An Lu-shan
chung attributed his apparent brilliance to false dawn. He scoffed at his ability, ridiculed his sincerity and called him General Clown.
Yang Kuei-fei was highly amused at his antics. "Is my cousin jealous?" she asked, smiling.
"Why should I be jealous of a bloated Tartar?" he asked angrily.
"I'm curious to know."
Her taunting tone lashed him beyond endurance. Loosing his grip on caution, he said, "The whole Court is whispering about you."
She refused to be annoyed. "Why not all China?"
"That, too, will come!"
His tone was offensive. Not even the Emperor addressed her in that manner.
"If it comes through your efforts," she said softly, "you will supply the need for the Yang family to wear white."
Had he gone too far? Perhaps, but he was not dismayed. Yang Kuei-fei had always been clever, artistic, calculating, ambitious but she had never been cruel. He had grown up with her. He remembered how she had wept when storms destroyed flowers; how tenderly she had nursed small birds that had been hurt. By nature she was compassionate. She had no capacity for viciousness. Nevertheless, he was sorry, and his manner changed, for his lovely cousin was very precious to him.
"If ever I do aught to hurt you," he said earnestly, "remorse would cause me to fall upon my sword."
She was touched by his devotion. "I believe in you
