The autumn rain continued falling late into the night.
Xie Wuyan was wearing an overcoat, sitting cross-legged at his desk writing. A small brazier kept his knees warm. After waking, he first had a long discussion with the Crown Prince’s tutor Ling Que in the main hall. Then he moved to the side room to pen a reply to Prince Xie Heng of Wen. He had been writing all this time.
The pitter patter of rain hitting the eaves mingled with the sound of water in the medicine pool and his occasional soft coughs.
“Your Highness, it’s time to retire for the night,” said Baiyi, a attendant in white kneeling outside the screen.
“Very well,” replied Xie Wuyan.
He lifted his brush to dip more ink, continuing his letter. Affairs of state were complex, threads of all kinds woven together. He wrote for a while then stopped, eyebrows knitted tight. He rested his chin on a finger, lost in thought.
Luo Shi Yi waited a moment until he heard another cough before speaking again, “Your Highness, it grows late.”
“Very well,” said Xie Wuyan again.
He coughed a few times, tidied his sleeves, and took out fresh stationary to continue writing with freshly dipped ink.
“Your Highness,” said Luo Shi Yi after another stick of incense had burnt down. “A message just arrived from the bookstore.”
“If it’s nothing urgent, leave it be for now,” said Xie Wuyan absently.
“It was a verbal message sent by Young Master Jiang. She said she went to the bookstore tonight but did not see you there. She wants to discuss something with you. If you plan to meet her tomorrow, you should retire earlier tonight, Your Highness.”
The brush hovering over the desk paused.
“In my current state… I am not fit to meet her,” he said softly.
Luo Shi Yi kept his head bowed. After listening to another bout of coughing, he continued, “Young Master Jiang also left something for you.”
“What is it?”
“It’s the essay you ghostwrote for her last time.”
“Bring it in,” said Xie Wuyan.
The attendant in white emerged from behind the screen and respectfully presented a bundle of scrolls before the desk. Xie Wuyan accepted them and unrolled the top scroll. Seeing dense notes filling the margins, he stared blankly for a moment before carefully reading.
When he finished, he put down his brush and leaned an elbow on the desk, cradling his head in thought for a long time.
“Please convey my thanks to Master for his concern,” he finally said softly. “But this student, broken as he is, will not refrain from striving for a bright and just realm even if it costs ten thousand deaths.”
The sound of raindrops did not cease as he lifted his wrist at the desk to write another stroke.
The afternoon rain stopped. Jiang Kui hugged her broken spear as she slipped out of the palace, heading for Chang Le Fang.
Before arriving at Chang Le Square, she took a detour to the Dong Jiao Building bookstore. The storyteller Liu Qingming told her the essay and message had already been delivered to Master Pu Liu, but Master had not replied yet, likely because he was too busy.
Jiang Kui felt a little worried.
What if he wasn’t just too busy, but heavily injured?
She clearly remembered the vicious palm strike from the black-robed man at Tong Hua Gate. It would have shattered the meridians of any ordinary person. Although Zhu Zi’an knew martial arts, he had still fallen unconscious after taking that blow. How was he doing right now?
The Dong Jiao Building and Chang Le Square were very close. Jiang Kui hugged her broken spear as she wove through the bustling crowd into a small alley, towards the smithy at its end.
The smithy rang with nonstop clanging. Sparks sprayed violently from the cast iron furnace. A petite girl with rolled up sleeves lifted a hammer, pounding it onto the anvil before her.
Clang—! After the loud ring, she raised her face, wiping sweat from her brow. Seeing Jiang Kui, she smiled, “Xiaoman, are you here to play with me?”
“Xiaobai, I’ve come to ask your help,” said Jiang Kui, taking off the linen wrapped around her spear and holding it out. “My spear broke.”
The girl casting swords was called Bai Ying, a young maiden. She was one of Jiang Kui’s close friends. As the daughter of a blacksmith skilled at forging all kinds of blades, she ran the smithy at Chang Le Square and had quite the reputation in the martial world. Everyone respectfully called her Little White Master at the Sword Casting Pavilion. She was not very tall with a petite build, but possessed innate divine strength. With hammer in hand, she had forged her share of famed swords.
“Your spear broke?” Bai Ying took the broken spear, astonishment written on her face. “The Overlord’s Silver Flower Spear of Jiang Little Man – someone was actually able to break it?”
“I met a very formidable person I’ve never seen in the martial world before. He appeared out of nowhere.” Jiang Kui shook her head. “I didn’t get to fight him and he harmed Master Pu Liu.”
“What happened to Master Pu Liu?” asked Bai Ying. She turned and took a bamboo cylinder off a shelf behind the counter, handing it to Jiang Kui. “He sent someone with a message for you just this morning.”
“How did he know—” Jiang Kui started to ask before realizing it wasn’t that strange.
Obviously her spear was broken so she had come to the smithy to find Bai Ying. Zhu Zian must have guessed she would come here and left a message for her. It seemed he was not grievously injured if he had the leisure to send her a reply.
Thinking this, she opened the bamboo cylinder and pulled out a sheet of mulberry paper.
The front said in very formal writing: “The fifteenth of the eighth month, Dong Jiao Building bookstore.”
The back had the familiar messy scrawl she knew best, the characters vigorous like a dancing dragon and phoenix: “Don’t worry, I’m fine.”
“Who’s worried about you?” Jiang Kui muttered under her breath, though her lips quirked up uncontrollably. “So full of yourself.”
Bai Ying busied herself preparing a new shaft for the broken spear while Jiang Kui watched in boredom from the side. A thought suddenly occurred and she asked, “Little White, do you know Zhu Zi’an?”
Bai Ying had her head lowered examining the broken spear. At the question she glanced up, pondering for a bit before answering, “You mean Young Master Zhu? I don’t know him as Zhu Zian, is that his courtesy name?
“You all know this Young Master Zhu?” Jiang Kui blinked.
“Mm. He comes by Chang Le Square from time to time.” As Bai Ying worked, she answered, “He doesn’t live here but I heard he stays around Dong Jiao Building. Some say he’s a scholar who came to the capital to take the imperial exam but he never passed, so he just settled down here instead. He’s a bookish sort, very kind, likes helping the poor around here a lot. We all call him Young Master Zhu.”
“How come I’ve never heard anything about him?”
“There’s so many people and things happening in Chang Le Square, how could you have heard of them all?” Bai Ying said casually. “He’s not an important figure. Taking the exam for so many years without passing, I guess he’s just not that good at studying, right?”
Jiang Kui propped her chin in hand. “I guess so,” she murmured.
So many people at Chang Le Square actually knew Zhu Zian, yet had no clue he was the famous Master Pu Liu.
A spike of annoyance shot through her – so many have met him, how come she was the only exception?
“Speaking of which,” Bai Ying changed the topic, “how has Young Lord Duanshan been lately?”
Duanshan was the courtesy name of Jiang Kui’s eldest brother Jiang Luan.
All three young lords of the General’s Estate were familiar with Bai Ying since Jiang Kui had introduced them to come here often for blade forging. Over time they had become friends.
“He’s been fine, busy with military duties recently so he’s not at the estate much.” She tilted her head. “Little White, why do you always ask after my big brother? My second brother Jiang Changfeng and third brother Jiang Zhiyuan clearly have more interesting gossip.”
Bai Ying sighed. “Xiaoman, you’re really dense. Don’t you know what a sweetheart is?”
Jiang Kui thought for a bit before the light bulb went off. “My big brother is your sweetheart?”
Bai Ying nodded. “That’s right. Young Lord Duanshan has the gentle bearing of a Confucian scholar. I’ve liked him for a long time.”
“I’ve told you so much about him, how could you not have noticed?”
“What counts as a sweetheart?” Jiang Kui asked.
“A sweetheart is someone you think of often, wanting to see them and hear news about them,” Bai Ying earnestly explained. “Understand? Xiaoman, do you have a sweetheart?”
Jiang Kui was about to answer no when she hesitated, a smiling voice echoing in her mind calling her: “Little Man Jiang.”
Sounding quietly from a place in her heart.
Her expression faltered for a second.
Jiang Kui gave her head a shake, skipping over the question. “Little White, since my big brother is your sweetheart, why don’t I invite him over more to bring you two together?”
But Bai Ying shook her head. “Don’t make trouble. He’s a young lord while I’m the daughter of a blacksmith. The difference in status means we can never be together.”
“Just seeing him from afar is enough. I’ll be married off one day and so will he. As time goes by and I stop liking him, that will be the end of that.”
Jiang Kui watched her, gradually realizing – oh, so that’s what liking someone feels like.
Bai Ying fell silent, focusing back on her task. She tempered the spearhead in fire before laying it on the anvil, raising her huge hammer to strike rhythmically, showers of sparks illuminating the two girls’ bright and charming faces.
The wedding date drew near so Jiang Kui stopped going to the Academy to study. Instead she moved back to the General’s Estate from Penglai Hall, busy with preparing for her big day.
Jiang Kui’s mother had passed away early and her father was clueless about matters of the inner chambers. Thus her aunt Lady Jiang Tang had specially requested imperial leave to handle Jiang Kui’s trousseau arrangements. The General’s Estate became a flurry of joyful activity with all three brothers returning home to chat and joke with their little sister everyday.
The three sworn brothers made good on their past promise of teaching their sister special moves to “tame her future husband”.
First Eldest Brother Jiang Luan executed a flashy sword maneuver that rained blades from the heavens, naming it Layered Clouds Piercing the Nine Heavens.
Then Second Brother Jiang Feng bellowed loudly as he cleaved downward with a saber slash, calling it Myriad Stars Spanning the Galaxy.
Third Brother Jiang Yuan rolled his eyes and lazily pointed out, “Are you teaching our sister to go fight wars or get married? Looks like it’s up to me to impart my unique ultimate skill, Sealing Yin Trap.”
He lifted a hand, about to call Second Brother Jiang Feng over to demonstrate with him. Jiang Feng’s expression immediately changed as he took a step back.
…Thus he had no choice but to look hopefully at Eldest Brother Jiang Luan, only to see him standing aloof with hands clasped behind his back, gazing at the stars and pretending not to notice anything.
Finally Jiang Kui spoke up, waving them away. “Oh give it a rest, you lot. He’s just the Eastern Palace’s crown prince. I can handle him perfectly fine on my own.”
She crossed both arms, staring up at the vast starry sky as her thoughts drifted to the bookstore on the fifteenth day of the eighth month when someone had arranged to meet her there.
I wonder what he’s doing right now…
Unbeknownst to her, at that very moment there was also someone gazing up at the dazzling stars.
Wrapped in an overcoat, he stood under the brilliant sky with starlight covering his brow and eyes like snow.
The moon was almost full.
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