A Poet in the Cherry Tree

Mei Meili sat alone in her garden; her brothers had left for the Academy. Tricky lay on her feet, sensing her mood.

Her family had done their best to cheer her up after the Flower Viewing debacle.

Manni told her mother that she had danced beautifully, but the fact remained that her face was startlingly awful.

Now she truly understood why her family had been so protective of her, always veiling her and keeping her at home.

She really hoped this wouldn't end her burgeoning new friendships. She'd been so excited to meet her brothers' friends, whom she'd heard so much about over the years.

She had thought she was all cried out, but a few more tears trickled down her cheeks and she brushed them away roughly. Self-pity wouldn't solve anything.

She smoothed out the paper she had brought into the garden, intending to write poetry that suited her mood.

She picked up her brush and wrote rapidly, her strokes free flowing and beautiful.

"I danced in the palace, joy in each step,

A folk dance for a village girl of my imagination.

My unseen audience transported with me to Yunnan,

Until my mask dropped, and my face broke the spell."

Tricky suddenly jumped to his feet, frightening Meili with a deep, low growl, as his feet scrabbled on the spot for purchase, before he ran off, tearing around the garden's perimeter.

A man appeared in the uppermost branches of her cherry tree and Tricky went mad, baying and barking up at him, scratching and jumping at the tree trunk.

"Aaahhh," she squealed in fright.

"Miss Mei, Miss Mei," called the man. "It's me, Tan Bowen. Don't you remember me from the Empress's Garden?"

She looked more carefully into the tree and saw that it was indeed Tan Bowen.

"Tricky," she said firmly, "stop that. It's Master Tan. We know him."

Tricky stopped barking, and came to stand beside her, still chuffing angrily.

She clasped her chest, trying to calm her racing heart, as Master Tan dropped unexpectedly into her courtyard.

She looked around furtively, if Manni or anyone else came by, there'd be no end to the trouble.

Tan Bowen on the other hand, looked as though he didn't have a care in the world. In fact, he looked very pleased with himself.

"Master Tan. You surprised me," she said breathlessly. "How on earth did you get past the guards?"

"I have my ways," he smiled mysteriously.

She thought back to the other morning when someone had spied on her bath from the rooftop, and she hoped against hope that it hadn't been him.

Her cheeks blushed bright red at the thought.

Tan Bowen saw her blush and immediately realised the connection she must be making.

"Ahem… ahem," he cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to appear both nonchalant and innocent.

"What are you writing?" he asked, changing the subject.

He came to stand beside her, looking at her poem.

"Oh, i…it's nothing," she said, trying to cover the work with her hands.

"A poem!" he cried with delight. "I must see it. Let me read your work and give you some thoughts?"

"Ahh, no!" she cried, but it was too late. He had taken in the four short lines with a glance between her splayed open fingers.

His sunny face hardened, and he picked up the brush. With a stroke he changed the last line.

"Until my mask dropped, and my face cast a spell."

"There," he said with a flourish, striking out the words 'broke the' and replacing them with 'cast a', "much better".

"You dance very beautifully Miss Mei," he complimented her. "I've never seen anyone better," his tone was serious and truthful, devoid of his usual cheekiness.

She smiled with pleasure. "Thank you, Master Tan. I do love dancing as a form of expression."

"And it loves you back," he assured her.

She laughed with genuine happiness.

"You're very eloquent Master Tan, just as my Fifth Brother describes you. What are you doing in my courtyard?" she asked him curiously.

"After you ran off like that yesterday, I just had to come by and see you. I know your brothers won't allow me in through the front door, so I had to drop by like this," he gestured unapologetically up at the tree.

"We'll both be in the sixth court of hell if you're found here. Let me buy us some time," she said conspiratorially.

Meili ran off to find Manni, sending her on a long errand outside the mansion.

Tricky and Tan Bowen now stood alone together, staring at one another in an uneasy truce. Tricky stood at full-alert, preventing Tan Bowen from moving.

"Good boy?" Tan Bowen reached out tentatively to give him a pat.

The dog growled, a long, low hum; and the young man sensibly withdrew his hand.

"We must get along my fine fellow," he spoke reasonably to Tricky.

Tricky gave a small bark of disagreement. "Ruff!"

Tan Bowen inched slowly past the aggressive dog and sat down at Meili's writing table. He smoothed out a fresh sheet of paper and picked up her brush.

Meili reappeared after a few minutes. "I think I've brought us some time," she called to him happily.

"Excellent!" replied Tan Bowen. "I've written you a poem," he said smugly, drawing her over to look at it.

"At the palace a girl of fifteen years.

A dance sublime, a fairy among mortals.

Her audience frozen into submission,

At the command of her fluttering fan."

 She smiled happily as she read the fun verses.

"Your calligraphy's beautiful Tan Bowen," she said in admiration, "as I expected. May I keep this?" she asked shyly.

"Of course. It's yours. I wrote it for you. Though no poem I write could truly do justice to that dance."

She rolled her eyes at him.

"Thank you for trying to make me feel better about it," she spoke sincerely.

"I'm doing nothing of the sort. Every word I wrote is true," he tapped his finger firmly on the table to emphasise his words. "The performance was so good it silenced your audience."

"Pfft," she giggled.

"I'm serious!" he protested.

"You're very sweet," she said.

'Badump', his heart thumped loudly, blood rushing to his ears.

"You must recite something for me, please Master Tan," she wheedled. "Fifth Brother says you're a true talent."

"In exchange, will you play something on the guqin for me?" he answered so quickly, it was like he had already thought about it...

"Of course! In fact, that's perfect. If mother hears me playing the guqin she won't stop in to check on me."

"Excellent! Deceiving your mother should get me off to a flying start as her future son-in-law," he teased her.

"Master Tan," she laughed joyfully, "Fifth always tells me how funny you are".

"I haven't even started yet!" he bragged. "And call me Tan Bowen. 'Master Tan' is way too formal among friends."

"Tan Bowen it is," she cried with a smile.

"A poem for Mei Meili!" he announced.

Her name was poetry to him.

He leapt onto a nearby ornamental rock to perform a Wei Yingwu poem, that felt right for the occasion.

"...Ashamed though I am of my high position

While people lead unhappy lives,

Let us reasonably banish care

And just be friends, enjoying nature.

Though we have to go without fish and meat,

There are fruits and vegetables aplenty.

...We bow, we take our cups of wine,

We give our attention to beautiful poems.

When the mind is exalted, the body is lightened

And feels as if it could float in the wind."

Mei Meili's heart swelled happily. Master Tan was exactly as Fifth had described him, and more.

She hoped with all her heart, that this was the start of a beautiful friendship.