The kitchen in summer is unbearably hot.
That’s because the stove is fired from morning until night for cooking.
When Fei Ling (慧玲) entered the kitchen, a wooden box filled with ingredients was just being carried in. These were ingredients she had asked the Empress to procure. She opened the box and took out a lump densely covered in small bumps. It was thoroughly dried and looked ready to be cooked immediately.
“…Hey, what is that?”
A palace maid spoke to her. This was unexpected—Fei Ling had assumed she’d be ignored, just as she had been when preparing meals for the banquet.
“This is a fruit called Caoyuzi (草實仔, Ai Guo Shi).”
“A fruit? This thing, looking like a spiky scrubbing brush?”
“Yes, you can think of it as something like a dried and inverted fig.”
Fei Ling scraped off the seeds from the fruit capsule and gathered them together, wrapping them in fine silk cloth. She then immersed the bundle into a water-filled pot.
“If I keep kneading it in the water like this… gradually, it should…”
Something was wrong. Normally, the fruit fibers would dissolve, causing the water to jellify.
“Look at that—nothing’s changing,” said the palace maid with a look of dismay before walking away.
(…What’s missing?)
Fei Ling thought back to the times when her mother and mentor had used this fruit to prepare medicines.
“Do you know what’s most important in medicine?” her mother had once asked. When Fei Ling couldn’t answer, her mother continued,
“It’s water. Water is the source of all things. Try drinking the water of this region—it’s hard. But the water in the capital is soft. Even when using the same preparation methods, the texture, aroma, and flavor of grains differ depending on the quality of water.”
Considering the water’s quality was key. Come to think of it, her mother had never prepared this fruit in other regions.
(…It’s the water!)
The water in the capital comes from lake-fed irrigation channels. It’s soft to the palate, ideal for brewing tea or cooking grains, but perhaps unsuitable for certain preparations.
But how could she procure hard water?
(For firming things… for example, when firming soy milk into tofu, gypsum is used. But that’s too strongly scented. In that case, what about nigari?)
Nigari, however, is a byproduct of sea salt production. It would have to be procured from the sea. Was there another way to create hard water?
(That’s it. That should work.)
With an idea in mind, Fei Ling dashed out of the kitchen.
From afar, the palace maids who had been observing her began gathering around the wooden box one by one. They peered at the peculiar fruit, raising their eyebrows in doubt. Some of the maids bore scars from burns.
“She’s making medicine for the concubines’ burns, isn’t she?”
“…Hey, should we try it too?”
Whispering in low voices, they began taking out the contents of the wooden box.
◆
The summer palace, now deserted without its master, resonated only with the faint tinkling of wind chimes.
The attendants of the seasonal consort had likely been given leave until a new summer consort was chosen. Even the livestock seemed to have been sold off in the capital.
Peeking into the room where Consort Feng (凬妃) once lived, Fei Ling saw blue sleeves fluttering as a summer breeze swept in. For a moment, she almost heard the consort’s vibrant voice calling out, “Doctor!” Fei Ling narrowed her eyes.
She thought of the consort, who had vowed to bear grudges until the end.
(“If one must consume poison…”)
The consort had once said that the two tribes could reconcile if the emperor weren’t in the picture, but that was an idealistic notion. The world doesn’t turn so simply.
She had loved both the Hao (昊) tribe and the Kun (坤) tribe, wishing to resent neither. So, instead, she sought someone else to blame.
(Once, my father said, “Governance is akin to consuming poison.”)
Surrounded by enigmatic allies, manipulating the populace with silken ropes, severing compassion, discarding personal desires. At times, one might have to kill what they love or desire what they disdain. To save one thing means sacrificing another. And so, one chooses the path of least harm, swallowing the poison of guilt. Swallowing hope, resentment, dissatisfaction, admiration—all of it—to become a vessel large enough to contain the people’s burdens.
(“Consume the poison and turn it into medicine.” That was Father’s teaching.)
Governance truly was like consuming poison.
Yet, no matter how unbearable, one must never regurgitate the poison they’ve consumed. To do so would poison the people and the nation through their words and choices.
But he had regurgitated the poison, turning his own words into lies.
(What about the new emperor?)
Could he remain steadfast?
The fire of poison still rages through the mountains. Before long, even the Kun tribe’s dissatisfaction will grow. The poison of the inner palace is merely a small spark.
(Even so, all I can do now is what I can do.)
Leaving Consort Feng’s room, Fei Ling headed to Yi Yi’s (依依) quarters next. She rifled through the desk drawers, knowing her actions were improper.
Yi Yi had neither loved the Hao tribe nor the Kun tribe. She had only loved Feng. Thus, she resented what Feng resented and loved what Feng loved.
(It wasn’t the emperor or the empress who took Feng from her… Feng was merely consumed by her own poison of resentment.)
Resentment is a poison. But it can sometimes feel sweet.
“…Found it.”
At the edge of the drawer lay an earring from the Kun tribe. Fei Ling grasped it tightly and returned to the kitchen.
From a distance, she heard the faint cry of a hawk. Turning around, she saw a birdcage in the corner of the room. A captured hawk lay weak, barely breathing. Starvation or execution would soon claim it.
“Let their souls return home.”
Fei Ling undid the bamboo cage.
The hawk, wary at first, stuck its head out and hesitated. Then, spreading its frail wings, it caught the wind and ascended into the summer sky.
Fei Ling had no words of prayer for the dead.
When her mother took her own life, and when her father was executed, she had been the same. So instead, she entrusted her thoughts.
The hawk called out once more before disappearing into the azure sky.
