The Spirit of the Plum Blossom Tree (TSPBT) - 7. Chapter 7

The room grew quiet as I finished speaking, and only the sound of soft breathing could be heard. Dinner had come and gone in the form of some sweet pork and fried vegetables left on a tray outside the door, courtesy of his sister who steadily refused to listen any longer to his story.

Youya and Lian had already fallen asleep on their beds, their small faces relaxed into the dreams of youth. Standing, I stretched out my cramped leg muscles from sitting on stool for hours, hearing my joints pop and crack. Taking stiff steps, I made my way between both of them, pulling up their blankets and giving them a small kiss on each forehead.

As I bent over Youya, her dark eyes suddenly opened, gazing up at me with a curious expression, still drowsy from sleep. I blinked at her, and she blinked back, her lips opening as she prepared to whisper. “Jiujiu, why doesn’t Mama like this story?”

Struck by her question, I paused before straightening, perching on the edge of her bed. It appeared she had heard the exchange between them earlier at lunchtime, but that was no surprise. Youya had always been more perceptive than her younger twin.

Clearing my throat softly, I reached out to stroke her head soothingly. “Your mother… well, she hated it when I told it to her for the first time.” Looking up at the plain wall behind her bed, memories flashed before my eyes. I could still envision my younger sister, attempting to hold back tears but breaking down into sobs instead as I finished the story. For the next week following it, her eyes would be heavy whenever she saw me, and occasionally I would catch her standing still in the middle of a task, rubbing furiously at her face as tears streaked down her cheeks.

However it had affected me, it broke her fragile heart twice as much.

“Is it that bad?” She asked just as softly. I chuckled, brushing the bangs back from her forehead as I gave her a quick kiss upon it.

“You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

I made my way over to the door, but as I put my hand on the handle I heard the rustle of cloth as Youya sat up. “Jiujiu, are you sad?”

Taking a deep breath to speak past the ache in my chest, I turned and gave her the brightest smile I could muster. “Go to sleep, now.”

Stepping out quickly, I shut the door with a barely audible click behind me, continuing down the dark hallway to the front entrance. As I walked by the kitchen, I saw the light still on within, and saw my sister sitting alone at the table. A cloth she was using as a handkerchief was held tightly in her fist, and she stared off into space, not even noticing me as I went by. Stopping, I watched her for a moment, but when it was clear she would not leave her reverie, I sighed and left.

Standing on the curb outside her shikumen, I breathed in the cool night air, tugging the collar of my jacket up against the chill of the wind. It couldn’t shield me from the chill in my soul, however, and as I looked out into the night, I turned on my heel and began the walk home.

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The next time I visited my younger sister’s shikumen, it was four days later. She had called to say she would be out all day doing some shopping, and requested I come and watch the girls.

Barely a moment after I stepped inside, Lian was flying down the hallway towards me, and Youya’s head peeked around the corner from their room. “Jiujiu, Jiujiu! Tell us the story, tell us the story!”

Her enthusiasm was infectious, and I smiled as I lifted her up and put her on my shoulders. “But you fell asleep last time. Do you even remember where we left off?”

Lian tugged on my hair, eliciting a wince. “Of course I do! It was.. It was when.. um…”

“When he had just stepped outside after getting caught up in the spell with the doctor,” Youya intervened, saving her sister from further embarrassment. I glanced at her; she seemed in a fine mood, with no trace of the concern from the other night.

With Lian on my shoulders and Youya following behind, I made my way into the kitchen, seating them at the table as I rolled my shoulder blades from the strain. The girls were eager for the story to continue, so I began again as I sat down with them…

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Guan Hongye’s birthday was in a day, and Hong Shen was already sick of it. Over the last week, he had been poked, prodded, and bruised from being forced to have tailors take his measurements. Zi Sheng Shou did not make anything better as well, avoiding him at every moment possible and almost purposefully getting small cuts and scratches to annoy him with.

And with the Emperor’s decree forcing him to remain in the South Palace, he could go nowhere else to find women to fulfill his trial. It was maddeningly frustrating, but he at least became better at navigating the many halls and rooms of the place. He also began sword training in earnest, with a very sour-faced Guan Shixin as his sparring partner. But after the initial visit in the Emperor’s dining room, none of his other siblings bothered to see him again, a fact he did not miss.

When he had interrogated He Qing about it after seeing him in the halls, he gave a vague answer how they were still searching for his murderer and preparing for his coming birthday, but Hong Shen knew better. The Imperial family would have better things to do than the jobs of servants.

Nibbling on a blade of sweet grass, he leaned back against the outer wall of the South Palace, watching the wind move the branches of the trees before the entrance. After a particularly big gust, he caught a glimpse of something white through the leaves of the tall tree on the right, until it was hidden once more by the shifting limbs.

Taking out the sweet grass, he twirled it a few times around his fingers. Technically, the South Palace didn’t just mean the palace itself, it also referred to the gardens and plants around it. Surely he wouldn’t be disobeying the Emperor’s decree by leaving the building?

Ah, what was he thinking? The great Hong Shen wouldn’t be scared of some middle aged man in a decorative bathrobe!

Nodding to himself, he pushed up to a standing position, his black hanfu shifting with the movement. Without any further ado, he descended the several steps to the paved path below, stepping off the stones without hesitation onto the soft dirt to the right and tossing the blade of grass. The tree towered above him, even taller now that he was on ground level with it. But Hong Shen spared little attention for the tree, coming closer to the trunk and scanning the surrounding plants, searching for that glimpse of white. A moment later, he saw it again about 100 feet away, steady against the huge tree behind it.

He had studied enough of the architecture of the Palace to know that the Diao Hua Yuan was not too far from where he stood. Originally, the garden was meant for the Empress only, but as the Emperor had never seen fit to elevate any of his lovers to such a status, the garden belonged to the First Consort or Head Mother, Ri Chang. As he had yet to meet the woman, and had no desire to, Hong Shen had avoided the place, and hopefully he would not see her for a long time still.

Picking his way carefully across the ground so he would not trip over the undergrowth of plants, he reached the object that had captured his attention within a few moments. The white had been from a wreath of white flowers, freshly picked and weaved into a beautiful circle. The blossoms rested upon a simply carved block of stone extending up from the ground about a foot and a half tall.

There were no designs on the stone save for a small figure of a bird soaring across the grey expanse, above the characters for a name. Guan Boli.

Hong Shen scratched his head. It looked like a tombstone for an Imperial family member, judging by the name, but it was far from the Imperial grave site. And it was no name he reco-

“You!” Someone spat from behind him, and he spun to see a woman. She must have just arrived, for she carried another wreath of white flowers in her grasp.

Her hair was midnight black beneath the hood of her cloak, glossy straight against the fabric. Her cloak was long and shapeless, as colorless as her irises, which were a grey so pale they were almost white. The only jewelry to adorn her frame was a pair of golden earrings that looked like a swallow’s tail.

“Who are you?” Hong Shen asked defensively, but he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

“Don’t act stupid with me, boy,” the First Consort Ri Chang snapped, anger evident in her glare. “How dare you come to Boli’s grave after I’ve forbidden it! Especially since YOU were the one who killed him!”

He found himself taking a step back at the vehemence in her voice, raising his hands self consciously in defense. "What do you mean, I killed him? I don't even know who he is."

The look on her face could curdle milk. "Oh, so you made yourself forget, did you?" Her arm shot out, a slender finger pointing to the huge tree behind him. "Forgetting how it was you who put him in harms way on that old bonsai tree!"

Ri Chang's words faded away as he was hit with another memory, but this time it was a peaceful rather than painful transition.

"-and this bonsai tree here was planted by the First Emperor several centuries ago." A young boy of no more than thirteen years spoke from his seat on a wooden wheelchair, rolling the wheels closer to the large tree before them. Hongye moved to follow him, his 7 year old self hungry for adventure but repressing it out of respect for the boy.

"I know, I know. Boli, you've told me this a million times already!" He stamped his little foot on the ground, gazing eagerly up into the branches. He could already see all the handholds and footholds he would use to get up there, and he would show Boli just how strong he had become!

Boli laughed, a melodious sound one might expect would belong to a girl. Hongye didn't see any problem with it, but he had heard the things servants whispered behind closed doors; that Boli was fragile, just like glass. That he would never be able to fight like the other boys, and no woman in her right mind would take a cripple as a husband, not even if he was a prince. All their whisperings angered Hongye, and he had lashed out at them more than once for it, but that didn't stop them.

Boli didn't need to be strong; he would be strong enough for the both of them. He would become someone Boli could rely on, and no one would dare talk bad about him again!

"I'm going to climb to the top of that tree, just you watch!" He darted forwards as Boli called out for him to stop. Leaping onto the tree, his small brain quickly picked out all the best places for him to put his limbs, and he scurried up the trunk like a squirrel.

Hongye laughed, giddy with adrenaline as he got further and further up the tree. Finally, when he got tired, he paused, looking down to the ground, where Boli appeared as small as a mouse. "Can you see me?" He cupped his hands and shouted down, sticking his tongue out defiantly. But the branch he had perched on to rest suddenly released a loud crack, as it appeared to have already been cracked and hanging a bit off from the trunk. With Hongye's added weight, it finally snapped, and in a moment that felt like an eternity, it fell off, taking him with it.

He screamed, and he heard Boli cry out in alarm from below. Holding on to the branch for dear life, he plummeted towards the ground, the air stealing his breath away as he gained speed. Closing his eyes, he braced himself for impact, certain this would be where he died-

A cool breeze blew across his face and the back of his neck, carrying with it the scent of crushed flowers and snow. Arms encircled his waist, prying him off the broken branch seconds before it hit the ground. Then, just as soon as they appeared, they vanished, dropping him unceremoniously upon the dirt, where he rolled a few feet before stopping.

Paralyzed for a moment, he lay still, gathering his bearings and realizing he wasn't a flat pancake upon the ground. Once it hit him, Hongye shot up, spinning back in the direction of the tree. "Boli?"

He saw Boli's wheelchair, shockingly empty. That was strange, Boli never stood; it was only when he needed to use the chamber pot or getting into bed that he left the chair because of his legs that had been deformed since birth.

A moment later, he spotted Boli. And the broken branch.

"BOLI!" Hongye rushed towards his older brother, the only one who actually cared about him in this forsaken world. The one who held his hand when he had nightmares, and told him stories to get him to calm down. The one who had brought him mooncakes during the Autumn Moon Festivals when he had been locked in his room as punishment, suffering from lash wounds.

The one who now lay crushed beneath the weight of a falling branch, smiling weakly up at him as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. "You're.. alright?"

"Yeah, I am! And you are too, right?" He frantically pushed the heavy branch off, moving it only a few inches as he cried out in desperation, putting all his meager strength into it.

"Don't..." Boli reached out a shaky hand, grasping Hongye's arm as he coughed up a mouthful of blood. "Stay... safe.. ok?"

Hongye wailed in anguish, grabbing Boli's hand and squeezing it tightly as he watched his beautiful blue eyes go dark...

Hong Shen turned away from Ri Chang, feeling something wet on his cheeks. Reaching up with a tentative finger, he felt the tears pouring down from his eyes as a dull ache erupted in his chest. No, not his chest. Guan Hongye's chest.

It was in this very spot that Guan Boli had died, and it had been entirely Guan Hongye's fault. He felt racked with guilt and pain, but none of it was his own; all of it belonged to the host.

"Oh yes, I remember," Hong Shen said, his voice hoarse. And I wish I bloody didn't.