The Lotus Palace (7 page)

Huang smiled. “Poor scholars need something to aspire to.”

They were sitting on the second floor of a busy teahouse in the East Market. Yue-ying had insisted they meet there rather than at the Lotus or in the three lanes of the Pingkang li.

“There are certainly women who want to leave the North Hamlet and certainly many of them dream of becoming a wealthy man’s wife or concubine.” She tucked her hair behind her ear as she spoke. “But an elite courtesan doesn’t dream of running away with a humble scholar blindly out of love. Huilan had many admirers. She had a level of security and comfort and a reputation within the Pingkang li which she had rightfully earned.”

No matter how much Huang thought he knew the courtesans of the North Hamlet, no matter what their public personas might reveal, they kept part of themselves guarded away. That was why he needed Yue-ying’s insight.

“So something happened a month ago,” he continued. “Something that worried her. She needed to leave here fairly quickly.”

“Madame Lui would have a record of all of Huilan’s engagements and visitors.” She paused to think. “There was a banquet around midspring. I remember this gathering because Huilan forgot the words to a song. She was very upset by it.”

Huang frowned. “It was about that time when she first approached me.”

He had been drinking at the Hundred Songs with a couple of midlevel bureaucrats and Huilan had appeared through the curtain like a goddess through the clouds.

“I tried to think of something suitably impressive to say,” he recalled. “She was known as the Orchid of Silla so I attempted to tell her she was beautiful in the language of Silla.”

Yue-ying was taken aback. “You speak Sillan?”

Too late he realized his mistake. The know-nothing Bai Huang wouldn’t have such a command of languages. “I once encountered some dignitaries visiting from the Kingdom of Silla in a drinking house. I learned a few choice phrases over wine—though most of them weren’t exactly respectable.”

She seemed satisfied with his explanation, or rather annoyed with it. Which meant she believed him. For some reason, he wasn’t at all relieved.

“Huilan wasn’t really from the Kingdom of Silla,” she said impatiently. “It’s merely a story that Madame Lui conjured up to lend an air of exoticism to her prize courtesan.”

“Well, Huilan did reply in Sillan,” he noted. “We exchanged a few pleasantries, before speaking in Han again. At first there was nothing unusual about the conversation. She inquired about my family and my travels outside of Changan. Then she asked about leaving the ward.”

“Could she have been looking for you to redeem her?” Yue-ying asked, sipping her tea.

“I thought so at first, but she had wealthy protectors already.”

“It’s quite a different thing for an admirer to visit a courtesan in the entertainment district as opposed to bringing her home as a concubine,” she pointed out. “As far as I know, no one had made a bid for her.”

“Do you ever think of it?”

“Of what?”

“Of leaving the Pingkang li.”

“I don’t spend time dreaming, Lord Bai.” She smoothed her hair down over the side of her face, her fingers just grazing over her birthmark. “Besides, I have a good life here. What did you want to know about the gathering?”

He could see why she was overlooked in the shadow of her famous mistress. Not because of her appearance. Mingyu had a softly curved and sultry beauty whereas Yue-ying was thinner in the face, fine-boned with a restrained sensuality that intrigued him. But Yue-ying was constantly hiding herself, trying to make herself small. Even in conversation, she couldn’t stand to speak of herself for more than a few words at a time.

That brief moment when their lips had touched in the wine cellar continued to torment him. His heart had been pounding, every muscle in his body tense with anticipation before she had soundly put him in his place with a slap across the face. He had thought he was finally getting close to Yue-ying, when he was never further away.

“Who was there at the banquet?” he asked, forcing himself back to the matter at hand.

“The banquet was sponsored by an official from the Ministry of Commerce. There were merchants and wealthy businessmen in attendance.” Yue-ying rubbed a hand over her temples. “Will you add those to the names from the Hundred Songs? The list keeps growing.”

They both sipped their tea, temporarily at a standstill. It was possible Huilan had seen or heard something important. Influence was traded at such gatherings. Secrets were exchanged. It was one of the reasons Huang spent so much time wandering happily from parlor to parlor. If only Huilan had seen fit to confide in him. If only everyone in the North Hamlet didn’t speak in such cursed riddles all the time.

“Let us concentrate on this gathering for now. Tell me everything you can remember about Huilan that night.”

He’d seen how carefully Yue-ying observed everyone and everything around her. If something significant had occurred, she would have made note of it; he was confident of that.

Yue-ying placed her palms together and propped her chin on top of them, eyes closed. He watched with fascination as the thoughts flitted across her face.

“The event was located on a pleasure boat docked in a waterway to the north of the East Market. I didn’t recognize most of the guests. Some of them were from foreign lands.” When she opened her eyes, her expression appeared troubled. Her fingers traced a restless pattern over the wood, back and forth. “I left early that night. I had forgotten about that.”

“You said Huilan was upset,” he prodded.

His question snapped her back to attention. “It was strange. Huilan was playing the pipa and she stopped midsong. Something had distracted her. She finally managed to finish the song, but she was very flustered afterward. Mingyu tried to calm her. I think that was when Mingyu decided she had too many problems to worry about and sent me home.”

“Problems?”

“I’m afraid of boats,” she confessed. She moved on quickly. “Mingyu returned later that night, but didn’t say anything. She was exhausted because it was so late.”

“Did you notice anything at the banquet that might have made Huilan nervous?”

“Not particularly. Maybe someone said something untoward to her. Merchants can be a crude lot. Many of them are too uncultured to know the difference between a courtesan and a prostitute.”

Once again, her hand strayed to her cheek. He had watched over the past half hour while she absently tucked, untucked and rearranged her hair, inadvertently drawing attention to the part of her she most wanted to obscure. The bloodred mark that made her so unique. She was always fidgeting and trying to cover her face or angle herself away. Unable to ignore it any longer, he reached out and pressed his hand gently over hers to stop her.

Huang knew he’d made a mistake when her fingers stiffened beneath his touch and she pulled away entirely, sitting as far back in her chair as she could, shoulders straight. “I should be getting back.”

He paid for the tea and had to make an extra effort to follow her as she deftly wove around the tables and moved down the stairs. He caught up to her, but remained silent as he matched her pace down the street.

“If people see us together in the North Hamlet, there will be talk,” she said, keeping her focus straight ahead.

He was forced to direct his statement to her unmovable, unwavering profile. “You don’t have to worry about your reputation with me.”

There was a pause before she pulled ahead. He caught only the trailing end of her reply.

“I am more concerned with what people will think of you, Lord Bai.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

H
UANG
WENT
TO
the gambling den on a different night this week. Let the unpleasant Constable Wu ponder about that.

He still lit a candle and set it behind the dealer before taking his seat. He also had his usual sacrifice of a thousand coins, held together by strings of a hundred. There was additional silver in his purse tonight and he could feel it weighing on him. It was a dangerous temptation for him to bring so much money near a dice table, but he needed information.

The dealer greeted him with a toothy smile. Huang tossed a string of coins onto the square marked “High”, not bothering to untie it to parcel out a smaller bet. He gave another string to the dealer.

“Gao,” he requested, using the single name that his associate went by. The dealer nodded and made a signal to the doorman.

Play continued after that with the clatter of the dice, the call for more bets, the scattering of coins over the table. He lost the first string and losing made him want to lay down even more money. There was a time years ago when he had watched the cycle repeat until the black characters on the table blended together. He had finally emerged from the den to find that the sun was out and two days had passed.

He laid down his bets a little slower after the first one. Sometimes it took Gao a while to appear and once his thousand coins were gone, he would have to leave. He couldn’t risk staying with that extra silver on him.

Huang needn’t have worried. After only three rounds, a wiry, hawkish man appeared. He walked through the den with the ease of familiarity before coming to stand at the dice table.

“Lord Bai.”

“Lord Gao.”

They both mocked one another. One corner of Gao’s mouth perpetually drooped downward, but the rest of his face was smiling.

Gao carried a knife and worked for a money-lender, but operated on his own as well. He was knowledgeable about the world of crime bosses, gambling dens and other illegal, but tolerated activities within the city. Without question, Gao was an unsavory character, but Huang figured it was better to continue on with the one cutthroat he knew rather than venture out and make connections with additional cutthroats.

“I think he’s doing something to the dice,” Huang muttered, eyeing the dealer as he shook the tumbler.

“Are they speaking to you tonight?” Gao asked.

They weren’t friends, but Gao knew his mind in a way no one else did. The dice had just rolled three, four and five. He hadn’t bet that combination, but those numbers had always pleased him in a nonsensical way. That sort of strange connection with the dice and the numbers and even the sound of coins kept him coming back.

“A courtesan was killed in the Pingkang li,” Huang began.

“I heard.”

“I want to know who did it.”

Gao turned to him, still smiling. “It wasn’t me.”

Huang looked back to the table to place another bet. “You’re insufferable.”

Their association went back several years, back to the time when Huang had been a hapless scholar seeking a good time.

“I could have aimed a little to the left that night, you know. Gone a little deeper,” Gao said mildly.

“Do you want me to thank you?”

“No, I want your silver.”

They lowered their voices, but didn’t move away from the table. All of the gamblers were intent on the game anyway. It really was the safest place for him to meet with someone like Gao.

Huang passed him a tael of silver, cast into the traditional boat shape. Gao turned it around once to inspect the markings before tucking it away.

“I think Huilan heard or saw something she wasn’t supposed to,” Huang told him. “I want to know if someone was hired to kill her.”

“She was important to you.”

The quiet tone of Gao’s remark made him pause. “I wouldn’t be asking if she wasn’t.”

He’d learned to admit as little as possible to Gao. He’d also learned not to be blinded by the other man’s outward friendliness.

“I also need to know more about these men. Have they been corrupted? Are they taking bribes?” He provided the names of the Market Commissioner and the official from the Ministry of Commerce. The two bureaucrats who had been at the merchant banquet when Huilan had faltered in her singing.

“Those are a lot of questions for one silver ingot.”

Huang slipped him another boat without argument.

“Come back in a week,” Gao said.

“I always do.”

Gao responded with a laugh. “That’s good. You be careful walking around with all that silver, my friend.”

He most certainly would be careful. He never came here anymore without carrying at least a knife. In the three years since he’d become the target of a ruthless money-lender, he’d even learned how to use it.

* * *

T
HE
MARKET
WASN
’
T
too busy that morning. Yue-ying was nearly done with all her purchases when she heard footsteps quickening behind her. They hit a near run before slowing down at her side.

“What a pleasant coincidence this is, seeing you here like this,” Huang remarked, only a little out of breath.

“Lord Bai.” She greeted him with an air of coolness, switching her basket to her other arm and setting it conspicuously between them, though she could feel her skin warming. He was certainly persistent.

He fell into step with her. “What did you mean the other day?”

“What conversation was this?”

Yue-ying turned her attention to a nearby fruit stand and started picking through a basket of plums. A day had passed since their last meeting. Mingyu had not yet returned from her assignation with General Deng at the hot springs, but that was no excuse to remain idle.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Huang admonished.

She listened with only half an ear as she selected out an assortment of plums and peaches.

“That’s twice the amount it was yesterday!” she protested when she heard the tally.

The produce vendor was unwilling to budge. His shrewd gaze flickered momentarily to Bai Huang, who reached into his sash and fished out a few coins. He handed them over without a second glance.

“Why would you be worried about my reputation if we’re seen together?” he asked again.

She walked on, headed a few stalls down. “Because I have no reputation to speak of.”

“That’s not true.”

“I know who you are, Lord Bai. And you know who I am.” She told herself she wasn’t ashamed of her past, yet she couldn’t bear to look at him.

“You’re Lady Mingyu’s maidservant.”

With an impatient sound, she stopped in the middle of the lane and turned on him. “Perhaps there is some benefit for you to behave the way you do. Maybe it allows you to avoid responsibility for your actions, but people will only overlook so much. And even you are not so thick-skulled.”

He looked startled by her strong words. Startled, and oddly pleased. “Assume I am so thick-skulled,” he said. “Why can’t we be seen together? I’ve seen you many a time.”

“At the Lotus Palace,” she pointed out. “In Mingyu’s parlor.”

“So...”

“There are many reasons for a gentleman to come calling on a courtesan like Mingyu. There is only one reason a man such as yourself would seek out someone like me.” He continued to stare blankly at her, waiting to be convinced. She sighed. “Associating with a talented woman who can compose poetry and quote literature enhances a scholar’s reputation. An aristocrat engaging in relations with a servant is nothing but an embarrassment, to himself and his family.”

Bai Huang must have known she was formerly a prostitute. It was no secret, yet he didn’t appear embarrassed to be seen with her.

“Don’t you see what people will make of it? Mingyu refused you so you settled on her lowly maidservant. Everyone will assume I’ve swindled you. You’ll be ridiculed.”

His smile was directed inward. “I’m already ridiculed.”

Maybe Bai Huang wasn’t thick-skulled. He acted as if he was impervious. As if he were truly beyond shame or reproach.

“I think maybe you are too worried what others will think,” he countered. “In particular, I think you’re worried what your mistress will think. Mingyu can’t tolerate anyone receiving more attention than her.”

His comment made her ears burn.

“Why are you so afraid of her?” he persisted.

“I’m not afraid—”

“Are you afraid Mingyu will have you put out on the streets?”

Instead of answering, she turned to leave the market area. “I can’t get a decent price on anything while you’re hovering about,” she muttered.

“Miss Yue-ying, wait.” He took hold of her arm and she had no choice but to stop. “What about our investigation?”

She exhaled forcefully as she turned to him. “I think you should go to Magistrate Li.”

His gaze narrowed on her. “When did you decide this?”

“Last night. I thought of all we had discussed and how we’ll never be able to seek out the answers the way Magistrate Li and his constables can. It’s their duty to investigate this crime.”

He pulled her aside into an alleyway. His expression hardened and the look in his eyes was keen, as sharp as she’d ever seen him. “Is it the case that you think we should go to Magistrate Li? Or is it that you’ve already gone to him?”

Once again, she was alone with Bai Huang. In the shock of Huilan’s death, she’d overlooked the incident in the cellar, but it suddenly came back to her. His mouth pressing to hers followed by the crack of her palm over his cheek.

But they weren’t truly alone here. His back was to the busy street. She could yell for help if she needed it, but she wasn’t afraid of him in that way. She had stayed up half the night, thinking of him and the way he had looked at her in the teahouse. He had gazed upon her without flinching, without looking away in embarrassment, as if he wanted to know her deepest secrets. Her inner thoughts were her own; she didn’t want him there.

“Why wouldn’t you want to tell the magistrate about Huilan’s lover?” she asked. “It would remove you from suspicion.”

“Consider this.” He held up one finger. A tiny crease appeared between his eyes. “Why didn’t Huilan go to Magistrate Li if she was in danger? She didn’t go to any of her patrons or protectors either. Why did she go to a couple of no-names like her young scholar and myself?”

When he was like this, so focused, Bai Huang was difficult to resist. His features, which were smoothly handsome on the surface, took on depth and mystery. She wanted to protest that he was far from having no name. His name was rather important, yet he didn’t rely on it when speaking to her.

He didn’t need to reason with a maidservant to get what he wanted. Any other aristocrat would command or threaten or simply assume she would obey.

“Maybe she didn’t realize it was a life-or-death situation until too late,” Yue-ying guessed, her heart pounding at his directness, at her own boldness.

“She must have known. She was desperate to flee the city. If Magistrate Li couldn’t help her then, he can’t help her now. She needs us.”

“Us?”

Bai Huang was trouble. Constable Wu was right; he was hiding something. She had noticed that about him from the beginning. There was careful deliberation behind his every act. And when no one was watching, a calculating expression would flit across his face, transforming his careless beauty into something honed and dangerous.

Over time, Yue-ying had let herself be assuaged by his antics. He had a way of wearing away at one’s defenses with his awkward attempts at charm and humor. But she’d never completely let her guard down with him. And she was right not to do so.

“I can’t help you any further,” she insisted.

“I understand,” he replied too easily.

She paused. “You do?”

“Yes, but I need one last favor.”

Before she could protest, he had taken her arm and was leading her out into the street and then beyond the Three Lanes.

“Where are we going?” she asked through her teeth, determined not to make a scene.

“To the canal. I want you to show me where the banquet was hosted.”

Her slippers dragged as he pulled her along. “Enough! I can walk. You’re like a persistent housefly,” she snapped.

Laughing, he loosened his grip. “Come now, Miss Yue-ying. This is an adventure.”

“You’ve never shown yourself to be dedicated to anything before this. Why now?”

“I promised Huilan,” Bai Huang said soberly.

Something in his tone made her relent. Even though they weren’t close, Huilan was still one of the women of the North Hamlet. There were rivalries and jealousies among them, but they all shared a history of being uprooted and sold into the life they were forced to lead.

A series of transport canals and waterways cut through the city, feeding the artificial lakes and wells. They walked along the bank to the point where a major artery met up with the Grand Canal. The larger river barges were docked near the juncture of the two waterways.