Chang'an Imperial Estate - April 18th, 1940, Midday
The tension in the ancestral hall lingered like incense smoke long after the words had been spoken. Princess Changning's somber state, head bowed, shoulders curved inward in submission, struck both Kylian and Wolfgang with visceral horror. Though they understood not a single word that had been said, the injustice of someone being reprimanded for showing basic human compassion transcended linguistic barriers.
When all was said and done, the four sisters stood in unison and began reciting prayers in Chinese, their voices creating a harmonic rhythm that filled the sacred space with an almost hypnotic quality. The ceremony concluded peacefully, at least in its outward forms. Throughout the entire ordeal, Kylian and Wolfgang never caught a glimpse of the woman behind the divider, yet her presence dominated the hall as completely as if she had been seated upon a throne.
They watched the four princesses recite in unison, but Kylian's eyes remained fixed on one figure alone. Princess Changning stood with perfect posture now, her voice joining her sisters' in the ancient prayers, but he could see the subtle signs of distress that lingered, the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers gripped each other perhaps a fraction too tightly. He didn't understand why he felt so particularly captivated by her, why her distress affected him so profoundly when logic suggested he should maintain proper diplomatic detachment.
After the prayers concluded, the chief maid reappeared and silently gestured for the two officers to follow her. There was nothing more for outsiders to witness. Understanding their dismissal, both men rose from their cushions and followed the maid outside, their legs stiff from sitting in the unaccustomed position for so long.
The princesses departed after a suitable interval, exiting in order of seniority as protocol demanded. Kylian found himself watching for Princess Changning, but she passed without meeting his gaze, her attention focused straight ahead as court etiquette required.
It was now midday, and though they had agreed to meet Captain Song Zhongwei after the ancestor worship, he was nowhere to be found. The two officers discovered themselves at loose ends, eventually settling by the stream under an ancient willow tree whose gnarled branches spoke to centuries of growth.
Wolfgang squatted beside the stream, trailing his fingers through the clear, cold water and watching small fish dart away from his hand. Kylian leaned against the tree's trunk, his mind still processing what they had witnessed in the ancestral hall.
"I've been thinking about tonight," Wolfgang began, breaking their contemplative silence. He trailed his fingers through the water, watching the ripples spread. "About that peephole. We need to do something, search our room for more clues, maybe find out who's been watching us. But I'll be honest, I'm not sure how to go about it without getting caught."
Kylian raised his eyebrows at the admission. "That's the problem, isn't it? If they're watching us closely enough to have placed a peephole, they'll notice the moment we start investigating." He shifted against the tree trunk. "How do you propose we manage that?"
Wolfgang turned his head toward his friend, his expression caught between determination and frustration. "I don't have a solid plan yet. But doing nothing, that's paralyzing us, Kylian. Every moment we spend in that room, wondering if we're being observed..." He shook his head. "We have to do something, even if we don't have all the answers yet."
"I agree the paranoia is unbearable," Kylian replied thoughtfully, his gaze distant. He was quiet for a moment, clearly weighing their options. "But we can't afford to be reckless. Acting boldly on our own, that's too dangerous. We need to wait for an opening, or perhaps create one ourselves." He looked at Wolfgang directly. "I'm also still working through how that might look."
"So we're agreed then," Wolfgang said, a hint of relief in his voice despite the uncertainty. "The longer this goes on, the worse it gets. We keep our eyes open, look for an opportunity."
"Yes, but Wolfgang—" Kylian's tone took on a cautionary edge. "We can't lose focus of our surroundings while we're planning this. One wrong move and we could create a diplomatic disaster that makes our teaching failure look trivial by comparison. Be careful. Be patient."
Wolfgang's expression softened, and a slight smile crossed his face. "Of course, Kylian. Both our lives are on the line here, I'm not about to take unnecessary risks." He paused, then added more quietly, "Even if the waiting is driving me mad."
For a moment beside the stream, all tension and worry seemed to dissipate. The serene beauty of this rural setting under the midday sun provided a peaceful respite for both officers, who desperately needed calm after witnessing the cruelty in the ancestral hall. The sound of water flowing over smooth stones, the gentle rustling of leaves overhead, the distant calls of exotic birds—it all combined to create an atmosphere of tranquility that felt almost dreamlike.
In the distance, they spotted Bai Lu approaching, her small figure gradually becoming larger as she closed the distance between them. She wasn't running, but her steps were hurried enough to suggest urgency. Her humble yellow robes marked her as a member of the imperial clan yet not royalty itself—a distinction both subtle and significant in court hierarchy. As she drew nearer, she raised her hand as if to capture their attention, which both men immediately gave her.
"Captains! I have been looking for you everywhere, and so has the Chief Consort," Bai Lu announced as she bowed to the two officers.
"The Chief Consort?" Kylian asked, worry immediately flooding his features. "Did we do something wrong? Did we breach some protocol during the ceremony?"
"Have we offended her in some way?" Wolfgang added, his earlier good mood evaporating.
Bai Lu let out a nervous laugh, raising both hands in a placating gesture. "No, no, it's nothing like that! This is a misunderstanding—please don't worry." Visible relief washed over both officers' faces. "The Chief Consort wishes to convey that the scene at the ancestral hall must have been unpleasant for our esteemed guests. As a token of our apology and to demonstrate proper hospitality, she would like to make amends."
Both Kylian and Wolfgang found themselves even more surprised by this development. An imperial consort apologizing to foreign military officers was unprecedented in their experience.
"Please follow me," Bai Lu said, gesturing toward a path that led away from the stream.
They arrived at a grove in a clearing within a dense bamboo forest, just a few hundred meters from the main estate yet well within its protected grounds. The setting was extraordinary—large stones had been arranged to serve as seating, while rustic wooden tables provided surfaces for tea service. This was clearly a retreat where imperial clan members sought peace and tranquility away from the formality of the main buildings.
Ahead of them stood the now-familiar divider, immediately signaling to both officers that Consort Wu was present. Despite her oppressive presence—or perhaps because of it—the peace and tranquility of the bamboo grove felt almost supernatural, as though they had been transported to an entirely different plane of existence. The sound of birds singing, water flowing somewhere nearby, and wind rustling through bamboo stalks created a symphony of natural beauty.
Bai Lu directed the two officers to their designated seats. A few moments later, Captain Song Zhongwei appeared, but his expression seemed different, there was something in his bearing that suggested fear or extreme caution. He was scared, and it had to be because of the Consort's presence—there was no other explanation. Kylian could read it clearly in Song's posture, in the way he held his shoulders, in how he kept his gaze lowered. Song did acknowledge them with a slight nod in their direction, but his head remained bowed in the Consort's presence, suggesting she commanded a level of deference that exceeded even imperial princesses.
Just as Kylian and Wolfgang were about to sit, they offered deep bows toward the divider before taking their seats. The gesture felt necessary despite, or perhaps because of the fact that they could not see the woman they were honoring.
Servants entered the grove carrying silver trays laden with tea implements of extraordinary craftsmanship. The tea set was luxurious beyond anything either officer had seen outside of museum collections, elaborate carvings and designs covered every surface, and the two Westerners could immediately tell these were pieces of significant value. After all, the nobility in Hansa had developed an obsession with Chinese tea sets, particularly those made for royalty, as their rarity itself conferred prestige. A bronze brazier was brought in and positioned at a respectful distance from the seats, while elaborate porcelain kettles that would be used for boiling water spoke to the artistic sensibilities that the Jin Dynasty had cultivated over centuries.
It was then that two princesses entered the grove. Princess Ruyi and Princess Changning appeared together, moving with the synchronized grace that suggested years of shared training in court protocol. Princess Changning, despite her ordeal that morning, seemed to have washed away all outward signs of distress. This time she wore a light emerald green dress that, in Kylian's eyes, seemed to have been created specifically for her alone. The color complemented her porcelain complexion perfectly, while the cut of the garment somehow emphasized both her royal dignity and natural grace. He found himself captivated once again, unable to look away despite knowing such attention was improper.
When both princesses entered the grove, Kylian and Wolfgang rose and offered respectful bows. The princesses did not return the gesture—they were royalty, after all, and protocol did not require them to acknowledge foreign officers' salutations.
Princess Ruyi assumed her position as the ceremony's conductor, since Princess Ankang was notably absent. The two officers assumed she remained too mentally and emotionally fragile to participate in this formal tea service after her breakdown in the ancestral hall. They watched with growing fascination as Princess Ruyi began the tea ceremony with movements that appeared choreographed yet entirely natural.
She measured the tea leaves with her own hands, no servant was permitted to touch the implements once the ceremony began. The precision with which she handled each element spoke to years of training. She placed the kettle on the brazier and began the process of heating water, monitoring the temperature with attention that seemed almost meditative. The officers watched as she added what appeared to be dried roots—ginseng, perhaps, or some other medicinal herb they couldn't identify to enhance the tea's flavor and properties.
Wolfgang observed with particularly keen interest, left speechless by witnessing a ceremony he had only encountered in historical texts and travelers' accounts. This was living history unfolding before them, and he wished desperately that he could photograph it, though he knew such a request would be unthinkably inappropriate.
Before the tea was ready for serving, the youngest princess entered the grove carrying a silver tray laden with what appeared to be mooncakes. The vivid colors of the pastries—some golden, others pale green or deep red made both officers suddenly aware of how hungry they were. The inviting nature of these traditional sweets awakened appetites they had been suppressing.
Princess Anle approached the table, and as soon as she entered the grove, a hint of a smile, perhaps even a mischievous grin—appeared on her face as she held the tray. This expression was endearing to both officers, who found themselves pleasantly surprised to encounter such unguarded personality in the royal family. Despite her youth, she moved with confidence that bordered on boldness.
So far, not a single word had been spoken in the grove beyond Bai Lu's initial greeting. The tray of snacks was set before the guests, and the tea approached readiness. Princess Changning placed the elaborate porcelain cups on a serving tray with movements that were economical yet graceful. Then she began pouring the tea from the kettle, measuring each portion with precision that suggested she had performed this ritual countless times.
With fluid grace, she picked up the tray and approached the guests. Protocol dictated she serve Wolfgang first, as he was seated to the left while Kylian occupied the position on the right. As the princess approached with the tray, Kylian observed her with what he hoped was subtle attention—not a stare that would be considered inappropriate, but occasional glances that acknowledged her presence. He was fighting with himself, struggling to maintain the proper detachment that diplomacy required while his attention remained inexorably drawn to her.
Wolfgang picked up his cup from the tray and bowed his head. "Thank you, Your Highness," he said with genuine gratitude.
Then the princess moved to Kylian's side. This was the moment he had been simultaneously anticipating and dreading. His heart rate increased noticeably, he could feel his pulse pounding in his temples and hear the rush of blood in his ears. As she drew closer, he raised his hands to accept the tea cup from the tray.
Their hands brushed.
It was natural, unavoidable given the geometry of the transfer—the palm and fingers of Kylian's hand brushing against the outer edge of the princess's hand. The contact lasted perhaps two seconds, no more. Yet it was monumental.
The world itself seemed to narrow down to just that singular moment. The serene grove, the water flowing somewhere in the background, the murmur of wind through bamboo, the delicate scent of the tea—all of it crystallized into perfect clarity around this point of contact. The warmth of her skin registered first, then everything else followed in a rush. His breath caught. The sounds of the grove seemed to recede, leaving only the awareness of that brief contact and the strange clarity it created, making everything else seem distant.
It was not just him who felt something—of that he was certain. He heard a quiet gasp from the princess, though it wasn't a sound of distress but rather surprise, perhaps even recognition of the same electric charge that had passed through them both. He glanced up at her face, and for a flicker of a moment that violated every protocol she had been trained to observe, their eyes met. Her breath seemed to catch, suspended between one heartbeat and the next, and he saw something in her dark eyes—surprise, perhaps, or curiosity, or something deeper that he didn't dare name.
She turned away quickly, breaking the gaze as though she had touched something forbidden. Her breath, which had stopped after that involuntary gasp, resumed in a rhythm that seemed slightly faster than normal. Kylian found himself staring at his own hand, the part that had made contact with hers, as though it now belonged to someone else entirely.
Princess Changning walked to her seat with movements that were perhaps fractionally less composed than her earlier grace, though probably only someone watching her as intently as Kylian would notice the subtle difference. She then moved behind the divider to serve tea to the Consort, disappearing from view.
"Please drink, esteemed guests. This tea is specially prepared for you," said a voice from behind the divider in Chinese. A translator positioned discreetly to the side conveyed the Consort's words in serviceable English.
Kylian and Wolfgang both raised their heads in acknowledgment. The Chinese court was indeed cosmopolitan despite the empire's political decline—the presence of a translator spoke to sophisticated diplomatic practice.
"We are honored to receive such a privilege," Kylian replied, hoping his voice sounded steadier than he felt.
Both officers brought their cups to their lips. Kylian inhaled first—the aroma was of spring blossoms and earthy root, complex and inviting. He sipped. The flavor was not what he expected, not bitter as he had sometimes found tea to be, but delicately floral with a whisper of apricot and fresh, earthy tones that bloomed on his tongue. It was subtle, complex, and utterly captivating.
He looked up, his eyes finding hers for a fleeting second before she looked away. In that moment, he understood something he couldn't quite articulate. The tea was like her—elegant, serene, containing a hidden, surprising sweetness that, once tasted, could never be forgotten. The metaphor was almost too perfect, and he quickly brushed it aside, telling himself he was getting carried away with romantic notions that had no place in diplomatic service. Something was wrong with him for even thinking of the princess in such terms.
Princess Changning returned to her designated position. She felt the weight of his gaze on her—though it was subtle, consisting of occasional glances rather than stares, it was as tangible as the touch itself had been. When she finally took her own sip of tea after the guests had been served, Kylian noticed that she held the cup with both hands, raising it to her face in a way that almost seemed designed to conceal her expression. Was she hiding a smile? A blush? He couldn't tell, but he sensed there was definitely tension in the air, though he couldn't pinpoint its exact nature or source.
Kylian looked at the tray of mooncakes on the table, studying the various colors and designs. Taking one piece—choosing almost at random, his mind still occupied elsewhere, he bit into it. The pastry was sweet and delicious, the filling smooth and rich, yet he could barely taste it. He was trying to forget what had happened moments earlier, but the memory remained vivid in his mind. The part of his hand that had brushed hers still tingled as though her touch had left some invisible mark, and he found himself wondering what kind of spell he had fallen under.
The tea ceremony continued with perfect formality. More tea was poured, more subtle courtesies exchanged, all while the woman behind the divider remained a mysterious presence that dominated the gathering despite her invisibility. Yet for Kylian, everything else had become background to the memory of that single moment of contact—two seconds that had somehow altered something fundamental in how he perceived the world and his place in it.
As the afternoon sun filtered through the bamboo canopy, creating patterns of light and shadow that shifted with the breeze, Kylian sat in the peaceful grove and realized with growing certainty that there's something inside him that's feeling something he can't quite make sure of.