Ahmad woke the prince gently. The sun had not yet risen, but Ming preferred to start his day early, flipping through the scrolls his brothers often sent to ask for help with their studies. He set up a table in the outdoor area, ordered a few sweets, and waited. The sun had barely crested the horizon when three young adolescents entered his pavilion, laughing and walking quickly toward their older brother.
The group consisted of one boy and two Yin girls, for whom the brilliant Prince of Jade held responsibility regarding their education.
"Brother Ming! Brother Ming!" cried the boy, dressed in elegant blue robes with his hair adorned with various accessories.
"Dear Zhang, don't run; you are too finely dressed for such exertion. Is Mother well?" Ming asked. These children were not his blood siblings, but children of minor concubines cared for by Liam, who treated them all with a mother's love.
"Empress Liam is very healthy, Brother," laughed the graceful girl who entered slowly behind the others, wearing light blue silks. "She was assisting the concubines with palace matters, so we arrived early."
"Thank you, Mei Lin. As always, you are very succinct," Ming praised her, gently stroking the face of each sibling.
As they sat, he let out a soft sigh and waited for their questions. It was a light, instructive conversation. It was difficult to be Yin: they were expected to think, plan, and serve as capable advisors, all while maintaining perfect beauty. In the future, they would be given as prizes to those linked to the empire. The domestic scene looked like a living painting.
Perhaps recognizing this beauty, the Emperor did not announce his arrival. Ahmad had wanted to warn his master, but it was impossible to go against the most powerful man in the empire. And walking behind him, now formally dressed, was Prince Fhao.
Fhao was a tall man of strong build, his long hair tied back. His face lacked Ming's soft curves, possessing instead the sharp definition expected of men from distant lands, which highlighted his high cheekbones. His tanned skin made the Yin-xus sigh, imagining a man who spent his days riding under the sun to achieve such a charming complexion.
From the garden entrance, the Emperor watched his children having fun trying to sing the latest fashion among the nobles: Qu Poems. These were sung poems often featured in the intellectual gatherings of the Yin-xu. Ming was gently correcting his sister.
"No, no, Mei—you must speak like a beautiful little bird," Ming instructed. "Let us try one by Ma Zhiyuan. Pay attention to how I do it; first, I read the poem and identify the rhymes and the pauses. Understood?"
Withered vines, ancient trees, evening crows;A small bridge, flowing water, a cottage home;An ancient road, the west wind, a lean horse.The evening sun sinks in the west,And a heartbroken traveler is at the edge of the world.
Ming sang the verses in a sweet voice, guiding them toward the imagery the poet intended. When he finished, he was met with applause from his father, who stood smiling in his imperial robes. The children immediately stood and bowed, hands over their chests in the Mongol greeting.
"Pardon us for not noticing you, Esteemed Father. We were studying poetry," Ming explained with a small smile, which faltered slightly when he noticed Fhao standing behind the Emperor with a neutral, serious expression.
"Don't worry about me, my beloved son," the Emperor said. "Prince Fhao asked to speak with you in private, though I did not realize you and your siblings were in the middle of a lesson."
Mei Lin looked at the prince as her father spoke, then turned to her brother, looking slightly embarrassed. "Are you planning on courting my big brother, by any chance?"
Ming looked at Mei Lin. She was mixed-race like him—Han and Mongol—and a daring girl who wore Mongol accessories even in Han-style clothing. She was judging Fhao before he had even uttered a word. Ming found it dangerous for her to insult a prince, even if his father seemed amused.
"Mei Lin, let your brother be courted a little," the Emperor chuckled, enjoying the youthful energy. "One day he will leave home; who better than a prince from a friendly territory—young and strong? He said he loves intelligent boys, didn't you, young Fhao?"
"Well, I planned to get to know him better before courting him, Your Majesty," Fhao confessed, his expression unchanging. "The Prince of Jade is well known for his unique intelligence. I won't deny that I became interested in his skill when he prepared that banquet."
Mei Lin did not seem convinced, crossing her arms like the spoiled young woman she was. "Well, know that Brother Ming is Father's favorite. You will have to be a truly wealthy prince to win his hand." She gathered her scrolls and signaled to the others. "Come, siblings; let our brother win the young prince's heart. We will return later. By the way, Brother Ming, Mother thanked you for the apricots."
The youngsters departed, leaving only the Emperor, his guards, Fhao, and the two servants. Ming sighed in embarrassment and spoke to Ahmad in Arabic, asking him to bring sweets. The use of the language caught Fhao by surprise and made the Emperor swell with pride.
"Ming speaks the language of the merchants; his skill is invaluable for receiving diplomats," the Emperor joked. "Even his personal servant is a foreign scholar. Ahmad, don't worry—he's a Yin-xu too, you know?"
The Emperor eventually took his leave, allowing the young men and their servants to enjoy the chilly autumn morning. Once they were alone, the atmosphere grew tense. They sat facing each other in a garden where few flowers remained due to the season. Ming delicately served tea to the visitor, trying to process the situation. His father never allowed anyone to court him so openly.
"My father doesn't usually allow a Yang-Zhi so close to me," Ming commented, picking up a small sweet and eating it with practiced etiquette. "I imagine it surprised you."
"Well, our fathers were friends, and..." Fhao paused, taking a sip of tea without much ceremony. "My father passed away just over a year ago. I think this was done more for my late father than for me."
Ming looked up, his expression softening with sincere grief. "I am sorry about your father," he said. He knew how much he would suffer if he lost the Emperor. "I can lend you mine if you wish, though I think you've already noticed he loves to provoke his children."
The gentle humor caught Fhao off guard. He stared at the prince, expecting a rigid and cold posture, but instead receiving a warmth that matched the tea being served.