A loud pounding on the doors jolted me awake.
“Xingyin, are you up?” Liwei called from outside.
I groaned, my limbs and eyes still heavy with sleep. “Come back when the sun is up!”
“No.” He sounded gratingly cheerful. “Must I remind you of our wager?”
I glared in his direction, a wasted endeavor when he could not see it. How tempted I was to leave him waiting outside, while I stayed in bed and ignored him—but that would be both petulant and pointless. More than the fact he was the Crown Prince, I had given my word. Kicking aside the covers, I dragged myself up and washed my face with cold water—too tired to even heat it—before throwing on a silk robe and gathering my hair into a low knot. When I stepped out, I found Liwei leaning by the wall, tapping his foot impatiently. He had dressed simply in plain gray brocade, his hair tied up with a black ribbon.
It was dark outside, except for the glowing rosewood lanterns. Not even the kitchen attendants had risen yet to prepare the morning meal.
“Where are we going?” I asked, as we hurried through the courtyard.
“Outside the palace. We don’t have lessons this morning as our teachers will attend court for an audience with my father. Even General Jianyun has released us today because of Captain Wenzhi’s return from battle.”
My ears pricked up. Captain Wenzhi was one of the youngest and most celebrated warriors in the Celestial Kingdom. The soldiers spoke of his accomplishments, and his skill with the sword and bow with such reverence, my curiosity had been roused. Unfortunately, he was often away on assignment, to the dismay of his many admirers—and when he returned, it was never for long. I had hoped to meet him myself on the training field, and part of me was a little disappointed to miss this chance.
Yet a thrill coursed through me at the thought of leaving the palace, as I followed Liwei to a deserted courtyard ringed by a thick stone wall. A pulse of his energy glided over my skin, as warm as a sun-drenched breeze.
“I’m disguising our auras,” he explained. “Otherwise, the guards will sense me leaving.”
From Liwei’s furtive behavior, this was not an official outing. Little wonder that we did not head to the main entrance as he was not permitted outside without the customary troop of guards and attendants. Only after he assumed his court duties, could he come and go as he pleased.
Struck by curiosity, I asked, “What’s my aura like? I can sense yours, those around me, just not my own.”
He gazed at me intently as I tensed with anticipation.
“Rain,” he said finally.
“Rain?” I repeated, feeling like a bubble pricked. It sounded dismal and dull, not exciting in the least.
“A silver storm; fierce, relentless, untamed.”
An unexpected warmth kindled in me at his words.
He grinned. “Do you like that explanation?”
My brief pleasure was abruptly doused. “Only if you mean it.”
“I mean everything I say. Maybe that’s why I displease my father so.” He sounded somber now, his teasing manner gone.
Trying to lighten his mood again, I asked, “Will whatever you’re doing help us walk through the wall, too?”
“Of course not. Just be patient.” His eyes narrowed in concentration as the air around us shimmered once more. A gust of wind surged, sweeping us into the air. My heart plunged, my stomach turning over as we were tossed over the wall—and set back down again at the edge of a large forest.
I staggered, clutching onto a tree. My breaths came short and fast. The sensation of nothingness, of falling through the air, brought unwelcome memories crashing down. The terror of the moment when I had leapt from Ping’er’s cloud.
Liwei stared at me. “You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”
Unable to speak, I crouched on the ground, pressing my forehead to my arms.
He had been hurrying me all morning, yet now he sat beside me in companionable silence. His arm slid across my shoulders, drawing me to him. I inhaled deeply, catching his scent—like spring grass, fresh with a tinge of sweetness.
Slowly, his heat seeped into my trembling body until I was steady once more. Conscious of his nearness, I shifted away, clasping my hands around my knees and trying not to think how cold I felt without his touch.
“I’m fine. We don’t need to sit here anymore,” I said.
“What happened?” he asked gently.
“I . . . I don’t like falling.” A sliver of the truth, barely scraping its surface.
Footsteps thudded against the ground, growing louder. Guards, patrolling the area? Taking my hand, Liwei helped me up, and we sprinted into the forest.
“Was this how you got out the first time I met you?” I asked, as we ran. After the months of training, I found it easy to keep pace with him.
“Yes. I was curious about my companion. I would be spending a lot of time with this person and I wanted to make sure they weren’t annoying, awful, or dull. I’d already visited six houses before the Golden Lotus Mansion.”
“Why did you hold the competition?” I wanted to know.
“Friends—real ones—are hard to come by in the Jade Palace.” His blunt admission took me by surprise. Countless courtiers and nobles vied for his attention. Part of my duties included sifting through the gifts and invitations which streamed into the Courtyard of Eternal Tranquility each day. Liwei ignored most of the requests, preferring to read or paint in his room than attend any banquet.
“I ask myself, sometimes,” he continued in a low voice. “How many would seek my friendship if I were not the emperor’s son? A position I did nothing to earn.”
I would.
The words sprang to my tongue, yet I could not speak them aloud. It sounded like hollow flattery when it was nothing but the truth. How many times did I wish he were not the son of the Celestial Emperor? And that I did not have to lie about who I was to keep my loved ones safe.
“With the contest, I hoped to meet someone new—untainted by ambition or greed. My mother thwarted me with her conditions, but fortunately, I met you.”
It was the first time he told me why he had aided my participation. “I thought you helped me because you pitied me,” I admitted with a pang of shame. I had not deserved his sympathy, not when I’d misled him into thinking my family was dead. Yet how could I have corrected him without more lies?
A smile lit his face. “I helped you because I liked you. You speak your mind, you take pride in yourself. You’re honest in what you want, and fearless in reaching for it. You don’t pretend to be someone else around me. And while you didn’t know who I was then, that holds true even now.”
Guilt doused the glow in my chest. I found myself unable to hold his stare. I was pretending, I had been right from the start. I was myself and yet, I was not who he thought I was.
He continued, oblivious to my unease. “When I’m with you, I feel you see me for who I am—not the crown or the kingdom. Not the favors I can extend or withhold.” He sighed then, with exaggerated heaviness. “Little did I know what I got myself into. Every night I fall asleep, worn out from your attacks, your insults ringing between my ears—”
“Nothing you didn’t deserve or ask for!” I retorted. “Might I remind you that you’re the one who insists on sparring with me day and night.” I ignored the hand he extended to me, glaring at him instead.
Liwei cleared his throat meaningfully. “And might I remind you, you’re not honoring the terms of our bet right now.”
Swallowing several choice insults, I took his hand. When his strong fingers closed around mine, I tried to quell the unexpected leap in my pulse.
We strolled through the forest, only halting at the sound of voices. The air hummed as though alive, with the mingled auras of immortals.
“We’re here.” He pulled me through the trees into a large clearing.
Dozens of stalls were packed together, coiling into a large spiral like the whorl of a shell. They were crafted from lacquered wood in red and black, blue and yellow, with painted signs displayed on the top. Mouthwatering smells of unfamiliar and tempting foods laced the air, and there was an undercurrent of excitement among the crowd already browsing at this early hour.
“What is this place?” I breathed, in a tone of wonder.
He seemed pleased by my reaction. “This market is held once every five years. It appears at dawn and ends by noon. Immortals come from all over to trade possessions, magical items, or rare delicacies.”
As we strode deeper into the clearing, heads swung toward Liwei like flowers to the sun. Even without his regal attire, his bearing and looks commanded attention. When he paid them no regard, their eyes slid to me—narrowed with speculation, widened in surprise. We were an incongruous pair, but what did I care for the opinions they wore as plainly as the ornaments in their hair? Nothing could dampen my excitement today, my exhilaration at being here with him.
As we walked past the stalls, merchants called out loudly to entice prospective customers:
“Enchanted amulets!”
“Lychees from the Mortal Realm!”
“Rubies from the Fire Valley!”
Customers purchased items by trading goods of their own—from sparkling gems and pearls the size of my thumb, to sachets of fragrant herbs and rings of precious metal. I would have lingered at every stall, but Liwei hastened me along.
“We only have a couple of hours until the market closes. The rarer items are farther down, toward the center,” he explained.
“Tea from Kunlun Mountain!” called a young lady as she offered cups to those passing by. The aroma from her tea was so fragrant, she soon attracted a long line of customers—Liwei and I among them.
Kunlun was a mountain range of great mystical energy in the world below. It was the only place in the Mortal Realm where immortals were permitted to reside, as long as they kept themselves hidden from sight. The rarest plants and flowers grew there, cultivated by the unique harmony of mortal and immortal energy. Sipping the tea, I found it wonderful—rich and aromatic, with a hint of bitterness that only enhanced its flavor. Liwei pulled out a jade ring and exchanged it for several silk bags of tea.
“Why the ring?” I asked. “Why the jewels, herbs, and such?”
“Some are for ornamentation, while the rest possess special properties or power. These rings”—he lifted his pouch—“each contain a fragment of energy which can aid in the casting of enchantments.”
A stall caught my attention, one piled with shells. Some were as large as my fist, and others, the size of my nail. Their colors ranged from pure white to azure, and a few with the blush of a lotus petal.
“These shells are enchanted to capture your favorite sound, melody, or even a loved one’s voice. They were picked from the deepest waters in the Southern Sea,” the merchant said with pride.
The Southern Sea, Ping’er’s home. I picked up a beautiful white shell, tracing my finger along its curve. However, with nothing to trade, I laid it down again. Beside me, Liwei dug out a ring of red jade, offering it to the vendor. I pulled his arm back, not wanting him to buy it for me.
“Will you trade the shell for a song?” I asked the merchant. “I could play you a tune to capture into these shells which might enhance their value.”
“How well do you play?” His gaze shifted, skimming the crowd for less troublesome customers.
Before I lost his attention completely, I drew out my flute and played a lively melody. One of my mother’s favorites, of the rain trickling through a bamboo forest. When the song finished, I was startled to find a small group of people around me, some holding out a colored stone or a silver ring. Before I could refuse, the shell vendor swooped in and took all the items. With deft hands, he wrapped up the white shell I wanted, placing it into my palm along with half the items I had earned. The rest, he dropped into his own pouch.
“A pleasure doing business with you,” the merchant said, winking at me.
My mouth fell open as Liwei clapped me on my back. “You should set up a stall here next time,” he suggested, in an amused tone.
I grinned. “And what would you do? Sit beside me and sell your paintings?”
He tilted his head to one side, his eyes bright. “Perhaps. We could travel the realm, stopping where we choose and leaving when we grow bored. It would be a good life.”
“Yes, it would.”
The words leapt out before I could stifle them. Impossible, a voice whispered in my mind, telling me nothing I did not know. The Celestial Crown Prince was not destined for such a life, unfettered by responsibility or duty. And how would such aimless wanderings help my mother? How could I leave her, alone and trapped, while I indulged my selfish impulses?
A pulse of silence beat through us, the air thick with sudden tension. To distract him, I lifted my palm to show him my earnings—a couple of silver rings, two drops of amber and a small blue stone.
“Let’s find some breakfast,” I said, pretending our earlier words had been forgotten.
We bought fresh lychees, crisp chive dumplings, and almond cakes, eating them as we made our way through the market. Our fingers were sticky with a coating of oil, sugar, and crumbs as we began peeling away the red scaly skin of the lychees, its translucent flesh sweeter than honey. Liwei likened their delicate flavor to the Immortal Peaches, which took over three centuries to ripen, but sadly the lychees possessed none of their magical properties.
It was almost midday when we reached the end of the marketplace, the very center of the spiral of stalls. The last one was crafted from black-lacquered wood, with a small sign that read “Precious Ornaments.” Its owner sat serenely among her wares, not calling out or waving to the customers. Her trays were crammed with carved pieces of jasper and jade, carnelian and turquoise, which could be fastened to one’s waist. Liwei picked up two exquisite ornaments of white jade carved into endless knots, a symbol of longevity and luck. Above them, gleamed a clear gemstone shaped as a tear, and from its base hung a tassel of azure silk.
Observing his interest, the seller drew closer. “Young Lord, you have excellent taste. Those are Sky Drop Tassels. Ask a loved one or dear friend to channel a little of their energy into it. When the stone is clear, they are safe and well. But when it turns red, they are in the utmost danger and you can use the tassel to find them.”
“I will take these.” Liwei counted out ten rings of grass-green jade, which he passed to her. She thanked him as she tucked the rings into her sleeve.
Liwei’s thumb grazed one of the stones in his palm. His magic swirled forth, the clear gem now aglitter with golden flecks of light.
He offered it to me, but I did not take it. “What is this for?”
“Can’t I give my friend a gift?” When he opened his mouth, I braced for another reminder of our wager, but all he said was “It would please me greatly if you would take it.” Something in his gaze held mine fast.
I nodded, unable to find the words. He smiled at me, before bending to tie the tassel to my waist. The jade gleamed mutedly against the pale silk of my dress. How I wished I had something to give him in exchange.
“Thank you. I will treasure it always,” I told him.
“You should,” he said gravely. “This way you’ll know when I’m in danger and you have no excuse not to come to my aid.”
I laughed aloud. An inconceivable thought that the Crown Prince of the Celestial Kingdom would ever need my help.
He gave me the other tassel. “Now, you. Channel your energy into the stone.”
I paused. “Are you sure?”
“Friends watch out for each other. If that is what you want, too?” The slight hesitation in his voice pricked me. Did he think I might refuse? I cherished this about him—that despite his position, he never demanded, that he always gave me the choice.
I pressed my fingers against the stone, releasing my energy into it. It glowed just as the one tied to my waist, yet with silver lights sparkling in its depths. With a smile, Liwei fastened it to his black sash.
“The sun and the moon. A matched pair,” the vendor remarked, as she picked up her trays. I looked at her—uncertain of her meaning—but as another customer approached her, we walked away.
At noon, the crowd dispersed, the marketplace obscured by swirling clouds of white and gray. The merchants packed up their stalls, stepped upon their clouds, and were swiftly whisked away. In just a few moments, all trace of the market had vanished, as though it had never existed—except for the weight of the jade dangling from my waist, the lingering sweetness of lychees in my mouth, and the warmth nestled deep in my heart.