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The Heart of the White Dragon

A great earthquake shakes the land. The statue of the White Dragon disappears. A prince is lost in a terrible fire. And the Red Lion plots to take the throne. In the midst of it all a young heroine’s heart is caught between her brave and devoted servant and a beautiful and beguiling teacher, as they embark on a bold and daring adventure into the center of intrigue that will take them all the way to the Imperial palace itself. Meanwhile, in the shadows, a cloaked figure watches their every move. Fun, funny, fast-paced and surprisingly wise and dark, this beautifully romantic epic, set in a fantastical China of old, is full of enchanting characters every reader will simply fall in love with!

MemoryRedhorse · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
78 Chs

Chapter Two: The Peach Festival

The streets of Blossom City were not safe for beggars, even on an ordinary day. The Emperor's Guard did regular sweeps to round up any "unsettled citizens" and sent them to work camps, from which few ever returned. With the Peach Festival underway, the guards would be extra vigilant. They wouldn't want any filth to be visible in the city center, not with so many rich and elite families coming out to enjoy the fun. However, Emilian was famished. His stomach was twisting painfully, and his hands were shaking, and it was his hunger that dared him to venture close to the main avenue. Where there was a peach festival, there was sure to be bruised and damaged fruit thrown by the way, scraps of pastries dropped by children, and maybe even a jug of wine left unattended. He slipped through the shadows, darting undercover now and then to avoid direct contact with anyone who might sound the alarm.

Just then a group of young people turned onto the avenue, all of them wearing expensive silks. The young women had flowers in their hair, and the young men wore golden decorations on their belts to boast their rank and station. Emilian darted into the dark space between a set of steps and a support beam beside a gate, clutching the beam to steady himself as a wave of dizziness made the world tilt and turn.

"Look! Oh, look! Jugglers!" One of the girls squealed, pointing to the sideshow that was gathering an excited crowd down the next street.

"They have flaming swords!" a boy, who seemed to be no more than twelve or thirteen, shouted. Emilian blinked, thinking for a moment that his eyes were playing tricks on him, because there was a second boy who looked exactly like the first, who was also jumping around.

"Oh, let's go watch, please!?"

"Why don't you go enjoy the show," one of the women said, moving closer to the stairs, "I'll just rest a bit here." Emilian noticed that she had an awkward way of moving, and she carried a fancy walking stick, the sort that old people use when they are frail and tottery.

"Oh MeiLan, we can't leave you alone!" Another young lady protested, but to Emilian's ears, it sounded annoyed. He peeked over the step to get a better look. The second woman was very beautiful, even if she was making an unpleasant, pouty face. Her hair was braided intricately into a crown around her head, her complexion was very pale, and her lips were painted a bright red. Her dress was pale pink and white, with a darker rose robe over the top.

"No, you people go," The one with the walking stick waved them on. "No one needs to stay behind to chaperone me. I can even see the place from here. I'll have a rest, and you can come back and fetch me when the show is over."

She perched herself on the step and smiled at the others. "I'll be fine here, you go on."

"Well… if you insist…" The others did not need much more encouragement to leave the young woman behind and hurry toward the entertainment. When they were a safe distance away, the woman sighed and let herself lean back against the gate. 

From where he was hidden, Emilian could see she was not as beautiful as the other girl. She seemed quite tired, and maybe a little sick. He thought the others should not have left her behind so casually.

She leaned forward and pulled a peach from her bag. It was so ripe and fragrant that his stomach rumbled loudly just from the smell of it. She did not seem startled by the dragon in his gut, but instead stretched her hand with the fruit toward his hiding place. He shrank away from her hand, and her offering.

"It's okay," she said, her voice soft and gentle. "I've bought too many, and I'm afraid they will spoil before I can eat them." Her eyebrows arched over her eyes. "Don't you like peaches?" She continued to extend her hand.

Emilian debated with himself. She had seen him, so there was no use hiding now. But did she really intend to give him some fruit, or was it a trick? Would she cry out "thief" after he had taken it? Looking into her round and earnest face, he didn't think she was the mean type, and so he took a gamble and reached out for the fruit, his dirty fingers brushing hers slightly in the exchange. He pulled back against the gate and immediately sank his teeth into the fuzzy skin of the fruit.

She laughed softly, a pleasant sound that delighted the ears. "Careful, they are so juicy! Your whole chin will be wet!" She discreetly studied him as he ate.  He was a tall young man, who had probably lived a hard life, judging by his too-thin body and scruffy appearance.  He was around twenty-four, or twenty-five she guessed, just a few years older than herself.  Despite his rough appearance, he had a nice face and kind eyes.

She relaxed back against the gate again, something no dignified lady would do, lest she soil her silk robe with grime from the street. "What is your name?" When he didn't answer, she continued without him. "I am called MeiLan. In fact, I am a newcomer to Blossom City. I've come to stay with my aunt and uncle." She gestured toward the avenue, "Those are my cousins."

He wasn't interested in the cousins, as they seemed very selfish and rude to leave this nice young woman behind by herself. But he was grateful that they had. She was not like other girls from noble families. Other girls would not share their fruits and talk to him as if he was a human being. They would scream and throw things at him, abuse him and call for the guard. He didn't dare to answer her, or even give her his name, but he felt a warm sensation in his heart just sitting near her.

"Everything is peach today, it's really almost tiresome," she continued. "Peach pork, peach pies, peach mango rice. Oh, here, you should try this. It's a peach muffin." She unwrapped the sweet bread from its paper wrapping and passed it to him, as naturally as if she was sharing the treat with a friend. "I think after today I will need to take a holiday from peachy foods."

He took the muffin from her hand, and this time he touched her fingers on purpose. Although he knew it was inappropriate for him to do so. Her skin was soft and warm, and it made him feel strangely happy to have that momentary connection.

She lapsed into silence as he crammed the muffin into his mouth. The sweet bread, along with the perfectly ripe peach filled his shriveled stomach for the first time in what seemed like months. The full feeling was a welcomed discomfort. "When my cousins come, you best not be seen," she said quietly, sitting up and arranging her skirts. "I'm sorry, but they may not be pleasant." 

He understood her meaning and took that opportunity to scurry away. However, he didn't go far, finding another hiding spot where he could continue to watch the kind woman with the green silk dress. Crouching behind some shrubbery, the young man watched with a strange feeling of possessiveness. The girl had been kind to him, and now it felt like she belonged to him only. After a few minutes her family came for her, the young twin boys chattering excitedly about the performers, while an older boy of perhaps sixteen scoffed that the swords they had juggled were not even sharp. 

They stopped and waited while the kind Miss in the green dress struggled to her feet. Emilian wondered what was wrong with her legs; why did she hobble with a cane for support? Had she been injured? Or was it a condition from birth, as those born with clubfoot or crooked limbs? They moved away, toward the crowded center street, and he hesitated. Did he dare go out into the crowd, just to have another look at this woman who called herself MeiLan?

The thought that she would disappear into the crowd, and he would never see her again caused him physical discomfort. He just wanted to keep an eye on her until she got in her carriage and returned safely to her mansion.

The group of young people walked down center street, stopping here and there. The boys bought sugar candy, while the girls looked at hairpins and jewelry. They stopped for a moment to watch a street performer who danced with a monkey balanced on his head. Finally, they made their way back toward the line of parked conveyances. The three girls parted from the three boys and went into a fine carriage of red and gold, with a beautiful black horse on the hitch. Emilian crouched behind a water trough and admired the horse. It was strong and sturdy and seemed much nicer than the red horse that was pulling the boys' carriage. Its feet were large and clomped heavily across the cobblestones as it moved into position. A servant lowered the stairs and the girls alighted. The girl in pink went first, followed by another girl in yellow, and finally, MeiLan. Climbing the stairs was difficult, and yet no one helped her. He could see the way she shook with the effort and seemed to wobble on the step. That servant should be ashamed, how could he not offer her his hand! Leave alone a hand, he should have lifted her into the conveyance, however awkward it may have been. Finally, she made it and ducked inside to sit with her relatives. The curtain dropped and she was gone from his sight.

With a sigh, he leaned back against the post, feeling as though a tether had been loosened from his sternum. He was about to fade back into an alley and take himself far away from the market center and the Peach festival, when there was a stir at the side of the road. Some impish boys had stolen some fireworks from one of the vendors, and now foolishly lit the fuse in the street.

What happened next all happened very quickly. Although the boys had tried to tip it upwards, so that the fireworks would blaze into the sky, the support slipped out from under it at the last moment, sending the explosive twisting down the street in a shower of sparks and flame. 

Frantic, the festival attendants screamed and jumped out of the way, dropping their packages and sending ripe peaches rolling all over the road.  The rocket whizzed past the conveyances that had just departed, luckily not slamming into any of the carriages, but frightening the horses as it flew by, hissing and popping. The black horse reared back on its hind legs, throwing the servant from the driver's seat. One shaft broke away from Zheng MeiLan's carriage, and the terrified animal began to bolt down the street. The people, who were still reeling from the stray explosive, were now jumping out of the way of the horse, and the broken carriage that was being dragged behind it.

Emilian could hear the screams of the women in the carriage, which was bouncing dangerously behind the run-away horse, and seemed to be breaking apart quickly. If the horse was not stopped, he thought, then surely those young ladies would be dragged to their deaths in the street. His heart shriveled at the thought of that kind lady being dragged to an early death. Without regard for his own safety, Emilian sprang out of the shadows. He was fully aware that he could not outrun the frightened horse, but the road that the horse had bolted down had many obstacles and turns. He climbed to the rooftops so that he could take a more direct line. Where he found the energy when he had been hungry for so long was a mystery, but his arms pumped by his sides, and his legs worked like pistons as he clattered over the tiles, until he lined himself up with the runaway horse. If I miscalculate, I will break my legs in the fall, he thought, and that will be my end. Despite his fear, he sucked in a deep breath and leaped from a balcony, landing directly on the back of the black horse.

The sudden drop of weight onto its back only pushed the delirious horse further into its frenzy.  Emilian clung to his mane long enough to wrap his legs around the surging, sweat-slicked body, and then he searched for the reins which were now dragging and flapping uselessly after the driver was catapulted off the rig. Emilian found one side first, and then the other, and then began to work the bit gently in the horse's mouth, all the while speaking calmly into the horse's ear. "Easy now, slow it down boy, nothing is wrong, you are fine, you are safe, it's all in the past now."

Gradually the horse came under his control, the mad gallop slowing to a trot until finally, the beast came to a shuddering stop, its sides heaving, and nostrils flared. A bystander came and grabbed the bridle so that Emilian could scramble off the horse and jump onto the carriage.

He pulled back the curtain and was relieved to see that the women, although jumbled up and frightened, did not appear to be seriously injured. His eyes went immediately to the lady in green, to MeiLan. For a moment their gazes connected, and he saw sincere gratitude flash in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but hands suddenly grabbed him and threw him roughly from the carriage. "Out of the way, urchin! Hey! Is anyone hurt in there?"

He landed heavily on his back on the filthy cobblestones, the breath knocked out of him.

"It's okay ladies, you are safe now, here, let me help you down!" merchants and bystanders began helping the girls down from the broken carriage.

All the commotion had attracted the Imperial Guard.

"What is this now? What has happened?" the lieutenant called as he dismounted his horse and hurried to the young women. Witnesses from the crowd began to call out the events, how the stray firework had frightened the horse, how the driver was unseated, and the horse ran away with the carriage. Someone pointed a finger to where Emilian was still lying in the gutter, the mud and manure soaking into his ragged clothes. "It was him! That boy! He stopped the carriage."

"Eh?" someone grabbed him roughly by the shirt and hauled him to his feet. "What do you think you are doing here, boy?"

Emilian knew that he must keep his mouth closed and his eyes down. He could not look into the face of the guard, or he was certain to be beaten severely. "What is a rat like you doing in these parts? Don't you know the emperor has forbidden beggars from panhandling in the city?" The guard gave him a rough shake.

"Take your hands off that boy!" The order came clear and loud from a feminine voice. The woman in the green dress was making her way toward them, leaning heavily on the cane. She was disheveled now, her hair falling wildly around her face. "Is this how Blossom City treats her heroes?"