This was the second dinner in a row that Sou Hei had dined with a woman who was neither his wife, mother, nor sister. He could not say he found this supper any less unsettling than the first, though for different reasons.
He sat across from the Emperor's sister, a young, frivolous woman, which was what he'd expected the Emperor's concubine to be. She wore her hair down, in two braids, as though affecting the image of a poor peasant girl rather than who she really was: the younger sister of a man who had the power to destroy lives and raise armies in the snap of a finger.
Mei Hua simpered and smiled and ate with perfect table manners. She laughed politely at his poor jokes, wore a pretty blush when he smiled back at her in a. Farcical attempt at politeness, and an empty-headed glaze came over her big, brown eyes as he mentioned anything in the vague direction of troop movements or royal budgets.
In other words, dining with him grated on his nerves and made him long for the more engaging company, even if she was far more combative than Nai. Or whatever her true name was.
"I wanted to ask you a favour," Mei Hua said.
His shoulders slumped in relief. Finally, she was here to reveal her true intentions. Sou Hei spoke in the practiced, mincing tones of courtiers, the one that was honed to a fine point, a sword sharpened into a needle. "It would be a great privilege to grant the favour of the Emperor's sister."
"I wish to be given access to my brother," she said. "I would like an audience with him, to convince him not go through with my betrothal."
"Your betrothal?" His brows shot toward his hairline before he could stop himself. So he and Nai might have more in common than he had previously thought.
"Yes. He has betrothed me to a certain general, who is nearing his fifties, already has two wives, and has four children who are my age." Her mouth turned down in a pout that might have melted weaker men's constitutions. "Surely, you can understand the repugnance of such a match."
"Certainly." He imagined the girl before him arranged to such a boorish oaf as she had described, and did not envision a happy marriage for either of them. "That would be an insult to your imperial dignity."
She smiled again, but it was less simpering and thinner, like her patience was wearing out. "Exactly. I am so grateful you understand my situation."
"That, I do. But, I am afraid that granting you an audience with the Emperor is not in my control. The Emperor has barred all visitors from entering his presence, and even his sister, I am afraid, cannot breach that barrier."
"You are effectively behaving as the Emperor, and you cannot fulfill this one simple request?" Her voice was high enough to break glass.
"I am not the Emperor." His own temper, which had been scraped thin by the gruelling ride to the icy northern capital, flared now. "I was merely summoned by his council to improve the state of the Middle Kingdom. The state of your marital affairs is beneath my notice. I merely accepted your invitation to dine to avoid offending your brother, the Emperor, but now I see that he left you here for a reason."
There was no hurt or pain in her eyes. Not even a sliver of disappointment. No, just dark shadows, staring at him, before she jerked her head back down toward her drunken chicken and rice. She shovelled a few angry bites into her mouth before swallowing, then gestured toward the door for the guard to come. "Escort the Advisor to his own rooms, please."
He stood. She was a young, emotional, and silly girl. Time would teach her.
Yet he could not shake the feeling, as he walked away, that the haunted look in her eyes suggested more than mere frivolity and vapidity. Looking at her gave him the sense she had been through more than most young women in her age and position.
Now, if he could know what that was, he might understand exactly why he felt he had just made a fatal enemy.

***

Jin Qian put his hands on his knees, woozy as a wave of lightheadedness rushed over him. He ought to have been used to flying on the back of the dragon by now, but it was far different when Huang Long made loops and tortuous twists through the clouds that made his stomach churn.
The mere thought of getting back into the air made him dizzy. He leaned against a nearby weeping willow, the bark of the tree rough against his nape. He was sure his father was somewhere nearby, making snide remarks about his son's weakness, but he didn't care. He was so tired even his bones felt like tofu. And not the firm kind, either. More like the soft, jiggly kind used for tofu dessert.
Taking slow, deep breaths, he slid to the base of the tree and sat down, his legs splaying out as he examined his surroundings through the weeping willow's branches. Bringing his knees to his chest, Jin Qian spied a river winding through the forest. They had landed in a secluded valley, dense with copses of trees, and the thought of bathing was nearly irresistible to him.
When he had regained his strength, he stood, stretching out his back, and spied his father curled up, asleep on a bedroll, while the dragon was nowhere to be seen. He tilted his head back, craning his neck to scan the skies for any sign of him, and spotted him circling overhead. His shoulders sagged with relief as he made his way over to the river.
Just as he had finished splashing cool water onto his face and neck, he heard a voice.
"What are you doing here?" A feminine voice asked, her tone accusing.
He turned to face her, and saw a slight young woman, around his age, standing with a laundry basket on her hip and a washboard in hand. She clearly lived nearby, and had come to the river to do chores. Her tone rankled him, however, and he was unaccustomed to being treated like a suspicious outsider. In the army, he had been, if not respected, at least not treated with wariness and dislike. At home, before he'd enlisted or rather, been drafted into the military to protect their borders against Mongolian invasions, he had been favoured as the only son.
Now, he was a vagabond, someone to guard against and worry about. The change stung something in him.
"I am but a weary traveller, here with my father," He pointed in his father's direction. "We are on a long journey."
That much was true. Telling her about the dragon might scare her away, or worse, make her think he was crazy. Sometimes, he thought he might be.
Her expression softened somewhat. "Where do you come from?"
"Sichuan," he said, because it was where he had called home. But he had in fact come from the north, near Peking, when he had deserted the army.
She nodded, seeming to accept his answer as somewhat satisfactory. "There is room in the inn. My father runs it. Tell him I sent you and he will give you a lower rate and a free meal."
"Thank you," he said, touched by her kindness. "But to who do I owe this favour?"
"My name is Li Mei Ling," she said, spreading a sheet on the stones and beginning to scrub at a particularly nasty stain. "The inn is beside the cherry blossom tree. You can't miss it if you start walking west."
The thought of a soft bed and a bath he didn't have to share with the fishes was euphoric. "I thank you, Li xiaojie›."
She nodded in response, clearly hoping to get on with her task without being disturbed. Seeing that his father was still snoring away, looking far more vulnerable in sleep than he was awake, but that the dragon would still watch over him, Jin Qian made his way into town, toward the inn.
After a walk that sent jolting pains through his muscles, he was surprised at how much his legs ached from gripping onto the sides of the dragon, especially his thighs, he made it to the inn, as Li Mei Ling had described. He introduced himself to the innkeeper, whose face brightened at the mention of his daughter, and who proceeded to show Jin Qian to what he said was their most luxurious room. Even the Emperor himself had apparently once stayed there.
As he sat on the small cot and noticed the pervasive smell of spilled baijiu, he doubted that was the case, but it was a room with four walls and a bed, so he could not be too discriminate in his choice of temporary residence.