“Either of you talk to Mom and Dad, lately?” Corey asked as he pushed Gloria on the swing.
“Yesterday,” said Ruby. “They’re having a grand time in Paris.” Their mom had been asked to come work at the Louvre for a year to oversee some restorations and preservation of several pieces of art, including the Mona Lisa. Mr. Hudson said he’d tag along for the ride, but he’d kept himself busy with his own projects. He was writing a book. It was a great secret. He wouldn’t talk about it, but Matt had a feeling it had something to do with maps and time travel and perhaps two people in different centuries who, against all odds, found each other and stayed together.
“Those two crazy lovebirds,” said Corey. “They still act like they’re our age.”
“They’re lucky,” said Matt a bit wistfully.
“And aren’t we lucky we got them for parents?” Ruby said.
Matt nodded. He counted himself lucky every day, and yet still there were times he felt like something was missing.
“The building is looking good, Ruby.” Corey nodded toward the twisting building in the distance. It was, in fact, Ruby’s design. She was one of the world’s youngest, most promising architects, wowing the world with her unique and daring designs. She was on the cover of magazines and everything.
“Everything on schedule?” Matt asked.
“I think so,” Ruby said. “I have an emergency meeting with one of the contractors. We’re having a problem with one of our steel suppliers in China, and it’s holding everything up.”
Matt felt a little flash of pain in his chest. Even all these years later, any mention of China still made him suddenly look around, like he might see Jia just show up. He’d heard nothing from her. She’d never come to visit. He wondered why. He worried something might have happened to her, that maybe Yinreng had done something. Several times he’d resolved to just travel there himself and find her, but he always chickened out. Somehow it felt like it would be an intrusion, like he needed an invitation. He’d searched history books and records for any mention of her name, but there was nothing, except for the records of her name as one of the daughters of the Kangxi emperor.
“I’m sure you’ll get them back on track,” Corey said. “You always do.”
“Thanks,” Ruby said. “How’s the new book coming?”
“Slow. Turns out having kids really does something to your work time. My publisher is being very patient though.”
“That’s because they know genius when they see it,” Ruby said. Corey was a successful comic book artist. He’d already illustrated several comic books and graphic novels, and every day it seemed like more opportunities came knocking.
“Speaking of genius, how’s your research coming, Matty?” Corey asked.
Matt blew out his lips like a horse. “Slow, but I don’t have kids as an excuse.” Matt was a physicist and a biochemical engineer, of course. He was currently studying the physical and mental effects of time travel on rats. He’d already published a few articles that were garnering quite a bit of praise and attention (and some strong criticism) in the scientific community. Time travel was in its infancy for most of the world. Some people still did not think it would ever be possible for humans to achieve, and those who did debated much over the possibilities, the ethics, how time travel should be regulated, and to whom it would be made available. It was important for everyone to know the costs as well as the benefits. Matt had seen both. He knew it was a big responsibility he could not take too seriously. No one actually knew he was the one publishing his material, because he published under a pen name—Marius Quine.
“We’ll throw you a big party when you win the Nobel Prize,” Corey said.
“Thanks. I request many balloons. With helium. Enough to make me float.”
“You got it.”
They played with the twins. Matt pushed Gloria on the swings while Ruby took Henry down the twisty slide.
Ruby looked at her watch. “I gotta go. Don’t want to be late for that meeting.”
“See you later, then,” Corey said.
“Oh, Matt, I found something I thought might interest you,” Ruby said.
She pulled out a National Geographic magazine and handed it to Matt. On the cover was a painting of a Chinese woman dressed in yellow robes, sitting on an elaborate throne. “Did a Woman Once Rule China in the Early Eighteenth Century?” the title read.
Matt’s heart skipped a few beats. He flipped to the article.
On December 20, 1722, Kangxi, emperor of China for sixty-one years, was on his deathbed. Records claim he gathered seven of his sons to his bedside, presumably to pass on his throne to one of them. There had been many disputes over the years as to who would inherit the throne. Historians had long believed he named Yongzheng his heir, and though we know Yongzheng did in fact rule China for a period, recent documents discovered have given historians reason to believe that the emperor passed his throne not to one of his sons but to a daughter.
Matt paused for a few moments. His hands began to tremble a little. He read on.
“It’s an almost unthinkable break from tradition for a woman to officially rule China,” says Ann Huang, a professor of Imperial Chinese History at
