My King of Flowers
1. Milk Days

MY KING OF FLOWERS © 2024 ANNE KATIH.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except for brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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MY KING OF FLOWERS

A fragrance of peonies, so gentle and sweet, hung in the warm spring air around her, reminding her of her youth and the fleeting memories brought with them. Yinuo rushed through the streets, holding a hood by one hand to cover her head as the other gripped the package closest to her side. She ran to the alleyways for cover before shooting through two open-air restaurants.

“Jiejie!” her brother called for her, but she couldn’t be caught! Not now, not when she was so close to home, and she didn’t want her father to know she’d left the house without permission. Her brother’s shadow gained on her, causing Yinuo to take a reckless turn into a dead end. She dropped her hood, clutching the package more carefully and scouring for anything to help her. Someone had stacked crates and barrels at the end of the alley, and without thinking of her bad leg, she raced to them and lifted herself up and over the wall. She rolled over just in time to fall into a bed of brush. “Omph!”

Yinuo waited a moment, smiling as she looked at the blue sky and the large head of pink peony brought front and center—the heavy fragrance lulling her into nostalgia. She had friends who rushed down the lanes for peach and cherry blossoms, but the small petals were nothing in comparison to the softness of peonies. She loved the silken feel of their petals against her cheek, pushing her nose into the center and being enveloped by the intoxicating scent.

She pushed herself up from the plant, suddenly remembering her package, franticly searching before finding the tightly bound silk fabrics. “Please, don’t be broken...please,” Yinuo whispered. Gingerly, she unraveled the layers, inhaling sharply when she reached the last one. A small jade figure of mandarin ducks revealed itself unharmed, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Her gift to her future sister-in-law remained intact, the lovely jade carved so preciously with details even in the feathers. She carefully wrapped it again and then looked around where she had landed.

Large leafy peony bushes encircled her, boasting heads in a spectrum of pink hues, each at various stages of bloom. The tranquility of the garden, which she had unexpectedly invaded, was absolute, with no cries of her name from her brother nearby. Sun shafts beamed through the redbud tree, its violet petals a burst of color over the full trunk and limbs of the specimen. Yet, even caught in the beauty of nature, she found herself staring at a man dozing in a wheelchair, his hand propped thoughtfully against his cheek. Yinuo heard his soft breaths, observed the subtle rise and fall of his chest, and was entranced by the man before her.

Frozen in place, her heart thrummed with each passing second. The man was clad in fine silks of white and blues, adorned with delicate clouds and phoenix embroidery on his outer robe. The long pao pressed immaculately, layered sheer and satin blues beneath it. Her gaze traced the contour of his jawline, sharply defined yet softened by his long, ebony hair, and descended towards his full, soft lips. His hand, pressed against the side of his face, inadvertently drew attention to the large scar that traversed the left side, beginning at his brow, slashing across his dark, deep-set eyes, and ending at his upper cheek. A smaller scar touched his chin.

Yinuo realized she had not yet been detected. She took an involuntary step back, rustling the leaves underfoot and sending the magpies scattering from the redbud tree. No, it couldn’t be him, she thought bitterly. The disruption broke her reverie, and memories flooded back—Dehai, her childhood friend offering her a peony, her king of flowers. The man’s eyes, a blue so vibrant they seemed to embody the essence of water, lifted to meet hers, bearing an unassuming expression. She was struck by a resemblance so poignant that for a fleeting moment she entertained the possibility, only for reality to jarringly reclaim her. Dehai is dead.

CHAPTER ONE

10 years prior...

Lord Yan’s fourth son decided to surprise the fortune tellers and sour three of his aunts’ fortunes by being born female. Although not what was desired, the elders welcomed Yinuo into their family as the only daughter. For all her milk years, Little Yinuo chased the dust of her brothers, mimicked their language, and nearly worried her mother into an early grave whenever she was brought back hurt. Yet, even with a scraped knee or bruised eye, the child often had a smile on her face, blissfully ignorant of anything being different.

Until she broke her leg. Sitting in the courtyard of her father’s home, Yinuo was predominately displayed alongside her six brothers, kneeling in a row. Her leg had been wrapped in fracture powder, and she’d been given medicine and a chair for her comfort, but it did not excuse her from her father’s discipline.

Sharing this punishment, she stole glances at each of her brothers. Weixin, the second son and future general, knelt firm and focused like he’d been since birth. The gentle and pragmatic nature of teaching her horseback riding was the furthest from his mind. Besides him, her brothers Danni and Ruijian shared black eyes—typical of their petty rivalry over the last mooncake. She’d never expected Mingdan, with his calloused scholar’s hands, to ever think of bribing a classmate for access to the stables. And the youngest, Little Sile, still looked smug for sneaking away from old Nǎinai to watch the races. This left Danbei, the eldest, who found himself unwittingly responsible for the actions of his siblings simply by virtue of his age.

The boys shrunk in line as the physician passed with a disapproving glare. “This is your fault, Meimei,” Yan Danni, her third brother, grumbled.

“Shh!” Danbei chided, firming his stance and kneeling closest to Yinuo’s chair.

“Father said nothing about speaking!” Yan Danni protested.

“We’re lawn ornaments. Shut up, little brother,” the fifth son, Ruijian, chided

“I’m older!”

“You whine enough!”

Their father merely glared out the window, and the boys shrunk in presence again. Despite the pain, Yinuo’s world felt warm and genuine. She had her family by her side, and that made everything feel right. Father’s horse had never seen such speed, and Yinuo had sent it into an epic trot before it launched her off that cliff. She’d do it again, feeling the wind against her face and the heartbeat of the horse at her legs. She smiled, remembering the feeling of freedom and excitement. Her youngest brother rolled his eyes.

“Jiejie,” he whispered on her left as he wobbled from knee to knee. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” she smiled. Her brother cheated at the discipline by slightly leaning on her bamboo chair. When their father paced the window, he would straighten up and look like the others, a mini version of his five brothers. He’d been the one who dared her to race the horse faster and only suffered a scrap against his cheek when he fell chasing the horse. His eyes were bright and shined with vigor as he curled his arm around hers.

Their mother walked out of the house, heavily pregnant, followed by an entourage of maids and parasols. She strained her smile as she observed the line. “Sile, you’re in the wrong order,” she commented, “Go kneel by Mingdan on the end.”

Sile obeyed, walking on his knees to the other side of the line of brothers. Their mother tapped the oldest two on the shoulder, allowing them to stand and rub out their knees. She turned to Yinuo with a scowl. “Carry your sister to the back gardens. Honestly, she is enough of a spectacle with her legs exposed.”

“Is father feeling bad for us, yet, mother?” Danni glanced up with pleading eyes.

She returned it with a harsh scowl. “Not today, Danni. You have another hour, at least. Honestly...”

“Mother, you know raised words will upset your condition,” Mingdan replied calmly, not even looking at her.

“You’re not off the hook either! Trading tests! You’re lucky the shifu doesn’t expel you! Do you know how hard your father worked at his age!” She snapped at him.

Sile giggled, and Ruijian nudged him with his elbow, knowing better not to upset his mother’s wrath. Stop, Ruijian warned him. Their mother sighed and then regained her composure and said, “Danbei, Weixin, pick up your sister. We’re leaving.” She marched them through to the back gardens, an inner section surrounded by peonies in near bloom. Yinuo groaned, but only for a moment, as Danbei gently placed her down at the center. They erected a tent above her to keep the sun partially off. Her mother sighed, “Good. Weixin and Danbei, go check on the horse now.”

They bowed out, leaving Yinuo with a pleading look as they exited. For a moment, her mother let the silence pass between them, dismissing all but her most loyal maid. When they were out of ear shot she folded her arms and turned to her daughter. Yinuo could feel the calm before the storm, readying herself for another earful. She tried to dissuade her mother’s anger. “Sit, Mother, you must be tired.”

“If I sit, I’m not getting back up. I shouldn’t be up now,” she sighed.

“It really was an accident.”

“You nearly lost your life for this. Yinuo, no more chasing your brothers. No more horseback riding, no more market visits, or leaving the house without permission.”

“Mother!”

“I mean it, Yi’er. You could have lost your life today. We don’t even know if your leg will heal properly,” she said. She sterned her expression and shook her head. “You are my only daughter. I expect you’ll leave home one day, but I do not expect you to die on me. You’re not allowed to.”

“Mother, I didn’t mean to worry you. Please stop crying.”

Her mother wiped her face, flicking away the tears as if they were nothing. “This is for the best now. I’ll have Yaolin bring something for you to work on. A chore.” Yinuo groaned, and her mother snapped, “Are you listening?”

“It’s my leg!” she lied, covering her face and turning from her mother, who simply sighed and huffly exited the garden.

Time spent in the peony garden would be the most she had ever been apart from her brothers. While she still took her meals with her family, her life had turned from open fields and running with her brothers to a corner garden. She eventually settled into a routine of healing and diet changes, with Maid Yaolin supervising her brothers’ visits. Sile visited first because he was the youngest and least likely to promote schemes. He snuck her candied tiger sugar sculptures and shared with her the secrets of beating Mingdan in Go. Though she appreciated her brother’s enthusiasm, she fought down her tinge of jealousy. If only she hadn’t broken her leg, she wouldn’t be trapped in the garden.

“Shut up, didi! Go away!” she shouted at him, catching herself as her lip trembled. She met the confused look of her little brother as if she had cut him with her words. She regretted it, biting her lip.

“What did I do?” his soft words struck her heart.

“N-Nothing... I just hurt. I can’t play like I want; I’m trapped, and you’re free. Go away! You remind me that I can’t go outside anymore, nor will I ever learn to ride Father’s horse.”

“Jiejie,” he stuttered.

“Just leave!” she cried, but Sile didn’t leave. Instead, he approached her and grabbed her arm, pulling it into an embrace.

“I’m not leaving, jiejie. I’ll never leave, jiejie,” he pouted.

“You fool,” she said. He tilted his head and stuck out his tongue at her. “My jiejie, no one else...”

“What about Ruijian or Mingdan?” she said.

“Mine,” he said possessively. He brushed the tears from her face, “Okay, I can share because Mingdan makes you laugh, and Ruijian creates the best sculptures. I’ll go get them, and you can beat Mingdan in go!” he said happily, pushing off from his sister and rushing out of the garden. Yinuo watched him leave but knew he probably wouldn’t return. Mingdan and Ruijian were both dedicated to their paths; Mingdan in his pursuit of knowledge, and Ruijian his future trade.

Maid Yaolin chased after her brother, leaving Yinuo completely alone in the garden. It was a crushing loneliness, hoping that someone, anyone, would be there.

“Didi!” she called, but no answer came. Yinuo shifted her weight from hip to hip to adjust herself in the chair. Her leg had been propped up by a stool, and the fracture powder itched at the center. She couldn’t reach it, pushing her fingers between the bandages and trying her best to get access to the itch.

“What are you doing?” a man asked her; she looked up and saw the gardener and his son coming in with water buckets from the well. The man approached and placed the water down before bowing to her.

“My leg itches,” she explained, still scratching at the top of her bindings.

The man pondered on it a moment, “En. Dehai, keep her company. I will return shortly.” The man left, and a boy around her age gave her a toothy grin. He shyly stepped back, holding his water bucket over his face. He couldn’t have been a few years different than her. She studied him, canting her head to peer past the bucket.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“N-Nothing, keeping you company,” he stuttered his words.

“Do you have a name?”

He nodded.

“Then tell me what it is,” she said happily, still trying to scratch the itch.

He shook his head quickly, raising the bucket again.

“I have six brothers. Think of me as a boy if you won’t be so shy,” she explained. Cautiously, the boy lowered his bucket, revealing his striking blue eyes, which stilled her entirely, even her previously racing hands, as she breathed in the moment. There was a depth to them, an unfathomable blue that sought her own, reminiscent of the boundless sky and stirring within her a sense of right she couldn’t quite understand. This would be someone who made residency in her heart.

He shuddered, “D-Dehai.”

“Dehai...Good. I’m Yinuo! You and I are going to be friends from now on.”

“I-I don’t know about that.”

“I can feel it. Now, hand me that bucket!” she demanded.

“Why do you want my bucket?”

“I demanded it. Hand it over!” she boldly said. The boy looked to her and then back to the gate where his father had left him. He set down his bucket and shook his head.

“That doesn’t sound like a good idea,” he said. “I’ll have to draw water from the well again, and I know what you’re going to do.”

“Really, hand over the bucket and see!” she prompted, smiling as she did. Despite her bravado, the boy stood several feet away from her, and no matter her screaming or demands, he didn’t have to follow her orders. She was a child, and he wasn’t going to upset his father.

He shook his head. “No, you’re going to do something stupid!” he rebuked her.

Yinuo froze; she’d never been told “no” by a servant before; canting her head, she looked at him in awe. “Why can’t I have the bucket? It’ll help me.”

“You’re going to try and take off your bandages. The physician said that you shouldn’t get it wet, and my father was warned about protecting your bindings. If we get it wet, we’ll be whipped. So no, you can’t have my bucket.”

“...You look shy, but you can be pretty bold, servant,” she mused.

“It’s to protect your leg. The adults are worried about it.”

“Really, what have they said?” she asked, folding her arms.

“They say you won’t walk right again.”

“Ha! I’m not only going to walk again. I am going to run! And then I’m going to beat up anyone who says that again! You first!” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Ah, don’t hit me.”

“How can I hit you! I’m stuck to this chair! Idiot!”

Dehai circled around to her other side. He grabbed a large stalk of a peony without a head and carefully came to her side. Slowly, he approached her, keeping as much distance away from her as he possibly could, but extending the stalk. “Use this...for the itch.”

Yinuo took the stalk and squeezed it between her bindings, finally able to scratch the side of her thigh. Relief swept through her with a moan as she smiled at Dehai. “Dehai! You’re brilliant! I could hug you if I could reach you!”

“T-the sentiment is appreciated,” he said, turning a bright shade of fuchsia. His father returned then, his expression thoughtful and intense. He was a man in his middle years, with neatly styled hair that bore subtle hints of gray at the temples, signifying wisdom and experience. The slight creases at the corners of his dark, slightly narrowed eyes told stories of many smiles and squints. His straight nose and the natural frown of his mouth gave him a serious demeanor as he handed her the stick.

“Here, just in case that breaks,” he said with a knowing tone. He then turned to his son, “Dehai, let’s work.” With that, the servant said nothing else to her, and she observed them attentively watering and caring for the garden. Dehai’s hands were practiced, while his father’s were worn and calloused, bearing the evidence of hard, earnest labor. Yinuo noted the defined wear in his face, the haggard appearance of a once-smooth complexion now etched with the marks of toil. Though his stubble was well-maintained, it could not hide the fatigue that clung to it. Though he resembled a villain from her children’s fables with his serious demeanor, Yinuo understood from watching him that even those who appear scary can have genuine hearts. She shook her head, knowing better to judge people by their actions than their looks.

Initially, it was Dehai’s eyes that had drawn her to him, but over time, his cleverness and heart deepened her affection. However, endless childhood appeared to the eyes of a girl in her milk years; her childhood was a transient song sung by nightingales and drooping peonies that came and went with the seasons. Dehai became a moment in her narrative, a thought hidden beneath her hair pin, behind her smile when peonies would bloom, and a name whispered in the soft words still clinging to her memories.

PRESENT DAY

“Dehai,” she whispered so softly, she did not know if she said the words. The man looked up. As fleeting as the peonies that once blossomed in the garden where they met. “Dehai is dead,” the words echoed in her heart, a mantra of loss. The man sitting in the garden, caught her breath, stilled her world...This couldn’t be him. This wasn’t Dehai—she’d invaded a garden.

“Jiejie! Yinuo! Where did you go!” her brother’s voice cracked through her world, and she shot her head to it. She looked at the ghost of Dehai and then panicked, turning to find anything to escape. A gardening cart caught her eye, and she lunged towards it, running at full pace and pulling herself out of the garden just in time for her brother to miss her foot.

Ruijian panted out of breath. “E-excuse me, have you seen my sister?” he asked.

The man shook his head.

“Sorry to have bothered you!” Ruijian said, panicked, before rushing off back into the street. A rustle of leaves brought the cool wind across his face. Slowly, he stood up, struggling to maintain his balance. He leaned on the chair before stabilizing his gait and getting on his toes to try and peer over the wall. Sadly, it was too tall.

“Heh,” he chortled, amused by the woman. She brushed his ebony locks back over his shoulder as the door behind him opened, and a man carrying a tray entered the garden.

“My lord, is everything all right?” the man asked, looking over the wall.

“Which noble lords have daughters named Yinuo?”

“D-daughters?” he stuttered. The man smiled, patting his shoulder and carefully using it for support as he returned into his home and left the wheelchair in the lawn.

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