Meimei/Jiejie used between concubines: The Emperor’s lovers (concubines and the Empress), do not refer to each other by their names. They call each other jiejie or meimei, depending on who is older or younger.

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“I don’t really think he wants that protection 8^th-prince.” Zitao said. He glared angrily at Yifan before stalking off in a huff.

Yifan sighed, turning to lean against the wall, staring up at the sky. “Why did I say that…” he muttered.

“8^th-ge, you’ll get your clothes dirty by leaning against that wall you know.” Canlie said, a twinkle of laughter in the 10^th prince’s eyes.

“Not funny.” Yifan replied, not in the mood for Canlie’s usual happiness.

“What happened?” Baixian asked.

“Yixing.”

One word summed up a lot, especially in the way that Yifan said it. Baixian and Canlie exchanged looks, not wanting to press any further, for fear of evoking Yifan’s unstoppable anger.

“Want to work it off?” Canlie suggested.

Yifan smiled. “Gladly.”

***

“My idea was ingenious.” Consort Jia declared. Zitao stared at the woman with disbelief. It had been his idea, not hers!

“Of course, it was. Consort Jia always makes the best decisions.” Minying simpered. Xiuzhi nodded vigorously, turning to give stares that suggested a challenge towards Zitao. Zitao clenched his fists and bit his lip from yelling to Consort Jia that the idea was his, and she had no right to say that it was her original idea. Copyright!

“Zitao. Send the 8^th-prince to me. I need to talk to him.” Consort Jia ordered. Zitao stiffened. He was not in the mood to see that man right now. The sight of him made his blood boil with anger.

“At once.”

***

Working out one’s anger was easier said than done, when the involved was Yifan and Yixing was the cause of his anger. Yifan was ‘fighting’ with Canlie and Baixian, it was 2 against 1 and he was winning by far.

“Ow!” Baixian stated, after falling down pretty hard for the umpteenth time. Yifan stared at Baixian with a small sort of apology, but clearly he was still pretty upset. Baixian and an inkling that Yixing was perhaps not the only cause of his anger.

The princes were in an outer quad, just outside their quarters. They had changed their clothes into ones used for martial arts practise. All princes took martial arts, it was part of their repertoire, after all martial arts makes one seem quite a lot stronger. And Yifan, out of the 3 present, Yifan was the best. In fact, Yifan was probably one of the best out of all the princes, being contested for his seat by none other than Yixing. The two’s rivalry extended anywhere and everywhere.

“You’re not too bad.”

At the sound of Zitao’s voice, Yifan instinctively started to smile. But he quickly gathered his senses, wearing a stoned face as he turned around to face the palace maid.

“I’m the best.” Yifan bragged, with a small smirk. Zitao rolled his eyes, walking closer to where the 8^th prince was standing.

“I’m better.” Zitao said.

“Oh really? Would you like to play then?” Yifan said. Zitao was a palace maid, but Yifan was starting to suspect that Zitao was probably letting on a lot less than what he actually was. Hopefully, Zitao’s competitive spirit would flare up at Yifan’s challenge, and Yifan would truly get his answers. It would have been impossible for women of the Qing Dynasty to know any form of martial arts, or self defence, or anything that wasn’t feminie.

“Prepare to lose then, 8^th-prince.” Zitao laughed, jumping onto the stage where Yifan was standing. The ‘stage’ was really simple a wooden block, a step high then the ground, so that they knew where the boundaries were.

“You’re going to fight in that?” Yifan pointedly said, gesturing to the pink palace maid uniform Zitao was wearing. Zitao formed an ‘O’ with his mouth, he had clearly not thought about that problem.

“9^th-di, 10^th-di, Zitao is pretty tall. She could probably borrow your training clothes for a while, right?” Yifan said. Baixian stared at Zitao, deeming the palace maid taller than him, thus Canlie was left to lend his clothes. And Canlie being the ever happy prince he was, did it without complaint. Zitao gracefully accepted, it, going into a room to change his attire. Yifan waited, bored but anticipating as Zitao changed.

“I’m done.” Zitao announced, coming out of the room dressed in Canlie’s clothes for martial arts. Yifan stared. The clothes that the princes had for martial arts practise were loose, to allow movement. The top was white, while the pants were red. Zitao in that clothing, looked much better than when he was wearing the palace maid uniform. His face might look feminine, but his body was toned by his Wushu practise, coupled together with the fact he was a pretty tall guy, and that gave a quite awkward palace maid image. In the martial arts clothing, he fitted the part very well, extremely well in fact. It probably looked better on him than it ever did on Canlie.

“Do I have something on my face?” Zitao pulled nervously on his clothes, turning around to find a mirror, but to his dismay, there were none. Yifan shook his head, motioning for Zitao to step onto the stage. Once he did, the two faced each other.

“Wushu?” Zitao asked. Yifan looked surprised for a while, before smirking, catching the two wooden sticks that Baixian had tossed to them. He threw one at Zitao, noting how the younger caught it with ease.

“Should we make the competition more interesting? How about a bet?” Yifan suggested, whirling the stick on his hands.

Zitao stared directly at the 8^th-prince. “Alright.”

“If I win, you will tell me the truth for an entire day.”

“Then when I win, you will leave me alone for an entire day.”

Yifan raised his eyebrow at Zitao’s phrasing, the way she said ‘when’ instead of ‘if’. “Confident, aren’t you?”

Zitao got into his ready position. “Of course.”

Yifan laughed in amusement, turning away from Zitao as he walked towards his end of the stage. “Start.”

The word had barely left Yifan’s mouth when Zitao made the first attack, leaping nimbly towards the 8^th-prince. Yifan dodged, eyes widening at the palace maid’s agility. That was not the speed or strength of a Qing Dynasty girl. A sharp pain behind his knees, stopped his thought, he hissed at Zitao, striking out himself and landing a hit on Zitao. Now Yifan attacked, which Zitao easily dodged, the palace maid feinted to the left before coming up behind the 8^th-prince. Yifan sighed in resignation when he felt the end of the wooden stick poking into his back.

“I win.” Zitao said. Baixian and Canlie gaped at the display. The last time someone had won over Yifan was quite a few years ago, when Yixing was less mature than he was now. Yifan had been incredibly annoyed at his loss and vowed to beat Yixing one day. But then the 4^th-prince started to refuse to participate in ‘childish practises’.

“I give you credit for that. But Zitao, do you know, that no girl would have ever been able to do that?” Yifan observed Zitao’s reaction carefully. The palace maid’s face drained of colour, a look of panic settling in Zitao’s eyes.

“I-I…” Zitao stuttered.

“And talking in first person to a prince, is something that everyone, not just Imperial servants, know should never be allowed.” Baixian added on. Zitao was silent, stumped for words.

“And you’re tall. Too tall. Taller than 9^th-ge here.” Canlie elbowed the prince in question, Baixian yelping then frowning. It was true, that the 9^th-prince was in fact shorter than Zitao.

Zitao looked around frantically. The 3 princes were giving him scrutinising stares, and they were hitting the nail right on the head.

“I won, so you have to leave me alone for a day. Starting now. Bye!” Zitao ran away, grabbing his palace maid uniform as he fled to his quarters. Luckily, the martial arts uniform which belonged to Canlie, found its way back to the 10^th-prince’s quarters within a few hours.

***

Yifan sighed in annoyance, propping his head up with his left hand, his elbow sitting on the table. His other hand strummed a random beat, the perfect picture of boredom. Yifan was currently sitting in one of the many balcony tea places. The place gave him the view of the gardens, and the Emperor was in the West side of the Forbidden City, meaning that this location was free. It was a pretty popular tea place anyway.

“I’m bored.” Yifan said, leaning backwards, folding his hands behind his head.

“Wow, I would have never noticed if you hadn’t told me.” Baixian said drily, turning to stare at the gardens. Baixian was leaning against a pillar.

“Is it because you have to stay away from that Zitao?” Canlie said curiously. Canlie was seated on the railing, leaning against one pillar. If someone so much as pushed him, he may as well go toppling to his death. But no one would ever do that to a prince, and Canlie’s reactions were pretty quick.

“Zitao… she interests me a lot.” Yifan mused.

“Is she really a girl? I mean, she clearly doesn’t look like one, but why would any sane male dress like a girl?” Baixian wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Maybe, Zitao is insane.” Canlie said in hushed tones, widening his eyes comically.

Yifan sighed. “You are useless.” He turned his attention back to the gardens. It was coincidental timing, as Consort Jia and her posse of maids were currently walking in it. Baixian and Canlie noticed Yifan’s sudden interest in the scenery, giving each other knowing looks.

***

“The Emperor lost interest in me again… going back to that Qian woman! I’m much prettier than her! Why is he so interested in her over me?!” Consort Jia raged.

“Consort Jia, perhaps the Emperor is intimidated by your youthfulness and beauty.” Minying said.

“Of course. I’m the most beautiful and have the most youthful looks. So I must put myself at a less intimidating level to the Emperor…” Consort Jia preened under the praise, murmuring to herself. Consort Jia and her palace maids rounded the corner, instantly stopping when they noticed another concubine in the same area.

“Meimei, how nice to see you here.”

“What are you doing in my garden, jiejie?” Consort Jia glared at the concubine. Instantly, the palace maid advisor to the right of the concubine bristled in anger, stepping out from behind her mistress.

“The nerve of you, to talk to Imperial Noble Consort Qian like that when you are simply a lowly Consort. And these gardens belong to the Emperor, simple because your quarters are the closest, does not mean that you own them. Bow down immediately to Imperial Noble Consort Qian!” The palace maid, Zitao recognised as Yiyun, the head palace maid. Filtering through his memories, he did recall that she served Imperial Noble Consort Qian.

“It’s alright, Yiyun. Do not worry yourself over that. Meimei, you need not listen.” Imperial Noble Consort Qian gave a gentle smile, raising a hand to stop both Yiyun from yelling and Consort Jia from bowing. Not that she ever had the intention to anyway.

“You would do well, to teach your maids not to be so… unladylike.” Consort Jia sneered, her lip curling in disgust as she stared at Yiyun. Yiyun stiffened readying herself for another attack.

“I will keep that in mind, thank you meimei.” Imperial Noble Consort Qian reached out to pick a blossom from the tree next to her. The flower petals were pink, and it was in full bloom,, the centre of the flower, on the inside was white. “The flowers are blooming beautifully this season.” Imperial Noble Consort Qian reached up to tuck the flower into Consort Jia’s hair. “Just like meimei, who grows more beautiful by the day.” She gave Consort Jia a smile, before turning around and leaving, Yiyun shooting a dirty look at Consort Jia before following her mistress.

Consort Jia shook silently with rage, her hands clenching into fists. She grabbed the flower out of her hair, staring at it in her hand with anger before crushing it and throwing it onto the ground, stomping her foot on it. “We’re leaving!” she yelled, stalking off in rage, causing her palace maids to run after her.

Consort Jia was a very temperamental person, Zitao noted. He hurried to catch up with the other palace maids, he was currently at the back. Zitao then got the feeling that he was being watched, craning his head around, his gaze settling on the balcony tea place which overlooked the garden. Zitao and Yifan locked eyes for a split second before Yifan turned away, ignoring Zitao. And Zitao didn’t like the hurtful pang that shot through his chest at that small action.

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A/N: It's a bit shorter than my usual chapter length, but it seemed like a good place to cut it off. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, though I'm frankly a little disappointed with myself for this chapter, but I can't rewrite it any better so... whatever.

- Lulu <3