On the fifth day after Frost's Descent, the leaden clouds finally cracked over the Forbidden City, and snow flakes like broken jade fell, coating the glazed tiles of the Hall of Supreme Harmony with a thin layer of frost. Jiang Yan crossed the steps of the imperial court, carrying a stack of fragments of the Yongle Encyclopedia. His official boots treaded on the bluestone slabs, and the crackling of icicles mixed with the clinking of iron bridles on the eaves, faintly scattering across the empty palace avenue. The pages in his arms smelt of the cool fragrance of aged ink, and his fingertips, caressing the plain white cotton paper from the Xuande era, felt the subtle wrinkles of time, like the veins on the back of an old man's hand.
In Wenyuan Pavilion, a bronze crane incense burner burned camphor, smoke curling from its beak, weaving a hazy veil between the beams and pillars. Jiang Yan gently placed the remaining scroll on the carved pearwood table and just as he drew out a wolf-hair whisk, Eunuch Li rushed in, puffing out white air. Snowflakes from his sable coat rustled onto the golden tile floor, and the pearl pendant on the end of his whisk dazzled. "Master Jiang, Master Jiang!" He leaned against the doorframe, panting for a long moment, the ice crystals on his goatee melting into thin streams of water. "The Emperor has sent me again to invite...invite your wife into the palace."
The wolf-hair brush clunked onto the imperial edict, the thick ink spreading across the outline of the character "Yongle" like a red plum blossom blooming in the snow. Jiang Yan adjusted his crystal glasses, the mist on the lenses further clouding with the warm air from his breath. "Eunuch Li, I'm currently reviewing the 'Pepper Planting Chapter' in the 'Qimin Yaoshu' (Essential Techniques for the People of Qi). I only found the annotated edition from the Yuanyou era yesterday in the cabinet archives..."
"Oh, my Lord Jiang!" Eunuch Li stamped his foot, ice shards from the soles of his boots splashing onto the desk. "The Emperor said that Madam Su's story of 'The Flying Fox' is a hundred times more interesting than this crappy book!" He lowered his voice, and as he leaned in close, he could smell the ambergris emanating from the man's fox fur. "The Empress Dowager and the Empress Dowager are waiting in the warm room. They've even had the imperial kitchen prepare your wife's favorite steamed cheese with freshly imported rose water."
The snow outside the window gradually thickened, making a rustling sound as it hit the window lattice paper. Jiang Yan looked at the Hui ink ground in the inkstone, and remembered Su Jinli sitting in the bookstore three days ago, using a cinnabar brush to circle and dot the story of "The Oil Seller", with the jasmine on her temples stained with the scent of ink. He took another purple-hair brush from the pen holder and wrote a few lines of small regular script on the rice paper. The ink spread very quickly on the rice paper: "Madam, please go away. I'm proofreading the 'Method of Pickling Chili Peppers'. I'll make some for you to go with the glutinous rice porridge tonight." As he folded the letter, his fingertips brushed over the word "chili peppers", and he suddenly remembered Su Jinli squatting in her own vegetable garden in late autumn last year, her red cotton-padded jacket against the backdrop of green garlic, her nose red from the cold.
At that time, Su Jinli was checking out a newly published storybook at Wenxin Bookstore on Liulichang West Street. A sample engraving of "The Oil Seller's Monopoly on the Courtesan" lay on her desk, her cinnabar pen hovering over the line "Qin Zhong spread out his sleeves, wrapped the silver, and tied it tightly around his waist." Suddenly, Lingge exclaimed outside, "Miss, Eunuch Li from the palace is here again!" Before she could finish her words, an old eunuch in a navy blue cloak had already lifted the cotton curtain and entered. As he bent, the red tassel on his hat brushed the door frame, bringing out a string of snow-white beads. "Madam Su, the Emperor is waiting to listen to the story in the Qianqing Palace. The Empress Dowager also said she has a heater ready for you."
The bookshop assistants all stopped their work and watched as Su Jinli placed her cinnabar brush on the pen holder. A drop of cinnabar still hung from the tip, as if about to fall into the story of Qin Zhong in the storybook. She took the gilded lacquer box Lingge handed her and opened it. The scent of camphorwood mixed with the odor of mold emanated from it. Inside was a stone-blue palace dress, with a lotus pattern embroidered densely with silver thread, but the collar and cuffs were stained with the unique dampness of the warehouse. "Going again?" Su Jinli's fingertips traced the cool satin, remembering how the emperor had thrown ambergris cakes like firecrackers when they were talking about "The Fox Marrying" in the Cining Palace three days ago. "We just talked about "The Nine-Tailed Fox Marrying His Daughter" the other day. Could it be that the emperor is listening to this as "Biographies of Women"?
Lingge helped her unbutton her plain bodice, which she wore at home. The pearl hairpins at her temples jingled against the dressing mirror. A piece of letter slipped out of the account book and landed on her lap. Jiang Yan's small calligraphy was neat, the last stroke of the character "菜" (vegetables) in "下饭小菜" (small dishes) playfully hooked, as if to capture the heart's heart. Su Jinli folded the letter into a small square and slipped it into her sleeve pocket. Suddenly, she felt something smooth and hard against the bottom of her sleeve—the hand-warming jade that Jiang Yan had found at Liulichang last month, still warm from his palm.
A light layer of snow covered the gilded bronze lions at the palace gates. As Su Jinli climbed into the sedan chair, she heard the bearers' crunching icicles. The sedan swayed through Yongxiang. The vermilion lacquer of the palace walls on either side seemed dull in the snowy light. The moss at the base of the walls had frozen, like pieces of broken jade embedded in the cracks between the bricks. She lifted a corner of the curtain and saw the Forbidden City in the snow like rice paper splashed with light ink. The Chiwen of the Hall of Supreme Harmony stood in the wind and snow, icicles dangling from the eaves reflecting the skylight. It was as if she was transported back to a snowy night in her past life—when she was still the legitimate daughter of the Shangshu Mansion, kneeling under the corridor of Kunning Palace, holding a pregnancy-preserving medicine. The Empress's phoenix boots crushed the snow, and her pearl necklace shone coldly under the eaves.
Silver charcoal burned in the warm room of the Qianqing Palace, the smoke from the bronze crane incense burner interplaying beautifully with the icicles dangling from the eaves. The emperor, dressed in his moon-white formal attire, crouched on the ground, his nine-linked rings clacking. Upon seeing Su Jinli enter, he immediately tossed the rings to the young eunuch beside him, his dragon boots leaving two wet marks on the gold bricks. "Su Jinli! Tell me quickly, how did that flying fox scare off the white-browed tiger with chili powder? I had the imperial kitchen make spicy chicken yesterday, but it didn't taste the way you described!"
The Empress Dowager reclined on a fox-fur-covered couch, a gilded covered bowl steaming in her hands. Water droplets condensed on the rim, leaving a small circle on the brocade handkerchief. "Your Majesty has heard it three times," she handed the jade spoon to Su Jinli. The bowl of steamed yogurt, shrouded in rose jam, was as red as a newly blooming camellia. "I'd like to hear if the fox ever found the thousand-year-old Ganoderma lucidum?" As she spoke, a spark from the silvery charcoal in the stove erupted, landing on the hem of Su Jinli's slate-blue skirt and leaving a thin, almost invisible burn mark.
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