As the emperor waved his hand, a seal appeared before me, glittering like a star. I wrapped my fingers around it, folding my body low, pressing my head to the cold stone floor. There was no humility or gratitude in my bones, but I would perform my role in this farce. Pain threaded every inch of my flesh and I could not banish the prickle of fear that this might still be a trick. Trust was something I had learned not to readily yield. Yet my joy could not be restrained—surging free, spilling through me like the rays of the sun reaching across the infinite sky.
I was going home.
39
My mind had journeyed here a thousand times, although I had traveled this path only once before. I saw first the forest of moon-white osmanthus, the glittering laurel tree in the distance. The sweeping silver roof, then the shining stone walls of the Pure Light Palace. My home. Closing my eyes, I inhaled a heady trace of cinnamon-wood. If this was a dream, I did not want to awaken.
I halted my cloud and leapt onto the ground, luminous from the lanterns’ glow. Any moment now, Mother and Ping’er would sense the startling presence of a visitor. I had barely taken a few steps when the doors swung open and a slender woman in white emerged, a red peony tucked into her hair. She was pale, her lips drawn tight. Visitors were a rare occurrence here, usually heralding misfortune or ill tidings.
I was no longer the child who had fled, afraid of the unknown and clinging to Ping’er. Yet time had stood still here; I would have known her anywhere. A smile stretched across my face as my feet flew over the stone path. Never had they felt so light before. And my heart . . . my heart was incandescent, brighter than all the stars in the heavens.
“Mother!” I flung my arms around her, I was taller than her now. “I have returned.”
Her body stiffened as she pulled away, peering into my face. Did she suspect some trick to catch her unaware? Her gaze searched me, drinking in my eyes, moving to the cleft in my chin. She sucked in a sharp breath, a moment before her fingers lifted to brush my cheek, her eyes shining as the moonlight on water. Then her arms wrapped around me, hugging me as tightly as she had in my dreams.
“Xingyin, Xingyin,” she whispered. Again, and again, each time louder than the last. As though the more she said my name, the more she could believe it was true.
Another figure appeared at the entrance, perhaps drawn by the commotion. She stood by a column of mother-of-pearl, craning her neck. “Little Star?” A faint whisper slipped from her lips.
My childhood name pierced me with a sudden sweetness. The years fell away; it was as though I had never left. In truth, my heart had always been here.
“Ping’er! It’s me!” I cried.
She ran to me, embracing me just as she used to. “All these years, I’ve been so worried!” Her words tumbled out like she had been holding them in for a long time. “I . . . I failed you that day. I was too slow. I’m so—”
“No, Ping’er. I would never have escaped if not for you.” I held her tighter. “How did you get away from the soldiers?” My last glimpse of her had been her lifeless body, as her cloud soared away.
“I had almost exhausted myself, I believed myself dead. Fortunately, a wind sprang up and blew me to safety. I had to regain my energy before I could return. I went back to the Celestial Kingdom to find you, but I didn’t know where you had gone. The soldiers stopped me then.” Her face was pale. “They were suspicious of me and since then, I was not allowed to leave this place without permission.”
“I knew you would have tried to find me.” A lightness spread through my chest. “That when you didn’t, it was because you couldn’t.”
We stayed outside until the moonglow began to fade. The three of us laughed and wept, our hands clasped together, none of us wanting to let go. Until now, I had not realized how much I missed such a feeling—the oneness of family, of unconditional love. I did not want to move, to do anything that might shatter the perfection of this moment, this renewal of my soul. How rare are such times, even in an immortal life? When happiness is absolute, silencing the constant murmurs preying upon us. With my mother and Ping’er beside me, upon the earth of my home—I wanted for nothing more in this moment, my heart already filled to bursting.
Only when the night gave way to the pearl of dawn did we finally enter the silver entrance doors. My gaze lingered on the pale walls, the white jade lamps, each carved wooden pillar. Nothing compared to the treasures of the Jade Palace, yet a hundred times more precious to me. The stillness was deeper than I recalled, as was the tranquility which permeated the air. But after all I had been through, I was glad for it.