“This is what I am struggling with,” Lian says, folding her arms over her chest as well. “In order to counteract some poisons, you have to ingest another poison, but there is always the risk of countering the toxicity of one and then succumbing to the other.”
“What did Elder Guo say to us that day before we found out about the emperor?” I ask, struggling to remember her words.
“The bird will only take in what it is able to endure,” Lian recalls.
I stare at her, the solution revealing itself in my mind, like a hand brushing steam off a fogged mirror. “Fight poison with poison,” I tell her excitedly. “That’s it! That’s the answer!”
Lian looks at me, still confused.
“We force the bird to ingest the poison somehow. It will do so, in order to save itself. If it believes there is an even greater threat than the jīncán.” My mind is already going through the list of ingredients that will make someone more susceptible to influence. Mother uses them to calm those who are in mental distress, and I can use them to coax out a different reaction.
“I don’t want to hurt him.” The corners of Lian’s mouth pull down into a genuine frown.
I place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “We’ll save him. I’m certain of it.”
After a lengthy pause, Lian finally nods, acquiescing to my horrible, yet necessary plan.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The setting sun sends streaks of pink and orange across the sky, reflected in the water of the lily pond behind the pavilion. A beautiful backdrop to the third round of the competition, but I do not have the luxury to admire such views. Instead, I mentally rehearse the steps to the daunting challenge ahead of us. Deceive the Piya, save the Piya.
Our judges are seated on the stone chairs already built into the pavilion itself, speaking to one another while waiting for the competition to begin. Three of them are cloaked in black, bare of courtly ornamentation, adhering to the ritual of mourning. The princess sits clothed in an austere robe of white, hair adorned with silver flowers. The sweep of her skirt shows the faintest hint of embroidery, chrysanthemums in gold.
Mother never liked chrysanthemums, due to their association with funerals. When we laid her to rest, there was not a chrysanthemum in sight. It feels like a bad omen to see them now, even though I know that is a foolish thought.
Only six of us are present: The two shénnóng-tú who are companions of Shao and Guoming have not joined us. I note their absence as we stand before the judges. Only three pedestals, three birds. Something must have happened.
Elder Guo stands. “The minister has performed the summer rites to appease the heavens, for the gods to bless us with fair weather and a bountiful harvest. It should be an auspicious time for Dàxī, but instead we have uncovered a plot to cheat in our competition.”
Behind us, an official enters the pavilion and bows to the judges. The pendant swinging from his sash indicates he is from the Ministry of Justice. Even though his sword is sheathed in an ornamental scabbard, and we are far from Sù, I still feel a familiar chill at the sight.
“We have determined that the mercenary was hired by the Zhu family in an attempt to influence the competition in their son’s favor,” he reports. “They have provided their confessions and will be sequestered to their residences, awaiting judgment.”
Beside me, I hear a chuckle. Glancing over, I see Shao and Guoming, barely able to contain their glee. It would not surprise me if these two had some hand in influencing the other competitors to attempt their subterfuge. A whispered suggestion, a nudge and wink. At least Wenyi’s expression is stoic, and Chengzhi appears disgusted by the discovery.
“Greed continues to remain in the people of Dàxī,” Elder Guo says with distaste. “We must remember that the path to wisdom is self-restraint. We must not give in to our primal selves.” The princess looks perturbed by this comment but does not interrupt the elder’s speech.
“First, we will see how you fare in this challenge.” Elder Guo nods in the direction of Shao and Guoming. “The items you have requested are already present in the pavilion, marked with your names.”
After greeting the judges with courteous bows, the two of them separate—Guoming to the table where the ingredients are laid out, and Shao to collect their Piya from the pedestal.
An enclosure is moved into the middle of the pavilion by the servants: a wooden frame with wire-mesh walls placed on a waist-high table for optimal viewing. Shao releases the Piya into the enclosure, where it tests out its new space by flying from one side to the other. The stage is set.