After both of the generals left, the Emperor looked out of the window and stood in silence. If anyone were to see him from behind, his tall posture looked somewhat slumped, his whole being carried an almost indiscernible trace of frailty.
Outside the window, there was a garden tastefully decorated with a few dwarf bamboo plants and a water feature over some larger stones arrangement. With the simplicity, one could clearly see that the stone water feature was the main focal point of the garden. Zhang SongWang liked the sound of water; at times it served as a guide for him to think, at times it made him relaxed. This time, it made him reminisced.
The room was off-limits to anyone else without his exclusive permission to enter; even then, he had to be inside as well. When he was in the room with whoever he summoned, there would be no servants to serve him. The servants had to wait outside, at a boundary behind that small water garden. More over, before he left the room and the garden on his own accord, no one were to disturb him or to give messages, even if they were from the Empress.
After a few moment had passed, the Emperor walked towards the table. He gave another glance at the map on it, let out a sigh, before bending slightly to reach something under the table. There was a secret compartment under the table that only he was aware of.
He took out another scroll and carefully untied the binding, before gently spreading it on top of the map on the table.
On the scroll was a single painting of a young woman. She had dark brown hair that was simply braided to one side, falling naturally to her right shoulder. Behind her right ear, there was a stalk of blue poppy affixed to her hair. The flower was rare in Da Lang, but they were in abundance in wider plains of the Northern wilderness.
However, what the painter seemed to have paid more attention to, was her eyes. The young woman had limpid, double-lidded eyes. Her nose was prominent, with a slightly higher bridge. Although her eyes gave her a very soft look, the painter emphasized the vibrancy in her gaze, making her expression enticing. The contradiction between her gentle features and the actual spirit conveyed was vividly portrayed. With her gaze directed towards the painter and a light quirk of her teasing smile, it seemed as though the painting would come alive anytime soon and start conversing.
Behind her, an open field of wild blue poppies served as background, extending towards the blurry mountains of blue and green.
Zhang SongWang traced his fingers gently over the young woman's lips, subconsciously returning the smile graced by her in the painting. This room was his only refuge, where he was able to see her again, although just through myriad of colors on a piece of paper. The scroll was a painting that he once drew himself, when he was in the Northern Plains escorting her to Da Lang under his protection. When he saw the smile on the picture, he was reminded that once in the past, this woman loved him too.
Perhaps, she had not hated him for bringing her to Da Lang. Perhaps, she had not died of loneliness and his lack of attention after he became the Monarch.
Just for a few lonely minutes daily, they could just be Zhang SongWang and Jing Yi.
*** *** ***
It was a week before the final day of the year.
Ji SongLi had never been happier to see his father back home. For the past couple of weeks, he had been constantly pestered by his sister to whip those egg-whites. Because both of his mothers and the three princes supported Ji LanBai, Ji SongLi could only concede. Therefore, cakes after cakes were baked. For weeks, the residence smelled like a dessert shop.
Ji SongLi was sure the household must have exhausted egg supply in the whole town. He was also sure that the head culprit behind it all, YuLan, was enjoying his plight.
Zhen BuFeng could not help him either, he was deemed too rough after wasting a few batches of eggs. Yet, even after Ji SongLi's arm felt like jelly because of all those egg-whippings, Zhen BuFeng still wanted to spar with him every single day. After all, both of their fathers were not around, thus it was up to them to keep up with practice as best as they could. The three princes joined them in the training sessions, but compared to them who ate and trained normally, without the extra physical activity that he had to do in the kitchen, Ji SongLi was comparably more tired.
Ji SongLi did not even like the cake too much, so he hardly had any desire to taste the fruit of his labor.
Therefore, when Ji ChanFang returned home from the capital, and Zhen YongWen took the three princes and Zhen BuFeng away with him, Ji SongLi almost cried in happiness.
For the first time in his life, Ji SongLi begged his father for extra training sessions every day. He did not want to whip any more eggs, he did not want to smell any more cake. At least until the year passed.
Ji LanBai was not too happy about it and tried to coerce her father. But once Ji ChanFang tasted the peach-colored sponge cake, he frowned and decided that such dessert could not be more important than Ji SongLi's training. The General thought it was too sweet as well, insisting it did not taste that good. Thus, he was not interested in more cakes being made, especially if it had to hinder Ji SongLi's training.
YuLan was amused with the banters between the father, the daughter, and the son. The two Madames of course, could not have any objection to the master of the house.
One morning, YuLan woke up earlier than Ji LanBai. Tiptoeing silently over the younger girl's sleeping figure to get off her bed, she thought that even an earthquake would probably not wake Ji LanBai up. The girl did not even budge in the slightest, cocooned like a prawn under the quilt. YuLan walked out of the room, exiting the sleeping chamber towards the courtyard. Various servants had started to get busy, despite the sun hardly peeking over the rooftop. They had to prepare morning necessities and breakfast for their masters, ready for them when they wake up.
In fact, YuLan was going to meet up with Xiao Hui and Xiao Su, her friends from the orphanage. The two had been assigned by Ji LanBai to prepare her daily breakfast.
In Ji estate, the masters had the luxury to choose their own meals if they wished to. This was usually communicated to their personal maids to be relayed to the kitchen servants. Ji LanBai entrusted YuLan with this task, and YuLan also recommended Xiao Hui and Xiao Su as they had better palate than the other maids. The two girls had the knack to be able to match different ingredients together, resulting in fresh simple meals suited for the mornings. At this hour, YuLan figured the two girls. who usually slept in the servants' quarters at night, would be heading to the kitchen already.
Rubbing her hands together under her warm robes, she let out a breath from her mouth, puff of faint smoke forming in the cold air. It was officially the last week of winter. The air was still crisp, although the sun warmth became more noticeable each passing day.
When she noticed something at the side of the footpath, she halted her steps. She crouched and observed what had distracted her.
Ji SongLi and his father were probably the only people in the whole residence who had woken up when the sky was still dark. Due to his sudden interest in training, Ji ChanFang was more than obliging to give direct pointers. The result was, Ji SongLi's muscles were sore every single day. However, although it was still better to swing a bamboo sword than whipping egg-whites, Ji SongLi had hardly made progress. His father was very patient, but Ji SongLi could not miss the disappointment in the older man's eyes when he paused a stance, unable to connect his moves further.
He was still mulling over the manual his father kept drilling into his head day after day. Perhaps repeating them over and over again in his head would give him the inspiration needed to breakthrough.
On his way back to his room where a warm bath must have already been prepared by his maids, he noticed a familiar figure crouching by the footpath still laden in snow. Hovering above her, he looked at the object of her fascination.
A bud had sprouted at the side of the footpath, almost completely hidden by the snow that was only starting to thaw. The dainty petals, very vivid in purple, had broken through the layer of snow, reaching for sunlight.
"Spring is almost here," Ji SongLi said.
YuLan had noticed his presence ever since he walked towards her and nodded, "This little one tries so hard. It wants to bloom way earlier than its friends still beneath the soil."
YuLan stood up and greeted the youth, observing his sweaty forehead. During her stay, she could see how adept the two generals' sons and the three Ppinces in their martial art and breathing techniques. Even after a long session of practice, their breaths were always steady.
Only with the slight tremble of SongLi's right hand, his sword-wielding hand, and the slight furrow of his brows, that YuLan knew how hard the practice had been that morning,
"Has Master Ji been too hard on Young Master?" She smiled.
"No...," Ji SongLi let out a soundless sigh, "It's me who is useless. Doesn't matter how hard I train or how many times I repeat the moves, I can't understand what I am supposed to do."
"Maybe I am just not talented," he muttered softly, shifting his gaze towards the flower bud. Despite his dejection, he did not understand why it was so comfortable to speak his own self doubts to YuLan.
Perhaps it was because everyone else in the family always expected him to be perfect.
There was a moment of silence before a small hand came into his view, caressing the purple petals very lightly.
"You see, Young Master," YuLan said, "The best seedling cannot grow on its own."
She paused, her gaze still soft on the flower bud, "It needs good soil, it needs the sun."
"This little one broke through its barrier so early because it wants to grow."
Withdrawing her fingers away from the petals and hiding them under her sleeves again, YuLan looked into Ji SongLi's eyes, her gaze serene.
"It doesn't matter how good a soil is, or how brightly the sun shines. If the seedling does not want to grow, it will always stay under the ground." YuLan's lips were lifted in small smile. The tranquility in her gaze became dazzling to him as she spoke,
"Young Master Ji SongLi, do you want to grow?"
For Ji SongLi, her gaze carried wisdom beyond her years. Although her question was a one that seemed to be challenging, her tone exuded faith in him. Perhaps, more than what he felt towards himself.
The smile was almost blinding. "If you want to grow, nothing can stop you."
