Now in his presence, Jia suddenly remembered what she was supposed to do. She got down on her knees and prostrated herself before her father, touching her forehead to the ground.
“Rise,” her father said. Jia obeyed. She felt his gaze upon her, and at last she built up the courage to look at him. Jia felt something flare in her chest. This was her father, and though she barely knew him, she felt a strange sense of connection. They were linked by blood, by time and place.
There was movement on the emperor’s right, and Jia was startled to see that there was someone else by his side. It was a boy about her own age, dressed in robes of embroidered blue silk. His head was shaved to the scalp in the front and the rest tied in a ponytail at the back. Her breath caught in her throat as she met eyes with him. It was Yinreng, the crown prince and her half brother. As heir to the throne he was naturally often with the emperor, but if he had been here in this moment before, Jia had forgotten. She must have blocked it from her mind, along with so many other memories. But they came rushing back now, like water from a broken dam. She remembered all the times Yinreng bullied her, teased her about her low rank. She remembered the time he pulled her hair so hard it ripped from her scalp. And there was the time he stole her doll, the one possession she had from her mother, and threw it in the fire, then forced her to watch it burn.
“Who are you?” the emperor demanded. “Why have you come? And how did you get this?” He held up her amulet.
Jia’s tongue had gone dry. She did not know how to speak. She wanted to back away, run away. She could not do this.
But she thought of her friends waiting outside, of the Hudsons, of Matt. This wasn’t just about her. She was here for Matt, for his family, and, she had to assume, the fate of the world. She could not fail.
Jia raised her chin and squared her shoulders. “I am Quejing, Princess of the Second Rank, born of Jing of the Wanggia Clan.” She didn’t stutter or tremble, even though she was trembling on the inside. Maybe the dragon luck was helping her.
There was a moment of silence. The emperor studied her. “Jing is dead, and her daughter cannot be as old as you.”
Jia’s heart clenched. Her daughter. Not our daughter. He did not claim her as his own.
“I know Quejing,” Yinreng said. “She is much smaller than this girl. This girl is an impostor. She must have forged the family amulet. She and those who came with her are clearly trying to infiltrate the Forbidden City. This is a coup, Father.”
The emperor stiffened. His eyes narrowed on Jia. She could tell he was being persuaded by Yinreng. “Who are you truly? Who sent you?”
“I am Quejing!” Jia said desperately. “I have traveled through time, from the future. I have come to warn you of terrible things that are happening in the world and ask for your help!”
Yinreng laughed. “The future? Father, I warned you. You have been too soft with your security. We must lock up this girl and her friends and interrogate them, torture them, if we must.”
The guards took a step toward Jia, waiting for the emperor’s command to seize her.
Jia started to panic. How could she prove to her father who she was when he hardly knew of her existence at all. But Yinreng knew her. Maybe it was him that she needed to convince. And perhaps in convincing him, she could convince her father of more than one truth.
“If I am an impostor,” Jia said, looking straight at Yinreng, “how could I remember that day you locked me in a chest for hours and when I was found you pretended I had locked myself inside? How could I remember the time you forced me to eat cockroaches, or the time you broke the porcelain vase and then blamed me, even cut my hand with one of the shards to make everyone else believe it?” She held up her hand to show the faint scar. “How could I remember all the times you chased me, hit me, blamed me? And not just me, but all our brothers and sisters—Yinzhen, Yinzuo, Wenke, Chunque. Remember how you cut Wexian’s hair? How you burned Yunsi’s arm with incense and threatened to burn his face if he tattled?”
Yinreng looked alarmed, fearful even. His eyes flickered toward the emperor, but he quickly composed himself.
“Lies,” he hissed. “None of that is true. You are making up stories to manipulate our father and turn him against me!”
“So you admit that he is my father as well as yours?” Jia said, trying to suppress a smile.
“I . . . no . . . ,” Yinreng stammered. Jia knew she had to seize this moment, trample on Yinreng while he was off-balance.
“I am Quejing, daughter of the Kangxi emperor. I have traveled into the past and the future, and I have come to warn you of disruptions in time that have caused great devastation and will cause more if we don’t stop it. I have come to you for your knowledge and wisdom in these matters, not just for our own sake, or the sake of China, but all the world.”
Yinreng opened his mouth to speak, but the emperor put up a hand to silence him, all the while keeping a steady gaze on Jia. She looked right back at him. She didn’t move. She didn’t even blink.
“My guards told
