Kiyomi and Emika crossed the moon bridge over the canal teeming with the energy of merchants on barges shouting their wares and haggling with customers. With their vibrant clothing shining in the high noon sun they resembled shoals of celestial fish.
On the streets the crowd was a river of people flowing past one another and swirling around the stalls amid the occasional toes trodden on. The coquettish women with parasols took wider berths of one another, the others taking care to duck when they strutted their way. The stall holders hollering out their special deals, lovers hands in hands casually browsing, smell of baked goods so heavy that Emika could taste them in her mouth; it was busy for sure with the hustle and bustle of everyone getting ready for the Chrysanthemum Festival.
Kiyomi and Emika slipped out of the crowd and soon reached a garden full of aromatic plants featuring a delightful three-storey pagoda.
Behind those doors, from the sound of bowls hitting saucers to conversations about politics, ranging from discussions of class conflicts and complaints about the royal administration, to the calls of waiters bringing boiled water and sliced melon, all the while some people laughing and chatting without taboos and others sighing and arguing; the renowned Fùchun Teahouse was crowded with elites and ordinary people, and dubious individuals also. The latter used the teahouse as a site to engage in inferior practices—gamblers, robbers, smugglers and other criminals operating their schemes in an atmosphere full of frivolity.
Emika glanced over to see Kiyomi distracted and scanning across the room as if he was looking for something he had lost.
The prince felt disadvantaged thus anxious to avoid any trouble: Big Pie Chu claimed to know him, whereas he had never met him. For the last four months they had only communicated through a pigeon messenger and the finally long awaited face to face meeting was about to take place.
Kiyomi had heard that this world had newly discovered an extraordinary black powder who could create chaos to match the destructive power of the natural elements. The black powder could engulf fortifications with fire before turning the stones into ashes. They called it, Crouching Tiger Trebuchet.
With this powder he could turn the entire Taizong Empire into chaos and exterminate his enemies into a pile of bones.
If he didn't have the hatred festering in his heart and the intent to revenge all the innocent souls who died because of his name, he wouldn't have lived. However, until now, his heart was nothing but listless and hollowed for he feared not to be able to accomplish anything at all to fulfil his promise of avenging the family of his loyal companions Jian and Li Ji, and of getting his revenge for his parent's deaths.
But how would Big Pie Chu made contact with him?
A waiter clad in white accosted them—he was a caricature of bubbly friendliness. After bowing with respect, the obsequious waiter escorted them toward the winding staircase leading to the ostentatious top floor.
The higher they climbed the cleaner and more refined it became. The customers at the top floor dressed in long silk and brocade gowns would fan themselves and sip tea smiling with decorum and savouring traditional delicacies.
At the base of the stairs the waiter paused. "My Lord," he bowed one time too many, "we have a special menu to celebrate today's festivities. Would you like to hear it?" But the words which followed were interrupted by a sudden yell from the back of the crowd of customers waiting to be served. This loud voice immediately snagged their attention and they turned to see someone moving in their direction with an awkward gait and a belly pushing open the folds of his robe. Kiyomi stared his way. Big Pie Chu?
The man before them had chubby cheeks sitting either side of his mouth and blending right into his neck. Kiyomi wondered: 'How does one greet a criminal while keeping a low profile? When should I join him? Should I wait for him to give me a signal? Would I easily comprehend his signal?'
The chubby man gnarled face showed total contempt to Kiyomi and Emika and turned to the waiter spewing out his indignation: "When the cranes come you forget the chickens! Two incense sticks later and we are still waiting for our food to be served!" Then he pompously handed two copper coins to the waiter who appeared to have frozen momentarily. "Go fetch our order!"
Emika was trying not to stare at his nose but she kept finding her eyes had diverted to it. That man's nose was drawn by a drunk and lazy artist who ran out of ink before finishing his portrait. It was odd to see something that shape covered in real skin.
His bad mood aggravated by the young woman clear-cut stare and her ill-mannered chortle. It impressed at once the man with an even stronger unfavourable opinion of the upper class; so that he expressed his dislike of the noble woman with harsh words.
After he had assaulted her with insulting words Emika drew back behind Kiyomi's tallness as he simultaneously gave the man a look that caused him to step back.
Following this, Kiyomi realised that it may looked flaunty but he gave two silver coins to the waiter who put back on his merry manner at once.
"Take us upstairs to our table and give this man your best wine."
"Yes my Lord." And the waiter gave a fancy bow.
Saying those words the prince matched the chubby man's stare with his own glower. He radiated harnessed power that didn't allow a response. Defeated, the big man made his way back to his table.
Kiyomi would soon find out that as a consequence of his act of chivalry he had made a dangerous enemy not to be trifled with.