The Lotus Palace (20 page)

“We have a lookout watching for the cargo ship,” Bai Huang said. “He’ll signal once it approaches.”

She looked down the stretch of dock and across the black water, but saw nothing. “You think Mingyu and Huilan might have become mixed up with these smugglers somehow?”

“It’s possible. If that’s not the case, then at least the crew can be interrogated for more information about who operates here. Perhaps the magistrate can get them to identify who the dead man was.”

“It’s hard to believe Mingyu and Huilan would have come here alone.”

It was possible the two women could have passed by on their way back to the North Hamlet, but they were unlikely to have done so by coincidence. The docks were dangerous and known to be frequented by drifters. Bai Huang had insisted Yue-ying come in disguise even though he was by her side and guard patrols were nearby.

“Maybe they were lured here,” he suggested, which led to questions of why and how.

Though the night was warm, a chill lifted the fine hairs on the back of her neck. Mingyu hadn’t been a helpless victim. She had likely stabbed the man before he was drowned. It had happened here, not a hundred paces away.

“It would have been very late,” she pointed out. “Mingyu didn’t come home that night until halfway between dusk and dawn.”

“The patrols will thin out after the first hour. It would make sense for any illicit activity to occur then.”

Which meant they had a long time to wait. The wine shop eventually closed down, leaving them on a bench outside with a jug of wine. By the end of the twelfth hour, the jug was empty. Only the glow of the stars provided any light.

“Are you cold?” Bai Huang asked.

“No.”

He reached out his hand to twine his fingers through hers. If the rice wine didn’t warm her blood enough, his nearness certainly did. She sat shoulder to shoulder with him and let the balmy night air flow over her.

“Your sister was asking about your studies,” she said after a while. “Lady Bai showed an interest in how you were doing.”

Bai Huang snorted. “More like she wanted to use me as an excuse to explore the city.”

“Excuse?”

“My sister can be deceptively manipulative. Everyone has her marked as an obedient daughter, but the truth is she does whatever she wants. Why are you laughing?”

“You sound envious of her.”

“Of course I’m not!”

He sounded so offended that she wanted to laugh even harder. “She was envious of you as well.”

“Wei-wei is convinced that if she had been born a man, she would already be an imperial scholar and rising through the ranks of the imperial court. She’s spoiled.”

“You’re spoiled,” she pointed out. “You do whatever you want.”

“
Whatever
I want?” He grinned, reaching for her.

She stopped him, her hand pressed against his chest to keep him at bay. “I’m posing as your manservant.”

“It’s dark.” Obligingly, his arms loosened their hold on her, but he didn’t let her go.

“Your sister also said something about you being distracted at one time.”

“I’m distracted now—”

She punched him lightly in the arm, the blow not moving him in the slightest. For someone who had never labored a day in his life, Bai Huang was surprisingly solid.

“I know Wei-wei is clever,” he admitted begrudgingly. “She’s always been more focused than I am and more dedicated as well. In the past, I didn’t know anything. I made mistakes, foolish mistakes. Wei-wei may sound envious, but my success or failure reflects on her as well as on our entire family. I need to redeem myself for them.”

Hearing Bai Huang speak of his sister made her think of Mingyu. They had been separated from each other when Yue-ying was so young. Yue-ying had grown up in the brothel, suffering the indignity of being bedded by strangers, having no will of her own. All the while, she dreamed of one day finding her sister again.

Then Mingyu had floated through the door like a goddess. For a long time, all they had done was stare at one another, unable to find words. They knew each other immediately, but so much time had passed. Ten years. Their birth names had been cast aside for new names given to them by their masters. The place where they had been children together was long gone.

Even when Mingyu brought her to the Lotus Palace, they remained distant. Neither of them spoke of the home they had left behind or the parents who had abandoned them. Without those memories, the only life they shared was these past few years in the Pingkang li, as they tried to become sisters again.

Bai Huang must have sensed where her thoughts had wandered because he pulled her in close. “Whatever happens, I swear you will be taken care of.”

“I’m not worried for myself.” She allowed herself to lean against him. “I worry about Mingyu. She was the one the procurer noticed among the dust of our village, and she has borne the scar of that all these years. It’s difficult for her being the older one, the prettier one.”

“But you’re the stronger one,” he said gently.

“I’m not. All I had to do was endure.”

Yue-ying had never fought back. She never tried to flee, but she never gave up. She had watched and waited, always searching for a way out even when there was none.

Mingyu was the one who took it upon herself to bring them back together. She used her beauty to find the means to do it. Certainly Bai Huang as eldest son could understand the weight of such responsibility.

A bright flash came from the other side of the canal. It was there and gone, making her wonder if she had imagined it, but Bai Huang straightened beside her. He’d seen it as well. Another orange flash came and then another, controlled and directed. They must be using a mirror to deflect the light from a fire.

“That’s the signal,” Bai Huang said. “The ship is approaching.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I
T
WAS
AN
efficient operation. The ship glided into the passage from the main waterway, oars extended and pulling in a steady rhythm. As it neared the dock two smaller, more agile patrol boats moved into position, blocking any exit. The foot patrol, manned with soldiers from the local garrison, rushed the dock with lanterns lit and swords drawn.

After his experience with smugglers off the eastern coast, Huang half expected a fight to erupt, but within moments the boat was secure. He approached with Yue-ying closely behind as the crew was escorted from the vessel and taken into custody for questioning.

A command had been established on the dock and Huang stepped up to identify himself to the head of the patrol as well as to the official from the commerce office.

“Interesting to see the Ministry of Defense working on a local smuggling case,” the official remarked, referring to the elder Lord Bai’s involvement.

“These are unusual circumstances.” Huang looked to the hull of the ship. “Are we free to board?”

The man signaled to someone who signaled to someone else. The word that came back must have been a good one.

“The young lord is free to do whatever he requires. The cargo is being unloaded and the inspectors will make their rounds shortly.”

Huang thanked the official and started up the gangplank. Yue-ying’s soft, careful step followed behind him.

“I didn’t realize your father had such influence,” she remarked.

Once they set foot on deck, he was able to get a sense of how many men had been pulled together for this scheme. He sincerely hoped something would come of it. Otherwise, Father would have to suffer the embarrassment of this mishap. The Bai family might find themselves wishing for the days when their son’s exploits, though disgraceful, had been less public.

The soldiers formed a line from the cargo hold and began to transfer sacks from one man to the next, stacking them onto the deck to be transferred dockside. Huang loosened the tie on one of the sacks.

“Tea,” he declared, sifting a pinch of the dried leaves through his fingers.

He headed to the cargo hold. As he started to climb down the ladder Yue-ying’s hand tightened over his arm. When he looked up at her, her mouth was set in a thin line, but she said nothing. She merely raised the lantern over the passage to light the way down. A moment later, she descended the ladder to join him and remained silent as they explored below deck.

There was little space to move and the few lanterns below provided only dim lighting. The hold was filled with more sacks stacked from floor to deck. An inspector was supervising the transfer of the cargo.

They could have easily stayed topside to await the official account, but Huang was too impatient for that. Searching through the other sacks, he found more tea as well as a supply of grain. At one point, he felt a tug on his sleeve but thought nothing of it. Moments later, he looked behind him to find that Yue-ying had disappeared.

He found her up on deck, sitting with her head bent, breathing steadily. A wisp of hair had escaped from her cap and the image she presented was undeniably feminine: the delicate shape of her chin and long neck. Even the way her hand was raised to press against her brow was graceful and womanly in manner.

Everyone was too busy to notice a woman among them. Even he had been too caught up in the search to recognize the subtle signals she had relayed.

“You don’t like boats,” he recalled, lowering himself beside her.

“It’s nothing. Just very confining down there.”

Her voice was pitched too high and she still wouldn’t look at him. Instead, she focused on breathing. He wanted very much to touch her then, just to run a hand along her cheek or tuck that stray hair back beneath her cap. Unfortunately, it was no longer dark and they weren’t alone.

“You didn’t have to go down there.”

“I’m fine,” she said, a note sharper.

It was so like Yue-ying to continue on without complaint, just as it was so like him to push forward without any regard to those around him. Maybe she got along with him so well because she was accustomed to attending to Mingyu, someone else who was also self-absorbed and self-important.

Now that he understood how protective the two sisters were of each other, he knew Mingyu would have had to force Yue-ying to leave the night of the banquet. Fear of being on a boat wasn’t enough to chase Yue-ying away from her sister’s side.

The commerce official approached them with his report. “We found tea and other common goods, my lord. The shipment will need to be weighed and recorded. The crew will be held for questioning as well. Most claim to be mere laborers hired for the job.”

“Well, this is disappointing,” Huang muttered. “We were looking to apprehend some vicious outlaws.”

“Not a disappointment at all!” The official gestured toward the stacks surrounding them on the deck. “It could be that this shipment was brought into the city on the sly to avoid required taxes. We’ll know once we check against all the required documents and manifests.”

“I suppose that’s something.”

The man chuckled. “Thankless work, my young lord. Such is corruption, a little here and a little there. Like ridding oneself of rats. No glory in it. Nothing as dramatic as battling gangs of pirates or river bandits.”

The official moved on to finish his business, which apparently involved the exciting act of looking through records and official documentation.

“I want to go back down below,” Yue-ying said. She appeared a little less pale, but not too enthusiastic as she rose.

“There’s no need. A ship like this would have workers unloading for hours in the middle of the night. We can interrogate the crew to see if anyone went missing recently or if any of them had seen Huilan or Mingyu on their last run.”

“I just felt suffocated in that small area,” she insisted, as if saying the words would make them true. “I’m not afraid.”

Huang stayed close this time as they climbed back down into the hold. The men were still clearing the cargo. Yue-ying wove around them, heading to the end where most of the sacks had been removed. Bending over, she held her lantern up while running one hand along the boards.

“What are you looking for?” he asked, crouching beside her.

“I’m not certain, but we hear stories in the quarter.”

She paused at one section and directed the light downward. There were small holes bored into the wood.

Together, they felt along the floor. What appeared to be a flaw in the wood was really a handle to a trapdoor. Yue-ying glanced at him anxiously before lifting it.

The area below the door was black as night. He thrust his lantern into the opening, not knowing what to expect. What he saw was a small hollow, only big enough to hold a person if they curled up knee to chest. Though the compartment was empty, a set of iron chains lay at the bottom, leaving no doubt as to what was usually smuggled inside the hidden chamber.

* * *

W
AGONS
WERE
BROUGHT
in to move the tea and Huang enlisted one of the transports to take them back to his residence. They said nothing during the ride home, but once they were inside the front gate, he could remain quiet no longer.

“Is that how you and your sister came to the capital?”

She reached the door of her bedchamber before turning to face him.

“We were sold by our parents. There was no need to be smuggled in.”

The answer gave him no relief. He had known about her past in the brothels, yet he’d managed to push it aside. He had tried very hard not to think of how many men she had lain with. He had been with other courtesans and their pasts simply hadn’t mattered, but with Yue-ying it did.

How much would a child be sold for? Ten bolts of silk? Enough grain to feed a family for a few months? Huang had owed several million in cash at one time, thrown away for nothing but his own pleasure. He had been utterly blind.

“I understand now why you won’t be owned by anyone ever again.” The words alone seemed inadequate. “I never meant to try to purchase you in that way.”

Yue-ying only nodded once. She looked tired. Very tired.

He headed to his study, prepared to collapse onto his pallet, but she reached for him. She drew him into her chamber and shut the door behind them, enclosing them in darkness.

Though sightless, they found one another with no trouble. His hands rounded her waist at the same time her arms circled his neck and she pressed her mouth eagerly against his. He had told her once she was the only thing in the Pingkang li that seemed real to him. She never felt more real than tonight.

They only stopped kissing to slip off their clothes. She was wearing his robe, he recalled as he untied her sash and pulled the silk from her shoulders. She did the same for him, her hands working deftly, before she pushed him back onto the bed. Her hand paused on his abdomen, her little finger just brushing the scar beneath his ribs, before dipping lower.

He shuddered as her hand closed around him. He had been aroused for days, living so close to her, hearing her dressing and washing from the other side of the wall. Her fingers circled him and her hand ran along his entire length, stroking him until he was so hard it bordered on pain. Her grip was knowing, teasing, merciless.

Whomever he had made love to that first night wasn’t Yue-ying. He hadn’t known her then. She had hidden herself from him on purpose and he had made assumptions of who she was and what she wanted. The woman in bed with him tonight wanted him as much as he wanted her.

He sat up and she climbed onto his lap, straddling him. He could feel the flex of the muscles along her legs as he gripped the backs of her thighs. Without a word, she guided him into her.

“Go slow,” he murmured desperately, already lost at the sensation of her flesh parting to allow him entrance.

Yue-ying did go slow, slow enough that he could feel the wet clasp of her body as she lowered herself. She rested her palms flat against his chest once she was fully seated onto him and the moment of stillness drove him mad. He wanted to thrust up into her, to seek more of that heat and the unbearable pressure of her surrounding him, but if he did it would be over quicker than it began.

Her weight shifted in his lap. She bent to kiss him on the chin. The gesture was sweet, almost innocent, but the change in position caused her muscles to tighten intimately around him.

“Yue-ying.”
He gritted out her name.

She had begun to move over him and he was enslaved inside her. Her voice was a seductive whisper against his throat.

“Lord Bai.”

“Lord Bai?” he groaned. “Is that what you call me...in your dreams?”

He could only pant out the words. The heat, the pressure of her flesh squeezing tight around him, the sheer pleasure of their joining had taken over him and he was making no sense. Right there, at the height of the crisis, Yue-ying started laughing. It was a seductive, beautiful sound and it resonated through her into him.

He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, needing to maintain some illusion of control as she rocked over him, driving the pleasure deeper.

“Be with me.” His voice was rough, unrecognizable.

With what little focus he had left, he eased his fingers between them and reached for her center, for that pleasure point that would take a woman to the heavens. He only knew he’d found it when Yue-ying cried out. Her body drew impossibly tighter around him and her movements fractured, losing their rhythm.

The last of his control was gone. He couldn’t think to pull out of her. He couldn’t stop the flood of his seed into her and the dark wave of pleasure came with such force that he was blinded. He held on to Yue-ying and distantly heard her cries through his own release as he continued to stroke her. Then she was shuddering against him and clinging to him, her nails digging into his shoulder.

It was beautiful. He had no other words for it.

Perhaps seconds, perhaps an entire hour had passed when she laid her head onto his chest. He was still inside her. Though the fire in him was momentarily satisfied, he was loath to separate from her.

“Huang,” she conceded sleepily.

“Much better,” he murmured.

His fingers continued to stroke soft little circles over her sex. He could feel the tremors within her as her body responded faintly out of instinct. But their flesh was well sated and not yet eager to stir again. He just needed to keep on touching her.

“A concubine isn’t the same as a servant,” he said after a while. “She’s a companion. A wife.”

She lifted her head from his chest, sought out another spot and settled down again. “This is what you want to speak of now?”

“I was thinking you might be better persuaded now that you seem to like me...more.”

“A concubine is far from a first wife. She’s a little wife. A lesser one.”

He shushed her. “Those are just names.”

“To a man. There is no such thing as a lesser husband.”