I stared at her. “You gave him a portrait.”
How clever. She was a beautiful lady, and I could imagine how attractively she had painted herself.
She nodded. “What present did you give him?”
“I can’t paint, and I do not have anything valuable.” But wealth and treasure would not be what the Emperor sought, if he sought anything among us.
“You did give him something, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” I cleared my throat and recited:
“I have no beginning nor an end,
I have no mother nor a friend.
Seldom do I give you warning or fear,
but when you think of me, you shall shed a tear.
“So fair and just I’m known,
Like the wind and air that you cannot own,
On and on I shall continue,
When your heart hardens to a stone.”
Jewel arched her painted eyebrows. “What is that?”
“A riddle.”
She paused for a moment. “You gave the Emperor a riddle for his birthday?”
It was a good choice, I saw it in her eyes, for she looked surprised and then almost rueful, as though regretting why she had not thought of it. “Do you think he’ll like it?”
“I like it. An ingenious thought. But I have never heard of the verses. Where did you find the riddle?”
“I wrote it.”
She was quiet again. “I certainly did not expect a girl of your age would have such an inspiration—a riddle for the Emperor!—and express it so poetically. But I wonder. Are you not worried you would offend him? It is rather bold, isn’t it?”
It was risky. The Emperor owned everything and beyond, and what I said in the riddle could certainly be read as a challenge. “I took my chances.”
“So what is the answer?”
I told her.
“My sweet friend,” she said. “I hope this will earn you a summons.”
If she was distressed by the possibility that I would be summoned instead of her, I did not see it on her face.
The Emperor’s birthday came, and the celebration started. There were musician troupes, parades of floats, and festivals on the dragon boats, but none of us in the Yeting Court had the honor of attending. The Emperor did not summon the Xu Girl, Jewel, or me. Jewel was disappointed. “I should have known,” she said. “The Emperor is surrounded by beauties. My picture will not attract him.”
I shared her distress. It seemed my efforts were no better than drawings in the water.
? ? ?
Weeks passed. One day, a eunuch led me to the entrance of the Yeting Court, where two ministers—one old, one young—wearing black hats stood. They verified I was the sender of the riddle and then explained the reason for the interview. When they recorded the gifts, they said, some of the court scribes were intrigued by my riddle. They looked through the classics and consulted many books and songs, but they were unable to decipher it. The ministers wanted to know the answer.
“It’s time. The answer is time,” I said. It was a good sign. The ministers had noticed me. Perhaps the Emperor would notice me too.
“So where did you find the riddle?” the old minister asked.
When I explained I wrote it, he looked shocked. “Where did you get the idea to compose a riddle like that?”
I had to be careful. Anything I said could be my undoing. I replied, “I have the immense honor of serving the Emperor in this palace. Every morning, I rise from bed, checking my appearance in the bronze mirror. I look different from how I was at home. I thought of how wondrous time was and its mighty power to transform what we are and what we see. That is where I got my inspiration.”
The two ministers exchanged looks. The old one frowned while the young one’s face remained as blank as a swept courtyard. Then they left.
I wrung my hands. Were they going to report me to the Emperor? Had I offended him?
? ? ?
That night, the Selects were chattering about the Emperor again.
“I certainly hope a summons will come to us very soon,” one of them said. “He’s bound to like our gifts, isn’t he? Those gifts are expensive and unique.”
The others agreed. Certainly the Emperor would love the vests with the satin stitches, one said. Or rhinoceros horns, another added. Then they leaned over to the Xu Girl and murmured something.
“Yes, what a shame,” the Xu Girl said. Her voice was loud enough for everyone to hear. “When you’re poor and inept, what else can you give as a gift other than a stupid riddle?”
She was mocking me. She must have heard me explaining the riddle. I let her be. Criticism would not hurt me.