Wind scatters ten thousand specks — a melancholy sight.

　　Watch the flowers fade from view; do not weary of sorrow, nor drink too much to dull the lips.

　　It so happened that in the first month of the fourth year of Yifeng (679), the Lantern Festival arrived. The Emperor ascended the Cheng Tian Gate and issued an imperial edict of celebration:

　　By imperial command:

　　On this auspicious First Night of the Year the Heavens bestow blessings; the people rejoice. Tonight the city is to be splendidly lit — the Golden Guards’ curfew is relaxed; night travel is permitted for three nights.

　　Thus the capital of Chang’an glowed with lanterns. Vendors hawked their wares; nobles and commoners alike strolled the streets at night. Some of the well-to-do wore beast-faced masks; men dressed like women in curious masquerade; performers and acrobats put on strange, extravagant shows.

　　The Emperor returned to Hanyuan Hall and received the foreign envoys. They bowed, presented tribute and felicitations; afterward, the Emperor led his retinue into Linde Hall and presided over a night banquet to honor his ministers and guests. Musicians played; palace dancers rose to their feet. Prince Li Xian presented a congratulatory poem:

　　A thousand gates and ten thousand households glow with light,

　　On this First Night the city stirs with feeling.

　　Crowded streets and lanes burst into dance — sleeves move as one;

　　In that moment, above, a shower of verses seems to fall from heaven.

　　Around the midpoint of the banquet, a palace attendant carried in a magnificent lantern. Its design was novel and exquisite: translucent red paper painted with several carp. The attendant addressed the Emperor: “Your Majesty, the auspicious moment has come. Will Your Majesty light this lantern and have it sent out into the city for all the people to share in the joy?” The Emperor personally lit the lantern and ordered it sent out from the palace to be passed through the neighborhoods as a sign of good cheer.

　　Princess Li Lingyue remained at the Taiping Temple for the festival. Though the Emperor and Empress were caught up in the night’s banquets, and though the city thrummed with joy, a little melancholy crept into her heart.

　　Lin Chaoyang saw Li Lingyue sitting listlessly by the temple gate, downcast. He wanted to take her to see the West Market, and so went to ask the Master: “Master, I notice Moon (Yue’er) has been low-spirited these days. Tonight is the Lantern Festival — the city is full of splendor. May I take her out to enjoy it?” The Master smiled and replied, “You may take her. I shall remain here and continue my cultivation for a few days. But take good care of her; do not let a hair of misfortune fall upon her.” Lin Chaoyang bowed. “I understand. Please do not worry, Master.”

　　With that, Lin Chaoyang wrote the two characters “Yue’er” in the air with his qi, then asked her, “Do you know what night it is?” Li Lingyue answered, “The First Night of the Year. How could I forget? But whenever the holidays come, Father and Mother are so busy — they often forget me.” Lin Chaoyang said gently, “The Emperor and Empress have many state affairs. Tonight, since it is the festival, I will take you out to enjoy it.” Li Lingyue brightened. “If Chaoyang brother arranges it, I will follow — but what of the Master?” Lin Chaoyang said, “The Master will cultivate here tonight.” So the two of them went into the lanterned throngs of Chang’an to wander.

　　They stepped out of the Taiping Temple into a city hung with lanterns and blazing lights — a riot of color and warmth. As the night fell, music and song filled the streets; the sound of phoenix flutes rose and the light of jade-like lamps rotated in the dark. Hanyuan Palace and the city around it shone like a sea of lanterns. On lofty poles hung nine-lotus treasure lamps; banners and festoons swayed. The wide vistas and distant folds of hills were lit; people from all directions flowed in — a tide of humanity:

　　Who can sit idle when the moon is seen?

　　Where is there a place that won’t come to see the lanterns?

　　Lin Chaoyang and Li Lingyue passed a little lantern seller. The vendor, not knowing who she was, called out: “Young miss, my lanterns are beautiful and have the power of fate — buy one and you’ll soon meet your destined match.” Li Lingyue’s eyes lit up. “Chaoyang brother, buy me one, will you?” Lin Chaoyang bought her a lantern.

　　They slipped into the crowd, weaving through the light-dotted avenues. They wandered round and round until they had no sense of how many turns they had taken; the lantern sea and the crowd spun them along:

　　Under the moon, the city is full of lights; carriages crowd the avenues.

　　Soon they came upon a pageant of dragons and fish — three tens of thousands of performers and nearly eighteen thousand musicians — and a surging audience. It was as if the east wind had set a thousand trees of flowers ablaze, the stars rained down, and jeweled carriages scented the streets. The night thrummed with fish-and-dragon dances.

　　Beyond the dragon dance lay the eight-li avenue of lanterns. Each lantern was different, like a field of blooming flowers — moving tableaux of imagination. There were revolving horse lanterns, jade rabbit lanterns, peacock-fan lanterns, Three Battles with Lü Bu lanterns, Zi Ya Conquers the Gods lanterns, and also a thousand homely lamp designs — cabbages, gourds, watermelons, peppers, cats, dogs, sheep, children — lifelike, brilliant, astounding. The craftsmanship left the eye no rest:

　　When the first month’s moon is full, lamps are fresh and new;

　　A thousand lamps under the round moon, bright as silver.

　　Beneath the moon the lanterns shine in wealth; before the lamps the moon seems sharper.

　　Tonight, lanterns and moon fill the capital; everyone comes to see.

　　After the eight-li lane, Lin Chaoyang and Li Lingyue drifted from the West Market to the East Market. There, for the first time, they found a spectacle the West Market did not have: a great theater where singers, dancers and acrobats numbered in the tens of thousands — stilt-walkers, performers “sailing” on dry boats, and more.

　　The stilt-walkers were in different guises, painted and robed, each with their own height and swagger; the onlookers laughed without end. The “dry-boat” performers were not men at all but girls in the prime of youth: two thin boards made into boat shapes fastened at the waist and hidden by brocades, with girls pretending to row while they sang. They performed a little lyric:

　　A banquet of brocade and blossom unfolds,

　　Red orchids bloom in early years.

　　Color spreads across the land, lights sprinkle the sky;

　　Stars seem to fall by the Han, moon hangs by the tower.

　　A thousand-gold smile meets the nine branches.

　　Li Lingyue stopped to watch and Lin Chaoyang bought a river-lamp for her. Not far off amid the dim lights she noticed a familiar pair: Prince Li Xian and Shician (Upper Court Lady) Shangguan Wan’er together, buying river-lamps.

　　Li Lingyue crept to Li Xian from behind and covered his eyes with both hands. “Guess who I am?” she teased. Li Xian, not at all surprised, laughed: “Yue’er, stop teasing.” Li Lingyue said, surprised, “Prince Xian — how did you know it was me?” Shangguan Wan’er answered, “In all the world, only the Princess would have such daring and leisure.” “What a bore,” Li Lingyue said, then asked, “Why are you two here?” Li Xian smiled: “Because you’re away so long, Father and Mother miss you. They asked me and Wan’er to come and find lanterns.” Li Lingyue laughed; “Where are Father and Mother now?” Li Xian pointed: “Not far behind us.”

　　Behind them the Emperor and Empress had changed into plain clothes almost indistinguishable from ordinary citizens, save for the sovereign bearing and air. Twenty or so Imperial Guards in plain clothes walked beside them — skilled men, ready to act should danger arise. The Master Ming Chongyan accompanied them, along with princes Li Zhe and Li Dan. The Empress asked the Emperor, “Why did you have Prince Xian and Wan’er come along to buy river-lamps?” The Emperor replied, “They have warm hearts; let them have this little happiness.” The Empress’s displeasure with Li Xian was never far, but when the Emperor insisted, she said no more.

　　Meanwhile Lin Chaoyang, having paid, discovered Li Lingyue gone from his side. He searched and found her near Li Xian and Wan’er. They came together, and the Empress, who had also been nearby, swept Li Lingyue up into her arms: “So long since I have seen you, Moon — I missed you so.” Li Lingyue apologized, explaining that she had been at the Taiping Temple studying with the Master. Princes Li Zhe and Li Dan also said, “You have been away, and we all missed you.” Li Lingyue replied, “I missed you brothers also.”

　　They moved on to the nearby Drunken Spring Inn, where the Emperor and Empress, Prince Li Xian, Prince Li Zhe and Prince Li Dan took seven rooms and drank. Ming Chongyan and Lin Chaoyang, who were disciples in the Master’s circle, greeted one another like old comrades. Li Lingyue and Shangguan Wan’er each wrote their wishes on river-lamps: Li Lingyue wrote, “May the groom cherish Chaoyang brother,” and Wan’er wrote, “May I be the wife of Prince Xian.” They launched their lamps into the water from the inn’s bank, and the floating lights drifted downstream, other boats making way in deference.

　　By chance a willow’s drooping branch blocked a boatman’s view. The boat struck Li Lingyue’s lamp and shattered it. Li Lingyue, hands on hips, scolded: “Who dares smash my lamp when there are thousands of lamps on the river?” The boatman stepped ashore, sheepish, and bowed: “I’m Xue Shao. The willow hid my view; I missteered and broke your lamp. Please allow me to make amends.” Li Lingyue’s anger softened; “Very well. I forgive you.” Xue Shao looked up and saw her — the moon-shaped brows, the broad forehead, the soft fullness of her bearing. He fell in love at first sight, an astonishment that made the world tilt.

　　Right then the Golden Guard commander Pang Tongshan arrived and scolded, “Who dares smash the Princess’s river-lamp?” Seeing Xue Shao, Pang said instead, “Young Master Xue, why are you only arriving now? The Emperor and Empress have been waiting.” He brought Xue Shao into the Drunken Spring Inn and introduced him to the court. Shangguan Wan’er, nudging Li Lingyue, whispered: “Do you know who he is? He’s from the Xue clan; he was once fierce like He Lan but turns gentle today.” Li Lingyue said, “I don’t know.” (Xue Shao was the son of Xue Guan and Princess Chengyang, brother of Xue Yi, and had been invited by the Emperor and Empress to the evening’s festivity.)

　　At the inn, Ming Chongyan asked, “Old Master at the Yuan Temple — how is his health? Since we parted at the Xuan Yuan Temple he has not returned.” Lin Chaoyang answered, “He is well enough. Recently he spoke of you and the Princess — you should go back to the temple to pay a visit.” Ming Chongyan agreed, and the two drank a few cups.

　　Pang Tongshan announced Xue Shao’s arrival to the Emperor and Empress. The Emperor joked, “Nephew, where were you? We waited, and now you must drink in penance!” Xue Shao guiltily downed a cup.

　　Li Lingyue and Wan’er were ushered to the table; the Emperor introduced Xue Shao: “Yue’er, this is your cousin Xue Shao — young and talented in poetry and painting. Perhaps you might learn from him in your leisure.” Li Lingyue teased, “Oh, cousin — don’t be like that Haralan fellow who only thinks of pleasures.” Xue Shao replied earnestly, “I will not be like that. Princess, rest assured.” The company laughed and the wine flowed.

　　Three maidservants brought dishes: one soft-featured and demure; the second slim, elegant and striking; the third still quite young. Li Lingyue, testing Xue Shao’s character, asked him, “Do you find these three girls pretty?” Xue Shao replied, “They are pretty, but hardly one ten-thousandth as lovely as the Princess.” Li Lingyue blushed. Xue Shao protested, “Princess, truly, I speak sincerely!” The Emperor and Empress laughed heartily.

　　When the evening had warmed and cups had circled, Xue Shao rose and made a request: “Your Majesty, I have a wish — I hope to take a place in the Master’s instruction and learn the Way. I beg Your Majesty’s permission to enter the Master’s tutelage.” Shangguan Wan’er smiled and teased, “Young Master Xue, do you have other intentions?” Xue Shao denied it. The Emperor said, “After the Lantern Festival, you may go to the Taiping Temple to be accepted by the Master. It will depend on the Master’s pleasure, but if you are sincere, you may go.” Xue Shao bowed in thanks.

　　That night, under the lanterns’ glow, new meetings were made and old feelings gently stirred.