by Qinghan CeCe
Wang Ruo leaned forward and gently touched the floating peony. “You must think I’m silly, Chonggu,” she said softly.
“Why would I think that?” Huang Zixia said, smiling.
She put her hand over her mouth shyly and whispered, “I don’t know if you can understand. Before, I used to wonder about my future husband, what my daily life would be like, what kind of person would I be bound to forever, but when I entered the rear of the hall and caught a glimpse of the Prince of Kui, I suddenly understood the life ahead of me, and all my fear of the future vanished. In that moment, I knew he was my soul mate.”
Huang Zixia thought about the way Wang Ruo looked when she saw Li Shubai, and how that didn’t seem to be the case. Still, she smiled and said, “I could tell.”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
“Okay.” Huang Zixia sat beside her, looking at her crimson cheeks and ardent eyes. Her thoughts returned to an early summer evening. Dragonflies flying over the pond, she with an armful of lotus flowers, that boy looking at her from afar.
She began to feel overwhelmed. When she came back to reality, there was a slight pain in her heart. She turned and saw the red light of the sunset and slowly stood. “Your servant must go back. The Princess can keep these books and continue reading.”
“Okay.” Wang Ruo absentmindedly stroked the peony petals.
Huang Zixia walked to the doorway. Wisteria bloomed in the small courtyard. An enchanting purple wrapped like fog around a shelf. The spring sunset bathed it in dazzling gold. She suddenly felt Wang Ruo’s timid joy in her chest.
She turned and looked at Wang Ruo and smiled. “Don’t worry, Princess, I won’t tell anyone. I’ll just let the Prince know you love the flower he gave you.”
Wang Ruo smiled.
The carriage sent by the Prince of Kui had already arrived outside the palace. Huang Zixia got in and rode through the streets of Changan. When they neared the East City, the driver suddenly called the horses to a halt. She wanted to see who would dare stop the Prince of Kui’s carriage. She lifted the curtains and saw they were outside a restaurant. On the second floor, someone was looking down at them.
The sun shining on his purple body made it as wonderful a sight as the wisteria in Wang Ruo’s garden. He looked as nonchalant as usual, his face more profound in the light, which did little to reveal his emotions. The Prince of Kui was looking at her from upstairs. She jumped out of the carriage, entered the restaurant, and knocked on the door of the upstairs dining room. Someone opened it immediately—it was Jing Yang, the other eunuch who always accompanied Li Shubai. His cold still lingered. He told Huang Zixia to be attentive to the Prince, closed the door, and left.
Li Shubai wasn’t alone. Also in civilian clothing were his brothers Li Rui and Li Run, as well as a woman playing the guqin. She looked to be in her forties and had beautiful features, despite their color being a little worn. When she saw Huang Zixia enter, she didn’t speak, only gave her a slight nod and plucked some clear, moving notes.
“She’s Dong Tinglan’s protégé, Chen Nian. The day before yesterday, Li Rui said she’d arrived in Changan, so Li Run and I asked her to come play for us,” Li Shubai said.
Musical instruments from the western region of Hu were very popular with that dynasty. The guqin was often called tasteless and irrelevant. Few people appreciated it.
Huang Zixia greeted the woman with a nod.
Li Rui smiled and said, “Brother, you’re getting a lot of use out of this little eunuch. What’s he up to today?”
“He has a great memory. I asked him to teach in the palace.”
“Oh, so he can break cases and has an impeccable memory like you?” Li Rui joked.
Huang Zixia saw Chen Nian squint as the setting sun shined in her eyes. Huang Zixia went and pulled down the bamboo curtain.
Li Rui watched. “Chonggu really is attentive.”
Chen Nian finished playing “Yu”; its beautiful sound captivated everyone’s attention, so no one responded to Li Rui. The sound just echoed on, and Chen Nian calmly touched her instrument and stood to bow to her audience.
“Wonderful, you can feel Dong’s great style,” Li Run said.
“You really played well. Interested in joining the faculty? We could refer you,” Li Rui asked the woman.
Chen Nian slowly shook her head. “I’m getting on in years. I’m a court musician in Jiangnan’s Yunshao. I lead an easy life. I don’t know if I could adapt to the institute.”
“Then why did you come to the capital this time?” Li Rui asked.
“When I was studying with Feng Yi, it felt right. We supported each other for two years and became partners. A few months ago, she suddenly left me, saying she would escort an old friend’s daughter to Changan and that it would take up to four months. But she’s been gone five months, and I have not heard from her. I asked all over, and no one could say why she went to Changan or whom she escorted, so I came to find out more. I found nothing and ran out of money. Luckily, I met other students who helped me get this incredible opportunity,” Chen Nian said.
Li Run smiled. “I think I know what you mean. You want us to help find your partner, right?”
“Right, if you can find her, I would be so grateful!”
“Changan is a big place,” Li Run said. “How about I write you a letter, and you can go to the ministry, and they can draw you a portrait to use.”
Chen Nian thanked him profusely. “No need to make a special drawing. I have a little picture from a couple of years ago. I always keep it with me, and we look alike. I’ll take it and show them.”
“That’s even better. Give it to us and I’ll write a letter.”
With a look from Li Shubai, Huang Zixia went obediently to get a pen and ink from the manager. Then Li Run sat across from Chen Nian and wrote the letter. Huang Zixia helped her open the rosin powder box so she could apply it to the strings.
Chen Nian was pleased with Huang Zixia’s attentiveness. She looked at her hands and said, “Can the little man play guqin?”
“I tried learning pipa and konghou, but I didn’t have the patience for it. I only learned a little before giving up.”
“Shame, your hands are perfect for it.”
“No one has ever complimented my hands before.”
“Your palm looks strong. It’s good for it to be a little bigger to stretch and reach more strings.”
Huang Zixia smiled. “Must be because I used to like to play polo.”
“The little eunuch likes to play polo?” Li Run said. “Next time we play, I’ll invite you.”
“I’ve just played a couple of games,” she hurried to say.
“You don’t look like the polo type. Too thin to play such a dangerous sport.” Li Rui squeezed her shoulder. Huang Zixia leaned back slightly and glanced at Li Shubai. He looked away and coughed. Li Rui heard, then got up and sat next to him.
Huang Zixia kept watching Chen Nian apply the rosin powder. Her loose skin, high nose, and small chin reminded her of her mother. “If I really want to learn guqin, which songs should I start with?” Huang Zixia asked.
“For a beginner, ‘Memory,’ ‘Thinking Often,’ and ‘East Fence Flower’ are good places to start. They sound nice but are simple and easy.”
“What about ‘Flowing Water’?”
“You’re kidding. ‘Flowing Water’ is very difficult. Even when my master played it, he wasn’t satisfied.”
“Well, is there a beginner’s song that starts with the word flowing?”
She thought a moment and said, “I’ve been in Jiangnan for so long and taught a lot of songs, but I can’t think of any like that.”
“What about one that rhymes with flowing?”
Chen Nian thought it over, then let out a small cry. “There is one. It’s soft and lingering, popular in Yangzhou. A lot of girls in Yunshao Court start with it. ‘Flowing Cotton.’ But as you’re a capital person living in the Prince’s palace, you definitely don’t know it.”
Huang Zixia thought of Wang Ruo’s shyness as she felt embarrassed. “I suppose not.”
“Yes. Girls from good families don’t bother with folk music.”
As the two of them spoke, Li Run finished his letter and sealed it.
Huang Zixia knew Changan well. She went with Chen Nian to get the portrait of her and Feng Yi. She told Chen Nian she would keep it safe. In the little portrait were two women, one sitting, one standing. Chen Nian was sitting and was painted vividly, a good likeness. The one standing had a crescent moon smile and was still charming in her forties.
“This is Feng Yi?” Huang Zixia asked.
“Yes, my partner was blessed with beauty.”
“Everyone is special in their own way,” Huang Zixia said slowly.
“My partner has an incredibly charming personality. It doesn’t show in the portrait, but when you meet her, you’ll see,” Chen Nian said cheerfully.
True, Huang Zixia thought. Little do you know I saw her a few days ago on the outskirts of Changan with the Prince’s future wife, Wang Ruo, when she offered me a ride.
The Wangs of Langya’s daughter claimed a Yangzhou musician’s partner was family. How could the high-ranking Wang Ruo’s parents know and entrust Feng Yi to send her to Changan? Huang Zixia decided not to tell Chen Nian. After all, a lot of people in the world look alike. Maybe the ministry had some record of Feng Yi and she was somehow related to the Wang family. Regardless, the whole situation was strange in more ways than one.
“The portrait is small and you can’t see it, but she has a mole above her left eyebrow, which anyone who saw her would probably notice,” Chen Nian said. Huang Zixia thought of that woman in Wang Ruo’s carriage but remembered only that she wore a headband that covered her eyebrows.
Huang Zixia put the portrait away and bade farewell to Chen Nian.
The carriage started toward the ministry.
The dynasty’s main departments were all in the imperial city. She entered the secure gate and walked toward the ministry. The officer, named Hu, was very enthusiastic. He helped her check the files on women recently in the capital. In the end, she found no one that fit the age, description, or name Feng Yi.
After she thanked him and turned to leave, she thought of something else. “Officer Hu, I have a request. A couple of things I’d like your help with, if you can.”
“I’m at your service, little man.” The Prince of Kui was a powerful man, so the officer naturally respected his people.
“The thing is, our Prince has already chosen the Wang family daughter and will marry her soon. I went to the palace a few days ago, but my memory’s so bad I forgot the name of the person with the Princess. I heard this family member entered the capital with the Princess; I don’t know if you can do me a little favor and let me look at their log.”
“Of course,” Officer Hu said as he turned and pulled out a file. “I remember very well—the twenty-sixth of last month. The Langya Wangs asked me to register the residence of the daughter of the fourth concubine. Right, here it is, four people in total.”
Huang Zixia looked at it eagerly and saw only: The Langya Wangs’ fourth daughter, Wang Ruo, went to the capital, attended upon by Xian Yun and Ran Yun, fifteen years of age, male servant Lu Yi, year of thirty-five.
The dynasty’s household registration system was quite strict, especially in the capital, so close to the Emperor. People coming from anywhere, even temporarily, had to report their dwellings to the ministry. “Darn, it only has these two girls’ names. Seems I’ll have to swallow my pride and inquire about the others,” Huang Zixia said. Then she thanked Officer Hu, got her things, and left.
As she was putting away the little portrait, another officer caught a glimpse of it and took on a very surprised look. “Officer, have you seen this woman?” she asked.
“Uh . . . I saw someone who looks like her, but I’m not sure if it’s her,” he said.
“Where did you see her?”
The clerk hesitated again. “West City mortuary.”
Mortuary. The word made Huang Zixia fill with dread. Anyone in the mortuary handled by the ministry was probably an unclaimed body.
“In the West City, several drifters from Yu were found dead. This morning, I went to register them. One of the victims and the woman you’re asking about look very much alike.” He opened the book and read, “Female victim, name unknown, in her forties, five feet three inches tall, petite, white skin, thick black hair, high nose, mole above her left eyebrow.
Mole above her left eyebrow.
Huang Zixia straightened up and said, “Is this body still in the mortuary? Could you allow me to take a look?”
The clerk put the book back and shook his head. “Not possible. They died of disease, so their bodies and possessions have already been incinerated.”
“Oh. So there’s no way.” She carefully wrapped the portrait up and thanked the clerk. “Looks like I’ll have to ask after the person who looks like the one in the picture. If I can’t find her, I’ll have to tell her friend she may have already died.”
She turned and left the ministry, rumbling along in her carriage. She kept looking at the portrait of the two women smiling, silent, thinking about what Wang Ruo said. When she was selected as Princess, her aunt went back to Langya to get her things. Her expression had been somewhat unnatural when she said it, and then she hurried to add that she was getting old and might not come back.
Not coming back. She really may not.
Huang Zixia thought of Wang Ruo’s little dimples, her extremely cute, shy look, and felt slightly entranced, as if she were gazing at the wisteria in the yard again.
Huang Zixia didn’t go to Chen Nian. She went to Kui Palace and handed the portrait to Li Shubai. She went over what happened at the ministry in detail, pointing at her eyebrow and saying, “Feng Yi and that body both have a mole on their left eyebrow, but I couldn’t tell whether Wang Ruo’s aunt had one.”
“Either way, it’s a starting point.” Li Shubai gave her an unusually pleasant look as he put the glass bottle gently on the table. “Sounds like there’s a lot to look into,” Li Shubai said with satisfaction, as if feeling that there was an order to things in the world. “Anything else you noticed that was amiss?”
Huang Zixia took her wooden hairpin out and put it on the table. “I thought . . .”
She quickly put her long, messy hair back in its bun.
Li Shubai looked at her silently. She folded her hands on her lap in embarrassment. “Force of habit. I always forget the little eunuch always wears his hair in a bun.”
“What’s going on with you? You can’t even remember two plus two.” Li Shubai frowned and handed her a piece of high-quality paper.
Huang Zixia picked up a pen, thought a little, and wrote “one, two, three.” “First,” she said, “the circumstances of Wang Ruo’s birth. Second, the identity of the woman accompanying her and whether or not she’s related to the Langya Wangs. Third, Chen Nian said Feng Yi was escorting an old friend’s daughter to Changan I think Feng Yi was probably the Princess’s music teacher. The first songs she learned would have been from the Yangzhou Court, like ‘Flowing Cotton.’”
“The Langya Wangs are an old, illustrious family; for them to have such a woman teach their daughter and send her to the marriage ceremony is too strange. Also,” Li Shubai said as his gaze grew colder and his voice quieter, “her death. The Wangs may have decided her life could be an inconvenience to them.”
“More importantly, is the victim who looked like Feng Yi actually her?”
Li Shubai tapped his finger on the desk a moment. “From what I know of the ministry, their men do lazy work. They couldn’t have burned the body and buried it deep.”
Huang Zixia suddenly felt a sense of dread, and a tingle on her scalp.
Sure enough, Li Shubai opened the drawer and gave her a little goldfish. “Zhou Ziqin lives in Chongren Square, near the grave of Dong Zhongshu. Go and find him.”
Of cours
e, Huang Zixia remembered the undertaker Zhou Ziqin. Her dread grew more intense. “The Prince wants me to go?”
He looked at her, his lips curving into a slight smile. “Of course. You can dig up the body with Zhou Ziqin and take a look.”
“My Prince! I’m a girl! I’m a seventeen-year-old girl! You’re asking me to go to the graveyard with a strange man in the middle of the night and dig up a body?”
“Didn’t you used to help your dad on cases? I bet you’ve seen more than a few bodies.” He was unmoved by her plea. “Or is your talk about avenging your parents just talk?”
As Huang Zixia looked at his lips and confident brow, her heart filled with resentment. Hearing him mention her parents made her blood run cold.
“Didn’t you already determine your sole purpose was to right the injustice done to your family?”
She clenched her teeth, took the goldfish off the table, and turned to leave.
Hearing the sound of the water clock, Li Shubai added, “Hurry, the curfew will start soon.”
“Give me a horse!” she said.
“You can have two. You better hurry,” he said, waving her away.
Six
CAGED BIRD
With two horses, riding one and leading one, Huang Zixia passed Anxing Square and Shengye Square. The streets were already empty.
Huang Zixia went to the house in Chongren Square next to the tomb of Dong Zhongshu, got off her horse, and knocked. A porter opened it, saw her eunuch clothing, smiled, and asked, “Who is the little man looking for?”
“The undertaker Zhou Ziqin,” she said, giving him the goldfish.
As soon as he saw the Prince of Kui’s name written on it he said, “Wow, hold on.”
She stood in front of the house, watching the moon rise. The drums signaling the start of the curfew made her anxious. It was the practice in Changan for the gates to be closed upon the sound of six hundred drumbeats at dusk and opened with four hundred the same way at dawn.
Luckily, a young man soon came outside. He looked younger than twenty years old, smart and elegant in a thick robe. The gorgeous embroidered purple top with white dragon on the waist, jingling purse, perfumed bag, and white jade pendant were typical but looked extraordinary on him. “Is the Prince of Kui looking for me, little man?” he said.
