Chapter 2

XIAN

Philosophers taught that heaven was round and the earth was square. As an homage, Leifeng Pagoda had a square base anchored

to the ground and octagonal sides that appeared round when viewed from above. Whenever the evening sky was clear, people would

gather on the Broken Bridge on the opposite shore to admire the sunset glowing behind the tower's vermilion brick walls. Its

overhanging roof, five stories high, was covered with terra-cotta tiles glazed black, which was supposed to inspire the gods

to descend to the earth. Bronze chimes hung from its wide eaves, tinkling in the wind; seen from the ground, its steeple appeared

to pierce the clouds. People believed that a lightning strike to the iron spire could destroy demons.

Xian reined in his horse, dismounted close to the steps leading to the pagoda entrance, and dropped the wriggling snake in its bag to the ground. He had spent the entire afternoon preparing the delegation to Changle and requisitioning gold, jade, precious metals, and silk from the treasury. Royals often lavished gifts upon vassal states to emphasize their status as benefactors. Min was the newest vassal state of the kingdom of Wuyue; threatened by Southern Tang, the Min court had capitulated to its stronger ally in the north in exchange for protection.

Xian halted on the edge of the West Lake. Orioles warbled from the willows along the shore, and in the middle of the lake,

three islands glimmered in the setting sun.

The smallest, Ruangong Islet, was where General Jian had found ten-year-old Xian, soaked and shivering after the battle with

the mercenaries. Xian had clammed up whenever anyone tried to find out how he'd ended up there. People quickly stopped asking,

afraid that talking about the ordeal would traumatize the young prince further.

Miè zú —execution of a criminal's family to nine levels of kinship—was reserved for the worst crimes. Kidnapping a prince was one

of them. The severed heads of the two court officials who had been forced by the mercenaries to smuggle Xian out of the palace

to pay off their gambling debts were hung from the outer wall. But Xian's mother had pleaded on behalf of the condemned men's

relatives, and his father spared their lives. He built an altar on Ruangong Islet to thank the gods for bringing his son safely

out of the belly of the lake.

Only Xian knew the truth—what had saved him was no god.

No one knew he had fallen into the lake with the pearl in his hand, not even Feng. No one knew he had awakened on the islet, too frozen to react as the cure for his mother's illness was swallowed right before his eyes by a large white snake.

The snake must've been attracted to the power of the pearl. It might even have been the same cursed creature that had bitten

his mother in the first place. It dragged Xian out of the lake, not to save his life but to steal from him something almost

as precious. Why it hadn't strangled him after taking the pearl, he didn't know.

But that was a decision the snake would live to regret.

Xian's horse nudged his shoulder, asking for a treat. Ferghanas, slender and imposing, were the most prized horses in the

land. Some believed they descended from the line of tiān m? —mythical steeds that carried their riders into the land of the immortals.

"Hungry, Zhaoye?" Xian stroked his horse's lustrous black mane and coat. Zhaoye—meaning "shining night"—was a fitting name

for him. "Want some fruit?" Zhaoye's ears pricked up. Perhaps horses from the bloodline of celestial steeds could understand

language. "All right. Let me see if I can get some for you."

Xian found an apricot tree amid the blooming peonies, and a ripe fruit hanging from an outer branch came off with a slight

twist. He took a dagger from his ankle sheath, cut the apricot in half, and dug out the kernel in the center before giving

the slices to Zhaoye.

An approaching beat of hooves made him turn.

"Truly a sight to behold." Fahai rode up on his bay horse, a smile playing on his mouth as he dismounted. "A prince serving fruit to his horse."

Xian glared at the court adviser. "Don't try to pretend nothing happened. After all this time we've been searching for a cure,

don't you think I deserve to know that my mother's condition is deteriorating?"

Fahai sobered. "Your father made me swear not to tell you. I could not disobey his command... not even for you, Prince

Xian. I'm sorry."

Xian forced down the lump in his throat. "How much time does my mother have?"

"Her physicians said three months, maybe a little longer."

Three months? The words cleaved Xian's chest like his dagger had sliced open the apricot earlier. Would she be able to enjoy

mooncakes under the harvest moon at this year's Mid-Autumn Festival, her favorite celebration?

Fahai put a hand on his shoulder as if sensing his anguish. "Don't give up hope, Prince Xian."

Xian pulled himself together. "I captured a copperhead with unusual white markings."

Fahai nodded. "Let's speak inside."

The base of Leifeng Pagoda was built on a double-layered stone pedestal, which hinted that as much of the structure existed

belowground as it did above. Xian picked up the snake bag, and he and Fahai walked around the base platform to a nondescript

iron door at the back of the pagoda.

Fahai took a key from his fish pouch and inserted it in the lock. The lock clicked and the door swung open, exhaling a breath of musty air. Fahai gestured for Xian to go first.

Xian descended the smooth stone steps into a familiar underground basement. Behind him, Fahai lit the lamps on the wall sconces,

illuminating the space. A wooden worktable laden with cylindrical brass vessels of different sizes stood in the center. On

a bench was a jumble of scrolls filled with formulas and calculations in Fahai's handwriting. Several bookcases lined the

far wall, their shelves sagging with thick alchemical texts. A sack of coal and a pair of wooden bellows lay next to a fireplace

connected to a chimney.

This was the secret underground laboratory where Fahai had been working tirelessly for the past three years to carry out the

king's order: find a cure for his beloved consort.

At the opposite end of the room, two dozen cages of wood and bamboo were stacked on top of one another halfway to the ceiling.

Their occupants coiled and uncoiled, glossy scales gleaming in the lamplight.

Fahai had asked Xian to bring him different types of snakes so he could study their venom. Some of Fahai's tonics and poultices

had given Xian's mother a measure of relief from the symptoms, but so far, they had been unable to heal her. And now she was...

Xian turned to Fahai. "The cure is in Changle. What do you think we'll find when we arrive? A magical spring deep in the forests of Min? A rare healing plant that only grows there? Or maybe a sage or shaman with the power to cure my mother?"

Fahai's eyes glinted. "I think the oracle is leading us to Changle to find the final piece we've been searching for all this

time."

"What do you mean?"

"After three years of experimentation, I believe I've finally determined the precise alchemy for an antidote," Fahai replied.

"But we're still missing one crucial ingredient for your mother's cure."

A prickle rose across Xian's skin. "The white snake?"

Sand boas, pit vipers, coral snakes, pythons, copperheads, even cobras—Xian had hunted them all. But in the past seven years,

he had never found another white snake. It wasn't inconceivable that the white snake had left the West Lake after it took

the pearl from him. Maybe it had escaped into the nearby Zhe Jiang, the longest river on the southeastern coast, which meant

it could be anywhere by now.

Fahai didn't know any of this, of course—no one did. Xian had never told a soul about the white snake or the pearl. And each

time they tried and failed to heal his mother, no one knew the guilt that gnawed at him like a parasite sucking his marrow

dry.

"I am still unsure exactly what part of the white snake will complete the antidote, whether it's its venom, organs, or perhaps

even its beating heart," Fahai replied. "So we will not only have to find the snake, but also bring it back to this laboratory

alive."

Anticipation twisted in Xian's stomach. The oracle had told them where to find the cure—the white snake itself. The balance of fate had decreed that the snake's life would be the key to saving his mother. Xian would finally have the chance to face the creature once more—and this time, he would capture it and bring it back to Wuyue.

A large open receptacle on a low stool in the corner, apart from the cages, caught Xian's attention. He didn't remember seeing

it the last time he was there. He walked over; inside the ceramic vessel was a tortoise with golden star-shaped patterns on

its domed carapace.

"What's this?" Xian asked. "You got a pet without telling me?"

Fahai smiled. "I found it a few days ago while I was taking an evening stroll around the lake. It had gotten into an unfortunate

scuffle with a heron and its hind leg was bleeding. I brought it back here to recuperate."

Fahai came over to Xian's side. He took some leafy vegetables from his pocket and offered them to the tortoise, which raised

its wrinkled head and eagerly munched the fresh greens from his hand.

"Are those from the palace kitchen?" Xian couldn't suppress his amusement. "A court adviser handpicking vegetables for a tortoise

that's lucky to have escaped being a delicacy itself?"

Fahai chuckled. "I must admit I spoil it terribly. How barbaric to butcher such gentle creatures for their meat and beautiful

shells. Dr. Ping from the infirmary keeps freshwater turtles as a hobby, and he has volunteered to take care of it while we're

away."

Xian's eyes cut to the cages of wood and bamboo. "What about these? Will they last until we return?"

"Snakes can survive up to a year without food," Fahai replied.

Xian turned to him. "Thank you for working so hard to find a cure for my mother. My father doesn't trust people unless he

has known them for many years, but I can see why he made you his adviser after knowing you for only a relatively short while."

"With time and patience, the mulberry leaf becomes a silk gown," Fahai said solemnly. "The years have been long, but we have

not stopped trying. I hope, in this Year of the Snake, we will find what we've been seeking."