‘Gang,’ I say, taking his tile to create a set of four. Which conveniently skips Lord Bai.
The muscle in Lord Bai’s jaw twitches. Lord Black and Lord Vermilion snigger.
On the next round, when Lord Vermilion discards, I smile sweetly and say, ‘Pong,’ taking his tile to create a set of three. Which, oh my, conveniently skips Lord Bai again.Take that, you overgrown lizard.
Lord Black has completely stopped any pretensions of actually playing the game, all he does is waggle his eyebrows at Lord Vermilion whenever Lord Bai clenches his jaw, sniffs, or huffs. It dawns on me that they’re baiting Lord Bai.
On the heels of that thought, my vision blurs. I’m no longer in the Hall of Harmony, but standing by the edge of a sparkling lake where birdsong and chirping insects accompany the gentle lapping of waves against a pebbled shore.
Four boys rush here and there, searching the ground. Their pale blue robes sport double layered jiaoling cross-collars – a deep blue inner robe beneath a crisp white outer lapel embroidered with silver dragons. A high bun secured by a gold hair coronet shows off each boy’s sharp widows peak and distinctive aquiline nose. These must be the four dragon uncles as children.
The boys gather in the shade of a nearby tree and show each other their finds. The first boy holds up four dull grey stones, each with a big hole worn right through the middle. He places the rings on his thumb, so high the fourth ring completely hides his thumb, and gently blows on them.
Luminous flames, the crisp, clear blue of a cloudless spring sky, engulf the rings, turning the once dull stones lustrous and translucent. The boys whoop in delight as each stone flashes a different colour: sky blue, inky black, vermilion, and snow white. The second brother holds up his hand, cradling a single lustrous stone, pitch black, round as a pearl, big as a fist. The boys nod in appreciation. The third boy waves a blood bright stone resembling a gnarled old branch, full of interesting hollows and holes, which garners a wave of giggles. The fourth boy looks down at the pristine white stone in his hands, luminous and smooth, but compared to his brothers’ finds, rather unexceptional. His mouth twists with dissatisfaction.
‘I am the eldest,’ he says. Given the pompous manner, I’d wager the child to be Lord Bai. ‘Therefore I’m the most important. You will give me your stones.’
The other boys shake their heads. Lord Bai tries to take the vermilion spirit stone, but the boy is too quick and jumps out of his reach. The same happens when he tries to take the black pearl-like stone. Lord Bai turns to the last brother with the four rings. This brother doesn’t run away, but watches calmly as Lord Bai approaches.
‘Wait, Jun,’ the boy says. He blows on the rings, azure flames rising once more. Within the fire, the colours curl and eddy like frolicking dragons. The four rings slowly meld into one.
Lord Bai stares in astonishment, then his gaze hardens with greed. ‘I want—’
His brother interrupts him. ‘I chose these four stones so I could create this ring. For you,’ the boy says. ‘White for you, Jun, black for Ming, red for Qin, and blue for me, so you have us close to you, always. Our family bond is sacred, eternal and unbreakable.’ He plucks the ring from his thumb and slides it onto Lord Bai’s.
Lord Bai blinks at his hand, surprise, embarrassment, remorse, and tenderness flitting across his face. He bows his head. ‘Contain my apologies, Didi. I—’
‘Zijiren,’ the boy says, waving away his brother’s apologies. ‘We are bound by the bonds of family, Jun’ – the boy’s smile is a bittersweet mix of resignation and forbearance – ‘whether we like it or not. I will always choose to honour our bond; I hope my gift encourages you to do the same.’
The vision disappears and I’m back in the Hall of Harmony. Lord Black holds a finger to his lips and winks. Did he send me that vision? Was that dragon sight?
This year’s crew of hulijing ministers totter over to our table. I can’t tell them apart – they all sport the jewelled-hairpin-studded triple-loop buns much favoured by deities; multi-layered robes in the softest shades of peach and plum and pink silk gauze over tight bodices; and ta-tas teetering on the edge of busting from their silk confines. I eye each gleaming cleavage and shake my head. Despite spending my early years in the Hulijing Court, I still have no idea how they manage to show so much without the slightest shadow of nip.
They offer the dragon uncles the required bow and courtesy greeting. To me they offer a nod, enough that the greeting isn’t disrespectful, but not quite enough to be respectful, either. In contrast, the hulijing ministers titter and flit around Lord Aengus like drunken swallows.
‘Brother Yang, let’s have tea soon!’
‘Brother Yang, what blue eyes you have!’
‘Brother Yang, your Mandarin is so good!’
Gag.
Lord Black smirks at me, while Lord Vermilion chuckles. ‘Ming didn’t exaggerate, you are very entertaining, Lady Jing.’
‘Mmmgh.’ I pick a tile and discard it without a glance.
With the three of us simply going through the motions, the game moves quickly. Lord Vermilion discards a red Zhong. Lord Bai snatches the tile, but in a sudden flurry of movement, Lord Black pins Lord Bai’s wrist to the table.
Lord Bai tries, and fails, to pull his arm free. He glares at his brother. ‘What is the meaning of this, Ming?’
‘Hu.’ Lord Black plucks the tile from Lord Bai’s fingers. To his final pair he adds the red Zhong, the character for equilibrium.
‘Ming, you couldn’t let me win? I was one tile away!’ Lord Bai shoves his chair away from the table.
‘Surprise is what makes life fun, Qin,’ Lord Black says. ‘Wouldn’t you say, Little Jing?’
Indeed. I bow low to the dragon uncles.
