磕磕撞撞
Kē ke zhuàng zhuàng
Walk unsteadily (when drunk or in a hurry).
Stumble or stagger along; reel.

Zhangyu led me to the small stream that ran through the clearing we had made camp in. Beside the stream the path continued and we followed it. Just before we left the clearing we passed Linagyi on the long grass of the bank, snoring away, a now empty wine jar beside her.

We followed the path along the bank, under low hanging bows of trees. Presently though, the trees started to change, from those with leaves to those with needles, and I had to slow my walk, carefully picking my way forward with my bare feet. It was not the needles that littered the path that bothered me, but the cones, with their spiky edges and rough seeds.

"Dare I ask what happened to your shoes?" Zhangyu commented, pausing once more to help me step over a rock surrounded by fallen pine cones. A formidable obstacle.

"I left them behind," I replied. "They were too tall."

"If you enjoy fashion, I can have one of my tailors sent over. Or perhaps you could come to my courtyard for a fitting."

I laughed. "Thank you, prince. But the scholar's robes are more than enough. Your Uncle has already provided a tailor."

I thought once he had helped me over the rock he would let my hand drop, but the second prince kept it, tucked in the corner of his arm, as we walked.

The path grew smooth once more. I was grateful for it, as, despite my strength against wine, I was still quite drunk from the game earlier. The world seemed slightly tilted, the trees swaying, and despite the fact I knew both of these were illusions caused by drink, I could not keep my bare feet entirely straight as I placed them on the path in front of me.

I was almost grateful for the prince's arm.

In the silence between us, I could hear my own breathing, coming faster from the exercise, and the prince's slower, but getting more labored as the climb intensified. I could feel the warmth of his skin, through the thin material of his shirt, where my hand rested.

I took my hand from the second prince's arm.

"Are your feet hurting?" Zhangyu asked. "Perhaps, if we tie the laces tight, my boots might—"

"Why don't you tell me why you are being so charming today?" I asked, regathering my robes up over one arm so they would not drag on the ground.

Zhangyu laughed a harsh laugh. His copper eyes found mine. "Am I not always charming?"

I snorted, reaching out and grasping a tree to steady myself. "Please. You are obviously trying to win your way into my good graces."

Zhangyu stopped, waiting for me. He smiled slyly. "Is it working?"

I suddenly remembered having this conversation before with him, but in reverse, at the Midsummer Banquet.

I looked at the prince, to see if he remembered. His smile told me he did.

"Just tell me what it is you want," I snapped, pushing off the tree and swaying onward.

Zhangyu followed. "Fine. I confess, there is a question I want to ask you."

I knew it. "Ask it. But I might not answer."

"I wanted to know about your relationship with my ancestor, the Green King."

I whirled on him, blocking the path. Zhangyu held up his hands defensively. "I noticed before, when I insulted him in front of you, you got angry. It was not the reaction I expected. I had assumed you would hate my ancestor, and the other four gods, for what they did to you."

I found my mouth opening and closing like a fish. I looked at the Second Prince. His sharp eyebrows were drawn over his eyes, watching me carefully.

"I do hate them," I said finally.

"And my ancestor?" Zhangyu continued, copper eyes bright. "What was he to you before? Were you—"

"Friends," I said quickly. "We were friends." I turned, and continued up the path, before Zhangyu could ask anymore questions I didn't want to answer, but felt compelled to.

"Wait, Lady Yunou," said Zhangyu, hurrying to catch me. He did not need to hurry much, as I had stopped to carefully step around a patch of rough stone. "I had another question I wanted to ask."

I huffed with irritation. "So many questions today. Fine. Ask it."

"If you were friends with my ancestor, do you know what he did with his seal when he died?"

"What?" I asked, surprised.

Zhangyu walked sideways beside me, so as to see my face. Pine cones crunched under the heels of his boots. "His seal. Each of the five gods have a seal, a divine yinzhang, which is used to generate all other seals in the kingdom. More than anything, possession of that seal marks one as a god. Humans could not use magic if not for those those five godly yinzhang."

"I know what seal," I snapped. "I meant how is it possible no one knows where such an important item is."

Zhangyu shrugged, an uncharacteristic gesture. "It is said before my ancestor died he hid it somewhere in the valley. The only problem is, no one knows where."

I shook my head. That sounded like Lu.

We reached the mill. The building was in surprisingly good condition, considering its age and the fact that it was no longer in use. The thatch was thick with moss and ferns, but there were no holes.The windows were open, letting in light and the forest, which seemed to have started growing inside.

The mill wheel itself was still, the planks of the sluice having rotted away until the water poured uselessly to the side, instead of into the pockets of the wheel to turn it.

I made my way toward the forever open doorway. The door had either been removed, or rotted away.

"It is said my ancestor used to live here, as lodger, before he became the Green King. He would tell stories to the miller, in exchange for a space in his loft. A humble life."

I snorted to myself. History seemed intent on thinking Lu a hermit. Really, he had been well landed, wealthy, and lived in comfort.

Otherwise, why would I have stayed with him long as I did?

This mill had been long deserted when I had met Lu. Originally, I think it had been used to grind buckwheat grown in the weak soil of the high valley by the monks that lived in the monastery further up the mountains. But the monks had long since built another mill, closer to the monastery.

Lu and I would stay here sometimes, on our way back from the monastery, or wherever else we had traveled to. Everytime we stayed, Lu would scratch a poem into the plaster of the building's wall, like some young vandal leaving his mark.

Eagerly, I slipped through the door, looking forward to reading the poems, and reviving the memories that came with them. Tired bodies after a long day's travel. Talk and wine around a small fire. Lu's smile, at me, after I had said something he found amusing.

Inside it was dark. The planks of the second floor had collapsed, and been dragged and stacked along one wall. The apparatus for grinding grain had long rotted and collapsed, but the stone was still there, huge and rough on its plinth.

I tilted my neck. I could see all the way up to the roof thatch, dim and shadowed above me.

Perhaps because it was dark, I could not see the poems Lu had scratched over the years. The walls looked smooth, the only marks on them swirls of mold where black had taken root in the plaster.

"Do you have a seal? Can you make a light?" I asked Zhangyu, who had come through the doorway behind me.

"I do, but I did not bring ink and paper." I had grown so used to Sanli using Tenzetsutou, I forgot that others had to write out their spells on paper, instead of the air.

"Do you have a flint then?"

Zhangyu withdrew a cord from about his neck. From it hung his yinzhang, marked with 'Green King' just as Sanli's was.

Beside it hung a pendant of metal, and another of stone. Zhangyu handed them both to me.

I pulled the two items apart on the cord and struck them. Sparks flashed in the dark.

Kneeling, I quickly made a fire from dry leaves on the floor and splinters from the fallen planking I gathered together.

"There is not much to see in here," said Zhangyu, watching me in puzzlement.

A large fire was burning now. I handed the second prince back his seal and flint, and found a stick suitable to make a torch. I wrapped the end round with dead grass, stuck it in my fire, and then held it aloft.

I saw the Second Prince was right. There was nothing to see. The walls were bare, all the way up to the rafters.

A dread filled my stomach. "What happened to the writing?" I asked.

"I had it plastered over a few years ago." Zhangyu said. "I aim to have the rest of the building restored as well, eventually. Even the water wheel, though it is not needed now."

I shook. With loss. Or anger. I wasn't sure.

"You idiot," I muttered under my breath. Then I rounded on him. "FOOL!"

The hastily made torch fell to the floor as I launched myself at the second prince. Zhangyu caught my arms, surprise flickering across his face at my furious reaction.

"He wrote those poems!" I yelled into Zhangyu's shocked face. I tried to free my hands, so I could strike him.

"Ao?! What's wrong?"

Zhangyu and I both turned. Sanli stood in the doorway, panting as though he had run.

"What are you talking about?" said Sanli, coming toward us. He glared at Zhangyu, who quickly released my arms and stepped back.

"The poems! He 'had them plastered over'," I sneered, mocking Zhangyu's voice. "They're gone!"

"What poems?" asked Sanli, stopping before me.

"The poems! The ones in the wall! The poems that Lu wrote." And then to the surprise of everyone, myself included, I threw myself at Sanli's chest, burying my face in his shirt.

"Ao?" questioned Sanli, lightly patting me on the back. "What did you do?" he asked Zhangyu accusingly.

"I didn't do anything! She just started yelling like a drunk."

"Ao?" asked Sanli more gently. I pressed my face harder into his chest. I was afraid to speak.

"...gone. They're gone..." I said into the linen of Sanli's shirt. I hated how small my voice sounded. How pathetic my words. I hated myself for not thinking to write down the poems.

I hated myself more for missing them.

"They're just poems," said Zhangyu behind me, defensively.

"Why don't you LEAVE," said Sanli pointedly. There was a moment of hesitation, and then I heard the second prince's boots on the dry leaves of the floor as he turned and left.

"Ao," Sanli said softly. I could feel his voice as he spoke, in his chest. "If you're talking about the poems that were written here, I saw them a few times, when I was a boy. I can copy them out for you."

"How can you? You only saw them a few times," I said, voice muffled.

"I can," Sanli said confidently. "Come, let's go back to camp."

Sanli went to pull away. I pulled him back, fingers twisting in his shirt.

"Not yet," I mumbled. "Just a moment longer."

*~*~*~*~*~*

When Sanli and I returned to camp, evening was fast approaching. The others had gathered around a campfire and sat roasting skewers of meat in the flames.

Zhangyu's eyes followed me as we approached.

"I must have drunk too much. I'm going to turn in for the evening," I said, to the group in general. Without waiting for an answer, I hurried to the tents.

Inside, the servants had spread out tarps on the forest floor, and on top of that rich rugs. Three bedrolls had been prepared, for each of of us, Ermi, Liang'yi and myself.

I washed in an enamel basin that sat on a stand to one side. Then, changing into a light silk robe, I crawled into one of the bedrolls.

The cotton sheets were cool and smooth against my skin. Beneath me, I could not feel the ground at all.

I thought of all the times I had spent in the woods, and slept on the bare ground, with nothing but grass for my pillow.

Outside the tent I could hear the distant murmur of conversation from the fire. Crickets chirped under the trees. In the distance one lone cicada trilled his shrill shout. He would soon die, as the summer had, with the coming of autumn.

I thought vain thoughts, about bedrolls and crickets and too high shoes, until I fell asleep.

I had hoped I would not dream, or if I did, it would be about careless things, like too tall shoes and too much wine.

But not so. In my dreams, Lu was there.

We were walking by a stream. "I think we need an adventure, Ao. Where should we go?"

Before I could answer him, my thoughts were whisked away, and we were standing on the veranda of the pagoda at the top of his valley watching the sunrise.

"Beautiful, isn't it," my friend said. His face was facing the east, and the orange light bathed it, his eyes reflecting back copper.

"Yes," I agreed, turning my own eyes to the tangerine clouds along the horizon.

I blinked. Beside me Lu had been replaced by Zhangyu. The Second Prince turned to me, copper eyes cold.

"They're just poems," he said.

I reached out in anger, but then the scene had changed again. It was Lu and I once more, and we were in one of his forest retreats. I had fallen asleep, on a pile of cushions. Everywhere, green light bled through leaves.

I had woken because Lu was doing my hair.

"Don't touch my hair, kirin," I snapped.

"Won't you let me braid it?" Asked Lu. "I am rather good at it. I used to do my sister's, long ago."

I knew Lu had had a sister, and she had died. Everytime he mentioned her, loss shone through on his face.

Suddenly, that loss was my own.

"Lu," I sobbed, now alone in the forest. "You idiot."

"Ao-jie?"

I looked around, but I was still alone, among the trees.

"Ao-jie?"

And suddenly I was awake, in the tent. Ermi knelt beside me.

I looked up at her, her brown eyes meeting my own in the dim light that shone through the tent material, from the bonfire beyond.

"I'm sorry Ao-jie. I was trying to roll you back onto your bedroll, but your hair got tangled in the rug."

"Oh. Thank you," I said, sitting up. I remembered my dream. "Did I say anything... in my sleep?"

"You called me an idiot and told me not to touch your hair."

"Oh," I said. "I am sorry for that." I hesitated. "And I am sorry for the way I spoke to you earlier, on our way here."

"It's fine Ao-jie," said Ermi. In the dim light from the fire, I saw her smile. "We all have things we don't like to talk about."

The way Ermi said it, it seemed almost as if...

...but no. There was no way the princess had figured out who I was. Otherwise she would be giddily asking me about my story, just as her Uncle had done.

Ermi's face changed to a frown. "Ao-jie, were you crying?" The princess reached out one of her small hands and softly dragged the pad of her thumb across my cheek.

"No. It must be sweat. Sometimes I sweat in my sleep," I said quickly.

"Oh," said Ermi. She yawned. "Well, I'm going to turn in. Uncle Sanli and the men are going to see the sunrise from Mount Lu. I'm too tired."

Beside us a huge snore rocked the stillness. I noticed for the first time Liang'yi, sprawled across her bedroll, limbs more off than on it.

Ermi giggled. "Liang'yi won't be going either."

I moved toward my bedroll. I was still tired, despite having slept early. And I could feel the early morning chill through my thin robe—

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Suddenly, I very much wanted to see the sunrise.

I stood, pulling on an over robe. There was no time to waste. Dawn was fast approaching.

Ermi realized my intention. "Take my slippers, Ao-jie. They're not much, but they'll be easier than walking barefoot."

I thanked her, slipped on her silk slippers, and then hurried out of the tent.

I made my way toward the fire, but the men had already gone. A lone servant sat beside the blaze, watching it carefully to prevent it spreading.

"Which way did they go?" I asked the servant, rushed. Before he could answer me, a voice called my name from behind.

"Lady Yunyou?"

I turned. The second prince stood at the entrance to the men's tent. He saw me, realizing my intention.

Zhangyu sighed. "Come. I'll show you the way."

I did not particularly want to walk with him again, after what had happened earlier, but that paled now, in comparison with seeing the sunrise.

It had become vitally important that I see it.

Zhangyu led us to the edge of the clearing and up a path. We had not gone more than a few minutes walk into the woods when the path sloped steeply upwards and began to switchback, climbing the side of the valley.

I was soon out of breath. It was not the climb so much that hindered me, as the fact Ermi's silk slippers had no sort of grip whatsoever. Dirt and loose stones skidded under my feet, making my climb slow and difficult.

"Do you want help?" Zhangyu asked ahead of me.

I refused to meet his eyes. "No," I said.

Around us the forest was still, the crickets silenced in the early morning hour. The sound of our feet on the path and my muttered curses as my shoes slipped were all I could hear.

Gradually though, the forest started to wake with the coming of dawn I heard a rustling in the undergrowth, of some small bird or rodent. The lonely cry of an animal echoed through the trees, haunting. I realized it was a deer.

The way became rocky, the trees thinned, and at last we emerged at the top of the valley.

Below, in shadow, Lu's valley stretched, a long depression running through the peaks until it reached Linjing to the south.

"That's Linjing," said Zhangyu, pointing out a distant sparkle of lights beyond the mouth of the valley.

Linjing hunkered by the Zhang River, like a black cat waiting for fish, back speckled with sparks.

I turned north, searching till I found the austere pagoda of the monastery. The monastery had been founded long before I had first come to the valley. I knew the pagoda had been burnt and rebuilt many times, and dedicated to many gods.

I was glad to see its shape in the predawn. Like an old friend who's outline is familiar, even from a distance.

I looked down once more at the valley, trying to find the different courtyards, but the trees were so thick, it was impossible to see the buildings beneath. Perhaps in the winter, when the branches were bare I could climb here and see them.

I did pick out our campfire, a distant ember glowing amongst the trees.

I stood on the eastern edge of the valley facing west. I turned now and looked behind me, toward the east, where more valleys, much like Lu's rolled, one after another, endlessly repeating, like cats sleeping in a row.

The light was growing, and the sky in the east turned faintly pink. I turned to walk higher up the ridge.

"I... I did not know those poems were my ancestor's," said Zhangyu, at my back.

This prince does not know how to apologize. "It does not matter," I said, not wanting to talk to him. Not now. I walked faster.

"If I had known, I never would have—"

"Lady Four Strings! Over here!"

We both looked up, along the ridge.

Sanli and the other two men sat perched atop a rocky crag, the highest point of the mountain. I hurried toward it.

When I got close, Sanli called down "Wait Ao, Zakhar's coming to help you up. It's a tough climb."

I found my giant friend, carefully scaling his way down the side of the rocky incline. He skidded down the last few feet, stopping before me.

Zakhar motioned for me to grab onto his back. "It's too rough a climb. Better get on."

"I will be fine," I said. "Just guide me."

I followed Zakhar, placing my hands and feet where he did. The sky lightened further, helping me see the handholds.

"Better hurry, you two, here it comes!" Sanli called down.

I turned. Zhangyu still stood, at the bottom of the crag, looking up.

"What are you doing?" I called down.

Zhangyu hesitated. "I'll watch from down here," he said, then turned to sit on a rock.

I turned back, concentrating on my own climb. The stone was rough, and cut into my hands, but that also made it easy to grip. I pulled myself up, and up, until at last hands appeared before me. Zakhar had reached the top, and turned back to haul me up beside him.

I sat panting beside him. "Thank you for guiding me."

"Of course," said Zakhar. "You can carry me on the way down. And then we're even." I laughed, my voice disappearing in the wide open air.

"Ao! Come sit by me. Best seat in the valley," Sanli called, beckoning.

I carefully made my way along the crag top, sitting down on a small ledge beside the prince, facing the east. Our legs dangled down a sheer face that plummeted into the valley below.

This high up, with nothing before me, it felt like I was flying.

Kageyama sat a little distance away, perched on a rock with one leg hanging down, looking like a black bird of prey with its eyes fixed on the horizon. I heard Zakhar settle a little way behind us.

The air was chill, this early and this high up, but beneath my thin robe and nightgown I was hot from the climb. I had started to sweat, and my breath sent out clouds of condensation in the still morning air.

"Here," said Sanli, placing his outer jacket around my shoulders. It was warm, and smelt of wood smoke and wine. I suddenly recalled the night of the Midsummer Banquet, when he had done something similar, as we had watched fireworks together. Just before I had kissed him.

"It won't do to sweat and catch a chill," said Sanli, turning his own collar up.

I murmured my thanks. "Look in the left breast pocket," Sanli said.

I reached into the pocket Sanli indicated and drew out several sheets of paper, folded like a letter.

I unfolded the paper. In the brightening light, I could read the bold characters Sanli had inked there, in black.

If only I could climb somewhere
Alas I'm too drunk
With crickets chirping for company
I sit and drink beneath the trees.

I stared at the words for a moment. Then I laughed. I flicked through the other pages, laughing even more.

"What is it?" asked Sanli, peering into my face. "Are those not the poems you mentioned?"

"They are," I said, settling my chuckles. "I just forgot, how bloody terrible Lu was at poetry."

Sanli laughed as well. "They are rather bad, aren't they? When I saw them as a child I never would have thought they were written by my ancestor..."

"How were you able to remember them? Did you go to the mill often, when you were a child?"

Sanli hesitated. "I did. Zhangyu and I would often venture up here. To us, as boys, coming this far up the valley was a great adventure."

He turned away from me, sighing. "Zhangyu did not mean any harm, with what he did. That place is precious to him. I'm sure he only wanted to try and keep it. He did not realize they were Lu's poems."

I frowned. "I do not understand why you defend him. No one could mistake you two as anything other than enemies."

Sanli shifted, leaning one arm on his leg. "Just because Zhangyu and I do not get along, does not mean I have to slander and defame him. I think he paints himself the villain, because he is afraid to try to play the hero. Really, I pity him."

I looked down where the second prince sat below, apart from us, his single silhouette looking toward the horizon.

I turned back to look at Sanli beside me. "Thank you. For the poems."

Sanli smiled back, his real smile. "You're very welcome." He searched my face, and when he spoke his voice was soft, so Zakhar and Kageyama, nearby, would not hear. "You cared for my ancestor a great deal." It was not a question.

I hesitated. "Yes," I finally admitted. "I have had few friends in my life. He is one of the few."

"Is that why you first approached me? That night in Nan'ye? Do I remind you of him?" Sanli asked, voice light, eyes on the horizon.

"A little," I confessed.

There was a pause. "Is that why you stay?" Sanli asked.

I studied the prince's face. His green eyes were looking across the valley, as though he were not interested, but I knew he was waiting for my answer.

I smiled. "No. That is not why I stay. I told you, little prince. You have a secret. And I am going to find it out." I reached out and placed a finger to his chin, to turn his face toward mine. "Just like this mountain. I want to see you from both sides."

At that moment, the sun broke the horizon. Atop the mountain, we were the first to feel it, warm red light on our faces. To the north, where the monastery stood, the distant sound of a bronze bell came like a gong through the still morning air, announcing the day.

Sanli looked conflicted. Then he laughed. "I think you have a secret as well. Though perhaps I have already figured out what it is."

The light swept down, from our perch, to Zhangyu below, and then down the mountainside, gradually reaching into the shadow of the valley below.

"Perhaps," I said.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Author's note HERE.

Awesome art by Dimzzu