I sit down on the stool with a sigh, my face in my hands. “I spoke with the chancellor instead. He wanted to make sure my family are not revolutionaries. I’m permitted to stay in the competition for now, but I’ve made an enemy of the marquis.”
“The marquis.” Lian snorts, sitting down again. She pours us both cups of tea. I accept mine with a nod, grateful for the warmth between my hands. “That old toad. So set in his ways.”
The familiarity with which she speaks about the ministers and the officials in the palace reminds me to ask, “Lian, how do you know so many officials of the court?”
“You didn’t know?” She looks at me, then says with a casual shrug, “I’m the daughter of the diplomat to the western kingdoms, Ambassador Luo.”
“That’s why you are so familiar with the palace…” I process this revelation slowly. “And why you know everyone from Kallah.”
She gives me a wry smile. “We are bound by the sky tenets. My mother believes in knowing your people, that we are all one family.”
“In Sù we do not see many people from outside our province,” I tell her. “Pardon my ignorance.”
Lian laughs. “Don’t be so formal with me, Ning. I hate the rigidity of the court. I feel more comfortable on horseback under an open sky.”
I nod. I can understand that. Just like my place used to be among the plants of the medicine garden. Someday I will return to the rows of tea trees and call myself a Daughter of Shénnóng.
Lian tells me about her home while we nibble on our now-cold breakfast. Kallah is a small province. Some of its more agriculturally minded people have settled in pockets of fertile areas. Others live a nomadic life, raising animals on the grasslands. They trade mostly with those from Yún province, which is why Shao must have mistaken her for a girl from Yún.
The freedom she describes is alluring. She doesn’t have to settle in the same village and see the same faces for the rest of her life. She’s free to travel where she wants. She’s probably seen more of the world than any of us, traveled farther than I could have ever imagined.
Lian suddenly throws her chopsticks down. “I can’t stand this cold congee. It isn’t enough to sustain me. Let’s go to the kitchens.”
I protest, mindful of the rules and my new status as “one to be watched,” but Lian ignores me as she purposefully strides through the gardens. I half expect the guards to stop us from entering the servants’ area, but they do not pay us any attention. Enticing scents drift by—smoke and roasted meat, the familiar smell of earthy herbs and damp fronds.
Lian strolls into the imperial kitchens as if she owns the place, with a nod at one of the servants hurrying by with an armful of vegetables. I glance about, curiosity overruling caution, as the last time we were only permitted to crowd into the kitchen courtyard. Now, past the stacks of steamers and racks of dried fish, we are in the kitchen proper.
The room is busy with activity. The sounds of chopping, cooking, and fire crackling fill the space. It is a large room, but to my surprise, this is only one wing of the kitchen. I can see moon doors separating one section from another. Servants walk in and out of the round openings, carrying trays piled high with ingredients or baskets filled with goods. Against the far wall, there is a line of wood-burning stoves made of brick. More steamers are stacked up against the wall in the corner. In the center of the room there is a huge table covered with flour. The uniforms of the servants here are dusted with white, their hands working rapidly. The dough is rolled out, filled, then fingers pinch and turn, quickly closing each bundle, before it lands on a tray.
Before I can discern what sort of filling goes into those buns, a rumbling voice greets us.
“It’s been a long time!”
Lian is picked up by a giant of a man and spun around, before being placed back down on the floor, both of them laughing.
“Small Wu!” She giggles. “Here, meet my friend, Zhang Ning.”
This man looks as big and broad as an ox, contrary to his name, with bronzed skin and fierce eyebrows that match his bushy beard.
“Pleasure.” He bows, clasping his massive hands across his chest, before turning again to look at Lian with affection. “I thought once you advanced in the competition you would forget about your people.”
She smirks. “Do you think my father would permit it? Or that you would allow me to forget?”
He lets out a round of booming laughter, clapping her on the back.