Chapter 44: Friends (Part One)

Old Master He sat by the river, fishing. He suddenly remembered—had he overslept and missed the housewarming banquet at the Protector Princess’s residence?

“Ah Xiang, I seem to recall I went to the princess’s manor that day. I even brought her a big fish,” Old Master He said, holding his fishing rod and smiling.

“Master, you didn’t go. When I reminded you that day, you fell back asleep,” Ah Xiang replied respectfully, bending over.

“So that’s how it is… In the end, I didn’t go. Then I must have dreamt of giving her a fish. Well, I suppose that counts for something…” Old Master He grumbled, scratching his white hair, his clouded eyes turning wistful. “How old am I now?”

“Um… Master, you’re nearly eighty-five this year.”

“Oh… Bring the wine! I want to drink till I’m drunk! Heh, can’t let the rest of my good days go to waste!”

“Yes, I’ll fetch it right away!”

Meanwhile, Wu Yueling was feeding snacks to her little white tiger and young lynx. These two rascals had been growing quickly lately, feasting mostly on slices of dried meat. Still, it was a good thing—they’d found the tiger in the snow and the lynx in its mother’s womb. That, too, was fate.

Outside the princess’s manor, two carriages stopped, and two young girls stepped down, neither more than thirteen or fourteen. One was dressed in a white ruqun, her short bangs just brushing her brows, tiptoeing as she walked, careful not to step on ants or any living creature beneath her feet.

The other wore a pink ruqun, her sleeves fluttering with her every step. She tugged the white-dressed girl by the hand, hurrying toward the swing in front of the princess’s manor. She’d seen it during her last visit, when the new princess was celebrated for her housewarming, but hadn’t paid it much mind then. Now, with the chance to examine it, her curiosity was piqued.

Two of the princess’s personal guards, stationed at the gate, glanced at each other when they saw the two finely dressed girls settle onto the swing. The guards walked toward them.

A few eunuchs waiting by the girls’ sides greeted the guards with polite bows—after all, the Protector Princess oversaw five thousand households, and as attendants, it was proper to show respect to her guards. Afterward, they announced the identities of the two young ladies.

The guards returned the bow, approached the swing, and knelt before the two princesses, speaking in unison, “Greetings, Your Highnesses. Please, each pay one coin for the swing…”

“Huh?” Princess Guangning turned her head, regarding the two soldiers, certain she hadn’t misheard. “Why do you charge a coin to use the swing?”

“Your Highness, our princess has decreed it so. Anyone wishing to use the swing must pay a coin.”

“How peculiar,” Princess Guangning said, waving her hand at her maid, who promptly paid two coins to the guards.

“How does this swing work?”

The guards exchanged glances, about to answer when their own princess’s voice reached them. They quickly rose, saluted the Protector Princess, and handed her the two copper coins.

“Go on, you may withdraw now,” Wu Yueling said, approaching the two princesses.

The girl in the pink ruqun was Princess Li Xianxian of Guangning, and the one in white was Princess Dugu Die’er of Jingle—both in their teens. They had met Wu Yueling at the housewarming banquet. Wu Yueling, a little older, had become their elder sister in spirit.

“Greetings, Sister Yueling!” Princess Guangning jumped off the swing, running over to wrap her arm around Wu Yueling’s.

“Mmm.”

As Li Xianxian drew near, Wu Yueling caught a faint scent of osmanthus on her. She greeted Dugu Die’er, who was approaching slowly, and the three fell into conversation.

Wu Yueling let them sit on the swing, giving it a gentle push from behind. Back and forth they swayed, delighted. Die’er, fearing her skirt would fly up, timidly slipped off the swing and watched the other two enjoy themselves, her eyes full of envy. Then, shyly, she sneaked another turn before hopping off again, blushing.

Wu Yueling learned that their purpose today was to taste her stir-fried dishes—the aroma had been so tempting that day they’d nearly drooled just watching.

“So, Die’er, you’ve been craving my food for days? You must have drooled buckets!” Wu Yueling teased Dugu Die’er after hearing Li Xianxian’s story.

Die’er, usually quiet, lifted her chin at the remark, cheeks flushing as she nodded, waiting until their eyes were elsewhere before sneaking a red date from her pouch and popping it into her mouth.

Inside the manor, Wu Yueling sent the cooks the two princesses had brought to report to the kitchen, then led her friends to Heavenly Gift Pavilion and its back garden, where chrysanthemums bloomed in profusion—gold, white, and red—competing in beauty under the autumn sun.

“Wow, Sister Yueling, your courtyard is filled with chrysanthemums! It’s beautiful!” Li Xianxian laughed, burying herself in the blossoms, inhaling their delicate fragrance and caressing the petals.

Dugu Die’er, too, stepped forward, squatting to cup a chrysanthemum in her hands, her small face lit with a sweet smile as she buried her nose in its scent, closing her eyes in bliss.

Wu Yueling didn’t disturb them, but sat quietly on a chair in the courtyard, watching as they wandered among the flowers.

“Princess,” said Ye, hurrying over after hearing she’d been summoned.

“Mmm,” Wu Yueling rose and walked to the newly built kitchen in the garden. The stove here was different—it had a chimney, and the smoke was easily drawn away. She had designed the kitchen just so.

“Xiao Ye, is that all right if I call you that?” Wu Yueling rolled up her sleeves, washing vegetables at Ye’s side.

“No problem, Princess. But these chores are for me—your status…”

“Oh, enough with that. You all treat me like a precious treasure,” Wu Yueling sighed, letting Xiaochun drag her to a chair. “I’ll do the cooking later.”

“Princess, those two are Princess Guangning and Princess Jingle, yes?” Xiaochun asked as she cleaned the chopping board and knife.

“They are, which is why I’m cooking myself.”

“When will we be able to master your cooking, Princess? Then you wouldn’t have to do it yourself,” Ye said, changing the water and continuing to wash vegetables.

“That’s a big question,” Wu Yueling replied, basking in the sun, watching Li Xianxian tuck a flower behind Dugu Die’er’s ear, quietly admiring their youthful beauty.

When the dishes were ready, Wu Yueling set aside a bowl of each for Ye and Xiaochun, telling them to eat there rather than return to the kitchen.

On the second floor of Heavenly Gift Pavilion, there was a small balcony—a spacious, sunlit, and airy design by Xu Zhucheng. After living here for so long, Wu Yueling couldn’t help but admire his skill as an imperial architect.

Dining here, one could enjoy the view of the chrysanthemums below and the distant gardens. But for Li Xianxian and Dugu Die’er, all their attention was on the steamed pork knuckle and the stir-fried pickled greens and eggs on the table.

At first, Dugu Die’er was awkward, stiffly perched on her chair, but as the aroma of the dishes reached her, she straightened her back, grabbed her chopsticks, and dug in, all shyness forgotten.

After the meal, Wu Yueling took her two friends on a tour of the residence, letting them play with the little lynx. The white tiger, less fond of strangers, avoided the visitors and returned to Wu Yueling’s side.

“Princess,” Yu Chao’en approached with several attendants, bowing to Wu Yueling. Seeing the other two princesses, he bowed again. “Greetings, Princess Guangning, Princess Jingle!”

Li Xianxian replied that they needn’t be so formal, then led Dugu Die’er aside. She recognized Yu Chao’en as High Chamberlain Gao’s former lackey.

“What is it?” Wu Yueling asked.

“Princess, Minister Li has sent a pair of jade chopsticks, hoping his three chefs may learn to cook under your tutelage here at the manor,” Yu Chao’en said, gesturing for the three to bow and presenting a fine wooden box.

“Chopsticks?” Wu Yueling opened the box, inspecting the exquisitely carved jade pair, the tips etched with fine grooves for gripping food—clearly a thoughtful design. She marveled at Li Linfu’s extravagance; to dine with jade chopsticks!

“Understood. Let them go to the kitchen and learn,” Wu Yueling said, studying the chopsticks again. An animal motif was carved along the shaft, and characters at the tips—perhaps “Green Bamboo of the Mountain.”

“That Li Linfu is trouble, Sister Yueling. Be careful,” Li Xianxian came over, eyeing the chopsticks in Wu Yueling’s hands.

“Jade chopsticks!” At that moment, Hua Chuer poked her head down from the ceiling beam, eyes gleaming at the sight of the chopsticks.

Wu Yueling looked up at her mischievous maid and tossed the jade chopsticks up. “Here, they’re yours! I wouldn’t be able to hide them from you anyway…”

Hua Chuer nimbly caught them, landed lightly, and held them close to her eyes, admiring the detailed carvings with a satisfied giggle. “Thank you, then—I won’t stand on ceremony.”

Wu Yueling turned to the surprised Li Xianxian and Die’er, smiling. “She’s my maid, no need to be startled. And you’re right—Li Linfu is not to be trusted. I’ll be careful. Come, let’s go swing.”

“Wait for me, little mistress! I want to swing too…” Hua Chuer quickly tucked away the chopsticks and followed.

That night, in a Manichaean tavern in the western market of Chang’an, the damp stone walls flickered in the dim candlelight, the air thick with the reek of rotting rice husks. The stench permeated the underground dungeon where people were held captive.

Occasionally, the overhead vent would bring in a breath of fresh air, but even then, it was tainted by the smell of dregs. The place was dank, sunless, and oppressive. Several girls in their early teens were imprisoned together, bought or stolen by the Manichaeans.

Whispers rose from the prison wall.

“What’s your name? I’m Lan’er. Trust me, everything will be all right. We’ll be sold to wealthy families and live as maids—a good life…” Her delicate face shone with kind reassurance as she smiled at the newcomer.

“I… I’m Li Shisan…” Li Shisan clung to the girl, sobbing softly with gratitude, finding a sliver of comfort.

Footsteps echoed in the gloom; the girls shrank away, hiding their frail bodies with straw, pressing themselves desperately into the corners. They knew—the devil had arrived.

The iron door screeched open, the harsh sound scraping along their nerves. A burly arm reached from the darkness, grabbing for a girl beside Li Shisan. In terror, the girl instinctively shoved Li Shisan toward the hand.

Li Shisan was wrenched from Lan’er’s embrace, and as the massive hand reached for her, fear and uncertainty seeped into her bones, paralyzing her with dread.

At that moment, Lan’er lunged forward, knocking Li Shisan out of the way, only to be seized herself and dragged from the cell in an instant.

The iron door slammed shut with a clang, releasing a short, mournful sigh.

Through her tears, Li Shisan stared into the gloomy cellar. Lan’er’s cries for mercy echoed, then faded to choking sobs, and finally to silence, broken only by the beastly howls of her tormentor.

In the darkness, Li Shisan saw only a face twisted in despair, with eyes as lifeless as cold ashes.

Suddenly, the trapdoor above creaked open. A pale-faced scholar entered, lantern in hand. The Manichaean thugs, who had been abusing the girls, hastily dressed and withdrew to the side.

Though he looked scholarly, Sikong Ming was a seasoned man of the underworld. He squinted at the thugs, shot a glance at the naked girl on the couch, then said nothing. He stepped to the cell, holding up his lantern to illuminate the imprisoned girls. His shadow stretched like a demon’s. He drew a steaming half-roasted chicken from his robe and, glancing at the dazed Li Shisan, asked blandly, “What’s your name?”

His voice faded quickly, and silence returned. Only then did Li Shisan, trembling, turn her frightened eyes to this strangely handsome man, catching a whiff of roast meat. She answered in a whisper, “Li… Li Shisan…”

“Mmm. Lady Gongsun of Pingkang Lane is taking on apprentices—offering a high price, ten gold coins. You’re lucky, little one…” Sikong Ming hauled her out, tucked the chicken away, grabbed the lantern, and headed for the stairs, muttering his feigned sighs to himself, leaving the wild laughter behind as he lowered and locked the trapdoor sealing this hell.