The Lotus Palace (18 page)

They were far away from the magistrate’s office and almost back to the Pingkang li before Bai Huang spoke. “You need to tell me everything you know.”

“I spoke the truth. I don’t know where Mingyu has gone.”

“But there’s more. I could tell from the look in your eyes as you were answering the magistrate’s questions.”

She looked over her shoulder to make sure there was no one else around. Then she pulled Bai Huang beneath the shade of a banyan tree that lined the lane before speaking.

“I think Mingyu may have known she would have to leave. She told me I should accept your proposal.” She looked away from the intensity of his gaze. “In case she could no longer be with me.”

Bai Huang always appeared as if he was trying to see inside of her, to the depths of what she was thinking and feeling. To that part of her that was locked away from everyone, even from herself.

Her stomach knotted. “Something frightened her and she had to go quickly. She was afraid the way Huilan was afraid.”

Bai Huang lifted a hand to his temple, rubbing at it as he tried to concentrate. Finally he lowered his hand, having come to a decision.

“You can’t remain at the Lotus.”

She started to protest, but he cut her off. “Something happened that night after the banquet and both Huilan and Mingyu started behaving strangely afterward. Then I was chased down the street by men with knives, one of whom mentioned you in a way I did not like at all.” His expression hardened. “You’ll come and stay with me. It’s safer.”

“Wouldn’t I be safer in the Three Lanes, among familiar faces?” She was thinking it was Bai Huang who needed to be careful, wandering into all sorts of dangerous areas while looking like such an easy target in his expensive clothes.

“Huilan was strangled while the Hundred Songs was
full
of guests,” Bai Huang pointed out. He lowered his voice. “If this is about last night—”

“It isn’t.”

Yet everything seemed to be about last night right now.

“Have you considered that without Mingyu, you have no protector within the Pingkang li? Do you believe Madame Sun will house you out of kindness?”

He was right. Madame only tolerated her presence because of Mingyu.

“I expect nothing from you in return,” he promised. “We started this together. It’s even more important now that we find Mingyu and discover the truth of what happened that night of the banquet. Unless you want Wu to hunt her down and bring her in.”

Weakly, she shook her head. She had no choice but to trust him.

They returned to the Lotus Palace and Bai Huang waited downstairs while she went to pack a few belongings. Madame Sun saw her arrival and swooped in like an eagle.

“What has happened?” Madame Sun demanded once they were alone in Mingyu’s chambers.

“The magistrate wants to question Mingyu. I don’t know anything more,” she lied.

There was a small hope that Magistrate Li and his constable Wu would remain discreet. In the event they did, Yue-ying didn’t want to add to any of the rumors that must already be taking root.

Madame Sun stared as she retrieved a plain robe from her corner of the dresser along with a wooden comb. “Where are you going?”

“Lord Bai wishes me to stay with him.”

Madame’s eyebrows lifted. “Is that how it is between the two of you now, hmm?”

Yue-ying turned away from the headmistress’s smug expression. If the entire quarter didn’t already assume she was Bai Huang’s mistress, they certainly would after she had left with him. If Bai Huang wasn’t concerned about it, then she didn’t have the mind to be upset either. There were more important things to worry about.

Besides, there was some truth to it, wasn’t there? They had been lovers for a night. Her reputation wouldn’t suffer from being Bai Huang’s discarded mistress because she had no reputation to speak of. Not that any of that mattered as long as Mingyu came back to her unharmed.

“You know you don’t have to leave, child.” Madame Sun set herself down at Mingyu’s dressing table and watched as Yue-ying retrieved a few other personal items. “Mingyu will be back and will want to know where you’ve gone.”

She bundled her few possessions into a square of cloth and tied off the corners. Everything else belonged to Mingyu and she didn’t feel right taking them.

“I won’t be far,” Yue-ying said. “Just north of here in the scholars’ quarter. When Mingyu returns, she’ll know how to find me.”

They spoke as if Mingyu hadn’t disappeared, as if she’d gone on a visit to the local temple. Otherwise, they would go mad with worry.

“Swear to me you don’t know where Mingyu has gone,” Madame said. “She hasn’t left me, has she?”

Yue-ying was taken aback. “No. She didn’t say anything like that.”

“The moment you know anything, you tell me.”

“I will.”

The awkwardness was palpable and even Madame Sun’s earlier attempt at kindness felt oddly misplaced. Bai Huang had spoken the truth when he’d pointed out that she had no place at the Lotus Palace or even in the Pingkang li without Mingyu.

How could Mingyu leave now? They were sisters. Wherever Mingyu had gone, whatever the reasons, they should have gone together. She had been hiding something for weeks, but Yue-ying hadn’t been able to find the words to confront her about it while Mingyu hadn’t trusted Yue-ying enough to confide in her. Not even after the past four years together.

Yue-ying was lost and she hated it. She had believed that she was free, but all she had done was attach herself to her sister, clinging on to her to stay afloat.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

H
UANG
TOOK
OVER
the arrangements before Yue-ying could think to protest. She waited on the bench in the courtyard while he finished preparing the rooms. Her belongings, what humble few they were, rested in a bundle in her lap. She spent an inordinate amount of time inspecting every leaf on the lone peony tree. Absently, she reached out to touch a finger to a snow-white blossom.

Finally he returned to her, taking the edge of the bench. “What’s the matter?”

“This is an unusual arrangement.” Yue-ying picked at her pack nervously. “Your landlady was giving me the eye.”

“Did she say anything impolite to you?”

She studied the peony blossoms again. “She didn’t need to.”

“What does it matter what she thinks? She’s merely a servant.”

Yue-ying looked back to him with a faint smile on her lips. “
I’m
merely a servant.”

“Not to me,” he said firmly. “Your room should be ready if you wish for some privacy. You’ll be staying in the bedchamber. I’ve set up a sleeping pallet for myself in the study.”

“I should protest.”

“I’ll only persist.”

“If you do that, then I have no choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

Yue-ying had been bold enough to refuse the attentions of a wealthy and handsome young aristocrat, hadn’t she?

“Thank you,” she said softly.

He shrugged. “I tend to spend half the night with my books anyway.”

A faint smile touched her lips. “The eternal scholar.”

He wanted so much to kiss her right then, but she’d become distant again. A worry line appeared between her eyes.

“We’ll find Mingyu,” he promised, adding it to the list of vows he had made that had yet to be fulfilled. “Let’s think this over. We now know Mingyu was on that dock. She couldn’t have overpowered a man by herself, but, if it was indeed the night of the banquet and if Huilan was with her, the two of them could have done it.”

“You talk as if you’re already certain she’s guilty.”

“We won’t know the exact circumstances until we find her, but we can’t disregard the possibility,” he insisted. “The stranger who was killed could have been someone she knew. Perhaps someone close?”

“Like a lover?” she returned acidly. “The public notice described his clothing as plain, like that of a laborer. I doubt he was Mingyu’s lover or Huilan’s either.”

“Then let us assume they happened upon some illegal activity on the docks,” he suggested. “The stranger pursues them. Mingyu and Huilan fight back and manage to kill him. Whoever his associates are, they don’t report him missing because they either don’t care or want to avoid any attention from the authorities. Instead, they hunt down the women themselves. Why?”

“Perhaps to keep them quiet.” Yue-ying frowned, her expression troubled. “Both Huilan and Mingyu were acting strangely, refusing to confide in anyone.”

“Or maybe they wanted to retrieve the money that was stolen from them.”

“I’m not certain that’s the answer.” Tension ran along her jaw and the red mark along her cheek lent her a fierceness he hadn’t noticed before. “It was a good amount of silver, but not enough to die for. They got caught in something very dangerous, so dangerous that Huilan had to die for it.”

“We need to discover who was on the docks that night,” he said. “That stretch of waterway is rumored to be a center of illicit activity.”

“Then the dead man could have been an outlaw.”

He nodded. “I might have enough information to get those ships detained and searched.” He attempted to lay out the plan in his head. “I’ll need to enlist the authorities.”

She stared at him in awe. “You can do all that?”

“Well, I need to ask a personal favor from someone I’m already indebted to.” He let out a deep breath, already dreading the conversation. “It’s my father.”

Father considered matters of commerce beneath him. He would probably dismiss the case as a distraction involving a couple of notorious courtesans who were women of questionable reputation to begin with. They were only useful for the knowledge they might possess; a means to an end.

But the women of the Pingkang li had become important to Huang. He’d spent time in their company, knew their names, learned about their lives. His failure to save Huilan continued to hang over him. He was too deeply involved to turn his back on such injustice.

* * *

B
AI
H
UANG
WAS
gone all day and still hadn’t returned by nightfall.

Meanwhile, Yue-ying was anxious for news. Where had her sister gone? Mingyu should have known Yue-ying would be frightened, yet she’d left without a word. It was thoughtless of her, but Mingyu was notoriously single-minded when some idea took hold of her. Maybe that was all this was. Mingyu off on some whim.

Focusing on her anger didn’t chase away her fears, but at least it distracted her. Yue-ying searched for other distractions and was cleaning away the dust on the bookshelves in Bai Huang’s study when he returned late in the evening.

“You don’t need to do that,” he said.

She turned around, dust rag still in hand. What little propriety there was between them was gone now that they were living in such close quarters. Yue-ying was very much aware of how her presence intruded on his privacy.

“Is there any word of Mingyu?” she asked anxiously.

“Not yet.”

He approached her and gently took hold of her wrist. Prying the rag from her fingers, he tossed it aside. The gesture spoke not of flirtation, but of familiarity; a sentiment that was more intimate than even a kiss.

He was so close that she had to tilt her head upward to meet his eyes. “I needed to do something. Anything,” she said.

“I understand. If Mingyu doesn’t return—”

She held up her hand. “Please don’t speak of it.”

Yue-ying knew all the dire possibilities. She had spent night and day going over them until she was sick inside.

“Have you eaten?” he asked instead.

“I’m not hungry.”

It was apparently not an acceptable answer.

Bai Huang took her out to an area of the scholars’ quarter where a thriving ghost market had emerged.

“The market started as a few food stands operating only late at night outside the regulated hours,” he explained as they walked toward the glow of lanterns. “More vendors joined in. Soon pawnbrokers and money-lenders also set up shop. At first, everything needed to be put up and taken down quickly should the city guards come by, but now the ward officials are no longer intent on shutting the night market down. Many of the guardsmen even stop by for refreshment after a long patrol.”

Lanterns were hung up on bamboo poles to light the area and there were tables and benches set up along the lane. Both sides of the street were lined with different vendors.

They found a table at a stand serving bowls of noodles in a bone broth. Bai Huang grabbed a flask of rice wine from an adjoining stand and set it on the table along with two cups before seating himself. Using a soupspoon, she lifted the noodles to her mouth along with the fragrant broth. The soup was rich and salty and the noodles had been freshly made. Roasted chilies added a dose of spiciness. After a few spoonfuls, she glanced up to see Bai Huang watching her.

He had his wine cup in hand once more. “This is pleasant.”

His gaze stayed on her a moment longer before he looked away, apparently focused on the meal. “I let my father know about the plan. He has connections with the garrison commander and officials within the Ministry of Works. It’s said that the merchant Ouyang Yi owns a secondary fleet of ships that are routinely bypassed for inspection. Once one is captured, we can search the cargo and interrogate the crew on board. This is certainly a gamble, but we have nothing else to go on. Hopefully we’ll find Mingyu long before then.”

Yue-ying picked at her food sullenly, barely tasting any of it. “Maybe it’s better if she isn’t found. Huilan is dead and now Mingyu is wanted by the magistrate. If she was able to flee to safety, then everything is for the best.”

“But you would go mad with worry.”

“That can’t be helped.”

Part of her wondered if Mingyu was glad to be free of her. They had never fully rediscovered their bond after Mingyu had redeemed her from the brothel. Over time, they had gradually become accustomed to one another, but even so Yue-ying continued to act as Mingyu’s attendant. After being apart for so long, they didn’t know how to be with one another. They occasionally shared moments of closeness broken by cold, uncomfortable silences. It was undeniable that Yue-ying was a burden.

Bai Huang was watching her with concern.

“I must thank you, Lord Bai, for all that you’ve done for us. For all that you continue to do.”

“You know why I do it.” He gave her a meaningful look she took as only part of the truth. What they had between the two of them—did she dare call it friendship? It couldn’t be the only reason he had become so determined to solve this mystery.

They finished the meal and walked back to his quarters. Once there, Bai Huang excused himself to his study, though he gave her a dark look full of longing before they parted.

It had been the same the night before. The exchange of an unspoken question before retiring to separate rooms. Only two nights ago, she had lain beneath him as their bodies joined together. Now she had been given that same room while he slept a thin wall away.

She spent a while longer in the kitchen, heating a basin of water to take back to the bedchamber. Once inside, she loosened her robe and retrieved the cake of soap she’d bought earlier that day. She soaked a washcloth into the basin and rubbed the soap into it. Working her way down from her neck and shoulders, she scrubbed herself clean.

Yue-ying had to be practical about what to do if Mingyu was gone. She could return to the Lotus and beg a position from Madame Sun or offer herself as a servant in one of the many households in the quarter. Perhaps one of Mingyu’s patrons would take pity on her.

If all else failed, she would have to return to the brothels. The thought left her cold. Yue-ying never wanted to feel that way again: used, worthless, dead inside. She would beg and steal before she allowed that to happen.

The truth was there was an easy path open to her. Bai Huang was interested in a liaison between them. She certainly could trade her body for security; she had done so all her life. But she hadn’t wanted to with him. She didn’t want to have to. It was a much more pleasant fantasy to think they could be together as lovers without any arrangement or exchange of favors between them.

Their first time together had been her decision, like the kiss in the rain, like her refusal of his gift. Games of courtship. Lovers’ games.

She pulled the wooden pin from her hair and bent over the basin to wash it, careful not to drip water onto the floor. The choice wasn’t difficult really. Bai Huang was kind. He was handsome. Their time together was not unpleasant. The only thing that made her hesitate was that he was a romantic. She didn’t want him to think this was more than it was. She didn’t want him to feel as if she had deceived him.

* * *

H
IS
STUDY
AWAITED
him with its shelf of books and scrolls, all required for the imperial exams. The ritual was a familiar one. Huang lowered a bamboo case from the shelf and opened it, pulling out a thick scroll comprising the first section of the Book of Rites. He unrolled it to the marked passage and then mixed up a plate of ink.

Then the sound of Yue-ying at her bath came from the adjacent room, sending him past desire into lust. The thought of her undressed and so close was enough to remind him of the hot slide of his flesh into hers and that irreplaceable sensation of being consumed whole: body and mind.

Swallowing with some difficulty, he stared down at the passage. Preparing for the exams was as much a matter of discipline and endurance as it was talent. Once the Classics were memorized, it was important to be knowledgeable about the prescribed commentaries by members of the Hanlin Academy as well and be able to formulate one’s own intelligent responses.

It was no use. With every slosh of water, he was imagining slender, naked limbs and smooth skin.

With a sigh, he set the brush aside. The ink had dried on it and he had reread the same passage four or five times. His studies were, without a question, done for the night. He returned the scroll to its rightful place and cleaned his brushes, then removed his outer robe as well as his tunic to prepare for bed. Once he was situated on the pallet, he blew out the lamp.

The sounds on the other side of the wall had quieted. In the darkness, he touched a hand against the wood, pressing lightly as if he could reach through to the other side. To Yue-ying.

This was why there were so many stories of lonely scholars becoming infatuated with courtesans only to fall into ruin. The Four Books and Five Classics couldn’t compete against such erotic imagery and reckless, all-consuming pleasure. Though his own experience with ruin had nothing to do with a beautiful woman. All he had to blame was his own youth and stupidity.