“Welcome to those who remain, as a testament to Shénnóng’s legacy.” She raises her arms in greeting.
The scholars and the monks commit their lives to the study of pursuits worthy of the respective gods they honor. Just like Hánxiá is dedicated to the Blue Carp, W?lín is devoted to the Black Tiger, renowned for its study of martial arts and military techniques. Yěli? Academy is where one would attend for the study of philosophy and history. The shénnóng-tú who spoke up for me against Shao, the one named Wenyi, wears a pendant that shows he is pledged to the Emerald Tortoise of Yěli?, I’ve noticed. Only the Lady of the South has no monastery or academy. She is found in the trees and fields.
“At Hánxiá, we are dedicated to the service of Shénnóng. We study his teachings, all he has passed on regarding agriculture and animal husbandry, and of course, the art of tea.”
What I know of Hánxiá is that it is located west of the Jade River, on the border of the mountain range that separates Yún and ānhé, overlooking the most fertile valley of Dàxī. Mother always mentioned the name with reverence; the most renowned shénnóng-shī have passed through those hallowed halls, where she obtained her rank. The rarest of tea leaves are grown at that elevation, some of which have been tasted only by the royal family and the court officials.
Elder Guo’s expression turns somber. “By now you must have all heard about the rot that is attempting to infiltrate the empire through poisoned tea bricks. Treacherous attempts to undermine the rule of the great emperor.”
A rush fills my ears. The tea responsible for my mother’s death. So far, we have been told nothing about its origins, about who may be behind the poisonings. The governor and his people have many excuses, offering only a promise that the threat has been contained.
“Your third challenge honors the virtue of wisdom. You will continue to the next round in pairs,” she states. “Choose your partner.”
I’m surprised she would permit us to form our own alliances. Lian and I step closer to one another without hesitation. The others do the same, having already formed their own bonds.
“We will—” Elder Guo’s eyes narrow as her words break off. The floor beneath our feet begins to shake. Her head swivels to the door. In the distance, there is the sound of drums.
Wenyi is the one who jumps forward first, throwing the windows open, revealing the courtyard below. Rows of soldiers march in time, sending tremors throughout the grounds of the palace. The air is suddenly filled with the sound of beating wings, the caged birds attempting to take flight, sensing danger.
Someone wails, the words ringing clearly across the rooftops, bringing everyone to their knees:
“The emperor has ascended! Long will he be remembered! The emperor has ascended! Long will he be remembered!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
We are escorted out of the Hall of Reflection, directed to return to our residences. But we quickly enter into chaos, the gardens teeming with soldiers. I’m separated from the other competitors, trying to get my bearings, but I’m refused entry to a gate that appears familiar, then I’m funneled down another corridor until I am lost again. I’m gripped by the same panic as in the market, the drums beating a frantic beat in the distance, causing my own heartbeat to quicken.
“Clear a path!” Soldiers bark at a cluster of servants, many of whom are weeping.
My head turns and I see another group of people dressed in the finery of nobles, but one seems to have collapsed into a faint. I follow another group of servants, hurrying past, hoping they will lead me back to the servants’ wing where I belong. But someone bumps into me, then I’m grabbed by an arm clasped in armor, pulling me in another direction.
“Wait!” I protest. “You’ve got the wrong person!”
The soldier who has ahold of me stops and bends down toward me, lifting his helmet up slightly to unveil the face beneath.
“Kang?” I half gasp, then, realizing my mistake in uttering that name in the open, I speak quickly, hoping no one else overheard. “You didn’t come last night.”
But I immediately regret those words. It sounds like too much wanting, too much of myself revealed.
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me again,” he says. I catch a glimpse of a smile before it is once again hidden beneath the helmet.
Before I can say anything else, another shadow looms over us: a soldier with jutting wings of gold rising from his black helmet. The fine designs of his shoulders and the etchings of the grimacing demon on his chest plate indicate someone of a high rank. I freeze, certain he has seen through Kang’s disguise.