I stood in Guan Yin’s gardens, Hou beside me. The sun still early in the day. What had been over a week for us, had not been even an hour here. It was disorienting to undergo something traumatic when the world continued like nothing had happened.

  We slipped out of the gardens, past Trac, Nhi, and Lung Nue to my rooms. Hou was quiet. Perhaps having witnessed my complete failure he understood me in a different way. I knew he was limited in what help he could provide in those final moments but his presence made the outcome feel so much worse and I tried not to resent him for it.

  I sank into the bath, releasing my tears where no one would hear, then donned my servant robes, and met Wang Lao Shi for my afternoon studies. I didn’t join the others for dinner, though Nue was kind enough to bring me a plate of dumplings she made with her expert hands.

  Guan Yin had been absent lately from the palace, busy with the population on the rise. There were more wars, more people starving or dying of diseases and natural catastrophes. People called for her by a hundred different names, and she answered as best she could. She trusted me to handle my own emotions. I just wished sometimes she didn’t have such faith in me.

  Following my lackluster training session with the Trung sisters the next morning, I wore my white robes and blue sash and returned to the gardens. The lotus flowers and water lilies needed little care, but the buzzing sprites were happy to see me. They chattered gossip in my ears as I swept the paths and pulled back the overgrowth that sprouted overnight.

  Not everything in heaven is friendly or easy, though all of it is deceptively beautiful. Looking past that celestial beauty to see the ugly inside is a skill not easily developed, even in the gardens.

  While desperately battling a mass of sticky purple vines with vibrant blue flowers, I was on my hands and knees, covered in dirt, when someone chuckled behind me.

  Muzha’s onyx hair was tied in a half knot, looking ageless and perfect with his clean hands, chiseled cheekbones, and perfect teeth. He was distractingly handsome. I stood and gave a curt bow.

  Muzha was easy to be around since we never argued. He was adept at carrying light conversation about nothing of consequence. But Muzha was also boring, despite his looks and high standing, he was humorless and a strict rule follower. Spending time with him was as exciting as ink dry on parchment. There were never any surprises and at the end of each interaction I never knew anything about new him.

  I wasn’t sure why he came around, but I suppose there is a difference in being liked and being wanted. I had seen it in humans too many times, things that were wanted and easily acquired would be tossed away when the novelty wore off. I thought I might end up like that with Muzha since being human was a novelty in heaven.

  “I wondered how you would handle those.” He nodded to the sticky vines as I hid my dirty hands beneath my sash. “Do you know any mortal tricks to dispel them?”

  “Mortal tricks?” I asked, eyeing the wriggling, heinous vines which were already inching back onto the path. “No, I’m overwhelmed by their tenacity.”

  “Do you yield so soon?” His eyes twinkled.

  I shook my head, not quite understanding where this line of questioning was coming from. “No worries. I can match their stubbornness if I must.”

  He smiled, stepping closer. “You don’t like to concede defeat.”

  He wasn’t as tall as I remembered, though I still only came up to his chin. He leaned closer, a move he did frequently when he was seducing the fairies, who blushed and flirted and slipped away. But I refused to yield. No matter how great his ego, Muzha wouldn’t intimidate me.

  “Did you need Guan Yin for something?” I asked, glancing at a snaky vine that encircled one of the azaleas.

  He stared at me oddly, leaning too close. “I came to see you.”

  “Oh.” I cleared my throat, taking a half step back. “How do you think I should get rid of the vines?”

  His long fingers gently brushed a spot of dirt from my cheek. “Ask me to do it for you and I will.”

  My skin flamed where his fingers touched me. I held my breath. He leaned toward me, full lips parting as I froze.

  A strong grip yanked me backward as the vines screamed and burst into flames. They withered into nothingness.

  “And I would do it without making you ask,” Hou said. He stood between Muzha and me, their faces inches apart.

  Muzha scowled. “Bi Ma Wen, still interfering in heavenly matters, I see.”

  Hou’s laugh was feral, and I shirked away at the threat there. “Heavenly matters? I’m here to help my friend with her work.”

  Muzha glanced from Hou to me, jaw tightening. “Are you friends now?”

  I looked from one of them to the other, my cheeks flushing with mortification. “You can both leave, please. I need to finish my chores.” Picking up my broom, I marched further down the path and settled at the farthest pond.

  Hou had burned away all the encroaching vines. Still, I weeded where I could, pulling out unwanted plants and simplifying the landscape while trying to avoid thinking of either Hou or Muzha.

  The sprites lounged along the flowers as I sat beside the pond, scrubbing the dirt from under my nails and listening to the birds sing. Hou typically remained quiet upon arrival unless he felt like causing a commotion. But I knew his gingery scent and heard his breathing.

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  “I told him to stay away from you,” Hou said.

  I rubbed my hands together as a pink tipped lotus floated inches away, anchored by long roots. “I can handle Muzha.”

  “I don’t like how he looks at you,” he said simply. “And I don’t like seeing you uncomfortable.”

  “I wasn’t uncomfortable.”

  “Your cheeks were red, and you looked nervous. You don’t look like that with anyone else,” he said.

  I finally looked up to his warm eyes. “I can manage some things on my own. The others will wonder why the great sage equal to heaven is concerned with a lowly servant.”

  He tilted his head, undaunted. “He looks at you like a hungry tiger.”

  “He won’t hurt me,” I said.

  “No, he won’t.” There was a promise in his words, a danger to his smile. He sat beside me and teased the lotus with his breath, while a bold blue sprite hovered above his head.

  I sighed. Hou was unpredictable and frustrating at times, but I understood him the way only old friends can. I dried my hands on my sash.

  “Are we friends?” he asked softly. Muzha’s question had struck him more than I realized.

  “Yes, I guess we are.” I patted his arm and stood, looking over the ponds once more.

  He stood beside me. “Good. Except, you know, I don’t really need friends.”

  I smiled patiently. “I know, but I do,” I said. “Thank you for getting rid of the vines.”

  He winked. “I relocated them to Muzha’s gardens.”

  I laughed, despite my best effort, and he relaxed beside me.

  “I don’t like Muzha,” he hissed.

  “I know. Everyone knows. He doesn’t like you either.”

  #

  In heaven, you never knew who was watching. A girl training to be a guard was less suspicious than a servant remiss in her duties. So, I stuck to my routine of chores, training, chores, and studies. It was tedious, but it was also the best way to avoid unwanted attention.

  A week after the riots, I skimmed the back pond, talking to the fish and sprites as the dawning sun warmed my back. A red, five-petalled flower floated, untethered on the water. I swept it into my trembling hand and stared at it. It shouldn’t be here.

  In the corner stood a tree with a gray trunk. Red plum blossoms sprouted along the branches as I inhaled the nostalgic scent of home and family. It was newly planted, the ground around it not yet fully settled. I touched the trunk and brushed the leaves with trembling fingers before realizing I wasn’t alone.

  Hou stood behind me, dirty hands hanging awkwardly at his sides.

  “You did this?” I asked, quietly.

  “I thought it might make you happy.”

  I bit my lip and ran a hand over the trunk. “Thank you, Mei Hou Wang.”

  He smiled. “I haven’t heard that in a long time.” Hou walked beside me as I trudged back to the palace. The Trung sisters would be expecting me soon.

  “Guan Yin is sending me away for a while,” he said, voice softening.

  My feet stumbled. “What? Are you in trouble?”

  “No more than usual.” He smiled. Seeing the concern on my face, he continued, “Guan Yin is making me go help a monk of some kind. She thinks it’ll be good for me. I hope it’s Ji Gong, at least he likes wine.”

  “When will you be back?”

  “When Guan Yin says I can come back.”

  He noted my worried expression and patted my shoulder. “I’ll be back soon.”

  “You promise you aren’t going back to prison?” I asked, gripping his hand.

  “Why would she send me back?” He pointed to the circlet on his brow. “I carry it with me.”

  I dropped his hand. We stared at each other, my stomach knotting with guilt. Lung Nue walked up the main road and tugged my attention. When I turned back, Hou was gone.

  I met Trac and Nhi at the lake, where Trac wrapped me in heavy silk robes and forced me tread water. Then both she and Nhi swam beside me as the heavy cloths fought to drag me down. Nue brought me back to the surface when my limbs became too fatigued to work. I coughed water onto the shore while the sisters offered little sympathy.

  “We’ll do it again tomorrow,” Nhi said. And every day after until I was able to swim the length of the lake without assistance. When I made it to the opposite shore, Trac clapped me on the shoulder and ordered me to swim back.

  That night, I pulled out the jade ring that Hou had given me as he left heaven so many years ago. I turned the green ring in my hand, noting an inscription in a language I didn’t know on the inside and then slipped the cord over my head, tucking it beneath my gown.

  I spent my afternoons studying with Wang Lao Shi, focusing on new societies and the conflicts within their monotheistic faiths. Numerous cultures and traditions were lost to those people, all for their singular god. Their professed pacifism was contradicted by their actions; they preached against killing but killed those of different faiths. To me, it read as a fully encompassing statement.

  Muzha came by regularly, inviting me to walk with him or join him and the fairies for games. He extended numerous invitations to dine together but I used my devotion to Guan Yin as an excuse. His stubborn attention made me uncomfortable and I was sure that at least two of the fairies were plotting my death.

  “When will you show me compassion, Jiang Li?” He asked as he escorted me to the palace.

  “When will you show me some respect, Muzha?” I countered. “I have duties to attend to.”

  He moved before I realized what was happening, wrapping an arm around me. His lips met mine and my chest warmed. The kiss was brief and ended when I pushed him back. I had to refrain from punching him. Nothing good ever came to mortals or servants who struck gods.

  Muzha stared at me with confusion as my heart raced.

  “I ask again, when will you show me respect?” My voice shook and I hastened away before he could reply.

  It had been two weeks since Hou Zi left me alone on the palace stairs, and as I rounded the hedges toward the palace, I saw him waiting. My heart changed its beat. He smiled as I skidded to a stop in front of him.

  “You missed me,” he said with a broad smile behind his illusion of black hair and handsomeness.

  “I did.” I studied the candor in his softly glowing eyes. Hou could be impulsive and frustrating. But he was never intentionally manipulative, nor would he ever attempt what Muzha had.

  Being without him for two weeks had only resulted in me wanting his company more. The thought briefly crossed my mind that I was in more danger with the monkey king than I ever would be with Muzha. And I cursed myself for my foolishness.

  Hou slung an arm around my shoulder as we made our way up the steps. My cheeks burned with a new awareness, and I shifted away from him, awkwardly.

  “Were you bored without me?” he asked, but, despite his words, his manner was changed--less playful and even less arrogant.

  “It’s always less interesting without you.” I said, then felt stupid for saying it and the sentence that followed. “Did you miss me?”

  “I didn’t have time,” he said. “I was too busy being good.”

  “What did you do?”

  He paused at the top of the stairs and waited for me to join him. “Traveled to a strange land and back with interesting companions.”

  “Did they treat you with the respect you deserve?” I said it teasingly, but Hou often missed sarcasm unless he was delivering it.

  “No, but better than most up here.” He shrugged. “They were annoying.” He smiled as I met his gaze. “Almost as annoying as you.”

  My tongue felt thick, as my lungs deflated.

  “I see.” Was all I could manage. “I should go in now.” And, turning I left him on the stairs. He called after me once, but I didn’t turn back. Whatever foolish feelings that had started would have to be put away.

  Perhaps Hou had been correct all those years ago. We couldn’t be friends. I was only his annoying, human prison guard as he had told me directly more than once. But he was always confusing me with the discrepancy between his actions and his deeds. I removed the ring from my neck and lay in bed, telling myself that I didn’t need affection, but I also knew that I wanted it. And it seemed that Muzha was the one determined to give it to me.