In the dim candlelight, her heart skipped a beat.
Fireworks burst amidst the sea of stars, accompanied by the crackling pop of firecrackers.
In the far distance, drums and flutes carried drifting strains of melody, one note slower than the last, floating further and further into the alley.
“Zhu Zi’an?”
She called his name softly.
He did not reply, leaning against her in slumber. She held him, turning to gently press her forehead to his. Snow drifted soundlessly between their interwoven sleeves.
“Someone once claimed to be a righteous gentleman,” she whispered by his ear. “In the end, taking advantage while asleep.”
He carried a faint scent of wine, mingled with the crispness of snow and white plum. Clean yet pleasant. His breath was as cool as cradled snow. Yet her cheeks burned faintly flushed.
“Xie Kang,” she murmured his name. “A peaceful birthday to you.”
The carriage wheels rumbled over the stone-paved road. With a crisp jangle of dangling pendants, a white-canopied black carriage pulled up at the end of the alley. The youthful coachman in black vaulted down nimbly.
“Young Master Jiang,” Lu Shiyi cupped his hands respectfully. “Master Shen the physician sent me to fetch you. Has His Highness fallen asleep?”
“Mm,” the girl before him affirmed, gazing down at the slumbering figure in her embrace with a subtle smile. “Sleeping deeply.”
Supporting the unconscious man between them, they brought him aboard the carriage. The curtains fell, sealing the cabin. Turning around from his seat, Lu Shiyi asked, “Young Master Jiang, to the Eastern Palace?”
The maiden shook her head. “He likely wouldn’t wish to return there.”
She glanced sideways at the man beside her. “Take us to the little garret instead… He prefers staying there.”
The carriage rolled past streets littered with spent firecrackers and popped balloon fragments, coming to a halt below a tailor’s shop at the end of the alley where the garret stood. The girl assisted the slumbering man out of the cabin, guiding his steps up the creaking wooden stairs into the candle-lit garret flooded with warm glow.
After settling him comfortably in bed and tucking him under a thick fur blanket, she undid his hair tie and neatened his loosened hair. Then she pushed several glowing braziers close to warm the area around him.
The hour after midnight was the coldest and most difficult to endure.
In the dim illumination, his eyelids remained shut, lashes low, chin lightly brushing the soft fur as he burrowed into its edge – features restful and serene in the gentle glow.
His breathing was terribly faint, light and shallow, barely audible. She bit her lip lightly as her brows knitted together in concern.
In the golden candlelight, she leaned down to press an ear against his chest, straining to listen for his heartbeat.
It came slow and feeble, faltering irregularly at times. Her own heart twinged in echoing pain.
She then slipped under the blanket, embracing him closely to heal his injuries.
Nestling into the crook of his neck, her hair spilled over his shoulder and wrist, redolent of tranquil, delicate fragrance.
In slumber, his lashes trembled once as his fingertips stirred, tangling into a lock of her hair to clasp gently.
Outside the window, bursts of fiery flowers rained down crackling embers between the gauzy curtains.
After a long while, once his heartbeat steadied, she emerged from beneath the blankets and carefully tucked them snug around him once more. Half obscured in wavering candlelight, he seemed sunk deeply into a bed of golden sands, tranquil as the desert night.
Pushing the window open, she perched on its ledge and looked downward as he often did.
With night fallen deep, the alley lights had all been doused. Gazing into the distance, one could just glimpse the corner wine house down the street – their master’s business, marked by a swaying spring banner over the entrance, fluttering noisily in the wind.
A sudden realization jolted her. From this vantage point up in the garret, the unique angle perfectly framed one corner of the winery’s rear courtyard.
It was where she often practiced her spearplay.
Her eyes shivered faintly as she turned back to look at the figure on the bed, finally understanding why he had chosen this location for the garret retreat.
During their days apart, the youth must have often sat by this window, silently gazing out at the little girl frolicking energetically down in the yard.
She was often scolded by their master, and often praised. When free, she would leap up into the pagoda tree branches, stretching out lazily with eyes shut to bask for a spell.
That was how he had watched her, eyes downcast.
As the warm winds blew past, dappling the tree’s shadow, the long afternoon hours flowed by.
The youth watched her thus for years from this spot.
He never met her even once, only standing vigil because his lifetime was far too short while her whole life still stretched long ahead.
He simply hadn’t the time to do everything – to promise, to accompany, only view from afar.
Then leave noiselessly.
As if he had never existed at all.
Like fireworks.
“Xie Kang,” she uttered softly. “I will keep you here.”
Rising to her feet, she gazed down at the bedridden figure. Whenever the occasional firework flashed brightly, fleeting radiance rippled over him – as ephemeral as a glimmer wisp, as if it would vanish at any moment.
She bent down slightly over him, leaning in to gently brush her lips to his forehead.
A feather-light kiss.
Like a seal.
Fixing him in place.
When Xie Wuyang awoke, it was to the resounding cracks of fireworks bursting in the air, noisy and clamorous.
He blinked blearily up at the red-tinged bed canopy, flames from outside dancing over the gauze. A thick fur blanket tucked him in snugly, the glowing braziers at his bedside emitting a comfortable heat, tiny sparks occasionally popping out.
He gave a few low coughs and slowly levered himself up against the headboard, resting limply.
Pale dawn edged into the window outside hinting at daybreak – the first sunrise marking the new year.
And his very last new year.
He turned to see prepared tea steeping beside a small portable stove on the bedside table, still hot. Waiting until he finally mustered some strength, he reached for the cup and steadily drank it all.
Wrapping a thick cloak about himself, he then made his way gingerly down the stairs to slip into the carriage waiting outside.
He shut his eyes, lightly panting as he reclined weakly against the carriage wall. Someone had tucked a warmed brazier into his hands. Through barely parted lids, he glanced sideways and asked his companion tonelessly, “What happened afterward?”
Lu Shiyi hesitated briefly. “Your Highness, how much do you still recall?”
“Not too clearly,” he rasped, struggling to remember. “I drank until drunk?”
Lu Shiyi observed him uncertainly for a moment. Xie Wuyang controlled his labored breathing, eyes drifting shut once more as impassiveness settled over his features, betraying nothing.
“The last time you got drunk, you also woke up right here with no clue,” he murmured finally. “…As if it were a dream.”
Lu Shiyi pondered briefly before deciding to speak. “Last eve during the hour of the rooster, Your Highness and Young Master Jiang had new year’s eve dinner together at Chang Le Inn. After midnight, you watched the fireworks and ritual masked dances.”
“Your Highness was…” He faltered briefly. ” Extremely delighted.”
“I see.” Xie Wuyang kept his eyes closed, a faint smile touching his lips at the news. “And was she happy?”
“Very much so,” Lu Shiyi nodded.
“That’s good then,” murmured Xie Wuyang. “Back to the Eastern Palace.”
After Lu Shiyi leapt down to take the driver’s seat outside, a soft call from within gave him pause. “Are you all hiding something from me?”
Lu Shiyi’s movements hitched.
“It’s like everyone is collectively keeping me in the dark.” The lonely query echoed from inside.
“Your Highness,” Lu Shiyi responded gently. “Do not dwell on unnecessary thoughts.”
“Very well,” came the weary reply as he slumped against the wall once more. “I’ll sleep some more… Wake me when we’ve arrived.”
The carriage wheels slowly crunched through the snow-blanketed road, winding through the secluded imperial hunting grounds before rolling to a stop beside the lotus pond in the Eastern Palace. Its surface was sealed beneath a layer of thin ice and light powder, a few frolicking birds leaving a trail of dainty prints in the snow.
Having changed into red gauze robes with a white fox fur draped over them, Xie Wuyang clutched a silver leaf hand-warmer and strode alone slowly through the snowscape, each movement clearly taxing.
Nearing the palace entrance, he froze abruptly in surprise at the sight.
Amidst the swirling flakes, warm illumination festooned the entire eave. Clad in crimson palace attire, a girl stood under the glowing snow lantern she held aloft at the carved and gilded door. Bathed in the radiant glow, her brilliance and grace seemed concentrated into a beam of descending dawn piercing through the clouds.
“You’ve returned?” She questioned.
“I was…” He faltered, wracking his mind for an excuse about the late hour.
“Delayed by the heavy snow on the road back from Prince Wen’s estate to palace?” She smoothly finished for him. “That was Housekeeper Gu’s report.”
“Mm,” he hastily tacked on, “I accidentally dozed off along the way.”
His gaze dropped, carefully gauging her reaction. She gave an indifferent hum of acceptance and wordlessly reached out to grasp his sleeve, pulling him toward the hall.
He kept his eyes lowered, noticing a silk flower ornament amidst her coiffed hair – unrelated to typical palace styles, fiery red and fluttering lightly as if a vivid butterfly alit upon black tresses.
“My lady,” he ventured awkwardly. “You have a hairpin flower.”
“Oh?” She didn’t even turn around. “A gift from someone.”
“From whom?” He pursued softly but doggedly.
“A friend.”
“What friend?” He persisted.
“My best friend.”
He paused blankly for a beat, tilting his head as if struck by a realization.
Then the faintest hint of a smile ghosted fleetingly over his lips before he schooled his expression once more.
“I see.”
Upon entering the bedchamber, he promptly doffed his outer robe and collapsed into bed, pulling up the covers to fall asleep.
“It’s beautiful,” a drowsy murmur echoed from under the blanket after some moments. “They must have excellent taste.”
The girl beside him huffed lightly and turned away. “It’s passable.”
Once certain he was deeply asleep, she muffled a snicker and whispered to him, “As if I’d praise you.”
Xie Wuyang slumbered until nearly noon when the faintest scent of broth roused him. Cracking open his eyes, he saw the girl seated at the table looking through documents while a bowl of clear noodles sat cooling beside the papers.
“My lady…” He called for her softly.
She glanced over upon catching his movement. “You’re awake? Have some noodles.” She helped prop him up against the cushions.
“Noodles…?” He asked groggily, confused.
“Long life noodles,” she explained, resting her chin on one palm as she regarded him. “Today’s your birthday. The palace suddenly received piles of gifts and well-wishes. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“Ah…” His voice remained blurred with lingering sleep. “I’d rather not celebrate it.”
After a brief pause, he added quietly, “Everyone is always too busy with obligations on this day each year. It was nice to pretend illness for an excuse to skip court and just sleep through it hastily.”
He kept his gaze lowered. “Many who wish me a happy birthday are actually hoping for my death.”
“Far more wish you well with utmost sincerity,” she insisted firmly. “Now eat up.”
Picking up a pair of chopsticks, she brought the noodles to his mouth. “May you live for a hundred years to come.”
He managed a wan smile. “You have my thanks, my lady.”
After swallowing a small bite, his expression shifted subtly as he struggled to keep it schooled. Raising his eyes with practiced restraint, he ventured, “My lady… you made this yourself?”
She narrowed her eyes warily. “What about it?”
“Nothing at all,” he replied meekly. “It’s delicious.”
Maintaining earnest eye contact, he added, “Would you like to try a mouthful yourself?”
The moment she sampled a bite, she choked, glaring at him. “Xie Wuyang! If it wasn’t to your taste, why not just directly say so?”
“It’s quite tasty,” he insisted mildly amidst soft laughter. “Unique blend of sweet and salty.”
With an otherworldly uniqueness that threatened to slay his very spirit.
Scowling, she shoved the bowl into his hands. “Then finish every last drop!”
He accepted the bowl with utmost graciousness and steadily ate until it was all gone. She gaped at him, astonished, while he lifted his head to give her a faint smile. “It suits my palate perfectly since you made it especially for me.”
She stuffed a piece of rock sugar into his mouth sullenly before collecting the bowl without another word. He gently sucked on it without complaint, keeping his head bowed, eyes half-lidded as if lost in thought.
“My lady…”
After some moments, he raised his head to meet her gaze. Carefully considering his tone, he ventured hesitantly…
“Are you hiding something from me…?”
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