My King of Flowers
5. Scavengers

CHAPTER FIVE

With her brother’s wedding approaching, the tasks around the house appeared more and more laborious. Yinuo assisted her mother in sewing tablecloths, gathering and arranging flowers for the centerpieces, and shadowing her as she directed the servants in preparing special menu items. Additionally, her mother ensured that the preferences of the invited families were taken into account to maintain harmony. She found herself after the evening meal, completely exhausted, lounging on a chair with a bowl of star fruit slices she’d carefully cut up and snuck from the kitchens to munch on.

For three days, the “something” watched her. At first, she thought it was a magpie outside or even a shadow in the corner, but as more days passed, she became more certain that the entity saw her. Moreover, whatever it was, the “something” knew that she was aware of it. Yet, when she brought it up to Yaolin, she was reprimanded for making up stories about flickering light. Instead, her father ordered more guards to protect the manor, taking it upon himself to ensure everything had been prepared correctly for the ceremony. There were rites and traditions that Danni helped prepare, as well as entertaining the family arriving days too early. It left the estate bustling with excitement and the color red everywhere.

Yinuo heard the maids approaching with happy chatter and decided to leap behind the side of the lounger. She’d just finished dusting and organizing Mingdan’s library for Cousin Bing’s futon and wasn’t ready to be swept up into yet another task. Carefully, she jutted out her hand to grab the tip of her porcelain bowl and made her way out of the room.

On her hands and knees, she crept out the door and towards the peony garden. Slipping between the thick jade stalks that lined the back wall, she pressed her head against it. For a moment, relief washed over her as she savored the crisp, tangy slices, their juice cooling her throat.

“Little Yi!” she heard Yaolin and froze mid-bite of the translucent, star-shaped piece. “Your father is looking for you! Oh, where did she go? Little Yi!”

Yinuo dropped to the gravel, certain she heard a chuckle just as her elbow resonated against the stones. Too focused on locating the source, she barely registered the stinging pain or noticed anything beyond the plants. A slow, uncomfortable feeling traced through her gut. Promptly, she sprang from the peonies, crashing right into the back of Maid Yaolin.

“Umph! Yi’er! What are you doing there?” Yaolin said, flustered.

“I...dropped my star fruit.”

“Dropped your star fruit?” the watchful eyes of Yinuo weren’t ready to believe her, but it was true; her bowl now resided in the back of the peonies to be feasted on by crickets.

Yinuo sighed, “I may have been avoiding work. Honestly, why doesn’t father ask his capable sons?”

“Do not question your father, and everyone in this family is busy with Danbei’s wedding. But that is neither here nor now. Your father has summoned you.”

“Summoned me? Sounds serious. What did I do wrong?” Yinuo asked. Had her escapade outside the walls finally come to light? Well, she couldn’t hide the silks and carved mandarin ducks forever. She’d given them to her mother, who not only complimented her on the purchase but ensured her that the baby clothes made from them would be “quite” suitable for a great-grandson of a princess. Yinuo felt pride at that moment, but it was currently being overshadowed by a rather forceful Yaolin who grabbed her arm and marched her towards the main hall.

Yaolin paused, licked her fingers, and tidied Yinuo’s eyebrows, then proceeded to brush the dust off her shoulders and straighten her pleated skirt. “Stop, it’s fine,” Yinuo protested.

“Shh!” Yaolin hushed, firmly guiding Yinuo back to face the door and skillfully adjusting her peony pin in her hair. After giving Yinuo a thorough final inspection, Yaolin’s demeanor softened.

“Master Yan, your daughter, Yan Yinuo, is here in response to your summons,” Yaolin announced with a soft eloquence that made Yinuo curious about who was so important on the other side of the screen door.

“Enter!” a voice boomed from beyond the door. It was a tone she hadn’t heard in a long time, its authority making the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight, just like her posture. She folded her arms as Yaolin gave Yinuo one last warning glance before the doors slid open on their own.

Yinuo entered the Great Hall, the heart of their home and the most prestigious space in the entire house. This hall, representing the Yan family to the outside world, served not just as a venue for hosting guests but also as a showcase of their pride. Typically maintained with care, its decoration for the wedding now rivaled the opulence of a prince’s estate, filled with the fresh scent of orange and peach blossom branches—remnants of Yinuo and Danni’s recent visit. At the hall’s end, her parents were seated side by side in elevated rosewood chairs with a tea set on a small table between them. Kneeling on a pillow before them, Yinuo observed two men: one, an elderly figure whose stature was lost in the folds of blue refined silk; the other, clad in a light yellow pao, splendidly embroidered with large peonies.

Standing behind them, she saw the elaborate hairpiece the younger man wore and noticed the peony motif repeated in the golden design. For a moment, she thought, she saw him twitch to face her, but the man knelt firm, his hands in his lap. Yinuo heard the doors closing behind her and the soft taps of her slippers on the polished marble tiles. She felt the whole world slow down as if approaching a moment from which she thought it better to flee. Out the window, before the stage, Yinuo witnessed a nightingale perched among the peach blossoms fly out of frame.

“Yinuo,” her mother breathed, and it brought her back to the moment. She took a few steps forward and avoided making direct eye contact with the men. Off to the side where she usually sat hung a privacy screen of linen lace that she knew she should have approached but didn’t. Instead, she knelt and bowed to her father in line with the men.

“You’ve called for me?” she asked.

“Take your seat,” her father said evenly. Yinuo stood, her tapping feet the only sound in the entire room. She sat down in her chair and observed the scene before her, now blurred by the screen. At least the voices were clear.

“Yinuo, this is Lord Nie and his son Cuilin,” her father’s voice was tight and stressed.

“A pleasure,” she responded, giving a slight bob of her head.

“They have come to make a proposition, and I would hear an explanation, Yinuo,” her father started but suddenly stopped as her mother’s hand caught his arm.

“Do not be so quick to anger,” her mother warned, eying the two men in front of her. “It is unconventional, but it is not outright wrong.”

“I understand your reservations, Lord Yan,” Lord Nie’s soft voice entered the scene, almost like a cat purring. “We come before you not merely as suitors among many but as the most fitting and advantageous match for Miss Yan.”

Suitors? Yinuo’s heart skipped a beat. Did he just say suitors! She felt sick and placed her hand at her mouth to suppress a gasp.

“Yet, consider the fortuitous nature of this connection. Our families share a bond of mutual respect and aligned interests, and you know my Cuilin is not only my son but also a Prince of Zhou. The union between Cuilin and Yinuo could only strengthen our ties, presenting a formidable alliance. In these uncertain times, such a bond could prove invaluable, ensuring prosperity and security for both our houses.”

“You mean to marry her to the hostage prince,” Lord Yan interjected.

“Hostage is such a cruel word for such a distinguished son,” Lord Nie countered. Yinuo cursed the screen before her, wishing only to see the prince’s reaction to this exchange more clearly.

“And what of you, prince! What can you offer my daughter besides a casket of sorrow?”

“Husband!”

“You come to us before my eldest’s marriage is sealed and demand the hand of my only daughter as if you’re scavengers early to a feast. I am sure there are other suitors more palatable than that of Prince Cuilin.”

“We do not mean to offend,” came Cuilin’s low voice, breaking the sanctity of the room. She heard her father gasp, and for a moment, she wanted to hear Prince Cuilin’s voice again.

“My Prince, remember the customs here differ,” Lord Nie softly purred.

“What is different? A prince sees a flower he desires and seeks her father’s permission solely because it is the right thing to do. Your daughter has invaded my garden, and since then, I have not had a moment’s rest. You call me ′hostage,′ yet you also address me as ′prince’; therefore, I command your respect,” his voice shot her father down. Almost low and grueling, it captivated Yinuo. Instead of fearing his possessiveness, she found herself admiring his boldness.

“Have I invaded your garden?” she spoke up.

The men did not turn to her but lowered their heads in a bow. “Young miss,” Cuilin softly replied. “These talks are too preemptive for your presence. I am sorry for the distress, please, do not mind me.”

“Tell me, prince. Why me?”

He paused, and a long silence followed as if he were crafting a story or searching for the words. His visage was damnably shrouded by the gauze before her, but she was focusing on his low voice and the gentleness that had previously been directed toward her.

“That is enough. Yinuo, the prince, makes a valid point. Lord Nie, this is not the time to invest my daughter. You are welcome to stay for the wedding, but I will not entertain any propositions until my son is married into General Lei’s family.”

“As you wish, thank you for hearing us,” he bowed deeply. “Prince Cuilin, let us retire.”

“En, this discussion has yet to reach its conclusion.”

“I will not see you out,” her father answered. The two lifted from the floor and headed towards the main doors.

From her angle, Yinuo caught a glimpse of his profile. “Dehai,” she whispered. It was the same man she had seen in the garden. Lord Nie’s frail body leaned against Prince Cuilin’s, but their movement betrayed them. It wasn’t the old man who needed support but Prince Cuilin himself. Recalling the spokes of Cuilin’s wheelchair, Yinuo confirmed that the prince needed support in walking, even if others in the room were fooled by the facade. Her focus only heightened, recognizing that the prince was moments from collapsing, which only grew her admiration for the steps he continued to take. She turned to her father just as she heard the door slide closed.

“I’ll fetch the good china,” she said.

“You’ll do no such thing,” her father cut in. “Yinuo!”

Yinuo stood before her father could lecture her, heading for a side door instead of the one the prince had left from. Sneaking her way through the house, she exited close to the front doors, where she looked for the prince and Lord Nie. Stopping at the corner of the house, she peered into the front courtyard, seeing her brother Danbei welcome Prince Cuilin.

“I am glad you made it, Prince Cuilin,” Danbei said with a revered and gentle smile. Yinuo pressed herself further into the wall, watching from a distance.

“Congratulations on your engagement to General Lei’s daughter,” Cuilin replied smoothly, the low tone still enthralling her.

“Yes, truly a joyous occasion. We look forward to the ceremony,” Lord Nie explained as he faltered on his left leg in pretense. “Ah, excuse these frail bones. We must retire for the evening, I’m afraid.”

“Of course, a room has been prepared, and we look forward to hosting you. Please let us know if there is anything we can do to make the Zhou Prince comfortable.”

“You are indeed gracious,” he replied.

“Who are you watching?” Sile’s voice touched her ear. She slapped him and pressed her fingers to her lips. In response, her youngest brother flailed, looking almost indignant as he dropped his school tome. Yinuo blocked him from seeing what she saw.

“Jiejie? Who is that?” he peered from behind the wall and over her head. Unfortunately, Sile towered above her, leaving her little option but to lung at him and pull him down to her size. Her focus turned to watching as Prince Cuilin pretended to struggle with Lord Nie.

“He hurts,” Yinuo said softly, easing her grip on her brother.

“Again, who is that?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” she shook her head, “He tried to proposition marriage to father for me.”

“WHAT!”

“Sh!” Yinuo panicked and covered his mouth as a slew of words flew from her brother into her hand. She pulled him into a side room, losing track of Prince Cuilin.

“Let go of my mouth!” Sile broke free and readjusted himself. “Stop being so crazy! Ugh, what is on your hands? Did you eat star fruit?”

“That’s not the point! I...” Yinuo blushed a crimson red, the color spreading up to her ears.

“Are you sick?” he asked. “Please, don’t tell me you’re getting sick.”

“No, I...”

“Who was that man, jiejie?” Sile asked, more confused than angry. He reached out to pick up his tome from beyond the door when she caught his arm. He merely looked at her, waiting for her to sheepishly look away and then back to her brother.

“I don’t know, but I have so many questions. Sile, introduce me!” she begged.

“I-I don’t know him. He’s Danbei’s guest!”

“Please, Sile, walk with me then! He looks so much like...” Yinuo trailed off, her face faltering and eyes downcast. A cold enveloped her, like a reminder of the truth whispering in her ear. “I’m so stupid, little brother.”

“Yinuo, what is the matter?”

“Never mind, it’s stupid!”

He caught her arm, a firm expression on his face. “Fine. I’ll help you.”

“Sile?”

“You can’t approach him on your own. Let’s do it together, then. I’ll bring our guests some wine to the north pavilion in an hour. Just be ready to walk past, and I’ll get you your chance encounter.”

“Sile! You’re the best!” she cheered. She threw her arms around him and embraced him deeply before letting go.

“Yeah, yeah, stop being so clingy,” he said, detaching her arms from him. He then winked at her and headed out to the main garden. Yinuo could hear him conversing with Danbei and then the gravel crunching as he made it towards the cellar.

Yinuo hurried to the north pavilion, taking cover behind a large magnolia tree beside Nainai’s koi pond. Only a few white lotuses had braved the return from winter, their presence sparse amid the pond’s expanse of large green pads, which offered just a narrow glimpse of her reflection. Not only did she want to look presentable, but she also wanted to rehearse what she would say. Frogs croaked nearby, and a green snake slithered its way past Yinuo without a care.

Gingerly, Yinuo sat before the pond, checking that Yaolin’s efforts on her appearance hadn’t been disturbed in her haste. She didn’t really care about how she might appear to him; instead, she found silence in the pond, her first words unable to form with the beat of her heart. A sudden dread played its part by reminding her of the dangers of playing with ‘ifs’ and that the past couldn’t change, but still, the overwhelming thought of possibilities lingered in her. Prince Cuilin reminded her of him.

What harm would come from just speaking with him, just for a moment? And yes, she acknowledged that maybe there would be nothing to connect Cuilin to Dehai, and she’d make as much of a fool of herself as he had with his poor proposal. But, despite the uneasiness, she had to know.

Her father’s outright denial seemed almost out of character for him. He would have entertained the idea or at least not used such harsh descriptions as “caskets” and “scavengers.” Yinuo patted her cheek. Nope. Of course, this would not be the suitor she married. He would be one of many who vied for her!

But he would be the only one who reminded her of Dehai.

The thought stilled her, only to be broken by Sile’s laughter, causing her to snap her head towards the covered pavilion. Okay, deep breath, a chance meeting. She stood slowly. This was it. Settling her heart with gentle pats, she watched Sile and Prince Cuilin slowly coming down the path. His eyes reached for hers, a flicker of recognition flashing in his eyes, which he swiftly stifled by turning his head towards Sile, diverting his attention to answer a question she couldn’t hear. This was it.

Yinuo took one step before her foot caught in a root, and as ungracefully as possible, she saw herself spiraling toward the pond.