In the end, Commander Shen couldn’t bear to eat the phallus-shaped zongzi and carefully tucked it into his robe.
Meanwhile, in the courtroom, the officials from the Dali Temple and the Northern Surveillance Bureau were at their wits’ end.
Zhuo Qi’s death was not only sudden but also carried a tragic tone. If the story spread, embellished by rumors, it could become as infamous as the tales of Bi Gan’s heart being cut out or Wu Zixu’s eyes being gouged, a narrative they certainly did not want to see gaining traction.
Should they report this incident? When? And how?
These three core questions led to a fierce verbal duel between the commandant of the Embroidered Uniform Guard and the chief of the Dali Temple. The argument was short-lived, with the powerful and aggressive Embroidered Uniform Guard winning by a landslide.
Feng Que declared, “Tomorrow is the Dragon Boat Festival, and no one is to disturb the emperor’s holiday mood. All matters of ill-omen are to be reported after the festival. For now, freeze Zhuo Qi’s body. As for everyone here, keep your mouths shut. Anyone who reports this unauthorized will meet the same fate as Zhuo Qi!”
***
On the fifth day of the fifth lunar month, the palace was filled with a festive atmosphere. The royal family and their attendants wore embroidered robes with tiger symbols. Calamus and mugwort were placed outside the palace gates, and talismans with images of Daoist sword masters were hung on doors, just like New Year’s gate gods, to ward off evil for the month.
The emperor distributed Dragon Boat Festival gifts to his officials, and Su Yan received a set that included a bamboo-handled paper fan, a tiger-head sash in five colors, two five-colored staves wrapped in thread, and two tiger-and-insect drawings on paper.
Nothing valuable, just a token to spread good fortune and celebrate the occasion.
The crown prince personally prepared a bowl of garlic noodles and insisted that Su Yan eat it, claiming it would ward off evil.
Having been raised in luxury, the crown prince’s culinary skills were as expected, but Su Yan couldn’t refuse the well-meaning gesture. Holding his nose, he ate the noodles and even forced himself to praise their color, fragrance, and taste.
Zhu Helin propped his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his hands, watching Su Yan eat with great amusement.
“After this, we’re going to the East Garden for a game of polo. You should join and let me see your skills.”
Su Yan took a sip of tea to wash down the garlic noodles. “What skills do I have? Don’t make fun of me.”
Zhu Helin boasted, “Then let me show you mine. Last year, I won first place in the Dragon Boat Festival archery competition and received great praise from my Royal Father.”
“Then I wish Your Highness the laurel wreath again this year. I’ll be cheering for you from the sidelines.”
“What’s a ‘laurel wreath’?”
“It’s a wreath made of laurel branches, given to the winner. It’s a custom in Greece.”
“And what is Greece?”
“Uh, it’s a Western country. At this time, it would be called… Oh right, Hellas.”
So, during the ride to the East Garden, with nothing else to do, Su Yan told the crown prince the myth of Apollo and Daphne.
After hearing the story, Zhu Helin was incredulous. “Is Daphne stupid? She’s just the daughter of a river god, and she refused a strong, handsome sun god, choosing to become a laurel tree instead?”
“But she had the freedom to choose whether to marry. In other words, just like in our empire, even if the emperor pursues a woman, she should have the right to refuse,” Su Yan tried to explain to the young crown prince the concept of personal freedom.
“Pursue?” Zhu Helin scoffed. “That’s called grace. If the emperor favors a woman and wants her as his consort, it’s a fortune she’s worked for over lifetimes. Who would dare say no? Wouldn’t she be afraid of being executed for defying an imperial decree, with her whole family wiped out?”
Su Yan: “…” Am I being foolish, trying to talk about natural human rights and free will with a feudal ruler?
He gave a perfunctory bow. “What Your Highness says is indeed correct.”
“Tsk, but why do I feel like you’re not really agreeing in your heart?” Zhu Helin leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of Su Yan’s expression.
The carriage suddenly jolted, and Su Yan tumbled forward, his teeth slamming hard into the Crown Prince’s lips.
The Crown Prince clutched the corner of his mouth, letting out a loud cry of pain.
The Embroidered Uniform Guard guards riding outside immediately knocked on the carriage window. “Is everything alright, Your Highness?”
Zhu Helin, his voice strained, replied, “I’m fine.”
Su Yan, feeling guilty, pulled his hand away to check the wound. “It’s not too bad, just a small cut with a little blood.”
Zhu Helin was irritated. “This crown prince has a body worth a fortune, and you’re calling this ‘just a small cut’? Bring me a mirror, quickly!”
Su Yan found a small Western glass mirror from the storage box in the carriage, as clear as any modern mirror, and handed it to him.
Zhu Helin stared at the cut on his lip in dismay. “If Royal Father sees this, he’ll say I’m being reckless again… Hey, why do I feel like this cut is very similar to the one on your lips?”
“Nonsense.” Su Yan instinctively touched his lips, which were already scabbed and nearly healed—barely noticeable unless you looked closely.
Zhu Helin, using a clean handkerchief to wipe away the blood, stared at Su Yan suspiciously. “Did you bump into someone too? Who did this to you?”
… Can we please move on from this topic? Su Yan, exasperated, slumped into his arm. “Don’t talk to me, I’m getting motion sickness!”
—
The Eastern Garden, a favored retreat for emperors through the ages, was built with serene elegance.
The grand halls shimmered, pavilions dotted the landscape, strange rock formations towered amid flourishing flora, and a spring-fed pond sat at the center. A jade dragon spouted water like a waterfall, an exquisite feat of craftsmanship.
The archery competition was held in front of the Longde Hall, near a ring of green river, which had already been carefully arranged by the guards. Pigeons and smaller birds were placed in gourds and wooden boxes, suspended from the gently swaying willow branches. Arrows were shot, and if the box opened and released the birds unharmed, it counted as a victory.
As per tradition, the princes, noblemen, and ministers all had to take turns shooting, with the one who opened the most boxes winning.
The emperor’s golden throne was placed in a pavilion near the field. When Su Yan followed the crown prince to greet him, Emperor Jinglong was already seated with Imperial Concubine Wei.
Imperial Concubine Wei, pregnant for nine months and due within a month, was supposed to stay in the palace to rest. However, she insisted on coming, claiming the palace was stifling and that she needed fresh air. The imperial physician also mentioned that it was good for expectant mothers to walk around, so the emperor allowed it, doubling the number of attendants assigned to her.
After the crown prince paid their respects, the emperor noticed the cut lip and asked, “Your lip is injured too? Are you over heated too?”
The crown prince awkwardly wiped at his mouth. Behind him, Su Yan suppressed a laugh.
The emperor glanced at Su Yan warningly and said indifferently, “Sit down, bestow the alcohol.”
The alcohol was the traditional festival calamus alcohol, infused with cinnabar and realgar. Su Yan drank it with a grimace, his tongue sticking out, but he had no choice but to down it in one gulp.
Zhu Helin still held a grudge against him for causing a cut on his lip, making him lose face in front of the Emperor. Seizing the chance, he poured Su Yan another large cup and watched him drink it all, leaving the scene only after a triumphant smirk.
Though young, Zhu Helin was strong and energetic, with a love for martial arts. His archery skills, honed under the guidance of renowned masters, were extraordinarily accurate. Mounted on horseback, he shot consecutively at fifteen targets without a single miss, scattering flocks of startled birds into the sky.
Turning back, he winked at Su Yan with a flaunting air.
The effects of the alcohol hit Su Yan hard, making Zhu Helin appear slightly blurry.
In fact, it wasn’t just the Crown Prince who seemed indistinct—so did Yu Wang, along with various imperial relatives, court officials, and nobles present. Their outlines all seemed faint and unreal to him.
Emperor Jinglong noticed Su Yan’s flushed cheeks and dazed expression and chuckled, “Only two cups, and Su Shidu can’t hold his liquor? That’s quite a lightweight.”
Su Yan wanted to explain to the Emperor that he had motion sickness and had earlier eaten a bowl of half-cooked noodles that left him nauseated. Otherwise, his alcohol tolerance would be much better. Unfortunately, he couldn’t muster the words and could only wave his hand to indicate his incapacity.
Imperial Concubine Wei picked up a festive pomegranate flower from the table, her dainty fingers, painted with carmine polish, rubbing the petals repeatedly until the flower was crushed into a lump of red mush. She tossed it to the ground with casual indifference and said, “Why not let Su Shidu take a turn shooting willows? It’ll stretch his limbs and clear his head of the alcohol.”
Without waiting for the Emperor’s reply, she signaled a nearby attendant to help Su Yan down from the pavilion.
The cool breeze by the river sobered Su Yan up somewhat. A nearby officer handed him a bow and arrows.
Taking the bow, Su Yan stood still, drew the bowstring, and aimed for a long while before moving closer to the target. Only then did he release the arrow.
The arrow wobbled erratically in flight, appearing as if it would fall into the river. Yet, somehow, it struck the largest and lowest wooden box hanging from the willow tree.
The officer responsible for scoring shouted, “Bullseye!” A few moments later, he added in confusion, “Why aren’t the pigeons flying out?”
Climbing the tree, the officer opened the box and pulled out a pigeon—dead, with an arrow piercing its body.
The crowd erupted in laughter.
Imperial Concubine Wei covered her mouth with her sleeve, giggling, “Others aim for the box, but he hit the bird inside. A clean shot through the heart—remarkably precise in its own way.”
Embarrassed, Su Yan muttered, “Let me try again.” He fired three more arrows in succession.
Each shot claimed the life of another bird, their gruesome ends drawing sympathetic winces from onlookers.
Emperor Jinglong sighed, “Are you shooting willows or committing carnage? Enough. Come back—whatever reward you want, I’ll grant it.”
“I truly don’t know how to shoot,” Su Yan said, abandoning the bow and apologizing as he returned to the pavilion.
Emperor Jinglong remarked, “From the way you drew the bow just now, it was obvious. Since today gathers many experts, choose one to be your teacher. I’ll order them to train you until you’ve mastered the skill.”
“I’ll teach him!” Zhu Helin immediately volunteered.
The Emperor shot him a disapproving glare, disliking the lack of decorum in the Crown Prince’s eagerness. However, a deep, resonant voice interjected with a chuckle, “Your Majesty, I humbly volunteer. At the recent banquet of honor, Su Shidu and I discussed poetry and philosophy, finding much in common. We later played chess in quiet retreat, regarding each other as confidants. It would be a fitting extension of our camaraderie to now learn archery together—an echo of the famed friendship between Boya and Ziqi.”
Upon hearing the rich, velvety voice, Su Yan was instantly reminded of the brick that had nearly smacked his face under the peach blossom tree. Instinctively, he took a wary step back. “Don’t even go there. I barely know His Highness Yu Wang; calling us confidants is a stretch.”
Yu Wang wasn’t angered by this public rebuff. Instead, he shamelessly replied, “Is Qinghe worried that an outer official associating too closely with royalty might provoke suspicion? Rest assured, my elder brother, the Emperor, is magnanimous and kind-hearted. He wouldn’t hold such a thing against you.”
He turned to the Emperor and asked, “Am I right, elder brother?”
Emperor Jinglong’s expression remained placid as he replied calmly, “Fourth Brother speaks well. Since that’s the case, I’ll leave Su Shidu in your hands for half a day. Let’s see how much he can learn.”
Yu Wang gave a casual bow and, with one arm holding his bow and arrows and the other wrapping around Su Yan’s arm, said, “The grove behind the pavilion is peaceful—perfect for archery practice.” Ignoring Su Yan’s reluctant expression, he pulled him off the field.
