Yīng Kingdom ..... Around 400 CE ..... Between Central and Eastern China

White booted feet splashed through large puddles as the young girl ran down the hidden trail. The sun hung low and she knew the lanterns in the village outside the capital would soon be released.

She clutched the black butterfly mask in one hand while she held up her skirts with the other, fearing her robes would be ruined. She had worked for weeks to embroider the perfect design to match her mask in the shape of a white crane. The silver silk had to glisten in the light against the bright white robes to compliment the shimmering white beaded beak.

As she neared the gates of the village, she slowed her pace to a fast walk and examined the mask in her hand. The black ink of the wings was sleek and captured the fading sunlight. Clear glass beads gave the butterfly its veins. The meaning behind the mask was special to her, so she hoped her friend would be willing to sell it with his own creations. She didn’t care about profit. Her intention was to have an adventure on the last day of the lantern festival.

The celebration was still drawing a crowd, so she had to be careful to avoid trouble. If her father and brothers discovered she snuck out and traveled so far alone, they would be angry. She had to make it home before it was too late.

Her flowing skirts and cascading sleeves fluttered behind her as she hurried around tourists to reach a certain vendor.

“I have this for you to sell,” she announced with a smile.

She handed it to him and he looked it over.

The vendor turned it around several times in his aging hand to inspect it clearly. It was, indeed, an item he could sell.

“Did you make this?” he asked, and she nodded happily. “It’s lovelier than anything I have at my stall, but I have my own business to run, young miss.”

He tried to hand her back the mask, but she pushed it toward him again.

“You misunderstand,” she told him in a soft voice. “This is for you to sell for your own profit. I want nothing in return. I only want to find the person who wears it. It's a game.”

He held it carefully as he watched her. Though she sounded sincere, it was odd for someone to offer such an exquisitely crafted mask to sell for himself.

She sighed a little at his understandable hesitation and lifted her mask only enough for him to see. As soon as he glimpsed her face, his mouth broadened into a toothy smile and he bowed respectfully.

“Shhh…” she directed with a finger to her lips and quickly lowered the mask again. “I’m here to have fun. If I can help my friend earn money for his family, it’s all the better.”

“You’re too good to us, your highness,” he whispered and hurried to hang the butterfly mask on a display board beside others. “Where are…?”

“My brothers were called away a few days ago for the battle,” she answered his interrupted question.

The fatherly figure leaned back a bit and shook his head in concern.

“Being out alone isn’t safe for an unmarried girl, especially one of your class,” he scolded in a low, guarded tone.

She giggled softly, somewhat dismissively at his concern.

“Everyone here knows me,” she argued. “If I get into trouble, I only need to run to a familiar face and reveal my identity. Right?”

The vendor shook his head in unswayed disapproval, but what could he say to one such as her?

“Take care, your highness,” he whispered. “Remember, our village attracts many foreign travelers during festival season.”

She nodded and laughed happily about the mask, then waved before skipping off to join the celebration.

A few vending stalls away, a young man paid for three sticks of candied hawthorns. As he handed one each to the two men with him, he noticed the girl in white spinning and laughing among the crowd. When he began to follow, his two companions pulled him back.

“Aren’t you getting married soon?” chuckled one.

“Isn’t that why we’re here?” he answered and tugged at their restraining grasp.

The other held on firmly and teased, “You wanted us to sneak into enemy territory for one last adventure. Are you using that time to harass little girls and jeopardize the marriage contract?”

The young man laughed at their attempt to preserve his honor and shrugged their hands off from his arms.

“She’s young but hardly a little girl,” he defended himself, “and this is a contract marriage. I have no intention of playing a good husband to the daughter of a schemer who thinks his stolen goods can detain a king.”

The second man who had spoken shook his head with an impatient sigh.

“If you get into trouble here, you know the consequences,” he warned as he cautiously looked around. “Don’t forget your surroundings.”

“I’m only going to follow her,” he assured him. “Tell me neither of you is the slightest bit curious,” he grinned as he turned them to watch the girl disappearing on the other side of a bridge.

She, indeed, stood out from everyone there. She was completely in white with silver garnishing shining brightly in the setting sun. Her long black hair flipped and turned with each hop as the silver hairpins held tightly to a small knot at the back of her head. Although many people wore masks, hers was the only one so uniquely crafted.

The young man looked across the street and noticed a man selling masks. He hurried over and browsed the hand carved face coverings. Slamming down a handful of silver taels from the pouch at his belt, he took two random masks for his companions. The one he chose for himself was entirely unique from the generic designs still adorning the display wall.

“That one!” he called out quickly as he pointed to the black butterfly shimmering in a waning sunbeam.

Before the vendor could remove it from its hook, the young man leaned over and snatched it quickly. He ran after the girl as he tied the mask around his head.

“Wait!” called out his companions, throwing down their candy treats and running after him.

The young girl skipped along the storefront road brightly lit by rows of colorful lanterns, some that were hanging and others on posts tied to buildings and shops. The air was still cool in the early spring, and the occasional breeze blew the smell of local dishes and fragrant flower pouches all around her.

As she closed her eyes to envelop her mind with the scents and sounds, she bumped into a group of drunken men leaving a nearby tavern. Her eyelids flew open and she stopped suddenly before them.

“Forgive me,” she apologized with a short, courteous bow.

She attempted to walk around them, but the one she had run into stopped her. He laughed loudly and held onto her arm.

“Why in such a hurry?” he asked with a menacing grin.

He pulled her closer as she began to struggle against his grip.

“I told you we could find better company out here than in the brothel,” he joked with his friends.

One of his friends stroked her hair.

“She’s much cleaner, too,” he replied.

“Fifteen? Sixteen?” pondered another as he took her soft pale hand to examine the meticulous care of her skin and nails.

“Almost too old for me,” laughed the one pressing her even closer against himself.

The strong odor of wine made her dizzy.

The men surrounded her and began to move her onto a street not as well lit as the main roads. She struggled against their movement and was about to lift her mask to call out to familiar villagers.

As her hand touched the edge of the mask, two of the four men were sent backwards and landed onto the ground. She realized someone had hit them as a third was grabbed from behind.

She spun around in time to see a man standing before her in her butterfly mask. She heard the fourth man grunt in pain as he was hit and another grunt as he landed onto the ground behind her with his cohorts.

The sounds seemed distant as she stared up into the shining black orbs beneath the eyeholes of the mask she knew so well. Two other men in masks walked around her to stand behind him, brushing off their clothes as the four assailants stumbled and ran away.

“Are you hurt, Miss?” asked the man in her mask.

He looked her over quickly as he waited for her reply. All she could do was silently give her head a shake in answer, awestruck at their fortuitous meeting.

He inhaled deeply, still shaken with adrenaline as he had pushed through people to get to her in time. He was still a bit far away when he witnessed her predicament, observing her from a distance as she bought candy and toys for passing children. The nearer she skipped toward the tavern, the more attentive he had become.

“Pretty but stupid,” one of his men had said as they quickened their pace.

“Naïve,” he had corrected him. “She likely lives here and believes the locals will protect her.”

When she bumped into the group of drinking men, they walked even faster. The crowd had become thicker because of the small eateries that surrounded the tavern. When he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, one of his men stopped him.

“Not here!” he had warned. “We can’t make a scene.”

He acknowledged the reminder with a nod as they quickly made it to the group. By the time they reached her, it was almost too late.

She looked around and noticed the dangerous men were gone. He and his friends had saved her, like the butterfly in her story that inspired his mask.

“I ... I like your mask,” she managed to say through the excitement building inside.

Her voice was soft and sweet and sent shivers through his heart.

“Beautiful,” he replied in a deep whisper. He cleared his throat and expanded on his reply. “Your mask ... it’s beautiful.”

She breathed deeply and smiled at his nervousness, relieved she wasn’t the only one and happy he felt the same.

“Thank you,” she replied and relaxed a little as her earlier fear subsided. “Thank you for the compliment and thank you for saving me.”

“You shouldn’t be here unescorted,” he cautioned. “Even if you know your surroundings, there are men like those waiting to take advantage of your confidence.”

She laughed softly and folded her hands delicately at her waist.

“You sound like my brothers,” she told him.

He laughed at the absurdity of being compared to a brother. He wanted very much to express to her how unlike a brother he could be. It occurred to him then that they could be somewhere nearby. Would they somehow recognize him?

“Are they here?” he asked, looking carefully around.

The other two men were alerted by his question and paid more attention to the crowd.

“No,” she answered honestly. “They were supposed to bring me like they do every year, but they were called away. This is the last day of the festival, so I came alone.”

As soon as she finished talking, she wanted to swallow back the words. This man may have saved her, but how was she to know if he wasn’t simply taking her for his own misdeeds? She should have been able to feel the answer, but her senses were suddenly running amuck in his presence.

“I know most of the people here,” she quickly continued. “All of the shopkeepers are my friends. I was about to call out for help when you arrived.”

He grinned at the confirmation of his earlier assumption, but the smile faded. Her faith in these people made her too arrogant and brave.

“And if they covered your mouth and dragged you away?” one of his men asked impatiently.

“Yáng Ning!” he snapped with a sideways glance.

She should be educated about the flaws in her escape plan, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment by frightening her again.

The man huffed and continued looking around the crowd. He didn’t like how many people were around. His ability to protect his young master would be hampered by innocent lives of the enemy realm.

“Forgive my friend,” the young man told her. “The other here is my older brother.”

“We should move to a less populated area,” the brother suggested and directed them to walk to a relatively clear spot away from vendors and shops.

The girl went with them and took note of their swords.

“Too rich for commoners,” she noted to herself, “just like their clothes.”

She took special care observing the one hanging from the belt of the man in her mask. The hilt and scabbard appeared to have been engraved by the quality of artisan only the royals could afford but looked nothing like those from the palace.

“Officials’ sons?” she pondered. “Rich merchants?”

As they reached a closed booth, she deliberately brushed passed him to examine his scent. She closed her eyes to recall the fragrance from his hair. It was nothing she was familiar with.

“Better?” the young man asked his brother.

His brother looked around and huffed once more.

“It would be better if we returned home,” he answered.

She took note of the worry in his tone as he spoke to her mysterious mask wearer. The friend looked troubled, as well, as he paced from side to side and kept an eye on everyone around them. At any rate, none of them seemed interested in hurting her. She decided if her brothers couldn’t be her escorts, these heroic men would do.

“Is this your first time here?” she asked.

The young man who seemed the leader of their small group nodded. “We’ve traveled a long way to explore the kingdom. I doubt we’ll have the good fortune to make our way here again.”

“Oh,” she replied, sad at the news this was the only time they would meet. “They’re about release the lanterns,” she told him, hiding the disappointment behind a delighted tone. “I can bring you to a vendor who sells the prettiest ones and show you the best place to send them off.”

He smiled and was about to agree when Yáng Ning moved closer to his ear.

“It’s inappropriate,” he reminded him.

The brother nodded as he heard the advice, remembering his duty to keep the younger one out of trouble before the wedding.

He sighed impatiently and looked to the sky.

“It’s only lanterns,” he argued.

He looked down again and into her eyes reflecting the glow of the candles lighting the decorations along the street. She returned his gaze from beneath the eyeholes of the glistening crane mask, and he knew his memory would never escape their magic. He suspected the longer he was with her, the more rebellious he would become toward his arranged marriage, but he didn’t care.