Yuanyou first year, fifteenth day of the first month. The Lantern Festival.
In Song Dynasty, this was the brightest night of the year. I had long heard from Eunuch Li that the lantern festival in Dongjing would run from before New Year until the eighteenth of the first month, even the Son of Heaven joining the people in celebration. But when I truly stood before Funing Hall, watching those lanterns light up one by one, I was still stunned—not the lanterns of Dongjing city, but those of the imperial palace. Everywhere, overwhelming, from corridors to hall eaves, from palace paths to pond banks. Silk, gauze, paper, glass. Round, square, hexagonal, octagonal. Painted with flowers and birds, mountains and waters, figures and stories, lighting up one by one as if setting the entire night sky ablaze.
I stood at the Inner Kitchen entrance, watching for a while. Eunuch Li poked his head out from inside.
"Stop watching. You'll be busy tonight."
"Busy with what?"
"His Majesty will view lanterns at Funing Hall tonight. The Empress Dowager named you specifically to prepare several dishes of pastries to send."
"Me?"
"Mm. Said the osmanthus cakes you make are to His Majesty's taste."
I paused. The Empress Dowager knew I made osmanthus cakes?
"Stop dazing, hurry up."
I turned and entered the Inner Kitchen. Ingredients were already prepared on the stove—glutinous rice flour, white sugar, dried osmanthus, red bean paste, sesame filling. Eunuch Li arranged them one by one, then moved a stool to sit at the door, holding tea, watching me.
"Eunuch Li, how did the Empress Dowager know I made osmanthus cakes?"
"You think there's anything in this palace the Empress Dowager doesn't know?"
My hands paused in their work. "Then... what else does she know?"
"Knows you run to the Imperial Garden every day. Knows His Majesty drinks your porridge every day. Knows about that jade you gave." He sipped his tea. "But the Empress Dowager said nothing else. Only said tonight she wants you to make pastries."
I lowered my head, continued kneading dough. The Empress Dowager knew. Knew everything. But said nothing else.
Dough kneaded. I pinched off small pieces, wrapped them with filling, shaped them like flowers. Osmanthus cakes, red bean cakes, sesame balls, arranged one by one in the steamer. When pinching the last one, I hesitated, shaping it into a small human form—round head, tiny body, mouth turned up in a smile. Eunuch Li saw, said nothing.
Steamed. I packed them into the food box, walked toward Funing Hall.
Funing Hall was hung with lanterns. Several times more than daytime, one pressed against another, illuminating the entire square before the hall bright as day. Several tables were placed at the hall entrance, bearing fruits and wine. The Empress Dowager sat in the center, beside her several imperial concubines and ministers' wives. Zhao Xu sat beside the Empress Dowager, wearing new clothes, hair combed neatly.
I carried the food box forward, stopping below the steps. A eunuch took the box, carried it up. The Empress Dowager glanced at it, picked up an osmanthus cake, took a bite. I stood below, palms sweating.
"Made by that palace maid?" the Empress Dowager asked.
"Yes," the eunuch answered.
The Empress Dowager looked at me again. Across the entire flight of steps, across the hall full of lanterns, I couldn't see her expression. But she said nothing more. Simply finished the remaining osmanthus cake.
Zhao Xu sat beside her, looking toward me the whole time. When the Empress Dowager turned to speak with an imperial concubine, he made a gesture at me—thumbs up, then bent. I paused. That was the gesture he made after winning the snowball fight. He remembered.
I suppressed a smile, retreated to one side.
The lantern festival began. Several palace maids emerged from the hall carrying lanterns, hanging them one by one beneath the corridor. Rabbit lanterns, lotus lanterns, carp lanterns, and one dragon lantern, long, requiring two people to carry. When the lanterns lit up, the entire corridor became red, yellow, pink, purple, like a flowing river. The palace lanterns were paper, silk, and several of glass, refracting seven-colored light in the flames, dyeing the palace maids' clothes into rainbow hues. I suddenly remembered Eunuch Li saying that in Dongjing city's lantern market, there were lanterns with ivory and tortoiseshell frames, some lanterns inlaid with pearls that when turned made the entire city flow with light. The royal family did not favor extravagance, but today was the Lantern Festival, and the Empress Dowager had specially permitted several treasured old lanterns to be taken from the storerooms. That dragon lantern's scales were covered with gold leaf applied piece by piece, fluttering slightly in the night wind like living things.
Zhao Xu rose from his seat, walked beneath the corridor. He looked up at that dragon lantern for a long time. The dragon's eyes were made of glass, flashing in the flames. He reached out—this time without standing on tiptoe—his hand reached the dragon's tail. He paused, turned to look at me. Across the hall full of lanterns, I couldn't see his expression, but I saw his fingers clutching that tassel, clutching tightly. He had grown. When had it happened? I didn't know. But his hand could now reach what he couldn't reach before.
The Empress Dowager saw, called gently: "Your Majesty." Zhao Xu withdrew his hand, turned and walked back to the Empress Dowager's side, sitting respectfully. The Empress Dowager said nothing more, only looked at him, a look containing something I couldn't understand. An imperial concubine beside her smiled: "Your Majesty has grown taller." The Empress Dowager nodded.
After the lantern festival dispersed, I returned to the Inner Kitchen. Several steamed pastries remained on the stove, covered with a bowl. I lifted the bowl, glanced—that human-shaped osmanthus cake was still there, mouth turned up, smiling. I took it out, placed it in my palm. Thought a moment, then pulled a note from my sleeve, writing:
"Your Majesty, were tonight's lanterns beautiful? This servant hung one in the Imperial Garden too. If you have time, you may come see."
After writing, I folded the note, tucked it beneath the human-shaped osmanthus cake. Then carried the plate to Funing Hall entrance, handing it to the night-watch eunuch.
"What is this?"
"For His Majesty. His Majesty didn't eat enough osmanthus cakes tonight."
The eunuch hesitated, then took it.
I returned to the Inner Kitchen, moved a small stool, sat at the door to wait. There was indeed one lantern hung in the Imperial Garden—secretly hung by me during the day. Made with bamboo strips, covered with a layer of thin gauze, painted with a bowl of egg-fried rice. Painted crookedly, but recognizable as egg-fried rice.
Waited about a quarter-hour before footsteps came from the end of the palace path. Zhao Xu ran over, panting, the eunuch behind unable to catch up. He ran to me, stopped, bent over catching his breath. I stood up; he straightened too. Moonlight fell on his face, and I saw him clearly—
He had grown taller. Not a little, but a lot. He stood there; I needed to look slightly up to see his eyes. He was taller than me.
When had it happened? I didn't know. Perhaps these past few months. Perhaps that winter, after he recovered from illness, his bones like bamboo in spring, secretly shooting up beneath the snow.
"You've grown taller," I said.
He looked down at himself, then up at me. "Have I?"
"Mm. Taller than me."
He paused, then smiled. Smiled until his eyes curved, mouth corners rising high. When he smiled, the childish innocence remained between his brows, but his jawline already had the clear outline of youth.
"Then I'll be much taller than you later."
"Yes."
"When?"
"Already growing."
He lowered his head, looked at the height difference between us, then raised his head again. His eyes were bright, reflecting moonlight, reflecting me.
"The lantern?"
"In the Imperial Garden."
"Take me."
I carried the lantern, walking ahead. He followed behind. I suddenly noticed his shadow was longer than mine. Two shadows fell on the snow, one long, one short, slowly moving forward.
That lantern in the Imperial Garden was still lit. The egg-fried rice on the gauze swayed in the firelight, rice painted too large, eggs painted too broken, salted pork cubes painted like ants. He stood before the lantern, looking for a long time. Light shone from below onto his face, stretching his chin's shadow long.
"You painted this?"
"Mm."
"Painted what?"
"Egg-fried rice."
"Doesn't look like it."
"I know."
He turned to look at me. He stood beside the lantern; I stood opposite him. He was taller than me. This fact made me somewhat dazed. Nine months ago in the Imperial Garden, he was still that child crouching on the ground watching ants. Now he stood before me, and I needed to look up at him.
"But you painted it," he said.
"Mm. Painted it."
He smiled. Smiled until he buried his face in his scarf, revealing only his eyes. Moonlight fell on his face, bright. His eyes were still those eyes, but the distance between his brows seemed wider, no longer that round, soft outline of a child, but with the angles of youth.
"A Heng."
"Mm?"
"Tonight's lanterns were all beautiful. But this one is the most beautiful."
"Why?"
"Because you painted it."
I paused. Then smiled. "Then next year I'll paint for you again."
"What will you paint next year?"
"Whatever you want painted."
"Then paint osmanthus sugar porridge."
"Good."
"And paint a snowman."
"Good."
"And paint..." he thought, "and paint you."
I said nothing. Wind poured in from the end of the palace path, cool, but my face was warm.
"A Heng."
"Mm?"
"Let's release lanterns."
"Release lanterns?"
"Mm. Just now at Funing Hall, the Empress Dowager had people release river lanterns in the pool. Said it's for making wishes. Make a wish, the lantern floats far away, the wish can come true."
He pulled two small lanterns from his sleeve. Made of silk, only fist-sized, shaped like lotus flowers. One pink, one pale yellow. Petals pinched crookedly, some places with too much glue, some places not glued, revealing bamboo strips inside. But clearly made over a long time.
"Where from?"
"I made them. Secretly made." He handed me the pink one, "This one is yours."
I took it. The lantern was light, lying in my palm like a dream not yet grown. His fingers still had several faint red marks—scratches from bamboo strips.
"Your hand—"
"Nothing." He withdrew his hand into his sleeve, "Hurry and release. The water in the pool is going to freeze."
In a corner of the Imperial Garden was a small pool, its surface covered with thin ice in winter. Several stones beside the pool, I crouched down, using a branch to break open a small piece of ice. Water revealed, dark, reflecting the moon in the sky. He crouched beside me, knees nearly touching my knees. When he crouched down, he was still a bit taller than me. His shoulders were wider than mine, though still thin, but no longer that kind of thin that would blow over in one gust.
"Did you make your wish?" he asked.
"Not yet. You first."
He closed his eyes. Moonlight fell on his face, lashes trembling slightly. He wished for a long time, so long I thought he had fallen asleep. Then he opened his eyes, gently placing that pale yellow lantern on the water's surface. The lantern swayed, steadied, slowly floating forward.
"Your turn."
I closed my eyes. What wish to make? Wish him peace and safety. Wish him health. Wish him to live past twenty-five. Too many, the lantern couldn't hold them all.
I opened my eyes, placed that pink lantern on the water's surface. Two lanterns floated one after another, pink in front, pale yellow behind, swaying unsteadily, like two clumsy butterflies. He crouched beside, watching those two lanterns, lips moving slightly. I couldn't hear what he was saying. Perhaps making a second wish. Perhaps simply telling the lantern, float farther, farther still.
"Where do you think they'll float to?" he asked.
"Don't know. Perhaps to the moat, perhaps to the Bian River, perhaps all the way to the sea."
"Is the sea far?"
"Very far."
"Then can my wish float that far?"
"Yes. As long as it's yours."
He said nothing. The two lanterns floated far away, smaller and smaller, finally becoming two bright little points, melting into the night. He stood up; I stood up too. He stood before me, moonlight shining from behind him, casting his shadow upon me. He was taller than me. This fact I might need a long time to get used to.
"A Heng."
"Mm?"
"What did you wish for?"
"Can't say. If said, it won't come true."
He frowned slightly. "Then I won't ask."
"What did you wish for?"
"Won't say either. If said, it won't come true."
I smiled. He smiled too. Moonlight fell on the water's surface, sparkling. The ice had already refrozen over the small piece I had broken, thin layer reflecting the moon in the sky.
"Should return now," he said, this time him saying it.
"Good."
He turned and left. Took a few steps, then turned back. Moonlight shone on him; he stood there, no longer needing to look up at me. His eyes reflected moonlight, reflected me.
"A Heng."
"Mm?"
"Next Lantern Festival, make lanterns for me again."
"Good."
"Every year."
"Good."
He smiled. Then turned and ran. Coat hem trampling through snow, leaving a trail of crooked footprints. Moonlight chased his retreating figure, stretching that shadow very long. Longer than mine. Already longer than mine.
I crouched where I stood, watching his footprints. Snow began falling again, fine flakes landing on those footprints, slowly filling them in. But I knew he had been here. I knew he would come again next year. The year after too. The year after that too. He would grow taller year by year, until I could no longer catch up to his shadow.
That night, I wrote today's story into a note, tucked it beneath my pillow. After finishing, I took it out again, adding a line on the back:
"Next Lantern Festival, paint a bowl of osmanthus sugar porridge. Paint a snowman. Then paint me. Paint it prettier. Doesn't matter if it doesn't look like it."
Characters written crookedly. But I didn't change them.
Moon outside the window. Round, bright, like a lantern hung in the sky. I closed my eyes, remembering what he said—"This one is the most beautiful. Because you painted it."
Next year, he will be taller. The year after, taller still. The year after that, tall enough to need to look down at me. But it doesn't matter. Lanterns are still being made. Porridge is still being brewed. Wishes are still being made.
Float farther. Farther still. All the way to the sea.
[End of Chapter 14]