The Jade phoenix manor

Dawn had not yet broken over the valley, but Yu Feng Shan Zhuang was already awake.

The manor sat on the slope like a sleeping beast of blue and red, its peacock-glazed tiles still wet with night dew, its vermilion pillars dark in the half-light. Mist pooled around its foundations and drifted over the hills beyond, where the Imperial City lay hidden. No sound came from within the house. Only the wind moved through the bamboo.

Below the main hall lay Shuang Sheng Chi.

The Twin Birth Pond was a contradiction that the old gardeners had long stopped trying to explain. Lotus and peony grew from the same water. Pink lotus stood tall on slender stems above the lily pads, their buds tight against the cold, while on the bank, peonies pushed their heavy heads forward, crimson and blush, petals loose and trembling. Three koi cut through the clear water, orange and white, leaving brief, vanishing ripples. A stone bridge, dark with moss, arched over the narrowest part. Willow branches hung low enough to brush the mist.

At the end of the path stood the gate.

Qing Tao Bie Yuan. The Clear Peach Retreat. Its doors were rosewood, painted red and studded with eighty-one golden nails, closed. Above it, a black plaque bore its name in gold. From the upturned eaves hung four Feng Lings — wind chimes in the shape of phoenixes standing on bronze pipes. When the wind touched them they sang, a clear, lonely ding-ling that carried across the empty courtyard. Petals had gathered thick on the steps, as if no foot had passed there for days.

In the peony courtyard, a girl stood among the flowers.

It was her eighteenth birthday.

Su Lian wore a red hanfu with wide sapphire-blue sleeves, the front embroidered with a golden phoenix rising from hem to chest, its tail dissolving into clouds and peonies. Her hair was long and straight and black, reaching past her waist, and in it sat the phoenix crown her mother had left her — gold, fierce, wings outspread, a pearl in its beak, with long blue silk tassels hanging past her shoulders and red coral peonies pinned at the sides. She did not move. The morning light fell on the gold of her crown and the gold of her dress.

Around her, peonies opened. Pink, red, white, all wet with dew. Behind her, the Lotus Pavilion's lanterns swayed, and on one of them, a small wooden plaque swung gently. It read: Eighteenth Birth — Coming of Age Rite. Someone had hung it before sunrise.

Far beyond the gate, beyond the peach corridor where petals still fell, a faint line of dust rose against the pale sky.

A faint line of dust rose against the pale sky

Someone was coming from the Imperial City.

At first it was just a line, thin like ink brushed across the horizon. Then it got thicker. The wind was blowing it forward, and with it came a sound that Su Lian had heard three times before. Hooves. One horse running too fast.

He entered Tao Hua Lang without slowing. A dragon guard in black armor, a yellow flag on his back with black dragon on it. The flag was snapping loud. Petals exploded around him as he rode, sticking to his armor, to his horse's legs. He didnt look at the peach blossoms, dragon guards never look. He rode straight past the Twin Birth Pond where the koi dived deep and disappeared, past the Lotus Pavilion where the small wooden plaque for her birthday was still swinging.

He stopped before the Vermilion Gate. The gate was closed. He jumped down and his boots crushed the pink snow on the steps.

Inside, Mama Zhou was already on her knees.

She had been kneeling since she heard the first hoof. Her old knees hurt, but she didnt stand. Her blue apron was dusty with petals that had blown in. She kept looking at the open doors, at the dust outside that was now bigger. She knew what four decrees meant in this empire. Three times you can say you are sick. Fourth time you are traitor.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***