The jeweller that Ji Linling had visited with my designs meets me a few days later in an outdoor location. It is a part of the palace where women of the harem can meet people from outside the palace with supervised permission. The jeweller wants to confirm what it is that I want. He is an attentive man and understands my gestures and the paintings I draw to communicate better than I expected. I draw, he picks up a spare brush to make suggestions when I pass him the page, and then our eyes meet in excitement. In the end, we end up painting and writing on the paper together, going from sheet to sheet to sheet of paper in an outpouring of our creative juices. From mid morning until late afternoon, we work. We cover the table, nearby seats and bushes around us with more and more paintings. Siao Ren has to keep running about to bring flying sheets back and weigh them down with a paperweight before the wind can snatch them away again.
"I think these are wonderful designs," the jeweller says when we finally sit back with satisfied smiles, nodding at the sheets and sheets of paper spread out all over the place. Some are drawn by him. Some are drawn by me. All are covered with additional images, marks and annotations. "Lady Consort, you are very gifted."
We have made a mess of my jewelry boxes that were brought along as references, but both Siao Ren and Linling are putting everything back. The jeweller's servant sorts out the designs. The jeweller seems to have enjoyed himself immensely, having downed a few pots of tea, two pots of wine and all the food we had placed before him.
"My Lady," he said, wiping crumbs from his cheek and signalling his servant, "I feel that these designs are about to make this small jeweller very rich. You are a true artist. These designs are going to be very valuable. I hope we can partner together in this way again some other day. Before I go, I made this especially for you," he says, producing a polished box that his servant pulls out from his bag and watching me closely.
I sniff at the lacquered wood, turning the box around and examine the wood grain. Raising an eyebrow at him and feeling I ought to know what wood it is made of, I open the box. Then I realise. Apricot wood. My other eyebrow joins the first, when I lift out a fine jewelled hairpin. I don't know how he has done it, but the small spray of dewy apricot blossoms, my namesake, dangles from a well wrought golden twig that is twined with a brownish streaked stone. The blossoms are carved from another type of stone, set in gold and somehow tinged with a pink colour, reminiscent of the real blossoms. Some blossoms dangle, cut from yet another stone with jewelled hearts for the pollen stems that hang out the flower centre, looking very like the real thing. Finer jewels, studded into the tiny twig and blossoms glitter like dew in the mornings. Such fine and delicate craft work is surely not easy to do.
The jeweller grins at me, his nose wrinkling with his amusement.
"The Emperor found out you had commissioned me and ordered me to first make a surprise gift for you. This is my finest work to date."
My voice lets out an involuntary and very unladylike squawk of awe. The jeweller's grin widens and deepens with pleasure at my obvious admiration.
I can't calculate how much a piece like this might cost.
I push an entire box of jewelry toward him, but he pushes it back.
"My Lady Consort," he says, with a bit of a cheek, "you aren't going to try pay me for the Emperor's gift to you, are you? I'm not averse to the extra pay, but what happens if his Imperial Majesty finds out? He would surely be angry with us both. Perhaps even kill my entire family out of anger. Have pity on this humble commoner. No, these designs we have worked on together are going to be all the rage soon. Just you wait and see. It will be more than enough payment. The hair pins for your maids will make the other consorts jealous and the Emperor will surely love the clasp you have designed for him. I won't charge you as much for these as I would the other consorts. You are a rare jewel among jewels and it is my honour to serve. But you do as his Imperial Majesty wishes and do wear the hair pin to the the banquet tonight."
While I am still too stunned to move, Jeweller Ping picks up his things and the designs, showing himself out with his servant at his heels. I hear him chuckling to himself as he goes.