Sharing a Pavilion With You
Chapter 102: Delicate Apricots

Chapter 102: Delicate Apricots

The first whistle of a firework shooting into the night sky was heard, and it exploded into a thousand beautiful tiny yellow-white lights, that dropped through the inky black, like so many shooting stars.

Meili, Sofya and Lingling looked at the sky, transfixed by the beautiful display of light.

The Second Prince surreptitiously watched Mei Meili, the open joy on her face twisting at his heart, until it pained him.

Tan Bowen’s display was achingly beautiful to Meili. All of the colours of the rainbow bloomed in the sky like flowers of light. Yellow faded into white, a green firework was chased by a pale pink, so that the two overlapped like a giant chrysanthemum.

The Second Prince found himself unable to look away, as the different coloured lights reflected on her face, her bright eyes aglow, her porcelain skin taking on the colours from the sky, like she was a rainbow fairy come to sit among them.

When he thought how close he had come to losing her in that dark lake, the answering stab of fear frightened him.

He was gripped by melancholy. It seemed more and more likely he would have to agree to marry Li Fengfeng, and he feared he would lose Mei Meili in the process.

The more inevitable this outcome seemed, the tighter he wanted to hold onto her.

A stubborn desire to own her at all costs settled in his chest like a stone.

Oh, pretty self-deception! he thought. It somehow blinded you to the cost and gave you an unerring focus on the goal...

Mei Renlong glanced behind him at Sofya. Her deep brown eyes glinted with the silver sparkles Tan Bowen had added to this firework. Her golden earrings twinkled and swayed as she gasped in delight, her deep brown hair falling softly about her face, her full lips slightly parted in wonder.

He always knew he could never have her, but he quietly committed that beautiful picture to his memory. It was bittersweet, like the final dismantling of his childish dreams that had been taken from him, brick by brick.

The display ended with Tan Bowen emerging from behind the screen, a blazing bamboo-encased firework in each of his hands.

The crowd let out a collective gasp at the dangerous sight of a man so close to explosive gunpowder, and Tan Bowen gave a theatrical swirl, with a mysterious smile.

There was a large loud round of applause from his audience.

All of a sudden, one of the fireworks he carried seemed to shoot off sideways, hitting him in the groin.

The poet was felled like a stone, letting out a loud groan of pain as he collapsed.

The other firework that he’d been holding dropped to the ground unheeded, where the rocket-propelled ’earth rat,’ caught the tail of his robe and lit it on fire, before letting out a huge boom and shooting off across the ground to thankfully barrel into the thick stone walls of the square before coming to a stop.

The Second Prince, Prince Nur and First Brother, all leapt to their feet and ran to stamp out the flames on the man’s robe.

"He did say, ’prepare to be amazed’," called the Second Prince to the other two men.

"I’m definitely amazed," said First with a laugh, "I’m amazed any man can be such a numbskull, and still string a decent poem together".

"I’ll be amazed if he can still father a child after that rocket to the family jewels," laughed Prince Nur.

"I think we should come up with a new saying for the Analects," said the Second Prince, as he stomped with delight on the burning tail of Tan Bowen’s fancy robe until it was nothing more than a blackened, smoky tatter; "the poet who touches fireworks should prepare to be burnt".

The man of the moment still hadn’t managed to move from his position on the cobblestones, where he lay curled protectively around his acorns.

Meili arrived on the scene, tapping along as fast as she could on her precarious court shoes.

Once she saw that the men had managed to extinguish her friend’s flaming robe, she knelt down beside Tan Bowen, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Tan Bowen, Tan Bowen," she called softly to him, and he peeped up at her through eyes still filled with agonising pain. "What can I do to help you? Show me where you’ve been injured and I’ll put some salve on it for you," she pulled a small jar of ointment from her rabbit pouch.

"No!" called all three men fiercely at the same time.

"Give him the ointment and he can do it himself, Mei Meili," said the Second Prince, trying to keep a straight face.

Tan Bowen weakly motioned for her to lean closer to him so he could whisper into her ear.

"Thank you for the kind offer. You can apply some salve for me after we’re married. Or... if you want to get married sooner, you could apply some now?" he whispered hopefully.

Meili drew back in shock, looking at the rude man. What was he getting at? Was his injury somewhere only a wife could touch on his body?

She looked at where his hands were cupped and she gave a little gasp, quickly standing back up and crossing her arms over her chest with embarrassment.

The three men all couldn’t help laughing at her now, and her already reddened face felt so hot she wished a fissure would open in the cobbles so she could slip away.

Thankfully Sofya arrived on the scene to rescue her.

"Come Meili, leave this one to the men to sort out. He’s okay."

"I’m not okay!" called Tan Bowen piteously from his position on the ground. "I’m very clearly far from okay, Princess."

Sofya wrapped her arm through Meili’s and pulled her away from the scene.

"Men’s apricots are nearly as delicate as their egos," she whispered to Meili conspiratorially.

"Apricots?" asked Meili innocently. "Was he carrying some apricots when the firework knocked him down?"

Sofya searched Meili’s face for any hint of humour. Finding none, she replied, "in a manner of speaking, yes..."

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