Scarlet Dandelions

by Fynn Chen

  Back when Wanwan was first asked to go back to her homeland, she had made the promise to the Emperor of Pei that she would return to the palace. However, she had not specified when.

  Yanyan had returned to the palace after a short stay at the steppes of two weeks. Much to their regret, with Yanyan’s marriage proposal still in effect, there was no excuse for her to overstay in Bo’er. Though for Wanwan, the Great Khan had plenty of reasons to make his youngest stay at the steppes. There was the reason of negligence that resulted in her injury and there was also the justification that Princess Yexuan’s health had improved before Wanwan left.

  With their numerous warfare with the Jing people, the Great Khan would not allow another country to distract him by using his daughters as hostage and as a bargaining token against him. Wanwan had also conceded to the fact that the possibility that she could break Yanyan’s marriage proposal was slim and the social class difference amongst the Pei civilians was perhaps out of her league to care for.

  Maybe Yanyan was right, she was only a young child of eleven, what could she do. Therefore, Wanwan had pushed those affairs to the back of her mind. Perhaps, just perhaps, she would give up on all these goals and leave it to greater men to accomplish them whilst she relished in the freedom that was granted to her right at this moment.

  Her father Khan had doted on her so much more, hiring martial arts teachers from their lands and afar just to teach Wanwan all that she had wanted to learn.

  Aside from joys attained from learning all the martial skills, what was most important to Wanwan was that she felt carefree again. Wanwan was surrounded by nature, the very sights, sounds, and smells of it made her feel happier. Yet, she had to admit that she was beginning to miss some things or rather some persons. The person who kept coming to her mind was undoubtedly her companion, Princess Yexuan.

  Her other royal brothers, Zhenxing and Zhenyin, soon rode up to meet the pair of younger siblings. Upon noticing how unfocused their younger sister looked, they became slightly more alert. They must have reckoned that Wanwan was thinking about her palatial life in Pei again and tried to occupy her senses to distract her from her thoughts.

  “Come on, Wanwan, time to let our eagles unfurl their wings,” Prince Zhenyin said enthusiastically.

  Wanwan allowed herself to be distracted and expressed her delight. Eagle training was her newfound favourite activity owing to its dangers and unpredictability. During the past nine months, Wanwan was finally allowed to hunt with their eagles and spent a lot of effort learning the ropes from her elder royal siblings. They were all experts at the hunt, and they had gifted her one of the most capable yet gentlest golden eagles to practice with.

  Once they had returned to the aviary and equipped themselves, they were out again. One of the beast keepers brought the magnificent hunter to Wanwan who stroked the eagle’s neck as she had been taught to do before perching it on her forearm.

  “Careful now, we do not want any scratches on you like the last time. Father will skin us,” Zhenxing said, his hands in an open posture, ready to control the situation should it turn awry.

  Wanwan gritted her teeth, feeling both nervous and excited at the same time as the beast’s talons found its grip on her slender arm. During their last practice session, her brothers had promised her that the next would be the real hunt and it would last for at least two to three days. They would return to their yurts just in time for her birthday feast.

  The princes and Wanwan rode steadily on their sturdy steeds with the hunting eagles sitting relaxedly on each of their forearms. Each of the hunting eagles had hoods over its eyes to prevent them from getting distracted by their surroundings. They travelled to the bare mountains and the valleys in search of hunting animals. Stationing themselves at a vantage point, the princes and Wanwan scanned the area with their practised eyes for any prey for their birds.

  After a patient wait of a few hours, a wild fox with dull brown fur made its appearance against the sandy backdrop. Wanwan was the one who caught sight of the animal and she alerted her brothers. Zhenxun, who was just as excited as she was, grinned, and released his golden eagle. Zhenxing urged his younger sister to do the same.

  When Wanwan released her eagle, it took off with a mighty flap of its wings and sustained its flight with just a renewed flap. Wanwan watched in awe as the two eagles circled and entrapped their prey. She had always hunted birds but never had she made an ally with birds to hunt. She felt enlightened in some ways, that perhaps, it would be wiser for her to harness the use of things or persons with great capabilities to achieve her cause. Wanwan began to reassess her ideals and envisioned herself as someone who could motivate people to do things according to her will.

  “Look, Wanwan! It would not be long before our eagles succeed!” Zhenxun cried excitedly.

  Wanwan peered into the distance where the fight between the beasts was taking place. The fox had put up a remarkable resistance, but it was futile against their two great predatory birds. Eventually, it was Wanwan’s eagle that sank its sharp beak into the fox’s underbelly and brought the kill back to the hunting party.

  Wanwan cheered happily at her first taste of a successful hunt with her golden eagle. Yet, almost as quickly as it came, her joy fizzled when her memory was brought back in time. The time when she had first hunted with the princes from the Pei and met with the terrible mishap with the wolves. Soon, Yexuan was on her mind again. Wanwan would never forget how Yexuan had tended to her so devotedly in the night. Despite Yexuan’s frequent cold words towards her and their final squabble, Wanwan realised that she truly missed the courtly princess a lot.

  “Too overjoyed by your first hunt?” Zhenxun interrupted her flurry of thoughts and teased, “my eagle hurt the fox enough with its strong talons so yours could claim the kill.”

  Wanwan scowled, but her brother’s words were fair, and they rewarded both the eagles equally.

  The next day that followed was even more exciting as they traversed into the wilder parts of the mountains where little to no tribes resided in and the sole reason anyone would be there was to hunt. This was a place where wildlife flourished. They had even killed two large wolves which they intend to bring back to their father Khan.

  On the last day, Wanwan felt a sudden pang of uneasiness rising up from her chest just as they were retracing their paths. Wanwan did not know why or how but her mind had veered sharply to Princess Yexuan. Zhenxun, who must have caught his sister’s looks of discomfort from his peripheral vision immediately nudged his mare towards Wanwan.

  “Are you finally exhausted?” Zhenxun asked in a slight tease but concern was evident in his voice.

  Wanwan gave an absent-minded nod of her head which must have been uncharacteristic of her. That was when Zhenxun decided to notify his other brothers, leaving Wanwan slightly annoyed.

  “Let’s return for your birthday feast,” Zhenxing said decidedly as he put the hood over his eagle.

  **

  Yexuan threw up for the second time that day. Her body was so weak that it had started to reject solid foods. Flustered maids scuttled about her quarters, cleaning up and relaying instructions to one another. In her dazed state, she could make out that they were trying to summon the imperial physician and to send a message to the Eunuchs who would in turn inform her father Emperor. Yexuan would have stopped them if she could, but her body was racked by another violent cough.

  As she laid back in bed with her chest heaving, her only thoughts were of the wildling princess. Young and carefree as she was, back in her homeland that was of the vast green plains in her imagination. A smile touched Yexuan’s lips. Those thoughts of Wanwan had relaxed her and even though she was happy that the wildling princess was finally free back at home, Yexuan still yearned to see her one last time. Just once.

  It would be Princess Wanwan’s twelfth birthday in a few days, Yexuan remembered. She had been preparing her gift, an embroidered pillowcase, even though she knew that it was likely the wildling princess would
never return to receive it. Day by day, night by night, as long as she had the strength to lift herself off from bed, she would work on the embroidery. It did not matter even if her eyes were becoming blurry, it did not matter if her fingers were pricked, it did not matter even if her mind turned muddled, this piece of embroidery was akin to her lifeline, something that kept her going. Finally, when it was completed, Yexuan had nearly exhausted all her strength but at least she was satisfied with her needlework.

  Tears came into Yexuan’s eyes as she reflected on her life. It had been a short journey and her existence in the world had been negligible. Yexuan had always felt this way but Princess Wanwan had changed her perception for a length of time, no matter how short-lived that period was. Princess Wanwan showed her the beauty of life in the stories she shared and the vitality of it which was embodied within herself. Yexuan wondered what the wildling princess was doing right at this moment. Tears wet her cheeks and Yexuan found herself falling back to sleep, unable to imagine further.

  **

  The Bo’er tribe people were all dressed up in festive clothing. Unlike back in Pei where only the royal family members were invited to join the princess’s birthday celebration, the common tribesmen and women of Bo’ers were encouraged to participate in the feast as long as they could secure a seat.

  Rows and rows of tables were lined out under the open night sky with Bo’ers, old and young alike sitting in harmony together. There was not an inch of table that was not covered with large bowls of strong cheese curds, roast wolf soup, piping hot mutton stew and more. Interspersed amongst the food dishes, were jugs filled with wine made from barley, rice, and a variety of fruits.

  The birthday feast was as Wanwan had remembered from the previous years. An intimate yet hearty affair as the Bo’ers carved great slabs of meat directly from the fire pits, ate greedily from their bowls, and drank deeply from the jugs. There were traditional dances with the accompaniment of bone drums and Tsuur, which Wanwan had missed dearly. The young princess leapt up from her seat to join in the dance with the Bo’ers, eliciting much laughter from her royal brothers and father. The birthday girl had goofed around so much that the Great Khan had slapped his thighs with laughter whilst her brothers had folded in with great amusement.

  As they moved on to eating desserts that were being passed around, Wanwan was suddenly reminded of the Osmanthus cakes and tea that she had so often consumed with Princess Yexuan. Wanwan could almost hear Princess Yexuan’s nagging voice, urging her to clean her hands before eating the dessert or even chiding her to eat in a more refined manner. Then she had the phantom feeling of Princess Yexuan’s soft and delicate hands winding around her wrist like how she often did when they practiced calligraphy.

  All of their memories together came flurrying back to her at once and Wanwan suddenly felt herself detached from the festive mood. Wanwan found herself brooding over Princess Yexuan once more. Ever since her return, the Great Khan had tried his best to minimise her knowledge of the happenings back at the palace.

  The next day however, nothing could stop Wanwan from learning things as they had unexpected visitors from the palace. It was an envoy escorted by dozens of imperial guards from the Pei court and they had come specifically to discuss Wanwan’s return. It was then that Wanwan had learnt that Princess Yexuan was gravely ill.

  “That does not concern our Wanwan, she has already fulfilled her duties as a companion to Princess Yexuan and saw that she was on road to recovery. The Pei court already has my eldest daughter, I cannot let you have my youngest daughter too,” the Great Khan had spoken menacingly.

  The envoy looked in distress and pleaded for the Great Khan to rethink his decision. According to the envoy, the Emperor of Pei was willing to offer many deals for this discussion to go through. Even lending strength to the Great Khan’s cause to crush the Jing army.

  Wanwan knew she was not supposed to interrupt in political discussions, but she could not help herself.

  “How is Princess Yexuan?” Concern was so thickly laced in her voice that Wanwan became aware of just how much she was missing the princess.

  The envoy met her eyes and in it, Wanwan detected sincereness in his requests.

  “The princess might not make it to the end of Spring,” the envoy had spoken with regret.

  Wanwan gasped despite herself and she felt a throbbing ache in her chest area.

  The Great Khan sighed at the news, but his decision was firm, and his gaze held warning in them. “That is indeed really unfortunate, but we must convey our regrets that I cannot allow my Wanwan to-”

  “Father, I want to go back,” Wanwan had interrupted. “It is my duty, Princess Yexuan had not fully recovered when I had left. I had promised to return, I would be an oath-breaker if I did not make it back before she… she… succumbs to her sickness.”

  The last phrase had been so difficult for her to utter that Wanwan almost choked on her words.

  The Great Khan’s face had coloured, and he sucked in a deep breath as he bellowed out, “Bo’er’ji’ji’te Zhenwan!”

  Tension rose in the throne room and her brothers casted wary glances at Wanwan, but she ignored them all. Wanwan took a bold step forward, towards her father Khan and met his burning look with her blazing ones.

  “Father, Bo’ers cannot break promises. I made one to Princess Yexuan which was to return to become her companion and I still owe her another.”

  The Great Khan’s fists trembled with controlled rage.

  “Wanwan, stop speaking out of turn!” Zhenxing had intervened in an attempt to save her.

  “Father, Wanwan just misses her friend, she did not mean to go against your intentions,” Zhenyin added.

  “Princess Yexuan had treated our Wanwan really well, that was why she has such lingering concerns,” Zhenxun quickly supplemented.

  Wanwan appreciated her brothers’ concerns but she did not need it. Maintaining her silence, Wanwan did not back down.

  The Great Khan had his fierce eyes trained on her, but she knew that her father Khan could not bear to berate her further. Especially not before the envoy and when so many of her royal brothers had stepped in to help her. All reasoning had melted away and Wanwan, despite her love for her homeland and her family, had her mind filled only with images of her time with Princess Yexuan, of her healthy self before Wanwan left the palace. Wanwan did not want to believe that her condition would deteriorate so quickly and found herself more eager to return than ever.

  The envoy then took this chance to slip in a few more words. “Great Khan, the princesses have a precious friendship with each other, maybe Princess Wanwan could really help our princess recover.”

  Shutting his eyes, the Great Khan agreed to think over the proposal.

  Zhenxing, Zhenyin, and Zhenxun escorted Wanwan back to her own yurt as if fearing that she might cause more trouble.

  “You are courting death, do you know that?” Zhenyin reproached her gently but paused when their elder brother had taken over the lecture.

  “Father Khan has been lenient to you all these while, but he is still the Great Khan whose causes are far greater than keeping the life of some sickly princess,” Zhenxing scolded more harshly. “You have made an ugly situation for father Khan to handle, Wanwan. Do not take father Khan’s leniency towards you for granted.”

  Wanwan did not know when she had begun to cry, but all she cared about was the promise she had made to Princess Yexuan. And of all the bickering between them. And the laughter they shared with each other. More tears began to fall, and she wiped it roughly away with the hem of her sleeve. Then she remembered the two handkerchiefs she had carried with her wherever she went. Retrieving them both from her tunic, she stared long and hard at them, momentarily forgetting the presence of her royal brothers.

  “Wanwan… why are you crying? Do you really miss the princess that much?” Prince Zhenxun asked in a gentler voice.

  Wanwan nodded, “brothers, Princess Yexuan had taken care of me while I was inju
red. When people were asleep, she slept by my bed despite her ill health. Brothers, please, help me on my cause, let me return to the palace. I swear to not be a hindrance to father’s ambitions. I might even be of his help. Please, brothers, I promise that.”

  The look of compassion on her brothers’ faces told Wanwan that she was on the cusp of convincing them and Wanwan prayed that night. Wanwan prayed to the gods of the mountains, fields, and rivers, to the stars, sun, and moon, to whatever other celestial beings there are to watch over Princess Yexuan and keep her alive. Wanwan would return, she must return, for she had promised to do so.

  Wait for me Princess Yexuan, I will return soon.

  10 Wishes of a Wilting Flower

  As Yexuan stared listlessly out into her empty courtyard, dreaming of the times when she had played the zither while Princess Wanwan practiced her sword moves, she was plagued by a hacking cough. Traces of blood came along with it. The imperial physician was at his wit’s ends as he could not understand what was truly wrong with the princess. Nothing was wrong yet everything was wrong at the same time. Her birth, her existence, and Princess Wanwan.

  Yexuan began to wonder about the workings of life once again, of how kind yet cruel it could be. Kindness was bestowed in the form of having gotten to know Princess Wanwan, and cruelty struck her by ripping her newfound companion away from her. In the enclosed darkness of Yexuan’s tiny world, Princess Wanwan was akin to a beacon of light shining through the cracks. Though most of the strong, shining light was reflected off the outer-surface of her sealed dome, some of it seeped past it and eventually found Yexuan’s frosted soul in its core, providing illumination to the darkness within. This darkness that was her resentment of this world. For stealing her mother’s life, for causing her mother so much anguish when she had been alive, for keeping herself, Pei Yexuan, alive for far longer than necessary.