The Apothecary Diaries - Volume 10 - Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Spring Comes to Basen (Part 2)

He’d thought of the young woman as like a little flower, gossamer and delicate. He’d been afraid she might break if he touched her.

Now, as Basen rode along on his horse, he looked at the side of the road, where a small blue flower was blooming. He had always thought of flowers as things to be cherished and loved, but he saw now that they grew on their own, with or without anyone to dote upon them.

He turned toward the farming village, his breath white in the air. A wagon loaded with ducks in cages clattered along beside him. When the eggs had hatched, he had raised the ducklings until they were big enough, and now he would take them to the villages. How many times had he done this now?

“Distributing ducks is beneath you, sir,” a soldier said.

This wasn’t the first time one of his subordinates had objected to his going on these trips. They might even think it was a waste—as the Moon Prince had warned him they might. Basen was well aware of how they felt. “I’ve been given a job, and I’m going to do it. If you don’t like this assignment, perhaps I can find you another one.”

“N-No, sir,” the soldier said, and neither he nor the others spoke up again—though they continued to share rueful looks. Even Basen, oblivious as he could be, could imagine what they said about him behind his back. He was the pampered second son of the Ma clan. The upstart from a branch family. Son of a eunuch. And more besides. Yes, his father Gaoshun came from a branch family of the clan—and to serve the Moon Prince, he had cast away the Ma name and spent nearly seven years pretending to be a eunuch.

Basen hated the idea of his father being belittled, but what would it gain him to mete out punishment here? The Ma clan were confidants of the Imperial family, and he would only be accused of abusing his position.

Basen had made the mistake of becoming emotional more than once before. On one occasion, an older soldier in his division had complained that he wasn’t being treated as well as Basen and claimed the younger man was being shown favoritism. Basen had lost his temper and fought the man in a “practice match” that was hardly less than a duel.

His opponent had ended up with three broken ribs and a broken right arm. Thankfully, none of the ribs had pierced a lung, and the arm had snapped cleanly and would heal. Nonetheless, the man had left the army. Perhaps he was humiliated by having been beaten by the younger, less experienced Basen—or perhaps he had simply never engaged in training fierce enough to break bones.

The Moon Prince was never less than committed, even when training. He could deflect Basen’s sword strokes with his blade. And Gaoshun, he would strike back mercilessly whenever he saw an opening in Basen’s guard. When Basen had been younger, even his older sister had been better at swordsmanship than him. He was physically strong, but never thought of himself as much of a swordsman. He had been good enough, though, to bring down that soldier, who had been very proud of his own strength.

He’d already known at that point that he had to be careful how much of his strength he used when dealing with women—but on that day he learned the same was true when he was facing men. He discovered his opponents were quite breakable. He never forgot the lesson: no matter what might be said to or of him, he must never be too eager to react with force.

“I can’t go around thrashing people...and I’d thrash them in a second,” he muttered to himself as he took a duck off the wagon and handed it to a farmer, along with a stern warning not to kill the animal. “We’re giving you these ducks as a pair. We’ll buy the eggs at a high price, and we recommend you breed more ducks too, but immediately killing them for food would be a mistake. You hear me?”

Some of these farmers already kept ducks, or had in the past, so thankfully Basen didn’t have to teach all of them how to raise the animals from scratch. He made sure they knew that the ducks would eat bugs and that this should be their primary diet, but also that if there weren’t enough of them, the ducks could eat leftovers, vegetable scraps, or even grass.

He could give the people all the warnings and advice he liked, but he had no way of knowing if they would listen. They might have thought he was something of a quack himself.

Just when he had made the rounds of the villages and thought he was done passing out animals, he heard a noisy quacking from the wagon. He discovered one young fledgling was still with him.

“Skwak!”

“You again, Jofu?” Basen gave the fledgling a look of annoyance. This particular bird had a black spot on her beak and seemed to think Basen was her mother, a profound mistake if there ever was one. Evidently this duck had hatched on the day of his reunion with Lishu, and Basen happened to be the first thing she saw. She followed him everywhere he went whenever he showed up at Red Plum Village, so he took to calling her Jofu, as if that were her name—although it really just meant “duck.”

Now he said to the duck, “You know what has to happen, right, Jofu? You’re going to go to some farm village, where you’ll be able to deal a crushing blow to those awful locusts! You can’t follow me around forever. Now’s your chance to build up the body a good soldier needs. Eat grains, eat grass, eat insects, and grow big!”

“Peep!” Jofu said and spread her wings. She almost appeared to be listening to him, but a duck is, well, a duck. Eventually, she would forget she had ever known Basen.

Or so he’d assumed. As he continued to take his young birds to the farming villages and then raise another group of chicks, Jofu was always with him, never staying behind in the villages. Basen and Jofu went out together and, inevitably, they came back together. More than once Basen tried to leave his fledgling in one of the farming villages, but each time Jofu would bite the farmers and climb onto the head of Basen’s horse, where she would flap her wings to be taken home. Jofu also got a beakful of the hands of several soldiers who tried to manhandle her. It got so bad that some soldiers began referring to the duck as respectfully as any senior officer.

Jofu’s feathers went from yellow to white, but the black spot on her beak remained, as did her tendency to savage strangers like a wild dog while following Basen around like a loyal one.

Today, too, Basen returned with Jofu riding on his shoulder. He would have to go to Red Plum Village to drop the bird off.

“That’s right...” Basen looked to the west, where the sun was setting, turning the sky red. The date had been set for the Moon Prince’s departure for the western capital. Basen’s next visit to Red Plum Village would most likely be his last. He would leave with another crop of ducks and distribute them to more villages on his own way west.

Word was that the westward expedition was likely to be a long one this time. A few months at least, the better part of a year more likely.

“Six months or more,” he mumbled with a sigh. He dismounted his horse as he passed through the gates of Red Plum Village. Being here always put him on edge. His heart raced despite the idyllic scenes of livestock roaming in the fields.

He told his subordinates to take care of the wagon, then headed for the duck shed. He seemed to walk quicker the closer he got.

He couldn’t help looking for Lishu, even though he knew she wasn’t always there when he came. Each time he saw her, so small and so delicate yet standing resolutely on her own two feet, he felt something very strange, a simultaneous rush of relief and anxiety.

And today? Would she be there today?

“M-Master Basen?”

His heart leaped. There was Lishu, in her plain clothes, holding a basket. Jofu jumped down off his shoulder and waddled toward the shed.

Basen pressed a hand to his chest and tried to order his pounding heart to be quiet. “Lady Lishu. I’d like to make my report to you, if I may.” He took out a map and circled the villages he had visited that day. With this, he had canvassed nearly all the frontier farm villages.

Red Plum Village wasn’t the only place raising ducks; there were others as well. The work would have to be able to go on after Basen left.

“It looks like you’ve taken them everywhere they could be needed. What will you do next?” Lishu asked, giving Basen a glance.

“Milady. I plan to take the next group with me and head west. I expect this will be my last visit here.”

Lishu blinked. “What?”

“My official duty is to serve as the Moon Prince’s bodyguard. He’s going to the western capital, so I must go with him.”

“He’s going again?”

The Moon Prince’s journey west had been made public at this point, but the news seemed not to have reached Lishu in her seclusion here. She knew of his first trip to the western capital, though, which had happened about this time last year, when she had still been a consort.

“I remember... That was where I first met you,” Basen said, although it pained him to imagine how he must have seemed to her at the time.

“Met me, and saved me—for the first time, but not the last.”

There had been a banquet at the western capital. A lion brought in for entertainment had attacked Lishu. Basen remembered her cowering under a table. Rumors called her a vile, shameless woman of no chastity, but all he’d seen was a frightened, lonely girl the world had never treated well.

Basen worried how she would get by in the future. Her mother was dead, while her father had only ever seen her as a political pawn—and he had been stripped of his station at the same time Lishu had come to this village.

Would she be all right? That worry had plagued Basen ever since Lishu left the court. Meeting her here had only added to his fears.

“...with me?” He was so lost in thought that he almost didn’t hear the words coming out of his own mouth.

“Wha?”

“Would you consider leaving Red Plum Village with me?” he repeated. Even he didn’t know what he thought he was saying. His face was beet red, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at Lishu.

Lishu, meanwhile, looked studiously at the ground. And was also blushing.

It must be his fault for having said something so outrageous. Might it be possible that time would turn back for him, just a few minutes?

Basen felt his breath grow ragged. “N-Never mind! It was nothing!”

“Nothing?” Lishu gave him a probing look, and the flush in her cheeks began to subside.

“A-Anyway, I have more reports to make! If you’ll excuse me!”

With that, Basen left. He never did look at Lishu’s face.

The moment Basen got home, he shut himself in his room and hung his head. “What am I doing?” he groaned, throwing himself across his desk and alternating between holding his head in his hands and tearing at his hair.

The door opened with a clatter. “What are you doing?”

“Sister?!”

It was Basen’s older sister, Maamei. She was already married, but still living in the main Ma household. Her husband, Basen’s brother-in-law, was of Ma blood himself, and, with Basen’s father, was also responsible for His Majesty’s safety. If it was decided that Basen was not suitable for the family headship, the position would most likely pass to his brother-in-law. Basen, in fact, was perfectly happy to be able to focus his full attention on guarding the Moon Prince, but he couldn’t let that show.

At present, Basen’s grandfather was the nominal head of the family, but in practice most of the work of running the clan was handled by Basen’s mother, Taomei. It was all rather complicated, but in essence the successor from the main household had been disinherited, and Gaoshun had been adopted into the main family from the branch house. Taomei had once been engaged to marry the disowned successor and was already well entrenched in the clan’s day-to-day business, so she simply went on and married Basen’s father. Hence why she was six years older than Gaoshun.

Taomei had then taught Maamei the basics of the clan’s dealings, and Basen’s older sister would presumably take Taomei’s place someday. The Ma clan were the bodyguards of the Imperial family, meaning they could die at any time—so the clan took a pragmatic approach to succession. If Basen died, someone else would take his place.

As the Moon Prince’s guard, Basen rarely returned home as such. The unorthodox assignment he’d been given recently, however, meant he saw much more of Maamei, which could be a little awkward.

“What brings you here?” he asked.

“Now, is that any way to speak to a kind older sister who just wants to see how her little brother is doing?”

Basen and Maamei seemed to have very different ideas of what it meant to be kind.

“On that subject, is it just me, or do you sort of...stink?” Maamei very deliberately pinched her nose. This was nothing new to Basen; she had always complained when he smelled sweaty, but these days he suspected it was something else.

“I think that would be the ducks,” he said. Spend enough time with fowl and it was hard not to start smelling like them.

“Ducks? Ahh, yes, one of those anti-locust measures, yes? Do you think it will really help?”

“Sister, we’re groping in the dark here. I’ll thank you not to belittle our efforts.”

“Goodness, pardon me,” she said, although she didn’t seem to feel very guilty. She started looking around Basen’s room.

“Sister, if you don’t need anything, then would you kindly get out?”

“Well! When did you get a tongue like that?” Maamei sat on the bed, evidently disinclined to listen to him. The bed was one of the few pieces of furniture in his chamber; he kept furnishings to a minimum because he trained here as well. “You could stand to have a little more...stuff in here,” Maamei remarked.

“No. It would only get in the way.”

“Hmm. Yes... This is a bachelor’s room if I ever saw one.” His sister’s words were always sharp as any sword.

“What’s a man’s love life got to do with his room?” Basen said with a scowl.

“Everything. Besides, you’re certainly the right age to be thinking about a wife. Don’t you have any good prospects?”

“S-Sister! You can’t just drop that subject on me!” He sprang up from his chair so fast it fell over.

“I might point out that, at least for the time being, you’re expected to become the next head of the clan. Our uncle raised the possibility that you should take a wife at least for form’s sake. There’s no telling when you might die, so it would be nice if you would leave a few children behind.”

“Ch-Ch-Children! But th-that would mean—”

“Ah, yes. Don’t worry, no one is expecting much from you. You know that’s why we had to push Baryou and Chue to pick up the slack. I’d like to see at least three more potential successors, but...maybe that’s asking too much. It’s really not a good look for you, though, sitting back and letting your relatives do all the work. You need a wife, even if only for show. Otherwise no one will take you seriously—that’s Uncle’s assessment.”

“I hear what you’re saying...” The subject made Basen’s head hurt. “You want me to hurry up and get married, don’t you? Just like the others.”

“Not at all!”

“What?” Basen looked at her, at a loss as to what else she could possibly mean.

“I think you’re like me. You couldn’t accept a partner who was chosen for you, the way Mother, Father, and Baryou could. What I’m saying is that if there’s someone you’re in love with, now would be the time to say so, before Uncle or someone decides for you.”

“In l-l-love with?!”

“I knew it! I’ll take that as a yes.” She gave him a very unpleasant smirk.

“I’m s-sorry, S-Sister, but I don’t know what you mean...”

“No, of course you don’t. You don’t have to say it; it’s written all over your face.”

Basen unconsciously put his hands to his cheeks and discovered they were warm.

Maamei stretched out on the bed. “I didn’t come here today just to tease you.”

Basen stayed silent. Maamei smirked even harder.

“As I said, neither Mother, nor Father, nor Baryou chose their own partners. There’s nothing wrong with that, but they happen to be the kind who can cope with whomever they end up with. Not me. I could never abide someone my parents or family picked for me. So I never gave them the chance—I decided for myself!”

Basen thought of Maamei’s husband: he was twelve years older than her. Basen remembered her saying she would marry him when she was only eight years old. Everyone had had a good chuckle, but eight years later, her pronouncement had come true.

Every time he met his brother-in-law, Basen felt like a failure.

Maamei pointed squarely at him. “You and I are the same. We could never consent to political marriages.”

“I-I’d like to think—”

“If you agreed to such a match, it would always remain a sham. Mother and Father gradually learned to love each other, and Baryou and Chue have found their places in their relationship, but you wouldn’t be able to do either of those things. Even if you could accept the situation, I tell you, your wife would never be happy.”

“I... I think...”

He found he couldn’t contradict her outright. He was sure that whomever his family might choose as his wife, she wouldn’t be a bad person. Likewise, he was confident that he would come to care for her.

In the back of his mind, though, there floated an image of a girl like a flower on the roadside.

“There. You just thought of someone, didn’t you?”

“I—I did not!” he exclaimed, flushing bright red. Maamei’s smile got wider.

“Not that it matters to me, but let me give you some sisterly advice. If there’s someone you have feelings for, you need to tell her. If she rejects you, so be it—at least you’ll know where you stand. I know you, and without that, you’d spend your entire life pining for her.”

Basen was silent: this, too, he could not deny.

“You might have nothing but brute strength to recommend you, you might be a damned fool who always goes charging in—but you’re still my little brother. Make your choice, and make it like you mean it.”

“You never said anything like that to Baryou...”

“Baryou has committed to his choices in his own way, you know.”

Basen didn’t really understand what that meant.

Maamei, looking like she felt lighter now that she had said what she came to say, got up from the bed. “I’ll be going, then.”

Basen’s mouth moved, but no words came out as his sister went to leave the room.

Then she turned. “Ah. One other thing I’d like to be sure of.”

“Yes? What?”

“She’s not married, is she?”

Basen froze in place but looked away. “No! Well... Not anymore!”

“What?” Maamei replied, with a theatricality that drove Basen up the wall.

The ducks surrounded Basen, quacking noisily. Jofu, still with the black spot on her beak, was there with him. Jofu was noticeably bigger than the other birds—she alone had remained with him as the other ducks had gone one by one to the farming villages.

Basen was wearing a brand-new outfit. Perhaps it would have been just as well to choose something well-worn, since it was only going to get dirty anyway, but new clothes were a chance to reset and refresh himself.

Jofu led Basen along, shaking her tail. She knew where he was going.

Steam rose from the hatchery, warmed as ever by the hot springs and the fire in the oven. By Basen’s request, they were hatching several times as many ducks as before.

Basen braced himself as someone emerged from the shed. He thought it might have been Lishu, but after a second he realized his mistake. It was one of the other wayfarers responsible for the hatchery, a middle-aged woman he’d met several times before.

“Master Basen! Everything is ready,” she said. She had cages, each quacking with a duck. “I was told this would be your last visit. I do hope you’ll take good care of these sweeties.” She bowed deeply to him. Some of the wayfarers were just researchers, but others treated the ducks like their own children. Basen had faith that a nun who felt love even for waterfowl would never mistreat Lishu.

With all respect and apologies to the nun, however, there was just one thing on Basen’s mind: disappointment. He’d told Lishu his next visit would be his last, but he hadn’t said when he would be coming. Anyway, she wasn’t under any obligation to match his schedule.

He clenched his fists. Despondent at his own ineptitude, he took the cages and put them on the wagon. The driver of the wagon pitched in, and the three of them loaded the cages. Jofu had wandered off, evidently tired of the scene.

“I must apologize to you for being on duty today,” the nun said.

“I-I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, ma’am!” Basen said.

“Hee hee! I’m sure you would much rather be passing the time with a sweet young thing like Lishu than a ripe old auntie like me. Although it can be tricky to hold a conversation with that girl—she’s not the world’s best talker.”

“H-Heavens!”

“You know, you sound a lot like her.” The nun laughed out loud, but there was a refinement to it; it spoke to the upbringing she must have had before she became a wayfarer. “Lishu is, well, timid. If I were a bit younger, it’s the sort of thing that might have annoyed me.”

“What?”

“Now all I feel is sympathy—she reminds me of myself when I was her age!” The nun patted the ducks in the cages. “No one gives her any trouble, of course. Other than a few strange ones who like this kind of lifestyle, most of us who come to Red Plum Village have our stories. I left the profane world more than twenty years ago now, so I have no idea who or what Lishu might be. And no interest in finding out. I just wish she would stop tripping and breaking the eggs!” The nun put a cage on the wagon. “There, that’s the last one. Where are these ducks going to end up, I wonder?”

“We’re going west,” Basen said. He would head overland toward the western capital, distributing the ducks as he went.

“Well, have a safe trip,” the nun said to the birds. “Eat lots of bugs, lay plenty of good eggs, and live as long as you can.”

The ducks quacked at the nun almost as if in response. She knew that if they couldn’t make themselves useful, they would be turned into dinner. Basen couldn’t ask the farmers to raise pets.

Basen found himself wondering who this woman was and why she had come to Red Plum Village, but he didn’t ask. He could only assume she, too, had a story of her own.

“Quack!” Jofu quacked, pecking at Basen’s toes.

“What is it? Where have you been?” Basen asked. In response, the duck grabbed a beakful of his robe and pulled.

“Looks like she wants to take you somewhere. Why not go see where? I’ll handle the rest here.”

“Are you sure?” Basen glanced at the driver, who nodded.

Jofu loped ahead of Basen, flapping her wings and looking back occasionally to make sure he was still following. Ducks were evidently smarter than he had given them credit for.

Jofu led him to a small lake, a place edged with green among the otherwise desolate scenery. A young woman in white sat by the lakeside.

“Lady Lishu?” Basen said, and the young woman looked up. She was holding a blade of young grass.

“Master Basen!” Lishu was so surprised to see him that she dropped the grass. Jofu promptly started pecking at it—it seemed to be a favorite duck snack. “Is today your last visit, then?”

Confronted with Lishu, whom he had given up hope of seeing, Basen froze. He was overjoyed to see her, but he had no idea how to talk to her. And after all the practice he had done last night!

“Lady Lishu!” he said.

“Yes?”

“W-Wonderful weather we’re having, isn’t it!”

“Er, i-it is?” Lishu looked confused. The sky was cloudy, and though it wasn’t raining, neither was it sunny and cheerful.

Lishu was no more sure what to say than Basen. For a moment, silence reigned between them. Jofu stood smack between the two and looked from one to the other.

“U-Um!” By coincidence, they spoke at the exact same time.

“G-Go ahead, Lady Lishu.”

“Wha? No, please speak first, Master Basen.”

Once again neither of them said anything. The situation remained at an impasse, although Jofu continued to peck at the grass.

Basen balled up his fists, gritted his teeth, furrowed his brow, and finally managed to open his mouth. “Lady Lishu. Would you do me the honor of coming to the western capital with me?”

His clothes, the ones he’d picked out fresh, were filthy from loading ducks onto the wagon. He had nothing in his hands to offer—not a fancy accessory, not even a flower. Maamei hadn’t demanded to know who exactly he had feelings for—but if she had seen him like this, she would never have let him live it down. Still, for this one act, she would have had praise.

Basen would ask the Emperor and the Moon Prince. He knew the Emperor was concerned about Lishu. He would go to him, spirit earnest, head bowed.

Basen’s heart was pounding in his chest. His breath was harsh, fogging in the air in front of him. He could barely bring himself to look at Lishu for fear of how she might have been regarding him. When he did, though, he found her red-faced and biting her lip. She held up her skirts with grass-stained fingers.

“Lady Lishu?” he said.

“Master Basen...” Lishu finally managed to open her mouth, but her eyes brimmed with tears and she sniffled as she spoke. “I... I c-c-can’t go with you!”

“What do you mean, you can’t?” Basen asked, trying hard not to let his face fall. He’d been well aware that she might turn him down. He’d practically been begging for it, springing that question on her like he had.

Lishu was trying as hard as he was to hide her emotions, and meeting with the same mixed success. Tears gathered in her eyes, and her mouth was tight. She was clenching her fists so hard her nails bit into her palms.

Maamei had told him to tell her. To make clear how he felt. Maybe that had been a mistake. Basen’s actions had only brought Lishu more pain.

“Lady Lishu, please just—”

He was about to say forget what I said, but she burst out:

“I w-wish I could! I wish I could go with you!” She looked him square in the face, just managing to hold back her tears. “B-But now, I know all too well. I’m a foolish girl who knows nothing of the world, and someone will try to use me no matter where I go. I know they were trying to keep me safe by sending me here to Red Plum Village.”

Basen knew it was true: all the inhabitants of Red Plum Village were eccentrics loosed from the fetters of the secular world. Many of them weren’t even that interested in other people, so they wouldn’t torment Lishu, or try to use her for their own ends as her father had.

“If I were to go with you to the western capital, Master Basen, I would only be a burden to you.”

“Lady Lishu, no...”

“Do your duty for Ji—I mean, the Moon Prince, Master Basen. I’d only be baggage. I’ve come to have some idea of how people see me.” The tears continued to gather in Lishu’s eyes as she looked up at Basen, but they didn’t fall. She blinked furiously, holding them back. “What you said when you caught me—it gave me the strength to go on. To this day, it holds me up.”

Jofu nuzzled Lishu’s feet, worried about her. Lishu patted the duck on the head. She looked down, and then when she looked up again there were no more tears in her eyes.

“I am not just a tool. I want to learn to think for myself and choose my own path.”

Basen thought he caught the hint of a spark in Lishu’s eyes. It was still weak and dim, but he saw the determination to make it burn brighter.

“I know there are many people who care for me. Kanan and my lady-in-waiting, His Majesty and Lady Ah-Duo. The Moon Prince. And you, Master Basen. Along with many others. But I’ve been so caught up in my own misfortune that I’ve never so much as thanked you.”

Lishu was as delicate and ephemeral as a flower. How could she be expected to worry about anyone but herself?

“You can’t blame yourself for that. Anyone in your position would have done the same...”

“Don’t baby me. Please. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, such as I can, and this is my choice. If I told myself that I couldn’t have done differently, that anyone would have done the same thing—wouldn’t that be a slap in your face as well, Master Basen?”

Basen’s breath caught in his throat. Guarding the Imperial family meant putting his life on the line—not something he could readily do while also trying to keep Lishu safe.

“I can’t go to the western capital,” Lishu said, giving Jofu a pat on the head. “But...maybe, once I’ve gained a little more confidence in myself...” Here she glanced away from him again. “Maybe you could come back to Red Plum Village?”

Her face was red. She looked like there was more she wanted to say, but nothing came.

Basen was blushing as hard as she was; his mouth hung open, but he couldn’t seem to say anything either. As what Lishu was saying dawned on him, he felt the blood run hot with excitement. “A-Absolutely!” he said.

Without quite meaning to, he pitched forward; Jofu squawked and scrambled out of the way.

“When I see you again, I promise I’ll be a more worthy man. You said you would only be extra weight, but I can easily lift one or two hundred kin! If you still worry that won’t be enough, I’ll keep working until I can lift two—no, three times that much!”

He would work so that Lishu need never fear that she was merely “baggage.” So that she would know he wouldn’t stagger no matter how hard she leaned against him.

The surface of the lake rippled softly, catching the light. Jofu pecked at the grass along the bank, where there were small buds amid the stalks.

Spring would be here soon, but winter’s chill had not yet departed. Lishu was in her own winter now. But though she be trampled, though she be picked, though she be pecked at, she was trying to put forth a beautiful blossom. It was not for Basen to interfere. He would simply wait, anticipating the spring day when that flower would bloom.

He would do what he had to do until the day he could go to that flower.

“I’m going to the western capital, but I’ll be back. I’ll protect the Moon Prince, help protect this nation, and I will protect you. I’ll grow into a man who can support anyone and anything who needs him.”

Lishu smiled. “I know you will. I only pray for your success and safety.”

Was it just him, or was there an aroma of flowers in the air? Strange; none of the buds among the grass seemed to be open yet.

There was only Lishu, with a smile on her face that looked like the first hint of spring.