Hongzhi Year 18, Tenth Day of the Second Month.
No list left.
Zhu Houzhao said today rest, I thought he'd sleep till noon. But sky not yet bright, Liu Jin came bang my door.
"Jiang Li! Jiang Li! His Highness call you!"
I groggily got up, pushed door open, cold wind gusted in face. Zhu Houzhao standing in courtyard, wearing that gray cloth short jacket, hair casually tied, holding a stack of papers. Seeing me, mouth corner twitched up.
"Go."
"Where to?"
"Draw."
"...What?"
He didn't answer, pulled me toward study.
Study spread table full of papers, ink ground ready, brushes placed ready. He pushed me onto chair, stuffed a brush in my hand.
"Draw."
"Draw what?"
"Anything. You not said your hometown have lots fun things?"
I paused. That was long ago casual sentence—some time during dressing change, he said Eastern Palace too boring, I said my hometown have lots fun things. He remembered.
"I can't draw." I said.
"You can."
"How you know?"
"Guess."
I looked at white paper before me, thought long time. Draw what? I picked up brush, drew a pig. Simple sketch, round head, two ears, four legs, one curly tail.
Zhu Houzhao leaned over to look.
"What this?"
"Pig."
"...This is pig?"
"Mm."
He looked at drawing, then looked at me, mouth corner twitched. "Your hometown pigs look like this?"
"My hometown pigs better looking than this. I draw ugly."
He couldn't help laughing. Took that paper, drew one beside it. His pig more like mine—round body, silly expression, even fur drawn out.
"You draw better than me." I said.
"Of course." He handed brush to me. "Draw again."
I drew a rabbit. Still simple sketch, two long ears, one round body. Zhu Houzhao beside watched a while, picked up brush, drew one beside my rabbit. His rabbit furry, eyes bright, a hundred times more like mine.
"You draw is rabbit?" he asked.
"Mm."
"Your hometown rabbits look like this?"
"My hometown rabbits better looking."
He put down brush, looked at me. "Your hometown anything you think better looking."
I didn't speak. He looked at me a while, didn't pursue.
He took a new paper from table, spread before me.
"Draw something else."
I thought, drew a cat. Simple sketch, triangle ears, round eyes, few whiskers. Zhu Houzhao leaned over to look, didn't speak. He drew a cat beside it—squatting by wall, eyes narrowed, tail curled, like dozing.
"This is cat." he said.
"I know."
"You draw what?"
"Also cat."
"Look like mouse."
I picked up brush, added three hairs on cat head. "Now?"
He looked, seriously thought. "Like mouse grew hair."
I threw brush.
He laughed, laughed front to back, tiger teeth all showing. I grabbed that "mouse grew hair" paper, wanted tear it. He grabbed back, held high.
"Give me!"
"No. I keep."
"Keep for what?"
"Later show people."
"You dare—"
He laughed dodged, folded paper tucked in sleeve. I chased him around study circle, didn't catch. He ran fast, I couldn't catch. Finally he stopped, leaned on bookshelf, panting.
"You run so slow." he said.
"You run fast so great?"
"Mm, great."
I glared at him. He laughed, took that paper from sleeve, looked, tucked back.
"Draw good." he said.
"You just not said like mouse?"
"Like mouse cat, also good."
I didn't speak.
He picked up brush from table, spread new paper. "You say something else."
I thought. "You draw Zhong Kui."
"Zhong Kui?"
"Mm. Ghost catching one. You can draw?"
He looked at me, mouth corner twitched up. "You watch."
He lifted brush, dipped ink. First stroke, I knew he could draw. Lines very hard, very sharp, not like drawing rabbit so soft. Zhong Kui's eyebrows vertical, eyes round wide, beard exploded, hand holding a sword.
Finished, he put down brush. Paper Zhong Kui staring big eyes, beard curled, imposing.
"Good looking?" he asked.
"Good looking." I said. This truth.
"Better than mine?"
"Better than mine."
He laughed, picked up drawing looked, put down. "Your hometown also have Zhong Kui?"
"Have."
"Look like this?"
"About same."
He nodded, didn't pursue.
I looked at that Zhong Kui he drew, suddenly remembered something.
"You want learn English?"
He paused. "What?"
"English. A very far language."
He looked at me, eyes brightened. "Your hometown language?"
"Mm."
"How say?"
I thought. "'Hello' call 'hello'."
"Ha luo?"
"Right."
"'Thank you'?"
"'Thank you'."
"San ke you?"
I laughed. "About same."
He followed me read few times, tongue not flexible, but learned fast. Reading to fifth time, already decent. His pronunciation different from what I thought, but meaning there.
"'I like you' how say?" he asked.
I paused. "...'I like you'."
"Ai lai ke you?"
"Mm."
He read twice, nodded. "Remembered."
"You remember this for what?"
"In case useful."
He didn't look at me, lowered head continued drawing Zhong Kui. I looked at his side face, thought a while, didn't speak.
Drew till noon, Liu Jin came send food. Zhu Houzhao looked at food box, frowned.
"Again these."
"Your Highness, Imperial Kitchen only these—"
"Fine, put down."
Liu Jin put down food box, retreated. Zhu Houzhao opened lid, looked at dishes inside—steamed fish, stir-fried greens, a bowl of soup, a dish of pickled radish.
"Not tasty?" I asked.
"Tired of eating." He closed lid. "Your hometown eat what?"
"Lots."
"Say one."
I thought. "Stir-fried rice cakes."
"Rice cakes?"
"Mm. Use rice cakes stir-fry, put sauce, sweet salty."
He looked at me, eyes bright. "You can make?"
"...Can a little."
"Then make."
"Now?"
"Now."
He stood up, pulled me out.
Imperial Kitchen chefs seeing Crown Prince came, scared almost kneel. Zhu Houzhao waved hand, let them out. Huge kitchen only left us two.
"Things where?" he asked.
I looked—have rice cakes, have bean paste, have sugar, have scallion, have carrot. Although bean paste not Korean, but can make do.
I rolled up sleeves, started chopping vegetables. Zhu Houzhao stood beside watching.
"You can chop vegetables?"
"Can a little."
"Your hometown girls all can?"
"Mm."
He didn't speak, stood beside watching me chop. Chopping to green onion, eyes started spicy, I rubbed, more spicy. Tears flowed down,糊 (hu) ed face.
Zhu Houzhao looked at me. "You cried?"
"No. Onion spicy."
He leaned over to look at green onion. "This thing so fierce?"
"You try."
He took a piece onion, leaned close smelled, no reaction. Leaned closer, eyes started red. He rubbed eyes, tears flowed down.
"Spicy." he said.
I laughed. "You cry what?"
"No cry. Onion spicy."
We two stood in kitchen, eyes red, face full tears, facing laughed.
Stir-fried rice cakes out pot, color red, steaming. Zhu Houzhao picked a piece, blew, put in mouth.
"How?" I asked.
He chewed twice, didn't speak. Chewed two more times.
"Sweet."
"And?"
"Salty."
"Like?"
He picked another piece. "Okay."
He ate three pieces. Fourth piece, he picked a piece handed to my mouth.
"You taste."
I opened mouth, ate. Taste okay—not as authentic as memory, but in this era, can eat stir-fried rice cakes, already very good.
"Tasty?" he asked.
"Tasty."
He picked another piece, ate himself.
We sat on kitchen steps, one bowl stir-fried rice cakes each, finished. Sunlight shone in courtyard, warm. He put down bowl, took that "cat grew hair" from sleeve, looked.
"This," he said. "I keep."
"You want keep then keep."
He laughed, folded paper tucked back.
"Tomorrow," he said. "Teach me English."
"Good."
"Also make stir-fried rice cakes."
"Good."
"Also draw."
"Good."
He looked at me, sunlight on his face, his eyes very bright.
"Your hometown," he said. "Is everything have?"
I thought. "About same."
"Then why you not go back?"
I paused. He looked at me, didn't pursue. Just picked up bowl, stood up.
"Go," he said. "Go back."
I followed behind. Sunlight stretched his shadow very short, shrunk at feet. I stepped on it, he didn't notice.
He walked front, pace neither fast nor slow. I thought of him saying "ai lai ke you", tongue tied appearance, lowered head, laughed.
(End of Chapter 29)