from the eyes of everyone. Even her old Amah and the girls who waited upon her, never came to this apartment until they were summoned. They had no wish to incur the wrath of the Emperor when he desired privacy. Though he was a gracious Emperor some echo still lingered of the early days of his career while the Empress Wu How sat upon the throne. Those who stood in his way were cut down viciously, even while he rewarded well those who were faithful to the best interests of the Empire. Nevertheless few wished to risk the possibility of arousing his anger.
Yang Kuei-fei gazed into the water mirror. The reflection that stared back at her left little to be desired, though her expression was tragic. The perfume in the garden in a measure allayed her anger. Tears came to her eyes. One by one they fell into the water. Then suddenly she threw herself face down among the flowers and sobbed, and the flowers wept with her. Though Lan Jen, the gardener, might have set it down as dew that still lingered from the mists of dawn.
Not for a moment did the Emperor realize that he had neglected his lovely concubine. So absorbed had he become in the conversation of Li Po, he had forgotten all else. In addition, he too had taken much wine. For the first time in many moons he was hilarious. Life was indeed droll.
"Our good friend, Tu Fu," he chuckled, "believes his poems are so powerful they will cure malaria."
"That's nonsense," declared Li Po. "How can they cure malaria when so many of them are about rain?
