“He does not look happy,” I said. Father had said the Uncle had gone through many battles with Emperor Gaozu and helped found the dynasty. He would have been the one to inherit the throne if the Emperor had begotten no sons.
“For a good reason,” the lady with the blue gown said, pointing at Taizi as he left the ministers to kneel before the guest of honor, a tall man, to receive his three hats—a skintight silk wrapping, a leather cap, and a square black hat embroidered with golden dragons flying through clouds. Each hat carried profound meanings. The wrapping signified his responsibility as a man to himself, the cap to his family, and the black hat to society.
I understood immediately. The Adulthood Ceremony was one of the four most important ceremonies in a man’s life. The guest of honor, who would confer the hats on the heir, was supposed to be the most senior member of the imperial family, who I assumed would be the Uncle, but the man who held the wrapping appeared to be in middle age. “Who’s the guest of honor?”
“That’s the Duke, the late Empress’s brother, the Emperor’s brother-in-law,” the lady in the blue gown said. “He—”
The old lady coughed, and the lady in blue swallowed her words. I did not ask more questions. There was no need. Clearly, the Duke and the Uncle did not get along.
It was getting hot. The morning air turned fetid with the odor of scorched pigskin on the sacrificial tables and musk and camphor from burning incense. Layers of heavy clouds pressed against the roof of the Altar House. It would rain soon.
The ministers lined up before the platform to praise Taizi. First the Uncle, then a hunchbacked man wearing jade pendants, Chancellor Wei Zheng. Following him were more ministers. They bowed constantly, their heads springing up and down like hungry birds pecking at grain.
When they finished, the Duke cleared his throat and shouted from the platform. “Today, we are here to witness one of the most important rituals in life, the Adulthood Ceremony, for my great-nephew, our Taizi, Li Chengqian, the heir of Great China.” He held a wrapping above Taizi’s head. “I now have the honor to recognize you, the firstborn of the Li family, whose ancestry is of the most supreme in this kingdom, son of the late daughter of the Changsun clan, now a man worthy of trust. You shall prevail on occasions of stress and moments of adversity…”
I wiped the perspiration from my forehead. I was shorter than the women in front of me, and, for a long time, I did nothing but stare at their backs.
Finally, the Duke concluded the ceremony and people began to disperse, the tide pushing me toward the entrance gate. The guards on the other side of the ladies waved, shouting for us to return to the Yeting Court. Someone around me mentioned the feast, and the ministers became animated, rubbing their bleary eyes.
I craned my neck in time to see the Emperor enter the Altar House, accompanied by three Taoist priests with long ponytails. One sprinkled yellow water in the air, as if to prepare for a divination. I glanced at the guards standing near the entrance. If I left, I might never see the Emperor again. I ducked under the arm of a minister robed in purple, went behind a painted pillar, took another turn at a corridor, and scurried in the opposite direction.
At the end of the corridor stood a small door. I pushed it open and quickly shut it behind me. The door led to a small garden. An ancient oak, its trunk as large as a round table, stood to my right. Bundles of hay were stacked on the left. The place appeared to be a temporary stable for imperial members who lived outside the palace.
I decided to hide in the garden and wait for the guards and ministers to leave. Once no one was around, I would go out and see the Emperor.
“Who is it?” a voice called.
I jumped, my heart leaping to my throat. A guard? I must not be caught!
“Are you alone?” A boy poked his head above a stack of hay against the wall.
“Oh.” I was relieved. The boy pushed a bundle of hay away from his face and jumped to the ground, his arms casting a graceful curve in the air. “I’m… What are you doing back there?” I asked.
He did not seem to hear me. “Quick.” He whistled and patted the haystacks behind him. “Come out now.”
From where he had first appeared, a girl in a red gown stood. She climbed down and tidied her creased skirt. Glancing at me, she whispered in the boy’s ear. He nodded, and she ran to the door, covering her face with her sleeve, and disappeared through the entrance from where I had come.
The boy coughed. “Well… We were looking for something.”
“In the haystack?”
“Yes,” he said, a piece of straw dangling from his mouth.
“I see. Could it be a needle?” I said, trying to help him out. He looked my age but was taller than me and dressed in a plain white tunic, the color for a commoner. He had a well-chiseled face, a straight nose, and a square jaw. He was like an image whom a painter had taken great care to paint—and the most attractive boy I had ever seen.