The Lotus Palace (17 page)

“Women do not discard men, Lord Bai.”

“My wounded heart disagrees.”

“In order for a woman to discard a man, she would need to possess him and have some power over him. A situation which is unlikely unless she is your mother.”

“But you do have power over me,” he countered, fully expecting her snort.

“Laments of torture and cruelty and suffering hearts are all made up by scholars and poets. You know I have no power over anyone, let alone you, Lord Bai. It’s nonsense to pretend that I do.”

The discussion was a troubling one. He had thought all courtesans longed to be redeemed.

“I wanted to offer you a better life,” he said.

“That is generous,” she replied. “But may I ask, have you consulted your family about taking a concubine into the household?”

“Not as of yet—”

“I suspected so. A favored son, such as yourself—” she gave him a pointed look, which he accepted “—rarely needs to bother with practicalities, so it’s likely you wouldn’t even think of such things.”

So he had offered for her on impulse. Surely such “practicalities” as she mentioned would work themselves out.

“Two years ago, a young gentleman wanted to marry one of the girls at the Lotus Palace,” she went on. “He had been appointed to a low-level position and had some income to his name. He was young, which is always something to take as a warning, but Ziyi was in love, so she was hopeful. They made their promises to each other, we drank to them at the Lotus, and then he left for his home to arrange it with the family. When he didn’t return, Ziyi insisted he had suffered some tragedy, which delayed him. She was very much in love. But there was no tragedy. We found out that he was back in Changan, working as a scribe in the Ministry of Rites, and simply chose to avoid the Lotus Palace. The belief is when he couldn’t get permission to marry, he was too afraid to return.”

He frowned. “I think you’re making this up to taunt me.”

“I’m not. This happened exactly as I recounted,” she said curtly. She returned her gaze directly ahead. “The Pingkang li is filled with discarded women.”

His romantic declarations seemed as thin as paper suddenly.

“My intentions toward you were sincere,” he said soberly. “They still are.”

She graced him with a faint smile, but her eyes were sad. “I believe you, Lord Bai. And I was very touched by the gesture.”

Touched enough to offer herself for one night in his bed. On his grave, this was not going well at all.

They had reached the edge of the wide lane that separated the scholars’ quarter from the North Hamlet.

“Thank you, Lord Bai. I can go the rest of the way on my own.”

She started to bow politely by way of dismissal, which made him scowl. He was in too foul of a mood to engage in the proper rounds of refusals and protests.

“I’m going with you. You shouldn’t be walking around alone everywhere,” he muttered, starting off across the avenue. Yue-ying followed after a moment’s pause.

This was all a mess. He had attempted to do the honorable thing by paying off Yue-ying’s debt to the Lotus Palace. So he hadn’t thought of what would happen next, but he was fond of her. He liked her. He cared about her—and she was being stubborn about it, but she cared about him too. At least a little.

Perhaps this was too much to conquer at the moment. He was trying to find a killer, catch a general in the act of treason, possibly, and pass the palace exams all at once, but once those obstacles were overcome he would figure out a way for them to be together. It couldn’t be so difficult. His family had forgiven him for much greater wrongs.

“It could be dangerous.”

He snapped out of his ruminations to see that Yue-ying had stepped in front of him as she spoke. They were back in the pleasure quarter, though without the glowing lanterns and lovely ladies in the windows it looked like any other neighborhood.

“You said it could be dangerous for me to walk alone,” she repeated. “When you told me that this morning, I thought you were just being a gentleman or making an excuse to draw out our time together.”

“You are right on both counts,” he admitted.

“But you made another remark just now about how I shouldn’t be walking alone. Why is that?”

“There was an incident,” he began. “I was threatened in the street the other night by men with knives.”

She gasped. “Were you hurt?”

“I escaped and went directly to the Lotus after it happened to make sure you were safe. Madame Sun said you were fine, but refused to let me in to see you.”

“Because of Mingyu,” she muttered. “So it
was
you I saw that night. You could have let me know.”

“I had someone watch over the Lotus. I wanted to know you were safe until...well, until I redeemed you.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

She started walking again, choosing not to address his failed attempt to buy her freedom. “Who were these men? What did they want?”

“I’m not sure. Before the attack, a stranger threatened me. He called you—” He hesitated to repeat such ugly words, but Yue-ying had probably endured worse. “He called you a half-moon whore. I had never heard that phrase before you mentioned it, but I could guess what he meant. Someone knows we’ve been searching around.”

Frowning, Yue-ying rubbed a knuckle along her eyebrow, a gesture she used when something perplexed her. He found it endearing.

“It’s not a common phrase,” she said, looking away. “That name was only well-known in the brothels. No one has called me that in a long time.”

They continued the rest of the way in silence. He felt as if he’d intruded on something unassailably private: a memory that had been locked away. When they reached the Lotus Palace, she stopped once again.

“Perhaps you should go now. If we’re seen entering together, there will be talk.”

“They already know and there’s already talk. It’ll be worse for you if you go alone.”

Surprisingly, she didn’t fight him. As soon as they were through the doors, Madame Sun swept toward them like a typhoon wind.

“She isn’t with you?” she demanded, looking the two of them over. Her gaze paused only briefly on him.

“Who?” Yue-ying asked.

“Mingyu. She left shortly after you did and she’s been gone all night.”

Yue-ying turned to him. Her expression was both troubled and agitated. “Lord Bai, thank you for accompanying me. There is a private matter that I need to attend to.”

“I can help,” he offered.

She lowered her voice. “Mingyu and I didn’t part on good terms. She’s probably still upset. She behaves like this sometimes.”

He wasn’t sure Yue-ying believed her own explanation. The other ladies of the Lotus gathered near the entrance hall to listen in. He could see the worry on all of their faces. In times of tragedy, the houses tended to close up to outsiders as they turned to each other. The same thing had happened at the Hundred Songs the night that Huilan was killed.

“I’ll try to find where Mingyu could have gone,” he told her.

“I don’t want to start any rumors needlessly.”

“The people I go to for information are not likely to gossip.” He wondered if there was a way to reach Gao during the day. “But you need to stay here until I return. Promise me.”

She nodded solemnly.

With one courtesan dead and another missing, the warning he’d received in the gambling den was taking on dire weight. He was not going to let Yue-ying be the next person to disappear from the Pingkang li.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

O
NCE
B
AI
H
UANG
was gone, Yue-ying turned to Madame Sun.

“Did Mingyu say anything before she left?”

“Nothing. Not a word.” Her brow creased with concern. Of all of her courtesan-daughters, Mingyu was her favorite.

“She will be back sooner or later,” Yue-ying assured her.

Mingyu was known as one of the most elegant ladies of the Pingkang li, but she could be as willful as any child when she didn’t get her own way. Yesterday was the first time they had ever truly quarreled and Mingyu was probably brooding in dramatic fashion.

She left Madame to go up to Mingyu’s quarters. The rooms appeared the same, but somehow not the same. Every object was in perfect place, but there was a haunting stillness about it. After spending the night with Bai Huang, she felt like a visitor upon returning.

Mingyu was the Earth and Yue-ying was nothing but a lone star that revolved around her, along with everyone else. Maybe Bai Huang was right. Mingyu was jealous, not of her, but of him. Of anyone that drew attention away from her.

As soon as Mingyu came back, Yue-ying would tell her that the affair with Bai Huang was over. It would be as it was before: just the two of them. Sisters. Family.

Yue-ying spent the first hour straightening things that didn’t need to be straightened, but Mingyu still hadn’t returned. After that, she stretched the boundaries of her promise to stay at the Lotus by questioning the porters and carriage drivers in the street. None of them had taken Mingyu anywhere last night. She appeared to have left on foot and alone.

The only time Mingyu ever was away from the Lotus was when she was hosting a banquet or with one of her patrons like General Deng. In any event, it was always with Madame Sun’s full knowledge. Mingyu’s time commanded a high price.

By the afternoon, Yue-ying had taken to pacing. She paused at the sitting-room wall where many a scholar had been inspired to leave verses of poetry. Mingyu’s elegant hand was easily recognizable among the other characters. Yue-ying touched her fingertips to the most recent poem as if she could reach her sister through the brushstrokes.

There was a knock and the door opened before she could go to it.

“Miss Yue-ying.” Bai Huang filled the doorway with a concerned look on his face.

“Lord Bai.”

He came to stand beside her and she could feel the heat rising up the back of her neck. Everything had become serious. It was no longer about careless and stolen kisses in parks and beneath bridges.

“The moon appears so often,” she said absently as she glanced over the collection of verses. “Moon” was one of the few characters she knew.

“All of the poems in the Pingkang li sound the same. The light of the moon, perfumed clouds, jade flutes.”

She bit back a smile. “All the bad poetry you compose, you’ve been mocking everyone all this time!”

He grinned at her and some of the weight lifted from her chest, but it didn’t last long.

Bai Huang saw how her smile faded. “Madame Sun told me Mingyu hasn’t returned yet. A friend of mine said he would scour the streets for any word of her. She is unlikely to go unnoticed, as well-known as she is.”

“And remarkably beautiful,” she added, feeling a sadness sweep through her. “I checked her belongings. She didn’t take anything with her, wherever she went. I even checked her store of cash and jewels. It’s all here, untouched.”

Yue-ying pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, her throat constricting. At her mention of money, something so practical, the reality of the situation finally descended on her. Mingyu kept a hidden stash of silver and gifts from wealthy patrons in a box at the bottom of the wardrobe. Only the two of them knew about it. If Mingyu had planned to run away, she would have taken it.

Bai Huang took hold of her hand. He did it only to comfort her, but even so she felt guilty. She’d chosen him over her sister, if only for one night, and now this was her punishment.

“We always talk about leaving this place.” Her eyes stung, but she blinked back the tears. “She told me yesterday that I should go with you and she wouldn’t interfere, but I thought she was just angry. Because of you. I was angry too about how she’d kept you away from me. So I went.”

“Yue-ying. Love. Everything will be fine.”

His deep voice flowed over her and she wanted to lay her head against his shoulder. He was so close, his presence embracing her even if his arms weren’t.

“What if the same thing that happened to Huilan—?”

She couldn’t finish. Mingyu was the one who had expressed fear that there was a murderer in the North Hamlet. She had demanded protection when they were traveling outside the ward, but Yue-ying had assumed Mingyu was being temperamental.

“Don’t worry yourself needlessly.” Bai Huang tightened his grip on her hand, but he was also frowning. “I can make more public inquiries in the guise of being lovesick. Everyone already believes I’m taken with her and I’m known for being indiscreet.”

It was the first time Bai Huang had admitted that his courtship of Mingyu was little more than a ruse, but why so much effort? He’d become famous for it, or rather infamous.

She couldn’t ask him about his reasons now. She was too grateful for his help. “If you can inquire with some of her patrons. General Deng had wanted to make her his concubine at one point. She might have gone to him.”

“Deng.” Bai Huang paused and his look darkened. “You know she wasn’t at the hot springs with the general a few weeks ago.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were mistaken about that. Everyone was mistaken. General Deng never left his command. Whoever Mingyu was with when she was away, it wasn’t him.”

A frantic knocking on the door made her jump.

“Yue-ying! Come quickly!”

She looked to Bai Huang, who appeared equally puzzled. They disengaged, her hand slipping away from his, and went to the door. Whoever had come to call them had already gone downstairs. They hurried down the steps to where the courtesans were gathered.

Madame’s voice rang from inside the main parlor. “What is this? What’s happened?”

“It’s about Mingyu,” one of the girls whispered.

A fist closed around Yue-ying’s chest. She pushed her way into the sitting room where Wu Kaifeng stood like an ill omen all in black. Another constable stood beside him holding a set of iron chains.

“It will be worse for everyone here if you refuse us,” Wu said tonelessly. “Where is Lady Mingyu?”

“We don’t know where she is.” Madame Sun stretched to her full height before them. Constable Wu still towered head and shoulders above her. “You can search every corner of the Lotus and she still won’t appear.”

Wu’s eyes glinted dangerously.

“She’s telling the truth.” Yue-ying came forward to stand beside the headmistress. Despite her instinct to shrink back, she squared her shoulders. “She left yesterday evening. We’ve been looking for her ourselves.”

“Do not lie to me,” Wu warned her. “Wherever your mistress is, it is very important she come with me.”

“What is this regarding?” Bai Huang demanded.

All heads turned to him. The Bai family name held considerable weight, whereas the protests and demands of a house of women could be easily denied.

Wu affected a slight bow. “Lady Mingyu is wanted for questioning before the tribunal. I meant to bring her in quietly to avoid any unnecessary scandal.”

Yue-ying eyed the assistant constable with his iron manacles. The seeds of scandal were already sown.

Bai Huang wasn’t satisfied by Wu’s answer. “What is the charge, Constable? Her foster mother should be fully informed about her daughter’s plight, wouldn’t you agree?”

Charge? Surely there was no accusation here. Magistrate Li and Mingyu were on good terms. They were friends. Li must have had a few questions to ask Mingyu about some case or another, that was all. Yue-ying’s heart thudded as she waited for an answer.

Wu Kaifeng stared at Bai Huang for several long seconds. When Bai Huang didn’t flinch, the constable turned his gaze to her. She wasn’t nearly as strong.

“An arrest warrant has been issued for Lady Mingyu,” Wu reported. “She is to be brought in on suspicion of murder.”

* * *

B
AI
H
UANG
INSISTED
on accompanying her to see Magistrate Li Yen. Yue-ying was certain Constable Wu wouldn’t have been as cordial if she had gone there alone. With Bai Huang at her side, they were escorted directly to the inner office. It was half an hour before Magistrate Li was finished with the day’s schedule of cases and petitions.

Finally, Li appeared with Constable Wu by his side like a mismatched shadow. Yue-ying straightened and bowed low. She had never been so formal when Magistrate Li came calling at the Lotus, but she was in his domain now.

“Lord Bai.” Li acknowledged Bai Huang with a bow of his own, though much shorter than hers. “It appears we have an unfortunate situation.”

Li seated himself behind his desk, which was raised upon a dais. Yue-ying wasn’t forced to kneel as she would have in the tribunal, but the magistrate still looked down at them from on high.

“When the honorable magistrate first arrived in Changan to take this position, Lady Mingyu was of great help to him,” she pleaded. “The magistrate must know that Mingyu is honest and upstanding—”

Li raised his hand to stop her. “Any past friendship holds no weight here. The law is the law.”

Her stomach sank. Magistrate Li gestured toward the constable and Yue-ying could see that all of the gatherings and banquets, all of the pleasant conversations he’d held with Mingyu, meant nothing. If Mingyu were here, perhaps she could sway his judgment, but to Yue-ying he was a cold, efficient bureaucrat bent on his appointed duty.

Constable Wu handed the magistrate a small parcel wrapped in cloth, which he unwrapped and placed on the desk. “This was found yesterday on a dock. The same dock where a boat was reported missing after the recent earthquake.”

Yue-ying was allowed to approach. The wind rushed out of her as she stared at the magistrate’s desk. A hair ornament decorated with pearls and a jade butterfly carving lay there, the sort of trinket designed to swing and catch the eye as one walked. The attached pin had been snapped off.

“Did this belong to your mistress?” Li asked.

It would be useless to deny it. General Deng had gifted it to Mingyu, who had worn it during the Lantern Festival while she stood by his side. Everyone had seen her that day. The sight of Mingyu was, regrettably, unforgettable.

“I—I’m not certain,” she stammered, earning a deep frown from the magistrate.

It was a lie and a poor one, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak out against her own sister. She sensed Bai Huang coming up behind her. He didn’t touch her, but his closeness lent her strength.

“The ornament matches the broken pin found on the body of a man who had been forcibly drowned,” Magistrate Li went on, his voice filling the chamber. He was often described as soft-spoken, but no longer. “The owner of this pin used it as a weapon, attacking the victim before he was killed. It is highly probable she was also present while the murder was committed.”

“Or she committed the crime herself,” Constable Wu interjected.

Magistrate Li paused to stare at his constable before nodding soberly.

Though her instincts had insisted something was amiss, it was a very different matter to be confronted with harsh evidence. Yue-ying stared at the two halves of the silver ornament. It had been rendered in two by an act of violence.

Her mind was in turmoil, unable to focus on any thought other than that Mingyu was in danger. But what had happened? And why had her own sister hidden the truth from her?

The magistrate was watching and weighing every emotion that flickered across her face. “You must tell us anything you know about where your mistress may be.”

She forced herself to remain calm. “No one knows where Lady Mingyu has gone. She left yesterday without telling anyone.”

“And where were you, miss? You have always been faithfully by her side.”

“I was—” She felt the back of her neck burning.

“She was away,” Bai Huang answered for her. “Miss Yue-ying is telling the truth. She knows nothing about her mistress’s whereabouts.”

The possessiveness of his tone beat back any question the magistrate and the constable might have. Even though she had refused him, Bai Huang was still offering her his protection. Without it, she was little more than dust before these men.

“Well, then, with Lord Bai’s assurance—”

Wu made a scoffing noise in the back of his throat, which Magistrate Li ignored.

“Constable Wu will continue our search for Lady Mingyu so this case may be resolved quickly.” The magistrate rose to his feet. “We trust that you will inform us should she return.”

Her last image before she left the office wasn’t of Magistrate Li, but of Constable Wu’s dark stare. As much as Yue-ying wanted to know where Mingyu was, it made her blood run cold to think of the ruthless constable hunting her sister down.