“…and so the deputy judge of the Dali Temple said this matter must be reported to His Imperial Uncle for a more thorough deliberation.” Baozi was all animated, his face flushed with excitement.
It was the first time he'd stood and spoken before so many people—and he'd gotten what he wanted. The proud light in his eyes brightened the whole room.
“You were brilliant, Baozi.” Yi Qing cupped his face and kissed him. “I’ll make you braised pork tonight.”
“You, woman,” Zi Su jabbed, eyeing her uncombed hair. “You promised to help and slept in till now.”
“Baozi already helped and sorted everything out, didn’t he?” Yi Qing cried. “Tell us—weren’t you smug as could be? Didn’t anyone ask whose son you are?”
Xiao Tian watched Yi Qing’s childish triumph and turned away to hide an involuntary smile.
“Of course they asked,” Baozi announced. “I told them—son of the late great general, a junwang.” He puffed up at the title.
Zi Su’s voice shifted, sly and small. “Too bad nobody asked who his mother is.”
Yi Qing fell silent.
She’d forgotten; now that Baozi had a father with a famous name, her own worth seemed to shrink in other people’s eyes. In the village everyone knew her—here she had become invisible.
She cleared her throat. “How’s my clinic coming along?”
“Almost finished. I had the astrologers at the imperial observatory pick an auspicious date. None this month—best wait until next month,” Xiao Tian said.
A sensible, thorough man. Yi Qing snorted inwardly at the superstition but couldn’t help feeling pleased—this was the kind of meticulousness she’d liked in a man.
In a good mood she spent the afternoon cooking. At noon she served a huge basin of braised pork belly that made Xiao Tian, Baozi, and Zi Su all dig in with relish. They ate bowl after bowl until the rice tub was nearly empty and the sauce wiped clean.
While Xiao Tian and Baozi went to wash the bowls, Yi Qing teased, “Zi Su, I’m starting to think you and Xiao Tian make a good match.”
“Why’s that?” Zi Su narrowed her eyes. “Want to give him to me? I wouldn’t mind.”
“Ptooey,” Yi Qing feigned outrage. “I knew you had designs. Stay away from my man.”
“Don’t worry—I’d never want a man whose backside you’ve seen!” Zi Su shot back.
Xiao Tian pushed back the door to bring in fruit and caught that line hanging in the air. His hand froze, his face flushing a violent purple.
This woman—she’d actually told someone about that.
Yi Qing watched him storm out and slapped her palm over her forehead. “I just saved that man’s skin and this is how you repay me!”
“Don’t drag me into this. I have nothing to do with Prince Zhen, and anyway it was Baozi who saved him—don’t take credit,” Zi Su said.
“He’s going to be furious,” Yi Qing muttered, leaning on the table and picking at the wooden puppet Xiao Tian had given her. “I didn’t mean it. You were the one who got excited—”
The day had been quiet; Madam Fan and Ranran hadn’t visited for a few days. Yi Qing wondered why, but the thought left her mind when a maid’s shrill voice came from the courtyard.
“Madam! Madam! An imperial edict!”
An edict? Yi Qing sat bolt upright, surprised and secretly delighted—was the emperor about to reward her for raising Baozi well? An imperial reward that came so quickly felt almost embarrassing, but if anything was going to come, she’d rather have coin than trinkets. She hurried to change into a cleaner gown.
The one who brought the edict was Dezi, one of the emperor’s favored attendants. Yi Qing greeted him with a smile and watched the little setup of incense and a small table. “Is this all right? Shall I fetch Baozi?”
Dezi looked like he had to choose his words. Clearing his throat, he said, “No need. His Majesty specially said this is for you.”
Yi Qing blinked.
She knelt obediently on the cushion. Dezi unfolded the scroll and read in that high, officious voice: “By Heaven’s mandate, the Emperor decrees—Xiao Tian has merited by protecting the imperial person. He is to be rewarded with two beauties. So it is decreed—”
Yi Qing’s expression must have been a question mark incarnate.
Xiao Tian merited? When? The old wound on his side was barely visible. The emperor’s memory was annoyingly long. And two beauties—what was the emperor trying to do, grease someone’s ears at her expense?
She swore silently the emperor had malicious intent. Of course the wording made it sound like this edict was addressed to her: “This is for you, Yi Qing.” As if to say, “Look what I gave your man—deal with it.”
What had she ever done to offend such a shameless monarch?
“Madam, receive the edict,” Dezi prompted.
Yi Qing’s mind screamed rebellion, but her body obeyed the ritual. “I accept the edict.”
Dezi added, “His Majesty asks that you perform the ceremony of gratitude.”
Yi Qing ground her teeth. This life was impossible—if the emperor wanted to make her choke, he was doing a fine job. Through clenched teeth she intoned the formal phrase, “We thank His Majesty for his gracious favor!”
Dezi pressed the scroll into her hand. Then, with a polite clap of his palms, he signaled.
Two graceful girls glided in and bowed with practiced submissiveness.
“Your handmaiden Hua Chun pays respects, and Your handmaiden Zhixia pays respects,” they said softly.
Yi Qing narrowed her eyes at them. “Rise.”
They were truly beautiful—no more than fourteen or fifteen, bright-eyed, flawless skin like porcelain. Her gaze lingered despite herself. The emperor surely spared no expense when he wanted to irritate her.
She tried to swallow the indignation. “Go and fetch Xiao Tian.”
A moment later Xiao Tian came in, Baozi’s small hand in his. Both maidens couldn't help stealing looks at him.
Yi Qing fixed them with a cool glance. “The beauties the emperor bestowed on you—take them back to wherever you keep them. Baozi, come study with your mother.”
Xiao Tian’s brow tightened. “This is absurd.”
A little pleased, Yi Qing thought, at least he understood. She would not stand for him cavorting with beauties under their roof.
“You can’t even read—what will you teach him?” Xiao Tian shot back, voice sharp.
Yi Qing bristled. He accused her of making a fuss—was that gratitude? She opened her mouth, ready to rip into him, but then he spoke to the two girls instead.
“I don’t want them. Girls, go back to where you came from.”
The two girls’ hopeful faces crumpled. They had come full of dreams for a new life, only to have them dashed. They sank to their knees and began to plead.