‘Three,’ Xi Qian’e asked, ‘are you alright?’

  The cold winter breeze blew through her wet clothes, the chill sticking to her skin.

  ‘I’m not hurt,’ she said. ‘Only my neck is bruised.’ Her fingers pressed at the acupoints on her neck — though her muscles grew stiff, the pain began to fade. The effect would’ve been better if she had more qi in her, or perhaps a few needles.

  ‘That’s good.’ A pause. ‘But that’s not what I meant.’

  The ke’s surface, once disturbed by the tumble of corpses, had now stilled. It had a dark, almost obsidian-like look to it, with a hazy moon shrouded by the drifting reflections of willow trees.

  ‘I know what my name is,’ she suddenly said. ‘I don’t want to be just “Three” anymore.’ She didn’t wait for Xi Qian’e’s reply when she said, ‘It’s “Hu Yingliu”, meaning, “the ke that reflects the willows”.’

  Xi Qian’e’s lips lifted into a soft curve. ‘That’s a good name.’

  ‘I know.’

  She repeated to herself, ‘I’m Hu Yingliu. I’m Hu Yingliu.’ A smile forced it way onto her face. ‘I’m Hu Yingliu.’

  She ughed and ughed and ughed.

  Then she screamed out to the ke, ‘I’M HU YINGLIU!’

  She was wrapped in warmth.

  Hugging her, Xi Yu whispered, ‘Ah-Liu.’ Then with a giggle, those soft lips pressed against her ear. ‘Mm. You’re Hu Yingliu, my Ah-Liu.’

  She stood on her toes to print a kiss onto Xi Yu’s nose. ‘You’ll soon be an emperor, my princess. I’ll make sure of that.’

  And in the dark of the night, it began to snow.

  *

  The twin princes’ deaths came as a great shock to the imperial court.

  Immediately after the news, the various ministers of the court scrambled to support either the Third Princess or Sixth Prince. They were offered shelter in more than a few homes, but when the blind Prince Qianzhong invited them back to the Pace of Gentle Snow, all offers fell silent.

  ‘I’m back, Father.’

  Prince Qianzhong didn’t have much of a reaction; he merely nodded, rapping his cane on the ground. ‘Your room has been cleaned. Your guard may use the adjoining servant’s room.’

  ‘I see.’

  Xi Qian’e strode across the white bridge. Her reflection shimmered in the ke’s frozen surface, stray plum blossom petals drifting across.

  Three, walking mute after her master, pushed away the clumps of snow with her feet; the red hem of her skirt seemed to glow against the white.

  ‘Child.’

  The princess stopped, head not turning. ‘Yes, Father?’

  ‘Will you kill Chanzui?’

  ‘…I likely will have to.’

  ‘Spare him.’ The prince’s face was paler than fish scales — it was as if what ran in his veins wasn’t hot blood but rather ice water. His white complexion came not from fear or concern, Three knew, but instead from a strange concoction of anger, grief, and apathy that even his children couldn’t warm. ‘At least until the Winter Solstice Festival.’

  ‘…That’s tomorrow night,’ Xi Qian’e said. ‘You aren’t asking for much, Father.’

  ‘Naturally. I can’t ask you to die, could I?’ The prince chuckled, ‘You love your life. A trait that Ah-Rong could never learn.’

  Xi Qian’e didn’t answer. She only said, ‘Let’s go, Chicken Feet.’

  ‘Alright.’

  They walked from bridge to bridge, from pavilion to pavilion. Sometimes, Hu Yingliu would stoop down to poke the ice through the wooden bars — the thin yers would shatter, water spilling out to wet her fingertips. Each time, Xi Yu would wait for her, never rushing her.

  She plucked out a few petals from the water and stood up. Leaning over, a hand clinging to Xi Yu’s shoulder, she sprinkled them onto the top of the other’s hair. ‘You look good in colour,’ she said. ‘I didn’t know plum blossoms bloomed this early. I thought they bloomed just before spring.’

  ‘They do.’ Xi Yu’s hand pressed onto the top of her head, a hand running through her hair. ‘The Dowager Empress once felt that flowers were best admired whilst enduring snow; thus, these plum trees were bred to bloom at the beginning of winter. But because of that, they wither before they can meet spring.’

  The princess’s smile turned a little sad. ‘Those branches will never know the touch of a swallow’s feet.’

  Hu Yingliu only said, ‘Perhaps the flowers love the snow.’

  ‘But they grew in it. Having never known spring, how could they know the warmth of a gentle life?’

  And to that, Three had no reply.

  *

  To celebrate the winter solstice, the annual festival was held in the rgest of the imperial gardens, with every noble family and official invited to attend.

  The pce was a complex zy streams, open-air pavilions and pagodas on the top of a mountain; it was as though the mountain peak had been lopped off by some angry immortal, a carved minority among its steeper neighbours.

  Strung between the golden roofs and pine trees were countless red stings, all weaving a gorgeous net over the starry sky. Lanterns, golden and inked with cinnabar, hung from that blood-twine, outshining the purple and blue hues above.

  Below the dazzling lights y a full banquet, the rich scents of savoury and sweet alike mingling with the earthy tones of pine-leaf incense and sugared desserts. It was a generous array of food, with dishes from both the North and South, catering to all the culinary traditions across the empire.

  If it weren’t for the fish and seafood, it would have been the banquet of her dreams.

  Even from so far away, Hu Yingliu’s mouth already watered. ‘Hey, Xi Yu. Can I —’

  Bemused, the princess waved a hand with a smile, ‘Go for it.’

  She sprinted through the path, but halfway she couldn’t help but stop. Turning around, the red hem of her skirt swinging like unfurling petals, she called, ‘Will you come?’

  Xi Yu smirked, ‘Naturally. What, you expect me to just watch you eat?’

  She smiled. It went from ear to ear.

  Running to a chair at the table, she plucked a bowl and pair of chopsticks off a passing maid. Snapping up a glistening duck leg, she dug right in, almost inhaling everything down.

  The rich saltiness of the tender flesh filled her mouth with a wave of fatty grease and a stinging heat. The skin and meat were pulled right off the bone without even a shred of tissue left.

  Good heavens.

  Her eyes couldn’t help but widen.

  This is my reason for living.

  ‘…Chicken Feet, you might choke like that.’

  ‘I won’t,’ she said, wolfing down a pte of braised chicken feet. Then, she immediately tackled a pile of tripe. ‘Xi Yu, won’t you eat anything?’

  The princess leaned over and clipped a bit of pickled cabbage with her chopsticks. ‘Just this.’ She wore a blue qixiong ruqun, very one once worn under the capital’s glowing moon. The sleeves fluttered like butterfly wings.

  ‘I’m surprised you even came today,’ Hu Yingliu said. ‘After all, you’re in mourning — don’t you need to abstain from celebrations for three years?’

  ‘I do, but the emperor leaves my family no choice; officially, we can’t mourn for a… treasonous traitor.’ Xi Yu turned away, nodding to the ghostly Prince Qianzhong under the nterns, ‘Even my father came, didn’t he?’

  ‘Xi Yu,’ Three couldn’t help but say, ‘about your mother —’

  ‘Shadow Three,’ a cold voice called, ‘know your pce.’

  That voice — icy, ft, unforgiving like the dark ocean — struck her like a bolt. She didn’t need to think as she leapt off the chair and smmed to the ground in a kneel, sweat beading across her forehead as her heart pounded louder than thunder. ‘Head Shadow,’ she trembled, ‘Shadow Guard Three extends her greetings!’

  Her pulse, a deafening throbbing in her ears, thudded with a dizzying force; only her instincts, her trained habit kept her muscles locked in pce, holding that perfect kneel. Too terrified to glimpse the head shadow’s face, her gaze was kept locked on the towering woman’s shoes, the bck silks and the embroidered white luan birds that never seemed to be anything less than pristine. The hem of that dress was woven with writhing grey snakes, the outlines of trampling birds’ cws fluttering in and out of her sight.

  She struggled to swallow back her fear.

  ‘Where is your uniform?’

  ‘…It was destroyed,’ she said. ‘I wanted to wear this skirt for the festival —’

  ‘You do not want of anything,’ the head shadow hissed. ‘Remember, Three. The next Ripening Ceremony will be under your supervision, immediately after the next heir is crowned.’ The head shadow sighed, ‘Do not allow my daughter to sneak in again.’

  Her lips fluttered. ‘Yes, Head.’

  She didn’t mention that the other’s daughter, the young miss, was already dead.

  And that the st Three, the one who’d let the miss sneak into the Ripening Ceremony so many years ago, had been strangled to death.

  By that very same young miss.