THE FIFTH DAY of the fifth month was the Dragon Boat Festival.
They had arrived in Daxing City, the new capital of the Sui dynasty established earlier that year. The roads were new, and the smell of freshly cut wood and stone still hung about many of the houses. Even the common folk moving into the city had a different air about them, as if they knew they were part of the shining dawn of a new and flourishing dynasty.
Looking out over the city from the Guanyin Terrace or the various towers of the city, one would find that the style and scale of Daxing—itself the result of expanding the city of Chang'an—was markedly different from the capitals of previous dynasties. Not only was it larger, but the palace walls were grander and the streets and markets arranged along crisp lines, the whole so crammed full of people that the city resembled the star-studded heavens. Poets of the future would describe the scene thusly: "the hundred households like a game of weiqi, the dozen streets as straight as a farmer's rows. In the distance, the officials' torches flicker; a constellation of flames above the palace gates."2
Sunset yielded to twilight, and the bustle of the city didn't slow. Some rushed home for dinner, while others changed into light clothes, carrying colorful silk pouches and holding evil-dispelling mugwort and calamus in hand, to view the city from the river boat cruises. Horse-drawn carriages rattled along the main thoroughfares, their perfumed curtains fluttering in the wind to reveal lavish clothing, high buns, and jade hairpins. Every carriage was heading southeast.
To the southeast lay the Qu Canal. It had been completed around the same time as the city and was designed to evoke an image of wind-ruffled lotuses dancing in the breeze. Water flowed into the city through freshly dug canals, while countless lotus blossoms dotted the pond around the garden's floating pavilion and wrapped the garden in their fragrance. Supposedly the emperor believed the Qu in Qu Canal, with its meaning of crooked, was inauspicious, so the Left Vice Director, Gao Jiong, had suggested he name the place Furong Garden instead, as a nod to the lotuses. The emperor gladly agreed, and the garden became an important landmark within the capital. Even the common folk of the city, who weren't permitted to enter the garden, could hike nearby and glimpse its scenery.
Today, however, these nobles weren't heading to Furong Garden. Their carriages converged on the nearby Qingli Garden, which sat snugly beside the banks of Qu River. There, County Duchess Yuwen, the beloved daughter of the emperor's eldest child, Princess Leping, was holding a birthday banquet, to which guests from all over had been invited.
Princess Leping's story was well known. She'd been empress and then empress dowager of the previous dynasty, then been demoted to princess when her father Yang Jian usurped the throne. What she'd gone through was nothing short of incredible. Unfortunately these momentous events had left Yuwen Eying, the daughter Princess Leping shared with the former emperor Yuwen Yun, in a rather awkward position.
Yuwen Eying was Yang Jian's granddaughter by blood, but he had also been the one to overthrow her father's Zhou dynasty. Whenever he saw her, he felt that he'd done the Yuwen Clan a great wrong, and so he remained distant from this granddaughter. Yet out of deference to Princess Leping, the emperor and empress never mistreated Yuwen Eying. Gifts flowed unceasingly from the palace, and though she didn't hold the official title of county duchess, she had all the authority of one, and thus everyone called her Duchess Yuwen.
The banquet today celebrated her fourteenth birthday, which happened to coincide with her move to the new capital. Princess Leping had chosen Qingli Garden as the venue for a grand celebration. Gifts from the ruling couple were already rolling in, while young nobles and children of the aristocracy streamed through the gates to attend the festivities, their carriages so numerous they encircled Qingli Garden like a tightly packed wall.
Two young women alighted from their carriage amid the bustling traffic at the gates. It could only be busier within. When they followed the servants inside, they saw that the pathways, trees, and rockeries had all been adorned with lanterns in the shape of lotuses. From a distance, it looked as though a thousand lanterns were suspended in the sky. Though the light of day had yet to completely fade, it already made for an awe-inspiring sight.
The two young ladies were Gao Ying, daughter of Left Vice Director Gao Jiong, and Yan Yun, whose father was also a high-ranking official of the court. They were used to fine things, but the scene that greeted them was enough to stun them. Their steps slowed.
"How many lanterns did it take to create such a magnificent sea of lights?" marveled Yan Yun.
The servant guiding them smiled. "Our lady ordered us to prepare a total of nine hundred eighty-nine lanterns to be hung all over the garden. She proclaimed she would throw a banquet with a thousand lanterns to ensure her guests enjoy themselves so greatly they forget to go home."
"Oh?" said Gao Ying in surprise. "I heard the sound of a pipa when we first entered. Now we're in the center of the garden, yet I can hear the pipa as clearly as before. How does the sound of the music travel so far?"
A note of pride crept into the servant's voice. "The musicians practiced for this especially. There are musicians all throughout the garden; they will play until the banquet ends. When they finish one song, they silently count the beats before starting the next one. That way, they can play in sync no matter how far they are from each other, and the guests can hear music wherever they go."
Gao Ying was stunned. "How long did it take them to practice for such a grand arrangement?"
The servant merely smiled.
Gao Ying and Yan Yun exchanged a glance. Both felt this was a bit too extravagant. But the banquet was in honor of the emperor's granddaughter and princess's daughter. It wasn't their place to comment.
The banquet was about to begin, and most guests had taken their seats. It was to be a casual evening affair filled with song and dance, with men and women seated together. Compared to state celebrations or official banquets that took place at the palace, protocol had been set aside here. Young men and women all loved entertainment, and the event was a good opportunity to make new friends.
Glancing around, Gao Ying and Yan Yun caught sight of the Prince of Jin, who had already taken his seat. Despite his princely title, he was only a few years older than his niece, Yuwen Eying. At the moment, he was sitting with his legs crossed, chatting away without any hauteur. But what truly caught their attention was the man he was talking to.
The guest across from him was dressed in black, his hair pulled back in a high knot. His face was breathtakingly handsome, and his gracefully curved eyes sparkled in the twilight, gleaming with the promise of a smile.
A beauty so resplendent it could fell jade mountains, a face so radiant it was as if he held the sun and moon in his arms.3 Yan Yun had always thought such descriptions mere hyperbole; only now had she seen for herself that such outstanding men really did exist. The Prince of Jin was young, handsome, and talented, but beside this other man, all his splendor drained away.
"Who is that?" Yan Yun stared vacantly at the man, only returning to her senses when Gao Ying tugged at her sleeve.
"Have you heard of the Jiejian Bureau?" Gao Ying whispered. "That man is their deputy chief, Feng Xiao."
Yan Yun gasped, then lowered her voice to match Gao Ying's. "So that's him!"
Residents of the capital were more sophisticated than the common folk of the countryside; even these young women had heard of the Jiejian and Zuoyue Bureaus. However, these two organizations reported directly to the emperor and empress, their doings inscrutable; it was difficult for strangers to approach their members.
Feng Xiao didn't isolate himself the way Cui Buqu did and wasn't so rare a sight at the banquets of the nobility. But Yan Yun's family had only recently returned to the capital. She'd never seen Feng Xiao before.
Gao Ying smiled. "Feng-langjun is extraordinarily handsome. I'm not surprised he snared you like that. The first time I saw him, I didn't fare much better myself. He's unmarried, but someone's already set her sights on him. They say Princess Lanling loves Feng-langjun fiercely and has asked the emperor to betroth her to him."
Yan Yun was a young lady who yearned for romance. She'd been clinging to a spark of hope, but the moment she heard Princess Lanling, it fizzled. "Truly?"
"That's just what I heard…"
As the young ladies whispered in each other's ears, the Prince of Jin and Feng Xiao were discussing something else entirely.
The Prince of Jin was no maiden living in ladies' chambers; he wasn't at all jealous that Feng Xiao was more handsome than him. On the contrary, he was very courteous toward this confidant of the emperor.
"Not only did you take back Qiemo using only your wits, you also won over the Western Khaganate and returned with their new khagan. These are grand achievements. His Majesty is overjoyed; he intends to bestow an even greater title and fiefdom upon both of you. I'm certain the decree will come down any minute—allow me to congratulate Marquis Feng in advance."
"The Prince of Jin is too kind," replied Feng Xiao. "I should also tell you that we met a monk named Yuxiu in Liugong City. Later, we discovered…"
Feng Xiao spoke in hushed tones, slowly explaining Yuxiu's background, as well as how he'd disguised himself and deceived everyone in order to sow chaos in the Western Khaganate.
Half a month had passed since their party had returned to the capital. After welcoming the khagan with a gracious reception, the emperor had provided him with a new escort home while Feng Xiao remained in the capital. He and Cui Buqu had already told the emperor everything about Yuxiu. There was no real need for Feng Xiao to repeat it all for the Prince of Jin, but Feng Xiao made a point of telling him some of the details anyway. The Prince of Jin listened attentively, without any sign of irritation or anger toward the messenger.
"I only knew that Yuxiu came from a prestigious sect and was a Buddhist master," he said apologetically. "He had a brilliant mind, so I took him as my advisor. I never dreamed he could be connected to an organization like the Thirteen Floors of Yunhai. Ah! I've already confessed my wrongdoings in this matter to my parents. It's all thanks to you and Marquis Cui that we were saved from this crisis. If not for you, I daren't imagine what catastrophe Yuxiu might have caused!"
He seemed perfectly sincere, with no hint that he held a grudge. Feng Xiao had hoped to test whether the prince had known the truth about Yuxiu from the start, but he saw now that it was fruitless. Whether the Prince of Jin had truly been ignorant of Yuxiu's intentions or merely kept the knowledge to himself, he'd clearly washed his hands of the matter.
Feng Xiao waved his fan and said breezily, "The Prince of Jin is a generous man. I confess I greatly admire His Highness."
The Prince of Jin smiled. "Marquis Feng is so understanding; I feel much more at ease. In truth, you shouldn't be sitting here talking to me. Someone else has been yearning for your company."
Feng Xiao affected surprise. "Duchess Yuwen? I've only met her ladyship once. We've never spoken before."
Seeing him act so oblivious, the Prince of Jin pointed at him and laughed. "His Majesty wishes the two of you to marry. Wu-jiejie is only too willing, but unfortunately, it seems you are not. Ah, but never mind. This is a matter between the two of you; I shouldn't interfere."
The corners of Feng Xiao's lips crooked up. He'd just opened his mouth to say more when his eye snagged on a new guest, and he changed the topic entirely, his tone gone light and teasing. "Today truly is a gathering of talents. Even a reclusive friend of mine has shown up!"
Nearby, Gao Ying and Yan Yun watched as another man was led in by a servant. It was the start of summer, and everyone was attired in light fabrics. Yet this man wore a high-collared cloak, as if it was a cold autumn day. Among all the glorious officials of the capital, he alone was different.