safe from bandits, Hsiao Niang dressed her as a servant boy. Once they’d arrived at the temple, she instructed Feifei not to disturb her meditation.
It wasn’t long before Feifei got hungry and bored and wanted to ask for food.
But nothing she did could rouse Hsiao Niang from her meditative state.
She whispered, blew in her ear, even dared to tug on her sleeve.
Defeated, she sat in a corner feeling sorry for herself until she smelled some thing delicious.
Feifei followed her nose to the other side of the temple where there was another large building. She peeked around the door. In the courtyard, a dozen boys sat at tables eating lunch. Master Sun saw her and asked if she wanted to join them. Eagerly she nodded.
Fall leaves crunched under her shoes as she crossed the courtyard holding a bowl filled with steamed rice and braised beef.
She felt shy and a little scared because she was, after all, a girl in disguise.
What if they found out? Would she get a beating?
Fear gripped her and she became teary. As she was about to run back to Hsiao Niang, a chair scraped against the floor.
A clear voice said, “F-F-Friend, s-s-it here.”
A chubby boy pointed at the seat he’d just vacated. He had a round face, rosy cheeks, and a grin like a bright moonbeam, a grin that banished shadows, a grin that made her feel warm and safe. Fan Tong. Smiling, she finally drifted off to sleep.
* * *
“Why are you still in bed? The Lius are on their way to agree a new wedding date. We’ve already rescheduled twice. We cannot put it off again, or they may lose patience and cancel the engagement.”
Feifei pushed herself up, squinted open one bleary eye. Hsiao Niang stood in the middle of her room, hands folded at her waist. A picture of womanly virtue.
“But Hsiao Niang,” Feifei said. “What if this is the will of Tian?”
“Don’t be silly. The eight character chart of your birth dates confirm this to be a highly auspicious match.
Our families are in agreement. The bride price has already been given.
” Hsiao Niang bowed her head, and added, “This match was the wish of your honourable late mother, and she was wise in all things.”
Feifei’s mouth twisted; her mother was indeed wise in all things, but her mother hadn’t known the groom’s heart lay elsewhere.
If she had, Feifei was certain she would never have proposed the match.
Her mother had also told Feifei never to openly go against Hsiao Niang, warning that doing so would only end in misery: Feifei’s.
Falling back onto her tried and tested method of getting around Hsiao Niang’s plans, Feifei gripped her chest and started to wheeze.
“Are you alright, Fei-er?” Hsiao Niang rushed to her side, tone and expression full of concern.
“I knew today would be very stressful and hard on your health so last month I visited Alchemist Yin and asked him to make a restorative tonic for you.” She gently rubbed Feifei’s back.
“For once, he had all the ingredients. Dragon’s blood mushroom and moon-petal leaves are hard enough to come by, but he had just been delivered a crimson lotus!
It was expensive, given the tonic takes a full two weeks to prepare, but restoring your health is worth the cost and effort. ”
Feifei smiled weakly as a maid presented her with a bowl of putrid grey liquid. She poked at the tonic with her spoon; gold tendrils bloomed and shimmered to the surface. Essential qi. She drank it, grimacing the whole time. It tasted as repulsive as it smelled.
She tried another tack. “But what about what every one is saying, Hsiao Niang? I heard the other day—”
The gentle smile Hsiao Niang always wore hardened. “Listening to bagua only brings trouble. Now, get dressed. We have an important day ahead of us.”
Knowing she could not sway her, Feifei gave in. “Yes, Hsiao Niang.”
Feifei’s maids helped her dress and did her hair.
Once she was ready, she dismissed them so she could put on her height stays, a silk belt to which she had sewn lengths of ribbon.
These ribbons looped under her heels and kept her knees bent beneath her skirts, taking a handspan off her height.
No one would mistake the full-head-shorter, weak, sickly Feifei for the Brocade Prince.
She dotted rouge on her nose and around her nostrils, smudged eyebrow dai under her eyes, and sprinkled ground malachite into her face powder.
Taking out her brushes, she carefully mixed some blues, purple, and a little more eyebrow dai, and went to work on the back of her forearm. Thus armed, she headed in for battle.
Feifei trudged through the open doors of the Receiving Hall and past the line of chairs either side of the central area, towards the main dais where Lord Yang and Hsiao Niang were seated.
She bowed to her father, then to Hsiao Niang. “Feifei has seen you and greets you, Father. Feifei has seen you and greets you, Hsiao Niang.” The words left her breathless.
Lord Yang’s eyebrows furrowed in concern as he gazed on his only daughter. Dark circles under her eyes made her look like she hadn’t slept for a week, her nose was raw from blowing it and her complexion had an unhealthy green tinge.
“Father is glad to see you, Fei-er. Please sit.” His voice was soft, as if speaking to a tender young child.
Feifei nodded and shuffled slowly to the chair nearest her father, breathing heavily.
When she swayed slightly, Lord Yang half-stood in alarm.
He knew she hated to appear weak, so he held his breath, muscles tensed, legs bent, ready to rush forward as he watched his daughter struggle to balance herself.
Feifei looked like she might faint, but at the last minute, she grasped the chair and sank into it like a wilted flower.
Lord Yang gestured to the closest servant. “Bring hot ginger tea.” He leaned towards his daughter. “Fei-er, are you sure you should be out of bed? You don’t look well.”
Feifei put a hand to her face, her sleeve slipping down to expose her forearm. “We mustn’t reschedule again. They’ll think we’re trying to cancel the engagement.” She turned sad eyes on him, wheezing harder for effect.
Lord Yang stared at his daughter. “What happened to your arm?”
“It’s nothing,” Feifei said, quickly pulling her hands inside her sleeves. “I was rushing to get ready and was careless; I slipped getting out of the bath. I’ve already put on healing ointment.” She gingerly touched her arm. Brightening, she said, “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
Usually, that was enough for her father to send Feifei back to her room to rest. But Hsiao Niang put a hand on his arm.
“The delays are making poor Fei-er worry and affecting her health. The sooner we have the wedding, the sooner all the pressure on her will lift.” She gave Feifei an encouraging nod.