The afternoon of early summer — sunlight filtered through tree branches, casting fragmented shadows across the stone pavement. A gentle breeze stirred the trees, leaves swaying and shadows dancing in kind, accompanied by the droning song of cicadas. It was the kind of languid melody that lulled even the most vigilant to the edge of slumber — and even the imperial palace guards, who were expected to maintain absolute alertness, could not suppress a yawn at the corner of their lips.

Yet summer’s drowsiness held no sway over children. While the adults drifted into a haze, the children were each and every one of them brimming with energy.

Slipping quietly past the serving maids who dozed beside the beds with fans still in hand, easing open chamber doors without a sound, ducking low to slip past the guards who stood tall and proud with eyes half-shut, then tiptoeing with heads tucked low through long corridors and courtyards.

It was the twelfth day of the fourth month in the tenth year of Emperor Li’s reign, at the hour of noon.

From the imperial palace’s Jitian Palace, Fengying Palace, Diyan Palace, and Jinsheng Palace, four exquisitely-featured little children each slipped away in secret.

The purple-clad child, roughly seven or eight years of age, emerged from Diyan Palace and, after briefly confirming his bearings, raised his chin, clasped his hands behind his back with remarkable poise, and strode grandly to the left. One would never suspect from his small stature that such presence could reside in so young a frame — yet his sword-straight brows and bright, starlike eyes lent his handsome face a bearing that already hinted at commanding authority. He pressed his little red lips together with an air of utmost seriousness, and with the seven-dragon golden crown binding his hair atop his head and the nine-aperture exquisite jade belt at his waist, one glance was enough to know he was no ordinary child. And so, even the unfamiliar guards outside did not dare step forward to question him — they likely assumed he was the Shizi brought along by one of the six noble kings who had come to celebrate His Majesty the Emperor’s birthday, for how else could a child so young carry himself with such an air of nobility?

The purple-clad child tilted his small chin upward and swept his gaze over the imperial guards in a grand, self-important inspection. Finding them no different from the guards in his own palace, he lost interest and decided to seek out the treasure he had spotted the moment he entered the palace — the Bāhuǎng Tower, encircled on all sides by layers of emerald bamboo — the very place his royal father had warned him three times over never to enter without an imperial decree. But the moment he turned, he found himself face to face with a black-clad child walking toward him.

The black-clad child appeared to be about the same age, judging by his height, but his demeanor and bearing were entirely different. His skin was fair as snow, his hair dark as ink, his brows long and graceful, his eyes the shape of a phoenix’s — and across his face rested a warm, gentle smile that invited affection at first sight. So it was that as the black-clad child had passed through the imperial gardens, the palace servants trimming the flowers and hedges had pressed gifts upon him one after another, until now his arms were full of blossoms — yellow and white and green and violet and red and blue — which, framing that soft and fair little face, made him look rather like a celestial child who had drifted down from the heavens to wander through this earthly imperial residence out of passing curiosity.

The purple-clad child and the black-clad child regarded each other, each taking the measure of the other, probing and appraising in silence. After a long moment, both children simultaneously turned their lips in disdain.

One had his eyes fixed on the flowers and greenery cradled in the other’s arms, utterly contemptuous that a proper boy would go about carrying flowers and plants.

The other had his eyes fixed on the hands clasped primly behind the other’s back, thoroughly scornful that someone so young would put on such airs.

After staring each other down for a while, both stepped forward at the same moment — neither willing to fall a single step behind, neither willing to show the slightest trace of impatience. One remained as stern and commanding as ever; the other kept his smile warm and agreeable. Each advanced toward the other with steps that were both rapid and composed, and when only a single stride separated them, both simultaneously turned — heading, with identical purpose, down the same broad stone path.

As they fell into step, each stole a glance at the other, then quickly looked away, and both strode forward with the air of a sovereign surveying his own domain. But quite without meaning to, they had fallen into perfect unison — a development that pleased neither of them in the slightest. Yet neither could slow down to fall behind the other; if one quickened, so did the other, and so they were left with no choice but to continue marching in stride. Still, the displeasure in their hearts had to find some outlet — so one made his smile bloom all the more brilliantly, while the other let his gaze sharpen to a keener edge. And since neither cared to look at the other, both turned their attention to the guards lining either side of the path — with dramatically different results.

On the left, the guards saw only this dainty, jade-carved little child, arms full of flowers and plants, smiling softly at them — and every last one of them found themselves involuntarily contorting their stiff faces into reluctant smiles in return, terrified of being too slow in their response and giving offense. On the right, the guards saw this little child who barely reached their waists striding toward them with an air of such sweeping, imperious authority that every last one of them involuntarily dropped their gaze and stepped back a half-pace, afraid they might be standing in his way and were the cause of his displeasure. By the time those guards thought to recall that no one was permitted to pass this way without an imperial edict, the two children had long since vanished from sight.

The dense bamboo grove shut out the blazing sun and stirred a cool, refreshing breeze — a soft, rustling song that rose and fell in gentle waves.

The moment they stepped into the bamboo grove, both children felt a wave of pleasant coolness wash over them, and without thinking, each let out a long, relieved breath at the same time. When they noticed that the other had done exactly the same, both simultaneously let out a cold snort and turned their heads away.

It was at that very moment that a faint sound drifted through the bamboo — like the soft, contented smacking of lips from some small creature in the midst of a dream.

Both children immediately glanced around, each privately hoping to spot a little rabbit or perhaps a small cat — but a full sweep of the surroundings revealed no creature at all, only lush green bamboo in every direction. They were still puzzling over this when the soft lip-smacking came again, clearly and unmistakably this time. Without any prior grudge being set aside or any truce being declared, the two children exchanged a single look, then simultaneously began to tiptoe toward the source of the sound. After some two hundred paces, both stopped at the same moment.

Not far ahead, perhaps a zhang or so away, stood a white marble stone table. Curled atop it, sound asleep, was a white-clad child of roughly five or six years of age. Scattered all across the ground beneath the table were clean-picked bones, and the sleeping child still had a bone tucked in her mouth, sucking on it with evident relish and sleeping soundly.

The purple-clad child and the black-clad child drew closer, circling the white-clad girl a few times, but she showed no sign of waking — aside from the occasional smack of her lips, she did not stir at all. Both found themselves unable to help feeling that this sleeping little one was utterly adorable, and so, one reached out and gave a tug at the black hair fanned across the stone table, while the other drew a white peony from his armful of flowers and lightly brushed it across the girl’s cheek.

The white-clad child, deep in sweet slumber, felt a sudden tug at her scalp and then a tickling sensation on her face. She instinctively flailed a hand to wave it away, her lips moving a few times, and the chicken bone slipped out of her mouth — yet still she did not wake, sinking back into undisturbed sleep.

The purple-clad child and the black-clad child found this immensely novel and entertaining, and so they kept at it — one tugging hair, the other tickling — until the white-clad child stretched out an arm and covered her face with her sleeve, tucking her head down, and a drowsy murmur drifted out: “Good elder brother, don’t disturb me. Wait until I catch the ginseng child to make you a chicken broth and cure your illness.”

“Pfft—!” Both the purple-clad child and the black-clad child burst out in a snicker.

“Good elder brother, be quiet. Be careful not to startle the ginseng child away — then we’ll have nothing to eat.” The white-clad child mumbled on, still lost in her dream.

At these words, the purple-clad child and the black-clad child fell silent at once. They looked at the white-clad child sleeping before them — her features delicate and fine, her skin soft and tender, altogether charming — and both simultaneously reached out to pinch those cheeks that looked as though they might drip with water. Their hands met midway and bumped into each other. Both looked up and glared, each silently demanding the other yield and let them go first — but neither gaze nor will showed the slightest weakness, and after a prolonged standoff, neither had given an inch.

Hands slowly drew back. Eyes remained locked. Fingers spread wide. Then, quick as a flash, both small hands shot out — this time both finding their mark. But in the rush for speed, neither had thought to moderate their force, and a sharp “Ouch!” rang out as the white-clad child reflexively flung both hands up and clawed hard at whatever had seized her face.

Two sharp hisses followed — from the purple-clad child and the black-clad child — as they yanked their hands back from the white-clad child’s cheeks, each finding five red scratch marks now adorning their fair little hands.

The white-clad child yawned and opened her eyes, blinking in mild confusion at the two children before her. She could not understand how, after sleeping peacefully through two full afternoons in this spot, she had woken to find two strangers here — and strangers who were both looking at her with expressions of deep, aggrieved resentment.

“I’ve already finished the Silan Hibiscus Chicken — there’s none left for you!” The white-clad child blurted it out reflexively, assuming these two had discovered the Silan Hibiscus Chicken she’d stolen from the imperial kitchen and were holding a grudge over not getting a share, and she wanted to make her position clear without delay. It was worth noting that the Silan Hibiscus Chicken was unique in all the world — only two birds existed. One she had quite magnanimously left in the imperial kitchen for His Majesty the Emperor’s enjoyment (word was that at tomorrow’s birthday banquet, it would be divided among the six noble kings, one portion each — and if she were on her best princess behavior, perhaps Father King, in a good mood, might just give her his portion too). The other bird had, of course and without contest, gone straight into her own stomach — though she had quietly saved a drumstick for Elder Brother Xie Yue. But these two looked nothing as fine as Elder Brother Xie Yue — why should she have saved any for them?

At these words, both the purple-clad child and the black-clad child flushed red with indignation. As if they would want any “hibiscus chicken”! To be lumped in with a beggar — the sheer audacity!

But wait — Silan Hibiscus Chicken? That impossibly rare bird of which only two existed in all the world, known as the “Phoenix of the Earth,” reserved solely for the Emperor’s consumption?

Both children simultaneously shifted their gaze to the clean-picked bones scattered across the ground, stared for a long moment, then turned their eyes back to the white-clad child on the table. Could she really have…

The white-clad child had by now fully come awake, and the realization of what she’d just said sent a small twinge of guilt through her. She slid quietly down from the stone table, glanced at the bones on the ground, and declared with a thoroughly unconvincing air of righteousness: “Those aren’t chicken bones…”

Caught in the beam of a pair of golden eyes bright as sunlight, her voice faltered somewhat: “Those are… duck bones I ate…”

A pair of deep, ink-black eyes fixed upon her unblinkingly, and her voice shrank further still. “These… at the very least aren’t… Silan Hibiscus Chicken…”

“These are Silan Hibiscus Chicken,” said the black-clad child, his tone gentle, his smile refined.

“The crest shaped like an orchid — universally known.” The purple-clad child pointed to the intact orchid-shaped crest still visible on the chicken skull among the remains on the ground.

“So you have stolen the tribute meant for His Majesty the Emperor,” said the black-clad child, his voice laden with sorrow.

“By law — the entire clan to be executed!” said the purple-clad child, his tone cutting and severe.

“Is… is this really a Silan Hibiscus Chicken?” The white-clad child asked with a faint note of hesitation and timidity, her toes tracing little helpless circles in the ground, the very picture of innocence. Elder Brother Xie Yue had told her — when faced with someone stronger than you, a show of weakness can strike at their resolve.

“This is the Silan Hibiscus Chicken reserved for the Emperor’s consumption alone!” declared the purple-clad child and black-clad child in unison, both regarding the white-clad child with expressions of profound sympathy.

“Then what do I do? Will I have my head cut off?” The white-clad child’s eyes welled with tears, her small hands twisting at her hem, and she gazed up pitifully at the purple-clad child and black-clad child who each stood half a head taller than her. Elder Brother Xie Yue had told her — a girl’s tears can melt a boy to softness. She didn’t quite understand what “melt to softness” meant, but she had seen the concubines in Father King’s household look up at him with eyes brimming with tears all the time. With her cleverness, learning the technique was surely not difficult.

“Perhaps,” said the black-clad child, tilting his small head with a noncommittal air.

“Under normal circumstances, that is correct,” confirmed the purple-clad child with a decisive nod.

“Then… will the two elder brothers save me?” the white-clad child appealed at once. Elder Brother Xie Yue had told her — boys love to play the hero, and nothing delights them more than rescuing a damsel in distress. She hadn’t ever actually seen a “hero” herself, but she — well, every person who had come to pay their respects to Father King had told her she would grow up to be a great “beauty.” So if these two were willing to help her, she could reluctantly acknowledge them as “heroes.”

The purple-clad child and the black-clad child circled the white-clad child twice, looked her over with care from head to toe, and after a moment, both nodded readily.

The black-clad child thought inwardly: Father had often spoken of this principle — better to gain one more young ally than to make one more young enemy. Today it would cost him nothing more than the labor of keeping his mouth shut to consider himself her savior. Palace servants always said: a life-saving grace must be repaid a hundredfold. When the time came that he had need of her, he could call upon her for limitless, cost-free service. Truly a venture with boundless return on the smallest of investments.

The purple-clad child considered: Father had always taught that bestowing grace upon another earns their loyalty in return. And this white-clad child appeared sharp and clever — there might well come a day when she would be of great use. What that great use might be, he hadn’t yet determined, but with his mind, another year or two and he would figure it out — and then he could put her to use.

The white-clad child, the moment she saw both nod, did not even wait for their spoken promise before declaring with great generosity: “The two elder brothers are great heroes!” She then offered up a wide, beaming smile by way of gratitude.

At that smile, both the purple-clad child and the black-clad child were caught off guard — that smile was so clear and sweet and pure that it was unlike anything they were accustomed to seeing. And without knowing why, each felt a sudden loosening in the chest, a sense of ease spreading through them.

“How did the two elder brothers come to be here?” the white-clad child asked, that smile still sweet and guileless on her face.

The purple-clad child lifted his gaze through the gaps in the bamboo, looking up at the towering Bāhuǎng Tower, and in a tone far more solemn than his years warranted, he said: “I heard that this Bāhuǎng Tower is the tallest building in all the imperial capital. Standing at the top, even the imperial palace lies beneath your feet.”

The black-clad child only smiled serenely and said: “This is the only place I had not yet seen.”

“And why did you come here?” the purple-clad child turned and asked the white-clad child.

“Because it’s cool and quiet and perfect for sleeping through the afternoon,” she answered without hesitation.

The three children looked at each other, and in that moment, each felt something stir quietly in their hearts — vague and impossible to name. At the time, the three who would one day be called the “Three Kings of the Tumultuous Age” were still very young, and they could not yet recognize what they felt as the nervous excitement of meeting those destined to become their rivals.

“Is this place really called the Bāhuǎng Tower?” the white-clad child’s crisp voice rang out again.

“Yes,” the purple-clad child answered quickly — but the moment the words left his mouth, a small unease crept into his heart. He shot a glance at the black-clad child, just as the black-clad child turned to look at him. Both felt a guilty flutter and looked back at the white-clad child, hoping she didn’t know.

“So this place really is called the Bāhuǎng Tower!” the white-clad child said with delight, her bright eyes darting between the purple-clad child and the black-clad child as she broke into a radiant smile. “I heard that anyone who enters here without His Majesty’s imperial decree will be killed without mercy. Is that so, elder brothers?”

Both the purple-clad child and the black-clad child fixed their stares on the white-clad child. A moment ago she had seemed so clever and charming — how had she transformed in the blink of an eye into something sly and insufferable? She had been playing them all along!

“How exactly did the two elder brothers get in here?” the white-clad child asked sweetly — having at last evened the score for being on the losing end earlier.

The three children glared at each other for a long moment. And then, in the end…

The purple-clad child let out a cold snort through his nose and pointed at the chicken bones on the ground: “These are not Silan Hibiscus Chicken bones.” A gentleman’s revenge need not be hasty — the purple-clad child thought magnanimously.

The black-clad child smiled warmly, composed and gracious, and gave a small nod. “These are duck bones.” A true person of consequence knows when to yield and when to stand firm — the black-clad child thought with equanimity.

“Hehe…” The white-clad child laughed with unrestrained delight, nodding repeatedly. “I knew the two elder brothers were teasing me. Of course this place isn’t called the Bāhuǎng Tower.” It’s no great accomplishment to bully just anyone — but to bully someone who appears formidable is a very satisfying thing indeed! the white-clad child congratulated herself silently, brimming with satisfaction. She would tell Elder Brother about this when she got back — Elder Brother would surely say all those lessons in military strategy had not been wasted on her.

The three children exchanged one final look, each giving a grave nod, sealing a silent and mutual understanding.

Just then, a faint and delicate tinkling of bells drifted from within the grove. All three children turned at once. Through the emerald bamboo, a corner of soft pink slowly came into view, and a moment later, a pink-clad child stepped into sight. The child appeared to be about three or four years of age, with features as fine as a painting and skin as white as snow — like a crystal figurine, so perfectly delicate and luminous that all three children were struck momentarily speechless.

The pink-clad child caught sight of the three larger children in the bamboo grove and also startled, hesitating in place, uncertain whether to approach. Her gaze traveled over all three in turn before settling at last on the gentle, warm-smiling black-clad child, who seemed the most handsome and approachable. She then stepped lightly forward with dainty, graceful movements and tugged at the corner of his sleeve with one little hand, asking in a sweet, clear voice: “Big brother, do you know where the ‘Phoenix King’s Empress Crown’ is?”

Hm? All three children blinked in surprise and were momentarily at a loss for words.

“Father King said this is called the Bāhuǎng Tower, and inside it, the crown of the ‘Phoenix King’ is kept. Father King also said it is even more noble than Her Majesty the Empress’s phoenix crown — it was personally named the ‘Empress Crown’ by His Majesty Shi Di! Chunran wants it!” The pink-clad child tilted her head with an adorable little pout. Though so young, her manner and bearing already carried a faint whisper of captivating grace.

All three children stared at the pink-clad child with wide eyes. They hadn’t expected that the youngest of the group would have the grandest ambitions.

“The ‘Phoenix King’s Empress Crown’ is unique in all the world. After the Phoenix King passed, His Majesty Shi Di sealed it within the Bāhuǎng Tower and issued a decree: ‘The phoenix ascends to the nine heavens — the Empress Crown shall be forever forbidden.’ Not even the descendants of the Phoenix King, nor the reigning Feng Wang, may wear it — much less you.” The purple-clad child looked at the pink-clad child, found her so exquisitely adorable that he couldn’t help explaining kindly, hoping to spare her from meeting her end over a crown that had been gathering dust for hundreds of years.

“But… but Chunran likes it so much! Chunran wants it!” At his words, the pink-clad child’s mouth immediately crumpled, and crystal-like tears began to cascade down her luminous little cheeks in a steady stream — an expression of such boundless grievance that the hearts of all three children softened at once. The white-clad child had only managed to keep tears brimming in her eyes earlier, but this one had them pouring down instantly — clearly surpassing the white-clad child’s skill by a considerable measure.

It was a rare moment when the black-clad child’s heart went soft, and in that rare moment his generous impulse took over. He bent down, patted the pink-clad child gently on top of her head, and coaxed: “There, there, don’t cry. That Empress Crown has been sitting there for several hundred years — it must be crumbling and ugly by now, not beautiful at all. You are so lovely, little sister. Perhaps you will one day be the most beautiful woman in the world. Only the most beautiful phoenix crown, fit for the most beautiful woman under the heavens, would be worthy of you.” The black-clad child’s tone and manner were so warm and earnest that to doubt him for even a moment would feel like delivering him the gravest of wounds — and who could bear to wound such a gracious soul?

“Is the phoenix crown very beautiful?” The pink-clad child stopped her tears at once and looked up at the black-clad child with eyes full of hope.

“Of course,” said the black-clad child, nodding, his handsome face the picture of sincerity. “The Empress presides over all under heaven and is the most beautiful woman in the world — so little sister, one day you shall wear the Empress’s phoenix crown. You don’t need the Phoenix King’s ‘Empress Crown.'” He then stooped slightly as though to share a secret, though both the purple-clad child and the white-clad child could hear him perfectly clearly: “Just between us, I’ve heard the Phoenix King was quite homely.”

“All right then! Chunran doesn’t want the ‘Empress Crown’ anymore. Chunran wants to be the most beautiful woman in the world and wear the prettiest phoenix crown!” The pink-clad child clapped her little hands with delight and cheerfully settled on a new goal.

Standing to one side, the purple-clad child felt a flicker of jealousy that the black-clad child had soothed the pink-clad child so swiftly, and a touch of contempt that the pink-clad child could not tell which crown — the phoenix crown or the Empress Crown — held greater honor. He found the whole affair rather disagreeable and tilted his head back to stare at the sky by way of declaring himself above such things.

The white-clad child, meanwhile, was annoyed at the black-clad child for speaking such smooth nonsense and deceiving this adorable pink-clad child, yet could not bring herself to expose the lie and make the pink-clad child cry again. She too could only raise her face to the sky in silent, indignant protest.

And in doing so, both the purple-clad child and the white-clad child were stopped cold by what they saw.

There, perched atop the swaying tips of the bamboo above their heads, was a child of flawless white jade — regarding them below with a gaze deep and still and quiet. This child did not appear to be much older than they were, yet he sat effortlessly upon the tall, slender, swaying bamboo tips; when the breeze moved the tips, he swayed along with them — a sight that left both the purple-clad child and the white-clad child stunned with admiration, for at their ages, such a feat was entirely beyond them.

“Who are you?” the purple-clad child called up.

“Are you a celestial elder brother?” the white-clad child also called out.

The black-clad child and the pink-clad child, hearing the questions, looked up as well, equally astonished at the sight of the white-jade child perched aloft as though on the verge of taking flight.

But the white-jade child did not answer. He only gazed quietly at the four children in the bamboo grove. Which one was the one he sought? Perhaps he would know after he visited Changmang Shan.

“We will meet again.”

His voice drifted down — light and unhurried — and the white-jade child rose from the bamboo tip, lightly pressing off with the tips of his toes. That small figure rose into the air, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

“Oh, that must surely be the White Jade Celestial Elder Brother from the heavens!” The white-clad child gazed toward the direction in which the white-jade child had vanished, her voice full of endless wonder and admiration and longing.

“Immortals all have long beards!” the purple-clad child corrected, and added with emphasis: “And I will one day be able to fly up to the bamboo tips too. I’ll go even higher than he did — absolutely.”

“That was a false immortal,” the black-clad child said with casual certainty.

“That was an immortal!” the white-clad child insisted.

“No, he wasn’t!”

“He was a false one!”

“He was an immortal!”

…

The three older children argued back and forth without giving an inch, while the pink-clad child settled elegantly onto a stone stool nearby, drew a pink silk handkerchief from her sleeve, dabbed at the remaining teardrops on her face, and watched the three squabbling children with evident amusement.

This was the first meeting of Feng Xiyun, Feng Lanxi, Huang Chao, Hua Chunran, and Yu Wuyuan.

At the time they were still small, and it was nothing more than a chance encounter in the forbidden grounds of the imperial palace.

What they did not know then was that after this parting, many years would pass before they met again — so many that, not long after each had returned home, the memory of this brief first meeting had already quietly faded from their minds.

They did not know that when they met again, years later as grown figures, there would be entanglements and bonds that would hold them all together.

They did not know that years later still, standing together at the very heights of a turbulent age, they would meet again upon the stage of history — weaving together legend after legend, bestowing upon one another joys and sorrows carved deep to the bone.

And they did not know that years beyond that, those who had been regarded so indifferently in this moment would become woven into the very blood and marrow of one another’s lives.

Here beneath the Bāhuǎng Tower, in this forbidden place, a few children of extraordinary standing had already engaged in a small but quietly fierce contest of wills — without ever exchanging names or announcing families — and had parted in a draw.

At the time, the characters of each were already beginning to take shape, though they were still small. Each was clever in their own way, each with a touch of cunning — but they were still, at that age, genuinely pure of heart and honest of spirit, each willing to speak plainly of their own reasons and wishes. The words that would quietly define the whole of their lives were spoken openly and without pretense on that day.

One wished to stand at the highest place and look down upon all the world.

One only wished to see everything he had not yet seen.

One only wished to find a cool, quiet spot for an undisturbed nap.

One wished to wear the most exalted crown a woman could wear.

Many years later, when they met again as rivals, companions, enemies, and kin, none of them could recall this childhood encounter, nor could they remember the words spoken on that one afternoon. Yet each of them had their wish granted — and each of them lost something in return.

Only that first meeting beneath the Bāhuǎng Tower drifted slowly with the passage of time, quietly turning to memory, quietly flowing away, until at last it vanished entirely, like smoke dissolving into sky.

Only because, at the time, they were all still very young.