My King of Flowers

CHAPTER FOUR

Grandmother Pei visited last night. She often came when Yinuo’s life changed, during special occasions such as her first cycle, when she gripped her stomach so tightly she thought she’d die, or on Double Seventh when she expressed her pride for her. This night, she wiped the speck from her cheek and called her “precious” and “her little one,” over and over again until she felt her lips on her forehead and the embrace of her cool arms.

“My precious one,” Nainai whispered, kissing the top of her head. Her grandmother had left the world peacefully in a dream before her eighth winter, and though still hard, her loss did not compare to the pain of losing Dehai. He’d been severed from her—an altogether different pain to cope with than when Nainai fell into a dreamless sleep, and Dehai was forced into death. So when she reflected on it, Nainai’s passing only brought a brief melancholy thought that vanished in the next.

Yinuo groaned, feeling the cool cloth on her head. Alongside her, Danni read the Zhuangzi with a thoughtful hand on his cheek. Yinuo moaned and slowly sat up in bed. Danni looked up from his text, his presence a calming force in the sun shafts of early afternoon. The storm had passed, and with it, the pain in her leg.

He wore a zhiju made of natural hemp in a hue of deep indigo. The fabric, modest and coarse to the touch, draped softly around him—a far cry from the attire Danni wore in his wild years. A faint smile graced his lips, and his eyes, gently curved like the delicate arch of a willow leaf and reflective as a tranquil pond, met hers with gentle warmth.

“Did you enjoy your nap?” Danni inquired, with a gentleness in his tone and eyes focused on his tome.

“Nap?” she asked, still wiping the sleep from her eyes. Her clothes were dry and warm, and the room heated slightly to her comfort. Danni sat near her table and marked his page with a red ribbon.

“Father and the other brothers have been called to work,” he informed her.

“Even Weixin? I thought he had time off?” she asked.

Danni nodded, “He is answering General Lei’s summons and won’t be back until evening. This is a good thing, sister. How are you feeling?”

“I’m... where’s Mingdan? What happened to my gift, that stranger! Danni! Where is Mingdan!”

“He’s fine. Mingdan went with Sile to his lessons early this morning. Oh, yes, that’s right.” He rose from the chair and picked up the silk bundle at her bedside. “Mingdan found this for you and says that the visitor last night was a friend of the family.”

“Friend?” she canted her head and then shook it. Last night, the visitor seemed so threatening, and there was something off about the gleam of his eyes. “They brought up Dehai,” she said.

“Yes, I’m sorry, dear sister. Just forget about it. You overindulged last night and weren’t feeling well when you awoke. I’m certain that you were just influenced by the huangjiu Weixin kept pouring.” He sighed and shook his head in an annoyed way. “Our brothers should know better to avoid the second bottle.”

“I take it Yaolin’s been here,” she said, wrapping the quilt around her shoulders.

“En. She has an errand to run in town for mother. If you want to join her today, I will leave you to get dressed. She’s leaving soon.”

“Oh...” Yinuo thought she still didn’t know if her mother’s temper had simmered or merely sizzled out. “Thank you, Danni.”

Danni bowed to her, picked up his copy of the Zhuangzi, and headed for the door, sliding it closed and allowing Yinuo a moment to breathe. She didn’t usually dress herself, but with Yaolin busy, she hurried to make herself ready and then grabbed her pink shoes with the peach blossoms on the edge. Expectantly, her leg wasn’t hurting today, so she rushed through the hallway quickly but did not run as she passed her mother’s study.

Peering in cautiously, like a cat to a stranger, Yinuo watched from a distance as her mother slid her porcelain hand over her ebony hair and tucked the loose strand behind her ear. She would always be her mother, even if the crow’s feet faintly started to form at the side of her round eyes and the wrinkles touched her smile lines. Slightly overweight, but expected for a woman who’d bared seven children and lost one.

Her mother’s chestnut-colored eyes caught hers in the golden mirror and then quickly diverted to her desk. “Are you better?” she asked shortly.

“Yes, mother,” she replied.

Her mother capped the perfume bottle and then carefully stood and turned to her, folding her arms. “Little Yi’er, what am I going to do with you?”

“Love me?” she offered, and her mother chuckled.

Her mother did not look amused as she struck her with the back of her hand to her shoulder. It didn’t hurt, but was enough of a warning for her to quiet. “I do love you, Yinuo. You spent the night drinking with your elder brothers.”

“Weixin’s hand was a little heavy.”

“A little?” the vein in her mother’s forehead twitched. “You ran out into the rain this morning, and you better thank your brother Mingdan when he returns this afternoon. If he hadn’t been up, he wouldn’t have seen you sleepwalking!”

So, that’s the excuse her brother used, Yinuo thought, silently adding to her scroll another time her brothers had covered for her. One of these days, she would unravel it, and it would reach from the Great Hall all the way out of town. With downcast eyes, Yinuo carefully took her mother’s hand and rubbed the space between her forefinger and thumb.

“It was important to spend time with them,” Yinuo explained.

“Honestly, I should be yelling at your brothers instead,” her mother said, but Yinuo quickly shook her head.

“Mother, please don’t be vexed. I’m feeling fine and would love to go with you to the market. I’ll help with the wedding preparations any way I can.”

For a while, her mother weighed Yinuo’s words but didn’t initially agree or disagree. However, today didn’t seem to favor Yinuo. “And reward you for sneaking out? Don’t give me that look; I coaxed it from Danbei and Weixin. Yinuo, you’re not leaving until your groom picks you up,” she huffed, then called for her maid and started out the door.

“Mother!” she chased after her. “It was—”

“I won’t hear it. Yinuo, spend time with Danni today. At least he won’t let you stray from the path of virtue.” Her mother left the estate, loading herself into a covered carriage with red lacquer and intricate carvings. Yaolin appeared, nodding at the lady of the house before putting up an arm in front of Yinuo, their shared look serving as a signal to watch over her. Something didn’t feel right about the exchange, even though her mother had asked Yaolin since her childhood to watch over her. There was tension in the crease of her brow and a stiffening to her body. Whatever it was, her mother was hiding something from her.

Yinuo shook her head and marched off. Fine, she’d spend time with Danni. She found him at the family shrine, softly murmuring a prayer as he meditated, kneeling. Quietly approaching, she intended to kneel beside him but misstepped, her hand instinctively reaching for his shoulder to steady herself. Her touch didn’t disrupt his meditation; instead, Danni’s hand found hers, steadying her until she managed to kneel beside him. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before gently letting go.

After concluding his prayer, Danni inhaled deeply, marking the end of his meditation. “She’s still upset.”

“She’s acting weird, gege,” Yinuo replied. “I haven’t seen her act this way since she lost the baby and was keeping it from us.”

“She has her reasons,” Danni supplied. “She’s our mother; when the time is right, she will share with us if she believes it will promote our wellbeing.”

“I hate seeing her like that,” Yinuo said.

“When we’re young, we’re oblivious, and then one day we notice it, but instead of coming in on a joke, we realize the discomfort and empathize with the hurt. How is your leg feeling, by the way?” he asked.

“It’s fine,” she said.

“Good,” he smiled to her. “Meimei, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” she tilted her head.

“Don’t be like Mother; tell me what troubles you.”

Yinuo looked to the family shrine, and thought about it. For one, there was the memory of Dehai, and two, the strangeness of her brothers and mother. She felt like her life was shrouded, and it made her fearful of something ominous approaching. It didn’t help her dreams.

Danni had never been this compassionate in youth. He fought wildly with Ruijian and oftentimes would whine about the smallest of things. Among his friends, Danni was the one who caused trouble and thought it fun to dare others into dangerous situations. He never intentionally hurt someone, and his words were more callous than calm back then. There was a lot of injustice he couldn’t change, but always he’d seen himself as her elder brother and caretaker.

“Danni, do you remember, Dehai?” she asked.

“No,” he hesitated before lying to her. “Why do you ask?”

“I think he’s haunting me,” she sighed as if saying the words released the tension in her chest. She breathed through the rest of the thought. “An omen, perhaps, to some life change if I keep seeing him? Or perhaps it is just the season of peonies and I’m too sentimental,” she confided in her brother. Who held onto his prayer beads and whispered a prayer to the incense he burned at the family shrine. Yinuo savored the sweetness of ruixiang filling the chamber as Danni prayed.

“It could be,” he said. “You should listen. We all would benefit from listening,” She hadn’t remembered when he’d been so insightful as a child. Danni, as a child, was always in trouble, brash, rash, and wild. She could scarcely believe the calm and dignified priest who now kneeled before her family’s shrine with such a serious expression. Danni stood and offered her a hand, helping her to rise with him, his smile warm against the backlight from the door.

“Come here,” he said, guiding her to a side table and selecting a piece of paper from the stack. He scribed a talisman, murmured a prayer, and then handed it to her. “There, no more evil spirits will come near you today.”

“Thanks, Danni,” she said, tucking it carefully away. They walked together out to the garden, where the rich scent of peonies thickly penetrated the air. Yinuo turned to the sky, taking a deep breath, as her brother paced a few steps ahead; the moment of solace was a balm for the pain that had gripped her that morning. Her crutch, now redundant, lay forgotten in her room.

Danni’s pace stemmed, each step purposely taken in mindfulness of Yinuo. He paused occasionally to admire the peach blossoms and, from time to time, take a fragrant cutting or two, handing her the branches to carry.

“Danni,” she called to him.

“Yes, meimei,” he noted thoughtfully as he prepared the branches with a smile.

“Eldest brother’s marriage will open discussions for my own, correct?”

“It’s possible,” he replied.

“Will you find me a husband far away? Perhaps, near your temple where I can at least be close to you.”

“It’s a long distance,” he replied.

“I know, but I keep dreaming of leaving for a distant home, almost to the point where I drift out into the sea and never return. So if this is an omen, I’d rather be near my family, even if far away.”

“Father will not allow it,” he reassured her. “You are not going to be sent so far.”

“Then why do I dream of the vast sea?”

“I do not know. Perhaps it is because of something else entirely. What else have you dreamt of recently?”

“A forest,” she replied, “So dark and grand, the leaves envelop me in shadows as if night itself has descended. I’m overwhelmed by the darkness, and I find myself calling out for my family like a lost child. I don’t know what it means, gege,” she confided in him. Turning to the peonies in the garden, she found one with a particularly large head. Its rich fuchsia color called to her, and the deep fragrance of the petals enveloped her senses. “I’m nervous,” she admitted.

“Don’t be,” he replied. “Wherever you go, Little Yi, you will be strong. I know it. You’re the only girl I know who, after breaking her leg riding a horse, would then beg her brothers to teach her to ride again.”

“I’m weird.”

“No,” he retorted. “Your Yinuo, brave and perhaps reckless, but never weird.”

“What do you think it all means?” she asked.

“Are you asking as my sister or seeking a philosophical answer?” he replied, temporarily taking the peach branches from her to bundle them with a red ribbon before handing them over. He then stepped back. “Well?”

“I respect your council, and you know I would never asklittleDanni for advice.”

“I have grown a few chi,” he chuckled. “But as to your question. I think you’re dealing with grief, sister. The wedding of our brother is a change in our lives, but it will bring happiness as well as trials. You are right to be nervous, because if you were not then it would show that you did not care. Besides, I saw the mandarin ducks, you only have the best wishes for your brother.”

“And my dreams?” she prodded.

“You’ll understand when it comes, but before then do not burden yourself with needless worry. Whatever, we face, you have us at your side. Now, let’s go find lunch. I’m starving and I know you haven’t eaten yet.”

“That sounds lovely, gege,” she replied, as her stomach gave a protest. She blushed, and Danni laughed, leading them towards the kitchens. Yinuo followed behind, holding onto her peach blossom bundle and stopping only a moment to look behind her. She could have sworn she’d seen something in her peripheral vision, but it vanished with her brother’s call, beckoning her back into the house.