The twins cheered. Then Mei paused and said with a frown, “You’re not just saying that to spare our feelings, right?”
“Absolutely not. This is remarkable.” Princess Zali swallowed the dumpling, then ate another one. “I’d hire you two as my permanent chefs. No offense and disrespect to the regular kitchen staff, of course,” she added to Chef Fan.
“None taken, Your Highness,” Chef Fan reassured her.
“Chef Fan helped us a lot,” Yun added. “We just added one extra ingredient.”
“Speaking of which,” said the chef. He turned to Yun and pleaded, “Won’t you tell me the secret ingredient? Just a teensy hint?”
“Of course,” Yun replied. Ignoring his sister’s fervent shakes of the head, he motioned for Chef Fan to lean in. When the excited chef did so, he answered, “It wouldn’t BE A SECRET IF WE TELL YOU, WOULD IT?”
Chef Fan rubbed his ear with a wince. “Well played.”
“Are you hoping this would amaze Fu-Fu and make him agree to help you?” Princess Zali asked the twins.
“Something like that,” Mei said with a cryptic smile. She bounced on the heels of her feet and said, “Do you feel different at all?” Yun nudged her, but she pressed forward. “Any new emotions, new feelings, Your Highness?”
The princess chewed thoughtfully. “As a matter of fact, I do. I feel...enlightened. Just earlier I was feeling glum about the whole situation. But every cloud of gloom has a silver lining. You know the bamboo stick Fu-Fu carries all the time?”
“Yes, he’s only threatened us with it at least five times,” answered Yun.
“I helped him make that. I taught him how to whittle the point so it’s nice and sharp. And these.” She reached up and slid one of her sharpened hair chopsticks from her twisted braids. She admired the weaponized end before holding it out to show the twins. “They can stab a grown man to death.”
The twins nodded respectfully. Mei had the good sense not to remind the princess that she’d pressed one of those very chopsticks to Mei’s neck a few nights before.
“You’re a natural at weapon design, Your Highness,” said Chef Fan, eyeing the razor-sharp chopstick with a nervous chuckle. “Please do not mix those with the imperial kitchen chopsticks, you hear?”
The princess smiled. “Don’t worry, I won’t. But you’re right, I am good at making things. Weapons included.” She sat up straighter. “I may not ever join my brothers in physical combat. However...I can join their ranks through my weaponry. I shall make the empire new weapons—the most effective and surprising weapons you’ve ever laid eyes on!”
Mei and Yun clapped. And as the princess enjoyed the rest of dinner, they brainstormed ideas for new weapons with her. They were equally astounded and slightly frightened by the princess’s whimsical inventions—which included a beaded necklace that poisoned the wearer when it touched the skin and a hidden star-shaped weapon that could kill someone in five different ways, including underwater.
Their spirits rose. Maybe, just maybe, they could reverse the curse on the city, rescue their grandpa and their parents, and turn one bratty nine-year-old into a new friend in the process. The twins only hoped they’d never cross Princess Zali in their future.
After they finished, Mei and Yun exchanged a look.
“Ready for the real test?” asked Mei.
“Better now than never.”
Wham! Fu-Fu hit his bamboo stick against the punching bag in his room. Whoosh! Wham! The sharp end poked a hole in the bag, and grains of rice toppled out.
The boy was angry at everyone—angrier than he’d ever been before. Angry at those rotten twins, angry at the guards, angry at himself. He hated how nobody took him seriously. How nobody commented on his combat skills. How he’d never be an heir to the throne. How, if word got out that his great-grandfather had been suspected of being a treacherous liar, his namesake would hold even less meaning. He would be no better than a peasant.
Wham! Worst of all, he was stuck with the babbling curse. It struck at odd times of the day. Anything he wanted to say would twist itself into a complex riddle.
The physicians had advised Fu-Fu to lie low in his room until it passed. So there he stayed, in his room of gloom. He gripped the stick and twirled, faster and faster, until momentum sprung it from his fingers across the room. It just missed hitting the servant who chose that moment to walk in.
Fu-Fu glared at him. Normally, he would have snapped, “What do you want?” but given his current speech issues, he remained indignantly silent instead.
“Master Fu-Fu,” said the servant with a slightly shaky bow. “The imperial kitchen staff would like to present your dinner.”
“Whatever,” Fu-Fu grumbled. He threw his stick on his bed.
The servants set up the table. The boisterous chef entered with a hot plate of dumplings and a teakettle. Fu-Fu was taking a drink when two more people walked in the room. He nearly choked on his tea.
“Why—here?” he coughed, pointing at the twins.
“These are my helpers,” answered Chef Fan with a bow.
“We just wanted to bring you your food,” said the girl with a sweet smile. “We prepared the dumplings ourselves.”
Fu-Fu folded his arms tightly to show there was no way he was trying the food, which was no doubt poisoned. The chef seemed to understand.
“I assure you, Master Fu-Fu,” said the chef, “this food has not been tampered with, you hear? We imperial chefs take our jobs very seriously!”
“We can take the first bite of whichever dumpling you eat,” offered the boy.
Fu-Fu felt words bubbling in his throat. Before he could stop, he pointed at the twins and blurted,
“What tells you what you want to hear,
But hurts you when the truth is clear?”
The siblings glanced at each other. “We’re not liars,” said the boy. “We’re here to help you. The curse has returned.”
Fu-Fu was surprised they figured out what he was trying to say. He also desperately wanted to learn more about the curse and all they knew. Unable to communicate such feelings (or perhaps simply refusing to show his interest), he lowered his head and glowered at the dumplings. His stomach rumbled; the food did smell amazing. With a scowl, he plucked one of the dumplings with his fingers, sniffed it, and cautiously took a bite.
The rich flavor melted on his tongue. Warmth spread in his stomach. He gritted his teeth together to mask his surprise and joy.
“What do you think?” asked the girl.
Fu-Fu shrugged indifferently. He almost reached for another dumpling, but forced himself to take a slow sip of tea instead.
“We were hoping to talk to you, Fu-Fu,” said the boy. “Our names are Yun and Mei. Yun Wu and Mei Wu. You’ve heard of the Wu clan?”
“Word that means the opposite of yes.”
“That’s right, neither have we. We don’t really have a family namesake. At least, we thought we didn’t.”
“Today we found out we’re related to Lotus, a woman who set an ancient curse on an entire city,” said Mei.
Fu-Fu eyed the two of them suspiciously. He didn’t see where this was going, and his stomach was begging for more dumplings. As nonchalantly as he could, he popped another one into his mouth. “So what?” he said with his mouth full.
“I’m willing to bet a lot of people hate her,” said Yun. “They probably hate us, too. Some already do—a woman from that city hit my sister with a cane. Just because we’re descendants of Lotus!”
“That’s rotten stupid,” said the chef with a shake of his head. “What do people expect you to do? Go back in time and reverse the curse?”
“I know!” said Yun. “We didn’t set the curse, Lotus did.”
“Exactly,” said Mei. “We are not Lotus. Lotus’s actions are not our own.” She glanced at the chef. “Can we have a moment to ourselves? Just me, my brother, and Master Fu-Fu?”
“I suppose,” agreed Chef Fan. He and the servants left with perplexed faces, as
they weren’t quite sure what was going on. The door shut behind them.
Mei and Yun turned back to Fu-Fu. He almost started to grab the bamboo stick, but didn’t. For the first time in a long time, he felt calm and willing to listen.
“You might have cousins who like to brag they’re descendants of the emperor,” said Yun. “But that is silly. The emperor’s achievements are not their own. I mean, Lotus was supposed to be a phenomenal poet, but neither Mei nor I can write a limerick to save our lives.”
“It’s a name, that’s all,” said Mei. “A very important and distinguished name, sure, but just a name in the end. We’re far more valuable than our names alone.”
“You are valuable,” said Yun. There was sincerity in his voice this time. “We control our own destinies, much more than our past does.”
Fu-Fu looked down at his bowl.
“Our village is in trouble,” Mei continued in a softer voice. “So are our parents. They’re trapped in time until the curse is lifted, just as you’re trapped speaking in riddles. You can help us, and you can help yourself. Give us the seal to the Imperial Library, so we can prove the Noble General framed Lotus’s husband.”
“That’s the only way we can lift the curse,” said Yun.
There was a long silence. Fu-Fu cleared his throat. The words were stuck.
He opened the doors to his sleek oak armoire and dug out Mei and Yun’s duffel bags. The twins looked surprised as he tossed them over.
“Thank you,” they said.
As the siblings examined the blue-and-white jar Mei had showed everyone onstage during the infamous play, Fu-Fu shuffled to his desk and grabbed a piece of parchment and a writing utensil. He scribbled something on the paper. Avoiding eye contact, he wordlessly handed over the page.
I will get it for you.
The twins stared at the writing. “Are—are you sure?” said Mei.
Fu-Fu nodded. Earlier, he had been in a foul mood, but the colorful dreamclouds’ magic that had soaked the dumplings was now settling inside his body the way a feather gently lands on the water. It was a subtle feeling, but a good feeling nonetheless. He didn’t know the reason for it, of course, but he now felt that he could handle whatever came his way.
“I’m good at sneaking around,” he said. “I—” His mouth contorted, and he finished,
“I have no true weight nor one true size,
Blending with darkness is my disguise.
Here in sun, but not in rain,
Silent, darting, hiding pain.”
Fu-Fu pinched his mouth with his fingers. Stupid babbling curse, he thought.
The twins looked sympathetic. “You are like a shadow,” said Yun wisely. “Excellent riddle.”
“Here’s a riddle from us,” said Mei. She cleared her throat and said, “What must you give in order to keep, and easily breaks without a touch?”
Fu-Fu paused. Easily breaks? Bones? No, that doesn’t make sense. A painted urn?
Then he got it. “A promise,” he managed to say.
“Exactly. We promise we’ll break this curse. Together.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
二十四
The Final Test
Later that evening, the emperor’s second son finally returned from his trip to the mountains. Immediately, the officials realized something was wrong.
“Something is wrong with His Majesty’s son!” the drivers shouted when they entered the court.
They escorted the prince, who seemed to only speak in babbling riddles, into the palace. They called for the wisest men and women in the palace to decipher the prince’s sentences. Altogether, they were able to get a few key words: storm, weather, tongue, mooncakes.
They also took the old prisoner accompanying him, the only person who remained calm. By then, the clouds in the sky had started swirling dangerously. On the other side of the Imperial City, Mei and Yun immediately recognized it as the beginnings of what had occurred the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival. As they camped out in the safety of the tiny kitchen where they’d prepared the dream dumplings, a palace messenger arrived.
“I am looking for two twelve-year-old servants,” the messenger said hesitantly. “One boy, one girl, almost identical?”
“That’s us,” said Yun.
“Follow me. You’ve received an invitation to approach the emperor.”
The twins nervously walked across the palace complex with the messenger. They realized they were headed to the large hall where the palace had held the banquet on their first night. When they arrived at the entrance of the hall, the messenger left them with a pair of servants who led them through the enormous doors.
“This way to His Majesty,” said one of the servants with a solemn nod.
The twins followed the servants through the great room, then down a long, adjacent corridor, then through another grand hall, until finally they stopped at an imposing doorway. An impressive gold-plated throne the size of a small house stood beyond the open doors. Across the chamber stood someone with their back to them. All Mei and Yun could discern was a tall figure in a fiery red robe.
“...and lock the gates,” the person in red was saying to three other servants who stood nearby. Those servants nodded, bowed, then scurried past the newcomers out the door.
The man in red slowly swung around. The pair of servants who had accompanied the twins immediately knelt. “Good evening, Your Majesty,” they said respectfully. Mei and Yun quickly followed suit.
The Emperor of China! Never had they ever thought they’d stand in his presence. His robes looked expensive and trailed behind him like liquid as he walked toward the two kids. He wore a matching red hat and had a long, black beard. “I’ve been expecting you,” the emperor said, giving the twins a curious look. “My daughter Zali told me the strangest tale this morning.”
Mei and Yun glanced at each other uncertainly.
“Afterward, she has requested I meet with you two to confirm her story. She says it is of the utmost importance and cannot wait until morning.”
“Yes, it’s very important, Your Majesty.”
The twins took turns explaining the entire story, from the day the emperor’s son arrived at their village to when they’d arrived at the Imperial City via a cloud. They explained Lotus’s curse on the fabled City of Ashes, and how they’d found evidence that cleared her husband’s name. They explained how their grandpa had been wrongly arrested, and how the curse had started to affect people at the palace.
Throughout all this, the emperor listened quietly and did not interrupt. At times his eyebrows rose, and other times he opened his mouth, then closed it without a word. When the twins were done speaking, he didn’t speak for a while.
“So, from my understanding,” he said quietly, “you’ve trespassed into my court, disguised yourself as servants, used my wife’s seal to sneak into the Imperial Library, and tried to steal a book and a bundle of letters, which you claim are proof against a nobleman who wronged this poet named Lotus?”
“Er, yes,” Mei and Yun said.
“May I see the book and letters?”
The twins paused. They had not yet seen or heard back from Fu-Fu since dinner, when they’d given him instructions on where to find the evidence.
“It’s in the Imperial Library,” said Yun nervously. “You’ll be able to find it easily. We’d be happy to show you ourselves.”
The room waited for the emperor to speak. It was so quiet that the twins could hear the crickets chirp outside the windows.
“Yes, I knew the Noble General well,” he finally said. “He was an advisor to my father. He was not quite himself in his later years. ‘The babbling commander,’ people called him. Although he was never part of the true royal lineage, a few of his descendants eventually made it in. They were much more pleasant than he was, thankfully.” At that, the emperor smiled. “One of them happened to be the mother of my second son, the prince who visited your village. We nobility, you understand, tend to have...complicated
family trees. If nothing else, the Noble General was an ambitious fellow, and I credit him for that.”
The emperor cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, given your trespassing and blatant disregard of palace rules, as well as your grandfather’s highly suspicious involvement, I am afraid I cannot take your word at face value. In fact, I find it a most unusual coincidence that the babbling curse came to this place only after you intruders arrived.”
Yun’s jaw dropped. Mei held her breath.
“My son and his companions have confirmed that the mooncakes given to him by your grandfather were the foulest, most bitter foods they’ve ever tasted, and that the prince started his babbling mere days after eating one. It seems to me that the three of you—you two and your grandfather—are conspirators in crime.”
“But, Your Majesty, we’re telling the truth!” insisted Yun. “Your timeline’s incorrect. The prince was already affected by the curse when he first came to our village. The mooncakes tasted bad because they were tainted by nightmares, brought about by the curse.”
“We told you,” added Mei. “We spoke to Lotus, and—”
The emperor held up his palm. “That’s enough,” he said, his voice firmer. “I’m afraid I have no choice. I’ll have one of my guards escort you to the dungeon where your grandfather is staying. The results of the trial will determine your fates, but don’t expect it to go well at this rate.” He looked up. “Yes, what is it, Fu-Fu?”
Startled, Mei and Yun turned to find Fu-Fu panting in the doorway. The boy had obviously run all the way there. For once, he wasn’t carrying his bamboo stick.
Two guardsmen headed toward him. “Wait, Your Majesty,” he cried. He patted his pockets frantically. His mouth contorted and he blurted,
“This object has a spine and back,
Yet face and bones are what it lacks,
Inside it all the proof resides,
Alternate messages it does hide.”
“Show me,” commanded the emperor, halting the guards.
Fu-Fu fumbled inside his pockets and pulled out a wad of letters and a blue book, marked with a piece of silk. He handed them to the emperor, who read through the material and examined the incriminating bookmarked page. Fu-Fu also handed over the glinting empress’s seal. Then he stood straight and motioned his hand as if writing. Yun quickly reached into his knapsack and pulled out an old pen and parchment. They waited as Fu-Fu scribbled on the paper and handed it to the emperor.
The Dreamweavers Page 18
