My King of Flowers

CHAPTER SIX

10 years prior...

Even though the gardener only ever planted them once, the peonies came back each spring to fill the space with sweetness. Looking at him curiously, Yinuo watched the gardener’s son prepare a silken cushion and drape a blanket on the back of the seat with care. His blue eyes lifted to greet her with anticipation and warmth. “Here, all set!” he proclaimed. “Do you think you can transfer to it?”

“You put wheels on a chair!” she smiled brightly. “Are we going somewhere!”

“En, I have a surprise,” Dehai replied, offering her his hand. She took it willingly, using him as support as she flopped into the seat to prevent putting weight on her broken leg. “Comfy?” he confirmed as she nodded. Dehai packed the blanket around her before sneaking over to the gate and sticking his head out. He put his fingers to his lips as Yinuo watched excitedly. When he was satisfied, Yinuo lifted her legs for him, and he pushed her out of the garden. He drove her past the main houses and around into an alleyway. One she never took because it was for servants, and she smiled gleefully, ready for this adventure.

No matter how much her heart thrummed, she kept her mouth shut as they approached the iron side gate. A relief of a magnolia tree and an old man sitting beneath greeted them and did not judge as Dehai shoved his shoulder into the door to open it. He leaned back all the way and struggled to get enough clearance before Yinuo pushed the wheels of the chair to escape the manor. They both cringed as the door slammed shut heavily, then turned to each other and laughed.

“Onward, Dehai!” she ordered, pointing off into the street. They rushed through the town and past the side alleyways of golden gravel, sparkling in the light, before ending up outside of the main wall and overlooking the bluffs. Rapeseed fields planted beyond the walls greeted them; fields and fields of soft puffs of yellow blanketed the rolling hills.

“It’s beautiful,” Yinuo whispered.

“En,” Dehai replied, pushing Yinuo’s chair towards it. “It’s not far!”

“Take me far away, Dehai!” Yinuo proclaimed. “As far away as the Eastern Sea!”

“That’s a little far,” he replied. “But if you want, I’ll take you as far as I can.”

“Where’s your imagination, Dehai?” Yinuo chided, “Okay, roll me down that hill over there! I want to play in the rapeseed!”

He complied, pushing to race the chair, occasionally taking a moment to jump on the back and let the hills propel them. The force pushed Yinuo’s hair back as she squealed in glee, their speed accelerating. It bumped and jostled them from time to time before gradually rolling to a stop. Sometimes, Dehai would struggle to push her up the larger hills, but the cycle would start all over again once when they breached the summit and rolled down the next one. “Over there! Push me over to that big tree!” Yinuo ordered, and Dehai followed through.

They raced down the hill and up again, hitting a curve that sent Yinuo flying from her seat and rolling into the rapeseed. “Yinuo!” Dehai called, scared, abandoning the chair and rushing to her. Yinuo giggled, tickled by the grass, as she safely came to a stop in a dip.

She looked up between the tall grass and the yellow puffy heads to see Dehai over her with a worried expression but then a smile. She reached up to him and pulled him to her, clasping him tightly, before shoving him off and sitting up. “That was so much fun!” she proclaimed. “Dehai, do it again!”

He shook it off, his face reddening, and hand at his cheek to cover it. Dehai didn’t face her; they simply looked over the scene before them. Alone in the world, two children sat between the stalks, savoring the gentle breeze that swept around them.

“Dehai,” Yinuo crooned. He returned her smile and threaded his fingers through hers, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before standing and taking a few paces away from her. Don’t leave me, Yinuo thought, watching him trek back up the hill. “Stay, Dehai,” she called, and he stilled. Dehai looked over his shoulder; the faint scar on his chin, accentuated by the light, drew her focus to his smile—one she’d always remember.

PRESENT DAY

He looked away. Prince Cuilin avoided her, all in the moment before a sense of shame engulfed her. With a resounding splash, the cold enveloped Yinuo as she plunged into the clear water. She reached up towards the shifting reflection and felt herself bounce as she hit the padding of mud. The motion caused billows of dirt to waft through the water. Above the pond, a blurred reflection stood, and briefly, she hoped he’d be there, when an arm latched onto hers and pulled her to the surface. Coughing and spitting out the water, Yinuo blew the stinging sensation from her nose. She rubbed at it before coming to her senses; it was freezing, and the cold spring air didn’t help.

“Will she be all right?” Prince Cuilin asked, his voice distant. He hadn’t even tried to save her. Yinuo snapped her head around, and saw the prince merely looking on with curiosity, still standing beside Sile. In a moment of awkwardness and empathy for his sister, Sile scratched the side of his head, averting his eyes in embarrassment. Weixin’s arm was around hers, guiding her carefully onto the gravel beside the pond to ensure she was safely out of the water before he turned to address the prince. Just then, a blue robe obscured her vision. Danni, acting swiftly, stripped off his own outer robe to drape it over her shoulders. He then positioned himself in front of her, effectively blocking her view from the others and securing the robe at the front.

“Prince Cuilin.” Weixin clasped his hands together, addressing the prince.

“Is she all right?” he asked without a single inflection of his smooth voice.

“Thank you for the concern, but we, her brothers, will handle this,” Weixin replied, his clothes mostly dry, except for the arm that had hoisted Yinuo from the pond. Feeling her face burn, Yinuo was then lifted to her feet by Danni, who started to march her off in the opposite direction.

“Wait,” she found her words, “Wait, Danni,” she pleaded with him, looking over her shoulder, desperately wishing to speak with Prince Cuilin.

Sile laughed awkwardly, throwing up the bottle, and declared, “Let’s drink! Prince Cuilin, have you ever tried the General’s Baijuu? He...”

Sile’s voice grew softer and softer as Yinuo was pulled from the conversation. “Is it your leg? Yinuo, did you fall into the lake because of your leg?” Danni asked with urgency.

“No, I didn’t. I—Let go of me, Danni!” she pushed him off her.

“Sister! Please,” he blushed, looking away, “You’re top...”

Looking down, Yinuo saw that her entire top had turned transparent, revealing the outline of her undershirt. Overwhelmed, she quickly squatted, pulling Danni’s robe around her in an attempt to cover herself. “No, no, no,” she thought, panicking before rushing off to her room. Danni followed behind, but she slammed the door in his face and flung his robe out of the side window, hiding behind a curtain. Mortified, Yinuo hit her head a few times against the side of the wall, berating herself, before she heard her brother’s voice.

“Thank you for returning my zhiju!” he called. “Yinuo? Do you need me to get someone to help you dress?” Danni’s voice came through the door.

“Go away, Danni!” she cried back, sinking to the floor and shaking her head. Heavens, this wasn’t how she envisioned her “chance encounter” unfolding! Prince Cuilin was supposed to come rushing to her rescue, not witness her embarrassment! Frustrated with herself, Yinuo slid down against the wall. She tapped her head to the column a few more times. When she heard the door slide open, she panicked and covered herself, only to see her mother’s firm presence and her maid Yaolin, arms filled with cloth, entering her room.

“Stop that,” her mother ordered, snapping her fingers.

Yinuo covered her chest. “Mother, it was an accident!”

“I know it was an accident!” she snapped back.

Yinuo froze, certain she was about to get the lecture of a lifetime, when instead, her mother’s panicked voice set her off balance. “You...know?”

“You would not willingly shame your family like this, Yi’er!” her mother shouted at her. She marched over and pulled her up from the floor. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. It was an accident.”

“Y-Yeah,” she stumbled over the words.

“Are you trying to catch your death! Yaolin, help her change,” she ordered.

“Mother, I...”

“Enough,” her mother said again. She dragged her over to a chair and propped up her screen as Yaolin took her behind it to help her remove the wet clothes, change her into dry linens, and retie all the ribbons. When they’d finished, Yinuo wore a plain hanfu composed of a white cross top and red skirt.

Her mother sat at the other side of the room waiting, at Yinuo’s vanity, with a comb and a sour expression. She didn’t say anything to her daughter but motioned for her to sit in front of her on a cushion. Yinuo slid into her place with her bad leg out in front and her other bent at the knee in front of her mother’s chair. Gently, her mother’s hands reached to the sides of her long hair and let out the pins. She took a handful of her hair and, carefully in sections, began to brush it to the ends. As she combed, her mother did not say a word or even hum a tune. She simply focused on her task, with the air heavy filling the space between them, and Yinuo’s heart beating in her ears.

Yinuo looked to the golden mirror on the vanity, a luxury item her mother must have brought it in. Such an item was a privilege Yinuo rarely used, so she didn’t know her own reflection. However, what else could she have expected after falling into the pond? Yaolin handed her a towel to wipe the streaking black eyeliner from her face, while her mother picked at her hair.

“Aiyah,” her mother sighed, “What am I supposed to do with you, Yinuo?”

“Love me?” she suggested.

“Of course, my little one,” her mother sighed again. “Your father is still quite upset with you, little one, but I have spoken with him, and he’s more understanding now. You did not summon Prince Cuilin, and he will not be the last of your suitors.” Yinuo did not respond, waiting for her mother to finish her thoughts. “While other families are blessed with many beautiful daughters, you are my only one. So, your marriage offers a unique opportunity for others to connect with our family, namely Lord Yan’s resources. The man who marries you will gain your father’s ear and expect promotions in the court or even favors from others beneath him. You know this, child. There will be leeches, snakes, and crows who all come to feed, but your father and I have known this for a long time. We should have chosen a match for you when you were younger, Yinuo.”

“I wouldn’t have accepted it,” Yinuo murmured.

“I know, little one,” she replied with a softened tone, “I know...but what happens in the past can only linger in our memories. It cannot truly come back.”

Yinuo folded into herself, her head dropping to her knees as the weight of her mother’s words settled around her. Her mother was right. This need to speak with Cuilin was a falsehood. She had no desire to know who or what he was, but to use him. Yinuo longed for that missing connection and the essence of Dehai near her again. Any person who could fill the role, and why not a husband? Why not someone who’d be sworn to protect her and her future? She was a fool.

Dehai is dead.

“Your father and I discussed it. Until the wedding guests have left, we’re sending you to stay with my brother.”

“Uncle Gao?” Yinuo asked, surprised. “Mother, if I am with Uncle, how will I help—”

“This will help,” she interjected. “Uncle Gao will bring you to the wedding, and he’ll bring you back after the guests have left.”

“Mother, I will not—”

“Yinuo, you know better,” she firmly stated.

Yinuo shook her head, “Weixin and Danni will be gone by then! And who will welcome sister-in-law!”

“The decision is final. Yaolin has already packed you. I’ll dry your hair, and then you’ll pick up anything else you’ll need before you go. Be good for your uncle and see that you do not bother your brother Ruijian’s work.”

The finality in her voice made Yinuo recognize the futility of arguing with her parents. She firmed her stance and pushed off, stomping towards her bedroom, pausing for a moment before heading out towards the peony garden. She trusted Yaolin to pack her properly, but leaving was more to separate herself from her mother and avoid harsh words. Yinuo sighed when her mother’s voice called from the house, “Don’t wander too far! You’re leaving within the hour!”

“En. En!” Yinuo dismissed. Her mother gave her space, and she found herself wandering the grounds with her head down. She had to stop doing this to herself; it was torture to remember. It was torture to hope or even wish for something so impossible. And it made her feel just as heartless, trying to replace her childhood friend with a stranger. Yinuo pouted, arms folded and head down, not really knowing where she was going. When she looked up, she saw Dehai’s form sitting and drinking like an equal with her brothers. A brief bitterness of the wholesome moment soured her disposition. The gloss from the wine on Cuilin’s lips and a gentle smile led her to the scar on his chin. Violently, she shook her head. No, don’t do this, Yinuo! Don’t wish.