The midday sun dappled the quiet courtyard behind the maids' quarters, filtering through the long, swaying branches of the ancient willow tree. It was a secluded spot, far from the palace's frantic preparations, where Hui-lan often stole away for a breath of calm. Today, she had invited Yelan to share lunch, laying out a simple woven mat beneath the shade. The air hummed with the soft buzz of bees and carried the growing scent of flowers from the gardens—tomorrow's Seasonal Flowering Festival was already transforming the palace into a fragrant wonderland.
Hui-lan unpacked the bamboo basket with a gentle smile. "Come sit, mago. I've brought a little feast to brighten the day." She arranged the dishes on small, elegant plates: tender steamed lotus root filled with minced pork and a touch of ginger, glazed lightly with soy; a warm bowl of chicken broth infused with sweet goji berries and red dates, its aroma soothing and earthy; crisp cucumber salad dressed in sesame oil and sprinkled with crushed peanuts; and delicate mooncakes stuffed with smooth red bean paste, their surfaces etched with lotus patterns. In the center, she set a pot of freshly brewed jasmine tea, the leaves blooming lazily in the hot water.
Yelan settled across from her, folding her legs neatly under her pale robe. Her dark hair was pulled back in a simple knot, and she gazed at the spread with quiet gratitude. "Thank you, obasama. This all looks so thoughtful. You really didn't need to prepare so much."
Hui-lan dismissed the thanks with a warm wave. "It's nothing, mago. With the festival tomorrow, the palace is alive with activity—and scents! Flowers everywhere, bursting open as if they've been waiting all year. A shared meal like this helps us remember the simple joys." She poured the tea, handing Yelan a steaming cup first. The floral notes rose gently, mingling with the courtyard's natural perfume.
They ate at a leisurely pace, the distant sounds of palace life fading into a soft murmur. Hui-lan used her chopsticks to place a slice of lotus root on Yelan's plate. "Start with this. The kitchen made it just right—balanced, with that subtle ginger warmth. It's good for the spirit, especially with all the festival excitement tiring everyone out."
Yelan took a small bite, savoring the tender crunch. "It's perfect, obasama. The flavors blend so well." She sipped her tea, letting the conversation drift naturally as she gathered her thoughts. The festival's fragrances provided the perfect opening—she needed information, but subtly, without revealing her deeper purpose. Her arrival in this world, pulled from her old life into this beloved story, remained a mystery even to her. She had to probe carefully, like testing the petals of a closed bloom.
As they enjoyed the broth, Yelan glanced at the willow's drooping branches, which rustled like whispers in the breeze. "Obasama, with the festival coming and all these flowers filling the air... it makes me wonder. Do you think flowers have their own kind of life? Like... spirits or something hidden inside them, watching over things?"
Hui-lan paused mid-sip, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Spirits in flowers? What an imaginative thought, mago. The elders tell stories like that—about how certain blooms hold secrets or guardians, especially those that open only under the moon or in hidden places. Why do you ask? Has the palace's fragrance stirred up old tales in your mind?"
Yelan nodded lightly, keeping her tone casual. "A little. It's just... the way scents can change everything, make the world feel alive in a different way. Do those spirits ever... appear? Or help people, maybe?"
Hui-lan chuckled softly, setting her cup down. "Ah, the curiosity of the young! Legends say some do, to those who need it most—offering a bit of guidance or relief from worries. But they're fleeting, like a dream at dawn. The festival always brings out such wonderings, with petals everywhere and fragrances weaving through the halls. It's a time when the ordinary feels magical."
Yelan smiled faintly, absorbing the hints without pressing further. It was enough for now—a thread to follow later. The conversation flowed easily to the festival's preparations: the grand displays of seasonal blooms, the ceremonies under lantern light, the way the palace seemed to breathe with life.
As they finished the mooncakes, Yelan reached into the small pouch at her side. "Obasama, I brought something for you as well." She pulled out a neatly wrapped bundle, tied with a thin silk cord, and offered it with both hands.
Hui-lan tilted her head, surprised. "What is this, mago? You shouldn't have."
Yelan unwrapped it gently, revealing a cluster of delicate white jasmine flowers, fresh and dewy, alongside a small pouch of dried mugwort leaves. "It's for your back pain.Brew the mugwort into a tea—steep a handful in hot water for ten minutes, twice a day—or crush the leaves and mix them with oil for a warm compress on the sore spots. The jasmine can be added to your bath; its scent will ease the tension while the flowers infuse the water."
Hui-lan's eyes widened in shock, her chopsticks clattering softly against the plate. "My... back pain? How did you know about that? I haven't mentioned it to anyone."
Yelan met her gaze calmly. "By your scent, obasama. It's faint, but there's a subtle shift—like a mix of fatigue and strain lingering in the air around you."
Hui-lan stared, her mouth slightly open. This was the fifth time—the fifth!—she'd heard Yelan speak of knowing things through scent alone. First in the storage room three days ago, when Yelan had identified spoiled herbs without touching them. Then yesterday in the Preparation Hall, pinpointing an uneven incense blend from across the room. And now this? It was uncanny, almost otherworldly. I should inform Gaoshun-sama about this, Hui-lan thought inwardly, a flicker of concern crossing her mind. Such a gift... or is it something more? He would know what to do.
Outwardly, she composed herself with a warm smile. "You're full of surprises, mago. Thank you—this means a great deal. I'll try it tonight." She accepted the bundle, tucking it carefully into her basket.
Yelan simply nodded, her expression serene. "I'm glad to help, obasama."
They lingered a while longer, chatting about lighter matters—the festival's dances, the colorful lanterns that would light the night. As the sun shifted higher, Hui-lan began packing the dishes. "That was lovely, mago. You make these moments special."
Yelan helped fold the mat, standing gracefully. "Thank you for inviting me, obasama. It was peaceful."
Hui-lan gave her a quick, affectionate hug. "Anytime. Now, off to your duties—but rest if you need it. The festival will keep us all busy tomorrow."
As Yelan walked away, the willow branches swayed behind her, carrying a whisper of jasmine on the wind. Hui-lan watched her go, the bundle in her hand feeling heavier with unspoken questions. The palace's fragrances grew stronger by the hour, but some scents, it seemed, held deeper secrets.