#Chinese #English #Hisorical

© Tad_Lestrange

The Empress and I grew up together.

I was six years old when Teacher picked me up from the streets, with a dislike for talking and a penchant for sitting blankly all day. Back then, I was thin and small, and also very pale, like a porcelain piece that had never seen the sun. Teacher had the impression that I was the studying sort, so he named me ‘Wang Yibo’ – of broad knowledge.

Half a year later, I grew used to the environment, and could no longer withstand sitting around all day. I took the chance, when Teacher nodded off, to jump over the walls of the academy, into the wild mountains outside, spending a few nights with the flowers, birds, fish, and snakes there. Apparently, a lot of people in the academy said that there was an eighty percent chance I had perished in the mountains. But I jumped back over the walls of the academy after a few days, on a night that was much too cold to sleep outdoors in, landing in the middle of the courtyard, covered entirely in dirt, and scared a maidservant in the midst of her midnight tryst half to death.

Teacher, who witnessed the endless number of times I fell asleep at the writing desk, stopped forcing me to study. He sent me to learn kungfu from his close friend instead.

I spent two years with Master. Then he brought me back to the academy for a visit, told Teacher that I was a prodigy at the martial arts; studying would have been a waste of my talents, he said. Picking up his most precious teacup, Teacher took a sip of tea so fragrant that I, sitting two metres away, could smell. He asked Master, am I still averse as I was to talking, this past half year? Smiling, Master replied, not talking is good. As a person of the jianghu, I must understand the principle that misfortune comes from the mouth, so by not talking, I’ve already saved myself from half of the trouble.

I sat there, listening to them, and it didn’t take long before I started nodding off. A girl who looked to be a few years older than me entered from the outside.

I hadn’t seen many girls in my life. She must be the prettiest that I’ve ever seen.

Behind the girl was a nobleman. I stood up and bowed to them, then found another nondescript corner to continue napping in.

The orioles in the academy courtyard sing beautifully. Teacher has never consciously tamed them, but they frequent the academy still. Mrs Teacher feeds them millet, sometimes. When I first arrived here, I fed them, too – I get along quite well with the birds here.

I did not understand the things they talked about – perhaps it was because my focus was placed entirely on the birds in the courtyard. I only heard Master’s characteristic, boisterous laughter.  He was singing my praises to Teacher, and even to that nobleman, and the pretty miss.

From that day forward, the little miss stayed at the academy. I didn’t go back, either – Master left me behind to train with the various disciples there. As for Miss, she stayed in her room, learning the scholarly pursuits – the qin, reading, calligraphy, painting – as well as poetry and singing.

There were many boys in the academy. They perched on the walls, watched me secretly as I trained – then ran off to find Miss, and tried to show off what they’d seen, though they often made fools of themselves. Miss, who is not a talkative person, just smiled benignly at them with no trace of mockery whatsoever.

They became more audacious as a result.

They’d smuggle erotica into the academy, then discuss it at secretive corners, out of Teacher’s sight. Sometimes, they dragged me along. They asked me, what kind of girls do you like. I shook my head. Then they said, I could pick from any of the maidservants that Miss brought along. I shook my head again.

I don’t have any interest in girls, like the girls in the erotica they had. Not Miss, even – all I thought, when I first saw her, was that she looked pretty.

They said that I should be ordained as a monk.



Once, I spent the night in the mountains with Master – the academy courtyard had long ceased to further my martial skills. I was sound asleep in the dead of night when Master seized me, and tried to hurl me into the waterfall that I often caught fish in. My brain did not catch up to the actions of my hands until much later, and by the time I realized what happened, Master had already vanished, tossed into the roaring spray by me.

I did not look for him. I sat on a damp rock, waited for him to come up. He gave me a big thumbs up.

He often praised me in front of others, but never to my face. This was the first time.



“All martial artists should have a goal in life. Do you?” Master asked me.

I shook my head. I had no goal. I do not wish to be the best, or learn some unequalled martial skill, nor do I wish to marry and have children. I will learn whatever Master teaches me, and I will follow whatever Master arranges for me.

“Before you discover your goal, go and protect Miss. Guard her from harm.”

I nodded, said yes.

I was fifteen that year. Miss was seventeen – tall, slender, elegant. Perhaps it was due to my martial training, but I grew very fast, surpassing almost every other boy in the academy. My skin was still impossibly pale, though, even though I spent so much time in the mountains under the sun.

Someone once asked me – Miss is as beautiful as a fairy, who do you think she will be married to?

I continued gazing at the orioles in the courtyard, listening to their trills, then replied, blandly, I don’t know.

“It matters not who she will marry. I will follow.”



Master gave me some money, told me to leave. I was to return two years from now, alive.

I thought it was a rite of passage for all martial artists; I did not expect to find people trying to kill me the moment I stepped out from the mountain. I was masked, so they did not know what my face looked like – but they recognized the jade pendant hanging from my waist. It was a gift from Master, I was not to remove it.

I travelled to the city. I saw the notices stuck on the wall, then, and realized that Master had sent out a call – whoever managed to acquire the head of this jade pendant’s owner will be rewarded with one hundred taels of gold.

I looked at the few dozen taels of silver hanging from the pouch at my waist, and wondered how I was to survive two years with it.

Gradually, I became somewhat of a legend in the jianghu. They say that whoever kills me will attain a vast amount of riches. The price on my head grew from one hundred taels to ten thousand. I wondered if Master himself heard about these rumours, regretted the price he’d set; Master does not look like he has ten thousand taels of gold to spare.  

A gang of people tried to corner me at an inn, but I jumped through a few open windows and shook them off easily. Perched at the window of the inn opposite, I watched as they upended the inn in the chaos, watched as the owner knelt on the ground, crying. Privately, I felt somewhat sorry for him. I planned to come back later with the gold I had taken from some other gang that tried to kill me yesterday, I will give him an ingot as compensation.

A thread of coolness appeared at my throat. I dared not move. The sharp edge of the blade rested directly on my pulse; if the person is martially-trained, and exerted just that bit of force… my two-year training period will end eighty days early, and Master, unable to produce ten thousand taels of gold, might actually be forced to kill himself instead.

But the message that blade conveyed to me was this – its owner does not know kungfu. In fact, its owner is sickly, possibly an invalid. Unconcerned, I turned my head.

“Morning.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a grin. Except for that voice from his throat, he did not appear solid or present at all. Small wonder I did not hear his breathing.

His clothes were made of the finest silk, its embroidery incontestably exquisite. His hair was pulled up in a meticulous style. There was not a single out-of-place strand obscuring a face that I could not turn away from.

I felt, then, that Miss was no longer the most beautiful person that I’d ever seen.

“Am I about to immediately acquire ten thousand taels of gold?” He bent his head slightly, asked me.

Some blood had already seeped out from my neck, rolling down the slope of his knife blade. He withdrew it, picked up a white square handkerchief from the table, wiped it clean. Then he carelessly tossed the blood-stained fabric back onto the table.

Someone called to him from the outside, they said, my Prince, it is time to depart.

He turned around, handed me the knife. I said, I usually use a sword.

“Take it and protect yourself. Don’t get caught again – your head is a lot more valuable than this knife.”

He left right after I accepted the blade. I put it at my waist, next to the jade pendant.



Eighty days flew by quickly. The reward redemption period was two years long, and the scores of people who wanted to kill me brooded about it until their eyes grew red. But I do not like killing people – they had no argument with me, all they wanted was the money. In the end, I had no choice. The amount of skilled attackers grew day by day; if I didn’t kill them, I would be the one dying instead.

The last eighty days covered my hands with blood. When I returned to the academy, Master was waiting for me at the entrance. He handed me a piece of cloth, and I wiped away the blood before I entered, so that I would not scare Miss.

That was when I remembered the white handkerchief, hidden at my chest. I had washed away the blood on it. Initially, I had wanted to wrap it around the knife that the Prince gave me, but I changed my mind after I felt its fine, soft weave. This sort of white, smooth, and yet, cool sensation felt as if it was the Prince’s skin. I had never touched it, so I could only imagine. I thought, it must feel like this.

After that, I placed the handkerchief inside the pocket at my chest. I wanted to warm it, at least, not wrap the blade with it.

I saw Miss again, after two years. She smiled at me, I bowed – neither of us have ever been the type to talk. With me around, she said, she would feel very secure when she gets married next time.

There will always be people who think that there is something between us, but I think she is even more of an empty shell than I am.

“I will protect Miss.”

But then she said to me, I am sorry.

I did not understand her meaning until the next morning. Master told me that Miss is to marry into the palace, marry the Emperor.

Then, I understood. I may not be able to step out of that palace for many years to come. But I did not mind. If Master hadn’t sent me away, I wouldn’t have left the mountain. Like the orioles in the courtyard, I was simply unwilling to fly.

“His Majesty’s wedding… will the Prince be there?”

Master did not expect that my longstanding silence would be broken by such an irrelevant question. But he did not question it; he simply nodded his head, said that all the relatives of the Emperor should be there.

I gripped that handkerchief, took my leave. Packed my belongings, accompanied Miss to the family manor, and awaited the day she is to be wed.

Actually, all I brought was my sword, and that knife. Worried that the knife blade will blunt over time, I fashioned a sheath for it. The handkerchief I folded neatly, and placed it back at my chest.