Midsummer noon, the wind and rain suddenly came.

 

The Crown Prince’s golden carriage returned from the Taiji Palace, stopping in front of the vermilion gates of the Eastern Palace.

 

In the slanting wind and drizzling rain, the Crown Prince’s adviser Gu Huai held up a silk umbrella, sheltering the disembarking Crown Prince and Crown Princess from the rain, accompanying the couple towards the side halls of the Eastern Palace.

 

On the return trip from Taiji Palace, the Crown Prince had been very quiet the whole time, his emotions barely discernible. The young girl beside him held his arm tightly, one hand clasping his fingers.

 

Upon reaching the palace entrance, the Crown Prince stopped and turned, bowing to Gu Huai, “Huai Zhi, how many years have you been at the Eastern Palace?”

 

Gu Huai was startled for a moment. He hurriedly returned the bow, then answered, “I’ve served at Your Highness’s side as a tutor since the Jiu’an years, over twelve years now.”

 

“It’s been hard on you, spending so many years at the Eastern Palace.” The Crown Prince bowed again. “You are known for your talent and virtue. Being my adviser is a waste for you. The court is lacking men of ability lately. I intend to recommend you for a post.”

 

“Your Highness,” Gu Huai bowed deeply, “This lowly official wishes to always remain by Your Highness’s side. I have no intention of taking up an official post.”

 

The Crown Prince shook his head lightly with a sigh. “Huai Zhi, I’ve known you for over ten years. I know your character and your aspirations.”

 

Gu Huai declined twice more before finally accepting with gratitude. He bowed even lower in the rain before taking his leave, umbrella in hand.

 

Xie Wuyan pushed open the doors to the side hall and sat down before a desk, taking a brush from the sandalwood brush stand, preparing to go through the piles of documents and memorials that had built up over the last few days.

 

Jiang Kui sat beside him, turning to look at him. “Are you afraid of implicating him?”

 

“Mm,” he answered softly. “Huai Zhi didn’t participate in our plans. He’s a man with ambitions who insisted on staying by my side in the Eastern Palace for so many years. I don’t wish to obstruct his future any longer…he’ll make a good official.”

 

“And also…” he murmured. “I don’t want to ever hear of anyone else coming to harm.”

 

The girl beside him fell silent. She lowered her head and took his hand in hers.

 

The rain fell harder, rapping at the window lattices.

 

Xie Wuyan read through one stack of documents and memorials, then lifted his brush again to start writing several long letters. Jiang Kui sat beside him, flipping through ledgers.

 

The water clock gargled marking the time, the allotted incense burning away. Xie Wuyan pressed his seal on the letters, dispatching someone to deliver them out of the palace.

 

He set down his brush. “Have Lu Shiyi ready a carriage.”

 

Silence filled the hall for a moment. No one answered him.

 

Raindrops pounded on the window lattices, making crisply tender echoes. In the distance, summer lotus bobbed in the pond, rustling faintly.

 

The palace room suddenly turned desolate and quiet, only empty wind and rain sounding, as if a bustling din had completely faded, humanity waned, looking around foggily at all four directions.

 

He seemed to have realized something, lightly closing his eyes.

 

In the keening winds he leaned heavily on the desk, head deeply bowed. A light gust blew the candle flame out. He just sat in the dark, rainwater descending from the heavens, falling into his eyes, drenching his seated silhouette.

 

His shoulders shivered slightly.

 

After a long silence, the girl beside him lit a lamp. Candlelight wavered without a sound, rippling over the floor.

 

She spoke softly, “He told me to tell you…he’s just leaving for a while. He’ll be back after a few days.”

 

“Alright,” he said.

 

He opened his eyes very slowly, gazing at the empty hall.

 

Then he rose, pushing open the doors and striding out. “Let’s go. Visit the Prince’s manor, to organize the letters Ru Xuan left behind.”

 

It was raining outside, but he had no umbrella, just standing motionlessly in the rain. He raised his head, watching the downpour, raindrops plummeting from the heavens, falling into his eyes, drenching his tranquil silhouette.

 

After some time, the girl sheltered him under a cyan-blue umbrella, accompanying him into the floating wind and rain.

 

The carriage passed water-filled palace thoroughfares, turning at a few street corners, and stopped before the gates of Prince Wen’s manor. White gauze covered every corner of the manor; people coming and going were dressed in plain white robes and flower crowns.

 

In the study sat a plainly dressed young woman, with an immaculate hair bun adorned by a single white silk flower. In the hazy rain-lit room it seemed sodden, utterly drenched, but still stubbornly held up every inch of stem and leaf.

 

Beneath an enamel cloisonné lamp, she tidied piles of letters at a desk. Glancing up at the two entering, she said, “I’ve organized everything. Those on the corner there, take back to the Eastern Palace.”

 

She smiled wanly. “I’ve spoken to Father.  I will be leaving the palace to set up my own residence. He has agreed to grant me this manor, which will become my princess estate from now on.”

 

Xie Wuyan closed his eyes for a moment without speaking.

 

“Wuyan,” she murmured. “From now on, the plans you’ve made will fall into my hands. The day the expeditionary forces return will be when we make our move on the Northern Administration.”

 

Her words faded to icy tones, sharp as an unsheathed dagger glinting coldly.

 

Xie Wuyan bent to gather the stack of letters from the corner. “I will send word to you,” he whispered.

 

He left the prince’s manor, then went to the Court of Judicial Review to ask about the east pavilion fire. Next he hurried from mansion to mansion within the imperial city almost without stopping, visiting acquaintances in office and discussing military mobilization matters.

 

After sunset he returned to the Eastern Palace to review documents by candlelight through the night. Before dawn the next day he took his golden carriage to Taiji Palace, requesting an audience with the emperor before morning court, then discussing affairs with officials after the adjournment. At dusk he returned to the Eastern Palace side hall, again taking up his brush to write letters.

 

This continued for several consecutive days. The incessant winds and rain did not abate. He busied himself ceaselessly day and night. When exhausted he would prop up his head before the desk, dozing fitfully for a moment before taking up his brush again.

 

In the quiet of deep night, coughs echoed softly through the side hall.

 

A girl in crimson robes carried an oil lamp, winding through zigzagging corridors until pushing open the carved wooden doors of the side hall. She set down the lamp before the desk at the back, behind the bamboo partition.

 

The man before the desk did not look up. “It’s late. Why aren’t you asleep yet?”

 

“You haven’t slept for days,” she said softly. “You should get some rest.”

 

“I’m not tired,” he answered gently.

 

He lowered one hand to forcefully rub his brow, coughing very softly.

 

She sat beside him, pressing down his hand before suddenly hugging him close.

 

The lamplight quivered sharply. He leaned into her embrace, seemingly startled, slowly and sluggishly parsing this hug.

 

“Xie Kang,” she whispered by his ear. “Give me some of your grief.”

 

“I know these days have been busy and tiring for you. You don’t even have time to feel sad,” she went on. “But if this keeps up you’ll be crushed.”

 

She gently covered his ear, nestling his head to her chest. Then she slowly bent her head, resting her chin in his disheveled hair.

 

“Give me some of your grief,” she repeated softly, “Alright?”

 

He closed his eyes in her embrace. His response seemed almost a mumble, “It’s too much.”

 

She held him tighter, suddenly wanting to make a joke. “Didn’t you know I’m as strong as five hundred jin?”

 

He seemed bemused, taking a very long time to process this before giving a faint chuckle.

 

“I know you laughed,” she chuckled too. “You haven’t laughed in so long…”

 

He didn’t reply. Still in her embrace, he fell asleep without a sound. Head bowed, eyes lightly shut, his breaths evened into tranquil lengths.

 

Rain-sound filled his ears ceaselessly echoing in the silent palace room. In the candlelight she cradled him in her arms, halting all movement for a long time until even the winds stilled, dawn light spilled like pillars around them.

 

Several days later the winds ceased and rain stopped.

 

Xie Wuyan returned from court and pushed open the doors to the west wing. He went before the girl at the desk. “We’ll be setting off for Huainan shortly. I managed to request an edict and will have you appointed as deputy general. We’ll be campaigning together.”

 

“We’ll rout them fleeing in disarray,” she said, raising her face from piles of documents.

 

The trace of a smile touched his lips. He ruffled her hair then sat at the desk beside her, lowering his head to flip through the letters.

 

After a few pages he seemed to freeze, staring at a paper missive. “Master wishes to see us.”

 

She also paused in surprise. “Master wants to see us?”

 

“He heard we’re going to the front lines and wants to exhort us a few things.” He read the letter. “He said to bring your spear.”

 

She turned, grabbing the spear leaning against the wall and wrapping it in undyed linen, looping it round and round the haft as she talked. “He probably wants to instruct me in spear arts…I heard Master was on campaigns before.”

 

“I didn’t know. He’s never told me about it.” He loosened his collar, taking off his scarlet robe and pulling on a round-necked one. “Let’s go.”

 

The two slipped neatly over the palace walls, rising and dropping between countless rooftops until stopping before the wineshop at the street corner of East Pavilion.

 

The wineshop doors were closed today. Flowered head signboards swayed breezily in the wind.

 

Xie Wuyan rapped his knuckles against the wooden doors. Without waiting for a response inside he went straight in pulling Jiang Kui along.

 

In past days learning their craft here, the two disciples never waited for their master’s reply after knocking, just one rap then pushing the door open and walking right in. The habit held even today.

 

Master was dressed in undyed linen robes, standing before rows of wooden cabinets arranging stacks of wine jars. Hearing the sounds he turned to see his disciples come in, sweeping an eye over the girl behind. “Hold him down on the table.”

 

After so many years the reflexive obedience to Master’s commands still held fast. She didn’t even think, slamming the person in front and forcibly sitting him at the tableside bench, then slapping both his hands flat on the tabletop.

 

Smooth as flowing water, done in one go.

 

He seemed startled, gazing at her somewhat indignantly. “What are you doing?”

 

“Whenever Master wants to catch someone he has me do this,” she tilted her head. “Hasn’t he had you catch people like this before?”

 

“I’m usually the one being caught.” He fell silent a moment before slowly replying.

 

Master set several wine jars in the corner then took a few steps to their side. He had Jiang Kui keep Xie Wuyan’s hands pinned while pushing back one sleeve.

 

Xie Wuyan raised his head with a sigh. “Go ahead, Master.”

 

Master gave a cold snort. Pinning two fingers to his pulse he remained still for a while, then his expression darkened. Standing behind the disciple he slapped the back of his heart.

 

Xie Wuyan gave a muted cough, swaying slightly until the girl beside him steadied him.

 

“I’ve said many times not to casually employ inner energy,” Master said coldly. “After you used inner force your old injuries acted up again, didn’t they?”

 

He didn’t wait for the disciple to reply, tone icy. “Old injuries acting up is one thing. What possessed you to strain yourself like this these days?”

 

He turned to the other disciple. “You knew he was straining himself?”

 

The girl lowered her head. “Yes.”

 

“Master—” Xie Wuyan suddenly called out.

 

Head deeply bowed, he whispered, “People died for me. People took my place in death.”

 

Master was silent a moment, gazing at the disciple.

 

Then he murmured, “I heard about the wineshop fire…the Imperial Guards have been rounding people up everywhere, rumored to be about an assassination attempt on a nobleman. So the deceased was your kin?”

 

Xie Wuyan closed his eyes. “Yes.”

 

Master sighed heavily, gentling his tone. “I know you’re grieving. But you must understand what they hoped for you. People died in your place, hoping you would live on.”

 

“I understand,” Xie Wuyan whispered.

 

Master gripped his shoulder. “Before your wounds have healed, do not employ inner force again.”

 

Xie Wuyan nodded. “I understand.”

 

Master exhorted him some more. Xie Wuyan agreed to every instruction. Jiang Kui released her hold on him, hugging the linen-wrapped spear as she sat listening to their conversation.

 

She was engrossed in her listening when Master glanced over. “Put your spear on the table.”

 

She stood ramrod straight, undoing the linen wrappings and laying the long spear neatly on the table before Master.

 

Master turned again to Xie Wuyan. “Draw your sword as well.”

 

Xie Wuyan slid his sword from its scabbard at his waist, cradling the blade horizontally and slowly setting it on the table.

 

Master raised a hand, gently brushing over the spear’s white pear-wood shaft, then rapping his knuckles against the sword blade making a clear ringing tone.

 

“This spear and this sword…” he said slowly, “were originally a pair.”

 

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