The Moon in the Palace (The Empress of Bright Moon Duology)(4)

I hoped the Emperor would summon me; it was the only way to meet him. And life in Qing’s household was miserable. He was poorer than any of my father’s servants. Many days went by without food, and if I was lucky, I ate the burned rice crisp scraped from the bottom of the pot. Big Sister was forced to marry a low merchant in the south so she would not burden us, and Little Sister grew sicker. I made some pickled cabbages and sold them at the market to get her medicine money.

Then one day, my luck changed. Gongs clanged outside Qing’s house. A man holding a banner entered the gate. Behind him stood a carriage and a man who looked like a large gourd, with a potbelly, fat torso, and small head.

“All kneel,” he ordered as my neighbors, Qing, and Mother gathered before him. Not sure what would happen next, I knelt beside Mother, holding Little Sister in my arms. The gourd man spread out a scroll with gilded edges—the emblem of an edict.

In a singsong cadence, he read, “On the eighth month of the thirteenth year of the Reign of Peaceful Prospect, I, Emperor Taizong, the Emperor of China, the One Above All, the Conqueror of the North and the South, the ruler of all land and the seven seas, hereby do decree that the second daughter of Wu Shihuo, the former Governor of Shanxi Prefecture, the man who provided meritorious services to our kingdom, is to be chosen as one of the fifteen maidens who shall enter the Inner Court. Here, I give my decree.”

The crowd gasped, and people surrounded me, shouting their congratulations. I nodded happily, for Father’s petitions had been heard, and I would go to the palace, just as he had wished. Yet I could not smile when I looked at Mother and Little Sister. I would need to abandon them; I had not thought of that. And my sister was so sick. Who would take care of them when I was in the palace?

Later, after everyone left, Little Sister dozed off, and I sat on a bench with Mother. She dabbed her eyes.

“These are tears of happiness,” she said.

She sounded pleased, but I could still hear pain in her voice.

I did not want to leave her either. In the palace, I would not see her face when I woke in the morning or hear her voice before I went to sleep. I would not be able to wrap my arms around her or listen to her breathe.

“I don’t have to go,” I said, even though I knew I had no choice. No one dared to defy the Emperor.

She shook her head. “You have to. This is for the best.”

My heart heavy, I went behind her and rubbed her shoulders. Her back was hurting her in those days, and I had learned how to ease her pain. I held her shoulders with the strength I was born with, and I kneaded with all the misery and helplessness that bled from my heart. With my thumbs, I circled over her shoulder blades, the top of her shoulders, and then to her back. Under my fingertips, I felt her slack skin and hard bones—solid, resolute, comforting. Like love.

Then I knew. Nothing would ever separate us, be it palace or graveyard.

I eased the pressure and gently tapped her back with my fists. She relaxed and sighed in relief as she always did.

“The Palace Escorts will fetch you in one month. Then you’ll start a new life,” Mother said.

“A new life.” I nodded and looked around the courtyard, where cracked walls enclosed the small space. Before me, a pool of hogwash leaked under a bucket, and near the gate stood a broken spindle and a cooking pit built from mud. That place was not my home, but a reminder of what I had to do for my family—I had to help my mother and sister escape that terrible place, and I had to take care of them. It was possible, since I had been summoned to serve the Emperor. For if I won his favor, I could reclaim my family’s home and restore my family’s fortune. I could perhaps even fulfill Father’s wish for my destiny—to become the most powerful ruler in China.

I went around and knelt before her so I could have a better look at her, at the face that had always looked composed but was recently carved with grief and fear, the face of home, the face that I would die to protect. “Will you take good care of yourself, Mother?”

“I will,” she said, her calm eyes seeing through my soul, and gently, she pulled me closer to her. “Mei. You’re alone, you have no one to help you, and in your heart, you have too much metal and not enough water. Do you understand what kind of place the court is?”

I knew my words would not soothe her, so I said, “Mother, do you remember that Father used to teach me Sun Tzu? He once explained to me the difference between an ordinary fighter and a good fighter.” He had quoted the master’s words and told me to memorize them: “‘To lift a feather is no sign of great strength; to see the sun and moon is no sign of sharp sight; to hear the noise of thunder is no sign of a quick ear.’”

“Ah.” Mother nodded. “So you’ll learn to be a good fighter.”

“Oh no, Mother.” I smiled. “I will be a clever fighter, who not only wins, but also wins with ease.”

With that, I hugged her.





AD 639


   the Thirteenth Year of Emperor Taizong’s Reign of Peaceful Prospect

   AUTUMN





3


Two Palace Escorts in maroon capes came to fetch me on the fifteenth day of the ninth month. In my full court regalia, a skirt of pink peony paired with white trousers and a green top, I entered a carriage with a blue roof. Near it, Mother dabbed her face. She was alone now. Little Sister had passed away. The horses began to trot, and Mother called out softly, following me. The distance between us grew, and her figure, like a statue on the other side of an opaque silk screen, dwindled and slowly melted away, only her voice, faint but distinct, ringing in my ears.