Page 77
“I grant you the Crimson Lion Talisman.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “Ask a favor for yourself and we will grant it, as long as it’s in our power to do so.”
An attendant rushed up to him, bearing a black lacquered tray. The emperor placed the talisman upon it, the attendant now advancing toward me with measured steps, stopping before me to offer up the tray. My hands were stiff as I took the jade, staring at it numbly. A lion was carved in its center, its bulbous eyes and curling mane chiseled with exquisite detail. From its base, hung a thick tassel of gold silk.
The emperor’s voice rumbled through the chamber, yet I only caught snatches of what he said. My heart slammed until I thought it might burst forth. Had I heard him correctly? Was this really the Crimson Lion Talisman? He spoke so coolly, as though what he offered was just a common parcel of land or a chest of gold. As though this was not the fulfillment of my greatest dream, which I had all but given up on!
Glancing up, I found the emperor staring at me expectantly. Did he expect joyous weeping, or proclamations of eternal gratitude? Certainly not this yawning silence, my sudden trepidation robbing me of voice. I had only one wish . . . and it was not one which would please him.
“Do you need time to think this through?” A sharpness jutted through his tone—impatience, perhaps. Or was it a warning not to overstep myself?
Fear assailed me that I might lose this chance. The words surged up my throat, flying out in a strangled gasp, “My mother!”
A hush swept across the crowd. I drew a shaking breath, trying to steady my jangled nerves. “My wish is for Your Celestial Majesty to free my mother.” I spoke slower this time, as clearly as I could.
The empress’s eyes curved as a predator’s claws. “Your mother? Who might that be?”
The malice in her tone gave me pause. My wish would undoubtedly incite their fury. Their Celestial Majesties would hate to appear the fool, deceived by the powerless Moon Goddess for all these years. What if I revealed all, only to have them deny my request and inflict greater punishment upon her?
I dropped to my knees again, bending my head. “Your Celestial Majesty, my mother did not ask this of me. This is all my own doing. I humbly ask for your assurance that she will not be punished for my actions, or for anything I reveal today.”
“How dare you make demands of us!” the empress hissed.
The air thickened with a sudden chill. If I were a common petitioner, the emperor might have sentenced me to imprisonment—or worse—for my temerity. Yet the jade clutched in my fist reminded me that I had earned the right to speak today through my blood, sweat, and tears.
“Very well,” the emperor said in an icy tone. “You have my word that your mother will be safe. However, you yourself will have no such protection should we discover that you have offended us in any way. You will answer for your own actions.”
His threat sapped my courage. An urge to slink away gripped me, to slip into the shadows and be forgotten. Though we were parted, my mother and I were safe for now. Unharmed. Was I greedy, reaching for more than I should? But I recalled what Wenzhi had whispered to me once, when I first stood here facing the jade thrones as I did today.
When the battle lines are drawn, advance with a clear mind.
Somehow, I had done it; I had won the talisman. Never again would I get a chance like this. I would not be a coward now, not after everything I had done to get here. A rush of emotion coursed through me as I found the words nestled deep in my heart, the ones I had whispered to myself each night before I slept, before I awakened each dawn.
“My mother is Chang’e. I am the daughter of the Moon Goddess.”
The whispers began, faint rustles gathering into gasps, fervent mutterings accompanied by the nervous shuffling of feet. Liwei’s eyes went wide, his jaw clenched tight, while Wenzhi’s lips were drawn into a thin line. Those who knew me best, those who trusted me most, those I had kept in the dark. How betrayed they must feel by my confession.
“The Moon Goddess?” The empress spat each word. “If Chang’e is your mother, who is your father?”
Fear clouded my heart, like ink billowing from a brush dipped into water. My father had killed the sunbirds, her beloved kin. But my anger at her crude insinuation prodded me into raising my chin to meet her gaze, to speak with less care and more pride than I should have.
“My father is my mother’s husband, the mortal archer Houyi.”
The moment those words were spoken aloud, the tension knotted deep inside me for all these years unraveled. A lightness swept through me, a rush of freedom in acknowledging my parents. I had not realized the weight of this burden until now. Yet beyond my fierce relief and pride, there was no glory in the unveiling of my identity. I had been pitied before for my lack of family and connections—but in the eyes of this court, it was worse by far to be tarnished by association with those who were disgraced.
Fury mottled the empress’s fair skin. Her knuckles were white, the gold sheaths on her fingers digging into the armrest of her throne.
The Celestial Emperor broke the stillness first. “Explain yourself.” His tone was grim and the way he looked at me . . . it reminded me of the moment when Liwei plunged his sword through my chest.
All knew the tale of the ten sunbirds. But none knew the truth behind the Moon Goddess’s ascension to immortality. To the hostile audience hanging on to my every word, I retold the story I had heard once before. The danger to my mother’s life and mine. Her heartbreaking choice. The terror that had led her to conceal my existence. I could not help the tears pricking my eyes, when I spoke of the sorrow which had haunted my mother every day of her immortal life.
When I finished, I pressed my brow to the jade tiles again, swallowing my pride and resentment for this chance to be heard. “For all these years, my mother has been a prisoner, living in loneliness and misery. She took the elixir to save our lives. She was unaware that she had broken any rule, how could a mortal know such a thing? I plead for Your Celestial Majesties’ mercy and understanding, to forgive my mother’s transgression and lift her punishment. This is the favor I ask for.”
I raised myself, placing my shaking palms upon my folded knees. My gaze collided with the Celestial Emperor’s, utterly unmoved by my heartfelt plea.
The empress pointed a finger at me, almost convulsing with rage. “Such deceit cannot be tolerated. This family line, from Chang’e and Houyi to this . . . this girl is a treacherous one, riddled with lies, duplicity, ingratitude. It should be ended at once.”
The glorious hope that had sprung up a moment ago, shriveled and died. Yet silence greeted the empress’s words. There were no enthusiastic cries of support, only a few nodded—and for that I was grateful.
Someone strode out from the side, sinking to the floor to perform his obeisance. A courtier, I could tell, from his ceremonial hat and black robe, and the yellow jade ornament dangling from his waist sash. A high-ranking one to be positioned so close to the thrones, though I could not see his face from where he knelt in front of me.
