FMA: The Tale of Three Meis (2/2)
Part 1
When Mei returned to her home that afternoon, mind so full that she did not even notice the panda’s claws digging into her shoulder, she found her aunt nearly prostrate before her.
“Please forgive me, Your Highness,” Dongmei murmured, hiding her face. “I have been untruthful to you.”
“Aunt!” Mei dropped to her knees and hurriedly pulled on one of her aunt’s sleeves; distantly, she noticed the panda plucking at the other sleeve, squeaking in a distress that mirrored her own. Slowly Dongmei rose to a sitting position, though she still refused to meet Mei’s eyes. “No, my honored aunt, please do not do this. It is unnecessary. Please.”
“I must beg forgiveness from Your Highness.”
“No, you must not!”
“I lied to Your Highness about visiting Master Ru.”
“I do not care, aunt. I do not hold it against you.”
Dongmei glanced up into Mei’s anxious face. “Forgive me, Your Highness. But I did not know - after what happened to Nianzu Feng-”
“There is nothing to forgive, honorable aunt.” Dongmei seemed on the verge of protesting, but Mei added, “Please, aunt. I understand.” And for the first time, Mei suddenly thought how lonely and hard it must be for her aunt, with no other family around but a young princess for whom she was completely responsible, with her sister in the capital city hundreds of miles away. “I - I am sorry for troubling you so much. Will you forgive me?”
“Of course, Your Highness.” Dongmei’s words were formal but her tone was not; without hesitation Mei flung herself into her aunt’s arms. The panda jumped to the top of Mei’s head and clung to her hair as the humans hugged. Mei sniffled as they parted. Dongmei cleared her throat, exhaling shakily. “Now. Would Your Highness like to eat dinner, and tell me of your day?”
~-~-~-~-
Truthfully, Mei was too old for bedtime stories. Occasionally, she circumvented this by asking her aunt to read to her from a book before they went to bed, as she did that night.
Dongmei, who had continued in her unusual soft-heartedness for that entire afternoon, merely sighed. “Which book, Your Highness?”
“Oh, Xiao Mei will choose,” Mei replied flippantly as she brushed out her hair.
Her aunt paused as the panda crawled down Mei’s arm and began inspecting the bookshelf. “Xiao Mei?” she repeated. That flat tone had returned to her voice.
Mei felt a rush of embarrassment. The name had popped out without her quite meaning it to. “The alkahestrists seemed to think she was my sister today,” she explained, devoting all of her attention to her hair and brush.
She couldn’t see her aunt’s face, and Dongmei didn’t say anything until the panda nosed one book away from the others, making a high-pitched grunt of exertion when it fell over. Dongmei read the title aloud. “The Legend of the White Snake.”
“Oh!” Mei gasped, turning around. That book was one of her mother’s; Mei had always wanted to read it, but her aunt insisted that she was too young. She bit her lip as the extremely satisfied-looking panda scrambled back up to her shoulder. Her aunt’s face was unreadable. “Of course you don’t have to read it, aunt,” Mei said, struggling not to show her disappointment.
Dongmei looked at the book, then back up at Mei. “If you are going to be an alkahestrist, Your Highness, I suppose I should stop treating you as a child.” Then she smiled briefly. “Somewhat, at least.”
“Thank you, aunt!” Mei turned to hide her broad smile. “Thank you, Xiao Mei,” she whispered, patting the panda’s nose.
The panda hummed happily and snapped at her fingers.
~-~-~-~-
“Qi is found in all things,” Qiaolian intoned. Just as they had the day before, she and Mei were both sitting on blankets in the small, barely-lit room. After a bit of inquisitive scurrying and sniffing, the panda had decided to perch on a corner of Mei’s blanket. Mei’s eyes were closed, but she could feel the cub’s warmth near her knee. “Living things and non-living have qi,” Qiaolian went on. “A mountain has qi, but so does a butterfly. It is easier to sense qi of the living - it is more active and therefore more vibrant, so it is more useful for training.”
Mei’s eyes fluttered open before she remembered to keep them shut. “Is that why we are alone here?” she asked, hastily adding, “Teacher.”
“Yes,” Qiaolian replied. “Even were the three of us to sit in a garden, for instance, the qi of the plants alone could be overwhelming to you as a beginner. Now, concentrate inwards. Feel your own qi, the way the dragon’s pulse hums through you.”
Mei inhaled slowly. They had done this exercise yesterday, but she still had to fight down excitement when she recognized the qi that was hers.
“Very good.” Qiaolian’s voice was serenely approving. “Focus on your qi. Let all else fade away.”
Mei felt sweat popping out on her forehead from the strain. She fought to direct her attention to her qi, but a noise on the edge of her hearing distracted her. It was - a snore? It’s just Xiao Mei, she realized, deciding to ignore it. Wait, she thought, Xiao Mei has never snored when she’s sleeping at night… Her mild feeling of shame sparked into indignation. She’s faking it!
“Xiao Mei!” she snapped, eyes opening and darting to the panda of their own accord. The cub was sprawled on her back, all four legs thrown about as her snoring grew louder. Mei could almost see a look of impish glee on the panda’s face. “Bad Xiao Mei!” she scolded, scooping her up in one hand and wagging her finger sternly. “You are supposed to be concentrating, not acting like a mindless brat from the Yao clan!”
The panda ignored her completely, curling into a ball in Mei’s palm and snoring in an outrageously loud manner.
“Xiao Mei,” Qiaolian said softly. Both panda and girl froze. “It is all right, princess. Xiao Mei already knows about qi.”
“She does?” Mei asked. The panda peered over the edges of her fingers and looked at Qiaolian, head tilted to one side.
“Of course. Animals have an innate sense of qi. Humans are at a disadvantage because they must learn on their own.”
The panda sat up in Mei’s hand, radiating smugness. Mei set her back on the ground and stuck out her tongue when Qiaolian’s eyes shut. The panda returned the gesture and Mei huffed.
Neither of them saw Qiaolian’s lips curve briefly upward.
~-~-~-~-
After much pleading from Mei (earnestly imitated by the panda, who was now rarely found somewhere other than the girl’s shoulder), Dongmei had commissioned a set of tiny kuaizi and brushes for the panda’s use. Whatever misgivings her aunt might have had about the practicality of buying eating utensils and writing instruments for a bad-tempered panda cub (and Mei was sure she had some, even if she kept them to herself) were quickly allayed when the panda immediately began using them as often as the humans did. Her proficiency with them left a little to be desired - more than one meal ended with Mei flipping grains of rice into the air for the panda to catch when she grew too impatient to use her kuaizi - but Mei thought her aunt couldn’t complain about that too much. After all, it wasn’t as though a pet dog or cat could be nearly as talented as her panda companion.
Dongmei bought one more item for the panda at the same time. “In honor of Your Highness beginning her studies in alkahestry,” she murmured as Mei eagerly pulled away the cloth wrapping it.
“Oh, aunt!” Mei exclaimed when she found the small, finely crafted comb and brush inside. She lifted them up for the panda to sniff at. “Thank you.” They were not delicate pieces but well made and practical, the comb with sturdy wooden tines and the brush with short, thick bristles.
“My only stipulation, Your Highness, is that you make use of them,” Dongmei said significantly.
The panda squeaked in an affronted manner when Mei grinned at her. “You know what that means, Xiao Mei,” she said brightly. “Time for a bath!”
As she had when Mei washed her face days earlier, the panda resisted all of Mei’s efforts to dunk her in the bucket of river water. “Stop it, Xiao Mei!” Mei panted, trying to maintain her hold on the panda without being bitten by her small, sharp teeth. “You’re not the only person who takes baths, you know!”
Finally, she managed to submerge the cub completely. When she picked the panda back out of the water, her companion was clearly bitter about the entire process. She no longer squirmed and struggled, but she sagged in Mei’s grip, deliberately flopping first one way and then the next in the most uncooperative manner possible.
“Useless Tong monster.” Mei scrubbed determinedly at the bottom of her panda’s feet. “Shameless Wan dog!” She rubbed the panda’s fur dry briskly. “White-eyed Yao-”
“Your Highness!” Dongmei snapped from the next room.
Mei placed both hands over her mouth. She hadn’t realized how loudly she had been insulting the contrary panda. “Forgive me, aunt,” she called back.
The panda, sensing Mei’s attention was elsewhere, suddenly rolled to her feet and attempted an escape, but Mei threw the towel like a net and caught her neatly.
“Xiao Mei, don’t do that again, you daughter of a turtle-”
“Your Highness!”
Mei yelped. “I won’t do it again!” And while she combed the knots out of the fidgeting panda’s fur and brushed it into fluffy softness, Mei was obligingly silent.
Mentally, however, she called her panda the most horrible names an eight-year-old princess could devise.
~-~-~-~-
“Concentrate, princess. Use your qi. Feel its flow.”
Mei focused, too preoccupied even to bite at her lip. After much practice, she was able to sense her own qi at will, but today Qiaolian had started her on the next aspect of her training, which was necessarily more difficult.
“Qi flows through you as it does through me,” Qiaolian’s steady voice continued. Mei’s eyes flickered behind the blindfold, instinctively trying to follow the sound before she stilled them. “There is a flow to everything in the world; this flow is its qi. Use your qi to feel it.”
Once more Mei was sitting in the room where she and her master had been meeting for days, though this time Qiaolian may well have doused the candles for all Mei could tell. Instead of sensing her own qi, Mei’s newest task was to seek out and identify the qi of something else.
“It is unlikely that you will be able to sense the qi of inanimate objects,” Qiaolian had explained as she tied the cloth behind Mei’s head. “But it is easiest to begin in as simple an environment as possible. Distractions create clutter; clutter creates uncertainty. I will speak to you at first, but if sound becomes a distraction we will block that as well.”
“Qi flows through the earth. Qi flows through the air,” Qiaolian said now, the drone of her voice not at all soothing. “The pulse of the dragon is the movement of this flow. Feel it.”
Mei clenched her teeth. Her own qi quivered with the force of her concentration. She could feel it, with a sense that was not quite sight, not quite touch, but a little bit of both. She strained to find a hint of another qi, forced herself to breathe steadily, fought to use her own qi…
Suddenly she gasped, eyes flying open despite the blindfold. There, just there, was qi that was wholly unconnected with her. It seemed - smaller, somehow, than her own - not weaker, exactly, but fainter. Perhaps qi dimmed with age; she had never thought to ask before, though now the question seemed rather rude. She did not think she would dare to ask it of Mistress Qiaolian.
Firmly, she raised her hand and pointed straight at the other qi. Her own continued to pound with the intensity of her effort. “I sense qi there, teacher.”
Qiaolian did not sound surprised when she replied. “Do you?”
Mei faltered, but the qi did not change. She knew it was there; she was not imagining it. “Yes, teacher.”
There was a short pause. “And now?”
“I still sense it.”
Another pause, and this time the qi moved. Mei followed it as best she could until it halted again, somewhere to her right. “Now it is there,” she said without being prompted.
“Describe this qi.” Qiaolian seemed to be directly behind her.
“It is - lighter, I think, than mine.” Mei puzzled over the words, but they were the best ones she could find. “Not as…” She caught herself before she said ‘strong’. “…large. Maybe… faster? No - more rapid. Something like that.” She sighed. “I am sorry, Mistress Qiaolian. I don’t think I’m explaining it very well.”
Qiaolian chuckled, a short, low sound. “Nonsense, princess. You are doing very well. In time, you will be better able to describe different qi, and better able to recognize them as well.”
Mei opened her mouth to ask what that meant, when she realized that Qiaolian’s voice had come from behind her, and very close by. The qi had not moved again from its position, off to her right and much farther away.
Fingers worked at the knotted cloth and pulled it away from her eyes. Mei blinked in the candlelight, trying to readjust her vision. “I do not think any of us are surprised about this,” Qiaolian said, pointing at the qi Mei had sensed - was still sensing, in fact, despite the removal of the blindfold.
“Xiao Mei!” she exclaimed. Her panda yawned, pink tongue flickering out briefly before she scrambled over to Mei’s shoe and crawled up her clothes, finally resting on Mei’s shoulder. Mei turned to her teacher, who looked content as she folded the cloth back up again.
“I told you before that all things have qi, even animals and little sisters,” Qiaolian said mildly.
“But… wouldn’t your qi have been easier for me to sense?” Mei asked. The panda on her shoulder was a familiar warmth through her sleeve. “We are both people, and Xiao Mei -”
“The easiest qi to sense is that most similar to your own,” Qiaolian interrupted. Mei continued to gape, and there was the faint hint of a smile on Qiaolian’s face as she said, “I think that enough for today’s lesson, princess.”
~-~-~-~-
Mei eagerly undid her braids, unable to stifle an excited grin. She shook her loose hair back and closed her eyes, bringing forth her qi as she had been practicing. Almost instantly, she was aware of her panda by her side and, in the next room, her aunt preparing their sleeping mats. Technically, she had known what Dongmei was doing already - and with her eyes open, the panda would have been easily visible - but being able to sense their qi was more exciting, now that it came easily to her. She was certain she could have picked out their qi from a crowd - the panda’s small but vibrant, her aunt’s steady except for a slight flicker around the edges. Qiaolian refused to explain what a qi’s appearance meant, stating that, in time, Mei would learn to interpret it for herself.
Movement of the brush in her hair made her eyes open. The qi slowly faded from her awareness. Qiaolian said that eventually she would always be able to sense qi without keeping her eyes closed, but she was not quite there yet. Still. Qiaolian had informed her that she had advanced enough that they could now begin a different phase of her training.
“Tomorrow, Xiao Mei,” she whispered. “Tomorrow, I’ll finally do some real alkahestry. Can you believe it?”
Behind her, the panda squeaked excitedly as she ran through the brush through Mei’s hair. She still hated being bathed - in the wild, Mei guessed, panda cubs didn’t usually plunge themselves into water to get clean - but she had come to enjoy the regular brushing of her fur. She had also begun brushing Mei’s hair every night before bed, as if to reciprocate Mei brushing her fur every morning.
“And Mistress Qiaolian said we would begin our combat training too!” Mei continued, once more bubbling with excitement. “I can’t wait-” Mei cut herself off, hissing as the brush caught in her hair. “Ow!”
The panda yelped, a sound Mei recognized as impatience.
“That hurt, Xiao Mei!”
The panda growled, yanking the brush through the snarl. This time, Mei was the one to yelp.
“Xiao Mei! You’re pulling my hair out!”
The panda squeaked again as she picked at the strands now stuck in the bristles of the brush.
“I don’t care if it’ll grow back!” Mei grabbed at the panda. “How would you like to have your fur torn out?”
The panda scampered across Mei’s shoulder and down her back, clinging to her blouse with sharp claws. Mei turned around, trying to catch her, but the panda darted off, brush clamped in her teeth. Dongmei stepped into the room, one eyebrow raised questioningly, and the panda scampered up her leg and side to perch on her shoulder.
Dongmei arched her other eyebrow. “Are you fighting with your companion, Your Highness?” she asked mildly. Holding the brush in her paws once more, the panda made a face at Mei.
Mei rubbed her scalp and glared at the panda, forcing herself not to stick her tongue out. “Of course not, aunt.” She inched forward, eyes locked on the panda.
“Does a ruler lie, Your Highness?”
Mei stopped dead. Her aunt had not shouted or otherwise changed her tone or expression, but where once Mei would have heard only the usual chastisement about how a ruler behaved, now she felt embarrassment coiling within her. “No, aunt. A ruler is truthful and open.”
Dongmei nodded and didn’t say anything.
Hot shame crept up Mei’s neck. “Xiao Mei pulled my hair and - no.” She forced herself to look into her aunt’s eyes. “We were fighting, aunt. I am sorry for deceiving you.”
“Apology accepted.” Dongmei took away the brush before plucking the panda off her shoulder and offering her to Mei. Instead of resting in Mei’s hands, the panda ran up her arm and patted Mei’s ear soothingly, letting out a small whimper.
“I’m sorry too, Xiao Mei.” She stroked one finger along the panda’s head. Her aunt tapped her shoulder; uncertainly, Mei turned to face away from her.
Dongmei gently ran the brush through Mei’s hair as girl and panda exchanged a look. “A wise ruler also acknowledges when she has erred,” she said, and this time Mei’s blush was not from shame.
~-~-~-~-
Summer brought a dry heat to the hills of the small corner of Xing claimed by the Chan clan. The woman on horseback shaded her eyes with one hand as she peered ahead, trying to make out the village. She had missed two springs in her home - being able to return at all was a privilege, but she had always enjoyed spring the most, when the green of the hillsides was freshest. It was a disappointment that she had not arrived until the summer drought started, and it was only her insistence that the winding roads through the hills were too narrow for the (slow and bulky) carriage that had made them leave it behind and ride the remainder of the journey. She suspected her companions had seen this for the excuse it was - had they followed the longer road around the hills, they could have come into the village on the plains-side. But it would have taken days if not weeks longer in the carriage, and she also believed that her companions were as eager to return as she.
And now, finally, Jingfei was nearly home.
The horse and rider in front of her vanished behind another hill as the path curved; when Jingfei rode after them, the roofs of the village appeared, a ways off yet but closer than she had been for months. She glanced back as the last member of their little party took the same turn and nodded toward the distant buildings. “Almost there, Niu!”
The large man ducked his head, hiding a smile of pleasure. “Yes, mother.” This trip to the capital had been Niu’s first, and Jingfei knew it had been difficult for the young man to leave his family for so long.
‘Young man.’ She shook her head at herself. He is not ten years younger than you. You are letting that title go to your head. She looked forward again, to Bo who was in the lead. While the Chans were too small to have families of bodyguards like the Yao and Shih clans, Jingfei had still taken these two with her to the capital, to act as her escorts and servants. For all his gentleness, Niu was a rather threateningly hulking figure, which was as good a deterrent as anything, and Bo, older and grumpy, had been accompanying her to the capital since before Mei’s birth. Likely he had as much experience with the court as she did.
Soon enough, they had reached the outskirts of the village, causing a fluster as those who had seen them ride up called for others to come see the Lady Chan. Cries of “Welcome back, lady,” and “We have missed you, Highness” rose up, and Jingfei couldn’t help her answering smile. At her nod, Niu and Bo dismounted; she copied them, patting her horse’s neck as Bo made his way over to take the reins from her.
“Your daughter has missed you as well, lady,” said a soft, deep voice, and Jingfei turned to see the alkahestrist couple stepping forward. Master Ru grinned and bobbed several bows in rapid succession; his wife contented herself with one deep obeisance.
“Is Mei here?” Jingfei twisted, but she did not see her tiny daughter amidst the crowd. Not that any of the villagers would have impeded their princess, had she been present.
“I believe she is with your sister, lady. Or is she with her sister?” Master Ru asked.
“Yes,” Mistress Qiaolian agreed. “She is at home with the sisters.”
Jingfei blinked. What a strange way to put it. She shook it off, then, glancing in the direction of her home. “If you will excuse me then, Mistress Qiaolian, Master Ru.”
“Of course.” Both the alkahestrists bowed again. Jingfei started to move forward, flashing a hand signal at Bo so they would not follow. More bows followed her, and she nodded in return, smiling at familiar faces and noting the unfamiliar. This village made up the majority of those who relied on the Chan clan, and she owed it to them to spend time with them when she could, but now she couldn’t help herself from hurrying on to her family.
The voices of the crowd faded as she approached her home, letting a new sound take its place. Jingfei stopped, trying to identify it. It seemed to coming from the other side of the house; she couldn’t quite place it, but it reminded her of once when she had watched the emperor’s soldiers practicing. They made similar cries as they struck at each other.
Ignoring whoever might be watching or what they might think of it, Jingfei gathered up her skirt and sprinted for the back of the house. Surely she was overreacting - she must have mistaken what she was hearing - Mei was not, could not be in danger here-
The first thing she saw as she rounded the corner of the building was her sister, standing still as a statue, eyes fixed forward. Jingfei breathed easier. Dongmei was utterly devoted to her niece; she would not sit idly by if something threatened Mei. Then Jingfei turned to see what her sister was staring at and wondered if she’d been right to panic from the start.
There was her daughter, moving through the grass with the speed of a child at play. She had grown, Jingfei could tell, almost a whole head from the look of it; some of her baby fat had melted away, leaving her face leaner, older. Truly she’d been gone too long. It took a moment for Jingfei to realize that her daughter was not dashing and ducking on her own. A blurry, black-and-white shape pursued her, now rushing at her face, now darting at her knees. Mei dodged the attacks, at times throwing punches of her own, but Jingfei knew she could not avoid injury forever. Why did Dongmei do nothing?
“Mei!” she called, running forward, skirt still pulled high. Her sister started in the corner of her vision, but Jingfei’s attention was all on her daughter, who whirled, clearly shocked to see her. Immediately she bounded over, the black-and-white creature giving chase.
“Mama!” Mei cried, skidding to a stop in front of her. She flushed, dropping into a bow. “I mean - honored mother, I-”
“Stay back, Mei.” Jingfei pulled her daughter behind her, putting herself in between Mei and the creature. Now she could see that it was one of the great pandas, if a tiny one, but obviously vicious if it harassed a human. “Back!” she shouted, throwing her arms up to make herself seem larger. She glanced around, warily keeping an eye out for its mother; surely for such a small cub, she would be close by… The panda stopped in front of her, appearing confused. It tried to run around her, clearly still attempting to get to Mei. “I said back!” Jingfei shouted again, stepping forward aggressively and waving her arms. The panda jerked away, lowering its head. It growled, showing its teeth, fur rising along its back.
“Xiao Mei, how awful!” Mei suddenly raced out from behind Jingfei to approach the wild animal.
“Don’t-” Jingfei reached to grab her daughter, but Mei was crouching down, raising one finger in a scolding gesture.
“Do not growl at my mother!” she said before Jingfei grabbed her shoulder and pulled her away. “Mama?” she asked, looking confused.
“Mei, that animal is dangerous!” Jingfei managed before a new voice interrupted her.
“Forgive me, sister, but she is not.”
“Aunt!” Mei blurted.
“Dongmei,” Jingfei warned as her sister walked toward the animal. She knelt, holding out her hand, and the panda tamely jumped onto it; Dongmei then rose and gave Jingfei one of her looks, a single eyebrow raised in question. For once Jingfei felt it warranted, since she was staring at her sister, dumbfounded. “How…?”
“Sister, may I introduce Xiao Mei?” Dongmei said without a trace of irony. “She is the companion of Her Highness.” She gave Mei a look Jingfei couldn’t interpret, and Mei beamed, waves of gratitude rolling off her.
Jingfei stared down at her daughter and then up at her sister. “But it was attacking you,” she said, still trying to make sense of a nonsensical situation.
“No, Mama, we were practicing!” Mei explained eagerly. The panda, sitting in Dongmei’s hand, moved its head in something very like a nod before jumping down to Mei’s shoulder. Jingfei started, but Mei simply smiled and reached up to pet the panda’s fur. It hummed contentedly.
Jingfei sighed, rubbing at her eyes. “I think the three of us need to have a long discussion.”
“The four of us,” Dongmei corrected, an almost imperceptible smirk curling the corner of her mouth.
~-~-~-~-
“I suppose it was too much to hope that she wouldn’t have changed in a year,” Jingfei murmured to her sister wistfully. Mei was demonstrating some of the techniques she had been learning from Mistress Qiaolian, the panda - Xiao Mei, she told herself firmly - bouncing around her helpfully.
“She has grown more than I expected,” Dongmei replied simply.
Mei ducked to avoid a kick to her head; Jingfei wondered how the tiny pa-Xiao Mei could leap so high. She felt Dongmei’s eyes on her and looked over at her. “What?”
“I ought to have told you long before this,” Dongmei said, lowering her eyes. “Her Highness is your daughter.” She jerked her head upright in surprise when Jingfei laughed.
“Had you written of this to me, the whole court would have known as soon as I did,” Jingfei said by way of explanation, still chuckling. “I think it will be beneficial for Mei to have a trick or two up her sleeve when His Majesty sees her again.”
Dongmei’s breath caught. “That is why you returned? To take her to the capital city?”
“I returned to see my daughter.” Jingfei couldn’t quite keep the steel edge out of her voice. It had taken weeks of maneuvering to get the Son of Heaven even to consider letting her leave the capital. He did not expect her to return for months yet, and she didn’t mean to do so for as long as she could help it. After a moment, though, she sighed. “The emperor does wish her to visit before her next birthday. But I want to keep her from the court as long as I can.” Mei had only been to the capital city once before, as a toddler, and even then she had been in much greater danger than she was in the countryside of their clan.
“You underestimate her, sister,” Dongmei said softly.
“I am surprised to see how much Mistress Qiaolian has taught her in so few months,” Jingfei agreed, but her sister shook her head.
“Her Highness has grown in more than just alkahestry, sister. I did not think it a good idea at first, but I believe Xiao Mei has helped her at least as much as her lessons have.”
“Perhaps we should have let her have a pet long ago.”
Dongmei smiled. “That panda cub means more to Her Highness than an ordinary pet. I don’t know how the alkahestrists realized it so quickly, but she has come to think of Xiao Mei as a sister. And, strange as it may sound, I think Xiao Mei feels the same.”
“It is good to have a sister,” Jingfei said, and leaned over to hug hers. “I missed my daughter terribly, but I am glad to see you again as well, little sister.”
Dongmei returned the embrace. “We have missed you.” She tugged on one of Jingfei’s braids the same way she’d done since they were tiny girls. “I believe Her Highness feared that you would not return - and, worse, that she would disappoint you if ever you did.”
“You spoil her, little sister,” Jingfei said as they released each other. “But I will let my daughter know that she has never disappointed me.” She eyed Mei as girl and panda bowed to each other and turned to the adults with identical wide grins. “Even if she has adopted a scrawny wild animal into the clan. It really goes around with her everywhere?”
The corners of Dongmei’s eyes crinkled. “Sister, you have no idea.”
END
More notes:
-I am not an expert on Chinese (or Xingese, for that matter) culture by any means. I greatly apologize for any errors in my research.
-kuaizi - more commonly known in the West as 'chopsticks'
-The titles Mei writes are those of the Chinese emperor. Niu calling Jingfei 'mother' is a reference to one of the titles of the Chinese empress, "mother of the nation".
-Yes, Mei is using the names of other clans to insult Xiao Mei.
-Pandas actually like to swim; Xiao Mei is just being contrary.
-"The Legend of the White Snake" is a very famous Chinese myth that I think would appeal to Mei Chan. You can find out more about it here.
When Mei returned to her home that afternoon, mind so full that she did not even notice the panda’s claws digging into her shoulder, she found her aunt nearly prostrate before her.
“Please forgive me, Your Highness,” Dongmei murmured, hiding her face. “I have been untruthful to you.”
“Aunt!” Mei dropped to her knees and hurriedly pulled on one of her aunt’s sleeves; distantly, she noticed the panda plucking at the other sleeve, squeaking in a distress that mirrored her own. Slowly Dongmei rose to a sitting position, though she still refused to meet Mei’s eyes. “No, my honored aunt, please do not do this. It is unnecessary. Please.”
“I must beg forgiveness from Your Highness.”
“No, you must not!”
“I lied to Your Highness about visiting Master Ru.”
“I do not care, aunt. I do not hold it against you.”
Dongmei glanced up into Mei’s anxious face. “Forgive me, Your Highness. But I did not know - after what happened to Nianzu Feng-”
“There is nothing to forgive, honorable aunt.” Dongmei seemed on the verge of protesting, but Mei added, “Please, aunt. I understand.” And for the first time, Mei suddenly thought how lonely and hard it must be for her aunt, with no other family around but a young princess for whom she was completely responsible, with her sister in the capital city hundreds of miles away. “I - I am sorry for troubling you so much. Will you forgive me?”
“Of course, Your Highness.” Dongmei’s words were formal but her tone was not; without hesitation Mei flung herself into her aunt’s arms. The panda jumped to the top of Mei’s head and clung to her hair as the humans hugged. Mei sniffled as they parted. Dongmei cleared her throat, exhaling shakily. “Now. Would Your Highness like to eat dinner, and tell me of your day?”
~-~-~-~-
Truthfully, Mei was too old for bedtime stories. Occasionally, she circumvented this by asking her aunt to read to her from a book before they went to bed, as she did that night.
Dongmei, who had continued in her unusual soft-heartedness for that entire afternoon, merely sighed. “Which book, Your Highness?”
“Oh, Xiao Mei will choose,” Mei replied flippantly as she brushed out her hair.
Her aunt paused as the panda crawled down Mei’s arm and began inspecting the bookshelf. “Xiao Mei?” she repeated. That flat tone had returned to her voice.
Mei felt a rush of embarrassment. The name had popped out without her quite meaning it to. “The alkahestrists seemed to think she was my sister today,” she explained, devoting all of her attention to her hair and brush.
She couldn’t see her aunt’s face, and Dongmei didn’t say anything until the panda nosed one book away from the others, making a high-pitched grunt of exertion when it fell over. Dongmei read the title aloud. “The Legend of the White Snake.”
“Oh!” Mei gasped, turning around. That book was one of her mother’s; Mei had always wanted to read it, but her aunt insisted that she was too young. She bit her lip as the extremely satisfied-looking panda scrambled back up to her shoulder. Her aunt’s face was unreadable. “Of course you don’t have to read it, aunt,” Mei said, struggling not to show her disappointment.
Dongmei looked at the book, then back up at Mei. “If you are going to be an alkahestrist, Your Highness, I suppose I should stop treating you as a child.” Then she smiled briefly. “Somewhat, at least.”
“Thank you, aunt!” Mei turned to hide her broad smile. “Thank you, Xiao Mei,” she whispered, patting the panda’s nose.
The panda hummed happily and snapped at her fingers.
~-~-~-~-
“Qi is found in all things,” Qiaolian intoned. Just as they had the day before, she and Mei were both sitting on blankets in the small, barely-lit room. After a bit of inquisitive scurrying and sniffing, the panda had decided to perch on a corner of Mei’s blanket. Mei’s eyes were closed, but she could feel the cub’s warmth near her knee. “Living things and non-living have qi,” Qiaolian went on. “A mountain has qi, but so does a butterfly. It is easier to sense qi of the living - it is more active and therefore more vibrant, so it is more useful for training.”
Mei’s eyes fluttered open before she remembered to keep them shut. “Is that why we are alone here?” she asked, hastily adding, “Teacher.”
“Yes,” Qiaolian replied. “Even were the three of us to sit in a garden, for instance, the qi of the plants alone could be overwhelming to you as a beginner. Now, concentrate inwards. Feel your own qi, the way the dragon’s pulse hums through you.”
Mei inhaled slowly. They had done this exercise yesterday, but she still had to fight down excitement when she recognized the qi that was hers.
“Very good.” Qiaolian’s voice was serenely approving. “Focus on your qi. Let all else fade away.”
Mei felt sweat popping out on her forehead from the strain. She fought to direct her attention to her qi, but a noise on the edge of her hearing distracted her. It was - a snore? It’s just Xiao Mei, she realized, deciding to ignore it. Wait, she thought, Xiao Mei has never snored when she’s sleeping at night… Her mild feeling of shame sparked into indignation. She’s faking it!
“Xiao Mei!” she snapped, eyes opening and darting to the panda of their own accord. The cub was sprawled on her back, all four legs thrown about as her snoring grew louder. Mei could almost see a look of impish glee on the panda’s face. “Bad Xiao Mei!” she scolded, scooping her up in one hand and wagging her finger sternly. “You are supposed to be concentrating, not acting like a mindless brat from the Yao clan!”
The panda ignored her completely, curling into a ball in Mei’s palm and snoring in an outrageously loud manner.
“Xiao Mei,” Qiaolian said softly. Both panda and girl froze. “It is all right, princess. Xiao Mei already knows about qi.”
“She does?” Mei asked. The panda peered over the edges of her fingers and looked at Qiaolian, head tilted to one side.
“Of course. Animals have an innate sense of qi. Humans are at a disadvantage because they must learn on their own.”
The panda sat up in Mei’s hand, radiating smugness. Mei set her back on the ground and stuck out her tongue when Qiaolian’s eyes shut. The panda returned the gesture and Mei huffed.
Neither of them saw Qiaolian’s lips curve briefly upward.
~-~-~-~-
After much pleading from Mei (earnestly imitated by the panda, who was now rarely found somewhere other than the girl’s shoulder), Dongmei had commissioned a set of tiny kuaizi and brushes for the panda’s use. Whatever misgivings her aunt might have had about the practicality of buying eating utensils and writing instruments for a bad-tempered panda cub (and Mei was sure she had some, even if she kept them to herself) were quickly allayed when the panda immediately began using them as often as the humans did. Her proficiency with them left a little to be desired - more than one meal ended with Mei flipping grains of rice into the air for the panda to catch when she grew too impatient to use her kuaizi - but Mei thought her aunt couldn’t complain about that too much. After all, it wasn’t as though a pet dog or cat could be nearly as talented as her panda companion.
Dongmei bought one more item for the panda at the same time. “In honor of Your Highness beginning her studies in alkahestry,” she murmured as Mei eagerly pulled away the cloth wrapping it.
“Oh, aunt!” Mei exclaimed when she found the small, finely crafted comb and brush inside. She lifted them up for the panda to sniff at. “Thank you.” They were not delicate pieces but well made and practical, the comb with sturdy wooden tines and the brush with short, thick bristles.
“My only stipulation, Your Highness, is that you make use of them,” Dongmei said significantly.
The panda squeaked in an affronted manner when Mei grinned at her. “You know what that means, Xiao Mei,” she said brightly. “Time for a bath!”
As she had when Mei washed her face days earlier, the panda resisted all of Mei’s efforts to dunk her in the bucket of river water. “Stop it, Xiao Mei!” Mei panted, trying to maintain her hold on the panda without being bitten by her small, sharp teeth. “You’re not the only person who takes baths, you know!”
Finally, she managed to submerge the cub completely. When she picked the panda back out of the water, her companion was clearly bitter about the entire process. She no longer squirmed and struggled, but she sagged in Mei’s grip, deliberately flopping first one way and then the next in the most uncooperative manner possible.
“Useless Tong monster.” Mei scrubbed determinedly at the bottom of her panda’s feet. “Shameless Wan dog!” She rubbed the panda’s fur dry briskly. “White-eyed Yao-”
“Your Highness!” Dongmei snapped from the next room.
Mei placed both hands over her mouth. She hadn’t realized how loudly she had been insulting the contrary panda. “Forgive me, aunt,” she called back.
The panda, sensing Mei’s attention was elsewhere, suddenly rolled to her feet and attempted an escape, but Mei threw the towel like a net and caught her neatly.
“Xiao Mei, don’t do that again, you daughter of a turtle-”
“Your Highness!”
Mei yelped. “I won’t do it again!” And while she combed the knots out of the fidgeting panda’s fur and brushed it into fluffy softness, Mei was obligingly silent.
Mentally, however, she called her panda the most horrible names an eight-year-old princess could devise.
~-~-~-~-
“Concentrate, princess. Use your qi. Feel its flow.”
Mei focused, too preoccupied even to bite at her lip. After much practice, she was able to sense her own qi at will, but today Qiaolian had started her on the next aspect of her training, which was necessarily more difficult.
“Qi flows through you as it does through me,” Qiaolian’s steady voice continued. Mei’s eyes flickered behind the blindfold, instinctively trying to follow the sound before she stilled them. “There is a flow to everything in the world; this flow is its qi. Use your qi to feel it.”
Once more Mei was sitting in the room where she and her master had been meeting for days, though this time Qiaolian may well have doused the candles for all Mei could tell. Instead of sensing her own qi, Mei’s newest task was to seek out and identify the qi of something else.
“It is unlikely that you will be able to sense the qi of inanimate objects,” Qiaolian had explained as she tied the cloth behind Mei’s head. “But it is easiest to begin in as simple an environment as possible. Distractions create clutter; clutter creates uncertainty. I will speak to you at first, but if sound becomes a distraction we will block that as well.”
“Qi flows through the earth. Qi flows through the air,” Qiaolian said now, the drone of her voice not at all soothing. “The pulse of the dragon is the movement of this flow. Feel it.”
Mei clenched her teeth. Her own qi quivered with the force of her concentration. She could feel it, with a sense that was not quite sight, not quite touch, but a little bit of both. She strained to find a hint of another qi, forced herself to breathe steadily, fought to use her own qi…
Suddenly she gasped, eyes flying open despite the blindfold. There, just there, was qi that was wholly unconnected with her. It seemed - smaller, somehow, than her own - not weaker, exactly, but fainter. Perhaps qi dimmed with age; she had never thought to ask before, though now the question seemed rather rude. She did not think she would dare to ask it of Mistress Qiaolian.
Firmly, she raised her hand and pointed straight at the other qi. Her own continued to pound with the intensity of her effort. “I sense qi there, teacher.”
Qiaolian did not sound surprised when she replied. “Do you?”
Mei faltered, but the qi did not change. She knew it was there; she was not imagining it. “Yes, teacher.”
There was a short pause. “And now?”
“I still sense it.”
Another pause, and this time the qi moved. Mei followed it as best she could until it halted again, somewhere to her right. “Now it is there,” she said without being prompted.
“Describe this qi.” Qiaolian seemed to be directly behind her.
“It is - lighter, I think, than mine.” Mei puzzled over the words, but they were the best ones she could find. “Not as…” She caught herself before she said ‘strong’. “…large. Maybe… faster? No - more rapid. Something like that.” She sighed. “I am sorry, Mistress Qiaolian. I don’t think I’m explaining it very well.”
Qiaolian chuckled, a short, low sound. “Nonsense, princess. You are doing very well. In time, you will be better able to describe different qi, and better able to recognize them as well.”
Mei opened her mouth to ask what that meant, when she realized that Qiaolian’s voice had come from behind her, and very close by. The qi had not moved again from its position, off to her right and much farther away.
Fingers worked at the knotted cloth and pulled it away from her eyes. Mei blinked in the candlelight, trying to readjust her vision. “I do not think any of us are surprised about this,” Qiaolian said, pointing at the qi Mei had sensed - was still sensing, in fact, despite the removal of the blindfold.
“Xiao Mei!” she exclaimed. Her panda yawned, pink tongue flickering out briefly before she scrambled over to Mei’s shoe and crawled up her clothes, finally resting on Mei’s shoulder. Mei turned to her teacher, who looked content as she folded the cloth back up again.
“I told you before that all things have qi, even animals and little sisters,” Qiaolian said mildly.
“But… wouldn’t your qi have been easier for me to sense?” Mei asked. The panda on her shoulder was a familiar warmth through her sleeve. “We are both people, and Xiao Mei -”
“The easiest qi to sense is that most similar to your own,” Qiaolian interrupted. Mei continued to gape, and there was the faint hint of a smile on Qiaolian’s face as she said, “I think that enough for today’s lesson, princess.”
~-~-~-~-
Mei eagerly undid her braids, unable to stifle an excited grin. She shook her loose hair back and closed her eyes, bringing forth her qi as she had been practicing. Almost instantly, she was aware of her panda by her side and, in the next room, her aunt preparing their sleeping mats. Technically, she had known what Dongmei was doing already - and with her eyes open, the panda would have been easily visible - but being able to sense their qi was more exciting, now that it came easily to her. She was certain she could have picked out their qi from a crowd - the panda’s small but vibrant, her aunt’s steady except for a slight flicker around the edges. Qiaolian refused to explain what a qi’s appearance meant, stating that, in time, Mei would learn to interpret it for herself.
Movement of the brush in her hair made her eyes open. The qi slowly faded from her awareness. Qiaolian said that eventually she would always be able to sense qi without keeping her eyes closed, but she was not quite there yet. Still. Qiaolian had informed her that she had advanced enough that they could now begin a different phase of her training.
“Tomorrow, Xiao Mei,” she whispered. “Tomorrow, I’ll finally do some real alkahestry. Can you believe it?”
Behind her, the panda squeaked excitedly as she ran through the brush through Mei’s hair. She still hated being bathed - in the wild, Mei guessed, panda cubs didn’t usually plunge themselves into water to get clean - but she had come to enjoy the regular brushing of her fur. She had also begun brushing Mei’s hair every night before bed, as if to reciprocate Mei brushing her fur every morning.
“And Mistress Qiaolian said we would begin our combat training too!” Mei continued, once more bubbling with excitement. “I can’t wait-” Mei cut herself off, hissing as the brush caught in her hair. “Ow!”
The panda yelped, a sound Mei recognized as impatience.
“That hurt, Xiao Mei!”
The panda growled, yanking the brush through the snarl. This time, Mei was the one to yelp.
“Xiao Mei! You’re pulling my hair out!”
The panda squeaked again as she picked at the strands now stuck in the bristles of the brush.
“I don’t care if it’ll grow back!” Mei grabbed at the panda. “How would you like to have your fur torn out?”
The panda scampered across Mei’s shoulder and down her back, clinging to her blouse with sharp claws. Mei turned around, trying to catch her, but the panda darted off, brush clamped in her teeth. Dongmei stepped into the room, one eyebrow raised questioningly, and the panda scampered up her leg and side to perch on her shoulder.
Dongmei arched her other eyebrow. “Are you fighting with your companion, Your Highness?” she asked mildly. Holding the brush in her paws once more, the panda made a face at Mei.
Mei rubbed her scalp and glared at the panda, forcing herself not to stick her tongue out. “Of course not, aunt.” She inched forward, eyes locked on the panda.
“Does a ruler lie, Your Highness?”
Mei stopped dead. Her aunt had not shouted or otherwise changed her tone or expression, but where once Mei would have heard only the usual chastisement about how a ruler behaved, now she felt embarrassment coiling within her. “No, aunt. A ruler is truthful and open.”
Dongmei nodded and didn’t say anything.
Hot shame crept up Mei’s neck. “Xiao Mei pulled my hair and - no.” She forced herself to look into her aunt’s eyes. “We were fighting, aunt. I am sorry for deceiving you.”
“Apology accepted.” Dongmei took away the brush before plucking the panda off her shoulder and offering her to Mei. Instead of resting in Mei’s hands, the panda ran up her arm and patted Mei’s ear soothingly, letting out a small whimper.
“I’m sorry too, Xiao Mei.” She stroked one finger along the panda’s head. Her aunt tapped her shoulder; uncertainly, Mei turned to face away from her.
Dongmei gently ran the brush through Mei’s hair as girl and panda exchanged a look. “A wise ruler also acknowledges when she has erred,” she said, and this time Mei’s blush was not from shame.
~-~-~-~-
Summer brought a dry heat to the hills of the small corner of Xing claimed by the Chan clan. The woman on horseback shaded her eyes with one hand as she peered ahead, trying to make out the village. She had missed two springs in her home - being able to return at all was a privilege, but she had always enjoyed spring the most, when the green of the hillsides was freshest. It was a disappointment that she had not arrived until the summer drought started, and it was only her insistence that the winding roads through the hills were too narrow for the (slow and bulky) carriage that had made them leave it behind and ride the remainder of the journey. She suspected her companions had seen this for the excuse it was - had they followed the longer road around the hills, they could have come into the village on the plains-side. But it would have taken days if not weeks longer in the carriage, and she also believed that her companions were as eager to return as she.
And now, finally, Jingfei was nearly home.
The horse and rider in front of her vanished behind another hill as the path curved; when Jingfei rode after them, the roofs of the village appeared, a ways off yet but closer than she had been for months. She glanced back as the last member of their little party took the same turn and nodded toward the distant buildings. “Almost there, Niu!”
The large man ducked his head, hiding a smile of pleasure. “Yes, mother.” This trip to the capital had been Niu’s first, and Jingfei knew it had been difficult for the young man to leave his family for so long.
‘Young man.’ She shook her head at herself. He is not ten years younger than you. You are letting that title go to your head. She looked forward again, to Bo who was in the lead. While the Chans were too small to have families of bodyguards like the Yao and Shih clans, Jingfei had still taken these two with her to the capital, to act as her escorts and servants. For all his gentleness, Niu was a rather threateningly hulking figure, which was as good a deterrent as anything, and Bo, older and grumpy, had been accompanying her to the capital since before Mei’s birth. Likely he had as much experience with the court as she did.
Soon enough, they had reached the outskirts of the village, causing a fluster as those who had seen them ride up called for others to come see the Lady Chan. Cries of “Welcome back, lady,” and “We have missed you, Highness” rose up, and Jingfei couldn’t help her answering smile. At her nod, Niu and Bo dismounted; she copied them, patting her horse’s neck as Bo made his way over to take the reins from her.
“Your daughter has missed you as well, lady,” said a soft, deep voice, and Jingfei turned to see the alkahestrist couple stepping forward. Master Ru grinned and bobbed several bows in rapid succession; his wife contented herself with one deep obeisance.
“Is Mei here?” Jingfei twisted, but she did not see her tiny daughter amidst the crowd. Not that any of the villagers would have impeded their princess, had she been present.
“I believe she is with your sister, lady. Or is she with her sister?” Master Ru asked.
“Yes,” Mistress Qiaolian agreed. “She is at home with the sisters.”
Jingfei blinked. What a strange way to put it. She shook it off, then, glancing in the direction of her home. “If you will excuse me then, Mistress Qiaolian, Master Ru.”
“Of course.” Both the alkahestrists bowed again. Jingfei started to move forward, flashing a hand signal at Bo so they would not follow. More bows followed her, and she nodded in return, smiling at familiar faces and noting the unfamiliar. This village made up the majority of those who relied on the Chan clan, and she owed it to them to spend time with them when she could, but now she couldn’t help herself from hurrying on to her family.
The voices of the crowd faded as she approached her home, letting a new sound take its place. Jingfei stopped, trying to identify it. It seemed to coming from the other side of the house; she couldn’t quite place it, but it reminded her of once when she had watched the emperor’s soldiers practicing. They made similar cries as they struck at each other.
Ignoring whoever might be watching or what they might think of it, Jingfei gathered up her skirt and sprinted for the back of the house. Surely she was overreacting - she must have mistaken what she was hearing - Mei was not, could not be in danger here-
The first thing she saw as she rounded the corner of the building was her sister, standing still as a statue, eyes fixed forward. Jingfei breathed easier. Dongmei was utterly devoted to her niece; she would not sit idly by if something threatened Mei. Then Jingfei turned to see what her sister was staring at and wondered if she’d been right to panic from the start.
There was her daughter, moving through the grass with the speed of a child at play. She had grown, Jingfei could tell, almost a whole head from the look of it; some of her baby fat had melted away, leaving her face leaner, older. Truly she’d been gone too long. It took a moment for Jingfei to realize that her daughter was not dashing and ducking on her own. A blurry, black-and-white shape pursued her, now rushing at her face, now darting at her knees. Mei dodged the attacks, at times throwing punches of her own, but Jingfei knew she could not avoid injury forever. Why did Dongmei do nothing?
“Mei!” she called, running forward, skirt still pulled high. Her sister started in the corner of her vision, but Jingfei’s attention was all on her daughter, who whirled, clearly shocked to see her. Immediately she bounded over, the black-and-white creature giving chase.
“Mama!” Mei cried, skidding to a stop in front of her. She flushed, dropping into a bow. “I mean - honored mother, I-”
“Stay back, Mei.” Jingfei pulled her daughter behind her, putting herself in between Mei and the creature. Now she could see that it was one of the great pandas, if a tiny one, but obviously vicious if it harassed a human. “Back!” she shouted, throwing her arms up to make herself seem larger. She glanced around, warily keeping an eye out for its mother; surely for such a small cub, she would be close by… The panda stopped in front of her, appearing confused. It tried to run around her, clearly still attempting to get to Mei. “I said back!” Jingfei shouted again, stepping forward aggressively and waving her arms. The panda jerked away, lowering its head. It growled, showing its teeth, fur rising along its back.
“Xiao Mei, how awful!” Mei suddenly raced out from behind Jingfei to approach the wild animal.
“Don’t-” Jingfei reached to grab her daughter, but Mei was crouching down, raising one finger in a scolding gesture.
“Do not growl at my mother!” she said before Jingfei grabbed her shoulder and pulled her away. “Mama?” she asked, looking confused.
“Mei, that animal is dangerous!” Jingfei managed before a new voice interrupted her.
“Forgive me, sister, but she is not.”
“Aunt!” Mei blurted.
“Dongmei,” Jingfei warned as her sister walked toward the animal. She knelt, holding out her hand, and the panda tamely jumped onto it; Dongmei then rose and gave Jingfei one of her looks, a single eyebrow raised in question. For once Jingfei felt it warranted, since she was staring at her sister, dumbfounded. “How…?”
“Sister, may I introduce Xiao Mei?” Dongmei said without a trace of irony. “She is the companion of Her Highness.” She gave Mei a look Jingfei couldn’t interpret, and Mei beamed, waves of gratitude rolling off her.
Jingfei stared down at her daughter and then up at her sister. “But it was attacking you,” she said, still trying to make sense of a nonsensical situation.
“No, Mama, we were practicing!” Mei explained eagerly. The panda, sitting in Dongmei’s hand, moved its head in something very like a nod before jumping down to Mei’s shoulder. Jingfei started, but Mei simply smiled and reached up to pet the panda’s fur. It hummed contentedly.
Jingfei sighed, rubbing at her eyes. “I think the three of us need to have a long discussion.”
“The four of us,” Dongmei corrected, an almost imperceptible smirk curling the corner of her mouth.
~-~-~-~-
“I suppose it was too much to hope that she wouldn’t have changed in a year,” Jingfei murmured to her sister wistfully. Mei was demonstrating some of the techniques she had been learning from Mistress Qiaolian, the panda - Xiao Mei, she told herself firmly - bouncing around her helpfully.
“She has grown more than I expected,” Dongmei replied simply.
Mei ducked to avoid a kick to her head; Jingfei wondered how the tiny pa-Xiao Mei could leap so high. She felt Dongmei’s eyes on her and looked over at her. “What?”
“I ought to have told you long before this,” Dongmei said, lowering her eyes. “Her Highness is your daughter.” She jerked her head upright in surprise when Jingfei laughed.
“Had you written of this to me, the whole court would have known as soon as I did,” Jingfei said by way of explanation, still chuckling. “I think it will be beneficial for Mei to have a trick or two up her sleeve when His Majesty sees her again.”
Dongmei’s breath caught. “That is why you returned? To take her to the capital city?”
“I returned to see my daughter.” Jingfei couldn’t quite keep the steel edge out of her voice. It had taken weeks of maneuvering to get the Son of Heaven even to consider letting her leave the capital. He did not expect her to return for months yet, and she didn’t mean to do so for as long as she could help it. After a moment, though, she sighed. “The emperor does wish her to visit before her next birthday. But I want to keep her from the court as long as I can.” Mei had only been to the capital city once before, as a toddler, and even then she had been in much greater danger than she was in the countryside of their clan.
“You underestimate her, sister,” Dongmei said softly.
“I am surprised to see how much Mistress Qiaolian has taught her in so few months,” Jingfei agreed, but her sister shook her head.
“Her Highness has grown in more than just alkahestry, sister. I did not think it a good idea at first, but I believe Xiao Mei has helped her at least as much as her lessons have.”
“Perhaps we should have let her have a pet long ago.”
Dongmei smiled. “That panda cub means more to Her Highness than an ordinary pet. I don’t know how the alkahestrists realized it so quickly, but she has come to think of Xiao Mei as a sister. And, strange as it may sound, I think Xiao Mei feels the same.”
“It is good to have a sister,” Jingfei said, and leaned over to hug hers. “I missed my daughter terribly, but I am glad to see you again as well, little sister.”
Dongmei returned the embrace. “We have missed you.” She tugged on one of Jingfei’s braids the same way she’d done since they were tiny girls. “I believe Her Highness feared that you would not return - and, worse, that she would disappoint you if ever you did.”
“You spoil her, little sister,” Jingfei said as they released each other. “But I will let my daughter know that she has never disappointed me.” She eyed Mei as girl and panda bowed to each other and turned to the adults with identical wide grins. “Even if she has adopted a scrawny wild animal into the clan. It really goes around with her everywhere?”
The corners of Dongmei’s eyes crinkled. “Sister, you have no idea.”
END
More notes:
-I am not an expert on Chinese (or Xingese, for that matter) culture by any means. I greatly apologize for any errors in my research.
-kuaizi - more commonly known in the West as 'chopsticks'
-The titles Mei writes are those of the Chinese emperor. Niu calling Jingfei 'mother' is a reference to one of the titles of the Chinese empress, "mother of the nation".
-Yes, Mei is using the names of other clans to insult Xiao Mei.
-Pandas actually like to swim; Xiao Mei is just being contrary.
-"The Legend of the White Snake" is a very famous Chinese myth that I think would appeal to Mei Chan. You can find out more about it here.