Volume 1: Entering Chang'an
Chapter 6: The Moon of Chang'an
Tanglong Year One, October 15th. The Festival of Xia Yuan.
The locust tree at the entrance of the dental clinic had shed its last leaf; its bare branches pierced the gray sky. Winter in Chang'an had not yet arrived, but the wind had already swept down from Mount Zhongnan, carrying the chill of snowflakes.
Inside the consultation room, however, the scene was entirely different. The copper brazier burned fiercely; the red glow of the charcoal reflected on the calligraphy on the wall"Expert in Skill, Benevolent in Heart"—warming the ink slightly. The jars of tooth powder in the cabinet were arranged neatly; the cotton strips were folded into perfect squares; the bamboo tubes and tweezers gleamed with a soft luster after washing in the porcelain dish. The scent of medicine drifted from the back hall; Shen Yue was boiling honeysuckle water, the bitter-clear aroma mixing with the warmth of the charcoal fire, wrapping the entire clinic into a small world isolated from the outside.
Qingyuan hung a lantern at the door. On the Festival of Xia Yuan, the Water Official resolves calamities; every household hangs lanterns to pray for blessings. The clinic's lantern was not large, made of ordinary white paper, with a tooth drawn on it in black ink—Shen Yue's idea. She said this way the Water Official would know we treat teeth and would bless us so that patients wouldn't have toothaches in the coming year.
"Third Lady," Qingyuan stood at the door, looking up at the lantern. "Do you think the Water Official knows what a tooth is?"
"No."
"Then how can he bless us?"
"As long as he blesses the clinic with peace. We'll handle the teeth ourselves."
Qingyuan thought for a moment, decided it made sense, and nodded.
Behind me, Shen Yue was grinding tooth powder, her teeth clenched, her brows focused. The pestle turned round and round in the mortar; fragments of honeysuckle jumped lightly with her movements. Without looking up, she said: "Third Lady, isn't the Festival of Xia Yuan for ancestor worship? Aren't you going back to Changzhou?"
"I can't go back."
"Why?"
"It's too far."
Shen Yue asked no more. She had been at the clinic for nearly two months and had learned not to ask too many "whys."
I stood before the door, looking at the lanterns on the street. Chongren Ward was not the most prosperous place in Chang'an, but on this night of Xia Yuan, every household had hung lanterns at their doors. White, red, yellow; large and small, high and low; like a flowing river, stretching from the ward gate all the way toward Zhuque Avenue.
The clinic's lantern was nestled among them, small and inconspicuous. But that crookedly drawn tooth stood out remarkably.
The owner of the neighboring shoe shop stood at his door; seeing me, he laughed and shouted: "Doctor Gu, what is drawn on your lantern?"
"A tooth."
"A tooth?" He leaned in to look. "Why does it look like a steamed bun?"
"...Shen Yue drew it."
Shen Yue shouted from behind: "I didn't draw a bun! I drew a molar! Third Lady said molars look like buns!"
The shop owner laughed until he bent double.
I laughed too.
The festivals in Chang'an were different from what I had imagined. In Vancouver, festivals were decorations in malls, turkeys in supermarkets, photos on social media. In Chang'an, a festival was a lantern, a bowl of tangyuan (glutinous rice balls), and the laughter of the neighboring shop owner. Simple, but very warm.
"Doctor Gu!" The wonton vendor across the street also called out. "Aren't you eating tangyuan on the Festival of Xia Yuan? Have a bowl? On me!"
"No, I'm waiting for someone."
"Waiting for whom? A lover?"
"A patient."
The shop owner and the vendor laughed together. I ignored them, turned back into the consultation room. Passing the medicine cabinet, I accidentally knocked over a jar of tooth powder. The porcelain jar rolled twice on the floor with a crisp sound. My heart skipped a beat; I quickly squatted down to pick it up.
Qingyuan poked her head out from the kitchen: "Third Lady, what happened?"
"Nothing. My hand slipped."
She brought out the tangyuan and placed them on the table. The bowl was celadon; the tangyuan floated on the water, white and plump. "Third Lady, eat something first. His Highness might not come today."
"He said he would come."
"But today is the Festival of Xia Yuan; isn't there a sacrifice ceremony in the court?"
"The ceremony ends at You hour (5-7 PM). From the Taiji Palace to Chongren Ward, it takes two quarters of an hour by horse."
Qingyuan looked at me, hesitant to speak. Her hand holding the bowl trembled slightly; her eyes secretly studied me, as if trying to read something from my face.
"What is it?"
"Third Lady, you even calculated how long it takes for His Highness to ride here?"
My hand paused. "...I was just calculating the time."
"Oh." Qingyuan placed the tangyuan on the table and turned to leave. At the door, she looked back. "Third Lady, tangyuan isn't good to eat when cold."
"I know."
I picked up the spoon and scooped up a tangyuan. Sesame filling, very sweet. Qingyuan had wrapped them herself; the skin was a bit thick, but delicious. By the third one, I suddenly stopped, staring at the remaining tangyuan in the bowl, lost in thought.
What was he doing? Was the ceremony over? Had he ridden out? Was it cold on the road?
These thoughts popped up one after another, impossible to suppress.
I put down the spoon, stood up and walked to the door, then walked back and sat down. I repeated this three times until Shen Yue finally couldn't bear it: "Third Lady, if you keep pacing like this, the dirt in front of the door will be packed solid by your feet."
I ignored her but stopped pacing. I just sat at the consultation desk, staring blankly at the bowl of tangyuan.
Hoofbeats came from the entrance.
Not the neat rhythm of patrolling soldiers, but a single horse. Neither hurried nor slow, it stopped steadily at the clinic door.
I stood up and walked to the door. My heart was beating so fast I had to press my hand against my chest.
Storms in the Court
The twilight of Chang'an was fading; the last streak of orange remained in the sky. He sat on that black warhorse, backlit, like a painting.
He dismounted. Today he wore a moon-white round-collar robe, covered by a black cloak; the fox fur at the collar fluttered slightly in the wind. His hair was tied with a jade hairpin, a jade pendant hanging at his waist. He looked thinner, yet his posture remained as upright as a pine. The twilight outlined his silhouette—clean-cut jawline, high nose, sword-like eyebrows sweeping into his temples. Those eyes were exceptionally bright in the twilight, like light tempered with stars.
But the dark circles under his eyes were deeper than before.
Qingyuan's hand holding the tangyuan froze in mid-air; her eyes secretly glanced at him before quickly lowering her head. Shen Yue lifted her eyes from behind the medicine mortar, took one look, then lowered her head to continue grinding, though her movements slowed considerably.
"Your Highness is late today," I said.
"The ceremony dragged on for some time." He tied his horse to the locust tree in front of the door; a corner of his cloak was blown up by the wind, revealing the scabbard of the sword at his waist. He turned to look at me, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned. "Were you anxious?"
"...No."
He smiled slightly, his gaze resting on my face for an instant before shifting away.
Qingyuan tactfully took the tangyuan from the table and pulled Shen Yue into the backyard.
Only he and I remained in the consultation room. The charcoal fire burned fiercely, warm and stuffy, colliding with the cold air on him, condensing into a thin layer of mist.
"Examine me," he said, sitting on the examination bed.
I washed my hands and walked over. He opened his mouth; I examined him—gum color normal, probing depth normal. The wound had been suture-free for half a month; the scar was pale pink, healing very well.
"Your Highness has been brushing very diligently recently."
"Of course." He leaned back in the chair, his gaze falling on my face. "This King keeps every promise made to you."
I lowered my head, pretending to organize tools. My fingers trembled slightly when touching the tweezers—not from cold, but from his gaze.
"Did Your Highness come today just for an examination?"
"No." He took something out of his sleeve and placed it on the table.
It was a lantern. Larger than the one at the clinic door, made of white paper, with a full moon painted on it, and beneath the moon, a cassia tree. The craftsmanship was fine; each leaf of the cassia tree was drawn individually, as if truly swaying in the wind. Moonlight seemed to透 (penetrate) through the paper, gentle as reality. The bamboo strips forming the lantern's frame were shaved extremely thin, each polished smooth and round, without a single burr.
"Did Your Highness paint this?"
"Yes." He leaned back, his tone casual. "On the Festival of Xia Yuan, the clinic should hang a better lantern."
I picked up the lantern and examined it in my hand. The paper was thin, translucent; the Moon Palace and cassia tree glowed faintly on the surface. My fingertips lightly brushed over the leaves of the cassia tree; suddenly, my throat felt blocked.
"Your Highness's painting skills are better than Shen Yue's."
"Of course." The corners of his mouth lifted. "This King learns everything quickly."
I couldn't help but laugh. He laughed too.
Outside the window, twilight had completely settled. The lanterns of Chang'an lit up one by one, from Chongren Ward to Zhuque Avenue, from East Market to West Market; the entire city seemed ignited.
"Qingyan," he suddenly spoke.
"Hmm?"
"Do you know what happened in court today?"
I paused. His tone had changed—not the relaxation of admiring lanterns, but something heavier, more profound.
"What happened?"
"Li Chengqi submitted a memorial," he said. "Not requesting external assignment. Formally resigning from the position of Crown Prince."
My fingers paused.
"When?"
"Today. In court. Before the entire assembly of civil and military officials." He leaned back, looking at the ceiling. "He said, 'Subject Chengqi, my talent is inferior to my second brother, my virtue unworthy of the heir position. I wish to be an idle man, dedicating myself to landscapes and waters.'"
As he repeated these words, his voice was calm. But I saw his fingers gripping the teacup tighten, his knuckles turning white.
"Your Highness—"
"Do you know, Qingyan, that when he said these words, his hands were trembling?"
He turned to look at me. The lamplight reflected in his eyes, flickering.
"His hands were trembling, but his voice was steady. Word by word, clearly spoken. After finishing, he looked at me—he glanced at me."
"What kind of look?"
"It was like—" He paused. "Like he had put down something. Something very heavy."
I said nothing. Outside the window, the lights of Chang'an spread out in the night, like a galaxy on earth.
"Your Highness."
"Hmm?"
"Are you happy?"
He was silent for a long time.
"Happy," he said. "But for some reason, I don't feel happy."
I understood. The winner is not at ease; the loser is not at ease either. They were brothers. Brothers who grew up together. Brothers born from the same mother's womb.
"Your Highness."
"Hmm?"
"You said that after winning, you would treat Song Wang well."
"Yes."
"Then that is good."
He looked at me and suddenly smiled. That smile was light, faint, but his eyes were bright.
"Qingyan, do you know? Today in court, when Li Chengqi said those words, this King thought of someone."
"Who?"
"My mother," he said. "When she died, I was not by her side. I don't know what she said last, don't know if she had any unfinished business. But today, when Li Chengqi looked at me—I suddenly felt that Mother probably hoped to see this day too. Between brothers, no need to meet with swords drawn."
I stood before him, my throat tightly blocked.
"Your Highness."
"Hmm?"
"Your tangyuan has gone cold."
He paused. "What?"
"There is another bowl of tangyuan in the clinic. Wrapped by Qingyuan. You haven't eaten it."
He looked at me and suddenly laughed. "Good. Let's go back and eat."
Qujiang Pool
"Not yet." He stood up and walked to the door. "Come with me to a place."
"Where?"
"Qujiang Pool."
He led me across Zhuque Avenue and turned into a narrow alley. The alley was so narrow only two people could walk abreast. Lanterns also hung on the ward walls on both sides; not as magnificent as those on the main street, but quieter, gentler. The white paper lanterns swayed gently in the wind; light and shadow flowed on the walls like water waves.
He walked ahead of me, occasionally looking back to ensure I was following.
At the end of the alley, the view suddenly opened up.
It was Qujiang Pool.
I was stunned. The night at Qujiang Pool was even more beautiful than Zhuque Avenue. Cassia trees lined the pool; every three steps under the trees stood a lantern. The reflections of the lanterns fell on the water, shattered by the breeze into pieces of gold, as if someone had scattered stars into the pool. In the distance, the Ziyun Tower also hung with lanterns, layer upon layer, like a fairy palace floating on water.
There were stalls selling osmanthus cakes by the pool; steam rose from the steamers, mixing with the sweet scent of osmanthus. Several scholars were composing poems by the pool, their voices neither high nor low, carried by the wind in fragments. Someone was releasing river lanterns. Small paper boats carrying candles drifted slowly away with the current; the candlelight rocked on the water surface, like flowers blooming in the night.
I stood by the pool, mesmerized by those river lanterns.
"Qingyan," he called from behind.
I turned around. He stood under a cassia tree; his moon-white robe was dyed warm yellow by the lantern light, his cloak billowing slightly in the wind. Behind him, Qujiang Pool sparkled with countless lights, yet for some reason, my gaze couldn't move from his face. The scent of osmanthus drifted over in waves, so thick it seemed tangible.
"Does Your Highness often come to Qujiang Pool?" I asked.
"Not often." He paused. "I came once as a child. My father—then still the Prince of Xiang—brought me once. Since then, I never returned."
He didn't say why. But I understood. Later, his mother was赐死 (ordered to commit suicide) by Wu Zetian; he was trapped in the palace, walking on thin ice. Later still, Empress Wei plunged the government into chaos; he lay low for years until that rainy night when he led troops into the palace. He had no time to see the lanterns of Qujiang Pool.
"Then why come today?" I asked.
He looked at me. The night wind blew the stray hairs from his forehead, revealing a smooth brow. The lamplight reflected in his eyes, flickering.
"Because today, Li Chengqi yielded," he said. "This King—can finally come here."
He took something from his bosom and handed it to me. It was a river lantern. Very small, no bigger than a palm. Made of white paper, with a small osmanthus flower drawn on it. The veins of the petals were outlined with a brush, fine and dense, like a real flower pressed flat onto the paper.
"When did Your Highness prepare this?"
"This afternoon," he said. "After the ceremony, I made it casually."
I took the river lantern and examined it in my hand. The paper was thin, translucent; the petals of the osmanthus were drawn very finely, piece by piece.
"Make a wish," he said.
"What?"
"One must make a wish when releasing a river lantern. Didn't you know?"
"I knew. Just—" Just didn't expectyou to let me make a wish.
I squatted down and placed the river lantern on the water surface. The candlelight rocked in the ripples, like a tiny star. The water was very cold; the wind blew, making my hands tremble slightly, but he stood behind me, blocking most of the wind.
What wish should I make? Wish for the clinic's peace? Wish for patients to have no toothaches? Wish for Qingyuan and Shen Yue to succeed in their studies? Or wish—forhis safety?
I gently pushed the river lantern out. Ripples spread; the lantern drifted slowly away, mixing with other river lanterns, indistinguishable which was which. I squatted by the pool, watching that lantern drift farther and farther until it became a speck of faint light, merging into the distant lantern shadows.
"What did you wish for?" he asked from behind.
"I won't tell you. If told, it won't come true."
He laughed. That laughter was carried by the wind, very light, falling on the water surface, shattering along with the lantern shadows.
I stood up and turned around. He stood behind me, very close. Close enough for me to see the lamplight in his eyes, smell the faint agarwood scent on him, see the shadow his eyelashes cast on his face.
"Qingyan," his voice was very light.
"Hmm?"
"Do you know why this King brought you here?"
I shook my head.
He looked at me, silent. The water of Qujiang Pool flowed behind him; thousands of lantern shadows were not as bright as the light in his eyes.
"Because you said that after winning, I must treat Li Chengqi well," he said. "You are the only one who, after this King won, asked if I would treat him well."
He paused.
"You are the only one who made this King feel—that after winning, there are more important things."
The Return Journey
We walked slowly back along Qujiang Pool.
The cassia flowers by the pool were in full bloom, intoxicatingly fragrant. He walked on my left; his cloak occasionally brushed against the back of my hand when blown by the wind. This time, he didn't pull it back.
"Qingyan."
"Hmm?"
"Do you know? Today in court, after Li Chengqi finished speaking, Father asked me—'The position of Crown Prince, do you dare to accept it?'"
"How did Your Highness answer?"
"This King said—" He stopped walking and looked at me. "'Your son dares not decline.'"
Under the moonlight, his eyes were very bright.
"'Dares not decline.' Not 'dare not assume,' not 'unwilling.' But 'dares not decline.'" He smiled. "When I said these three words, I remembered what you said."
"What words?"
"You said to treat Li Chengqi well after winning. You said there are more important things after winning." He looked at me. "Qingyan, every word you said, this King remembers."
I said nothing. The wind blew; osmanthus flowers fell on his shoulder; he didn't brush them away.
"Your Highness."
"Hmm?"
"Will your clinic continue to operate forever?"
"It will."
"Then this King will come every year on the Festival of Xia Yuan."
"To do what?"
"To see your lantern." He paused. "To see you."
When we reached the clinic entrance, the lantern with the Moon Palace and cassia tree was still swaying gently in the wind. He untied the reins and mounted his horse.
"Your Highness, the tangyuan—"
"I'll come tomorrow to eat them." On horseback, he lowered his head to look at me. The lantern light behind him outlined his silhouette with a golden rim. "Tonight's moon is more beautiful than tangyuan."
He spurred his horse and left. The sound of hooves faded on the bluestone road, disappearing at the end of Zhuque Avenue.
I still stood at the door, clutching that lantern in my hand. My fingertips lightly stroked the cassia tree on the lantern's surface; the moonlight beneath the tree was still warm.
Qingyuan poked her head out from inside: "Third Lady, has His Highness left?"
"Yes."
"Where did you go?"
"Qujiang Pool."
"Qujiang Pool!" Her eyes lit up. "Was it beautiful?"
"Beautiful," I said.
The night wind of Chang'an blew from Zhuque Avenue, carrying the sweet scent of osmanthus and the moisture of distant Qujiang Pool. The lantern with the Moon Palace and cassia tree swayed gently overhead; the light and shadow fell on the door panel, just as when he left.
"Third Lady," Qingyuan whispered, "Song Wang yielded the position of Crown Prince. Is His Highness going to become Crown Prince?"
"Yes."
"Then when His Highness becomes Crown Prince, will he still come to the clinic?"
I looked at her and smiled. "He will. He promised."
That night, I sat in the consultation room and finished the bowl of cold tangyuan. The sesame filling had solidified, the skin was even thicker, but it was still sweet.
Outside the window, the moon of Chang'an was large and round, illuminating the entire Zhuque Avenue in white.
He said he would come tomorrow to eat tangyuan. Tomorrow, I will cook a fresh bowl for him.
Tanglong Year One, October 15th. Li Chengqi formally resigned from the position of Crown Prince in the court. This chess game finally saw its last stone placed.
And I am just his dentist. And can only be his dentist.
But that is enough.
(End of Chapter 6)