Victor Hugo once described Notre-Dame de Paris as a great symphony of stone, calling architecture frozen music — each carefully placed stone in a building was a wondrous note, and different combinations played out different melodies. A’Luo had visited the Forbidden City in Beijing, the Shenyang Imperial Palace, the Grand Palace in Bangkok, and the Louvre in France. She had seen reproductions of Han and Qin dynasty palaces built for film sets, but the sight of Prince Ning’s palace, built into the mountainside, left her utterly astonished. Looking up from the massive plaza at the foot of the mountain, craning her neck to its limit, she still couldn’t take in the full sight of the palace atop the peak.

A’Luo thought, wouldn’t it be exhausting for the people living up there, going up and down the mountain all the time? She asked the First Madam: “Madam, how tall is this palace at its highest point? Wouldn’t it be tiring for the people living up there?”

The First Madam glanced at her: “The highest point is the Cold Palace — the people there don’t need to come down the mountain. Let me explain clearly now so you don’t wander around carelessly once we’re inside. The main hall where the Prince holds court is at the foot of the mountain. A bit higher up is actually a valley, where the various halls of the inner palace are located. It’s simply positioned a bit higher up. Further up still is the palace library, the laundry courtyard, and similar places. At the very top are the Ancestral Shrine and the Cold Palace. The Imperial Garden lies toward the southwest of the valley, with various streams flowing in from Suiyu Spring — that’s where Her Majesty the Empress is hosting the banquet today. The Imperial Garden is very large, and there’s water flowing through it in many channels, so whatever you do, don’t wander off — you might get lost and cause trouble. Understand?”

The three of them quickly answered: “Understood.”

They entered the palace gate and switched to lighter sedan chairs. A’Luo secretly lifted a corner of the curtain to look out. The sky was a grayish blue, night nearly falling. All sorts of lanterns were hung throughout the palace, bright as day. When they reached the entrance to the Imperial Garden, everyone got out of their sedan chairs, and A’Luo was astonished to find that the path itself seemed to glow faintly. It reminded her of the streetlights embedded in modern roads. She slowed her pace a little, glanced around to make sure no one was watching, and quickly crouched down to touch it — it was stone. She guessed it must be some kind of mineral containing phosphorescent compounds. It gave off light without being glaring, and she marveled that Prince Ning truly knew how to enjoy luxury. From a distance, the entire Imperial Garden seemed outlined by various lines of light.

A’Luo squinted and looked more closely, and suddenly realized these lines formed the shape of a bird. As they were led closer to their seats, she realized she was sitting right at the bird’s head. They had entered the garden through what must have been the bird’s claws. Given how wide the bird’s head was, and its wings spread out, the Imperial Garden truly was enormous.

Watching the maids moving back and forth, A’Luo noticed that the maidservant the First Madam had brought along had been switched — it wasn’t Juan’er. She hadn’t seen Juan’er in a long time and didn’t know whether she was still in the First Madam’s courtyard or had been sent elsewhere. There was nothing she could do about it, no way to help — Juan’er’s fate was simply out of her hands.

By then the invited wives and daughters had gradually arrived. Across from A’Luo’s table should have been the seats for the Chancellor Gu household. Beside her, at a table by herself, sat a young lady of about ten-some years, composed and at ease, her profile quite lovely from the side. A’Luo thought, this must be the legendary Wang Yanhui.

As if sensing she was being watched, the young woman turned her face and gave A’Luo a faint smile. Her eyes were clear and bright as autumn water. A’Luo returned a sweet smile as well, feeling a measure of goodwill toward her.

She heard Qinglei give a soft huff, and the young woman turned her head to look across the way. A’Luo followed her gaze and saw Gu Tianlin, supporting her mother, taking her seat. A’Luo almost wanted to laugh — Qinglei and Gu Tianlin truly were evenly matched rivals. Qinglei looked dignified and elegant today, and so did Gu Tianlin. Both were dressed similarly, except Gu Tianlin’s outfit was in lighter colors, while Qinglei’s was darker. One had plum blossoms embroidered on her gown, sparkling under the lamplight along with her jewelry. As for Gu Tianlin, the thread she used seemed rather special, reflecting light just like the phosphorescent stones in the garden — equally dazzling. As for Wang Yanhui, her clothing had nothing particularly special about it, but a string of pearls around her neck cast a soft glow onto her face.

A’Luo thought, if only there were a spotlight overhead — like the kind used on stage — and suddenly thought of the Virgin Mary, and had to suppress a laugh, lowering her head.

An official announced loudly: “His Majesty and Her Majesty the Empress have arrived!”

All the ladies quickly left their seats and knelt, calling out three cheers. Once everyone was seated again, A’Luo secretly glanced ahead. Prince Ning appeared to be around fifty, resembling the Crown Prince closely — he must have been quite a handsome man in his youth. The Empress wore a large phoenix crown, appeared to be around forty, with generous, well-proportioned features — an average sort of beauty.

The Crown Prince stood beside Prince Ning. His gaze drifted this way; A’Luo glanced sideways and saw Qinglei’s face flush, her head lowering. Then she raised it again, sending a swift, bashful glance toward the Crown Prince. A’Luo noticed a smile forming at the corner of the Crown Prince’s mouth.

Prince Ning said: “Since Her Majesty is hosting the banquet today, this humble one is merely a guest as well. Please let Her Majesty preside.”

The Empress didn’t decline much, thanked him, and spoke: “The moon is full at Mid-Autumn — a fine time to admire the scenery. Today let us seek only joy, and set aside all else. Let each household’s young ladies prepare their talents, so as not to waste this beautiful occasion.”

A’Luo thought, the two of you must have planned this together beforehand. The Empress stages the contest, and the Emperor gets to watch and compare.

A female official beside the Empress stepped forward and announced clearly: “Today all the beauties have gathered. Each household will select one representative, who will draw a topic by lot and perform accordingly. By Her Majesty’s decree, whether the performance is good or poor, all will receive a reward. Each table has been given a flower-marked token — after each performance, you may mark on it who you believe performed best, and the top three will be selected.”

A’Luo thought, oh, it’s like a talent competition. We’re all the popular vote judges.

Prince Ning laughed: “This humble one and Her Majesty, along with the various imperial relatives, all have flower tokens too — that counts as a vote as well. Watch carefully before you cast it!” A ripple of laughter came from the shadows behind him: “Yes, Your Highness.”

A’Luo looked carefully and only then noticed that there were a few tables set up near the bird’s beak, screened by clusters of flowering trees, making it hard to see who was seated there — only the Crown Prince sat below, in front of Prince Ning and the Empress.

After a while, maidservants came around to each table with a bucket of lots. The First Madam reached in and drew out a slip. The maid noted the number.

The First Madam carefully unfolded the paper and saw it read: recite a tongue-twister. She was momentarily stunned — what kind of topic was this? She frowned: “Qinglei, you’ll need to think this through carefully.”

A’Luo thought, this one’s simple — it just depends on whether Qinglei’s diction is nimble enough. Looking around, she saw all sorts of expressions — some beaming with delight, others with furrowed brows.

After a while, the Empress murmured something to the female official, who then announced clearly: “Will the ladies who drew lots number three and number seven please step forward.”

Gu Tianlin slowly walked forward and bowed before the imperial seats. The official continued: “Lot number three belongs to the Chancellor Gu household’s daughter, whose task is to dance while painting. Lot number seven belongs to the Minister Gao household’s daughter, whose task is to play the zither, performing the piece ‘Rain on the Banana Leaves.’ Miss Gu’s dance must match the melody, while Miss Gao’s playing must match Miss Gu’s painting — and when the zither piece ends, Miss Gu’s painting must be finished as well.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd — if the coordination went poorly, it would be quite the disaster. It seemed clearly designed to make a spectacle of the young ladies.

Miss Gao’s fingers began to move, the notes flowing in an unbroken stream like pearls. Gu Tianlin froze for a moment, then swept her cloud-patterned sleeve, beginning with very slow dance steps. She swept it again, but it didn’t match the tempo, so her body began to spin quickly, one hand rapidly starting to paint on the paper. The melody grew increasingly urgent, and Gu Tianlin’s brushstrokes came swift, her dance steps quickening. Her silk skirt spun into the shape of a flower, matched with the glittering embroidery thread — an exceedingly beautiful sight.

Meanwhile, Miss Gao’s hands never stopped, but her eyes noticed Miss Gu’s painting still wasn’t finished, and the piece was almost over. She had no choice but to slow the tempo, and what began as “Rain on the Banana Leaves” turned into something more like drizzling drops. Soft laughter began rippling through the crowd.

This gave Gu Tianlin the chance to slow down, gently swaying her long sleeves, delicately twisting her waist, slowly finishing the painting. She glanced at Miss Gao, smiled faintly, and finished with the final brushstroke. Only then did Miss Gao quickly play all ten fingers at once, the raindrops splattering onto the leaves to bring the piece to a close.

The two returned to their seats. A’Luo looked at Gu Tianlin’s painting — it was indeed of banana leaves in the rain, slightly disheveled by the raindrops, but still a fine piece of work. She privately praised her for her cleverness and refined talent.

The official spoke again: “Will the ladies who drew lots number four and number six please step forward.”

This time it was Qinglei and the Minister Chen household’s daughter. Miss Chen would recite a tongue-twister, increasing from one line to five, with Qinglei repeating each line after her; once finished, Miss Chen would then have to recite the entire tongue-twister from start to finish without a mistake.

This time, both young ladies performed excellently. A’Luo thought, so Qinglei really does have quite the gift for eloquence.

For the next round, Wang Yanhui stepped forward — but she alone, with no partner. Her assigned topic was to devise a game that everyone could participate in. Wang Yanhui smiled: “May I ask the female official to come hear my arrangement?”

The Empress nodded, and the official walked over to Wang Yanhui. After a moment of whispering, she withdrew. Wang Yanhui then announced clearly: “The Imperial Garden at night is as bright as day, yet the paths wind and turn — eventually all leading back here. I ask that the official set up riddles at each junction; those who solve them will learn the next route, with this spot as the final destination for every route. Whoever collects the most route maps by solving riddles wins. This way, guests may both enjoy the scenery and add some delight by solving riddles — I wonder what Your Majesty thinks?”

Before the Empress could respond, Prince Ning was already delighted: “Excellent, what a clever idea for a contest. Would Her Majesty care to join me?”

The Empress smiled in reply: “I wonder whether Your Majesty and I will end up being the ones who solve the fewest riddles.”

The Emperor and Empress set off first, and everyone else rose and began making their way into the garden.

The First Madam smiled: “There are four of us — with everyone contributing, it shouldn’t be too hard.” With that, she walked slowly into the garden along with Qinglei, Qingfei, and Qingluo.

A’Luo thought privately: this time, no matter what, I’m not opening my mouth again.