ate lichees with keen enjoyment as she waited eagerly for them in the Orchid Pavilion.
Li Lin-fu, meanwhile, was displeased. He resented even the slightest suggestion that Kui-ling was rising in power.
15.
Ming Huang would have been perfectly happy if only he had been more nearly of an age with Yang Kuei-fei. Her extreme youth, her occasional outbursts of exuberance, when she forgot all dignity in the joy of the moment, emphasized the wide margin of years that lay between. Particularly when it rained was she like a small girl. She loved to walk and dance in the garden while the rain spattered down upon her. A rainbow made her wish, forgetful for the moment that having charmed an Emperor, there was nothing on earth that could not be hers for the asking.
With his own hand, Tu Fu had written for her with graceful brush-strokes on picture-silk, "The Joyous Rain of Spring, it follows the wind and gently invades the night, moistening all things, but still the lanterns on the river boats shine brightly."
Using that verse as a theme, she was attempting to write a song that would have in it all the seduction, the somber beauty, the sullen moodiness and the redolent coolness of rain. Rain in the quietude of moonlight. Rain dripping from bamboo leaves. Rain, fine as mist, forming a rainbow bridge. Rain, blotting out earth, of
terrifying fury while people were blurred into wraiths
