We bought fresh lychees, crisp chive dumplings, and almond cakes, eating them as we made our way through the market. Our fingers were sticky with a coating of oil, sugar, and crumbs as we began peeling away the red scaly skin of the lychees, its translucent flesh sweeter than honey. Liwei likened their delicate flavor to the Immortal Peaches, which took over three centuries to ripen, but sadly the lychees possessed none of their magical properties.
It was almost midday when we reached the end of the marketplace, the very center of the spiral of stalls. The last one was crafted from black-lacquered wood, with a small sign that read “Precious Ornaments.” Its owner sat serenely among her wares, not calling out or waving to the customers. Her trays were crammed with carved pieces of jasper and jade, carnelian and turquoise, which could be fastened to one’s waist. Liwei picked up two exquisite ornaments of white jade carved into endless knots, a symbol of longevity and luck. Above them, gleamed a clear gemstone shaped as a tear, and from its base hung a tassel of azure silk.
Observing his interest, the seller drew closer. “Young Lord, you have excellent taste. Those are Sky Drop Tassels. Ask a loved one or dear friend to channel a little of their energy into it. When the stone is clear, they are safe and well. But when it turns red, they are in the utmost danger and you can use the tassel to find them.”
“I will take these.” Liwei counted out ten rings of grass-green jade, which he passed to her. She thanked him as she tucked the rings into her sleeve.
Liwei’s thumb grazed one of the stones in his palm. His magic swirled forth, the clear gem now aglitter with golden flecks of light.
He offered it to me, but I did not take it. “What is this for?”
“Can’t I give my friend a gift?” When he opened his mouth, I braced for another reminder of our wager, but all he said was “It would please me greatly if you would take it.” Something in his gaze held mine fast.
I nodded, unable to find the words. He smiled at me, before bending to tie the tassel to my waist. The jade gleamed mutedly against the pale silk of my dress. How I wished I had something to give him in exchange.
“Thank you. I will treasure it always,” I told him.
“You should,” he said gravely. “This way you’ll know when I’m in danger and you have no excuse not to come to my aid.”
I laughed aloud. An inconceivable thought that the Crown Prince of the Celestial Kingdom would ever need my help.
He gave me the other tassel. “Now, you. Channel your energy into the stone.”
I paused. “Are you sure?”
“Friends watch out for each other. If that is what you want, too?” The slight hesitation in his voice pricked me. Did he think I might refuse? I cherished this about him—that despite his position, he never demanded, that he always gave me the choice.
I pressed my fingers against the stone, releasing my energy into it. It glowed just as the one tied to my waist, yet with silver lights sparkling in its depths. With a smile, Liwei fastened it to his black sash.
“The sun and the moon. A matched pair,” the vendor remarked, as she picked up her trays. I looked at her—uncertain of her meaning—but as another customer approached her, we walked away.
At noon, the crowd dispersed, the marketplace obscured by swirling clouds of white and gray. The merchants packed up their stalls, stepped upon their clouds, and were swiftly whisked away. In just a few moments, all trace of the market had vanished, as though it had never existed—except for the weight of the jade dangling from my waist, the lingering sweetness of lychees in my mouth, and the warmth nestled deep in my heart.
9
In the Celestial Kingdom there were no seasons to chart the passing of time. Two years swept by so quickly, I almost lost count but for the waxing and waning of the moon. The ease I felt here reminded me of my home, except for the nagging ache in my chest whenever I thought of my mother. How I longed to see her again and not just as a distant orb in the heavens. I consoled myself that at least I’d found a sense of purpose here which I had never known before; striving to better myself, to find a way home.
Dawn till dusk, Liwei and I were together—studying our lessons or sparring on the field. Mealtimes were my favorite, when we would talk about anything that took our fancy, whether serious matters or in jest. Once, Liwei asked me about my home and how my parents had died. I had bitten down hard on my tongue, wishing I could have told him the truth. From the tightening of his lips, I knew he had been disappointed by my reticence. How it wrenched me inside—I was not heartless, laden with guilt at deceiving him. Our friendship meant more to me than anything I possessed.