Chapter 1 — The Palm Reader

Normally, The Blue Parrot brothel and gambling den — the most popular one in Ash Town— didn’t open for business until the evening, but the owner made a special exception for when Luo Zhixiang decided to visit a bit earlier with the Crown Prince in tow. The men clambered in through the door unannounced and immediately, Luo Zhixiang began calling out the names of his favorite courtesans. The owner of the brothel was a tall, thin, grasshopper-like woman who went by the name Madam Rui. She had been seated at a mahjong table with three other women when the bachelors came in. She had stamped out a cigarette on a dinner platter and then stood to meet them.

“My girls won’t serve a couple of imbecilic illiterates!” she had shouted. These men obviously couldn’t read or they’d have noticed the sign by the doorway indicating The Blue Parrot’s hours of business. But once she was close enough, she staggered back. Lou Zhixiang was a frequent customer of her brothel, but the young man walking slightly behind him was new, and yet intimidatingly familiar. When the answer struck her, she inhaled sharply.

“Your Highness,” the woman said, her face becoming ashy and pale with shock at the sight. Immediately, everyone else in the room stood and then bowed deeply at the waist. Zhixiang scoffed while Yixing smiled politely and nodded.

“Forgive me, my liege,” Madam Rui said, not daring to look up. “I did not recognize you.”

“It’s no trouble, madam,” he said. 

Having been called by fancy titles and names all his life, Yixing was used to the “Your Highnesses” and “My lieges,” but it still felt oddly burdensome. Especially to be called so by a woman like Madam Rui, who looked as old as the universe and would dissolve at any moment and yet looked tough enough to beat him in a wrestling match at the same time. It was no surprise that she didn’t recognize him. He had snuck out of the Palace after procuring a set of peasants’ clothes from Zhixiang. Without his usual outfit of silk or brocade or intricate embroidery and woven golden thread, Yixing was a surprisingly — even painfully — average-looking young man. The only thing tying him to his royal heritage at this moment was the ring on his right hand. A gold signet with the Prince’s Seal on the bezel, which featured the characters forming his name flanked by two horned demons. Which he wore more out of a sense of guilt or obligation more than pride. 

“What amazes me,” Zhixiang said after they had been seated on a pair of couches further inside the establishment. “Is that you still come to The Blue Parrot even though the Palace harem has more beautiful women than any you could find here.”

The girl with her leg slung across Zhixiang’s lap struck his chest. “If that’s really how you think, then what are you doing here?” she whined. Yixing laughed but was suddenly surprised when he felt another pair of arms linking up to his. When he turned, he found another girl sitting beside him. Both women were wearing tight dresses with slits that went up the sides of their thighs. Zhixiang’s girl wore blue, and his wore green. When she smiled, it was charming, but it also reminded Yixing of a rabbit because of her teeth.

“Perhaps His Majesty comes to enjoy the riveting conversation, of course,” the girl said, her voice as high and melodic as a bell. Zhixiang laughed. In the corner of the room, Madam Rui had summoned an erhu player to provide some mood music, and Yixing could hear the commotion in the kitchens as Madam Rui shouted at the staff to cook something quickly. 

“I’m not ‘Your Majesty’ yet. And beside, you get tired of those Palace concubines pretty quickly,” Yixing answered. “Especially when you stop and consider that your father’s probably been with each and every one of them. Not exactly the most effective turn-on, don’t you think?”

“Your old man’s got game, I’ll give him that,” Zhixiang joked as the girl on his lap snuggled closer to him. “But don’t worry. A couple more years and it’ll be your harem instead of his.”

“And when that time comes, I hope you’ll remember me, Your Highness,” the girl beside him said. “I’ve never been to the Palace before. It must be beautiful inside.”

“Not nearly as beautiful as the two of you, however,” Zhixiang said, and the girl on his lap smacked him again for being corny. Yixing laughed a little.

“I guess beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” Yixing said. His cheerful spirits fell a little. “The Palace complex has over 500 buildings, was constructed originally about 3000 years ago, now, has survived hundreds of attacks, gone through countless renovations, and it looks like a Heavenly City on the Hill. If people think that’s beautiful, who am I to argue?”

Zhixiang groaned. “I hate when you get philosophical.”

Yixing laughed. “But it also depends on the vantage point. From the inside, I can tell you, ‘beautiful’ isn’t always the first word that comes to mind.”

“Then what does come to your mind?” the girl asked seductively. Yixing swallowed, trying to think of a word.

“‘Control,’ perhaps,” he said. The girl giggled.

“But isn’t control a good thing?” she asked. “Your family’s dynasty could hardly last these 3,000 years if they didn’t exercise a little control.”

Yixing shrugged. “Depends on who is doing the controlling, I guess. Or who is being controlled.”

The girl smiled, her plump red lips flattening into a line. “You will be the one in control soon,” she said.

“What are you blabbering on about, now?” Zhixiang jumped in. “Is this about the Mountain Princess again?”

Yixing looked at Zhixiang and was speechless. The older man scoffed.

“I should have known you were just running away again,” Zhixiang said, just as a waitress came over with a tray of food and drink and began arranging them on the table in front of the men. “For a moment, when you asked me to take you to The Blue Parrot, I thought you were serious. I should have known better than to think I could corrupt you, oh Great One. What’s this about then? What did I just break the rules to help you do?” 

Yixing pulled on the sleeves of his shirt nervously. “Nothing serious,” he said. “Though it does concern the Mountain Princess. My father wants me to give my permission to make the proposal today. He can’t make me do it if I’m not there.”

Zhixiang pushed the girl in blue aside for a moment to lean forward and look the prince in the eye. “You’re already at that stage, then?” he asked. “I don’t understand. I’ve heard nothing but wildly-spun tales of her cleverness and beauty, what’s holding you back?”

“Well, one, I’ve never met her before,” Yixing protested. “And, two, this is all just a ruse to get me to do more ‘kingly’ duties. He’s not even in his grave yet and already, he’s trying to make me do his job for him.”

“Isn’t that what princes are supposed to do, though?” Zhixiang asked. “Fill in for the king whenever he can?”

Yixing pursed his lips. “I know you think I’m being petty and ridiculous, but you don’t know my father like I do. And I… I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want to listen to what he has to say or what he has to teach me. A lot of good it did him, did it? I don’t think so.”

“Oh, please, Yixing,” Zhixiang said. “Not more of those mopey prince act. I, for one, agree with your father this once. It’s time you grew up and grew into your destiny.” 

“My destiny?” Yixing asked. The girls holding onto their arms had grown silent, feeling too awkward and unknowledgeable to contribute to the conversation but desperate to bring the atmosphere back to cheerful. Zhixiang shifted in his seat. 

“In just a few weeks’ time, it’ll be the 3,000th year of your family dynasty,” Zhixiang said. “Your ancestors built the greatest empire on earth from the ground up, and 3,000 years later, it survives. It’s almost time for you to continue that legacy. That’s your destiny isn’t it?”

Before Yixing could formulate an answer, the girls started to giggle again, eager to change the subject and make light of the situation once again. 

“All this talk of the future and destiny, honestly, who even knows what’s to come?” one girl said. “I say that the best time to live is in the present. Everything behind us and ahead could be just an hallucination for all we know.”

“I have an idea,” the other girl said, batting her eyelashes. “Let’s have our palms read!”

“Our palms read?” Zhixiang asked. “Well well well, my dear one, I had no idea you were as talented as that.”

The girl pushed at his arm. “Not me, stupid,” she teased. The waitress had just finished arranging the plates on the table when the girl reached out and tapped her arm. The waitress looked up with a single raised eyebrow and then stood with the tray held sideways with both hands. The courtesans smiled.

“This waitress reads palms,” the blue-clad courtesan said. “Whatever it is about your destiny you’re curious about, all she has to do is take a look at your hand to lay all your worries to rest.”

“Really now?” Zhixiang asked, leaning forward in curiosity. The waitress in question looked to be about the same age as the two courtesans, or perhaps a few years younger. She had long hair, plaited down her back, and wore a dark blue blouse and trousers that gave off the smell of grease and smoke. 

“And where did you pick up this unique talent?” Zhixiang asked. 

Most peasants were the same: shy, unable to look anyone in the eye for longer than a few seconds. And quiet. But the waitress looked both Yixing and Zhixiang in the eye and held her head up with distinction. The men were almost impressed. 

“From my mother, sir,” the waitress answered. Her voice was somewhat deep for a girl, just high enough it could belong to a teenaged boy. Zhixiang laughed a little and then turned to the girl next to him.

“Interesting development,” he said, complimenting the courtesan by his side. He turned to Yixing. “Has the Diviner at the Palace ever read your palm?”

Yixing shrugged. “I don’t think she reads palms. Or if she does, she’s never read mine.”

“Well, then, here’s your chance!” Zhixiang said. “My friend would like his palms read, please, miss.”

The waitress looked between he four people seated on the couches and then at the kitchen staff behind her. “I have work to do, sir, and my shift will be ending soon—,”

“Aww, come on! Just do his, then, I can come back another time and have mine read, but if the Palace Guard finds him here, you might never see him again! Go on, read his palm!”

The waitress looked at Yixing, as though for permission though there was no demure question in her gaze. Yixing sighed and relented. After freeing his arm from the grasp of the courtesan by his side, he stretched his left hand out to her. The waitress let the tray rest against the table and then walked up to Yixing. When she was close enough, however, she pushed his hand away. 

“Your right hand, please,” she said. The courtesans scoffed at the rudeness of her tone, but Yixing quietly obliged, stretching his other hand out to her. She took his hand into her slightly smaller ones and then look earnestly down at his palm. Her eyes scanned his palm for just a few seconds before she spoke.

“This line here,” she said, tracing the line that ran from the base of the wrist to the space between his thumb and index finger. “This is the Life Line, it can tell you about the kinds of encounters and experiences you will have in your life. Yours is long and deep, this means that you have robust health and are full of vitality.”

Zhixiang reached for a cup of wine and laughed. “We already knew that, though—,”

“However,” the waitress said, putting them all on the edge of their seats. She followed the line to the left side of the base of his palm, where the Life Line split in two. “The line is forked here, at the Lunar Mount. This means you