The Jade Temptress
Author: Jeannie Lin
Date: 2013-12-20 08:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Romance; Mystery; Historical; Adult
Description: Beauty and treachery abound in the infamous Pingkang Li, where the exclusive Lotus Palace attracts society’s most celebrated courtesans…and their scandals. As the most requested hostess at the Lotus Palace, Mingyu can charm any man who seeks her company—except Wu Kaifeng. Wu Kaifeng is a no-nonsense constable who maintains his level head even in the most desperate situations. Having crossed paths with each other in the past, the two have a strained history, but that doesn’t stop Mingyu from falling for the secretly sensitive officer. When a powerful official is found dead in a highly suspiciou
Publisher: HQN
Rights: Copyright (c) 2014 by Jeannie Lin

Welcome to the infamous Pingkang li—home of the celebrated Lotus Palace courtesans, and a place of beauty and treachery…

Charming and seductive, Mingyu is the most sought-after hostess in the pleasure quarter. She has all men wrapped around her finger—except Constable Wu Kaifeng, the one man she can’t resist, the only man to have placed her in chains.

Wu Kaifeng’s outwardly intimidating demeanor hides a reluctant, fierce attraction to beautiful Mingyu. But the passionate temptation she presents threatens to destroy them both when a powerful official is murdered and they find themselves on a deadly trail. Amid the chaos, a forbidden affair could change Mingyu’s fate forever, for following her heart is bound to have consequences.…

Praise for Jeannie Lin

“Wonderfully adventurous love stories set in ancient China, brimming with atmosphere, customs, language and history without missing a deeply emotional love story at the core… Lin proves that, quite simply, she is an exceptional storyteller.”
—RT Book Reviews on The Lotus Palace

“[Lin is] known for building plenty of historical verisimilitude into [her] romances, giving them intellectual as well as emotional depth.”
—Publishers Weekly, Top 10 pick, on The Lotus Palace

“The Lotus Palace by Jeannie Lin is a sensual romance and a gripping mystery story, but is also a moving portrayal of the women and men who socialize in the bordellos of Tang dynasty China.”
—Goodreads.com on The Lotus Palace

“Deliciously detailed and intricately plotted, The Lotus Palace proves Jeannie Lin is a master storyteller.”
—New York Times bestselling author Deanna Raybourn

“Lush history, heartbreaking romance, fascinating mystery, and a happy ending! What more can anyone ask?”
—Patricia Rice, New York Times bestselling author, on The Lotus Palace

“Jeannie Lin has done it again….The Lotus Palace is a poignant love story to treasure.”
—Elizabeth Essex, award-winning author of Scandal in the Night, on The Lotus Palace

“The Lotus Palace is pure entertainment.”
—Midwest Book Reviews on The Lotus Palace

Also available from
Jeannie Lin
and Harlequin HQN

THE LOTUS PALACE

THE JADE TEMPTRESS

Jeannie Lin

Dear Reader,

While writing the previous book, The Lotus Palace, Mingyu and Constable Wu Kaifeng played an important role. I already knew from their early interactions that something was brewing under the surface between them. It was also a pleasure to return to the entertainment district of the Pingkang li. The setting has provided me with endless inspiration.

For history buffs, the crime featured in The Jade Temptress was based on a popular tale of the Pingkang li. Mingyu’s conduct and her relationship with her patrons as well as her foster mother was also a composite of many different accounts of the courtesans who entertained within the quarter. The source for much of this was Sun Qi’s Records of the Northern Quarter, which was written in the later Tang Dynasty.

For mystery buffs, Wu Kaifeng’s forensic knowledge was based on case records of criminal investigations from as early as the Han Dynasty and through to the Tang Dynasty. The most prominent treatise on Chinese forensics in imperial China is physician Song Ci’s The Washing Away of Wrongs, which was written later in the thirteenth century. However, given that many of the earlier case records included detail about forensics investigations, I took some liberty and extrapolated that these processes of autopsy and crime scene recreation were likely, or at least believably, in place in some form during the Tang Dynasty.

In essence, Mingyu is an artist who specializes in invoking and manipulating emotion, while Kaifeng is a man of logic who is searching for discreet answers. Their romance, for me, was at times as unpredictable as the mystery they had to solve.

To contact me or to learn more about the background of the story or upcoming releases, you can find me online at www.jeannielin.com. I always love hearing from readers.

Sincerely,
Jeannie Lin

Acknowledgments

This book owes a huge debt of gratitude to my husband for his support and patience whenever there was a deadline looming. A huge thanks to my critique partner and partner in crime, Shawntelle Madison, for all the pep-talks and writing sprints to keep me going when I was running on empty. Also to Amanda Berry, Dawn Blankenship and Kristi Lea for the Skype chats and emotional support. A big thanks to Megan Kelly and CORE for allowing me to vet out the opening chapter and setting me on the right path.

As always, I must acknowledge Bria Quinlan, Inez Kelley and Kate Pearce for being ready and willing to read the ugly draft and tell me how to make it all better rather than letting me torch it like I want to.

To my editor Laurie Johnson, thank you for all your support and enthusiasm in this first venture together. Thank you to my agent and cheerleader Gail Fortune for making it so I can keep on writing.

And a special acknowledgment to Sunita for lending me the research book from Washington University. The information within it has been priceless. I STILL haven’t returned it yet. I promise I will.

To my wonderful husband and two little twinlets

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Epilogue

CHAPTER ONE

Tang Dynasty China, 848 A.D.

WU KAIFENG LOOKED over the property from the street. For years it had been abandoned, the remnants from a fire that had raged through the capital city of Changan. Parts of the damaged area had been rebuilt, but not this building. Apparently, the two-story structure had once been a teahouse, but now it was nothing more than a hollow shell located just beyond the edge of the bustling East Market. Undesirable.

Yet he had passed by that same location every day for the past week. Where others saw only a ruin, Kaifeng saw something else. He saw possibilities. With his position as head constable, he was earning a humble, yet steady wage. Maybe it was time to stop wandering. The dark corners and alleyways of Changan hid so many secrets; they could hide him, as well.

The market gong sounded the Hour of the Goat. The afternoon was upon him and it was time to return from his rounds. Kaifeng set a path through the East Market, but was stopped by a man charging through the crowd, his clothes stained with blood.

The stranger brandished a cleaver as he chased a lanky youth down the street. All of the surrounding market-goers stepped aside, but Kaifeng moved forward to block the street. The fellow at the front staggered to avoid crashing into him. His eyes grew wide as he stared up at Kaifeng’s considerable height, then the black cap and robe of his uniform, then at the sword in his belt.

This mixture of shock and fear wasn’t uncommon. Constable Wu needed no special effort to appear menacing. He supposed it was a gift, given his position.

“I didn’t do anything!” the youth protested.

Kaifeng flicked his gaze over to the armed man who had come to a stop. He gestured with his knife. “He’s a thief, Constable.”

The bloodstained garment was an apron. The weapon, a meat cleaver. It was the local butcher, not some madman.

The young man, who was looking more and more like a half-starved boy, started babbling. “I was just walking in the street. He started chasing me with that knife. Of course I ran.”

“He took money from my counter.”

“I was never in your shop!”

Kaifeng let the arguments fly without responding. He could drag both the accused thief and the butcher before Magistrate Li and let him settle the matter, but the line of petitioners at the tribunal had wound around the offices like a snake earlier that day.

“Empty your pouch,” he directed.

The butcher stood by, cleaver lowered but still gripped menacingly as the boy showed the pouch at his belt and his sleeves to be empty. Kaifeng was not yet satisfied.

“Shoes.”

The youth hesitated before reaching to take off his left shoe. There were two copper coins lying inside.

“To keep from thieves,” he said sheepishly. “I earned that money unloading wagons in the market.”

“Liar,” the butcher accused through his teeth. “Those were the same coins from my shop.”

Kaifeng regarded both of them without blinking. The matter seemed a simple one. The boy was acting guilty. He protested too quickly and too loudly. He’d hidden his money. He was fidgeting as he spoke and was unable to keep his gaze steady.

If taken before the magistrate, the money would be confiscated and returned to the butcher, the boy given a beating with the light rod and then the matter dismissed afterward. It wasn’t a constable’s duty to mete justice, but no one would fault him for resolving this dispute and sending the thief away with a public beating. It was only two copper coins, after all.

But Kaifeng knew that two coins could very well mean the difference between a full belly and an empty one. A warm night or a cold one.

The supposed thief was shifting about, now with only one shoe on, the other foot bare and unwashed, looking all the more guilty—or perhaps it wasn’t guilt at all. Merely fear.

“Pick up the money,” Kaifeng instructed. “And put your shoe back on.”

The butcher started to protest, but Kaifeng told him to lead them back to his shop. The youth didn’t attempt to flee and he walked head down between the butcher and the constable as they went down the lane. Bystanders watched the parade curiously, but none came forward to offer any further insight into the incident. Typical of the imperial city. One’s business was one’s own.

The copper smell of blood met them at the far end of the lane. They passed by vendors selling live chickens and fish in baskets along the avenue. The butcher’s shop was one of the largest in this section of the market, though it was hidden away in the corner. It was a wooden shack, open in front so that the various cuts and portions could be visible from the street.

An assistant, likely the butcher’s son, was still busy at work. The shop was full of customers looking to purchase the day’s meal. The long wooden cutting block that served as counter was stained dark and scored, and there was an assortment of freshly butchered cuts on display.

“I work back there,” the butcher said. “Customers drop their payment here onto the block and I push all the money into this basket.”

So no one would have to touch hands with him. Butchery was an unsavory, yet profitable trade.

“We were busy like we are now and this thief shoved through the crowd and grabbed the coins from the counter before I could stop him.”

“I’m not a thief,” the youth protested sullenly. He looked like a convict awaiting execution. His shoulders were sunken and his face resigned. Being accused was enough to be condemned and he had both age and status against him.

Where the butcher was well-fed and a successful tradesman, the accused was thin in the face, his chin smooth and his body not yet broadened into manhood. His clothes had been carefully mended many times. He claimed to have labored in the market to earn his coins, which would have meant he had been hard at work since daybreak to earn so much so early in the day.

Kaifeng could have spent the rest of the day questioning merchants to confirm his story, but it would have been no use. In the sprawl of the East Market were too many wagons, too many merchants and too many boys just like this.

“Bring two bowls of fresh water,” Kaifeng told the butcher.

The butcher stared at him, put out by being ordered about. A constable was far from an appointed official and ranked no higher than a tradesman. Kaifeng stared back, unwavering. The butcher finally set down his cleaver and disappeared into the back of the shop. He returned a moment later with two clay bowls and set them onto the counter.

Kaifeng turned to the youth who still had his coppers clutched in his hand. “Put your coins into the first bowl.”

The boy did as he was told. The butcher as well as the other customers watched as the coins sank to the bottom. Kaifeng then instructed the butcher to take a few coins from his basket and drop them into the second bowl. As the coins fell into the water, streaks of grease and blood shimmered over the surface. The water in the first bowl remained clear.

“The coins belong to him, or rather, they never belonged to you,” Kaifeng declared, then turned to leave the shop.

“But I saw him!” the butcher protested.

“Your earnings have remnants of grease and blood from being on the butcher block. His cash is free of any such residue.”

The youth stuffed his coins into his pouch. He spared Kaifeng a nod of gratitude as he rushed from shop and scurried away.

“You saw someone,” Kaifeng said to the butcher. “But it wasn’t this boy. If I find the thief, I’ll take him to the magistrate. In the meantime, keep a closer watch on your money. Your carelessness invites thievery.”

* * *

THE TWO GUARDSMEN at the front gate of the magistrate’s yamen stood aside as Kaifeng approached. Their spears remained at their sides as he entered.

The compound contained the offices of the many clerks and functionaries who served the head magistrate. At the center of the yamen was the tribunal hall where petitioners and criminals alike knelt before the magistrate to await judgment. At the back were the dismal holding cells where the accused stayed to await either a hearing or execution.

The sun hung low in the late afternoon, casting long shadows over the courtyard. The tribunal appeared to have convened early, which was unusual. In the imperial capital there was always some dispute that needed to be resolved, regardless of the time of day.

Kaifeng went to the head magistrate’s office, but found the door closed and the shutters drawn. He knocked twice before entering.

“I apologize for my late arrival,” he began.

Li Yen caught Kaifeng’s eye from behind his desk and held up his hand in an impatient gesture. Magistrate Li was not alone at his desk. An official wearing a state robe and a stern expression sat opposite him.

It was that elder official who broke the silence. “I trust you will take care of the matter, Magistrate.”

With that, the official rose and bowed. Li did the same; his bow dipping below his visitor’s to denote his lower rank. Kaifeng supposed he should have bowed, as well, but the official didn’t pause to accept any such gesture of civility. He spared Kaifeng a disapproving glance as he brushed past.

Li invited him to sit. “This is not good news, Wu. That was a representative from the Ministry of Personnel on an unofficial visit.”

Kaifeng regarded him unblinking. “Unofficial?”

“He suggested that you be dismissed.”

The news struck him like a blow to the gut. Not only was it unexpected, it was irrational. Kaifeng lowered himself into a chair as he tried to collect his thoughts. “I’ve performed my duties without fail.”

“I know you have, Wu.” Li rubbed a hand over his temples, looking even more youthful in his bewilderment. “You’ve been exceptional. He gave no reason for this demand, only that there were others of more notable rank that were in agreement.”

“Why would anyone of rank even know of me?”

“It seems we’ve angered someone.”

Kaifeng kept his tone even. “Then I am no longer employed?”

Less than an hour ago, he had been dreaming of laying down roots in the city. Before coming to Changan, he had been scraping together a coin here and there. Then Li had offered him the position as head constable. Kaifeng had thought he could make a new life here.

Magistrate Li regarded him for a long time. “Who have you offended, Wu?”

“No one that I know of.”

“Are you certain?”

“Criminals feel accosted when they’re caught,” he offered. His was a hated position, without doubt.

Li snorted, then folded his hands before him while his brow furrowed in thought. The magistrate’s features were often described as boyish, which was not a compliment for someone of authority. He was famous for not only passing the imperial exams at an early age, but passing in the third spot. Apparently among the elite this was a source of bitterness and envy as much as admiration.

“You did not answer the question, Magistrate,” Kaifeng interrupted. “Am I to be dismissed?”

“No, of course not.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did so.”

“Dismissing you would be the same as cutting off my own hand. I need you, Wu. More important, I owe you a debt.”

“You know that debt was settled long ago, sir.”

They rarely spoke of the incident that had first brought them together. They spoke no more of it now.

“What if this current demand is not to target you, but to attack me?” Li posed. “I certainly have more enemies than you do on my name alone.”

“There was the case with the slave trading ring last year,” Kaifeng suggested. “There were enough people involved for us to offend someone. A lot of dirtied hands.”

A murder had turned into two murders which had turned into a conspiracy.

“You may have something there, Constable. The case was resolved, but perhaps not to everyone’s satisfaction. Such political games are a consequence of living in the capital. Be careful, Wu. Someone wants both of us removed.”

Li Yen was a good read of people and situations, but only of the sort of people and situations he knew very intimately—those of the scholarly elite. Magistrate Li was at a loss when it came to commoners and life among the lanes and alleys. It made their partnership a balanced one. Apparently it took knowledge of politics and the street to survive in this city.

CHAPTER TWO

MINGYU LAID HER head back and let the evening breeze flow over her cheeks as the carriage rolled forward. The air was cool and calming in the final hour before dusk. Drums beat in rhythm throughout the quarter to signal the closing of the official city markets. It was time for merchants to close shop, for city dwellers to make their final purchases and return home.

The silence afterward was a resting period before the drinking houses set out their lanterns and the banquets began. For now, the streets were dim and vacant and Mingyu could watch the pattern of the trees against the buildings.

Summer was gone and autumn was here. The celebration banquet season was over and now began the time when graduates of the imperial exams vied for official assignments. The parties at this time were more intimate affairs where introductions and connections could be made.

“You are beautiful tonight, Elder Sister.”

Little Hong’s eyes glowed with admiration as she looked covetously over Mingyu’s silk robe and the jewels in her hair. The girl was eleven years of age that year, a good time as any to begin her training. They were sisters by profession, not blood. Both of them belonged to the same foster mother.

“Are we going far tonight?” Hong asked.

“Not far. The gathering is at a public garden in the northern part of the ward.”

“Will there be many gentlemen there?”

“Yes.”

Little Hong brightened. “Distinguished scholars? Men of high rank?”

“Of course.”

Little Hong leaned over, looking left and right to try to take in the sights around them. They had just left the main section of the Pingkang li, where most of the pleasure houses were located and where the two of them resided.

“Be mindful of the pipa,” Mingyu said gently when she saw how the girl had the strings pressed against the side of the carriage. “The guests will be very disappointed if I cannot play tonight.”

“Oh, yes! I’m sorry, Elder Sister.”

Hong settled back down into her seat, cradling the instrument in her lap. To the girl, this trip must have seemed like freedom. The courtesans of the Lotus Palace were only allowed to leave if hired out for an event or by special permission.

Mingyu had been in her place once, but it seemed so long ago. Now she was part of the cycle, training another girl into the life: bondage and servitude on one side, poetry and music on the other.

Shops and buildings flowed by on either side of them like an endless river. Mingyu closed her eyes again only to be jolted forward when the carriage lurched to a stop. Little Hong yelped beside her and clutched the pipa to her chest. As they righted themselves, Mingyu could hear the driver yelling at someone.

A boy dressed in ill-fitting rags crouched beside the front wheel. He whimpered as the driver shouted.

“What are you doing, boy? Get out of the street!” The driver made a threatening motion with his crop, but the child remained in the dirt with his hands clutched around his knee.

“Uncle.” Mingyu deliberately used the familiar honorific to address the driver. “Uncle, the boy is terrified.”

“Don’t be fooled, Miss. This street scum is just playing the victim.” He glared back at the boy. “Get up, runt.”

“Are you hurt, child?” She rose to step down from the carriage, holding the edge of her robe away from the dirt as she bent down.

“Be careful,” the driver warned from behind her. “He looks ready to snatch your purse.”

The boy looked nothing of the sort. He stared up at Mingyu with eyes as large as quail eggs. There was a smudge of dirt across one cheek and his bottom lip trembled.

At that moment, an ominous shadow fell over Mingyu, engulfing both her and the child.

“The carriage driver is right. The boy is pretending.”

The deep gravel of the voice set the hairs of her neck on edge. Mingyu let her mask fall in place before straightening to greet the newcomer.

“Constable Wu.”

“Lady Mingyu.”

She hated to be seen lowered before anyone, most of all this demon. His skin was bronzed from being out in the sun like a common laborer and his demeanor was darker still, black as night. Wu Kaifeng towered head and shoulders over her, as he did over everyone in the quarter. Most found him intimidating, but her reaction was much more alarming. She had been drawn to him from her very first sight of the constable. Wu was not a man to be ignored and certainly not a man who could be wooed simply by her beauty or reputation.

When Mingyu had been imprisoned over a year ago on suspicion of murder, Wu had been her jailer. Though she was cleared of any wrongdoing, she’d never forgotten his bleak expression as he’d questioned her or his unyielding touch as he’d bound her hands.

Mingyu tilted her chin up to meet his eyes, refusing to show any fear of him now. “Thank you for your assistance, Constable, but it won’t be needed. Unless you wish to arrest this child for being unfortunate enough to be injured by our carriage.”

“The boy is lying,” Wu repeated. “I saw him hiding on this very corner the other day, watching as you drove by.”

She turned toward the urchin. “Can you stand?”

Mingyu offered her hand, but the boy shook his head feverishly and struggled to his feet by himself.

A wagon carrying baskets of produce had to veer to the side while their carriage was stopped in the middle of the road. Mingyu ignored it and focused on the poor creature in front of her.

“Where are your father and mother?”

“You are very kind, Miss,” he murmured.

The driver snorted loudly.

“He’s luring you in,” Wu Kaifeng stated.

Funny that the constable would assume she was naive. Mingyu had grown up in this quarter. It was her domain and she wasn’t sheltered from the realities of the crowded capital. She knew what her life would have been if Madame Sun hadn’t purchased her and provided for her. There was the street or the brothel.

Maintaining her pleasant expression, Mingyu opened the drawstring on her silk bag and fished out a few coins to press into the boy’s hand. “Be careful, little one. Go home now.”

The little rat at least affected a slight limp as he ran off into the alley.

“He’s on the next street over now, begging coins out of another soft-heart.” Wu wasn’t smug or snide or superior as he said it. He was just as he was—hard and without emotion.

“No one has ever accused me of being soft-hearted, Constable.” She faced him to make sure she had his full attention. “I know that boy was watching me the other day. I also know he wasn’t the only one watching.”

Wu Kaifeng started at her insinuation, but recovered quickly. His expression became once again impenetrable.

Indeed, she had also seen the constable at the roadside stand, staring at her with something akin to interest. No, that wasn’t possible. More like a bird of prey sighting a mouse. Her pulse had quickened at the single glimpse.

“Of course, the constable must believe that he’s entitled to stare for as long as he pleases,” Mingyu taunted. “Everyone else seems to think so, as if I were a painting on the wall.”

“It’s difficult to look at you,” he admitted with a bluntness that stole her breath.

“Meaning?” she asked.

His gaze remained focused on her face, but an odd light flickered in his eyes. Reflexively, her hand flew to her throat before she caught herself. It was a bad habit, a show of weakness.

Curling her fingers tight, Mingyu let the hand drop to her side. “If there’s nothing else.”

She didn’t realize until she spoke that her throat had gone dry. She was almost to the carriage when Wu stopped her.

“There is—”

She turned around.

“—something else,” he finished, his speech off rhythm by just enough to make her uneasy.

He was the one who was difficult to look at. His face lacked any refinement. Wu Kaifeng wasn’t ugly—he was more like a puzzle that didn’t quite fit together. There was no harmony to him, no sense of balance. Wu was long in the face, broad in the nose. The eyes were black and hard and unwavering. A sharp jawline framed his hard mouth, a mouth that she had never seen smile. Yet when all of those features were put together, they created a picture that was inexplicably striking.

“Someone wishes to have me dismissed,” he began.

“What could that possibly have to do with me?”

“You do not like me.”

She didn’t disagree.

“Most of the people I deal with are people from the streets—beggars, thieves, the poor stealing from the poor,” Wu continued. “Those who are caught doing wrong do not dare to bear a grudge, but you—”

“I was found innocent,” she interrupted.

“Your actions were not condemned,” he corrected. “It occurs to me that many of your patrons are men of rank and influence.”

Mingyu laughed in disbelief. “You think I’m out to destroy you by complaining to my lovers?”

The corners of his mouth tightened at her mention of lovers and Mingyu felt a small triumph at being able to pierce his armored shell.

“You needn’t worry, Constable,” she assured, her voice as soft as the breeze. “You must imagine after all that has occurred between us that I stay up late at night, bearing a grudge and plotting your downfall.”

She continued toward the carriage, feeling his gaze on her the entire way. Once she was seated, Mingyu was able to look down upon him from higher ground to deliver her final message. “But why would I waste any time thinking of you at all?”

CHAPTER THREE

MINGYU HELD HER sleeve back with one hand as she poured the hot water into the bowl. Keeping her eyes lowered, she washed and warmed each of the porcelain cups before setting them back onto the tray. A group of four scholars watched her as she performed the tea ritual in so many little perfect steps, all in sequence.

She liked the ritual. For once, her parlor was quiet. There were no voices competing for attention; reciting the classics or a newly composed verse of poetry as they tried to emerge as the cleverest. For once, she didn’t have to speak, either. She didn’t have to smile or laugh or exchange furtive glances.

All she had to do was follow the ritual, concentrate on the breaking of the tea brick into the pot, the washing of the cups, the pouring of the tea. The ceremony was sacred to the scholar-gentlemen who frequented the Lotus Palace. They had all read the Classic of Tea and aspired to cultivate the thoughtfulness and meditative state that only tea could bring about. Wine was for the freeing of the spirit. Tea was for focusing it.

She placed a cup within reach of each of the visitors. There was a department head from the Ministry of Defense as well as a ranking captain of the city garrison. Though a soldier, he was indistinguishable here from any other gentleman. The remaining two were hopefuls seeking placement after passing the civil exams.

The men took their cups in both hands and drank in reverent silence. Mingyu folded her hands in her lap and kept her gaze lowered. She didn’t drink with them. She was an implement in this ritual, like the clay teapot or the cups.

She almost dreaded the moment the most senior member of the party would finish his cup and break the silence. It was easy being a silent fixture. Almost freeing.

“Ah, so serious!”

All heads turned at once toward the entrance. A figure had emerged through the curtain, handsome and youthful in appearance with his characteristic grin on his face.

“Am I too late to join?” Bai Huang asked.

“My lord.” Mingyu was less than warm in her greeting.

“Jinshi.” The senior patrons acknowledged him with a bow and the two hopefuls looked on in awe.

Even if they didn’t recognize Bai’s name, they recognized the significance of his robe. Only scholars who had passed the highest level of the palace exams were allowed the honor of wearing those robes.

Mingyu, for her part, was not impressed. She rose as the nobleman started to engage the officials in conversation. “Lord Bai,” she began, smoothly linking her arm around his. “Madame Sun is expecting you.”

Bai Huang laughed and made his apologies about stumbling into the wrong room as she led him back out through the curtain. That was one of the privileges of being yiji, an elite courtesan. The gentlemen of the quarter tolerated her impertinence. At times, they even revered it.

“You are looking particularly beautiful today,” Lord Bai drawled.

“As beautiful as my sister?” she replied archly.

Lord Bai had married her younger sister—her real sister—Yue-ying at the end of the spring, not long after the new slate of imperial scholars had been announced. It was debatable which was more shocking, that Bai Huang, the notorious flower prince of the Pingkang li, had passed the exams or that he had taken a lowly servant with no name to speak of as his wife soon after.

“That is impossible to say, Lady Mingyu. It would be like comparing the sun and the moon.”

Bai Huang might be an imperial scholar, but he was still a fool. Or at least he attempted to play one in the pleasure quarter.

“I know why you’re here,” she told him firmly. “It’s the same reason you’ve been hovering around me for the last year.”

“Like a bee to a sweet flower,” he recited.

She released his arm and shoved him the last part of the way into the hall. “Insufferable.”

He regained his balance with hardly any effort and turned back to her. His grin faded and was replaced with a serious expression. “Did Yue-ying tell you?”

“She didn’t have to tell me.” Mingyu stood like a sentinel blocking the passage back to the parlor. “I knew your attention had to have some other purpose. You were only here seeking information.”

His gaze darted over her shoulder to assure they were alone. “There are rumors about General Deng. If there’s any truth to them, you don’t want to be associated with him.”

“I’m already associated with the general. He’s my highest-ranking patron and a most kind and generous man.” There. She had even managed to say it without making a face. “I will not allow you to spy on him any longer, or on me.”

“I hear Deng is arriving in the capital tomorrow. Has he arranged a meeting with you?”

She regarded Bai Huang blankly, saying nothing, revealing nothing.

“If I could speak with him in private,” he suggested.

“Please forgive me, Lord Bai. I’m merely a humble courtesan, not capable of providing what you require.”

Her expression remained pleasant and unassuming, but it was an unmistakable challenge.

Finally Bai sighed. “Be careful, Mingyu.”

“I always am.”

“You’re not.” His sharp look reminded her that she had spent a long time underestimating him. “You’re not careful when your heart is involved.”

His words sent a pang through her chest. “How is Yue-ying?”

Bai Huang’s expression softened. “She’s well. She misses you.”

Mingyu shook her head. She didn’t want to hear of it. She and Bai Huang were now related by marriage, though no one in the Bai family would recognize her as such. Mingyu preferred it that way. It was better for Yue-ying that she start her new life without the shadow of the past hanging over her.

“Tell her not to be sentimental. And to drink the tea I sent to her and...and take good care of her.”

“I will.”

They exchanged bows. Mingyu had been too long away from her guests already, but she took a moment longer to watch as Lord Bai retreated down the stairs. Her sister was fortunate to have found a good man to protect her.

There was a time when Mingyu had been young and vying for notoriety. She had dreamed of catching the attention of a gentleman like that, but she’d since learned that it was better to rely on her own skills for protection. Mingyu’s heart had left the quarter when her sister had left. What remained was her warrior self, which was more than capable of handling Lord Bai, General Deng and any man who sought to challenge or possess her.

* * *

“WHAT DID THE foolhardy Lord Bai wish to speak to you about, hmm?” Madame Sun sat back upon the settee and ran a manicured fingertip along the arm.

“You know how he is,” Mingyu replied absently. She busied her hands with stacking the teacups and implements back onto the tray. “This and that. Nothing of importance.”

Madame snorted. “He isn’t trying to redeem you like he did your sister, is he? He may be from a high-ranking family, but from what I hear, he’s failed to secure an appointment. He doesn’t have the money to afford my Mingyu.”

Everything was always a transaction with Madame. She was the headmistress of the Lotus Palace and foster mother to all the girls who resided there, which meant they were all indentured to her.

“I wouldn’t go with him even if he had the money,” Mingyu replied. “He is already married to my sister. Procuring me would only lead to scandal.”

“And you have more freedom here than you would ever have as a servant in a rich man’s house,” Madame added.

“Of course.” Mingyu was ever so obedient and practical. “Here we control our own fate.”

Those were Madame’s favorite words. She’d taught them to Mingyu just as she’d taught her how to play music and dance and look at a man in a way that would make him wonder. And want.

“A courier came by today on behalf of General Deng to deliver four bolts of the finest silk and a hundred taels of silver. A gift to the Lotus Palace.”

“Payment,” Mingyu corrected.

Madame Sun waved a hand, as if to say gift, payment, money—they were all the same. “He must be eager to see you. The Lotus will miss you while you’re gone.”

“How long did the contract specify?”

“At least a week, my girl. He must really be in love with you.”

Mingyu snorted, a mannerism she realized she’d adopted from her den mother, along with the same willowy figure, high cheekbones and expressive eyes Mingyu had become known for. The two of them were mirror images of one another in so many ways.

“The general doesn’t want to bother with the games of courtship, that’s all.” Mingyu reached to gather a stray teacup from the low table.

Deng Zhi was twenty years her senior. He had been stationed in the capital and an important figure in the previous Emperor’s court when Mingyu had first encountered him. She had managed to catch his interest at a banquet, but the general hadn’t bothered to court her with pretty words or gifts. He’d gone directly to Madame Sun the next day to negotiate an exclusive price.

“This is a good opportunity for us!” Madame had whispered to Mingyu as she guided her to the bed chamber where the general waited.

Always “us.” There was no Mingyu. There was Madame and there was the Lotus Palace and everything that Mingyu earned went to the house except for the personal gifts and small allowances she stashed away at the bottom of her wardrobe. It would be that way until she was able to pay off her debt.

“Wait.” Madame stopped Mingyu as she was about to carry the tea tray away. “Let me see.”

Dramatically, the headmistress poured the last dregs from a teapot into a cup and peered at the flecks of tea leaf. “You are about to face a decision. A great temptation.”

Mingyu sighed. “Mother.”

“If General Deng asks you to be his concubine once more, you must refuse,” Madame Sun instructed.

“I know. At least three times to drive the price up.”

Madame nodded with approval. “Good girl. But of course, we must make no mention of price. That would insinuate that we are open for negotiation. Let me be the villainess here. Your greedy den mother refuses to let you go.”

“Even though I hold him in the highest of regard,” Mingyu intoned.

“You think of him every day even though you know you must not,” Madame Sun suggested.

Mingyu had to smile. “Mother, you are a master.”

Madame patted her hair, visibly preening. “Experience, my daughter. Years and years of experience.”

Though they called each other mother and daughter, Mingyu never forgot the truth. She had a true mother once. Her birth mother had sold her and her sister for a small handful of coins. Madame Sun, her foster mother, would never let her go for so little. At twenty-eight, Mingyu had spent more of her life in the Lotus Palace than she had in the village of her birth.

“Is that your plan?” Mingyu asked somberly. “Once the price is high enough, you’ll negotiate a deal to sell me off to General Deng?”

“I would never do that!” Madame insisted fervently. Her hand was pressed to her bosom to express the depth of her emotion. “You’re mine, Mingyu. Like my own daughter, worth more than all the gold in the capital.”

General Deng’s payments over the past fifteen years had only bought Mingyu’s time, not her person. And Madame Sun had been generous enough to grant Mingyu a portion of her earnings, enough to finally redeem her sister, Yue-ying.

As much as Mingyu owed Deng, she had breathed a long, deep sigh the day he’d finally left Changan to serve as military governor in a remote province. Whenever Deng returned to the city, there was no question that Mingyu was to return to his side. She prepared for it as if preparing for battle.

“Do you wish to go?” Madame asked her.

“I would never leave you,” Mingyu replied, equally emphatic. She touched a reassuring hand to the headmistress’s arm. “The Lotus Palace is my home.”

Madame Sun regarded her with a sharp eye, trying to pierce through the illusion created by silk and jewels and powder. Perhaps they both lied to one another. Perhaps they both knew it.

CHAPTER FOUR

IN THE DAYS after his brief exchange with Mingyu there were no more visits, official or unofficial, and no more talk of dismissal. Kaifeng continued with his duties as prescribed, but remained on guard. When a scraggly figure appeared at the end of the street during his morning patrol, Kaifeng’s defenses were immediately raised.

The boy was panting when he came to a stop before Kaifeng. “Are you Constable Wu?”

“Yes,” he replied warily.

“Come quick.”

Kaifeng remained where he was, staring down at the street rat. The child would have to be a bold one to try to lure an armed constable into some trap. The boy paled beneath his scrutiny. “Please, sir.”

Kaifeng started toward him, but the boy turned to weave through the pedestrians.

“What is this?” Wu demanded, following easily with his long stride.

The boy shook his head and kept on moving, twisting through alleyways and side streets as he led Kaifeng farther away from the main market. Just north of the walls was a residential area dotted with small tea stands. They passed by a public bathhouse and a local temple on the corner.

Finally the boy came to a stop at a wooden gate. “Here, sir.”

It was clear that he didn’t intend to enter and Kaifeng once again considered the possibility of a trap. The gate was plain and unmarked. Kaifeng pushed it open to reveal a small, empty courtyard graced by a single willow tree. Its branches dipped to form a canopy over the space. The interior of the house was still and quiet.

Kaifeng didn’t reach for his sword, but he made sure his hands were ready as he entered the courtyard. The walking path was laid with stone and kept tidy. There was one entrance into the main part of the house and Kaifeng ducked beneath the doorway to find himself inside a spacious room.

Light filtered in from the courtyard. The first thing he saw was a desk in the corner, followed by a violent splatter of red. It took a moment for his mind to register it. Blood.

“I found him like that.”

He spun around at the voice. Lady Mingyu was pressed into the corner beside the window. Her usually sensual voice came out thin and strained. She looked entirely different from when he’d last seen her. Her lips had been tinted red and her complexion was moon pale in contrast, giving her an unearthly appearance. Even scared out of her wits, she presented a vision.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

She shook her head, though her eyes appeared dull. She clutched a silk handkerchief in her hand as if her life depended on it.

Kaifeng left her in the corner to approach the desk. At his first glimpse of the scene, his mind had receded. His natural instincts refused to accept or understand that what he was seeing was real, but he forced himself to look closely now.

There was a body seated in the chair dressed in a brocade robe. The head was missing and there was blood everywhere, splattered over the papers and staining the floor and walls.

“He was alive when they took off his head,” Kaifeng observed.

A gasp came from behind him. Mingyu was staring at him incredulously. Then her gaze returned to the headless body. If she could have disappeared into the wall, she would have.

“Do you wish to be elsewhere?” he asked.

A strangled sound escaped her lips, halfway between a cry and a laugh. Finally she nodded.

Kaifeng spared one final glance at the body, noting its position and taking quick stock of the surrounding items, before going to Mingyu’s side. He didn’t know if he should reach for her, but she seemed unable to move or look away. Taking a firm, yet careful grip on her arm, he directed Mingyu toward the door. After a moment’s resistance, she surrendered and went with him.

Once outside in the sunlight, her knees gave away. Kaifeng caught her in both hands. Mingyu’s soft weight momentarily sank against him, but she shoved him away to sink onto a wooden bench beneath the willow. He stood back while she struggled to find her breath. This was the Lady Mingyu he’d come to know—stubborn and determined not to show any sign of weakness.

“Who is that inside?” he asked.

“General Deng Zhi.” Her voice wavered despite her efforts. “He had just returned to the capital.”

“The general is your lover?”

She looked like she was about to break into pieces. “Not any longer.”

If what Mingyu said was true, one of the most highly ranked men in the empire had been killed not twenty paces from where he stood. He had to investigate the details of the death and report his findings to the magistrate immediately.

He looked down to Mingyu. “Did you send that boy to find me?”

She nodded, her hand trailing to her throat. Some of her color had returned, but she was far from composed.

“Do not leave this house,” he commanded. “If you flee now, I will have to consider you suspect in this murder.”

“If I wanted to run away, I wouldn’t have called you here,” she said irritably. Pressing the handkerchief to her nose, Mingyu presented him the hard point of her shoulder. “And I know that you consider me suspect, anyway.”

Her directness caught him off guard. If he knew anything about Mingyu, it was that she was unpredictable. After making sure she wouldn’t faint or lose her stomach, Kaifeng returned to the chamber.

He had seen death before. He’d witnessed it in battle as well as at public executions. The macabre scene was in many ways more shocking now than it had been on first sight. This time, Kaifeng noted the minute details he’d overlooked before. The body had fallen back against the chair and remained sitting. The neck protruded in a bloody stump. The headless torso seemed to be reclined comfortably in the chair, his last pose before leaving this world.

It was hard to believe a fighting man like Deng wouldn’t have managed to stand and defend himself in any way.

The blow had to have come from the front with the attacker facing the general. He noted the splatter around the chair and desk, and the lurid, metallic smell of fresh blood assaulted him. Gritting his teeth, Kaifeng walked around the desk and searched the floor. There was no head or murder weapon to be found.

Glancing up, Kaifeng could see Mingyu out in the garden. She remained on the bench where he’d left her with her head bowed. The position emphasized the graceful curve of her neck and the slenderness of her shoulders, making her appear vulnerable through the frame of the door.

Her robe was made up of shimmering layers of yellow silk and gold embroidery. The bodice was enticingly low, leaving her shoulders bared except for a shawl of the thinnest gauze wrapped around her. She had certainly come ready to visit a lover. His stomach twisted at the thought.

Her mere presence distracted him and he couldn’t allow that to happen. This was his duty and his calling and he needed to remain sharp to solve this puzzle, a puzzle that the courtesan was inexplicably a part of. A puzzle that Mingyu was making more complicated.

Kaifeng returned to the courtyard and breathed in the clean air, letting it fill his lungs and clear his head. Lady Mingyu didn’t raise her head even when he went to stand immediately before her. The pearl ornament in her hairpin caught his eye. A similar piece of jewelry had implicated her in another murder a year earlier.

“Once again I find you connected to a dead body,” he said.

“I know how this must seem.”

Mingyu wouldn’t look up at him as she spoke. It could be a sign of guilt, but it could be a sign of many things. She had belonged to the general and everyone in the Pingkang li had known it. Was she grieving for him now? Or had she somehow been involved in his death?

“I must notify Magistrate Li and summon my men to come retrieve the general’s body. Then you will need to come with me for questioning.”

“Of course, Constable.”

Her head tilted back slowly as if it were weighted down with lead. When she met his gaze, her eyes were fathomless. “I knew you would track me down regardless. That was why I sought you out.” Yellow silk whispered around her as she rose. “To save us both the trouble.”

* * *

MINGYU REMAINED BENEATH the shade of the willow tree as Constable Wu sent for a prison wagon to transport the body. When the other constables arrived, he instructed them to seal off the front gate and begin a search of the surrounding area. He was undaunted and efficient, an inhuman force, as if he had seen death a hundred times before.

By the time Wu Kaifeng came for her, Mingyu had stopped shaking. As she followed the constable into the street, she pulled her shawl tight around her shoulders even though the midmorning sun rose high in the sky. The chill that encased her came from within. It couldn’t be banished by the thickest of cloaks.

A covered litter was waiting outside the gate. Four bearers sprang to their feet and moved into position beside the poles while Mingyu glanced at Wu in surprise. He’d summoned transportation for her rather than requiring that she ride in the prison wagon. The gesture provided her with a measure of privacy and could have been considered thoughtful. Wu said nothing of it as he drew aside the curtain for her.

Mingyu climbed inside the compartment and the curtain fell over the front, shielding her away from the world. The litter then rose, hefted onto the shoulders of the bearers outside, and Mingyu let her head sink onto her hands.

Deng Zhi was dead.

She didn’t know what to feel. The general had been her patron for so long that it was impossible not to feel an emptiness in her chest. The general had been invincible in her eyes. Untouchable even by the Emperor.

Deng had barely spoken a word to her the first time she’d come to his bed. She hadn’t been a virgin, but she was young. Mingyu had been afraid there would be pain, that the general would be rough. All things considered, he hadn’t been careless with her, but Deng had held his hand over her throat the entire time, with her pulse beating frantically beneath his hand.

Deng had wanted no doubt in her mind that he owned her. Whenever he returned to the city, she still felt the weight of that hand, ready to bestow life or take it crushingly away.

And now she was free of him, but what did that freedom truly mean? Mingyu pulled aside the curtain to peer outside. Wu Kaifeng walked alongside the litter, his long stride keeping pace easily with the carriers.

Wu’s focus was on the road ahead, but he must have possessed the instincts of a wolf. He turned and caught her watching him. His expression was grim.

“We will arrive shortly, Lady Mingyu.”

The litter turned down a side street and stopped at the western entrance of a large gated compound with walls built of rammed earth hardened into stone. Wu Kaifeng bent to help her from the litter, offering a hand which she pointedly avoided. Without a word, Wu withdrew it, letting his arm fall to his side.

“I had hoped to never come back here,” she said, staring at the guardsmen stationed at either side of the entrance.

“Death seems to follow you.”

A shudder ran down her spine. “What an awful thing to say.”

“I apologize, then.”

Along with his wolf’s instincts, he had the manners of some wild creature. Wu Kaifeng unnerved her. He always had, from the first moment she’d seen him. The constable looked at everyone around him as if he would expose all of their secrets, but she had to trust him now.

Mingyu didn’t know who had killed General Deng or why, but she knew that this was Wu’s domain and he wouldn’t let anything happen to her until he uncovered the truth.

She entered the compound under his charge, with Wu walking slightly behind. At every step, she was aware of his considerable height towering over her. There was a quiet fierceness in the way he held himself, as if Wu Kaifeng feared nothing in this world or beyond it. His intimidating presence was an odd comfort at the moment. Whoever had conspired against General Deng, whoever might also mean her harm, couldn’t reach her while Wu stood watch.

The yamen guards raised their spears and stepped aside as they passed. She could feel their gazes raking over her while she kept her head held high. Everyone who was brought here was assumed to be a criminal. Even those who had been wronged were considered tainted.

It had been a year since Wu had led her through this very entrance. She clenched her hands to keep them from shaking and tension gathered in her shoulders as he approached the dark corridor where the accused were locked in prison cells to await trial.

She remembered that forsaken hallway from her one night in captivity. There were no windows and the floors were hard and unforgiving, made of packed dirt. The cells were barely larger than a closet. She had been cold and hungry and alone in the dark except for Wu Kaifeng who remained to await her confession.

The constable directed her past the corridor to another door that she recognized. The interrogation room.

Mingyu stopped cold. Her feet refused to move farther while her heart pounded as if it would punch through her chest. It was a mistake to go to him. She had been locked inside that room with Wu once before. What made her think he was any more forgiving now?

Wu paused with his hand against the wooden frame. His face was turned away, but tension gathered in his shoulders before he took a step back. Without a word, he continued on.

A moment later, she found herself in a more welcoming room lined with shelves and cabinets. A desk stood near the window and Wu sat her down on a stool while he gathered a writing box and scroll.

“Am I under arrest?” she asked.

Instead of answering, Wu positioned himself behind the desk facing her. Anyone else would have given her some indication of what was to come, either reassure or threaten her, but Wu Kaifeng did neither. He took his time grinding the ink stick down and mixing it with water before unrolling the scroll.

“When did you go to see General Deng?” he began.

“This morning. I left the Lotus immediately after the gong for the Snake Hour sounded.”

“He was expecting you?”

“Yes.”

After setting a stone weight at each corner of the paper, Wu lifted the brush and began recording her answers.

“Payment was sent to Madame Sun yesterday,” she continued. “The instructions in his letter were very clear when I was to arrive. I was to be his companion exclusively for the week.”

Wu paused and his fingers tightened momentarily over the brush before continuing. “And you had gone to that same house in the past to see him?”

“He owns the place. General Deng would hold gatherings and private meetings there.”

“Were you invited to these gatherings, as well?”

“One needs entertainment at such affairs.”

She tried to remain as calm as possible, but her throat was painfully dry. These were ordinary questions really, one any lawman might ask. She had expected this when she’d put herself at Wu Kaifeng’s mercy. What she hadn’t expected was how his demeanor had changed toward her. The difference was subtle, but it was there. She’d sensed it when Wu had approached her the other day. The events of the past had created a connection between them that remained unresolved. It was fate. Yuán fèn.

Wu kept his head bent as he transcribed her words onto the paper. His profile was rugged and his expression completely focused. His characters emerged in tight, efficient columns with little space in between them.

The scholar-gentlemen of the North Hamlet worshipped the art of writing. A practitioner’s technique and posture were supposed to reveal his character, how patient and cultured he was. Wu Kaifeng held the writing brush like a barbarian, without any technique or refinement. It was merely a tool in his hands, the same way a shovel or a pick served a peasant laborer.

“Isn’t that task usually performed by a clerk?” She indicated the scroll with a nod of her head.

“My writing should be passable.”

“Where did you study?”

“My father taught me.” He paused for an uncomfortable space of time. “My foster father,” he amended.

“Was he a constable, as well?”

“A physician.”

Mingyu knew she was stalling. It made her feel better to have him talking. Wu seemed quite civil in conversation. It was when he remained deathly quiet that he seemed to be judging her.

“You didn’t keep such meticulous records the first time we conversed,” she ventured.

“You weren’t saying very much.”

His hand continued inking the report onto the paper while they spoke.

“You were being unpleasant,” she reminded him.

“It was my duty.”

“To be unpleasant?”

Mingyu thought she caught the corners of his mouth tightening and her pulse jumped. It was dangerous for her to taunt him. Like throwing stones at a tiger in a bamboo cage.

But something had happened the last time they were here. Something that she had never told anyone because she couldn’t understand it herself. It had weighed heavily on her mind before seeking Wu out that morning.

“I have many other tasks to see to. If we could continue,” he said stiffly. She wasn’t the only one affected by their exchange. “When was the last time Deng summoned you?”

“Over a year ago. General Deng hasn’t returned to the city since before Emperor Xuānzong took the throne.”

“Not until now.”

“Not until now,” she echoed.

He met her eyes directly. “I recall you were shameless about using Deng’s name for your own purposes while he was away.”

If Wu was waiting for her to flinch, then he would be disappointed. “Sometimes exploiting a man’s power is the only influence a woman can wield.”

His gaze narrowed on her before moving on to more additional questions.

“What happened when you arrived at the house?”

“There was no one at the gate. I went inside and saw...saw exactly what you saw.” She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth as a wave of nausea churned her stomach. “There was blood everywhere.”

“Did you approach the body or get close to him in any way?”

She shook her head. “I ran out into the street and found someone to fetch you.”

“Deng was no longer alive when you came into the room?”

“No.”

“And there was no one else in the house. You didn’t see or hear anyone?”

She recalled this approach from the last interrogation. Wu Kaifeng would ask every question two or three different ways, looking for inconsistencies in her answers.

“There was no one,” she said evenly.

He was writing again, the report flowing neatly from the tip of his brush. From a quick glance, he was recording her words exactly as she spoke them without embellishment or interpretation. When he looked up again, his gaze pierced her.

“Did you kill the general?”

Mingyu stared at him, startled by his bluntness. “Do you think I could have cut a man’s head off?”

“No.”

She started to relax, but it was too soon.

“Not personally,” Wu amended. “But you could have had it done. You have a way of getting others to do your bidding, Lady Mingyu. Of wielding influence, as you called it.”

“Then why would I want to be rid of General Deng? I have everything to lose and nothing to gain from his death.”

“Sometimes there is no reason.”

Some unnamable emotion flickered in his eyes, but she was unable to catch it. Mingyu was skilled at reading a man’s desires. Not only when it came to lust or sensual pleasure, but other desires, as well. The desire for notoriety, for respect, for achievement. The pleasure quarter was there to feed into all of them. Maybe she couldn’t read Wu Kaifeng because he had no desires. He was as dark and fathomless inside as on the outside.

“I am telling the truth,” she insisted as calmly as she could. “Remember that I was the one who came to you.”

“As you did last time. You are a strategist, Lady Mingyu. You like to control the board.”

There was no denying that. Better to know the positions on the battlefield, even if it put her at the mercy of someone as heartless as Wu Kaifeng. Fighting blind was the worst disadvantage of all.

“Why come to me?” he demanded. “Why not one of your many protectors? You despise me, Lady Mingyu.”

She was taken aback. “I don’t despise you.”

It was a horrible mistake going to Wu. He was suspicious of everything and everyone. She should have known he would tear her apart, just like this, but she’d been scared and alone.

“If you were so frightened, why did you wait for me in that house?” he challenged. “Weren’t you afraid the murderer could have still been nearby?”

“You were the only person I knew I could trust.”

Mingyu regretted the confession as soon as she’d made it. He reared up and leaned onto the writing table to loom over her.

“What game are you playing?” His quiet tone held a warning.

Instinctively, Mingyu shrank back. “There is no game.”

“I’m the last man you should trust. You and I both know why.”

She had no choice but to lay out all the pieces between them, which meant uncovering the past. The first time Wu had interrogated her, he’d taken out six bamboo sticks and laced them between her fingers. He’d held her hand still in his own as he completed the task, a gesture that was grotesquely intimate.

Each time she’d refused to answer, he would tighten the string around the sticks, crushing her knuckles against the bamboo. Mingyu had tried to bite her tongue, to refuse to beg, but it had been useless.

The entire process had been conducted with cold precision. Wu Kaifeng watched her suffer without a hint of emotion on his face, but then the pain stopped without explanation. The questioning came to an abrupt halt, as well.

“Why did you spare me that night?” she asked him now.

For the first time, Wu was the one to look away. “You were not going to reveal anything, even under torture.”

Mingyu hadn’t been so certain of it. Tears had flooded her eyes while her screams echoed off the walls of the barren cell.

Wu Kaifeng was the man who had done that to her. No one came to her defense. For all the compliments and praise that scholars bestowed upon her, she was still nothing more than a diversion. Admired in passing fashion like the brightness of a full moon, beautiful in one moment, easily forgotten in the next.

“I would have never expected you to be the merciful type, Constable.”

“It wasn’t mercy on my part.” He rose to his feet, forcing her to crane her neck to meet his eyes. They were black and unreadable, as always. “You may go now.”

“You aren’t going to put me in chains?”

Wu, perhaps finding the question unnecessary, didn’t answer. Instead, he busied his hands with the writing implements, setting them carefully aside and then lifting the report to make sure the ink had dried.

She stood to leave, but stopped at the door. They were separated by the span of the room, giving her space to breathe. Wu’s presence was too overwhelming when he was beside her.

“I hated you for a long time, Constable. I hated you for rendering me helpless. For seeing me at my most vulnerable.”

“I took no pleasure in it,” he assured her.

“This is far from over, isn’t it?”

“There will be an imperial inquiry. Someone must be punished for this crime.”

Mingyu knew she was in danger from the moment she’d stepped into the study to see Deng’s corpse waiting for her. She had been linked to one murder in the past and here was another.

Conspiracy, the gossipers would declare. The general’s lover lured him to a secret tryst where he was then assassinated.

“You asked me why I summoned you and what game I was trying to play. It is a game,” she admitted. “I don’t trust you because you are kindhearted and honorable, Constable Wu. I trust you because you don’t care who Deng Zhi is or how vast his forces are. You don’t care who I am, which means you don’t care that a lowly courtesan was found with her dead and high-ranking lover. Or that her life means nothing to the magistrate or his superiors. All you care about is finding the truth.”

“If you’re looking for protection, you need someone more powerful than I,” he warned her.

Her chest squeezed tight. “There is no one else.”

“That is unfortunate.”

He regarded her impassively, his face a mask. If there was any hint of kindness earlier, it was long gone. She pushed the door open, eager to escape. Part of her envied Wu Kaifeng and his unyielding approach. It must be freeing to walk through this world and feel nothing.

CHAPTER FIVE

GENERAL DENG’S BODY was brought to the yamen and laid out on a long table in one of the storerooms. His embroidered robe and jade belt had been carefully removed and set aside while the corpse, or what remained of it, was washed and the neck bound with cloth. The doors and windows were propped open for additional light while Kaifeng created a charcoal sketch of the body. He observed the tone and rigidity of the muscles, the condition of the hands and feet, the appearance of the skin. Each detail was noted meticulously beside the drawings.

“Signs of poisoning can be detected in the skin beneath the nails as well as the swelling of the tongue and discoloration in the eyes,” Old Guo, his foster father, had told him.

The tongue and eyes weren’t available for inspection, but the nails were. They appeared a normal pallor given a person who had been dead for half the day.

There were no marks on the hands or arms, indicating that the general hadn’t tried to defend himself. It was possible Deng had been drugged or otherwise distracted. Or he was caught unaware, which meant he knew and trusted his killer.

Kaifeng completed a set of sketches of the corpse from different angles. Magistrate Li arrived just as he prepared to unwind the bandages at the neck.

Li Yen stopped short at the side of the long table, staring down at the empty space where there should have been a head. The young magistrate swallowed with some difficulty and fought to regain his composure.

“This is believed to be General Deng Zhi,” Kaifeng reported.

“The military governor of Shannanxi circuit,” Li muttered.

“I would have notified you sooner, but you weren’t at the tribunal this morning.”

“I was called away on an official matter,” he said with an impatient wave. “What is the progress so far?”

“The body was found at his private residence in the Chongren ward. I have a team of our constables searching the surrounding area to hunt for the head as well as possible suspects. A message has been sent to the Deng family mansion. I plan to question the household this afternoon.”

Li shook his head regretfully. “Constable Wu, there are certain formalities that should—no, that must be observed when a man of this stature is involved.”

“Time is of the utmost importance.”

“I understand, but Deng Zhi was a military official of the first rank. We can’t intrude upon his family without warning. And consider the rumors that will sprout up. This must be handled with some finesse.”

“Witnesses and anyone involved must be questioned immediately. You know this.”

Not only was it the magistrate’s duty to act swiftly, it was also when they were most likely to meet with success.

“We will certainly question everyone,” Li agreed. “But with our office under scrutiny, we must proceed carefully and show proper respect. I shall personally send out the proper condolences to the family and arrange a meeting at an appropriate time. This news will reach the Emperor’s ears, if it hasn’t already.”

Kaifeng didn’t like it at all, but Magistrate Li was his superior. He stared down at the lifeless figure. It cared nothing for respect or propriety. A body was a body. Upon death, putrefaction and decay set in. Time washed away all wrongs.

“I want to be present at the questioning.”

“That can be arranged, but you must be careful of what you say, Wu.”

“I will make an effort.”

With that, Kaifeng returned his attention to the examination of the corpse.

The body hadn’t yet grown stiff when Kaifeng arrived, which meant that the killing blow had been dealt not too long before. Kaifeng was able to have the body transported before the limbs locked tight.

He started unwrapping the cloth bundled around the neck when he realized that Li Yen was still beside him, looking on with morbid interest.

The inner layer of wrappings was soaked through with blood. Kaifeng pulled the last of the bandages away to reveal what remained of the neck. A butcher shop stench permeated the storeroom and Li pressed his sleeve over his nose.

“Clean cut,” Kaifeng announced, inspecting the edges of the wound. If he had to guess, he would say with a single blow, but he didn’t like to guess.

“I witnessed the Market Commissioner’s execution earlier this year,” Li murmured. “It was the first time I’d seen a beheading. The first time I sentenced a man to be killed in such a way.”

“The shock will dull with time,” Kaifeng assured, though he wasn’t certain it was true. Some men never hardened to the sight of death. Others, such as himself, were never truly shaken by it.

“I will leave you to the examination,” the magistrate choked out. “We will talk later.”

Li ducked away quickly, the back of his hand pressed over his mouth.

Kaifeng had come to the realization long ago that his responses were not typical. He didn’t seem to react as others did. Death didn’t sicken his stomach or make his muscles seize up in fear. Of all the times he had encountered death, only once had it truly upset him.

Sharpening the charcoal stick, Kaifeng began a sketch showing the wound. He noted the entry point of the blade and the angle of the blow in his journal.

Old Guo had tried to school him on the intricate details of medicine: pressure points, herbal remedies, the balance of qi and the elements. Kaifeng had never grasped the more ephemeral concepts, but certain tangible lessons stayed with him. He knew the anatomy of the body, where the vital organs were located and how to detect a fatal wound. He knew how long specific injuries took to heal, which blows were fatal and what sort of marks they left behind.

Despite this training, Kaifeng could never be a physician. Diagnosis was the art of reading someone’s pulse and listening to their breath. It was focused on prediction and intuition. He was never skilled at such guesswork or the art of interacting with others. Autopsy was another matter. It was focused on finding the answer to a foregone conclusion and there were only so many ways to die.

Kaifeng completed his final observations and then wrapped the body in linen to be returned to the family. He didn’t have high hopes of recovering the head. Whoever had killed the general wished to do more than take Deng’s life.

Beheading was a punishment reserved for the worst of criminals, for traitors and usurpers. The killer meant to defile his body and condemn his spirit in the afterlife. Or perhaps the killer had taken his head for himself. As a trophy from a conquered enemy.

* * *

THE MAGISTRATE’S OFFICE managed to keep the rumors contained over the next day or so, but stories began to surface throughout the quarter. Though it was taboo to speak of death, General Deng was a high-ranking official and anything involving Lady Mingyu attracted attention high and low.

Kaifeng headed into the entertainment quarter early in the morning. The Three Lanes lay quiet as the inhabitants of the pleasure houses slept off the previous night’s festivities.

The notorious Lotus Palace was distinguished by its rooftop pavilion decorated with eaves that resembled the petals of a flower. Each night, lanterns hung from the upper floors and the Lotus glowed like a beacon at the center of the Pingkang li. During the day, the towering pavilion could have been mistaken for a temple.

A young girl, possibly ten or eleven years of age, answered the visitor’s bell. She took one look at Kaifeng and shrank back.

“I am here to speak to Lady Mingyu.”

The door shut abruptly and he heard the girl calling for her headmistress. Apparently the young hostess-in-training needed more training.

When the door opened this time, he was met by a middle-aged lady dressed opulently in silk. Even at this early hour, her hair was elegantly coiled and pinned and her bearing had a regal air to it.

“Constable Wu,” she remarked with a haughty tilt of her head.

Kaifeng bowed slightly at the waist. “Madame Sun.”

He was well-known at the Lotus and many of the houses of the Pingkang li due to that murder investigation a year earlier. From the way the headmistress’s eyes narrowed on him, Kaifeng had not emerged favorably from the incident.

“It’s quite early,” she said.

“Indeed.”

“A little early for visitors.”

He stood his ground. “This is not a visit.”

She pursed her lips together, her jaw hardening. “Have you considered, Wu Kaifeng, that your conduct might be considered at times impolite?”

He considered it now. “Perhaps,” he concluded. “I must speak with Lady Mingyu. If you please, Madame.”

He added the last part for politeness.

“Let him in, Mother,” Mingyu said with a sigh. She appeared in the entrance hall behind her headmistress. “I don’t want the constable to think that we have anything to hide.”

Kaifeng raised his eyebrows at that. He was fully aware of what tricks these women were capable of.

Madame Sun stepped aside as Mingyu approached. This morning, her robe was plain and muted in color, which oddly accentuated rather than decreased her beauty. Her hair was pulled back with wooden combs, and then allowed to fall free over one shoulder. Without embellishment, Mingyu’s appearance took on a sense of clarity and purity. Flesh of ice and bones of jade.

“Would you like tea?” She directed him toward the parlor with a practiced sweep of her arm.

He remained at the door. “There is no need for such courtesies. I am returning to General Deng’s private residence for a closer inspection. If you would come with me.”

A look of unease rippled beneath Mingyu’s serene expression and Madame Sun bristled.

“I don’t see why you need Mingyu to perform your duties, Constable.”

Mingyu raised a hand to silence her headmistress. “General Deng Zhi was very generous to us, Mother. Isn’t it only right that we help Constable Wu in any way we can to lay the general to rest?”

Kaifeng didn’t know if her words were for Madame Sun’s benefit or his, but the headmistress was unconvinced.

“We have a reputation to maintain,” she countered. “There are enough rumors without you being dragged around the city by a demon like him.”

Mingyu leaned toward him in a conspiratorial gesture. Over her shoulder, Madame Sun continued to glare in disapproval.

“Constable, if you would allow me to meet you at the house?” Mingyu suggested softly. “Madame is very particular who I am seen in public with.”

Her hair smelled faintly of jasmine and the scent of it curled around him, touching his deepest desires. Lady Mingyu was skilled at this game of courtship. He wanted to tell her that it was wasted on him, but his pulse jumped at her nearness.

“Do not be long,” he told her gruffly.

Mingyu met his gaze and he could see dark shadows beneath her eyes. It was said Mingyu could command men with a single, sensuous look, but this morning she appeared exhausted.

“I’ll be waiting,” he said, attempting a gentler tone.

“Thank you for understanding, Constable.”

The moment the door closed, Kaifeng realized the courtesan was clever enough to turn even a hint of vulnerability into an advantage. It was very possible that Mingyu had only surrendered herself to him to create an illusion. She wanted him to believe that she was at his mercy.

CHAPTER SIX

MINGYU HADN’T SLEPT. She couldn’t close her eyes without seeing the defiled body, the blood. It had been so long since she had seen Deng that she could hardly remember his face. As if he’d always been headless.

One of her courtesan-sisters from the Lotus accompanied her that morning. Ziyi had been procured a few years after Mingyu had arrived at the Lotus. They proceeded quietly through the streets side by side, but when they reached the house, the younger courtesan took one look at the yellow notice pasted over the gate and refused to enter.

A crime has occurred at this place, the notice proclaimed. All are forbidden entry by order of the magistrate.

Pushing the gate open, Mingyu stepped inside alone. Over the years she had collected many memories of this courtyard and the rooms surrounding it, but those moments were now destroyed by one act of violence.

Mingyu closed her eyes and prayed she had somehow been mistaken and she would see the general before her once more. Their association wasn’t a warm one, but it was one she was familiar with. One she could control.

A shadow passed over her, like a cloud covering the sun. She could sense the change in the air even with her eyes closed.

When she opened her eyes, the man standing before her wasn’t Deng, but Constable Wu.

“It wasn’t a dream,” he told her.

Wu was dressed in his black uniform and loomed before her like a dark tower. His features were harsh with little to smooth out the rough edges, the hard cut of his chin, the unforgiving shape of his mouth that seemed forever locked in a grim line. Yet something about him compelled her. Whenever he was near, it was impossible for her to look away. There was so much more to him than what could be seen on the surface. Wu’s tone was gentle and his eyes, though not kind, were far from cold.

She hadn’t shed a tear for her former lover, but with Wu’s simple remark, his closeness, how his shadow seemed to hold her steady, Mingyu felt her eyes welling up. She took a deep breath and forced the emotion back.

“What is it that you needed from me?” she asked.

The moment broke between them. It had been as tenuous as a spider’s web and just as invisible, except in the right light.

“You mentioned that General Deng often met with you here.”

He stepped aside to allow her into the courtyard and Mingyu breathed a bit easier now that she was no longer facing him.

“The general would host meetings here when he required more privacy than a banquet hall could offer.”

“Deng Zhi also maintained a home in the northern part of the city.”

She nodded. “The Deng family mansion.”

“Yet he spends most of his time outside the capital.”

“Most powerful officials keep honorary residences here. It’s a sign of the Emperor’s favor,” she explained. “Deng enjoyed the previous Emperor’s favor, at least. Do you know of his history?”

Wu glanced down at her, his expression neither confirming nor denying her question. She had to remember that he was new to Changan. Furthermore, he was the magistrate’s hired hand and locked out of the sort of conversation a courtesan could easily overhear. Men of high rank liked to talk.

“The general had a rival military governor accused of treason and, through one scheme followed by another, took over the warlord’s army as well as several other garrisons. As a result, Deng controlled one of the largest military circuits within the empire. And one quite close to the imperial capital.”

If Wu Kaifeng had any interest in politics, he didn’t show it. His expression remained blank except for his eyes which were focused unnervingly onto her.

“Scheme after scheme,” he said finally. “The two of you must have suited one another perfectly.”

She flinched. “True or not, Deng Zhi is gone now. There is no need to insult me—or him.”

“It wasn’t an insult. Just an observation.”

A glaringly personal observation, speaking of General Deng and her as if he knew anything about them. Mingyu turned toward the main part of the house, purposefully cutting him from view. “Why are we here, Constable?”

“I studied the perimeter.” He gestured toward the low wall that surrounded the property. “There are two entrances. Or exits, whichever way you wish to think of it. The main one is the front gate. The secondary one is through the kitchen. The walls are not difficult to scale, but climbing over them would attract notice.”

Mingyu listened patiently, an important skill for a courtesan. It was fascinating to try to figure out who Wu Kaifeng was as a man. He was a blunt instrument, no finely honed edge, no finesse. Not at all like the men she was accustomed to dealing with.

Whatever Wu revealed of himself, she could believe. As fearsome as most found him, he never used his physical presence to intimidate her outside of that one time when he was performing his duties in the interrogation room. Not the way Deng had.

“Did General Deng typically have servants with him when he was here?” he asked.

An odd feeling crept down her spine. “Yes. At least one attendant and always bodyguards. I noticed there was something unusual when I arrived yesterday, but I couldn’t place what it was. And then everything became confused.”

“So no one was here when you arrived.”

She frowned. How had she failed to recognize that? “The place seemed empty, but the general would send his attendants away when he wanted more privacy.”

“Then he must have been eager to see you after such a long time away.”

Her face heated. Such a thing shouldn’t make her blush. Mingyu was an experienced courtesan, but Wu had no sense of what should be spoken and what must remain unspoken.

“The bodyguards would never be far away,” she pointed out. “A man like Deng has to always be watchful of enemies.”

Kaifeng nodded. “Violence begets violence. Did anyone else know where he would be waiting for you that morning?”

“Madame Sun knew of it. And I assume Deng’s servants must have known, as well.”

“The household is in mourning. I am forbidden to question his wife or son,” Wu said with a scowl.

Mingyu went still. “His family is here, as well?”

“Deng’s wife returned to the Changan along with her husband. She had the unfortunate duty of identifying her husband’s body. His head is still missing.”

Wu took two steps toward the house before he noticed she wasn’t following beside him. He looked back over his shoulder. “Have I offended you? I tend to ask my questions directly.”

“I was surprised the general would have summoned me while his wife was present in the city.”

“Explain.”

“Deng’s wife was not happy when he wanted to make me his concubine.”

“But you didn’t become his concubine.”

“I did not.”

“Why not?” he asked.

She shot him a warning look, but Wu continued to wait for her answer.

One would have thought with time among the society of the capital, Constable Wu’s manners would smooth out, but his rough conduct was apparently not due to his low birth nor being from the provinces. Her own peasant upbringing had been scrubbed away by Madame’s training. In Changan, if one had a way with words and mastered the social graces, one could be reborn. But Wu had no interest in being anything other than what he was.

“Deng Furen is one of those women who very much has a say in what happens in the household. She comes from a very wealthy and powerful family.”

“You are not telling me everything,” Wu insisted.

Mingyu sighed. “These are women’s matters. A courtesan’s role is different than that of a concubine. If I were to leave the Lotus to disappear into Deng’s household, I would have been completely under his wife’s rule.”

He took a moment to consider her explanation. His curiosity must have been satisfied, because he gestured toward the door. “Come inside.”

She went still. They were at the entrance to the study. “I can’t—”

“I need you to see something.”

Without waiting for her, he pushed the door open. If Mingyu turned and fled now, things would be even worse for her. She had no choice but to follow his lead.

It wasn’t as bad inside with Deng’s body removed, yet in a way it was also worse. Bloodstains surrounded the desk and chair, the only clean area being where the corpse had sat.

“You should know that the evidence indicates the general was killed very close to the time that you arrived at the house,” Wu said. “You may have even been in the house at the same time, with the killer leaving through the rear exit.”

She swallowed and her hand flew to her throat. “I could have walked in at the wrong moment—”

“Did you see anyone out in the street when you arrived?”

Mingyu shook her head. “No... I don’t know.”

“There are a few details I left off of the official report. I need you to speak to them now.”

Her chest tightened until she could hardly breathe. She had told him everything, hadn’t she?

“There was blood on the hem of your robe yesterday. Also on your sleeve.”

Every muscle within her tensed. “Impossible.”

“There was also blood on your hands, Lady Mingyu.”

She vaguely remembered stepping toward the corpse. She remembered backing away, stumbling to the gate. Calling to the boy who was loitering outside.

“You were studying my hands in the interrogation room,” she said dully.

“Beneath your fingernails. When I came back here last night, I found the washbasin had been used. You can still see it now.”

In a trance, she walked to the table in the corner where the basin had been set. The water was tinged pink. Mingyu looked down at her hands next. They were clean now, but she’d scrubbed them for an hour the night before, not understanding why she’d felt the need to.

“You know things about me that I don’t even know myself,” she murmured. The memory seemed like it was there and it wasn’t, as if there were a fog over her eyes. “I must have gone to him when I saw him. I was so confused, I must have touched my hand to his chest to see if his heart was still beating. I don’t even know why I did it. I already knew he was dead. I didn’t remember any of this until now, I swear to heaven.”

Wu regarded her with a keen eye and she could feel her cheeks heating under his scrutiny. Her heart was hammering inside her. She didn’t like how it felt to have to plead for her life.

“People react to death in unpredictable ways,” he began slowly. “With anger, with tears, sometimes even laughter and any number of small madnesses.”

It was the sort of assurance one said to the bereaved, but there seemed to be something else behind his words. Something hidden deep.

“You didn’t bring me here to condemn me, then?”

“I don’t aim to condemn anyone. I just want answers.” Wu walked over to the desk next, to the last place on this earth Mingyu wanted to go. “There is one more thing I need you to see.”

Laid across the desk were Deng’s personal items—a chop carved from soapstone and a stack of letters. He must have been reading correspondences that morning.

But Wu’s gaze was directed, not onto the desk, but beneath it. A scroll had fallen to the floor where it remained open, partially hidden.

“Is this you, Lady Mingyu?”

She ventured closer, avoiding the bloodstains on the floor and chair. At the first sight of the scroll, she gasped. It was a brush painting of a courtesan rendered in graceful, elegant strokes. A line of poetry had been inscribed down the right-hand side, comparing the lady to an orchid. There were hundreds like this floating around the pleasure quarter, but this one was unmistakably her.

“I didn’t even know the general owned this.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I didn’t even know such a painting existed.”

She looked so heartbreakingly young! The painting showed her seated in a meadow with tall grass around her. There was a faint hint of a breeze in the sway of the grass and the way her hair flew about her face. Blood had spilled onto the paper, forming a ghastly frame around her.

“Your face was the last thing Deng Zhi saw in this life,” Wu remarked. “He sent his guards away to be with you. He was anticipating your arrival the moment he was killed.”

She shook her head, wanting to deny everything, but it was impossible to ignore. “I don’t know how that came to be here. I meant nothing to Deng. He wanted me the way a soldier procures a horse. As property.”

“Do not lie to me, for if I find that you have tried to trick me, there will be consequences,” Wu warned. “Were you involved in Deng’s death?”

At that moment, she was convinced his relentless gaze could pierce straight into her soul.

“No.”

Mingyu said nothing else, letting that one word stand. Wu had never been lured or swayed by any of her artfulness. She expected another rainstorm of questions from him, but he remained silent.

Finally the constable stepped back from the desk. The nod he gave her was a begrudging one, hard-earned, but Mingyu still wasn’t certain whether he believed her or not.

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE MOMENT MINGYU was free of the house, she fled to the side of one her courtesan-sisters who was waiting in the street. They ducked beneath the shade of a parasol, heads held close in conversation like a pair of sparrows on a branch. Once more, Kaifeng was left to watch as Mingyu walked away, hanging on to the last sight of her until she was nothing more than a shape in the distance.

Mingyu was frightened and desperate and she was certainly hiding something, but his gut told him she wasn’t guilty. Unfortunately his gut and every other part of him were susceptible to Mingyu. He couldn’t trust his instincts around her.

Kaifeng returned inside to gather Deng’s belongings as evidence. It was striking that among the few personal items in the study, one of them should be a painting of Mingyu.

Had Deng been captivated by her? Had he gazed affectionately at the painting, so smitten that he’d missed the warning signs of an imminent attack? Lust and longing might have made him careless enough to dismiss his servants for some privacy, but he was an accomplished soldier. Why was there no struggle?

As Kaifeng packed the items into a wooden crate, he noted one more glaring detail. There was no sword among them.

Mingyu claimed that the general always feared for his safety. Yet there was no weapon on his person or at the scene of the crime. Whoever had killed him must have taken his sword along with the head. But was it the murder weapon?

The next course of action was clear. At the magistrate’s yamen, Kaifeng instructed the other constables to seek out Deng’s bodyguards. Those men had either failed miserably in their duties or they had been part of the conspiracy. As to identifying the general’s political enemies, that was a task Magistrate Li was more suited for. He would speak to Li as soon as the tribunal had adjourned for the day.

With that plan in place, Kaifeng proceeded to the records room with the evidence crate only to find a stranger riffling through the papers at his worktable. His initial urge to grab the interloper by the throat was thwarted when Kaifeng saw his red robe and official’s cap.

Kaifeng set the crate by the door before approaching. “Sir?”

It galled him to have to address the man with such respect. The color of his uniform denoted that the stranger was higher in rank than even Magistrate Li.

The official appeared to be thirty years of age. He had a scroll in hand and continued to read from it by the light from the window. He didn’t look up as Kaifeng approached.

“The body was found seated at a desk in an open chamber. The door was unlocked. Only a single person was found in the house. One Lady Sun Mingyu. She claimed to not have witnessed the death. Records indicate the property was owned by General Deng Zhi.” The stranger finally glanced up from the report. “Are you this—” He made a show of squinting at the inscription. “Wu Kaifeng?”

“Yes.” And after some deliberation, “Sir.”

Kaifeng knew the visitor held some elevated rank and was apparently arrogant because of it, but there was little else he could discern.

“Constable Wu Kaifeng, is it? The magistrate must be quite overburdened to task his constables with record keeping.”

“It seemed fitting for me to make the report given that I was the first to inspect the crime scene,” he replied.

The official looked over his writing with a look of disdain. “This isn’t a common occurrence, I hope. Such tiny characters. Closed off, hard to decipher. Your calligraphy leaves something to be desired, Constable.”

Kaifeng raised an eyebrow. They were investigating a murder and the official was berating his writing skills?

With some effort, Kaifeng constructed his next request. “May this humble servant ask to whom he is speaking?”

“Inspector Xi Lun, attendant censor of the Palace Bureau,” the stranger replied crisply.

Though Kaifeng wasn’t one to be impressed with titles, this one made him pause. Imperial censors reported directly to the Emperor and were tasked with investigating corruption among appointed officials.

The censor continued with his diatribe, “As any scholar knows, the quality of writing conveys many things. These brushstrokes are crude, hasty. The observations and descriptions are abrupt as if no thought was given to them. What does this say about the care given to this investigation? Is it similarly hasty and untended? This report is practically unreadable.”

Kaifeng didn’t answer. To his ears, the conversation was as nonsensical as the babbling of an infant. He had work to do and he wanted this official with his expensively dyed robe to go somewhere else.

“Magistrate Li should consider that a case this important be assigned to someone more appropriate,” the censor continued. “Someone with the proper training.”

Kaifeng had training, but it was questionable whether hunting outlaws in Suzhou or observing his foster father carry out the duties of a county physician were considered proper.

This official was apparently one of the scholar-gentry that crowded the administrative bureaus of the capital. In his eyes, if an individual could not quote lines of poetry at odd times in conversation, he was nothing more than a half-wit.

“Are not all cases equally important?” Kaifeng posed mildly. “In the end, a life is a life. A wrong is a wrong.”

Inspector Xi smirked, pleased and amused that Kaifeng would attempt to engage in debate. “The death of a high general like Deng Zhi threatens the stability of our state. What is the purpose of justice if not to protect the social order?” He glanced back at the report, rolling the ends of the scroll to read the next passages. “The neighbors were interrogated. Passersby. Why were the family members and servants not questioned?”

Kaifeng ground his teeth. “This was done out of respect for the mourning period.”

“Constable,” the censor began with mock surprise, “you must be aware that memories and recall of events will erode with time. Also with additional time, the perpetrators have opportunity to fabricate lies and cover up their involvement.”

Inwardly, he cursed Magistrate Li and his proper and genteel ways. Outwardly, Kaifeng bit his tongue.

“The only person you questioned who appeared to have any personal knowledge of General Deng was—” The official squinted at the report again. An annoying habit. “Lady Mingyu, courtesan of the Lotus Palace and foster daughter to a Madame Sun Linjiang. You seem to have conversed with her in length. No arrest was made.” He glanced up with a shrewd look. “I’ve heard of this Mingyu. Perhaps you were moved to be lenient when faced with a beautiful woman?”

The way he lingered over Mingyu’s name made Kaifeng’s fists clench. Striking an official would certainly be seen as a threat to the stability of the state.

“There was not enough evidence for an arrest,” he replied. “And she can be easily found in the Pingkang li if further questioning is required.”

“No matter. I’ll advise Li Yen to assign his official deputies to this task. To men who understand the prescribed practice of enforcing the laws. Ones who have been educated beyond a few scrawls.” With a curl of his lip, he rolled the scroll closed. “Your talents are better served in the street, dragging in vagabonds and lending a heavy hand when needed.”

Magistrate Li appeared at the doorway. Behind him was the same official Li had met with several days earlier, the one who had requested that he be dismissed.

“Inspector Xi Lun,” Li greeted with a low bow. “We apologize for the delay.”

“No need for apology. This conversation was quite useful.” Xi Lun tucked the report beneath his arm and slanted a final glance at Wu Kaifeng before joining his colleagues. “I would like to hear what else is being done to investigate this crime, Magistrate Li. As you know, the Emperor himself is interested to know who would dare to assassinate one of his highest ranking generals, right here in the imperial capital under the Emperor’s watch.”

* * *

TALENTS BETTER SERVED in the street.

Indeed.

Kaifeng would gladly keep to the streets if it meant no more useless exchanges with self-important bureaucrats. If there was some scheme to have him dismissed, then so be it. There was little he could do about it, but perform his duties. So by the next morning, he had brushed such concerns aside and instead pondered the nature of cuts and wounds as he walked through the market.

Lady Mingyu would likely be unimpressed by such knowledge. She might even find it horrifying, but it certainly made him useful. Kaifeng had no illusions. Mingyu wouldn’t have looked twice at him if he wasn’t useful.

He reached the lane where the butcher’s shop was located and caught a scrawny youth darting from the crowd toward the street corner.

Kaifeng closed the distance and grabbed the boy’s shoulder. The urchin yelped and struggled while he shouted for help. Anyone who might have been inclined to intervene took one look at Kaifeng and kept on moving.

“Sir! Constable, sir, where are you taking me? I didn’t do anything.”

With Kaifeng’s long stride, the boy was skipping to keep pace as Kaifeng dragged him back toward the shop. As soon as the youth saw where they were going, he renewed his struggles, clawing at Kaifeng’s wrist. The butcher paused with his cleaver poised over a haunch of pork.

Kaifeng raised his arm, the gesture lifting the boy half off the ground. “Here is your thief.”

The butcher stared incredulously from Kaifeng to the boy in his grasp.

“That runt you caught a few days ago was innocent, but there was indeed a thief snatching your earnings. I saw this one waiting for you to be occupied with those hogs from your assistant.” Kaifeng nodded toward the pig carcasses stacked on the back counter. “Once your back was turned, he crept by to swipe a few coins.”

This boy was in rags very much like the first one. He started to squeak out a protest, but Kaifeng merely let him drop to the ground. A quick search of his person revealed two copper coins tucked into his shoe.

There was no need to test the coins in water for streaks of grease and blood. The boy, in the typical fashion of the guilty, piped up that this was only his first time stealing from the butcher.

“It wasn’t me all those other times,” he insisted.

The butcher’s face flushed red and his jowls shook as he roared, “I should chop off your hand myself, you no-good dog.”

He raised his cleaver to make good on the threat, which sent the thief scrambling behind Kaifeng for protection. “Sir! Constable, sir. Don’t let him kill me.”

On any other day, Kaifeng would leave the thief to the butcher to mete out punishment. There was no use in taking such a petty crime to the magistrate where the youth would only receive a few blows with the light rod as punishment.

“Put him to work,” Kaifeng suggested, seeing the butcher was less enthusiastic about wielding his cleaver on a person than on a side of pork.

Once the failed thief was on his knees scrubbing the floor, Kaifeng returned to his original intent for coming to the shop.

“There is a favor I must ask of you,” he said to the butcher.

“Anything, Constable.”

Kaifeng looked to the pigs stacked on the back counter, still intact. “If I could borrow two of those. You will get them back shortly, I assure you.”

The butcher shot him a questioning look, a look that said he wasn’t certain whether Wu Kaifeng was entirely sane. It was a look the constable got often.

“This might make your job easier for the day,” Kaifeng added.

The butcher set his son at the counter to take care of customers while he helped haul the two carcasses to the storeroom in back.

Hooks hung from the ceiling and the smell of old blood and gore clung to the air. This was where the meat was hung to drain after slaughter. The reformed thief made his way back there and plunked his wash bucket down. Scrunching up his face, he sank down to his knees and started scrubbing with an air of resignation.

Kaifeng secured the pigs onto the hooks, heads up so that their necks were exposed at his eye level. The weight of them was nearly equal to a man’s.

He thanked the butcher for his assistance, but the man remained in the storeroom, too curious to return to his counter. When Kaifeng positioned himself in front of one of the pigs and drew his sword, the boy stopped his scrubbing to watch with fascination.

Setting his feet and squaring his shoulders, Kaifeng sank into his stance. He gripped the broadsword in both hands—he had the feeling he would need the extra power in his swing—and pulled the weapon back.

Tension gathered in his shoulders as he prepared himself. He had watched the executioner deal such a blow, but had never done it himself. He had, however, wielded his sword against a flesh and blood enemy enough times to know the impact of steel into bone.

With a deep breath, he reared back and then struck with the exhale, directing his blow not into the body, but to a point on the other side. The broadsword sank deep, but not through the corpse. The resistance in the body stopped him short even though he was swinging at full force. It took another swipe to sever the head from the body. The carcass fell to the floor with a thump and the boy gasped in amazement.

“A little harder next time,” the butcher said encouragingly.

For the second carcass, Kaifeng circled around so he was facing the back of the pig.

“It’s going to be more difficult that way, Constable,” the butcher warned.

Kaifeng readied himself and struck again. Once again, he’d failed to sever the head in one blow, but that hadn’t quite been his aim. He inspected the cuts he’d made with his broadsword.

The first blow had indeed resulted in a clean cut. The secondary cut was easily discernible from the ragged edge of the wound. Next he tested a few cuts from the butcher’s cleaver and his machete. Tools that the butcher necessarily kept honed. Again, the cuts were discernible. The cleaver was blunter. The machete sharper and cleaner, but not as precise as his sword.

“Did you get the answers you were looking for, Constable?” the butcher asked.

“Too soon for conclusive answers.” Kaifeng cleaned his sword with a rag and sheathed it. “Just gathering information.”

General Deng had been beheaded with a single stroke, by a man who was both sword-trained and strong enough to deliver the death blow. There had been a slight angle to Deng’s wound, a downward cut that would seem more natural for taking a head, especially when the victim was sitting or kneeling. Most likely the blow was dealt from the front. By someone who was right-handed.

It was still possible that someone Deng trusted had positioned himself behind the general, but very unlikely. A fighting man wouldn’t allow anyone who was dangerous such an advantage. Even though Kaifeng’s size might render most men less threatening, he was still aware of who was around him. Especially if that person was armed.

The killer would be an experienced fighter, most likely tall in stature, possessing a good sword. Deng’s bodyguards were immediately suspect. Kaifeng had been unable to track them down the day before, but it was only a matter of time.

There was another explanation Kaifeng hadn’t yet considered. Deng had gone without his bodyguards and without his weapon. Was it possible that Deng had expected to die? But why summon Mingyu that morning?

A chill settled in his blood. The general might have wanted to see her one last time before dying. Or he could have planned for her to accompany him on that last, long journey into darkness. Perhaps Deng had planned it that way all along.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“I DON’T KNOW why we have to entertain at a public drinking house,” Ziyi complained.

Mingyu was accompanied that evening by Ziyi and Jing-min, one of the younger girls of the house. Their destination was a tavern in the northern quadrant of the ward, reachable on foot, but still a good distance away.

“It will be loud, crowded. Full of all sorts of who-knows-what.”

“It’s good practice and there is a sizable gathering there tonight.” Mingyu led them toward the pair of lanterns flickering at the end of the street. “Good opportunity for introductions.”

“But you’re not performing.”

“I’m in mourning,” Mingyu replied serenely. “And I have less need to cultivate a following than my younger courtesan-sisters.”

Ziyi snorted. Jing-min remained quiet as she kept pace beside them. She had her pipa held close to her side. At fifteen and having been in training for a short five years, she only performed outside of the Lotus Palace once in a while and always under supervision.

Tonight the three of them had taken care to dress in complementary colors, knowing they would be seen together. They floated down the lane in pink, yellow and green, a field of flowers.

Mingyu paused to read the signboard over the entrance which listed the establishment as the Golden Flower Tavern.

“Here,” she directed. “And be pleasant. Or at least be well-mannered.”

Ziyi made a face as she moved past. Jing-min merely bowed her head in a nod of obedience as she followed her courtesan-sister inside. The girl was pretty enough, Mingyu thought, but she was entirely too timid by nature.

Though the tavern was crowded, it wasn’t nearly as bad as Ziyi had complained. The proprietor welcomed them with a quick nod and left them to find their own place. Entertainers were good for business.

Seeing that the benches on the ground floor were filled with lower-ranking functionaries, Mingyu directed the girls upstairs where the more private seatings could be found. She was quickly rewarded for their efforts. A group of bureaucrats were enjoying wine in one of the rooms near the stairs. Though none of them recognized her, they seemed amiable.

“Such a serious and important discussion,” Mingyu remarked upon browsing by. “This seems to be an ambitious lot.”

There was a chorus of good-natured remarks and greetings.

“All except for...this one.” She singled out the one who seemed the most talkative of the group, causing the others to burst into laughter.

“She knows you, fool.”

“All beautiful women know me,” the target retorted, playing along wonderfully.

From there, it was easy to insinuate themselves. Mingyu took the liberty of pouring a round of drinks while the men lifted their cups eagerly. Ziyi and Jing-min joined in to accommodate everyone.

“My younger sister is practicing a new song. Perhaps the gentlemen would like to hear it?” Mingyu suggested.

The men were all in agreement.

“I will try my best,” Jing-min replied softly. Sometimes being shy worked out well as the men hushed around her and she became the center of attention.

The sounds of the pipa took over and the mood became immediately festive. Mingyu’s presence was no longer needed to ease the way and she managed to disengage and retreat into the hall.

Perhaps she could have a moment to herself before exploring the rest of the tavern. Madame Sun would expect her to search out any noteworthy names who happened to be there that evening and at least offer a greeting.

At the end far end of the corridor, Mingyu did encounter a familiar face, though whether or not his name was noteworthy could be debated. Wu Kaifeng sat with Magistrate Li at a table in the corner. The two of them were deep in conversation and looked more like peers engaged in a serious discussion rather than a superior speaking to his underling.

Just as she meant to retreat in the other direction, Wu looked up. His eyes locked onto her and his gaze narrowed as he considered her unexpected appearance. To turn away now would be admitting she found him unsettling, so Mingyu stood her ground. Unfortunately, this left her staring rather boldly at him. Magistrate Li continued speaking, oblivious that his constable’s attention was elsewhere. Her pulse skipped as Wu Kaifeng stood and started toward her.

His long and lean form filled the corridor. By the time he arrived before her, her cheeks were flushed with anticipation, but her tone remained cool. Or at least that was her intention.

“Constable Wu.”

“Lady Mingyu.”

She cast a sly glance over his shoulder. “What excuse did you give the magistrate for coming over here?”

He frowned. “No excuse. I told him you looked like you had something to say to me.”

“I don’t have anything in particular.”

“I was mistaken, then.”

With a short bow, he turned to go and she had to catch his arm to stop him. “Must everything be so exact with you?” she said with a huff.

Wu tensed beneath her hand and he regarded her with surprise. Mingyu let her fingers slip away from his arm, but there was no erasing the touch or how her heart was suddenly pounding.

It was a simple courtesan’s game, moving in close, establishing a false familiarity. This was the first time she had initiated any contact with Wu Kaifeng, yet she was the one affected. The faint warmth in her cheeks was now a heat that made her entire face burn.

“Come with me, Constable.” With a laugh, she turned toward the stairs. “Perhaps we should talk, after all.”

Mingyu could hear his footsteps behind her despite the music floating through the hallway, despite the buzz of conversation in the tavern. All sights and sounds receded in the wake of her awareness of him.

She descended the stairs and headed toward the kitchen in the back. She didn’t allow herself the reassurance of looking back, but she knew Wu was still following her. The cool night air surrounded her as she slipped through the rear door.

“Your conversation with the magistrate appeared quite important,” she began, finally turning to him.

Wu stood just outside the doorway, presenting a striking figure in the lantern light. “I don’t speak unless it is important.”

There might have been a rebuke there, but she didn’t sense one.

“And most of what I say is worthless banter,” she remarked.

“Not entirely worthless.”

He said it more in agreement than denial and Mingyu bit back a smile. Of all the people in this wide city, Constable Wu was the first to make her smile in a long time.

Usually she took such pleasure in the nuances and ambiguity of conversation, but his blatant disregard for politeness was undeniably exciting.

Wu looked about the deserted alleyway where they found themselves. “Are you unable to be seen with me even here?”

“A few lanes from the Pingkang li and no one even knows my face. Don’t mind Madame Sun. She simply likes to be demanding.”

Mingyu moved to his side and they started down the alley at a leisurely pace. Though the stroll couldn’t progress very far, it was pleasant to be headed nowhere for the moment.

They could still hear the muted hum of activity from within the tavern. The truth was, Mingyu preferred it when they were alone together. Then there were no requirements for either of them.

“I didn’t know you entertained at public drinking houses,” he remarked, returning his attention fully to her.

“Several of my courtesan-sisters are still in training. Madame wishes for me to teach them everything I know. Then she can have four girls just like me and be a rich woman.”

“I hear there can be bitter rivalries among women.”

She snorted. “And there aren’t bitter rivalries among men? There’s always a higher mountain, they say.”

“Or someone who feels the need to exert their superiority,” he agreed.

The constable’s openness surprised her, as did the hint of bitterness in his tone. He said nothing more though and the burden was on her to keep the conversation flowing.

“If men didn’t constantly fight for position among one another, my role would be highly diminished,” she mused.

“Your role?”

“I’m wondering whether I should forgive the skepticism I hear in your voice, Constable.”

“I thought a courtesan’s duty was to play music and convince men to imbibe more wine than they would when drinking alone.” He paused to grant her a sideways glance. “And to be beautiful.”

And Mingyu had thought she was immune to compliments. Of course, she wasn’t quite certain that Wu’s statement was a compliment. Maybe that was why her stomach fluttered the way it did.

“A banquet mistress’ task is to promote harmony and balance. She can perform her duties through playing an instrument or conversation or sometimes a look given at the right time to the right person.”

They had reached the end of the lane and Mingyu paused to grant him an evocative look to make her point. She thought she saw Wu’s hard mouth break into the faintest of smiles, but it was too dark to be certain.

Passing the time with Constable Wu wasn’t unpleasant at all. Mingyu slowed her step to prolong their return.

“At a gathering, if I find an honored guest is reluctant to speak, I make him comfortable and draw him out,” she continued. “On the other hand, if a guest oversteps his bounds, then I have to put him in his place.”

“A constable’s duty is not nearly so complicated,” Wu replied. “He detains criminals and drags them to the prison house.”

“But that isn’t all you do.”

What little she had seen of Wu’s interaction with the magistrate told her he played a much more important role.

There was a long pause before he spoke. “It seems lately I’m the one who has overstepped his bounds.”

“In what manner?”

Wu chose not to answer. “Did Deng Zhi often wear his sword?” he asked instead.

“His sword—” The sudden shift in his tone startled her.

“Was he usually armed?”

“I...I believe so. General Deng wore his sword in public for appearances.”

“And in private?”

He was the exacting constable once more. Mingyu had to think back. It really had been a long time since she’d last seen the general.

“Rarely for private meetings,” she concluded.

“You told me he was always prepared for danger. Deng Zhi was a soldier and a general.”

“But he was a statesman first. Openly carrying a weapon in certain circumstances would be seen as a sign of fear.”

His expression grew serious as he considered the information. “So Deng did rely heavily on his bodyguards.”

Mingyu had the impression that Wu was no longer truly with her, taking a stroll in the autumn evening. His head was back in the investigation as he pondered suspects and evidence and other grim and unpleasant things.

When they reached the back door of the tavern, the warmth she had felt between them had faded. Perhaps it had never really been there.

She paused at the doorway. Now was the time for some pleasantry; she could thank him for his company or she might confess she had enjoyed their discussion, but none of it rang true at the moment.

“This conversation has been enlightening,” she managed.

“I’m convinced Deng knew his assassin,” he said in return.

Mingyu blinked at him, at a loss. What did one say to that?

“My sisters will be waiting for me,” she excused, turning to go back inside. Wu closed the distance between them and suddenly she found his hand just above hers on the door.

It was clear he’d meant to open it for her, but Wu went still as they were caught in a near embrace. She could hear the deepening of his breath. The sheer physical presence of him surrounded her. Rather than shrinking away, she turned to face him.

Wu retreated a step, but he was still close enough that his head and shoulders blocked out the lantern light, clothing them in darkness. The scent of him drifted to her, a combination of sandalwood and warm, masculine skin that piqued her senses.

Her heart was beating relentlessly now, partly in fear and, it was impossible to deny, partly with pleasure. If he was someone else, if he wasn’t Wu Kaifeng, then she would be in trouble for certain.

“I have no manners,” he apologized, the roughness of his voice stroking over her.

“Well, Constable,” she purred. “Then I shall have to put you in your place.”

CHAPTER NINE

MADAME SUN KEPT Mingyu from attending to guests the next day and allowed thoughtful inquiries about her well-being to build up. By evening the day after, Mingyu finally emerged to hold court in the main parlor of the Lotus Palace.

“You had a crowd of admirers wanting to see you,” Madame boasted. “I had to turn people away.”

The headmistress possessed a talent for creating opportunity. And Mingyu, as always, played her part perfectly. At least she thought she did until Mingyu caught Madame gesturing to her while she was pouring wine for a minister of some department or another. At a reasonable pause in the conversation, she excused herself.

Madame dragged her through the curtain into the hallway. “What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing is wrong, Mother.”

“You’re usually a jewel in a crowded room, outshining everyone. But tonight you’re more like a dull rock. Where’s the light in your eyes?”

“Oh, Mother.” Mingyu affected a pleasant laugh. “Do you expect me to shine for all of the gentlemen in there before determining who is truly worth the effort? And didn’t you arrange this evening so Ziyi might be noticed, as well?”

“Well...”

“Don’t worry, Mother. You’ve taught me well.”

Madame smiled crookedly. “I was worried that my Mingyu was actually heartbroken.”

“Should I act so?” she asked with a crafty look. “It will be ever so endearing.”

“Oh, scholars love a tragedy!” Madame was practically gleeful.

Mingyu peered through the slit in the curtain. There were four callers currently in the room, talking and laughing. Ziyi was smoothing over the conversation in her absence while Little Hong had taken over pouring the wine. Her role was to remain silent and learn from her older courtesan-sisters.

“Many new faces tonight,” Mingyu remarked.

“All distinguished names. You no longer need to attract the young and hopeful. We’ll find you a patron as highly respected as General Deng.”

Mingyu’s stomach sank. “And as generous,” she muttered.

“Well, of course.” A small frown creased Madame’s brow. “There is something wrong.”

Mingyu shook her head. “Everything is fine.”

Breathing deep, she passed once more through the curtain and removed one mask to put on another. Over the years, she had trained and cultivated her image, but the true person Mingyu had learned how to charm was Madame Sun. Tonight even that effort exhausted her.

The only person she never had to put on a show for was Wu Kaifeng. He would be unimpressed with Madame Sun’s schemes upon schemes.

Oddly, Wu hadn’t come by to ask any more questions about Deng’s death. It wasn’t that she was disappointed not to see him. Of course not. Mingyu had just expected Constable Wu would be more persistent.

Perhaps she should consider it a blessing. Mingyu was free from suspicion and needed to see to her future. Madame was right to plan for her security now that the general was gone.

She returned to the parlor at the same time another guest arrived, one with the gray hair of a snow monkey and the wide shoulders of an ox.

“Why so gloomy tonight, my dear?” the burly scholar asked.

“Taizhu! What are you doing here?”

“I was invited due to my illustrious reputation, of course,” he said with his chest puffed out.

Surely Madame didn’t expect Taizhu to show an interest in her. He was nearly sixty and, despite his appointment to the Hanlin Academy, was not wealthy enough by Madame’s standards. He certainly couldn’t afford to redeem her from the Lotus Palace. Taizhu had always been more of an old uncle to her than a suitor.

Mingyu took his arm, which was allowed due to his age and their longtime association. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“You don’t look happy.”

“Conversation is hard for me tonight,” she confessed. “I don’t know why.”

They continued in a low tone that was easily buried beneath the laughter that rang from the sitting area. Ziyi was doing an admirable job of engaging the attention of the four gentlemen present.

“Ziyi is young.” Mingyu observed how the men hung on her every word. “She can say whatever she wants and they’ll compliment her for her audacity and youthful energy.”

“And you’re a withering old hag at the age of twenty-eight,” the scholar concurred.

She nudged her elbow into his ribs, making him chuckle.

Mingyu was finding it hard to be clever, to be thoughtful, to be witty. These men had come here expecting eloquence and poetry from her, but she would have to disappoint them.

Unable to delay any longer, Mingyu introduced Taizhu to the other officials present who immediately drank to him, a sign of respect for both his rank and age.

“We were discussing earlier what Deng Zhi’s death might mean to the safety of the capital,” one of them began. “As dangerous as the general was, he kept the other tigers away. What is your opinion on this, honored historian?”

“Depressing, depressing.” Taizhu waved the question away like he would a gnat. “It’s been too long since I’ve heard you play, Lady Mingyu. Grace these old ears with a song.”

Mingyu slid him a grateful look and sent Little Hong to fetch her qin.

Deng was equally respected and detested by the scholar-elite who regarded all military leaders with a wary eye. She didn’t need to be constantly reminded of how Deng had fallen out of favor.

“Is there a song the illustrious historian wishes to hear?” Mingyu asked.

“Honored this, illustrious that.” Taizhu waved his titles aside. “Play me the first song that comes to your heart, my lady.”

Little Hong returned holding a wooden case in her arms, which she set down on the low table. Mingyu took over the task of lifting the instrument from the case.

The qin was a stringed zither with a long base. The size of it made it difficult to transport, which was probably why the qin was currently less popular than the pipa in the banquet halls. It was also a harder skill to master.

Mingyu laid the base board onto a low table before the group and seated herself behind it. She had studied music since she’d come to the capital, at the age of twelve. After a moment to tune the strings, Mingyu affixed the ivory guards over her fingers and plucked out the first notes.

As the melody filled the room, Mingyu focused her attention inward and enjoyed the hum of music inside of her. The low, vibrating sounds held an inherent weight and sadness within them. The song wasn’t pretty, but it drew one in nonetheless. The individual notes demanded attention. They hung in the air forever so the listener never knew when one would end and the next one would fall. Like raindrops that obeyed no one’s command.

Guests always told her she looked beautiful when she played. As if she were playing just to impress them. But she never played for anyone but herself.

Midway through the song, a sixth gentleman entered the parlor. It was impossible not to notice the hush that fell over the room.

Madame Sun hovered by his side like an eager hummingbird upon discovering a flower. From the depth of her bow and the solicitous way she hung on his every word, Mingyu would say Madame was fawning over him.

The newcomer was notably younger than the rest of the party. The scholars in attendance must have been at least in their forties with Taizhu being the eldest, while this man was close to her in age.

He was well-dressed, his robe dark blue and made of a fine silk brocade. His features were square, his jaw and nose broad. Not beautiful, but a certain kind of handsome. Instead of joining the others, he took a seat at the far side of the room. Madame Sun had Little Hong bring him a pot of tea instead of wine. He raised the first cup to his lips, then leaned back to listen. Then he caught her watching him.

She didn’t look away. Mingyu never looked away. Her hands continued to move over the strings and she took her time before returning her attention to the instrument before her.

Once the song was finished, there was applause, praise, effusive commentary. The new arrival had set his teacup down and was looking away to study a painting of plum blossoms and sparrows on the wall. Two fingers tapped the table absently with disinterest. With overly obvious disinterest.

Ziyi took Mingyu’s place at the center of the gathering, playing the pipa to a much happier tune. The stranger still had not joined the party or introduced himself.

Mingyu bent toward Taizhu. “Do you know who that is?”

The old historian spared a quick glance over his shoulder. “He doesn’t look familiar to me.”

Madame Sun had deliberately set him apart. Clearly the man was waiting for her approach. Mingyu did so as gracefully as she could while Ziyi continued to play.

“My lord, your cup is empty.”

The gentleman glanced up as if he’d been unaware of her approach until that moment. “It is,” he agreed.

He wore no scholar’s cap and his robes, though expensive, did not denote any sort of rank. A merchant, perhaps? He could be aristocracy, but he didn’t seem to possess the careless sense of authority that came with a noble upbringing. His manners were practiced and his control deliberate.

Mingyu knelt opposite him at the low table. With her wrist artfully posed, she pulled her sleeve clear and reached for the teapot to pour. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw how he watched her, transfixed. The knot of his throat lifted as he swallowed. Upon the table, the fingers of his left hand curled and uncurled restlessly.

“‘Lonely Orchid,’” he remarked. “The song you were playing.”

She smiled, in part to put him at ease. “I am pleased that you recognized it.”

“It suits you.”

“How unfortunate. It’s not a happy song.”

“You have sad eyes,” he observed. “Even when you smile, there is always sadness beneath it.”

The boldness of his statement took her aback. “I hardly know if that’s a compliment or not.”

“I’ve always thought that was why men became so fascinated with you. A woman who is merely beautiful is commonplace. A woman with a mystery hidden deep inside can keep a man captivated forever.”

He kept his gaze fixed squarely on her as he spoke. The man acted as if he knew her, but his familiarity left her uneasy.

“Have we met before, my lord?”

“I used to frequent the North Hamlet in my younger days like so many examination candidates,” he confessed. “Once I even drank at the Lotus Palace.”

“Then we happily welcome you back.”

“Do you really?” His eyebrows were black and well defined. He raised them pointedly at her.

The fine hairs rose on the back of her neck. There was something decidedly off balance about this exchange. The man was testing her, but for what purpose?

“If the gentleman will allow me to know his name.”

“If the lady would honor me by having a cup of tea with me.” It was more command than invitation. No matter that there were other guests to attend to.

With a smile, albeit a wary one, Mingyu lifted a cup from the tray, but when she reached for the pot, the gentleman intercepted it and poured for her with a confident and steady hand.

He set the teapot down. “You do not remember me.”

“Forgive me, sir. I can’t seem to recall.”

“Perhaps it is a good sign that you do not remember. I was nothing but a pale-faced scholar and you—” He paused, his expression momentarily wistful. “You were already a great beauty.”

“My lord is too kind.” Though she was accustomed to flattery in these circles, something about his manner unsettled her.

“I wished to remain unknown so my position would not affect your initial impression of me,” he explained. “I am known as Xi Lun, attendant censor of the Palace Bureau.”

He paused with a satisfied air. That pause told her she needed to act suitably impressed.

“Inspector Xi, what an honor! Forgive me for my ignorance.”

He was enjoying her surprise while displaying outward signs of humility, though only making a halfhearted attempt. Mingyu assessed his character in that one action alone.

Xi Lun preferred stealth, an ambush. He always wanted to have the advantage.

“How does the Lotus compare now to your visit so many years ago?” she asked.

“Even more captivating than I remembered.”

He raised his cup to her. They drank for a moment in silence while Ziyi finished her song to enthusiastic applause.

“Lady Mingyu, you must come join us!” Old Taizhu called out across the room. “We can’t let some young upstart corner you for himself.”

She loved that old man. At his age, he could get away with anything.

Xi Lun’s smile froze on his face. “A moment longer, if you please.”

The request was delivered beneath his breath, but there was no mistaking it was meant to be obeyed.

“Of course, Inspector.”

“My condolences for General Deng Zhi,” he began. “I know you were...close to him.”

She didn’t know if it was worth denying, so she bowed her head instead. “We are all greatly saddened by the tragedy.”

“As is the entire empire by the passing of such a great man. The Emperor has called for a state funeral and an official day of mourning. I must confess, though, there were times when I hated him.”

Her pulse jumped and once again her skin prickled in warning. “Hated?”

“Because I realized long ago that only a man like Deng Zhi could ever possess someone like you.”

In a different tone, a lighter one, the sentiment might have been endearing. Instead, Xi Lun spoke with a tone that was both cold and calculated.

“I hate to feel envious of anyone, Lady Mingyu. I knew I would have to be diligent, that I would have to toil day and night to make a name for myself.”

“It appears you have succeeded admirably, Inspector Xi.”

“Not yet.” He looked down into his cup, absorbed in thought. “When one is climbing the ranks, there is always another step above. But your face continued to inspire me on many late nights. Your image, and even this place—” He paused to glance around them. “This place became the manifestation of all I wanted to achieve. My heart is very happy, Lady Mingyu, to finally make your acquaintance here at the Lotus Palace.”

She nodded, wanting very much to flee from his intense stare. Instead, Mingyu maintained a pleasant expression as she drank her tea. All the while, her heart thudded inside her chest.

It was always dangerous dealing with powerful men, especially those whose pride was displayed so eagerly. Those were the ones who were easily offended. Those were the admirers who could turn on you in a heartbeat.

CHAPTER TEN

GENERAL DENG’S FUNERAL was a state affair, as festive as it was solemn. Drumbeats sounded from sunrise through the Dragon Hour on the appointed day. A hundred soldiers were to march in the funeral procession with banners raised to show the Emperor’s favor.

As Kaifeng patrolled the Three Lanes, he watched the inhabitants of the Lotus Palace assemble outside to make the journey out of the ward. Most of the quarter had left early that morning to gather along the Imperial Way, the main road that ran down the length of the capital. Mingyu was conspicuously absent as the ladies of the Lotus climbed into two carriages and set off.

Glancing up to the rooftop pavilion, he detected a flutter of silk from behind one of the pillars. Someone remained up there, perched at the very edge. His pulse jumped and his instincts ignited.

Mingyu had acted out of character the last time he had seen her, retreating into a dark alleyway as if she didn’t want company. Then she’d drawn him outside with her, as if she didn’t want to be alone. Yet she was alone now.

Every time he’d encountered Mingyu, she was among admirers or attended by her servants or her sisters, as she called them. He tried to imagine why she would be up on the rooftop by herself today and his mind went to a dark place.

He crossed the street in several long strides and found the doors to the pleasure house unlocked. The parlors and sitting rooms inside were all empty. The place lost its luster in the daytime when it wasn’t filled with music and enchanting young ladies.

A sense of urgency grew within him as he climbed the stairs toward the third floor. When he reached the top step, he saw Mingyu seated at the edge of the open pavilion overlooking the city. One shoulder leaned against the red column and her head rested against the wood, exposing the long, elegant line of her figure.

He let out a breath. She had a wine cup in one hand which she sipped from daintily. Her pose was relaxed, serene even. The sound of the ceremonial drums must have drowned out his approach since Mingyu continued to stare into the distance.

“Lady Mingyu,” he greeted.

She swung around, startled, but relaxed a moment later when she recognized him.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“I’ve seen my former lover with his head removed. Nothing frightens me anymore.”

“I noticed you did not leave with the others.”

Mingyu remained where she was, though she shifted slightly to face him. “If you are here to visit some calamity upon me, Constable, I should warn you that Old Auntie is downstairs. She is deadly with a kitchen knife.”

Wu nodded gravely. “Chickens must tremble before her.”

Her lips pressed together momentarily before she gave in and let out a little laugh. Mingyu was undeniably beautiful, but she became truly pretty when she laughed. Her face brightened and the mask of cool beauty that set her apart melted away.

“Join me.” Mingyu gestured toward the column next to hers. After a moment’s hesitation, he went and sank down against it. They reclined across from one another, two mismatched mirror images.

“An assistant from the magistrate’s office came by to question us yesterday,” she began. “Are you no longer investigating General Deng’s death?”

He made a face. “There are those who think the case should be in the hands of more capable men.”

“How unfortunate.”

“I would think you would be relieved.”

“Why should I be? You’ve treated me fairly, Constable.”

Wu rested an arm over one knee as he regarded her. “You chose not to attend the funeral procession.”

“I’ll hardly be missed.”

“But you and General Deng were—” He paused to search for a suitable phrase. “Closely associated.”

“We make as if such a relationship is so important, but it means nothing outside of the quarter. I was the general’s occasional companion. A songstress and a diversion. This is a dream world, Constable. We don’t exist outside it.”

“Avoiding the funeral could be seen as a sign of guilt.”

Mingyu shrugged her shoulders, unperturbed. “I know what you’ve done for me, Wu Kaifeng. I have no explanation for how I behaved when I found Deng murdered. I don’t even know why I came first to you. I just felt that I had to.”

“You were shocked and frightened. Death is not an easy thing. It isn’t meant to be.”

She reached for her cup again. “But there was blood on my hands.”

“I was once discovered lifting the lifeless bodies of my father and mother into an oxcart.”

Mingyu’s eyes grew wide and she nearly choked on her wine.

“It was a long time ago,” he amended, which didn’t seem to lessen the shock. Kaifeng didn’t know what had compelled him to reveal that part of his past.

“I knew they were gone the moment I saw them that morning,” he went on. “But I thought I needed to do something. I couldn’t stay, but I couldn’t leave them. If I could just get them to the physician, then maybe...”

He fell silent, suddenly a thousand miles and many years away.

“You’re flesh and blood, after all,” she murmured, holding out the cup to him. The color of the liquor was pale green against the porcelain. “It’s bamboo-leaf wine. The most expensive jug in our cellar.”

Still caught in a fog, Kaifeng stretched forward to take the cup from her. Their fingertips brushed lightly in the exchange and he felt her gaze on him as he took a sip. The wine was sweetened and steeped in cinnamon and spice with a slightly bitter herbal note underneath. Almost medicinal in nature.

“Ginseng,” he detected. “And snow lotus.”

Mingyu raised her shapely eyebrows, duly impressed. “It was General Deng’s favorite.”

“You’re sentimental, Lady Mingyu.”

It was a revelation. She was a revelation.

“I’m not,” she denied, avoiding his eyes. “Madame Sun purchased the wine especially for Deng. What use is keeping it now?”

He set the empty cup down between them and she poured out more of the spiced wine, but he declined when she offered it to him.

“How old were you when your father and mother passed away?” she asked.

“Fourteen.”

“Such a tragedy.”

Before Kaifeng realized it, he was offering her the details of the incident. “At first I was accused of killing them, but Old Guo, the physician who later took me in, convinced the magistrate I wasn’t to blame. He never did find out for certain what had caused their deaths. An evil wind, Guo called it.”

Mingyu’s expression softened as she listened to his tale. “Did you feel that you were looking at everything through a veil? I felt that way after General Deng’s death. Nothing seemed clear, as if I were looking at the world through a haze of smoke.”

“Sometimes I think the veil was never lifted for me,” he admitted.

He regretted it the moment he said it. This was a luridly personal detail, but Mingyu didn’t appear offended.

“Does that help you do what you do?”

He raised a questioning eyebrow. “What I do?”

“Facing death and such—” She struggled to find a word. “Such tragedy without becoming overwhelmed?”

“Perhaps, but it isn’t always an asset. I was a devoted son to my parents, but I never had the sense that I mourned them as I should.”

A breeze stirred between them high up on the pavilion. When it settled, Kaifeng was stricken by the sense that something was different between them. Mingyu regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and sympathy, but it wasn’t the practiced look of a courtesan.

“You do have a talent for getting men to confide in you,” he remarked.

“One of many talents.”

The affected look returned in the form of a coy smile, but it couldn’t mask what he’d seen of her. Mingyu played absently with the wine cup now, but didn’t drink.

“Sometimes talent can be a curse,” she mused.

“It’s made you the most sought-after courtesan in the Pingkang li.”

A brittle laugh escaped her lips. “I think Madame Sun wants to sell me off to someone.”

A knot formed in his chest that he had no explanation for. “And this is someone you don’t wish to belong to?”

“I don’t want to belong to anyone.” Mingyu laid her head back against the wooden column. “When you told me it was difficult to look at me...did you say it because I have sad eyes?”

“Sad eyes?”

Kaifeng didn’t even know what that meant. Was this some poetic reference?

She tried to wave the question aside. “It doesn’t matter. It was ridiculous, anyway.”

“It’s difficult to look at you because you make me want things,” he answered plainly. “Things I cannot have.”

Mingyu straightened and he could see the jump of her pulse along her throat. Kaifeng rose slowly, straightening to his full, imposing height, while she scrambled to her feet.

As constable, Kaifeng knew what fear looked like. It wasn’t fear that he saw in her eyes as they focused on him.

“Why would you care what this constable thinks?” he asked quietly.

There was no menace in his approach, but Mingyu backed away nonetheless until her shoulder blades collided against the wooden column.

“I’m ill-mannered,” he continued. “Unsightly. Nothing to anyone that matters.”

Her breathing quickened as he bent to her and he could see her pupils growing wide and dark. The effect was strikingly sensual. Mingyu raised her hand to his face. Her fingers trembled as she touched the hard line of his jaw.

“It’s not true,” she murmured. “You’re not really like that.”

He smiled crookedly at her. “Not ugly?”

“Not...nothing.”

Her face was tilted toward him. She regarded him from beneath her lashes, her cheeks flushed, and there was nothing he could do but kiss her. He pressed his mouth to hers, searching. For what, he didn’t know, but his heart beat hard and fast when she didn’t pull away.

Kaifeng didn’t reach for her with his hands. Only their lips touched and hers were soft and warm and more tempting than he could have ever imagined. Mingyu returned the kiss tentatively, also searching. The tip of her tongue caressed his mouth in a feather touch that tasted of cinnamon and sweetness.

The drums had stopped beating. It wouldn’t be long before the others returned to invade their sanctuary, but until then he took what he could from the moment.

When they finally broke apart, they remained close. He could hear the catch in Mingyu’s breath when she spoke.

“Don’t think too much of this,” she warned, so soft that it was a whisper.

Her head tilted upward to look at him. Though her eyes were clouded with desire, he could see her mind was racing, calculating. His hands circled her waist and came to rest over her hips.

“I won’t,” he promised before kissing her once more to chase her thoughts away.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“INSPECTOR XI LUN was recently promoted by the Emperor himself,” Magistrate Li reported.

Kaifeng rode beside him on horseback as they headed toward the residential ward in the northeastern section of the city. They were accompanied by a clerk to act as record keeper. With General Deng Zhi laid to rest, Li Yen had finally deemed it appropriate for them to speak to the family. He also took the hour-long journey as an opportunity to review the details he’d collected on his new adversary.

“Xi Lun has enjoyed some success weeding out corruption at the prefecture level and is considered one of the Emperor’s chief reformers. New blood. Now he seems to have targeted us as a way to advance his career.”

Over the past week, the censor had visited the magistrate’s offices every day, at times staying for over an hour to review their progress. At other times the visit was merely cursory, just so they would be reminded they were under scrutiny.

“Considering this, how should we handle this investigation?” Kaifeng asked.

“Continue as you always have,” Li said with a defiant scowl. “Let me deal with Xi. I’ll put the clerks to work meticulously recording every word spoken and every last detail. The inspector will have a mountain of paperwork to climb.”

“Perhaps our efforts are better spent focusing on the case,” he suggested dryly.

“If my suspicions are correct, there is more at work than just this case. Someone was trying to discredit us before General Deng’s murder.”

The walls surrounding the northeastern ward were ostensibly higher and decorated with banners. There were also more guards at the gate and the residences inside were vast palaces of painted wood and tile. Only the wealthiest families and the highest ranking officials, often carrying generations of noble blood, kept households in this part of the city. It occurred to Kaifeng that Magistrate Li had to have family connections here even though he made his own home within the more humble surroundings of the judicial compound.

Deng’s mansion was marked with a wooden placard over the front gate. A team of attendants rushed out to take charge of their horses as soon as they dismounted and an elderly manservant in a plain brown robe stood in front of the house to greet them.

The servant introduced himself as Yuan Lo, the house steward. Mister Yuan was thin in the face and there were slivers of gray at his temples visible from beneath his cap. He carried himself in a manner that was both respectful and obedient.

“Magistrate Li.” He bowed at the waist to the precise prescribed angle and straightened. To Kaifeng and the clerk, he afforded a nod. “This humble servant welcomes you. Your visit honors us.”

The courtyard was decorated with a well-tended garden, each rock and leaf in place. A circle of trees had been planted along the perimeter. Half were in flower while the others displayed a burst of yellow-and-red leaves. A fish pond graced the far end, spanned by a walking bridge.

Kaifeng was not usually impressed by such luxury, but his hovel could fit within the space of the fish pond. The carp here lived a more luxurious life than most of the inhabitants of the city.

This was the sort of wealth required to capture the attention of a courtesan like Mingyu, at least for more than a stolen moment. After the kiss, Mingyu had granted him a soft, wistful smile as they parted. They both knew nothing more could become of it.

“Please come inside for tea.”

The servant’s invitation drew Kaifeng back to the present and the investigation. They followed the man into the main part of the house and entered a parlor. A middle-aged woman stood inside to greet them. Her hair was fixed into a tidy knot at the nape of her neck and her robe was cut simply, dyed in a rich green color that was almost black to the eye.

“Magistrate Li.” She bowed respectfully. “I am General Deng’s wife.”

“Deng Furen.”

He addressed her with the proper honorific before taking a seat upon one of the lacquered chairs. Kaifeng and the young clerk remained standing.

“Madame, we are sorry to intrude upon you during this unfortunate time.”

“I understand. You must do your duty.”

Madame Deng’s hair was grayer than one would expect on such a young face. It was streaked through with pale silver, though her face was unlined except for a few faint creases about her mouth. They gave her a perpetually anxious expression, though granted she was still mourning her husband’s recent death.

“When was the last time you saw the general?”

“The evening before he was found. We shared the evening meal and spoke of routine things. He left early the next morning while most of the house was still asleep.”

“Did he tell you where he was going?”

“He didn’t need to. My husband’s business was his own. I only concern myself with the running of the household and our son’s education.”

“Of course, Madame,” Li replied hastily. “Did anything seem unusual? Did the general appear concerned or agitated?”

“No. He had no reason to be.”

According to Madame Deng, her husband also had no enemies. He was well-respected. No, there was no one she knew of who resented his status. The Emperor himself had honored Deng Zhi with a state funeral fit for a hero, she reminded them.

“The Son of Heaven commissioned a head carved out of jade for him,” she boasted. “So my husband could be buried whole.”

The widow spoke with pride, but a moment later she broke. Blinking rapidly, she dabbed a handkerchief to her eyes. It was her first display of emotion since the conversation had begun, but she quickly composed herself.

Kaifeng bit his tongue through it all. The interview was entirely worthless. It was clear Deng’s widow refused to admit there was any unrest in the home. Certainly not to strangers. If she had witnessed her husband showing fear or anger, it was her duty to remain silent and protect his privacy, even if it meant his killer would never be found.

Madame Deng wasn’t concerned with justice or retribution. Public face and respectability were more important to her.

Murder, Kaifeng knew, tainted everyone involved, even its victims. Murder involved secrets, dishonesty and ill-fortune, whether deserved or undeserved.

“Madame, did you know your husband was going to meet a woman?” Kaifeng interjected.

The widow shot him a startled look, shocked that such a creature would speak. Her gaze narrowed momentarily, but she turned to Magistrate Li to answer. Apparently conversing with a constable was beneath her.

“I was aware that my husband would use the property to meet a particular courtesan. He has had a long-time association with her, but the particulars of that relationship were his own affair.” She tucked her handkerchief into her sleeve and smoothed out her robe with fastidious care. “I hear Lady Mingyu is very talented, the embodiment of elegance and cultivation. I have no wish to darken my husband’s memory with sordid gossip.”

“That was not my intention, Furen, but it would help to have a more honest account on your part.”

“Constable Wu,” Li admonished him, not sharply, but certainly in a firm tone.

“I only wished to know if it was common knowledge where the general would be that morning.”

He also meant to assess whether there was any ill-will between the two women as Mingyu had insinuated.

“Perhaps you should speak to the servants in the household instead, Constable.”

Kaifeng bit his tongue and bowed to the magistrate. “Yes, sir.”

Leaving the magistrate and Deng’s widow to their conversation, Kaifeng retreated from the parlor back out into the sunlight of the courtyard. Li Yen, for his frustrating adherence to etiquette, was also an intelligent official. Kaifeng trusted Li would get the answers they needed, even if he had to take the whole afternoon to ask politely for them.

The garden outside was empty. The elderly steward and other servants had disappeared into the depths of the house, but Kaifeng saw movement in the inner courtyard. The flash of a steel blade caught his eye.

He ventured through the circular passage that separated the two areas and discovered a youth of about fifteen or sixteen years sparring with a tall bearded man who appeared to be his instructor. Despite the youth’s age, there was maturity in his stance and confidence in how he handled his sword.

“Much better, my young lord,” his master praised at the end of the match. “Be careful of overextending yourself when attacking the left side.”

The youth’s concentration, which had been unshakable during the sparring match, had become divided. He was staring at Kaifeng.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“Wu Kaifeng, head constable working under Magistrate Li Yen.”

“Constable Wu, eh? I see you have a sword at your side. Do you have any experience using it?” His question was delivered with a haughty air.

“I served in the militia in Suzhou province.”

The youth look pleased. “I am Deng Enlai, son of Deng Zhi. Would the constable be interested in a sparring match?”

“I think that would not be appropriate at this time.”

“Not appropriate for you to honor the request of a high general’s son in his own home? I need practice against an opponent who is much larger than I. It is not always easy finding one.”

Kaifeng assessed the young man’s height. Enlai must have taken after his father, though Kaifeng had only witnessed the general’s stature without his head. What Kaifeng had seen was a broad-shouldered man with a torso as thick as a tree trunk. Deng possessed a warrior’s physique which he had passed down to his son. Enlai already towered over his master.

“If the young lord insists, then I must comply.”

“Oh, I insist.” There was a gleam in the youth’s eye.

If he wanted answers, it would be a benefit to ingratiate himself with the new lord of the house. Kaifeng entered the clearing at the center of the courtyard.

“Don’t hold anything back, Constable.”

“Then you might consider exchanging our blades for practice swords.”

Enlai made a rude noise. “A practice blade lacks the weight and heft of a true sword. It teaches a warrior bad habits.”

Kaifeng had to admit he admired the sentiment. Deng’s son wielded a broadsword much like his own. It was single-edged with a straight blade. The same dao that was issued to officers of the imperial army.

They squared off against one another at opposite ends of the clearing. The arms master remained close by to observe the match. The young lord advanced and Kaifeng stepped forward to engage, committing to the movement. His first attack sent Enlai a few steps back and put him on the defensive.

Deng Enlai was indeed dedicated to his sword technique. Kaifeng could see the precision born of drills and repetitive stances and forms. Even as tall as Enlai was, Kaifeng was nearly a head taller, his reach longer. He also had the experience that came from fighting, not for honor or reputation, but for survival.

Kaifeng stayed on the offensive, gaining ground step by step. The clash of metal rang out through the courtyard as Enlai was forced to parry a blow. The young man was well within striking range and off-balance. Sweat gathered above his eyes and he swiped it away impatiently.

It was only a matter of time. Enlai was showing signs of exhaustion and Kaifeng detected the moment when his guard lowered. His blade slipped through the opening to slice into Enlai’s upper arm.

The youth fell back, one hand clutching the cut. To his credit, Enlai didn’t drop his sword. His eyes flashed with pure hatred as he stood his ground at the edge of the practice area. Kaifeng knew that look. It was fueled by a dangerous mix of anger and insult. Even the weapons master straightened and started toward them with a look of alarm on his face.

A moment later, the storm cloud dissipated as quickly as it came. Enlai stepped back and bowed.

“Thank you for educating me, Constable.” His jaw remained stiff as he spoke. “This has been a valuable lesson.”

“I was only able to take the advantage because the young lord was winded from his earlier practice session,” Kaifeng remarked.

An attendant rushed forward to see to Deng’s wound, but the youth waved him away. “This is nothing. Go fetch the case from the collection room.”

Enlai handed over his sword to his master and Kaifeng took that as a sign to sheathe his own weapon.

“Since you’ve proven yourself with the sword, Constable Wu, I wish to show you something, a family treasure, as a token of my respect.”

The attendant returned carrying a long lacquered case in pure black. Kneeling, he held the box up to the young lord, lifting it with both hands over his head. With the same sense of ceremony, Enlai opened the lid.

“This was gifted to my father by the former Emperor himself. It was forged by sword-maker Ou Yitai.” Reverently, Enlai removed a sword from the silk wrappings and held it out.

Kaifeng took the sword in hand, appreciating the weight of the steel before unsheathing it to reveal no more than two finger-lengths of the blade. The metal gleamed in the sunlight.

“Fine steelwork,” Kaifeng remarked as he returned the sword.

“So few can truly appreciate its value.”

Deng Enlai unsheathed the blade in dramatic fashion, making it sing as it slid free of the scabbard. Another attendant wheeled out what looked like a thick column of bamboo affixed to a wooden base.

The youth positioned himself before the bamboo column, taking one breath in and letting one breath out before stilling himself. With both hands, he gradually lifted the blade, slow and steady, before striking with the quickness of a viper.

A thick section of bamboo fell to the ground.

The bamboo was hollow, but as Kaifeng inspected the column, he appreciated how the sword had sliced clean through. The edge was smooth, without splinters.

“A very well-crafted blade indeed,” he commended.

“The best,” the son insisted.

While the group watched in silence, Enlai cleaned the blade before sheathing it and placing it back into its case. As the lid closed, Enlai grew quiet.

“The sword was one of my father’s most valuable possessions. And now it passes to me.”

He waved the attendants and his sword master away.

“General Deng was well respected,” Kaifeng began. “And a formidable opponent, but a man such as your father must have attracted many enemies.”

“All great warriors have enemies,” Enlai declared. “My father’s adversaries refused to face him in battle. They preferred to attack him in underhanded ways, hurling accusations in the imperial court. It’s no surprise they sent a filthy assassin to do this deed.”

The son bowed his head. He touched a hand absently to the cut on his arm, peering at the bloodstain on his fingers. “Father’s death was undeserved. Beheaded as if he were some cowardly traitor. I vowed to find the bastard who did it and visit the same punishment upon him.”

“Who were these adversaries you speak of?”

“Everyone,” Deng Enlai said through his teeth. His expression hardened as he looked up at the beheaded bamboo stalk. “Everyone.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

“INSPECTOR XI LUN has requested a private meeting with you tonight.”

Those were Madame Sun’s first words to Mingyu that morning as she descended from her chamber.

“Quite a triumph for you, Mother. General Deng is only ten days gone and already you’ve recruited his replacement.”

“Oh, don’t pretend to carry any sentiment for him. You didn’t even attend the funeral.”

As if standing in a crowd of thousands would prove her devotion. Mingyu had hoped to get through the morning without a confrontation. Over the past few days, Madame had become increasingly short-tempered, going so far as to shout at Little Hong in front of guests when she spilled a few drops of tea. Whenever their headmistress was upset, life became more difficult for everyone at the Lotus Palace.

Madame looked over Mingyu’s cloak with a wary eye. “Where are you going?”

“To the temple.” Her voice dripped with sweetness. “If Mother would kindly allow it.”

Madame snorted.

Mingyu was in a rebellious mood, as well. Kissing someone entirely unacceptable could have something to do with that. Her stolen and precious hour with Wu Kaifeng emboldened her more than it should have.

“You need to prepare for tonight,” Madame insisted.

“You needn’t worry. Ziyi and I will return long before this evening,” Mingyu said with a sigh. “The inspector will have tea in my sitting room. I’ll be charming.”

“Well, try not to be too charming.”

Madame glanced away, but not before Mingyu caught her troubled look. She knew the headmistress’s mood swings too well to dismiss this one.

“Was it not your plan that I catch Xi Lun’s eye? Why else did you invite him the other evening?”

“The inspector came uninvited! He learned of the gathering on his own and would not be refused.”

“Then you’re not encouraging Xi Lun’s advances?”

Madame shook her head. “Maybe it’s a passing fancy. The allure will fade after a few meetings.”

It was entirely unlike Madame to hope a patron would lose interest.

“Why are you so worried about the inspector? He’s neither the wealthiest nor the most influential of our guests.”

“You don’t understand, my dear. As a member of the Palace Bureau, he can make things difficult for many of our patrons. For us.”

Mingyu’s stomach churned. Her skin prickled just as it had during her first meeting with Xi.

“Did he mention that to you, Mother?”

Madame Sun didn’t answer, which was alarming in and of itself.

“Did the inspector threaten us?”

“He didn’t need to.” Her mouth drew tight. “His presence alone is a threat.”

Bureaucrats and scholars came to the Lotus Palace to discuss poetry, politics and anything that came to mind when the hour was late and the wine flowing. Such unguarded commentary could be mistaken as seditious in the wrong light.

“Then maybe I shouldn’t see him. Better to stop this early,” Mingyu suggested, but she was only fooling herself. A man’s interest wasn’t hard to read and Xi Lun had all but marked her as his from the moment he’d walked into her parlor.

“We’ll think of something,” Madame assured her, though her frown had deepened since the conversation began. “We kept General Deng dangling on a line for so many years, didn’t we, daughter?”

“We did,” Mingyu murmured. Something about Madame’s behavior set her on edge. “What if Inspector Xi wants the same thing the general wanted?”

Madame couldn’t meet her eyes. “It hasn’t come to that.”

Her stomach clenched. “Mother?”

“If Xi Lun does ask to redeem you, he may be too dangerous to refuse.”

She stared at the woman who had bought her from the procurer, who had controlled her fate for most of her life. It had been years since she had feared being sold away against her will. No one had dared to ask for her while she was under General Deng’s patronage.

“Are you ready to go, Elder Sister?” Ziyi arrived to interrupt them before she could ask Madame for more information about the inspector.

The younger courtesan was dressed in a bright yellow robe embroidered with pink peach blossoms. In contrast, Mingyu had worn a simple robe of pale blue. A sensual whisper as opposed to a shout. It was better that Ziyi be noticed over her, anyway. Mingyu no longer needed to attract attention. It seemed as if she’d already attracted the wrong sort.

“Be prepared for tonight,” Madame reminded her at the door.

“What happens tonight?” Ziyi asked as they started down the lane.

“A special guest.”

Ziyi’s eyes brightened with interest. “Is he distinguished?”

“Distinguished enough.”

Mingyu kept her gaze focused on the street. Xi Lun wasn’t interested in Mingyu for her talents or even her beauty. He wanted her because powerful men like General Deng wanted her. He only wanted her to elevate his own status unlike Wu Kaifeng who wanted her simply because he desired her. Her and not some illusion.

“Mingyu, are you not well?”

Ziyi’s inquiry pulled her out of her reverie. She pressed a hand to her cheek. “It’s nothing.”

Just the thought of Wu sent a flush to her face.

If Xi Lun were any other guest, she might have feigned illness so Ziyi could entertain in her stead, but the inspector had been possessive. He would certainly take insult if she tried to deflect him. Better to meet the threat face-to-face.

The temple was in the eastern part of the ward, close enough to travel on foot. As it wasn’t a full or new moon, the grounds were relatively empty aside from the disciples who maintained the shrines.

Mingyu had come with the purpose of lighting incense for General Deng. Ten days had gone by since his passing. Today was a special prayer day and no matter how complicated their relationship had been, Deng had been her benefactor. She owed his spirit this small act of remembrance.

Ziyi accompanied her to the main chamber where an altar had been set up with offerings of fruit and rice. Mingyu placed a few coins into the alms bowl, then slipped three joss sticks from the holder and held the ends to a candle on the altar until the incense smoldered and ignited. The warm and cloying scent of camphor filled the air.

After bowing her head to perform the rites, Mingyu retreated back out into the open air of the courtyard. By then, Ziyi had become restless. “Let us explore the market stalls around the temple, Elder Sister.”

As they started toward the gate, an older man in a brown house robe approached them.

“Lady Mingyu,” he greeted with a bow.

“Yuan Lo.” She recognized Deng’s steward as he straightened to face her. “What are you doing here?”

The family would still be in mourning and Mingyu would have expected them to observe the prayer day at home or at one of the grander temples closer to the Deng residence.

“Deng Furen wishes to speak with you,” Yuan said.

Instead of leading her out to the street, he gestured toward an area at the back of the temple.

Ziyi started to protest. “Mingyu, who is this?”

“I will be only a moment. Go and explore without me.”

With a huff, Ziyi turned and did as she was told. She was accustomed to Mingyu getting her way.

Mingyu followed Yuan Lo to the living quarters for the temple disciples. Deng’s widow was seated in one of the compartments, as still as an idol on an altar. The only luxury inside the cell, and a meager one at that, was a bamboo mat laid over the bare floor.

Madame Deng’s countenance was austere, making her appear older than her true age, as did her hair. It was streaked with silver now, much more than Mingyu remembered.

“Sit,” the widow said. “I wish to speak to you about my husband.”

There was only one stool in the room and it was occupied by the widow. Mingyu was forced to kneel upon the mat. Deng Zhi’s death had changed nothing between them. The woman still ordered Mingyu about as if she were a peasant farmer.

Madame Deng looked down her nose at her. “You have always been respectful, to my husband and our family. For that, I commend you.”

“As you have always been generous to me.”

The widow nodded, approving of Mingyu’s humility. “I must ask this question and you will answer me truthfully. Are you carrying my husband’s child?”

Mingyu was far from shy, but even she was taken aback by the force behind Madame Deng’s question.

“The truth,” the widow warned.

“No, Furen, I am not with child.”

The older woman’s gaze hovered over Mingyu’s slender waist. “My husband made no secret that he wanted a son.”

“Enlai is his son.”

At the mention of Deng Enlai’s name, the widow’s eyes flashed in a way that Mingyu could only describe as feral.

“What man doesn’t want more offspring as a testament to his own virility? My husband knew I was willing to bear him more children. I am not so old, you know. But he seemed to have other plans.”

Mingyu shifted on the mat as the weight of Madame Deng’s stare bore down on her.

“I was a young bride of sixteen when I went to Deng Zhi’s bed,” the widow continued, oblivious to her discomfort. “A week after our wedding night, I already knew that I was pregnant. Something had changed inside me. Then, only a week after that, I was already certain it was a boy. But I’ve heard this is unusual to know so soon. It occurs to me you may not yet be aware if you are carrying his child.”

“I assure you, I’m not pregnant, Furen. The last time I met with the general was well over a year ago.”

“You did not lie with him more recently?” Madame Deng felt no shame being so forward. She was speaking to an underling.

“Not for over a year. It would be impossible for me to be carrying his child.”

Whenever she went to Deng’s bed, Madame had always provided her with an herbal remedy used among the pleasure houses to prevent conception. Though there were certain circumstances when a courtesan wanted to bear her patron’s child, for the most part it meant ruin.

Madame Deng pressed her lips together thoughtfully. “If you had been with child, our family would have honored you. We would have seen to his upbringing and education.”

“You are too kind,” Mingyu said through her teeth. She didn’t need to ask what would have happened if the child was a girl.

“There is no kindness to it. Blood is blood. I would have recognized you and the child as one of our own.”

“But there is no child,” Mingyu repeated so there was no uncertainty. “Deng Zhi is fortunate to have a dutiful son like Enlai to perform his rites.”

Finally, the widow’s shoulders relaxed. “I had to be certain. Is it not awful how women are pushed to secure ourselves in this way, with our flesh and blood?”

“Yes, Furen.”

“I think of the stories of Empress Wu and Concubine Xiao, clawing at one another, sacrificing their own children for the attention of the Emperor.”

“That was another time,” Mingyu said demurely. “And we are not those women.”

Madame Deng nodded slowly from her throne. “Despite our differences in the past, I’ve always admired you.”

Mingyu swallowed her retort. “And I you.”

Her remark was at least partly true. Madame Deng was of noble and privileged birth, but she also knew what it meant to fight for her place in this world.

“I wish you good fortune and all my blessings, Lady Mingyu.” With that, Madame Deng rose to go. “I do wish that you had come to me when you found my husband. We could have handled matters with more discretion, for the sake of my family.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

KAIFENG EXITED THE gate of the yamen to find Mingyu waiting for him. Her blue robe inevitably drew his eye amid the brown and gray of the city street.

She had been in his mind constantly, ever since that damned kiss that he wasn’t supposed to think too much about. There was a bit of sorcery in how she appeared before him now.

As always, Mingyu let him come to her.

“My lady,” he greeted.

“Constable, can we speak in private?”

Dispensing with formalities, she fell into step alongside him. “I know this may sound implausible.”

“Nothing is implausible.”

“This is regarding Deng Furen.”

Kaifeng slowed his pace to match her shorter stride. “The general’s widow?”

“She came to see me today.” Mingyu fidgeted with her shawl, rearranging it over her shoulders. “I know this may sound ridiculous, but she mentioned something unusual. That woman has never been particularly charming or pleasant, especially to me, but the way she was acting today would have made anyone wonder.”

“Mingyu.” He had to say her name twice before she stopped babbling. “Tell me what Deng’s wife said to you.”

The command seemed to focus her. “She mentioned Concubine Xiao.”

His blank stare prompted her to continue.

“Xiao was one of Empress Wu’s rivals in the imperial court. The Empress cut off her feet and drowned her in a vat of wine.”

“Deng Furen threatened you?”

“Well, that story isn’t very subtle, is it?”

Mingyu pulled her shawl tighter around herself even though the day was warm. She seemed more shaken now than she had when she’d found the General’s body. Her speech was rapid, with no sense to it.

There was a food stand at the corner. Kaifeng started toward it, moving his hand to the small of Mingyu’s back to guide her. She jumped at the contact at first, but didn’t protest as he led her to a bench.

“Why did Deng’s wife wish to speak to you? Remember you came to me for help,” Kaifeng prompted when she hesitated. “I need to know everything.”

Mingyu took a breath. “She wanted to inquire about her husband. About whether I could be carrying his child.”

His gut wrenched at the thought, but he forced himself to continue calmly. “But you aren’t.”

“Of course not. At one time, he did want me to have his son, but I refused.”

“One must wonder why. Giving birth to Deng Zhi’s son would have secured your future.”

“Is that what you really believe? That such things can be so readily accomplished?” she asked, agitated.

One kiss certainly didn’t give Kaifeng any claim over Mingyu, but her past relationship with the general vexed him even though it was over. Even though the man was dead. It made no logical sense.

The middle-aged man who owned the food cart came up to them to see if they wanted anything. Kaifeng ordered one of whatever he served to get rid of the man.

“Isn’t it every courtesan’s desire to be free?” Kaifeng pressed.

“Becoming a concubine under the rule of a tyrant of a first wife isn’t freedom. Bearing a warlord’s son isn’t freedom. And there’s emotion involved, Constable. Something you do not seem to understand.”

“The situation appears simple enough for even me to grasp. Deng Furen was jealous of her husband’s mistress.”

The vendor came back with a bowl of dumplings in a clear syrup. “Sweet dumplings,” he explained when Kaifeng frowned at the bowl as if the dumplings themselves were intruding.

Kaifeng accepted them and handed the bowl over to Mingyu who seemed somewhat amused by the exchange. She lifted the spoon, her movements as refined and elegant at a roadside stand as they were in a banquet hall. He watched her as she sampled the dish, his chest warming from nothing more than her nearness.

Her presence had a soothing effect. Kaifeng was entrenched in the much harsher realities of life in the city whereas courtesans by profession created an illusion of a cultured world, filled with beauty and grace.

“The magistrate and I visited the Deng mansion just yesterday,” he confided. “Your account is of interest in light of that visit. Are you familiar with the members of his household?”

“I have some knowledge of them after all these years,” she replied carefully.

“What do you know of Deng Enlai?”

“The general spoke little of his son.”

Her expression clouded over as she looked down into the bowl, concentrating much more than needed on the next bite.

“I cannot help you if you keep hiding from me.”

“You must have visions of General Deng spilling all sorts of dark secrets on the pillow, but we rarely discussed personal things,” she said with a sigh.

“And a courtesan must always be discreet.”

Her eyes shuttered at his cynical retort and Kaifeng willed himself to relax. He was letting emotion cloud his judgment.

“Was there any hint of animosity between father and son?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t know of it.”

“A potential dispute over inheritance might serve as motive for Deng Enlai to kill his father. Or Deng Furen her husband.”

Mingyu shot him a cross look. “At least lower your voice when you say such unspeakable things. Deng as a general was both respected and feared. He was a warlord. He had many enemies, more than I could ever know of.”

“Which ones do you know of? Who in this city had a quarrel with the general?”

She thought about his question. “Lord Bai Huang. He asked me about Deng immediately before the general returned to Changan.”

The elder Lord Bai was a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Defense. His son, Bai Huang, was a noted do-nothing who had finally managed to secure a passing mark in the palace exams, most likely through bribery.

“You realize this would implicate your sister’s husband,” he pointed out.

Her eyes flashed at him. “I’m not implicating anyone. I’m merely letting you know that Lord Bai has had a longtime interest in Deng. He’s probably not alone. He probably also knows more than I do. I am, after all, just a woman.”

Kaifeng considered all he’d learned over the past few days. “There were rumors that Deng Zhi had been plotting against the Emperor. This would have made coming to the capital very dangerous.”

“Unless he wanted to respond to the accusations.” Mingyu didn’t appear surprised by the mention of treason.

“Why take the risk?”

“Even if I had the chance to speak with the general, I probably wouldn’t know the answer to that. A man goes to a courtesan to forget himself. He doesn’t want to dwell on his troubles.” Mingyu looked lost for a moment, but it passed quickly. “I need to go. There’s an important engagement tonight I must see to.”

Yet she remained seated. Kaifeng could tell her thoughts had shifted away from Deng Zhi. She was looking at him the way she had up on the pavilion. As if she was waiting for him to do something.

“Are we truly supposed to forget?” he asked quietly.

There was no need to mention what he spoke of.

“I haven’t forgotten.”

“Then it did happen.”

He reached for her, but went no farther than the edge of her sleeve. He let the silk slip along his fingertips before releasing it. Mingyu followed his every movement with her eyes.

He breathed deep before speaking. “Since that moment, I’ve been wondering—”

“What have you been wondering?” The sensual undercurrent in her voice made his heart pound.

“I’m not General Deng. Or Lord Bai. There is no advantage to seducing me.” Not that she was seducing him. They were just sitting beside one another, not even touching.

Mingyu smiled just a little. “No advantage whatsoever.”

“Then why?”

“The sun must have been shining in just the right way,” she said in that teasing manner of hers.

Mingyu was a notorious beauty, but he found her most compelling when she looked like she did now. As if all her armor had been removed.

Beneath the flirtation, there was something much more complicated. Something lonely and searching. Kaifeng could also see the stubbornness in her and knew she would never concede the advantage.

“Even if it were possible—” And it wasn’t, he insisted, even as his hands itched to touch her skin. “I don’t know how to begin courting your attention.”

She bestowed a sly glance upon him. “Perhaps that is why I’m beginning to enjoy your company, Wu Kaifeng.”

Mingyu enjoyed it for all of two more seconds. Then she handed him the bowl of unfinished dumplings. For just a moment, she was close enough that he could smell her perfume, sweet and sensual like evening jasmine.

“I do have to go,” she said, sounding regretful enough that his heart believed it.

He was embarking upon something hopeless here. And if he wasn’t careful it would drive him mad.

* * *

KAIFENG SET A task for himself that evening to keep himself focused. Mingyu was still in his blood as the sun started to set and it would be a long night if all he did was stare up at the ceiling and think of her.

From his interviews at the household, he learned that General Deng had arrived in Changan with an impressive entourage. Deng had made sure to march into the capital accompanied by a garrison of his soldiers. Not a force large enough to be an outright threat, but of a good enough size that people took notice. According to the servants, the soldiers had been housed in a market area along the western edge of the Imperial Way.

The garrison was easy to find. The men had been split between two inns on opposite sides of the street. Shouting from an adjacent tavern indicated that was where the men chose to drink when they weren’t sleeping. As Kaifeng neared the door, the shouting grew louder, accompanied by the sound of things crashing to the ground and breaking.

“Hit him! Hit him!”

The chant rose above the commotion. Kaifeng remained outside and peered in through the open doorway. A space had cleared at the center of the floor where two men grappled one another. They were surrounded by an appreciative crowd.

“Constable!” A decidedly unsoldierly man with a round belly called out from the far end of the tavern. His robe was of a pale tan color popular among merchants. “Help us out here.”

Kaifeng’s headdress and dark uniform clearly marked his position even from afar. In long strides, he closed in on the fight and grabbed the nearest man by the tunic, yanking him back.

“Aiya!” The young soldier attempted to swipe at Kaifeng before recognizing the uniform. “This is just a friendly match,” he protested.

His “friend” stood from the floor and wiped at the cut on his lip. “Right, Constable. There’s no trouble here.”

The crowd was decidedly disappointed.

Kaifeng nudged a broken stool with his boot. “How do you intend to repay the tavern keeper for the damages?”

“Never mind that.” The proprietor made a shooing motion with his hand. “Just get out. Out.”

The two former combatants left, complaining to one another about their mistreatment.

“For everyone remaining, set this room back in order,” Kaifeng instructed. To their credit, the soldiers obeyed.

Gratefully, the proprietor led him to a table. “Please sit, Constable.” He eyed the soldiers. “Stay awhile.”

The proprietor’s wife brought a jug of wine and poured out two cups. The man seemed relieved to sit and have someone to voice his complaints to.

“It’s been getting worse since General Deng’s death. One of his retainers is supposed to come today to settle the accounts. At least someone is still taking care of the costs, but they don’t seem to know what to do with these fellows here. Not that I can complain too much. It’s good money.”

“We have been unable to locate General Deng’s bodyguards,” Kaifeng began. “I hear there were five of them. They would have set themselves apart from the rest.”

“Big fellows, always together, right? Four or five of them. They would come in here to drink. Haven’t seen any of them for a while now.”

“Can you remember the last time they were here?”

The merchant thought for a moment, rubbing a hand over his chin. “Must have been just a few days before the general’s funeral. A few of those guards were here at that table in the corner. They were arguing about something and I thought another one of these brawls would break out. Fortunately their captain came to fetch them.”

“Their captain?”

“Only seen him once or twice here. Doesn’t want to appear too friendly with the lower ranks, you know how it is.”

Kaifeng thanked the proprietor and gathered a few more details about the regiment captain before leaving the tavern to seek him out. He was supposedly staying on the top floor of the more luxurious of the two inns occupied by Deng’s squadron.

From the street outside, it was certainly a challenge to identify which of the two buildings would be considered luxurious, or if either of them qualified. Kaifeng had prepared to try the one on the right side of the street when he spied a familiar figure ducking into the one on the left. He followed.

Yuan Lo, Deng’s house steward, was arguing with the innkeeper when Kaifeng stepped through the doorway.

“Are you trying to swindle me? Same price as last week, not one zhu more.” Yuan didn’t wait for the innkeeper’s agreement before pulling out a wad of paper from the front of his robe. He peeled off several sheets of flying money notes before tucking the rest back into his robe.

His business apparently done, he turned and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Kaifeng there. Yuan struggled to regain his composure. “Constable.”

“You’re a busy man, Mister Yuan. With your master’s death, there must be many affairs left to be put in order.”

“Yes, indeed. Pardon me.”

He bowed hastily and ducked past Kaifeng, continuing out into the street with his head down. Kaifeng followed behind him like a silent shadow. The old servant glanced over his shoulder nervously, but said nothing before entering the second inn. The transaction there was much the same. He paid the innkeeper, completing the transaction with impressive efficiency. Once outside, Yuan Lo headed for the tavern.

“There was some damage there,” Kaifeng warned, still hovering two steps behind the man. “The soldiers appear to be getting restless.”

Yuan Lo halted and swore beneath his breath. “Is there something you require of me, Constable?”

“I thought I would wait until you were done with the task at hand.”

“No, please.” He pulled out a handkerchief and mopped at his forehead. “Anything you need.”

Despite the short walk between the two inns, Yuan Lo was now drenched in sweat. The autumn evening was mild in temperature and though the steward moved with a brisk, purposeful pace, it wasn’t enough to account for it. Guilt made one perspire.

On the other hand, so did nervousness. Between Kaifeng’s fearsome appearance and his constable’s uniform, he always made people uneasy.

“We did not get a chance to speak during the magistrate’s visit,” Kaifeng began.

“My apologies, Constable. I had duties to attend to.”

“I meant to ask about General Deng’s bodyguards. Did he summon them that morning?”

The steward swallowed. “I...I don’t believe he did. I can’t be certain.”

“I’ve heard that he always had them near.”

“It was very early in the morning. Perhaps he thought it unnecessary.” Yuan swiped the handkerchief over his face again. “My master didn’t always explain himself to me.”

Kaifeng looked down the lane. The regiment occupied the entire section. There were soldiers staying at the inns, frequenting the tavern, even loitering about the tea stands and shops.

“In a way, all of these men are Deng’s bodyguards.”

“There is always the threat of brigands while traveling,” Yuan explained. “The general had his family to protect.”

Kaifeng nodded absently as he absorbed the information. “How many soldiers would you say accompanied Deng and his family?”

“Oh, I couldn’t say for certain.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Kaifeng’s swift reply took the steward aback.

“You hold the purse, Mister Yuan,” Kaifeng continued in what he thought was a gentler tone. “I would expect you to know of every last man as well as what he eats for dinner.”

“Of course, Constable.” His hands twisted into the handkerchief. “What I meant to say was it’s written in my books. Every last man, as you said. Can’t trust this old head to remember everything anymore.”

“You don’t have to remember the exact number. Just tell me if I’m close to the mark.” Kaifeng glanced over the two inns. “A hundred men?”

“More or less,” the steward confirmed. The handkerchief swiped over his forehead once more.

A regiment of a hundred armed men. Such a force made for a decent skirmish. Certainly Deng feared more than an ambush from some unruly bandits. The general was prepared for a large-scale attack, yet all it took was one moment of carelessness for his enemies to slip past his defenses.

It didn’t make sense that Deng wouldn’t call for his bodyguards. Perhaps he had become too confident, believing no one would attack him in what had once been his domain and while he was under the hospitality of the Emperor. Either that or the steward was mistaken. Or he was lying.

“Thank you, Mister Yuan. You have been very helpful.”

Yuan bowed to him and hurried away to disappear into the tavern.

Kaifeng continued his search for the captain. He was easy to locate. He had been given the largest room at the inn on the left and appeared to be concluding a meeting with advisers as Kaifeng approached.

“My apologies, Constable. I was told there was another disturbance at the tavern.”

The man was Kaifeng’s senior by ten years or so and seemed an entirely different soldier from the rabble down at the tavern. The captain had an air of experience about him. The deep lines around his mouth and eyes indicated he made a habit of looking stern.

“The men are without direction and waiting for orders. We’re to join the city garrison shortly and will trouble you no further.”

“I am interested in five men in particular.” Kaifeng provided the names that he had been given. “One of the bodyguards could not be found after the general’s murder.”

“These men are no longer with this regiment.”

“Then if you could tell me where to find them.”

“They are no longer in Changan.”

Kaifeng had his own habit of looking stern. “Considering they are under investigation, that would be a violation. Who gave the command?”

“No one did. They took this task upon themselves when they learned that one of their own had turned traitor. There are certain matters better handled within the family, so to speak.” The captain was unapologetic. His gaze shifted to Kaifeng’s sword. “You know the code between fighting men. The general’s death must be avenged.”

The code likely meant the bodyguards would exact revenge themselves. The traitor would be effectively silenced, making it impossible to investigate the possible conspiracy. What was his purpose for turning on his master? Who had bought his loyalty?

Deng’s enemies had deliberately used Mingyu’s assignation with the general as a moment to strike. The same woman who was now tempting him beyond all reason.

Wu Kaifeng left the lane without the answers he had come for. The answers he did find, he did not like at all.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“SEEING YOU AGAIN is like catching the first bloom of the peonies in Changan.”

Inspector Xi Lun stared at her with the unblinking eyes of a mantis while he spoke.

Mingyu tilted her head coquettishly. “My lord, you aren’t supposed to speak while I’m preparing the tea.”

“I loathe to waste a single moment with you.”

“Is silence necessarily a waste?”

“It is when I’ve been longing to hear your voice.”

His words were undeniably flattering, yet they lacked any hint of warmth.

Keeping her eyes on the tray before her, Mingyu finished pouring hot water over the tea leaves and placed a lid over each cup. The back of her neck heated under the censor’s scrutiny. Outwardly, her expression remained tranquil, as the Classic of Tea prescribed.

“You should know that it is incorrect to address me as ‘lord.’ I come from a humble upbringing, much as yourself.”

Her first thought was to ask how he knew anything of her upbringing, but she didn’t want to engage him in such a personal topic.

“The inspector’s accomplishments have made him equal to any man, regardless of his birth,” she replied.

“I am fortunate the Emperor feels the same.”

His upbringing was apparently the only thing Xi was humble about.

“I have brought a gift for you, in honor of this night.” He set a lacquered case inlaid with mother of pearl onto the table.

She took the time to admire the orchid design. “The box itself is a treasure.”

“Open it,” he commanded, watching for her reaction so closely it made her skin crawl.

Inside the lacquer case was a bracelet of milky white jade, carved into a perfect circle. It looked like a band of ice without a single flaw.

“I searched for the brightest, purest jade. It was only fitting, given your name. Mingyu, meaning ‘bright jade.’”

“Thank you. This is very beautiful.”

“Will you not put it on? I have been waiting impatiently to see it on you.”

“Of course, Inspector.”

He was noticeably displeased by her lack of enthusiasm, but Mingyu knew better than to appear too easily impressed. Picking up the bracelet, she slipped it over her hand, pausing only a moment to work the circle over her knuckles and settle it around her wrist. Most jade she had seen had some hint of green in it. White jade was highly prized, especially stone that was free of any flaw or blemish. He had invested thought and money into this gift. There was pride behind it.

Mingyu lifted her hand so he could see the jade and made a show of turning it this way and that as she admired it.

“And all I have to give in return is tea,” she teased.

“Tea and your precious company.” He took a sip while keeping his eyes on her.

Xi was pleasing enough to the eye. His face was square and his jaw broad. To match the strong features of his face, his clothing was impeccable and his manners cultured. He was young compared to many highly ranked officials and he was free with his wealth. That she knew from the bracelet resting coolly against her wrist.

Recalling a few threads from their last meeting, she tried to weave them into a conversation. “Have you reconnected with old friends since your transfer to the capital?”

“I have few friends from my time here as imperial candidate, but that is actually fortunate. It allows me to focus on my duties in the Palace Bureau without distraction.”

“Mmm.” She murmured a sound of mild interest.

“One would think that in Changan, before the very gates of the imperial palace, the officials would be the most honest and diligent in the empire. Not so.”

“Not so?” Conversation with the inspector was quite easy. He preferred to do all the talking himself.

“The Palace Bureau has to keep a careful eye over the bureaucracy of the capital. Everyone is connected and corruption is rampant, from high to low. Even a place such as the county magistrate’s office has to be scrutinized.”

“Even men with the most honest of intentions might lose their way given the right temptation,” Mingyu concurred, lifting her tea. It was a bland statement. Thoughtful enough and not likely to offend.

“On the subject of the magistrate’s office, it seems Constable Wu Kaifeng has given you trouble a few times.”

She nearly choked on her tea. “Wu Kaifeng?”

Merely speaking his name aloud made her stomach flutter.

“You don’t need to worry about him, Lady Mingyu.”

Mingyu wanted to protest that she didn’t need protection from Kaifeng, but instinct told her Xi Lun would not appreciate being contradicted.

From the very first moment she’d seen the inspector, something about Xi Lun unnerved her. Even more so than her first meeting with Wu Kaifeng. Wu was impossible not to notice with his imposing height and the sharpness of his features. In addition to his appearance, she had also been stricken by Wu’s perceptiveness. His black eyes saw everything. He saw her in a way that others didn’t.

Where Wu Kaifeng was forthright with his intentions, Xi Lun was more elusive.

“The constable is merely a servant,” she said dismissively. “Let’s not waste our time speaking of insignificant things.”

The rest of the evening passed by without note while Mingyu made an effort not to encourage the inspector. They finished their tea and then she lured him into a game of weiqi to pass the time. Pondering where to place the white-and-black stones on the board saved her from having to engage in conversation, save for the occasional compliment when he made a clever move.

“You’ve defeated me, Inspector,” she declared after they counted up the pieces.

“Only by ten stones.”

She could see the glow of triumph in his eyes as Xi let the white pieces drop back into the bamboo cup, one after the other. The hour was late enough that she could politely disengage and send him off. Mingyu intended to do exactly that as she returned the game board to the cabinet. As she shut the door, his strong arms closed around her.

Xi Lun wasn’t rough, but the embrace became insistent when she tried to slip away. Before she could push the inspector away, his mouth came crushing down on her.

Mingyu gasped, pulse pounding and her muscles tense as she tried to escape. Xi Lun gripped the back of her neck to hold her still while he took his kiss.

Madame Sun and the other girls were downstairs. She could cry for help, but Xi Lun was influential enough that with merely a word from him, they would all find themselves apologizing on their knees for speaking ill of him. The easiest thing to do was accept, but she wasn’t the same girl who had been sent passively to General Deng’s bed the first time.

Bracing her hands against his shoulders, Mingyu gave him a hard shove. It wasn’t enough to break his hold on her, but at least it broke the kiss. “Did you think your gift was enough to purchase me, Inspector?”

At first Xi Lun stared at her, startled. Then his expression hardened and Mingyu held her breath. Her heart pounded, but she forced herself to remain composed.

“That was certainly not my intention.” His jaw remained rigid and she sensed anger pulsing within him.

A courtesan could scold, tease, argue. She could even use tears if the need arose. Her arsenal was filled with every woman’s weapon that existed, but the one thing she could not do was cause a man to lose face. Certainly not a man who was powerful enough to destroy her.

“I must apologize, then, Inspector Xi. How could I be so mistaken?”

Mingyu let her words express embarrassment while her tone maintained a cool detachment. The inspector was too intelligent to be fooled by a sudden display of subservience.

“It is I who should apologize,” he replied stiffly. “I have thought of this moment for so long that I forget we are only newly acquainted.”

“Mere strangers,” she emphasized.

“I would hope a little less now, after tonight.”

After he’d grabbed her and forced his intentions on her? Mingyu forced a smile, but she could feel it was thin, very thin on her lips. Sometimes she didn’t care to pretend.

Rather than releasing her, Xi Lun took hold of her hand. He ran his thumb along her wrist, touching the bracelet he’d bestowed upon her.

“I should have known you wouldn’t be like any other woman. You require patience. Courtship.”

“Farewell, Inspector.” She slipped her hand from his grasp as well as the rest of her, not caring if the movement wasn’t particularly graceful.

“Until we meet again, Mingyu.”

Xi Lun took his leave with a bow. The moment he was gone, Mingyu tugged the bracelet from her wrist and flung the jade into the pillows. His final touch remained etched onto her skin, exacting and overly familiar, as if he already owned her. If that was what Xi Lun truly wanted, there was nothing she could do about it.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

THE EARTHY SMELL of the herbal shop surrounded Mingyu with the combined scents of dried ginseng and ginger, mushrooms and longan berries. A medicine cabinet spanned the entire back wall, lining it with row upon row of tiny drawers fashioned of dark rosewood.

The apothecary was a gaunt man with a slight hunch to his shoulders. He approached the counter and Mingyu handed him two slips of paper which he squinted over before glancing up at her.

“Are you trying to have a child or prevent one, Miss? These two remedies contradict one another, one hot, one cold.”

“These are for two different women,” she replied evenly. The memory of Xi Lun’s unwanted embrace clung to her.

“Be careful to keep them separate.”

He laid out a square of paper onto the counter and began rifling through drawers, not pausing to read the labels on them. Mingyu watched as he scooped out a mixture of herbs, powders, roots. Then he laid out another square and continued the process with a new combination of drawers. There must be a thousand secret remedies contained in those compartments, she thought.

“Boil each for at least half an hour. More like soup than like tea,” the apothecary instructed as he folded in the edges of each paper and tied it off. He marked the fertility concoction with a character. “Drink the entire bowl. Once a day. Every day.”

“How long before your medicine takes effect?”

The apothecary made a clucking noise of disapproval. “Patience, young miss. This remedy works bit by bit, a little every day to restore internal balance.”

Mingyu paid for the herbal mixtures and placed both packets into her bag before going out to the street to hail a carriage. It had been a month since she’d made the trip to see her sister. The last time was before General Deng’s death and it felt as if a lifetime had passed since then.

When she reached the front gate of the Bai family mansion, Mingyu dismissed the carriage. A maidservant greeted her and led her to the inner quarters. Yue-ying had served as Mingyu’s attendant at the Lotus Palace until she had caught Lord Bai Huang’s eye. Now her younger sister had servants of her own.

As the maidservant led her through passageways and courtyards, it was evident how Yue-ying had traded freedom for security. The inner quarters were located deep within the house, in the most private area. A proper nobleman’s wife didn’t spend time out in public, visiting teahouses and wine shops.

After her wedding, Yue-ying never returned to the Lotus Palace. Not even for a visit. She wasn’t necessarily forbidden, but such a thing simply wasn’t done. It was much easier for Mingyu to negotiate with Madame Sun for time to come here, though she only managed to do so once a month.

They entered a well-tended garden. A young woman in a dark robe sat reading beneath a pavilion. Wei-wei was Huang’s younger sister, the Bai family’s only daughter and she always managed to be out in the garden, glancing over a scroll or book whenever Mingyu arrived. Either Wei-wei planned it that way or she truly did read all the time.

“Elder Sister, how good to see you!” Wei-wei rose and went to her, book forgotten. “I wrote a poem anticipating your visit.”

Wei-wei held out a scroll, her face glowing with pride. It was the sort of verse a young scholar might compose. Indeed with the dark color of her clothing and her hair pinned back with a wooden pin, Wei-wei dressed more like a scholar than a fashionable young lady.

Despite the austerity of her robe, her prettiness was undeniable. Wei-wei had her elder brother’s high cheekbones and finely shaped mouth. A peach blossom beauty, as the poets liked to call it.

She was supposedly the most studious of the Bai siblings. According to Yue-ying, Wei-wei had taken over instruction for her younger brother and also had a hand in pushing her elder brother, Huang, to pass the imperial exams.

“I copied down several poems recited at the Lotus Palace,” Mingyu offered in kind. “One is from a noted poet and member of the Hanlin Academy.”

They exchanged scrolls and Wei-wei held hers to her breast dramatically. “I will read every word. Please sit, Elder Sister. I’ll bring Yue-ying.”

Mingyu seated herself at the stone table beneath the pavilion while Wei-wei instructed the maidservant to bring tea. She then disappeared into the private chambers leaving her book lying open on the table. Mingyu glanced over the pages. It was a popular story of a love that was not meant to be. Intriguingly, the heroine of the tale disguised herself as a man in order to study for the imperial exams.

Yue-ying arrived before Mingyu had time to turn the page.

“I’ll leave the two sisters to their visit,” Wei-wei said breezily, collecting her book and retreating into the house.

Yue-ying looked radiant. Her eyes were bright and her skin appeared luminous, almost glowing. Mingyu grabbed hold of her hand excitedly. “Is there happy news?”

Her younger sister made a face. “That’s all anyone wants to know these days. Bai Furen is having me eat quail eggs and pomegranates.”

Yue-ying’s features were distinguished by a red birthmark that curved over her left cheek, framing her face. That unfortunate fate had sent the two of them on different paths, with Yue-ying being relegated to the low-end brothels and Mingyu to the elite Lotus Palace. Yet they’d managed to find each other despite being separated.

“So you have no news?” Mingyu persisted.

Yue-ying gave her a coy smile. “Well, Huang has received an official appointment.”

Mingyu sighed.

“No, there’s no news yet, Sister. But it’s only been a few months.”

“Six months,” Mingyu pointed out.

Truly, six months wasn’t so long to wait for a child, but Mingyu worried for her sister. Yue-ying had married so high above her station. Bearing the Bai family a child, a son, was critical for securing her position as Bai Huang’s wife.

“I brought more medicine for you,” Mingyu continued, producing the packet of herbs from her bag. “Remember to take this twice a day to warm your blood and strengthen your womb. I also heard from a midwife that deer antler ground into a powder is very potent for men. Perhaps I can find some for our next visit.”

Yue-ying stifled a laugh. “You want Huang to drink deer antlers?”

Mingyu regarded her sister. Her hair was pulled up into a chignon in the style of married women, yet she appeared somehow younger. It was her smile. Yue-ying was smiling openly now. Everything about her had changed—the set of her shoulders, the way her eyes danced when she spoke.

Her sister was in love. Yue-ying was happy.

And instead of being happy for her, Mingyu was sounding like one of those bitter old aunties, harping about conception and seeing ill-fortune everywhere.

“What position did Bai Huang receive?” Mingyu asked, easing herself away from talk of childbearing and folk remedies.

“Assistant collator of the left office of the imperial archives.” Yue-ying was out of breath after saying it.

Mingyu frowned while Yue-ying looked on with a tranquil expression.

“Well, that is a very important-sounding position,” Mingyu began, searching for something congratulatory to say.

Yue-ying nodded. “Yes. It’s a very long title.”

Now it was Mingyu’s turn to keep from laughing. “It’s an honorable duty to organize official records and notices, one that I’m certain will be a first step to greater things.”

“You know I have no care for titles,” Yue-ying assured. “But Huang had hoped for a more challenging assignment.”

“One would think the flower prince of the Pingkang li would appreciate any position that wasn’t too taxing.”

Mingyu was only teasing. Lord Bai had proven himself over the past year not only to be more capable, but also more ambitious than everyone had assumed. Given that Bai Huang had passed the palace exams and that his father was a high-ranking official in the imperial bureaucracy, to be given a position as a mere collator was almost an insult. Perhaps he wasn’t able to escape his playboy past.

“What about you?” Yue-ying asked. “I just learned the news of General Deng. I’m so sorry.”

Yue-ying reached for her and Mingyu fought to maintain her composure. The last thing she wanted was for her sister to worry about her.

“You know I felt no love for him,” Mingyu said.

“But he was your protector. And such a violent death! I heard that you were the first to find him after...that you saw him without his—”

“How did you hear any of this?” Her sister was sheltered away in the Bai mansion and should have been spared such details. “Who has been spreading gossip?”

“Not gossip, exactly.” Yue-ying bit down on her lip as she looked toward the main part of the house.

Somehow she immediately knew who was the source of her sister’s discomfort. “Wu Kaifeng.”

“I apologize. I know you don’t care for him.”

“He’s here now?”

Her sister nodded. “Constable Wu came unannounced just a little before you arrived. He wished to speak to Huang.”

Mingyu shouldn’t have been surprised. She had mentioned Bai Huang to the constable and Wu always acted swiftly.

“Don’t let him upset you,” Yue-ying assured. “He wouldn’t dare to say or do anything to you here.”

“He doesn’t upset me.”

How could Mingyu explain that she and Wu Kaifeng had started to confide in one another? Or explain the attraction growing between them? Or the kiss? The kiss that still stole her breath away.

“Constable Wu is much more than one would expect,” Mingyu said and left it at that.

Yue-ying eyed her skeptically, but didn’t press any further. They lingered over tea and spoke of lesser things: Yue-ying was learning how to embroider and Wei-wei was tutoring her on her writing skills. By all accounts, the Bai family was treating her well. Mingyu felt some of the weight lifting from her shoulders.

Bai Huang truly cared for her sister. He had fought for her to become his wife and he’d continue fighting for her.

“I should go now,” Mingyu said with some regret long after the tea had gone cold.

“I won’t see you again for another month,” Yue-ying remarked.

Though it was unspoken, neither Madame Sun nor Bai Furen approved of her spending too much time with her sister. They lived in different worlds now, as it should be.

“Hopefully there will be good news in a month. Tell your husband to work a little harder,” Mingyu said slyly.

Yue-ying rolled her eyes.

They said their farewells in the garden, Mingyu declining Yue-ying’s offer to see her to the gate. By the time she stepped out onto the street, her heart was pounding with anticipation. A tall, dark figure appeared, leading a horse from the stables. He stopped when he saw her.

“Constable Wu,” she greeted.

“Lady Mingyu.”

“How strange it is that we should meet again so unexpectedly,” she said with mock surprise. “There must be fate between us.”

He didn’t smile, but there was a glint in his eye that she might have missed if she hadn’t become accustomed to the subtle changes in his expressions.

“Are you headed back to our ward?” she asked.

“I am.”

“Then perhaps I should tell the servants not to fetch the carriage,” she suggested, her voice as smooth as silk. “If you’ll permit me to ride with you, it will save them the trouble of the long journey.”

Idly, he raised his hand to lay his palm against the horse’s neck as he regarded her. His fingers were long, his touch confident. For a moment, she feared he might refuse, but the corner of his mouth lifted crookedly. Not quite a smile, but enough.

“I would be happy to be of assistance.”

Mingyu relayed the change of plans to an attendant before returning to Wu. His black eyes followed her each step of the way, making her heart beat faster.

Wu Kaifeng was a difficult man to read. People tended to cower before his cold and forbidding demeanor, but in his case image revealed little about the man inside. She was learning more about him bit by bit and each new meeting was a surprise.

He climbed onto the saddle first before reaching down to help her up behind him. She leaned in close, her arms circling him for balance. Wu Kaifeng was long and lean, his waist narrow. Every part of him was made of taut, wiry muscle. She laid her cheek against his back and listened to the rhythm of his breath from deep within his chest, strong and steady.

“How was your important meeting the other night?” he asked once they were on the road.

Mingyu considered telling him about Xi Lun, but what purpose would it serve?

“It was nothing remarkable,” she said, laying her head back down.

For a long time, Mingyu did nothing and said nothing. With Wu Kaifeng, she didn’t have to be clever or flattering. Mingyu didn’t have to pretend to be anything at all. She just closed her eyes and let the vast city flow by.

When she opened her eyes again, they were nearly back to the walled gate of their ward. The roads between each section were wide and unpaved. Though they passed by the occasional wagon or cart, the main avenues between the wards seemed deserted compared to the packed streets inside the walls.

She had held on to him for nearly an hour without a word between them. Mingyu flattened her hands over his abdomen and felt the ripple of tension that traveled throughout his body. She wasn’t certain why she did it. Maybe she just wanted to know how he felt.

“Mingyu?” The question resonated from deep within his chest.

“Did you find what you were looking for from Lord Bai Huang?” she deflected.

“Only that he claims to have no personal quarrel with General Deng. And that there is no official inquiry into Deng’s loyalty that he knows of.”

“He’s lying.” She rested her head back against the hollow between his shoulder blades. She liked how his voice sounded from there, right beneath her ear and completely surrounding her. “Bai Huang is a lot craftier than everyone believes,” she told him.

“I know.”

“But I don’t think he had anything to do with the general’s death.”

“I can’t discount anyone at this time.”

The journey through the city was coming quickly to an end. At the gate, Wu Kaifeng identified himself as the head constable and they received only a cursory inspection before being waved in. Several lanes away from the Pingkang li, Wu stopped the horse and dismounted before helping her down onto the street.

She didn’t have to ask why they had stopped. He was sparing her the indignity of being seen with him. Mingyu should have taken her leave then and there, but she didn’t want to go. Not just yet. The two of them stood facing one another, Wu with reins in hand.

He didn’t seem as intimidating or frightful as she had once thought. Perhaps his face had just become familiar. Perhaps she’d never seen him look at anyone the way he was looking at her—the way coals glowed hot beneath a dark layer of ash.

“You mentioned that your foster father was a physician,” she began.

“Yes.”

“If I could ask you for some advice.” She took a deep breath. Yue-ying’s predicament continued to weigh on her. “Did your father ever treat women?”

“Men, women and children.”

“Then you might know if six months is a long time for a newly married woman to try to conceive without success.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. “I would think a woman would have better knowledge of such things.”

“In the pleasure houses and brothels, we are given a special herbal soup to prevent conception.” She spoke rapidly, feeling her cheeks heating under Wu’s gaze. “Sometimes I wonder if constant use of this remedy doesn’t poison our bodies. So few of us ever have children.”

Mingyu’s hand strayed to her own midsection. Hastily, she let her arm drop. The packet of herbs to prevent pregnancy lay like a stone at the bottom of her sack. Yue-ying had been raised in a brothel for almost twelve years before Mingyu had rescued her. Over her lifetime, Yue-ying must have taken so much more of this drug than she had.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” she confessed. “Maybe it’s because you’ve always been honest to me. Cuttingly honest, if need be.”

Loneliness took hold of her, hollowing out her insides. She missed her sister, but Yue-ying was married now. She was finally free to find her happiness, while Mingyu was still trapped in the Pingkang li.

“I am no physician, but my father saw many families,” Wu began. “For those who had problems conceiving, he would often prescribe a combination of warming foods as well as acupuncture. But Miss Yue-ying is young. Even if she frequently drank the herbs you described, that was long ago. The body seeks balance. It strives to heal on its own, with time.”

If Mingyu could only trust in that; that all wounds truly did heal with time. “Thank you, Constable. And thank you for escorting me home.”

She turned to go, but Wu stopped her. “Lady Mingyu.”

“Yes?” She faced him once more. Her response was too eager, lacking any sophistication or finesse.

“I don’t want to admit this, but I find myself confounded by this case. Something does not fit.” He shook his head. “I can’t figure out what it is. I had hoped to resolve this crime quickly, for your sake.”

“I’m grateful for your diligence,” Mingyu replied, her heart sinking. They had to go their separate ways now, but did it always have to end this way? With talk of death and murder?

“Say something to me that isn’t about the investigation,” she implored.

She could see the thoughts flickering in his eyes as he searched for something suitable. It was endearing, if anything about Wu Kaifeng could ever be considered endearing.

“I knew ahead of time,” he began reluctantly. “That this was the day you usually go to see your sister.”

Mingyu’s grin spread so wide she had to place a hand over her mouth to hide it. Warmth bloomed in her chest, spreading out to every part of her until even her fingertips tingled.

“Farewell, Constable,” she said, still smiling.

Wu breathed deep, as if to regain himself. “Farewell, Mingyu.”

This was utterly impossible. Their kiss was one sweet and stolen moment she would never have again. They couldn’t even walk beside one another down the street without raising a scandal. Yet the smile remained on her lips as she headed toward the Three Lanes of the Pingkang li. Her step was as light as the leaves that blew across the street, caught in a breeze.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

SHORT OF THE changing of the seasons and the rise of the moon, nothing could ever be certain. Not one’s fortunes from day to day and not one’s next breath. And the heart of a woman was even less known. Even more unpredictable.

Kaifeng added Deng Furen’s name to his list of suspects. And then, after a pause, he added Mingyu’s name, as well. He had to.

She had found the body. She was Deng’s lover and the general was waiting to see her when he was killed. If Kaifeng omitted her name from the list, the absence would be conspicuous.

Setting down his writing brush, Kaifeng read the names once more. He loathed to specify names when so little was certain, but Magistrate Li had insisted on a list. Once the ink was dry, he folded the paper neatly to conceal its contents before rising to deliver the report personally. Li Yen was at his desk, head bent as his brush moved fluidly over an open scroll. Kaifeng stood and waited for him to finish.

Magistrate Li glanced up from his writing and jumped, startled. “Make some sound to get my attention when you enter a room.”

Kaifeng slid the folded note across the writing desk. “A list of suspects, Magistrate, as you requested.”

The list only worsened the magistrate’s foul mood. He unfolded it and read the first of the names.

“Deng’s wife?” Li asked incredulously. “Lady Mingyu? Both of those women benefited from General Deng’s protection while he was alive. They had the most to lose with his death.”

“If we can argue who is or isn’t guilty right here in the magistrate’s study, then there would be no need to gather evidence at all,” Kaifeng remarked dryly.

Li Yen shot him the evil eye before scanning the rest of the list. “Who are these people?”

“Deng’s son. His bodyguards. The household servants. Anyone serving directly under the general in his army—”

The magistrate raised his hand to stop him. “It’s Inspector Xi who demands to see what progress we’re making,” he explained wearily. He continued perusing the list. “You have Bai Zheng-jian and his son Bai Huang on here?”

“They have shown interest in Deng Zhi in the past. Additionally, the elder Lord Bai is a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Defense and has been trained in the sword. I wouldn’t be surprised if his son had the same knowledge.”

“On my grave, am I listed here, as well?”

Li thought twice after making his jest and quickly checked the list. His shoulders sank back with relief. “So of these names, who do you truly suspect might be guilty?”

Kaifeng glanced at Mingyu’s name near to the top and a fist closed around his chest, but he still managed to deliver his reply without wavering.

“All of them.”

* * *

THE GATES IN the northwestern part of the city led directly into a forest known as the Forbidden Park, forbidden because only the Emperor’s guests were allowed onto the polo fields and hunting grounds located there. Wu Kaifeng certainly hadn’t received special permission from the Emperor to mingle with statesmen and nobility that day. Magistrate Li had insisted he attend as a bodyguard.

Immediately after joining the gathering, he and Li parted ways, with him falling into the wooded area to disappear in the shade.

“Listen and observe, but do not question anyone,” Li had instructed. “Leave that to me.”

Because it wouldn’t do to have a servant questioning the elite of society. Certainly not in such a public venue.

Kaifeng meant to get a survey of the grounds before the bulk of the guests arrived, but he was stopped by the sound of music floating over from the main pavilion. Each note rang with purpose; some light and gentle, others heavy, one upon the other.

He was no artist and had no special affinity toward music, but something about the powerful melody made him wonder about whose touch was on the strings. As Kaifeng ventured to the edge of the woods, he caught a glimpse of jade silk and gold brocade. But it was her posture and bearing that told him who it was. Lady Mingyu. Of course, it was Mingyu. She had a way of tilting her head, of lifting her shoulders just so as she set her hands over the instrument.

No one made a sound. Mingyu sat poised behind the qin as if it were a part of her, its lines as graceful and elegant as her own. An exquisite woman playing a haunting song. There was no higher form of beauty among the scholar-elite.

Kaifeng turned away from Mingyu and her army of admirers. Let the noblemen fawn idly over the beautiful courtesan. He had come here with another purpose. As the song slowed to its last note, he retreated into the thicket.

The other side of the trees had been cleared away for the archery park. The row of wooden targets, painted with a pattern of diamond marks, stood empty while the guests enjoyed music in the pavilion. Later there would be a hunt in the forests just beyond the park.

“I thought that was you, Constable.”

A vision in pale green floated toward him. Mingyu appeared illuminated with her silk robe shimmering around her.

“No greeting before disappearing into the shadows?” she complained. Her eyes were bright, highlighting the smile on her lips. People rarely smiled when they sought him out.

“I’m not supposed to be seen.” He looked her over once more. “Unlike you.”

She arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him. “When did you become such a flower heart?”

“Won’t the honored guests wonder why Lady Mingyu is suddenly absent?”

“The other girls deserve a chance to play.”

Even in her absence, there was a constant flow of music from the pavilion. The new song wasn’t nearly as haunting or as captivating as the one that Mingyu had performed. What he was listening to was perhaps pretty to the ear, but it was only sound.

He could have complimented her musical ability. She might have been pleased to hear it. “You are here to pry information from me,” he said instead.

“Coax,” she corrected sweetly.

Apparently his blunt manner no longer upset her.

A ball of warmth formed in his chest even though she hadn’t said anything in particular, hadn’t done anything other than make him feel like his presence was welcome. Mingyu knew how to speak to a man, to any man, and put him at ease. She also wasn’t relegated to skulking in the shadows. She would be useful to have on their side today.

Useful. That was why he needed to speak with her, why he continued to seek her out. Not this skip in his pulse.

Kaifeng looked to the pavilion where the guests were gathered. “There is likely a murderer here today.”

“What makes you so certain?”

“Stories of bandits and outlaws aside, men are usually killed by people who know them. The guests assembled here are General Deng’s peers.”

Mingyu took his side and the skip in his pulse became a throb. The pressure in his chest sharpened to an ache that would not subside.

“These are some of the most powerful men in the Emperor’s service,” she told him. “Members of the Ministry of Defense. Military governors. The protectors of the empire.”

“The Emperor’s war makers.”

Her lips pressed tight. “The Emperor fears them.”

She must have spent so many days discussing politics with General Deng over the years. So many days and how many nights? His fists clenched tight at the images that forced themselves upon him. Mingyu’s head on the pillow beside the general’s. Small snatches of private conversation. Careless remarks that in and of themselves meant nothing, but when added together created an accurate picture of the inner circles of power.

Beneath the pavilion, the men were drinking wine, their expressions full of laughter and merriment. Yet they were rivals for military power within the empire.

“Even though the Emperor feared them, he brought them together here,” Kaifeng remarked. “General Deng, as well. Why?”

“Especially when the empire is not even at war,” Mingyu said with the typical naïveté of one sheltered in the capital.

“We’re always at war, my lady.”

There was a pause as she absorbed the information. “Everything is a battle with you.”

If she was ready to paint a picture of him, he could do the same. “And you? You make yourself into a blank canvas and let your admirers fill it in as required.”

“A mirror,” she corrected, unperturbed. “A courtesan is a mirror. The bureaucrats value their own learning, so I give them poetry and music. The generals value competition and strategy, so I confirm the brilliance of their plans.”

“And myself?”

His stomach tightened as he awaited the answer. The question should have never been asked.

Her tranquil, placid expression faded into a thoughtful one. “You value justice, Constable. Unfortunately, that is the one thing I cannot speak to. I know nothing of it.”

With a nod, she started to float away as carelessly as she’d come, but Kaifeng caught her before she could escape. Her fingers tensed in his grasp. Rather than pull away, they curled tentatively over his.

“I had never heard you play before,” he began.

She tilted her head to await his next words and he had no choice but to finish his thought, as disjointed as it was. Mingyu had that effect on him, much like strong wine.

He knew his hands were rough. He knew his height was awkward, his speech unrefined while she was soft, elegant and exquisite. He also knew the last time he’d held on to her hand like this, Mingyu had been a prisoner and he her interrogator. In the face of her beauty, he’d seen his own cold brutality. It had been unavoidable.

“There was a time I would have broken a suspect’s hand without flinching, all in the pursuit of truth. I’ve hurt you in the past, Lady Mingyu.”

Mingyu’s eyes remained fixed upon him. They were wide and dark, reflecting everything in their depths. No wonder men drowned there. Her pulse quickened beneath the pale skin of her throat.

He swallowed. “I had never heard you play before. Forgive me now, if you can. It would have been a waste to damage such skill.”

It was the poorest of apologies. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Mingyu lashed out at him or simply laughed in his face. He’d seen her cut a man to ribbons with that pretty little laugh.

“You should let go of my hand,” was all she said.

“Mingyu—”

“Let go.”

Her whispered command was soft, intimate, yet she slipped away into the shadows of the surrounding trees without another glance.

Kaifeng frowned after her, feeling the loss of contact deep inside.

“Constable Wu.”

The chilling voice behind him explained her abrupt departure. Kaifeng turned to face the imperial censor.

Inspector Xi approached at a laconic pace. “How is your investigation into the general’s death progressing?”

“The inspector should know. He is sent all of our reports.”

Xi Lun’s lip curled into a sneer. “Then I should say that your investigation isn’t progressing well at all. There is no new information, yet here you are, hiding in the shadows and engaging in idle pursuits.”

His gaze flickered to the cluster of trees just behind Kaifeng. But Mingyu had gone.

This was a dangerous man, Kaifeng knew. A powerful man and someone who was set upon catching his every mistake.

“I am here at Magistrate Li Yen’s request,” Kaifeng replied formally.

“The magistrate seems overly reliant on his humble servant’s abilities, does he not?”

“That I cannot say.”

The inspector shook his head. “No manners.”

With that, the interrogation was over. Turning on his heel, the inspector headed toward the entertainment pavilion. Kaifeng moved in the opposite direction, toward the archery park.

He planned to remain unseen for the rest of the event, but the moment he reached the target area, another familiar face appeared. Bai Huang emerged wearing an expensive-looking turquoise robe accented with yellow and green embroidery. He took Kaifeng’s side as if they were old friends. They weren’t.

“Ah, the surly and unpleasant Wu Kaifeng.”

“Lord Bai.”

“It must be fate that we keep meeting, Constable. First you visit our family mansion and now you’re here.” He looked to the wooden targets. “How is your skill with a bow?”

“Quite poor.”

“Good!” Bai grinned, unperturbed. “Let’s have a wager.”

The young aristocrat led him to the empty target at the far end of the lane. Bai Huang’s propensity for gambling was well-known within the Pingkang li as well as his weakness for strong drink, pretty girls and every other distraction the pleasure quarter offered.

“I have no money,” Kaifeng said when Lord Bai thrust a bow into his hands.

“Money?” Bai Huang snorted. “I have no need for your constable’s wages. We play for more hard-won trophies.”

Kaifeng stared at him.

“Penalty drinks. And honor.” Bai Huang waved to an attendant at the edge of the clearing. The servant hurried over with a wine tray which the young lord took possession of. “You are welcome to go first, Constable.”

Archery was a gentleman’s sport. Kaifeng had only received minimal training in his time with the provincial army before being relegated to the infantry.

Gamely, he squared himself against the target and brought the first arrow to the nock. “You’ve moved us far away from the other archers.”

Several of the noblemen had now started practicing for the upcoming match, but Bai Huang had selected the target on the far end. There was no answer as Kaifeng drew back, steadied his frame and released. The arrow missed all of the painted marks to embed itself into the corner of the target block.

Lord Bai made a regretful sound as he held out a cup of wine. “Valiant effort, Constable.”

“You haven’t even attempted your shot.”

“Are you saying I can’t do better than that?” Bai Huang scoffed. “All in now.”

As Kaifeng drank, Bai Huang continued to speak in a lowered tone. “Magistrate Li came to call upon me the day after you visited. He had all the same questions you did. I gave him all the same answers.”

“As would be expected.”

“What are you about, Wu? Are you scheming behind the magistrate’s back?”

Gone was the hapless flower prince. Bai Huang was fully the aristocrat, entitled, in command, expecting full obedience.

“I am looking for answers,” Kaifeng replied calmly. “Magistrate Li is fully aware of my intentions, but there are others. You may want to shoot now for appearances.”

With his grin back in place, Lord Bai retrieved the bow. His stance appeared careless as he took aim, but the arrow landed squarely in the diamond at the top left corner. The next one hit top right, also on mark.

“We should work together,” Bai proposed as he returned the bow. “You’re good at what you do. When my wife—when Yue-ying and I were trying to resolve that incident last year, you were right behind us at every step. You might have found the killer first if—”

“If you weren’t hiding information from me,” Kaifeng finished for him.

Bai Huang shrugged. “Everyone has their secrets. You, as well.”

Kaifeng had no response for that. His secrets were long buried. They meant nothing anymore.

Lord Bai had secrets, as well. Kaifeng had always suspected there was more to him than he revealed in the Pingkang li.

“Why did you take such an interest in General Deng?” Kaifeng inquired. “From what I’ve been told, he was transferred from the capital a long time ago.”

“Maybe I just want to be useful and accomplish something of importance.” A cryptic look crossed Bai’s face. One that almost looked like longing. “There’s only so much organizing one can do in the archives.”

A crowd gathered three targets away as another favored son of the empire started his practice. Deng Enlai displayed intense concentration as he set up for his shot.

Kaifeng watched as the young man positioned his first arrow. “The Emperor invited the general’s son?”

“Likely to take the place of his late father.” Bai Huang turned away in apparent disinterest as he drained his cup.

“Young Deng is only fifteen years old.”

Bai nodded. “Rumor is he’s petitioned the Emperor for control of his father’s territory. Such times are these, when warlords pass on their command to their heirs just like kings.”

“He appears skilled with his weaponry.”

The youth’s stance was poised and confident among the elder statesmen. One after another, his arrows embedded into their marks. He paid no attention to anyone else, not even when well-wishers offered praise.

“The Emperor could have summoned Deng to the capital for another purpose,” Wu surmised. “He demanded Deng’s presence along with his entire family to make a point. What better way to enforce loyalty than by holding Deng’s entire bloodline hostage?”

Bai Huang laughed and lifted his wine in a mock toast. “The Son of Heaven does not need to be so underhanded. We are all his humble servants.”

Though his tone was amused, there was a sharp note beneath it. Bai Huang, like most men, was a poor liar when under scrutiny.

“Deng Zhi was becoming powerful, too powerful for even an Emperor to control. Perhaps the Emperor had the general assassinated himself.”

Bai’s smile disappeared. He set down his wine and shoved Kaifeng away from the range. “Do you have any sense at all, Wu? Watch what you say,” he warned through his teeth.

“It’s true, then.”

“It’s nonsense.”

“The Ministry of Defense was watching Deng. Your own father suspected him of treason. Cutting off the general’s head would be easier than a public confrontation, especially considering how Deng had command of a substantial army so close to the capital.”

“Enough.” Bai broke apart from him, banishing all pretense of a friendly match. “We don’t speak ill of the dead, Constable Wu. Nor of the Emperor.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

MINGYU ROSE BEFORE dawn to soak in a hot bath scented with jasmine oil. Little Hong and Old Auntie assisted in her preparations with the solemnity of ritual while the Lotus remained quiet around them.

Her hair was washed, combed and coiled high to be held in place with jeweled pins. A fine silk robe was draped around her shoulders and she stepped out onto the street to find a carriage ready and waiting for her.

Today she traveled alone. Apparently the summons had come late in the evening accompanied by a generous gift of silver. The request had been direct: she was to come to Inspector Xi Lun’s residence at the Dragon Hour.

Mingyu had known Xi Lun would ask for her again, but the hour was early to be summoned to a man’s bed. Though desire had no set schedule. She just prayed that her fears were unfounded.

The gong sounded five times just as the carriage came to a stop before a wooden gate. From the front, the house was modest in appearance. Imperial censors were supposed to be steadfast and honest men, the eyes and ears of the Emperor. Luxury might indicate they had a weakness for expensive things and were open to bribes.

Mingyu blew out a breath as she stepped down from the carriage. The only ones who needed to fear the Censorate were crooked officials. Xi Lun was just a man, she reminded herself. His rank and wealth gave him power over her, but she had power over him, as well.

Xi Lun was sitting in the courtyard, brush in hand as he bent over the writing table. In a few delicate strokes, an orchid emerged in ink.

“This flower reminds me of you,” he said, the movement of his brush never ceasing. “Elegant, mysterious, sensual.”

The tip caressed the curved petals almost luridly. A chill ran down her spine.

“The inspector’s strokes are confident, yet elegant,” she remarked, looking over the simple black outline. “There is restraint here. Simplicity.”

The inspector bit back a smile, but his eyes practically gleamed. “Flattery is part of a courtesan’s trade.”

“As is knowledge of the four arts.”

She moved closer, careful to keep the corner of the desk between them as she inspected the painting. Oddly, the drape of the petals did seem to evoke a woman’s silhouette, both long-limbed and graceful. Something about the style seemed familiar. Disturbingly so. She tried to chase down the source of the feeling, but it receded away to the corners of her mind.

“Nothing more to say?” Xi taunted.

If he was a relentless storm, then she would bend like a reed. This was survival.

“It’s beautiful,” she said earnestly.

“I am seeking to discover the essence of the orchid. To hold it captive.”

She tried to infuse warmth into her smile. “Perhaps you try too hard.”

“I am quite determined.”

Xi set down his brush and gestured for his servants to clear away the scroll and writing implements. Mingyu seated herself opposite him as tea was set down before them. His gaze remained fixed on her the entire time.

“My duties with the Censorate don’t leave much opportunity for painting, but being back in the capital inspires me. I felt the urge to pick up my brush once more.”

“Did you paint often, Inspector?”

“I earned my way by painting when I was a candidate for the imperial exams. At the time, the very fact that I had to make my own money was looked down upon as unfavorable by the scholar-gentry.”

“I do not consider it unfavorable.”

He regarded her as if he were trying to see through her skin to her bones.

“Not that the opinion of a courtesan holds any weight,” Mingyu added as the silence continued.

Xi Lun was difficult to read. Even more difficult than Wu Kaifeng. At least she was becoming accustomed to the constable’s moods and had learned he was not as surly or humorless as she’d initially thought. Mingyu caught her face warming amid these private thoughts and looked away, affecting demureness.

It was a mistake to hold another man in her thoughts. A man could always tell when there was a rival present, whether in body or spirit.

“Your opinion matters very much to me.” He paused as if to let the declaration sink in. “And times are changing. The Emperor holds talent higher than birth.”

“Then the Son of Heaven has rightly chosen to honor your accomplishments.”

“Again, flattery.”

She flashed him a coy look. “What man doesn’t appreciate it?”

He didn’t answer, but she could see he was pleased. Tension drained from her shoulders. This cycle of banter and flirtation was a familiar one.

“How did you learn to paint?” she asked.

“My father taught me.” He sipped his tea, the rigidness of his posture relaxing only a touch. “His works were poor imitations of the masters. The paintings earned little more than the cost of ink and paper.”

“But that would hardly describe your paintings.” This part wasn’t flattery. There was obvious skill in his brushstrokes.

“Have you seen the works of the great Zhou Fang?”

“Only imitations.”

“Zhou painted court ladies, reflecting his noble upbringing. I had never seen ladies of the court playing polo or on a morning stroll with flowers in their hair. Instead, I painted scenes of the city, of the tearooms and scholars’ quarters. Occasionally, an official would purchase one and it happened often enough that I was able to keep myself clothed and fed as well as afford the fees for the entrance exams.”

“I would very much like to see your paintings one day,” she said.

“I accepted money for them so they no longer belong to me. In any case, that was all in the past.” He set his tea down and leaned back, his hands folded before him as he scrutinized her once more. A man of control through and through. “Well, you certainly have succeeded in distracting me.”

“I do apologize,” she murmured.

“I can smell your perfume.”

His blunt observation put her back in her place. Xi Lun was all but reminding Mingyu that she had come here subservient, ready to please. She dreaded the thought of engaging in an affair with him. Sex would just be another way for him to exert his dominance.

“I meant to ask you about Wu Kaifeng,” he continued.

“Constable Wu?”

“I saw him speaking with you at the Emperor’s banquet the other day. Was he bothering you?”

“The constable is the essential lawman, always asking questions.”

“He’s not a lawman,” Xi interrupted. “He’s a servant and a hired thug. I can make sure he does not impinge upon you any further.”

She opened her mouth to defend Kaifeng, but immediately shut it. Xi had obviously targeted him as a threat. It would do no good to fan that fire, especially when Xi Lun held so much influence as a censor.

“I appreciate it,” she replied humbly. “I doubt the constable will trouble me any further. I’ve told him all I know about General Deng’s passing.”

At the mention of Deng, the inspector sneered. “Magistrate Li and his head constable are fools. I’m beginning to think the general’s murderer will never be caught.”

“The new magistrate and his constable have been very diligent in administering justice in the quarter.”

Even as she spoke, she admonished herself for it. A courtesan had to remain neutral. Blank, as Wu had criticized. She would often entertain an important official one day and then pour wine for his bitter enemy the next. Or even mediate between the both of them at the same banquet.

“I would expect that you, of all people, would not be so lenient.”

A sense of foreboding closed in on her. “What do you mean, Inspector?”

“I have been following the magistrate’s cases for some time now, including the travesty he made of the murder at the Hundred Songs last year. Li Yen allowed his incompetent constable to take the lead and you were forced to suffer for it.”

Mingyu bit her tongue. Xi Lun had been spying on the quarter for a long time. Not that she could exactly accuse him of spying. He was an imperial censor. His position allowed him to pry into everyone’s secrets.

“Thank the Goddess of Mercy, I was pronounced innocent of all crimes,” she replied cautiously.

“If you weren’t, I would have certainly stepped in, Lady Mingyu. But unfortunately you were still imprisoned by that good-for-nothing.”

Her heartbeat skipped. Xi hadn’t been just watching the magistrate’s office. He’d been watching her.

“I’m fortunate to have such an ally.” She bowed as a gesture of gratitude while her mind raced.

Xi Lun claimed to have noticed her before she had become established as one of the elite courtesans of the Pingkang li. He had requested a return to the capital and then watched her from a distance to plan out his approach. Women like her relied on holding men in their thrall, but it was a thin line between possessiveness and obsession.

“If Constable Wu contacts you again, do not speak to him,” the inspector instructed. “Let me know of it immediately. He holds no authority over you.”

Mingyu was sick to her stomach. “I will.”

“I am expected in the inner court today, otherwise we could converse longer. But I will see you again very soon.”

“Yes, Inspector. I look forward to it.”

“Do you truly?”

As Xi’s gaze honed in on her, Mingyu willed herself to show nothing. Her expression remained blank and unassuming. A clear, glass lake. Let him see what he wanted to see.

“I’ll wear perfume for you,” she replied, all sugar and honey. His eyes darkened.

As she reached the garden entrance, Mingyu thought she was finally free, but Xi called out to her, forcing her to turn.

The censor remained seated at his desk, hands folded. “You are aware that Madame Sun received fifty taels of silver last night.”

“Of course, Inspector.” Madame had made sure that she was well aware. Mingyu bowed her head humbly. “Thank you for the generous gift.”

Mingyu braced for what would come next. It was ungentlemanly to speak of money, to remind her of who truly held the power here and that she was nothing but a commodity.

“I’ve asked that you not be hired out for any more banquets or functions,” he continued smoothly as the walls of the garden closed in on her. “The infamous beauty won’t be required to perform like a lowly song girl any longer.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

KAIFENG SPENT THE day in the drinking houses and tearooms in the section where Deng’s soldiers were quartered. There was little to be found about the general’s bodyguards. They had disappeared immediately after their master’s death, presumably to hunt down the one traitor among them.

At the magistrate’s approval, Kaifeng hired thief-catchers to track the men, though such mercenaries were notoriously disreputable. At one time, he had earned his living doing the very same thing. He considered seeking out the bodyguards himself, but such a task would mean leaving the capital in a chase that could take weeks or even months.

Evening came and Kaifeng retired after a busy day to seek out a meal. The worn benches and tables at his usual corner appeared as they always had, illuminated by lanterns that hung from the posts surrounding the stands. But tonight something was most certainly different. Another customer had taken his seat and not merely any customer.

Lady Mingyu was out of place in her jade silk, like a peacock among pigeons. A long wooden case lay cradled in her lap. Kaifeng would have warned anyone else to beware of thieves while carrying such finery, but no common pickpocket would dare to approach her. Not when everyone was watching this goddess who had appeared among them.

She glanced up from her bowl as he approached. The noodles appeared untouched.

“Lady Mingyu, has something happened?”

“Is there somewhere we can go, Constable?”

Mingyu appeared calm, but he knew her to remain steady under the direst of circumstances.

“There is a place, but—”

The room that temporarily served as his domicile was located nearby, but surely it would be crude to suggest such a thing.

“I will follow your lead, Constable.” Mingyu had a way of commanding obedience, while remaining soft-spoken and unchallenging. One couldn’t help but comply.

Her sleeves billowed around her as she stood, the sweep of them nearly brushing the ground. In profile, he could see the gentle slope of her neck and the shape of her cheek. Beautiful from any angle, in any light. Kaifeng guided her away from the corner while curious eyes followed their departure.

Mingyu had ventured far from the Pingkang li to come to him. Rarely had he seen her outside of a function without an escort or her courtesan-sisters in attendance.

He looked to the mysterious case she held between them, tucked close to her side. “Are you in danger?”

“We can speak once we’re alone,” she murmured.

His room was rented out from a shop owner with a workroom to spare. Mingyu followed him into the dark mouth of the alley. Her hand lifted to rest against the crook of his arm, warming him through his sleeve.

He reached the back door of the shop and held it open for her to enter first.

“It’s dark,” she said as he closed the door behind them.

“I’ll light a lamp.”

He found the tinder pouch in the darkness and struck the flint against it. A bit of tinder ignited which he held to the dish of oil on the table. Soon a small orb of light illuminated the room.

When he turned, Mingyu was glancing over the surroundings, though there was little to see. It was four walls and a roof to keep him dry during the rainy season, which had thankfully gone its way. The sleeping pallet was fashioned of wood and set on the floor against the far wall. By the table was a single stool. He never had guests.

There was a small window cut into the back wall and the light ebbing through it was faint. A saving grace was that there was little in the room to trip over. His belongings were few. Most nights, he didn’t even bother to light the lamp to save the oil. He simply removed his sword and eased onto his pallet, alone with his thoughts until morning.

“This lodging is only temporary,” he began. Though the place he had just purchased was in no better a state.

Mingyu gave the room a cursory glance and nodded absently.

“What is it you wished to speak to me about?”

“You don’t know, Constable?”

Her slippers glided over the bare floor as she came to place the wooden case onto the table beside the lamp. She was close now, close enough for him to smell the jasmine scent of her skin and hear the whisper of silk that surrounded her.

He did know. His pulse beat relentlessly beneath his skin, like a fierce creature demanding escape. There could only be one reason Mingyu was here with him, alone and smiling at him with those lips that men dreamed of. There was only one reason, but it simply could not be the reason.

The firelight danced in her eyes as she looked up at him while he stood like a lion carved in stone before her. If he dared to move, the moment might break.

She touched her palm to his chest, pressing lightly as if to test for a heartbeat. Her presence here brought everything with it, all the emotions he’d held at bay for so long. The loneliness came crashing in on him like a rush of cold, black water, the emptiness of his days, waiting for a glimpse of her like a love-starved youth even when she didn’t know he was watching. Even when she hated him.

Whatever answer Mingyu was looking for, she must have found it. Her fingers curled into the front of his robe and her lips parted in invitation.

His hand closed around her wrist to stop her. “I know what this is,” he said grimly. “Tell me why you’re here. Why you are really here.”

“To be with you.”

He shook his head.

“Is it so hard to believe that I would come to you simply because I wanted to?”

A sharp pang struck him in the chest. Her voice was soft, her expression pained, but Mingyu moved away before he could answer. She reached for the wooden case she’d brought with her.

“There is something I needed you to see,” she said, her tone confident now. And cold.

She opened the lid and then stepped back. “This was given to me as a gift.”

A scroll lay inside, the paper the color of pale ivory. Even with his rough hands, he knew to handle it with care as he unrolled the top portion.

“An orchid,” he declared flatly. Certainly not what he expected.

“But does it look familiar to you?” Mingyu held her breath as she waited for his answer.

Kaifeng inspected the painting closely, from the delicate flower to the array of leaves surrounding it. The flower was rendered in a few simple lines. The petals were painted a deep rose color with the center accented in bright yellow, the green of the leaves a soothing counterpoint to the fire of it. He frowned as he read over the characters that graced the edge.

“‘A faraway orchid in a lonely valley,’” she read breathlessly.

“Similar to the inscription on the scroll found in General Deng’s study,” he observed.

“On a portrait of me.”

He pushed the oil lamp and other items on the table aside so he could open the entire scroll over the surface. By itself, the painting seemed harmless; a solitary flower leaning slightly in the breeze.

“Who gave this to you?”

“Inspector Xi Lun. He had it sent to the Lotus this evening.”

He started. “Xi Lun?”

“He’s the imperial censor who is overseeing your investigation, is he not?” Mingyu watched for his reaction as she spoke. “The inspector admitted that he had admired me from afar many years ago, when he was a candidate for the imperial exams. Before General Deng became my benefactor. Xi Lun also spoke of earning money selling paintings. He sold that picture of me to Deng, I just know this.”

“We don’t know anything,” Kaifeng replied curtly. That demon Xi Lun seemed to be everywhere, but Kaifeng couldn’t start rushing headlong to conclusions. “I will have to compare the two paintings. Lay them side by side so I can study the inscriptions and the style. And even if Xi Lun painted your portrait, what does it truly tell us?”

“That Deng Zhi and the inspector are connected. Don’t you find it suspicious?”

“Mingyu, you are notorious in the capital. There are any number of powerful men connected through you.”

Returning to the scroll, Kaifeng braced his hands on either side of the table as he studied it. The painting in Deng’s study had been stained with blood. Kaifeng had assumed it was merely circumstance that Deng had her portrait before him when he was killed, but what if it wasn’t coincidence?

“Inspector Xi is fixated on me,” Mingyu insisted. “When he came back to the capital, he started watching me and everyone around me. He knows about my arrest last year. He knows about our association.”

“What association would that be?” Kaifeng looked up from the scroll, his shoulders tense.

She avoided his eyes. “Any association is a threat to him. He’s obsessed, Kaifeng.”

“And what man isn’t obsessed with the beautiful Mingyu? Wasn’t there some student several years ago who took his own life out of despair when you didn’t return his affections?”

“Those are just stories.” She moved away from him, exasperated. “Every couple of years there’s a new lovesick scholar and another courtesan. It’s the same tragic fable over and over. This is different. Xi Lun wants to own me, Kaifeng.”

Mingyu paced to the opposite end of the room. Her movements were agitated and desperation crept into her voice. “Xi Lun thinks he already owns me. He doesn’t want me hosting any banquets or performing in the quarter. It will only be a matter of time before he offers to redeem me and Madame Sun will be forced to accept his offer.”

This was an aspect of life in the Pingkang li that Kaifeng was wholly unfamiliar with. He could only watch and listen as a hollow pit widened in his stomach. Lately that was all he could be, a silent observer.

“Isn’t that inevitable? Won’t some patron eventually claim you as his own?”

“Then let it be anyone but him,” she said bitterly. “He’s worse than General Deng. Xi Lun thinks of me as a solitary flower that he wants to save. He’ll lock me up so that I only exist for him. A lonely orchid.”

Mingyu bowed her head. The sight of her looking so defeated tore into him.

Methodically, he rolled up the scroll and returned it to the case. “I am trying to think of some way I can help, but—”

“There’s nothing anyone can do. Madame Sun owns me. In turn, Madame Sun is ruled by the powerful and wealthy. If she causes the inspector to lose face by refusing, her livelihood, the entire Lotus Palace is at risk. You know how relentless Xi can be.”

She looked over at the wooden case, her shoulders sunken. “This is a gift indicating the inspector’s intentions. I had always hoped that after so many years, I would finally earn my freedom, but it was just an illusion.”

He wished with every breath in his body there was something he could do. Kaifeng closed the case, shutting away the ill-omen inside. “So you belong to the inspector now.”

“Not yet.”

Her gaze filled with longing, but it wasn’t for him. Kaifeng knew this in every bone in his body as he crossed the room to go to her.

“Say something,” she implored when he stood silently before her.

He lifted his hand to trace the curve of her cheek, very much aware of the roughness of his touch. “If I know anything about you, Lady Mingyu, it’s that no man can truly claim you.”

Mingyu tilted her head back and her eyes, those dark, captivating eyes, took hold of him. “You can,” she said breathlessly.

But her look was far from seductive. Her hand tenuously covered his. “Don’t you ever think of this? Of the two of us together?”

She hadn’t touched anything but his hand and his body was already taut with desire, his breathing labored.

“I think of it,” he confessed.

Mingyu raised herself onto her toes and his hands found their way around her waist without any conscious thought on his part. She weighed no more than a butterfly as he lifted her. The sleeping pallet was set against the wall, no more than five steps away. Kaifeng lowered her onto it while he wrapped his arms around her to cradle the fall. And it was a fall in every way, a drop off a cliff with no bottom.

Kaifeng loosened her sash enough to ease the layers of cloth aside. It wasn’t long before his hand brushed against the warm, smooth skin of her thighs. Softer than the finest silk.

“This is only for tonight, isn’t it?” he inquired solemnly.

Mingyu closed her eyes and shook her head. Not because she was denying it, he knew, but because she didn’t want to answer.

“I understand, Mingyu.” All he wanted was the truth.

He bent to kiss her the way a kiss should happen between a man and a woman. Not out in the open. Not with drums beating and the threat of intrusion from the outside world.

Mingyu’s kiss was just as she was—bold, passionate, vulnerable. He took the time to discover her in the give and take between them.

His tongue slipped into her mouth, tasting wine and the sharp, sweet bite of cloves. With a moan, Mingyu dug her hands into his shoulders. She writhed beneath him, melding her soft curves to his hard muscles, causing blood to rush to his organ.

Kaifeng reached into the opening of her robe to explore her with his hands in a winding and sensual path that circled her breasts and coursed down over her stomach. The soft sigh of her breath urged him on and her muscles warmed and her skin heated with each caress. When he slid a rough fingertip over her sex, she became pure fire in his arms.

“Kaifeng.”

Mingyu called out his name with her head thrown back and her eyes squeezed shut. She called him other things, sweet, endearing things, as he continued to stroke her until she was slick and soft and willing.

“I want you to remember this,” he said as he slid a finger deep within her. Her damp flesh closed around him and a shudder racked her body.

“I will,” she gasped.

Her eyes were black with desire, caught between pleasure and agony, as she struggled to catch her breath. He was going to make love to her as many times that night as he could manage, if only to see that look.

There was no elegance to her now as her hips rose to demand more of his touch. She was talented and treasured and sought after and she was writhing beneath him on the wooden slats of his bed.

“Stop.”

Her command was no more than an exhalation of breath. She gasped as his fingers sank deeper into her.

“No, please stop. I want you with me.” Yet her body still arched into him, pleading for more.

His voice rumbled in his throat. “You’re close. So close.”

Kaifeng could see it in every part of her. Her skin was flushed pink, her nipples raised into hard points. He was caught up in the sight of her pleasure and in knowing he was the one who had brought her to the edge.

But Mingyu would not be denied. She dragged his head down and caught his lower lip between her teeth, demanding blood from him along with everything else. But pain wasn’t her goal. Breaking the kiss, she removed his belt and tugged his robe away from his shoulders. Then she undid the tie of his trousers and pulled them down until he was completely bared before her. When her hands closed around his sex, he lost all ability to think.

She stroked the length of him slowly, her hands soft, her grip firm. Everything that he was narrowed impossibly down to where she held him. He closed his eyes and let her touch consume him, but Mingyu wasn’t done with him. From the blind place where he’d willed himself, he sensed her hands leaving him only to be replaced with the slick caress of her tongue. Then her mouth surrounded him, hot and wet, and every muscle in his body seized with the sheer pleasure of it.

He had to force her away from him. Impatiently, he removed the rest of her clothing, stripping off layer upon layer from Mingyu like so much armor until not a thread separated them.

When they came together again, she kissed his mouth, then the side of his neck, then his shoulder. Each touch like a fall of peach blossoms. Without warning, he felt the sharpness of teeth against his throat. His organ thickened to the point of pain.

Pushing Mingyu back onto the pallet, Kaifeng hooked a hand beneath her knee to lift and open her. He rested the head of his sex against her opening for only a moment before sinking in fully.

Mingyu let out a sigh of surrender as her back arched entirely off the bed. He caught her like that, his arms circling her lower back to steady her as he thrust again, slow, but deep. Driving the breath from her in one long gasp.

It had to be like this. His body was no longer his own. It belonged to some wild creature as he plunged into warm, wet flesh again and again. And his mind—his mind had gone to that dark place where stars retreated in the daylight.

Vaguely, he sensed Mingyu’s hips lifting to meet him. She clung to him, her arms around his shoulders, her legs locked at his hips while down below, her flesh shaped itself to him where their bodies were joined.

He couldn’t last. Not for long, with Mingyu holding on to him in every way possible. Her eyes were squeezed shut. A thin crease appeared between them as she concentrated on her own pleasure. Her brow glistened with sweat as their bodies struggled, seeking that perfect moment at any cost. Kaifeng willed himself to continue, to delay the inevitable moment of release, but his will meant nothing.

Reaching between the crush of their bodies, he strained to find the center of her sex once more. His fingers rasped over the tiny bud as he moved inside her. All at once, Mingyu tightened around him. With a strangled cry, she pressed her face against the crook of his neck as her body shuddered, lost. He followed her, thrusting without grace or skill until sensation overwhelmed him. His very essence poured out of him and into her.

With that rush of sensation, the fog of emotion drained away and his mind cleared. He wasn’t blind. Mingyu was using him, and using him well indeed. Yet every instinct in him wanted to sink his head onto Mingyu’s shoulder, to taste the salt on her skin and to stay for as long as she let him.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“YOU’RE STILL HERE.” Kaifeng sounded surprised.

“I’m still here.”

Mingyu curled up against him, seeking warmth against the chill of the early morning. She liked the way he sounded, his deep voice muddled with sleep and every breath rumbling in his chest.

Languidly, he rolled away from her and propped himself up on his elbow. The action was immediately followed by a yawn. She was reminded of a lion drenched in sunlight.

“So this is what you really look like,” she mused.

“Frightening?” he asked, his voice tight.

“Not at all.”

She reached out to trace the line of his arm. Kaifeng was lean and spare of build, not one bit wasted. When poems spoke of masculine beauty, they prescribed a cultured appearance—light skin, arched eyebrows, an inoffensive chin and forehead which didn’t draw too much attention to one or the other.

Kaifeng was far from an example of male beauty. His features were striking, his skin bronze. The cords of sinew and muscle that defined his body spoke of toil and labor rather than refinement, but the effect was undeniably powerful to the eye. At least to her eye.

“I’ve been studying your face,” she said, resting her head over one bent arm.

He didn’t say anything, though he did shift to face her while he waited for her to continue. They mirrored one another as they reclined upon the pallet, engaged in a lover’s conversation.

“It’s not an unpleasant face,” she observed.

Kaifeng frowned at her.

“It’s not a bad face at all, really, in its parts,” she went on. “People find your features unusual because of your lack of emotion.”

He displayed such statuelike control now, though there was a gleam in his eye. Perhaps she only saw those little nuances now that she was accustomed to looking at him and was no longer afraid to meet his gaze.

“It would be easier if you were prone to scowling or snarling, but you never do that, either.” She eased closer to touch her fingertip to his collarbone. From there, she traced the shape of it toward his throat then down his breastbone. From the rise and fall of his chest, she knew he wasn’t unaffected, but such knowledge wasn’t easy to come by. Wu Kaifeng gave away nothing without a price. “You don’t show anger, or happiness, or fear. No one knows how to react to that.”

“I’ve always suspected that I did not feel things the same way others did,” he admitted. “Emotion never seemed to overwhelm me as it did others. I didn’t feel as much or as strongly. It’s always been that way.”

She was insistent. “But you do feel things.”

“I do when I’m with you,” he said begrudgingly.

Kaifeng certainly felt passion and desire. She had seen both in his eyes last night. She had also seen loneliness, something she understood too well.

A lump formed in her throat. For the next few moments, Kaifeng did nothing but hold her while Mingyu rested her head against his chest to listen to his heartbeat. She tried hard not to rush the moment, to become impatient, but the sun was rising too quickly. Their time was nearly done.

Mingyu was the first to break away from the embrace, but not to escape. Not yet. She eased Kaifeng back onto the bed, but he caught her in his arms and rolled her beneath him.

They should make this stolen time worthwhile, should they not? It would be the last time. She squeezed her eyes shut to force back any tears. When she opened them, Kaifeng was there, filling her vision. He might not be handsome, but she didn’t trust beauty. Beauty made it easier to deceive the world. Wu was never anything but what he was.

Maybe that was all she needed to fall for him, for just a little while. She strained upward and they came together, his mouth on hers, her arms around him.

He found her sash and looped the length of silk around her wrists to secure her arms overhead, but the gesture was only symbolic. Almost poetic, for someone untrained in poetry. He couldn’t tie her there, he couldn’t keep her.

Unable to reach for him, all Mingyu could do was receive and accept. As Kaifeng lowered himself between her knees, as she felt his long fingers parting her, she stopped thinking of what would come in the next days, or even in the next hours.

Sometimes the answers were simple.

Mingyu held her breath and it seemed like forever before the tip of his tongue touched her, swirling gently and sending her to heaven.

* * *

THE SUN ROSE high to bear down on her as Mingyu hurried through the streets. Her hair threatened to escape from its pins; she had only managed to coil it loosely before leaving. There was no way to fix it on her own and Kaifeng was no help. He was in a mood, running her hair through his fingers and pressing his lips to it. She’d had to swat his hands away in order to make herself presentable.

“If I only had a hundred taels of gold,” he said as he tucked a strand behind her ear.

“Now, Constable, you know that wouldn’t be enough,” Mingyu teased, but the corners of her eyes stung.

Kaifeng had let her go then. He’d had no choice and neither did she, but Mingyu had that memory to take with her. At least she had the memories.

She kept their final moments close to her heart as the lotus petal pavilion came into view. The Dragon Hour was done and the day was well into the Snake Hour. Mingyu straightened her shoulders and held her head high. Her posture, her expression, every gesture down to how she placed her hands needed to command attention and respect. Madame Sun had taught her that.

The headmistress was waiting for her in the entrance hall. “Where were you?”

“I was with my sister,” Mingyu replied without pause.

Madame’s eyes flashed fire and her hand shot out. Mingyu caught the glitter of gold before a palm cracked across her face. The world went white as pain radiated through her skull.

“Always lying! Who were you with?”

Pressing a hand to her cheek, she blinked back tears. She had refused to cry when leaving Kaifeng. She certainly wouldn’t weep now.

Madame had only hit her once before. It had happened soon after Mingyu had come to the Lotus Palace. Yue-ying had been sold off to a brothel and Mingyu had tried to run away to find her. She was discovered by the city guards who had immediately returned her to the pleasure house. Old Auntie, less old then, had held her by the arms while Madame Sun had slapped her hard enough to make her ears ring.

That blow had quieted her momentarily, but it did not silence her forever. Mingyu had never forgotten.

She straightened to her full height now, raising herself over Madame. Her face burned hot, both from the blow and from anger, but it would do no good to lash out at her foster mother. Slowly Mingyu lowered her hand and regarded Madame with a chilling stare.

Anger, as well as any other emotion, put a person under someone else’s control. She and Wu Kaifeng were alike in that manner. Neither of them would give anyone that power over them.

“It hardly matters who I was with, Mother,” she said coolly. “I came back, didn’t I?”

Her words held the barest of threats, but the threat was there. Mingyu did not merely command respect, she demanded it. This was the Pingkang li and Madame Sun needed her. They were both slaves in this detached world together.

“Inspector Xi came looking for you last night,” Madame said steadily. “I had to make up a story about how you weren’t feeling well, but he knew I was lying. Do you know how difficult an imperial censor can make things for us?”

“We can make things difficult for him, as well. An esteemed official infatuated with a courtesan like a lovesick scholar.”

Mingyu was tired, tired of this cat-and-mouse game and tired of having to play everyone.

“If Xi Lun is interested, he’ll come back to us,” she told Madame. “I’ll apologize sweetly to him and all will be forgiven.”

With that, she turned on her heel to head toward the stairs. She only made it three steps up before Madame aimed a verbal dart at her back.

“You were with that constable, weren’t you? What is his name...Wu?”

Mingyu stopped and turned around. “Wu Kaifeng is his name,” she offered without shame.

“Inspector Xi will consider it an insult to be bypassed in favor of a lowly constable.” Now Madame Sun was acting as a voice of reason, no railing, no condemnation. She was full of tricks.

“Maybe the inspector will lose interest then and decide I’m not worth the trouble.”

“Mingyu, you’re being difficult on purpose. What have I taught you?”

To always be pleasant. To never make a man lose face. To hide her feelings.

Mingyu was taught that what she wanted didn’t matter, so it was better not to want things. Or rather, it was better to want the same things her foster mother wanted.

“I’m going to my chamber to prepare myself,” Mingyu said wearily. “One never knows what self-important guests will arrive at any moment.”

Madame remained at the foot of the stairs. When Mingyu finally reached her quarters, she closed the door and let out a sigh. The exchange had been an easy one. After lashing out, Madame Sun had retreated and left her alone.

Perhaps Madame could be reasoned with, after all. As she selected a fresh robe from the wardrobe, Mingyu tried to think of how to convince Madame not to sell her off. She was a great asset to the Lotus, and Inspector Xi, despite his lofty position, was young and inexperienced. Not nearly as crafty as Madame Sun.

As Mingyu started to disrobe, she was still alone in her chamber. Usually Little Hong or Jing-min would attend to her. She started toward the door to call for one of them, but the rattle of chains stopped her. A metal lock snapped shut on the other side.

She should have known better than to be fooled into thinking she had won. Madame Sun had taught Mingyu everything she knew. Her foster mother was just as headstrong, crafty and impossible to predict as she was.

CHAPTER TWENTY

ALONE IN THE records room, Kaifeng laid out Mingyu’s portrait and the orchid scroll side by side. The activities of the magistrate’s offices continued around him, but he narrowed his focus onto these two paintings, separating out all other assumptions and prejudices.

The brushwork was similar, he had to admit, in the flow of the lines and the use of color. The painting of Mingyu showed her in a pink robe and a gold sash, eerily similar in color to the flower. She sat alone in a grassy meadow. The orchid alone in a field still yields its fragrance, unnoticed.

The second scroll also depicted a sense of isolation, in this case with a single orchid surrounded by a fan of green leaves rather than a woman. The inscription was added in the same manner to the upper righthand corner.

But on his grave, wasn’t every painting in the capital about orchids and peonies? He lacked any sense of refinement and was no expert in art. The one mark that would have identified the artist, the personal chop stamped in red ink, had been blotted out with a splatter of blood on the portrait scroll.

The stain formed a ghastly frame around Mingyu’s face. In the center of it, her expression was youthful, vibrant. Uncaring that there was no one present to witness her beauty.

This painting would have been completed before Mingyu achieved her current fame. She would have been one of so many nameless girls in the Pingkang li, each one fighting for notice among the scholar-elite. Xi Lun had been a no name, as well, one of the thousands of candidates vying for imperial recognition.

Xi would have painted this portrait when he was a poor scholar, hungry for fame. His dreams of success became wrapped up in a lovely young courtesan. Her very name seemed auspicious: Mingyu. Bright Jade. It wasn’t hard to imagine the inspector wanting her enough to kill for her. Without her, Xi Lun’s triumph was incomplete.

But this was all conjecture, nothing more than smoke. Though the explanation wasn’t logical, it was still possible. Murder was often an act of passion. There was no sense to it.

The problem was that Kaifeng could no longer look at this painting and not see her. Mingyu of the pleasure quarter, but also the Mingyu he knew when she was with him. And he couldn’t think of her without his mind wandering back deep into the night when she lay warm and sated in his arms. Or his own reckless plunge into pleasure.

“Constable Wu.”

Kaifeng glanced up to see one of the magistrate’s clerks by the door.

“Magistrate Li wanted me to inform you that he is expecting Inspector Xi Lun within the next double hour.”

“Is that all?”

The clerk nodded and disappeared back to his duties.

A warning. Wasting no time, Kaifeng packed up the two scrolls as well as his notes and sketches on the case, everything that was not part of the official record.

If Mingyu’s instinct was correct, the censor had been paying attention to his activities long before Deng’s murder. Xi Lun’s motive was highly suspect as was his intense curiosity over the case. Kaifeng packed the rest of the items into a canvas sack and left the yamen quietly through the west gate with barely a second glance from the guards.

Kaifeng navigated through the streets toward the East Market. Did he have enough evidence to mention his suspicions to Li Yen? There were dire consequences for bringing false accusation against a high-ranking bureaucrat. Inspector Xi was a member of the Emperor’s Censorate and defaming such a high-ranking official could be seen as treason, punishable by death.

But the pattern fit. Someone had wanted Kaifeng removed from office before General Deng’s body was discovered. Xi Lun had immediately insinuated himself into the investigation. Then there was the painting and Xi’s pursuit of Mingyu. Yet none of it amounted to evidence.

Kaifeng wanted Xi Lun to be guilty. Therein lay the weak point of his stance. The man had done nothing but antagonize him. The inspector was also determined to possess Mingyu. Kaifeng couldn’t have her for himself, but if he could protect her from Xi Lun’s claim, then at least she would be free.

Until the next powerful admirer wanted to have her. He rubbed a hand over his temples. There was no end to this.

Mingyu had gotten into his blood along with everything else that clouded a man’s judgment. His fists were clenched with jealousy, his stomach churned in anger. And deep in his chest, where his heart lay pounding, he desired a woman he couldn’t have.

Kaifeng needed to clear his mind and remain impassive. He needed to solve this riddle. He needed to protect Mingyu in the only way he knew.

* * *

MINGYU PRESSED HER ear to the door, listening to the sounds on the other side of the thin panel of wood.

“Little Hong!” she called out.

The footsteps came closer, hesitantly.

“Let me out, Little Sister.”

“Madame Sun has forbidden it,” came the young girl’s voice. “She told us anyone who dared to help you would be beaten.”

“Mother is only angry for the moment because we had an argument,” Mingyu insisted, her tone as sweet as syrup. “I’ll apologize to her and all will be forgiven. Now you listen to your Elder Sister, hmm? Open this door.”

“She’ll throw me out into the streets if I disobey,” the girl protested. “Just stay in your chamber for a few more days. Madame’s temper will cool and she’ll listen to you. She always does.”

Mingyu blew out a sharp breath, agitated. It had been two days already. She hadn’t been allowed to entertain any guests or even see any of the other girls other than when they brought her tea and food. They were all frightened of the headmistress now that they had seen how harsh she could be, even to her favorite.

She sank down to the floor, resting her temple against the door frame. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. Hasn’t your Elder Sister always taken care of you? It makes me sad to see how little I mean to you.”

It was wicked of her to manipulate Little Hong’s emotions so ruthlessly, but Mingyu was desperate. There was silence on the other side of the door. She was starting to gather hope until she heard the frantic whisper.

“She’s coming!”

The footsteps scuffled away, soft and quick as a kitten’s. Mingyu shot to her feet and backed away as the chain outside rattled.

The door opened and Madame Sun stepped into the parlor. Old Auntie and Ziyi followed on her heels. Her younger courtesan-sister stood with her hands folded demurely, but a spark lit in her eye as she regarded Mingyu.

“Have you thought about what you’ve done?” Madame asked coldly.

“I’ve had little to do but think. Has the Lotus been doing well in my absence? Can you still afford good food and wine for your guests?”

“You’re not the only one of my girls who is in demand.”

“It seems I’m not your girl at all. Inspector Xi now determines what I do and say.”

Madame appeared wounded. “This is not what I wanted for you.”

“But the censor paid you too much money to refuse,” Mingyu retorted. “How much was I worth to you, in the end?”

“Disrespectful!” she spat. “I raised you. Trained you myself.”

“What, Mother? No longer regretful?”

Madame narrowed her eyes at her, all trace of sorrow gone. Everything with her was an act.

Old Auntie interrupted with a grunt. “Apologize, my child,” she pleaded.

Mingyu looked from Mother to Old Auntie. This was supposed to be her family, but what an empty association it was. They claimed affection, but every day under Madame Sun’s roof was marked into the ledger book. Even now, when her earnings paid for the Lotus’s upkeep, every mouth of rice and scrap of silk Madame purchased on her behalf was still added to her debt.

“I owe you a substantial amount of money, Mother. One I know you never meant for me to repay,” Mingyu remarked. “You won’t convince me that I owe you gratitude on top of that. Or obedience. Or love.”

Madame flinched at the last part, but her expression immediately hardened. “One day you’ll realize all that I’ve sacrificed for you. I treated you like a daughter.”

“You are not my mother,” Mingyu scoffed. She tilted her chin toward Ziyi who stood silently near the door. “And she isn’t my sister. My true sister is gone from this place now and finally safe. You hold no power over me.”

“I hold your bond, Mingyu, which means you still belong to me. The magistrate himself could not dispute that. Inspector Xi Lun is coming tonight to discuss redemption.” Madame strode up to her and took hold of her chin, like she had done so many times when Mingyu was younger. “You’re a smart girl. You know that acting defiant serves no purpose here. The inspector is your future. It would be best if you made him amenable toward you from the start.”

Mingyu stared into her foster mother’s eyes. The woman’s nails grated over her skin like the talons of a dragon.

“Make sure that you get a good price for me,” Mingyu said coldly.

With a sniff, the headmistress turned on her heel. Old Auntie shuffled toward her once Madame had left.

“Little Mingyu.”

Her chest tightened. She hadn’t been called that in years, but she had once been the youngest in this house. The courtesan-in-training. Mingyu didn’t pull away when the elderly woman took hold of her hands.

“Regardless of all that has happened, we have all lived together harmoniously in the Lotus Palace for all these years, have we not? Let us not part angrily after so long a time.”

Numbness crept over her as she looked into Auntie’s eyes. There were deep creases at the corners and her lids drooped heavily. It was said that Auntie had never been beautiful. She had never been more than a kitchen servant, while Madame Sun had once been one of the most sought-after courtesans in the Pingkang li. Just as Mingyu now was.

Old or young, homely or beautiful, every woman in the quarter was taught to strive for the same goal. Harmony was what Auntie had called it, but it wasn’t peace. It was silence. Feel whatever you needed to feel, but bury it deep. On the surface, there must be tranquility, gaiety and beauty. Such was the facade of the pleasure quarter. Mingyu had become so adept at being pleasing.

Had Madame not stricken her and locked her up, Mingyu would have continued to accept. She would have gone to Xi Lun, shut her mind away and become whatever he wanted her to become.

She would never have woken up.

“I’m not angry at you,” she told Auntie as a matter of courtesy. “Or at Mother.”

Auntie touched her cheek once before trudging out. Her hands were leathery and rough, yet the gesture made Mingyu wonder whether the old woman did hold some affection for her, in her own way. Mother and Auntie were as caring as the Pingkang li allowed, but it was a begrudging and stifled emotion at best.

Maybe she was the same after being trained as a courtesan. Numb inside. Cold and hard-hearted. How else could she feel so much for Kaifeng while in his arms, then walk away without a tear?

Ziyi remained behind once Auntie had gone. “I’m supposed to help you prepare for tonight.”

A basin of water was brought in and there was little conversation between them as Ziyi helped Mingyu wash. Usually the girl was full of chatter, like a little songbird.

“Do you think I’m being foolish?” Mingyu remarked as Ziyi drew a wooden comb through her damp hair to work out the knots.

“A constable, Mingyu?” Ziyi scoffed. “A lowly constable of all people.”

“Wu Kaifeng is not just a constable. He’s a good man. The only man who looks at me as something more than a...a thing.”

“What do we care what they call us? We’re all flowers and jewels here, but there are worse fates.”

“This is not happiness. This is not freedom and it never will be,” Mingyu argued. “Open your eyes.”

“My eyes are open,” Ziyi snapped. “I once thought I was in love, but I was mistaken. He promised we would marry, but he never came back, remember?”

Mingyu did remember. She had never seen Ziyi happier than when her scholar had promised to redeem her. When he didn’t come back, Ziyi had cried for days. Then she never shed another tear, for anything or anyone.

“I vowed at the time that I would never be so foolish again.” Ziyi pinned a flower into her elder’s hair. “I vowed that I would be like you, Mingyu. No man can ever break your heart. You are always untouchable.”

Mingyu laughed bitterly. “And look at me now.”

“You don’t look heartbroken in the least. What were you thinking? To take the one lover who would make Madame the angriest?”

“Do you all think that I’m so heartless?”

“Yes. And we envy you for it.”

The words hit her harder than Madame’s slap. Wu Kaifeng had also doubted her intentions. He couldn’t believe that she would seek him out without some fiendish motive. All she had wanted was a night of freedom, to know desire and warmth and passion.

“Not all of us have powerful men at our feet, one after another,” her courtesan-sister added.

Mingyu twisted away from her ministrations. “If you value the inspector’s attention, why don’t you try to catch his eye yourself?”

“You think our Mother hasn’t already tried? When you were gone last night, Madame sent me to keep Inspector Xi Lun company, but he only wanted one woman. He is already devoted to you.”

“That isn’t a sign of devotion,” she said wearily. “It’s about power.”

“The inspector is wealthy and offers you his protection. He’ll pursue you at any cost. It’s hardly different from romantic love. In some ways, it’s more reliable.”

“It’s different,” Mingyu insisted.

“How is it different?”

Mingyu could offer no answer other than she knew it in her skin, her flesh and her bones. When she was with Kaifeng, she had a glimpse of another place and a different life. He made her see what a lie the Lotus Palace really was. What a lie she was, as well.

“You can tell when it’s true. Inside.”

“I thought so, too, at one time.” Ziyi’s mouth twisted, banishing all of the soft prettiness she was known for. “You were the same way with General Deng. He was infatuated with you, but you held him at arm’s length.”

“That was only what you saw on the outside.”

“The general offered you security as his concubine, a way out of here, but you didn’t care about those things. How you must enjoy life in the Pingkang li. This is your domain, where you reign as Empress, above us all.”

Mingyu fell silent while the words burned into her skin. “I didn’t realize you felt this way,” she said finally.

Her elevated status was crucial to the illusion of the Pingkang li. Every young courtesan and song girl saw how Mingyu was celebrated and treasured. She represented all of their desires, everything they could have if they made themselves irresistible.

She turned and regarded her courtesan-sister with a pleading look. “If you want to be Madame’s favorite, then help me escape.”

Ziyi grew still. “You would leave the quarter for Constable Wu?”

The Pingkang li had been her home for most of her life. She knew every lane and alley there and held powerful men in her thrall. She drank the finest of wines and sampled the best of dishes. The Lotus Palace offered comfort and security, she couldn’t deny it. Yet she couldn’t stay here any longer.

“I’m leaving for myself,” Mingyu said.

She held her breath in the silence that followed, but Ziyi merely resumed her task, ruthlessly stabbing an ornament into Mingyu’s hair.

“Don’t bother trying to convince me, Elder Sister,” she snorted. “I’ve seen you twist powerful men to your will. Keep your schemes to yourself. I won’t be dragged down by them.”

The courtesan pulled the paneled doors shut when she left and the click of the lock came immediately after. Mingyu was left to wait for Inspector Xi’s arrival. No amount of artful deflection on her part would keep him away this time.

But an hour later, there was another click accompanied by the slink of the chain and then silence. Mingyu waited, listening and counting each heartbeat until she was brave enough to test the door.

It swung open freely and she peeked outside. The corridor was empty.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

KAIFENG LIFTED HIS lantern as he followed the old beggar through the twisting alleyways. The pile of rags had come directly to his door that night looking for Constable Wu. He couldn’t say who it was who had sent him. Only that she was a woman.

“Pale-skinned,” the beggar had reported in his raspy voice. “Beautiful.”

His heart had reacted before his head. It had to be Mingyu. She had to be in trouble to seek him out in the middle of the night.

“How much farther?” he asked.

“In the ghost market, sir. Just the next corner.”

For as frail as he looked, the beggar moved quickly. They emerged out of the alleys into a narrow lane lined with food stands and merchants selling wares from carts. Lanterns dotted the street, illuminating the night-time gathering.

Though Kaifeng hadn’t worn his uniform, vendors still eyed him warily as he passed by. Between his size and the sword in his belt, there was a constant look of authority about him.

The ghost markets were unsanctioned gatherings that had cropped up throughout the city over the past few years. Commerce within the capital was supposed to be regulated inside official market areas, with each merchant registered and accounted for. At the ghost markets, moneylenders and pawnbrokers operated beneath the table and merchants sold wares at prices well below the market standard set by the commission. They were thus illegal, but there were so many of them that the night watch no longer cared to break them up.

“There she is,” the beggar announced.

A cluster of food stands spread out before him. Kaifeng could smell the lingering scent of hot oil and roasted nuts as he scanned the crowd. It took a moment for his usually sharp eyes to locate Mingyu. When he did, the sight of her sank in to him, coursing through every muscle and pulse point.

Her silk robe had been traded for one of coarse grass cloth which allowed her to momentarily fade into the beige-and-gray clothing around her. She was still beautiful; nothing could diminish that.

As Kaifeng started toward her, she met his eyes briefly before slipping into the alleyway. He waited before following her.

His heart was beating like a besotted fool. After they parted, Kaifeng was convinced he would have nothing more than the occasional glimpse of her from a distance. And even those would cease once Xi Lun claimed her as his prize.

Mingyu’s glance darted to each end of the alleyway. “I’ve left Madame Sun.”

“Are you not hers by law?”

She rubbed her ear nervously. “I am, but I’ve escaped. We quarreled and she tried to lock me up, but I ran. I was never anything but property to her, and Inspector Xi is the worst of wolves. Between the two of them, they’ll have me hunted down.”

“We need to get inside then, out of sight.”

“No.” Her hand slipped out of his grasp like an eel in water. “I need to go alone. I only came to warn you that you’re in danger, as well. I didn’t tell her where I was,” she added fiercely. “But somehow Madame knew. She guessed immediately that I had been with you. Xi Lun is a formidable enemy. Just...just be careful, Kaifeng.”

He ignored the ache in his chest. “You don’t trust me to help you.”

“I don’t want you to risk yourself.”

“What is your plan, then?”

“I am going to Taizhu, the historian.”

“Because he’s wealthy and an appointed official?”

“Money and power certainly have their advantages, yes,” she remarked dryly. One would never hear an apology from Lady Mingyu’s lips.

He needed to keep his emotions under control. It was important to think now, not feel.

“How did you intend to reach Taizhu’s mansion? The ward gates are closed until morning. It is also well-known that you and the old historian are friends. He is the first person I would go to if I was searching for you.”

She blew out a breath in frustration. “Then who would be the last person you would suspect, Constable?”

The answer didn’t take long to find. “Me.”

Mingyu’s crooked smile gave him all the answers he needed at the moment, but it raised even more questions. If she didn’t want his help, then why come to him first? Why was she always seeking him out?

“But Madame will expect me to go to you,” Mingyu said, her smile fading. “She knows of us. If she petitions the magistrate’s office, you’ll have no choice but to turn me in.”

“I always have a choice.” His tone remained impassive, but something twisted in his gut. He was making a choice now.

“That’s not an answer,” she replied gently.

“My answer is that you can trust me. I have another place we can go, a place no one knows of, not even Magistrate Li.”

The last time Mingyu had been a fugitive, Kaifeng had tried to hunt her down while she exploited every advantage and connection she had to evade him. Now he was the one harboring her from the law. He was a fool to offer his protection, he knew, but Mingyu could make a fool out of any man.

* * *

HE KEPT CAREFUL watch while they traveled past the walls of the East Market. Mingyu remained silent, her eyes downcast. Anyone seeing them walking side by side might have assumed they were husband and wife, their clothing marking them as common folk. Unless they happened to see her face.

Before they were even clear of the section, Mingyu needed to stop to rest her feet.

“If we hire a sedan, then we face the risk that someone can act as witness against you,” he explained as she rested against the alley wall.

“You’re putting yourself at great risk to help me. Why?”

“You know why.”

She regarded him from beneath her lashes. “Do you?”

There were shadows under her eyes and she lacked her usual grace. Yet she was still captivating. Perhaps even more so simply because she was right here, close enough to touch. Seeing her like this somehow opened his eyes to her. He didn’t have to peer through layers of jade and silk, coy looks and flirtatious smiles.

Kaifeng had never been moved by beauty. Nor feminine vulnerability. He was risking himself because he’d come to care for Mingyu. She had become more to him than a lover, more important to him than a woman who just happened to have shared his bed, yet he had so few ways to show it.

“I shouldn’t have let you go,” he confessed. He tried to say more, but couldn’t find the words.

Kaifeng had watched her walk away from him not so long ago. Not because he’d wanted to, but because he didn’t have the language to ask her to stay.

Mingyu’s expression softened as she regarded him. “I shouldn’t have left.”

The street was hardly a place to have such a personal conversation.

“We should keep moving,” he said, his tone rougher than he intended. “Can you walk?”

They had already set off again before Kaifeng realized he should have offered her his arm. Though she walked beside him, there was a chasm between them he didn’t know how to cross. Her touch would have been welcome. He found himself missing it.

The wick in his lantern had begun to burn low by the time they reached the area just beyond the northern edge of the market. A two-story building stood among a cluster of silent dwellings. He’d passed it by so many times during his morning patrol that the location was familiar even in the dark.

“Much of this area was destroyed by a fire several years ago,” Kaifeng explained as they approached the entrance.

“I remember.”

There was no lock on the door. There was no need. Once they were inside, he held his lantern high. A faint orb of light illuminated the interior, though there wasn’t much to see. It was a small room, empty, invaded with cobwebs and dust.

“This was once a tearoom, but the owners abandoned it long ago. The structure is still mostly intact.”

“How do you know of this place?” she asked, pressing closer to him.

“I purchased it.”

She turned to him in surprise. The light danced in her eyes. “You?”

He nodded, feeling an unexpected heat rising up his neck. He’d paid for it over a week ago, the day after that first kiss high up on the pavilion. The transaction had involved every coin in his possession and several rounds of heated bargaining. It wasn’t a whim fueled by a kiss up in the clouds, Kaifeng told himself. He’d considered the building a long time before that.

“I needed more permanent lodging,” he told her. “It will be safe here for now. No one knows of this place except for me. And you.”

His final words hung heavy in the air. Kaifeng had just begun to repair the building. As broken and as unwelcoming as the place seemed, it belonged to him. It felt personal to bring Mingyu there.

Mingyu ventured forward warily. Certainly this was a departure from the glowing lanterns of the Pingkang li. As humble as the tea shop was, Kaifeng would have never been able to purchase it had the entire area not been burned out and abandoned.

“There is little in the way of comfort here, but it’s shelter and it’s hidden.”

She faced him as he took her side. “Thank you, Wu Kaifeng. Thank you for everything.”

This time, she took his arm without being asked. The touch shouldn’t have affected him the way it did. Not when they’d already been joined together, man and woman, his flesh embedded deep inside her. Yet his chest tightened when her fingers came to rest at the crook of his elbow. The gesture seemed natural to Mingyu, as if she belonged beside him.

“The storeroom is damp. I found the roof above it needs repair,” he heard himself saying. They were just meaningless words, strung together. He kept talking. “There is a loft overhead. You’ll be most comfortable there.”

He used the lantern to illuminate the stairs, which creaked mercilessly with each step. Once they were safely in the loft, he hung the lantern on a hook in the wall to provide what light it could.

The area was not nearly as empty as down below. Kaifeng had stowed the collection of records he’d taken from the magistrate’s office there. Shoving everything to the corner, he unrolled a bamboo mat over the floor. “This is all I can offer in the way of hospitality.”

“I’m grateful.”

Certainly Mingyu couldn’t stay here. This was a place fit for rats and spiders, not a celebrated courtesan. When he was done with the few preparations, he turned to see Mingyu staring out the window. The paper covering had long eroded away, leaving the panes open to the night air.

“I will have to leave the city,” she murmured. “Here, I’m nothing more than somebody’s property. Either Madame Sun or some wealthy patron’s. If not Xi Lun, then someone else just like him.”

“Then why do you sound sad?”

“Because in Changan, I’m also the notorious Lady Mingyu, the great beauty and the jade temptress.”

She slanted him a knowing and sly look that warmed him. It threatened to make even a hard-hearted demon like him break a smile. She was a temptress. Those looks were finely honed instruments.

“Do you regret leaving the Lotus Palace?”

Mingyu laid her head against the window frame, statuesque in moonlight and shadow. “I had to go. I can’t seem to be as I was anymore. I don’t know why. Being Lady Mingyu had always suited me so well before, I—”

He waited for her to finish the thought, but it slipped away unheard.

“I’ll miss my sister when I go,” she added. “But Yue-ying has a good life now. I thought of running to her, but that would only upset the balance of things. Why endanger her happiness, as well?”

“The Bai mansion is the second place I would think to go to find you,” Kaifeng agreed. He was trying to introduce a touch of humor, but apparently had no talent for it.

Mingyu frowned. “I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been outside the city walls since I came to the capital. It was always at General Deng’s invitation and I didn’t see much outside of the banquets he hosted, but I’m certain there are entertainment pavilions in every city. There’s always a place for a song girl or courtesan to use her skills.”

“It sounds as if you’ve been planning your escape for a long time.”

“A dream is not a plan.” She took on a determined look. “The pleasure quarter has ruined me for the villages. I would never fit into a place like the pile of dust my sister and I came from. I wouldn’t know how to return to our family home even if I wanted to. But I can find a place for myself in any city where there’s a demand for music and poetry. I even have money. I brought it with me.” She nudged the sack she’d set down beside her. “Would you be offended if I offered you some of it in gratitude?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you would be.”

Kaifeng settled himself at the edge of the mat to invite her to sit at the opposite end, but Mingyu was not so shy. She placed herself at the center while the words continued to flow from her. “Do you know that Madame didn’t even search my room to take this stash from me? She must have known I had it, but she didn’t believe I would try to run away. All these years, I’ve always been such a sweet and willing captive.”

Somehow she managed to still appear in complete command of herself as well as the entire room. Even if the room was in an abandoned teahouse and the audience consisted of only one man.

“You should rest, Mingyu. I’ll keep watch.”

“I’m not tired.”

Mingyu was tired. He could see she was exhausted, but at the same time Mingyu vibrated with restlessness. Her eyes glowed bright with the thrill of having escaped.

Kaifeng could reach out and take her into his arms. She was all but inviting him to, but he didn’t reach for her. If he did, he would take off her clothes and make love to her. But then it would seem too much like an exchange. His protection for her willingness.

“Sleep,” he insisted, while his mind and body hungered for her. “You’ll need your strength. Tomorrow we’ll think of a plan for you to leave the city.”

She sank onto her side with feline grace, at once languid and defiant. Propping her elbow against the mat, she let her head rest on her hand.

“One night and you’ve already tired of me,” she taunted.

Her tone was accusatory, yet still seductive. He hardened with desire and a fever heated his blood. “My lady, you know that’s not true.”

Making love to Mingyu again would only confuse things even more. Despite all the praise and adoration, all the verses written in her honor, Mingyu was still an indentured servant. Now she was a fugitive and he, head constable of the county, had become her accomplice. They were in dangerous waters and he needed to keep his head clear.

With a soft murmur, deep in her throat, she let herself sink down onto the mat and closed her eyes. Her arm served as a pillow. The lantern light flickered over the room while Kaifeng sat back and let himself be tormented by her silhouette. Save for his own stubbornness, he could be lying beside her, their limbs entwined.

He leaned back against the wall and let the light ebb away into darkness.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

MINGYU DRIFTED TO SLEEP AS soon as she closed her eyes, but her troubled thoughts wouldn’t let her rest. When she opened her eyes again, the room was black. The moonlight through the window revealed only shapes in the darkness, enough for her to see that Wu Kaifeng was still upright, his back against the wall as he watched over her. When she whispered his name, there was only silence.

Had he fallen asleep like that? Sitting up and uncomfortable. His eyes were probably still open. Like some ascetic monk, Wu was intent on denying himself.

With her hands out before her, Mingyu felt her way through the darkness. The space in the loft was small and before long, she brushed against the hard muscle of his thigh. He started, but the hand that wrapped around her wrist was gentle.

“Mingyu.”

His voice was thick, slurred and heavy with sleep. During an interrogation, the deepness of it was chilling, but here, in the dark, it resonated down her spine and warmed her skin.

“Stubborn man,” she purred against his ear as she guided his hands around her waist.

“This isn’t...necessary.” His palms curved around her hips despite his protest.

“It is.” She gripped the front of his robe to urge him down onto the mat with her.

Kaifeng came awake quickly. He worked her sash loose and parted the layers of cloth without a trace of clumsiness, baring her skin to the night air. She was only chilled for a moment before his hands were on her. She loved how broad they were, spanning her body with a single touch. He took hold of her breasts, his thumbs stroking each nipple lovingly until she ached in every muscle.

With the softest of moans, she reached out to him, tugging at his clothes impatiently. If there was any argument, it was gone now. Kaifeng raised himself from her to finish undressing.

Mingyu lay back against the mat and listened to the rustle of cloth above her, the intimate sound itself a promise.

“I was hoping you would leave the city with me,” she confessed.

The rustling stilled. Kaifeng said nothing, but she heard the heavy cloth dropping to the floor a moment before he lowered his body over hers. The familiar weight of him anchored her while his shoulders blocked out the light of the stars and the moon until both of them were enfolded by darkness.

There was a new urgency in his touch. With one hand hooked beneath her knee, he parted her legs and stroked the tip of one finger over the damp part of her sex. Every muscle within her tensed and knotted. Oh, his hands were rough! Perfectly so. She could feel every ridge and callous as he touched her intimately, opening her for him. She dug her hands into his shoulders to tell him not to wait.

Her head fell back as he slid into her, the initial penetration traveling through every pressure point in her body, making her back arch and her lips part through no will of her own. She moaned with abandon as Kaifeng pushed deep into her to complete their union.

It seemed like so long ago that they had been together like this. Another lifetime.

When Kaifeng took her like this, single-mindedly, with no motive but for his pleasure and her own, she finally belonged to herself. Her body was her own and this pleasure—this pleasure was hers for the taking. If Mingyu hadn’t known this abandon with him, she might have never thought to run away. To claim more moments like it.

She closed her eyes at the sweet ache that built inside her, concentrating on the weight of Kaifeng above, anchoring her, driving harder until each thrust stole her breath away. Her flesh yielded around his and his movements created another pulse alongside the hammering of her heart.

Kaifeng crushed his mouth over hers to claim everything. She wrapped her legs around him, her thighs clasping his hips while the throb of pleasure built until she was floating, surrounded by the scent of sweat and skin and by the unending rhythm of Kaifeng over her, inside her.

Suddenly he took hold of the back of her neck and his rhythm changed, his hips grinding against her to sharpen the sensation. Demanding her release. Mingyu gasped as his organ filled her the same moment his teeth bit into her neck. She cried out incoherently as her release took her. It might have been his name she cried at the height of her climax.

Kaifeng’s own release came immediately upon hers. They clung to each other through it, his grip on her almost painful. He came in complete silence, shuddering, his entire being focused on the act.

Mingyu wished that the darkness didn’t hide them. She wanted to see his face, in that most honest and vulnerable of moments. Such openness was rare, she knew. It never lasted for long.

* * *

THEY STAYED IN each other’s arms for a long time, catching their breath, trying to find some way to fit comfortably together on the hard floor.

“You tried to devour me,” she accused, quite pleased.

“I don’t know what you speak of.”

She showed him with a sharp nip against the side of his throat.

He shifted onto his back and pulled her over him. “I have no memory of doing that.”

Kaifeng sounded contrite, perhaps irritated that she would speak of such a private, intimate thing aloud even when it was only the two of them. But she was still glowing. When one felt like this afterward, every sense alive, Mingyu could understand one’s penchant for poetry and art, and allusions to clouds and peonies and the mist falling on Tai Mountain.

Whenever she had shared a patron’s bed, she had always been aware of herself as a picture of beauty and elegance. And mating was such an inelegant thing really. With Kaifeng, it wasn’t as if she didn’t care about his enjoyment as much as she didn’t have to fear his displeasure. There was no discipline to his lovemaking. What happened simply happened and it was so very good.

“You’re squirming,” he complained as he tried to settle her into the crook of his shoulder, but she refused to be restrained.

Slipping out of his hold, she perched herself on his chest like a triumphant lioness over her kill. Below her, Wu Kaifeng sighed.

“Constable,” she began, the title being relegated to nothing more than a tease now.

“Yes?”

“You should come with me.”

“Where would we go?”

“Suzhou.”

There was a pause. “I can’t go back to Suzhou.”

He said it with cold finality. Their intimacy hadn’t bought her passage into that forbidden territory yet. Perhaps it never would.

“We could go somewhere else, then.” She sank onto his shoulder just as he’d wanted moments earlier. His arms settled around her, but somehow they didn’t seem as warm and welcoming as before. “We’ll leave the city tomorrow once the gates are open.”

“Lady Mingyu.”

His formal address did not carry the same playful intimacy that hers had.

“I think you only ask this because you want something from me,” he finished.

She stiffened. “Well, of course I want something from you. And you want something from me, as well. Isn’t that the foundation of all interaction? The fulfillment of wants and needs. The cycle of favor and debt, in this life and the next.”

Kaifeng was silent as he considered her argument. She could almost hear him thinking in the slow, steady cadence of his breath. It was so irritating; Wu Kaifeng’s strict adherence to logic and his refusal to just let some things be.

“We should sleep,” she said when he had no answer for her.

She settled onto the ground beside him, curling herself against his hard, unyielding form. He softened just a little, turning toward her and letting his hand rest over her arm. His height didn’t make a difference in the bedchamber. All men and women fit together when lying down.

She did need him, she admitted, growing all the more irritable at having to explain herself...to herself.

Mingyu needed Kaifeng with her for protection and for his knowledge of the world, but she also wanted him. She had never allowed herself to want anyone. No man should ever hold such power over her.

The two of them remained so very far apart, even now while lying here, skin to skin. Mingyu drew closer, as close as she possibly could. Kaifeng tightened his hold on her when she started trembling.

“Are you cold?”

She shook her head, but couldn’t answer. Mingyu wasn’t cold; she was frightened. Her chest constricted so tight that it hurt and she could barely breathe. She was a courtesan trained in the art of seduction, but she knew nothing beyond that. It was harder than she’d ever imagined to open her heart to someone. She didn’t even know how to begin.

* * *

WHEN THEY AWOKE the next morning, Wu faced the corner as he sorted his clothes and donned his robe. At the opposite wall, Mingyu did the same. Her peasant’s robe was simple to manage without the layers upon layers of gauze and silk she was accustomed to.

There was no talk of last night. There was certainly no talk of how last night had ended. A question without an answer.

“What is this?”

At her feet lay a stack of books and writings. She hadn’t noticed any of it in the darkness.

“Those are records of the investigation into General Deng’s murder.”

She could hear his approach behind her. Awareness traveled up her spine as he neared. “Why are they here?”

“Inspector Xi has been watching over our shoulders from the beginning. Given his now questionable involvement, I thought it best to take them out of his reach.”

“But removing public records must be a violation of the law.”

“These are my private notes. I keep them for my own purposes, to record the minute details of each interrogation and observation.”

“You must have records of me then, from the investigation last year.”

“You do seem to be the center of scandal, my lady.”

He was beside her now, his presence no longer intimidating, but formidable nonetheless. Her pulse skipped and the back of her neck grew inexplicably warm. What had he recorded from their first meeting?

She remembered disliking him from the start. His gaze had raked over her with cold scrutiny. No, it was incorrect to say that his look had been cold. He had regarded her without desire or admiration or any of the emotion she was accustomed to seeing in a man’s eyes. What she had sensed from him was something else, a sort of interest she did not recognize. For someone who had cultivated her reputation and image so carefully, it had left her unsettled.

Now there was no question of his desire for her or the intensity and fire behind it, but the rest was still a question.

“I didn’t realize there was so much detail on General Deng’s murder.”

“He was a high-ranking military official with many connections. There is great interest in the imperial court for solving this crime.”

There were at least five journals and several scrolls set neatly against the wall. She recognized the rosewood case with the orchid painting among them. No wonder the magistrate relied on him so heavily. Despite his lack of formal education, Wu was meticulous in his work. From the highest born to the low, he discounted no one as suspect.

One of the scrolls had fallen open to reveal a sketch of what looked like a man’s torso from the back. Quickly, Mingyu averted her eyes, but she couldn’t remove the image from her mind. The body was unclothed and the head conspicuously missing. That one glimpse was enough to sicken her stomach, but she forced herself to take another look. Something didn’t feel right.

“This is General Deng?” She reached down to pull at the edge of the paper, still reluctant to pick up the entire scroll. The front view of the chest and abdomen was revealed along with the back view.

“The sketch was made prior to his burial. There are those who might consider it disrespectful to record a man’s image in death.”

“You drew this yourself? While...while the general lay before you?”

“Yes.”

The hairs rose on the back of her neck. “You wouldn’t have left out any detail, perhaps considering it insignificant?”

“No. Mingyu, what are you trying to say?”

Kaifeng scowled at her, the effect of it arresting. Her stomach swam and she was suddenly light-headed, so much that it was difficult to put her thoughts together. What she was seeing was impossible.

Wu Kaifeng had drawn the corpse exactly as he’d witnessed it. There was no embellishment here, no attempt to create a particular mood or sympathy as would be seen in a work of art. No liberties of interpretation. There was a scar beneath the ribs, typical of a warrior. Another scar in the leg. Possible old spear wound, the constable had noted in small characters directly on the drawing.

“The body did not belong to General Deng.” She forced the declaration past the tightness in her throat. “He didn’t have those scars. He also had a noticeable birthmark low on his back. It would have been impossible not to notice.”

Kaifeng tensed beside her. The atmosphere in the room shifted.

“Not General Deng,” he echoed, each word like a clang of a gong splitting the morning silence.

For a moment, everything remained still. Mingyu swore that even the crickets stopped chirping. Then, Kaifeng was in motion. He crouched down and unrolled the rest of the scroll so that it lay completely open. She lowered herself beside him, steadying her hand against the floor. They were looking at another man murdered, a different sort of crime altogether. Deception. Intrigue.

“Deng’s widow identified the body as her husband’s,” he began.

“Did you show her the body unclothed?”

“It would have been improper.”

“Disrespectful,” Mingyu agreed. “Deng Furen saw what I saw, a man of General Deng’s height and stature, wearing his robe. And she was distraught.”

His frown deepened. “Someone wanted to create the illusion that Deng Zhi was dead.”

“The assassins killed the wrong man which sent Deng into hiding,” Mingyu theorized.

“Or it may be simpler than that.” Kaifeng sifted through the observations in one of his journals. “General Deng could have staged his own murder.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

NIGHT HAD BECOME day and day became night.

Kaifeng reviewed his findings. “We were searching for someone skilled with the sword who possessed a strong physique. He had to have enough training and strength as well as a fine enough weapon to remove the head in one swipe. General Deng fits that description.”

“Then who does the body belong to?”

“We switch the roles. The victim is who we assumed was the murderer. Deng’s bodyguard has been missing. It would not have been difficult for the general to order one of them to put on his clothes,” Kaifeng concluded.

“Thinking he was supposed to act as a decoy,” Mingyu finished, growing pale.

Then the general had beheaded the bodyguard himself.

He went on, “There is one person who is aware of everything that occurs in the Deng mansion, yet who claimed Deng did not summon his bodyguards the morning of his death. I need to seek out Yuan Lo.”

“The family steward?”

“I’ll find him and get the truth this time.”

“Or we can just leave those questions unanswered.” Solemnly, Mingyu rolled up his sketch of the victim. “None of this matters anymore if we leave Changan. We’ll go far away.”

“It would be madness to flee.”

“This is already madness,” she murmured, touching his arm in an innocent gesture that set his heart pounding.

Kaifeng was tempted. Of course he was tempted. Mingyu’s hair was unbound, her lips kissed free of any color. She wore nothing but the morning sun on her face and the sight of it was pure and devastating. This was the Mingyu that men longed to see beneath the silk and jewels and paint. What she truly looked like.

It was easy to reason that if he simply said yes and obliged her, then Mingyu would continue to be his the next morning and the morning after. But he had already tried to escape his past once. Sooner or later, he knew, all debts had to be paid.

“This will follow you, Mingyu. We need to resolve this now.”

She nodded, but doubt lingered in her eyes as they parted. Mingyu stayed behind in the abandoned teahouse while he left to report to the magistrate’s office. Madame Sun had not yet submitted a petition for Mingyu’s arrest. Perhaps the headmistress believed Mingyu would come to her senses and return. In any case, that bought them more time.

Mingyu had only suggested they flee together because she was desperate and needed his protection. And he was eager to give it to her. At least the part of him that was masculine and protective and wanted Mingyu enough to forget every truth he knew.

Kaifeng had been ensnared and it had nothing to do with logic or rationality or even lust. Physical desire was understandable and easily remedied. The hold that Mingyu had over him was nothing as simple as that.

He dispensed of his usual rounds to venture back to the Deng mansion. This time, he wasn’t invited, but he had no intention of entering the residence. Kaifeng found a corner across the street with a good view of the front gate and settled in to watch for Yuan Lo.

The gong sounded the Hour of the Goat. Shortly afterward, the old steward emerged and headed through the streets on foot. Kaifeng followed.

Yuan’s hair was thinning and there was a shuffle in his step that was characteristic of aching joints, a malady that came early for some. Yet he moved quickly and with purpose. Kaifeng’s height was a great advantage in this endeavor. He was able to track the steward easily even from fifty paces behind.

Yuan entered a building hidden at the very end of the alleyway. After perhaps a quarter of the hour, the steward emerged with a sack beneath his arm. Kaifeng waited until Yuan was clear of the area before approaching the door. Inside appeared to be a Taoist shrine. The altar was laid out with familiar implements: two candles still burning, a bowl of rice, an urn of incense. A ritual sword lay across it and the wall above was pasted with yellow paper talismans. Characters were inscribed onto the papers in red-and-black ink, though the writing was unintelligible.

Kaifeng made a note of the shrine location and continued on, successfully catching up to Yuan before he strayed too far. The steward darted between two shops. Behind the market area was a transport canal and Yuan disappeared over the edge. When Kaifeng reached the ditch, Yuan’s footprints remained visible in the mud below. They led into the nearby tunnel.

Climbing down the shallow embankment, Kaifeng found Yuan beneath the shadow of the tunnel, shovel in hand, digging near the base of the stone structure. He worked in the dark, with only the scant light that filtered in from above to guide him.

“Mister Yuan.”

The steward started. With a yelp, he slipped onto his knees into the mud. “The death of me,” Yuan choked out, holding up his shovel to ward off attack.

“It’s Constable Wu.”

“What are you doing here?” The steward continued to grip the shovel, though it was hardly a threat.

“You told me that Deng didn’t summon his bodyguards the morning of his death.”

“What of it?”

“He did call for his guards, at least one of them. The one that was later reported missing. His fellow bodyguards presumably left to hunt the man down for his betrayal, but he didn’t fail in his duties at all. He protected Deng Zhi with his own life. The general is still alive.”

Yuan stared at him and Kaifeng stared back. It wasn’t long before the elderly steward started shaking, not in fear, but with rage.

“He shouldn’t be alive!” Yuan Lo spat on the ground. “He’s the one that should be dead. That demon, Deng Zhi.”

“You plotted to kill the general,” Kaifeng accused.

“Of course not.” Yuan’s face twisted in grief now that his venom was spent. “I’ve served the Deng family all my life as my father did before me. I remember when Deng Zhi was born. No servant was more loyal.”

His shoulders slumped and he began to sob in defeat.

“Stand up, Mister Yuan.”

The steward obeyed and, in doing so, regained some semblance of dignity. His robe was still splattered with mud. It was embarrassing to see another man in such a state, especially when Kaifeng wasn’t even trying to break him.

“If you wish Deng dead now, why did you lie to protect him?” Kaifeng asked.

“My entire life was devoted to the family. I have no wife, no children. There was only me and my brother’s son, my nephew, Bo Yang. I took him in when his parents died, you see. Bo Yang was tall, strong. When he was of age, he enlisted in Deng’s army. Even made a name for himself. He was like a son to me. Like my own.”

He was rambling. Sometimes it was beneficial when a suspect was so willing to talk, but Yuan was quickly becoming overcome with emotion. And Kaifeng knew where this story was heading.

“Your nephew was one of Deng’s bodyguards,” Kaifeng prompted.

The steward nodded feebly. “When he disappeared, I was afraid he had taken money and turned on Deng himself. I felt such shame, but as I came to suspect Deng Zhi was still alive, I realized what had really happened. It was Deng who had killed my nephew.” His hands balled into fists. “He cut off his head so Bo Yang could not be reborn in the afterlife. It meant nothing to the general other than a way to hide from his enemies, but for my nephew it was his very soul. This is how that bastard rewards a lifetime of service.”

At the mention of the missing head, Kaifeng stared at the sack on the ground beside Yuan. It was the size of a large wine jug. “That couldn’t possibly be—”

“I paid a Taoist master to summon my nephew’s spirit.” Yuan untied the sack to reveal the clothing inside.

Kaifeng let out his breath, having expected something more grisly. Though if he had recovered the head as evidence, his investigation would have become much more straightforward.

“My nephew’s body is lying inside Deng’s tomb so I paid the daoshi to call Bo Yang’s wandering soul into his clothes so I could bury him properly. Not here,” Yuan explained as Kaifeng looked over their surroundings skeptically. “When I have an opportunity, I’ll take his things to our family plot outside the city. For now, I can’t let Deng Furen or the young lord know I’m aware of any deception.”

“How did you come to suspect?”

“Little details. Supplies were missing from the storerooms. Unusual correspondences arriving at the house. I swear there was a visitor one night. The gate was unlocked early the next morning and certain cabinets had been disturbed. Items were missing. The servants denied taking anything and some of the more superstitious ones claimed Deng’s ghost had visited. But I keep track of everything in that household, Constable. Someone had collected enough food to last for several days.”

“Does Deng’s wife know?”

“But she must! At first, I would accompany Deng Furen whenever she left the house, but lately, she goes alone.”

He was close, then. All Kaifeng had to do was track Deng’s wife and son. It was only a matter of time before they led him to General Deng.

Kaifeng addressed the steward with a grim look. “Are you dedicated to exposing the general?”

Yuan wiped his nose with his sleeve and straightened his shoulders. “Yes, Constable. I want my nephew’s death avenged.”

“Then you should remain in the household as my eyes and ears. Reveal nothing, Mister Yuan. This can be very dangerous for you.”

“Servants are nothing but discreet,” Yuan assured. He looked grimly at the pile of clothes. “I’ve served the Deng family all my life. One thing I know for certain is the general does not hesitate to execute anyone who stands in his way. Even the most loyal of servants will not be spared.”

* * *

AFTER RELEASING THE steward, Kaifeng returned to the judicial compound intending to report his findings to Magistrate Li. However, the sound of voices within Li’s office brought him to a halt.

Inspector Xi Lun. Always Inspector Xi Lun.

The censor was in conversation with the magistrate and Kaifeng could make out other voices within the room. Not one to eavesdrop, Kaifeng retreated to the outer chamber where a clerk sat at his desk sorting through records of the day’s proceedings.

“Tell the magistrate I will be at the Golden Flower Tavern this evening. I will save a jug of ale for him.”

The clerk nodded perfunctorily and returned to his reports. Kaifeng trusted his message would be relayed. He and the magistrate were known to discuss cases with one another at the tavern.

With the day’s business concluded momentarily, Kaifeng returned to the teahouse. It was the same modest building: worn down, charred, broken, but somehow it didn’t seem as dilapidated as he approached it now. Because Mingyu was there, waiting. His chest hitched with anticipation, but when he stepped through the doors, the interior was as silent as ever.

Panic gripped him, but the door to the back was open. Mingyu sat on one of the large stones outside in what had once been a garden. Her knees were pulled up so that her arms could rest upon them. The pose made her appear younger than her age, but then Kaifeng realized he didn’t know Mingyu’s age. Her beauty and sophistication lent her a timeless quality.

“This must have been a tranquil place to have tea in the mornings,” she said in a wistful tone when he stepped outside. “The sun would rise just over the rooftops there. And you can see it setting right now on the opposite side.”

The setting sun cast an orange glow over her face, warming her skin. Her presence momentarily banished the weeds that overran the garden.

She met his eyes. “You’re staring.”

“I still don’t believe you’re here.”

Mingyu smiled at him, her eyes glowing with humor and he felt himself being drawn into the vision she created. She moved aside to allow room for him on the boulder and her shoulder brushed against his as he sat. The world outside receded as he came to her, but he couldn’t be rid of its troubles completely.

“There was no warrant issued for your arrest,” he began.

She angled a cross look at him. “You should at least try to ease into a conversation, Constable.”

“Mingyu, you know we don’t have time—”

She sighed. “I know. But sometimes, don’t you ever wish...”

Her voice trailed away. She was looking at him so intently he wanted to be whatever it was she was searching for, but it was futile.

“What did you discover?” There was resignation in her voice when she continued.

“I spoke to Deng’s steward once again. The body that you found was likely Yuan Lo’s nephew.” He related what the steward had told him.

“Knowing that makes the death even worse.” She shook her head, her eyes dark with sorrow. “Deng had made so many enemies. Even though I was saddened by his death, I wasn’t surprised he met his end in that way.”

“Who is the one foe that Deng fears the most?”

“The Emperor,” she replied without hesitation.

“I think that is who Deng is hiding from.”

“But how does he come back from the dead? He’s removed himself from everything—his position in the bureaucracy, his official command.”

“This is an endgame ploy. He can’t turn back now.”

Her expression darkened. “You’re speaking of rebellion.”

“For years, Deng had been building his own army. He claimed that he sought to protect the empire against other warlords gaining power. But now that a new Emperor has taken the throne, he’s become the threat.”

Mingyu listened patiently as he laid out his theory. He was so caught up in it that he didn’t notice how quickly the sky was getting dark. He heard a low rumble and Mingyu pressed a hand to her stomach.

“Have you eaten?” he asked.

The corner of her mouth lifted. “Not yet. I’m a fugitive in hiding, remember?”

He was lower than a dog. “I’m sorry for that. I’ll be back shortly.”

Kaifeng headed back out to the streets, ashamed at his neglect. He knew nothing of being a proper host. He knew even less about being properly attentive to a lady like Mingyu.

There was a food stand one lane over selling bowls of stew. He stacked two bowls onto a tray and procured a flask of wine at the shop at the corner. By the time he returned, the veranda had been swept and a sitting area laid out with a bamboo mat. The paper lantern he’d brought from the night before was hanging from the eaves. The small flicker of light beckoned him forward.

“You must become absorbed in your investigations and forget to eat often.” Mingyu appeared to take the tray from his hands. “That would explain why you’re getting so thin.”

She set the tray down and rearranged the items onto the mat with an expert hand.

“I’m not that thin. It’s only my height,” he started to explain, before realizing that she was teasing him again.

“We can eat with a view of the garden.” She made a graceful gesture to invite him to sit.

He sank down cross-legged on the mat while she knelt opposite him, somehow still appearing elegant. Mingyu busied herself with serving the wine, handing the cup to him with both hands as if they were sitting at a banquet on embroidered pillows.

After the first few moments of discomfort, Kaifeng felt himself relaxing in her presence. Mingyu had a way of putting him at ease through small gestures and courtesies. A sly glance there, a nod here. A man could quite easily become spoiled by this.

The stew was a thick mixture of lamb and goose cooked with garlic and root vegetables. He waited for Mingyu to begin eating; he had at least that much in the way of manners. She dipped her spoon and took her first mouthful.

“It’s good,” she murmured.

The taste of it was rich was spices. Far better fare than Kaifeng usually had for himself. They ate in silence for most of the meal, but he spied Mingyu watching him when the stew was nearly finished.

“It would be nice to stay here,” she said simply.

“Here in Changan.” Because she couldn’t possibly mean here, with him.

“But I could only remain in Changan as Mingyu, a courtesan of the Lotus Palace.”

“Did you really find that so objectionable?”

“Of course I did. I...I was trapped there.”

He gave her a hard look. “I’ve watched you enter a banquet hall and seen the way you command attention from everyone present.”

That immediately raised her defenses. “I ran away from the Lotus, didn’t I?”

“You have objections to Xi Lun trying to lay claim to you. Before that, you resisted General Deng’s claim. I think you must have come to me because I’m the only man who absolutely cannot claim you.”

Mingyu had been soft and pleasing until that point, but in the next moment she became another Mingyu, one that was much harder, sharper. “What was last night, then?”

She was ruthless. He went hard at the memory, despite the impending argument.

“Last night was more about you laying claim to me,” he pointed out.

It was always that way with Mingyu. Every time she appeared to surrender, it was anything but that. They faced off now, desire heating his blood and his muscles tense as he fought against it.

“You’re only fooling yourself that you want to be free,” he pressed on. “What you really want is power. You can’t bear to be under anyone’s command. That is why you came to me.”

Kaifeng could see how men became ensnared within her presence. There was no obvious seduction. She had gradually reeled him in, not in soft words and touches, but by revealing herself in small glimpses. A continuous mystery. And Wu Kaifeng could remain indifferent to beauty, but not to a riddle that demanded to be solved.

“You are mistaken, Kaifeng. I’ve dreamed of earning my own freedom since the day I arrived in Changan.”

“General Deng provided you the opportunity to leave the Pingkang li as his concubine, but you refused. Your sister married into one of the most influential families in the capital. How is it possible that Lord Bai couldn’t come to some agreement with Madame Sun to free you? Any number of your wealthy patrons must be willing to redeem you if you were but to ask.”

“Such security comes with a price. Freedom is not as easily attainable as one might think,” she bit out. “It’s easy for a man to mistake the two.”

Perhaps security wasn’t freedom, but he’d seen how resourceful Mingyu was when she set her mind to something. She wasn’t working toward either.

“You’re afraid to set foot outside these city walls. You’re afraid every time you leave the Lotus.”

Mingyu averted her eyes and concentrated on taking a few more bites of her stew. She reached for her wine cup next and took a sip, each movement measured. Kaifeng considered that this was her way of dismissing him without dismissing him, but when she spoke next, her voice was barely there.

“Is it so hard for you to believe that I might choose you?” she asked quietly. “You insist on knowing my every motive and reason, but have you found the answers to your own questions yet?”

He searched inside himself, but came up empty-handed. “After all the offers you have had from your gentlemen-scholars, are you saying you would rather walk through the city gates with Wu Kaifeng at your side?”

“I would walk through those gates with or without you.”

Mingyu regarded him unwaveringly. He didn’t have the words to express to her how much he wanted to go with her, despite his duties in the capital, despite all reason and logic. But to what end?

“There is no sense to you and me.” Though it pained him to do so, he continued. “It would not end well. It shouldn’t even begin.”

Her shoulders sank. “There is nothing I can say to convince you to go with me, is there?”

It would be easy to ignore his instincts and become utterly devoted to Mingyu. He had spent every coin in his purse that evening for her and had done so happily. Men wanted to please Mingyu. In that respect, he was like any other man. He longed for her acceptance and her admiration, but he also wanted more. Even if it was impossible.

“The only place we fit is in darkness,” he said.

They had clung together naked in the forgotten time between dusk and dawn when the rest of the world closed its eyes. But there had always been an unspoken desperation to their joining that he couldn’t ignore.

She bowed her head, eyes closed. Kaifeng couldn’t tell if it was in defeat or merely Mingyu gathering her strength for a renewed attack.

The city gong sounded the Hour of the Rooster and her eyes opened. The tenth gong faded away and the silence that remained was rife with tension.

“I have to go,” he said.

He rose and Mingyu stood with him, concern etched in her brow. “What is so important that it requires your immediate attention?”

“Magistrate Li needs to know about our recent discoveries.”

“Are you certain you can trust him?”

“Li Yen is a—” He meant to say “friend,” but it wasn’t quite the right word. “Li is an honest man. I know this to be true from experience.”

“But there’s more involved here than a single murder,” she protested. “People are watching this case. Powerful people.”

“I’ll be discreet. You can trust in that,” he promised.

Mingyu didn’t offer any further argument, but from the stubborn set of her jaw, he could tell she wasn’t happy with the turn of events.

He left her in the garden and strode through the main room of the teahouse, his footsteps loud in the empty space. It wasn’t until he reached the street outside that he heard Mingyu behind him.

“Kaifeng.” She was in the doorway, cast in shadow. “Be careful, Kaifeng.”

He had dreamed about Mingyu for a long time, this woman who had always been out of his grasp. Yet she was here, looking at him with such concern. It should have warmed him, made him feel as if he owned the world, but Mingyu’s presence was like a pearl within an oyster. He was unable to be at ease with it. No matter how beautiful, luminous and precious she was, she didn’t belong here with him.

“I’ll return as soon as I can,” he told her, wishing instead that he could reassure her. Wanting very much to make all the promises she needed to hear.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

THE LANTERNS WERE lit around the door of the tavern and a low hum of conversation from inside indicated that the evening crowd had already begun to gather. As Kaifeng approached, an official in a dark robe emerged from the establishment and stood at the threshold to wait for him.

It wasn’t Magistrate Li.

“Constable Wu.” Xi Lun stood with his hands clasped behind him. “Where is Lady Mingyu?”

Several figures emerged from the shadows to surround him. Kaifeng noted immediately that they were imperial soldiers rather than city guards.

“I cannot say,” he replied calmly.

Inspector Xi’s gaze bore into him as he approached. “Do not involve yourself in matters that are beyond your reach. I will ask once more. Where is she?”

Kaifeng shook his head. That would have to suffice as his answer.

“Surrender your sword,” Xi demanded.

The men surrounding him edged in closer.

Unsheathing a weapon before a ranked official could be construed as a threat. Without a word of protest, Kaifeng undid his sword belt and held it out. The soldiers were quick to relinquish him of his weapon, but they left him free otherwise.

“Walk,” the inspector commanded. “Let’s see where you’ve been hiding.”

His stomach sank as Xi Lun led him directly back to the teahouse. He had only left Mingyu an hour earlier and they hadn’t parted well. The windows were dark and he prayed that he had somehow upset her enough that she did leave, because if she was still inside, there was nowhere for her to hide. Kaifeng stilled his thoughts and forced himself to remain calm.

Inspector Xi halted before the front doors and directed his men inside to search the premises. Kaifeng was left with Xi Lun beside him. Footsteps pounded through the building as he waited for the inevitable.

“You seem to take great pride in your work, Constable. I take pride in mine, as well.”

Kaifeng remained quiet. He knew this game: say nothing, reveal nothing.

“The recent purchase of this property was registered in your name at the records office. I looked into your past, as well. A few years ago, you petitioned a magistrate in Suzhou province for the reversal of a sentence. I can tell you how rarely a petition like that is ever granted, but it was a valiant effort on your part. I became intrigued with the case surrounding it. Quite dramatic, one involving a physician who killed one of his patients?”

Kaifeng ground his teeth together. “So the record states.”

“There are some other interesting details that were harder to find. I had to have my men interview the parties involved—at least the ones who were still alive. There was one mysterious death that occurred immediately before you left Suzhou. The very same man who had brought charges against your foster father. The magistrate launched an inquiry, but his findings were inconclusive. I wonder if Li Yen was aware of these details before hiring you as his trusted constable.”

Every muscle in him tensed as the instinct to flee took over. “I commend you for your dedication to gathering information, Inspector,” Kaifeng replied calmly, despite the turmoil inside him.

“I believe in knowing your enemies,” the inspector remarked with a smugness that made Kaifeng wish for his sword back.

His past had been buried at the other end of the empire, difficult, but not impossible to uncover. Xi Lun had indeed taken a special interest in him.

The footsteps in the building fell silent. The soldiers returned shortly to report the building empty. Inspector Xi directed a venomous look his way which Kaifeng met with a stare that was as blank as he could manage.

Mingyu had been clever enough to escape. He could breathe again.

An array of lanterns illuminated the interior as they entered. Xi passed quickly through the main room and climbed up the stairs. Kaifeng had little choice but to follow him.

Up in the loft, Inspector Xi paused in front of the stack of drawings and journals. His gaze fixed onto the rosewood case that Mingyu had brought, the one that contained her orchid painting.

Xi Lun lifted the lid to stare at the scroll inside, not touching or opening the paper. If his look was cold before, it froze over now. Carefully, he replaced the lid and when he spoke the effect was eerily calm.

“Constable, where is Mingyu?”

“I do not know.” And this time, it was the truth.

Xi nodded, almost pleasantly. “Guardsmen, prepare the chains. Head Constable Wu Kaifeng is under arrest, by the authority of the Palace Bureau.”

* * *

IRON LINKS WEIGHED down his wrists and dragged over the floor between his ankles. Kaifeng had gone down the long corridor to the holding cells many times before, but never as the one in chains.

His fellow constables watched the silent procession, but did nothing. Like him, they were the lowest of hirelings, without a say or a voice. Magistrate Li was nowhere to be seen.

The inspector had brought his own set of minions to do his bidding. The magistrate’s compound had been taken over by a new authority. Inside the interrogation room, Xi Lun had the chains attached to a hook that dangled from the ceiling. Kaifeng’s arms were locked overhead, his back and torso exposed.

“Wu Kaifeng, you have withheld information from this investigation.”

Xi stood not five paces away as he made his accusations. In the corner, a scribe inked every word into the record book. Everything was executed properly, according to official code and procedure.

“As of yesterday, you have been hiding a fugitive from the authorities, violating the law.”

“There is no warrant for Mingyu’s arrest,” he argued.

The inspector stopped in front of him and held out a notice. “There is now.”

Xi began to read from it, in a louder than necessary voice that echoed off the walls. “This decree calls for the arrest of Lady Sun Mingyu, suspected of aiding in the wrongful death of General Deng Zhi.”

Kaifeng straightened abruptly. The chains rattled with the movement and blood rushed to his ears. This was not a warrant for a runaway servant. Xi Lun was having Mingyu arrested for murder.

“You were aware of the courtesan Mingyu’s involvement, yet you hid critical details from the record books, thus hindering the investigation. This makes you equally guilty.” Inspector Xi stepped closer, his face a mere finger’s width away. “You are also guilty of abuse of power, Constable. What little power you have.”

Anger was a sign of weakness. So was fear. Kaifeng breathed deep to keep both at bay.

“Where is she?” Xi demanded.

Kaifeng shook his head.

The inspector signaled for his interrogator to bring the light bamboo rod. Apparently, Xi didn’t put much effort into the questioning process before resorting to more heavy-handed methods.

“Ten,” he instructed.

Inspector Xi looked directly into Kaifeng’s eyes before stepping aside.

The first blow stung between his shoulder blades. Kaifeng exhaled sharply. The next one cracked against his ribs. This was pain, his mind told him. Pain not damage. He gritted his teeth and breathed through the remaining blows. Thankful, for once, for the veil. For the haze that separated him.

He tried not to think of Mingyu.

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know.”

“Heavy rod.”

Not much effort at all.

Kaifeng could hear footsteps behind him as the minion went to retrieve the new implement. He knew of all the interrogation methods available according to the law. The light rod, the heavy rod, the scourge, the whip. It wouldn’t matter because Kaifeng still would not know where Mingyu was.

“Was she worth it?”

Xi Lun’s sneer cut through his ruminations. Kaifeng could hear the bastard, but he couldn’t see him. The inspector’s voice came from just to the left, just behind his ear.

The next blow struck him in the back of his legs, jarring through muscle and bone. If it had been aimed at his knee, it might have broken it. They could break his hands, if required. His legs, as well. The law allowed it. The blow after that took him off his feet. Iron manacles cut into his wrists as he staggered.

“Do you know she hated you?”

Xi was talking again. Kaifeng didn’t know what was worse, the beating or the taunting.

“Mingyu resented how you treated her. She made mention of it publicly, how you were a brute. A cold, unfeeling creature. Incompetent. Just a few words spoken to the right people. Why do you think the Ministry of Personnel wanted you dismissed? Why would high-ranking officials even care about a lower than dirt constable?”

Kaifeng shook his head, trying to keep the words out, but it was too late. He’d taken them inside and knew them to be true.

“She played you.” Inspector Xi came around to face him once more. His face was twisted with hatred. “She plays everyone.”

Kaifeng spoke slowly, forming all of his defiance into a few short words. “Deng Zhi is not dead.”

Xi stared at him, his face unreadable.

“The body did not belong to General Deng. Mingyu cannot be guilty of causing his death.”

Kaifeng might as well have told the inspector that the sun rose in the east.

The beating resumed, the heavy rod striking Kaifeng’s legs, his arms, shoulders. He no longer had the strength to grit his teeth and fight through it. His body was made of nothing but pain.

It didn’t matter because this wasn’t an interrogation. This was revenge because Kaifeng had tasted something that Xi Lun coveted. He had briefly possessed a woman that powerful men could only long for.

Kaifeng tried very hard not to think of Mingyu as the beating continued. Because she was the one thing he found undeniably beautiful, and this was ugly.

He had come to feel deeply for her. She would never feel the same, but he cared for her, anyway. When this was over, he hoped he could still feel this way.

Even if she had brought this upon him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

THE ALLEYWAYS WERE ominous and unwelcoming in the nighttime. Never had Changan seemed so vast. Never had Mingyu been so lost and aimless within it, except for when she’d first set foot onto the river dock and was dragged away to be sold so many years ago.

Earlier that evening she had been lucky to sight the patrol from the second floor of the teahouse. The lanterns had snaked forward in a line toward her and she’d known there was trouble. Something had happened to Kaifeng and these men were coming for her. Grabbing her satchel, she’d darted down the stairs and out to the garden in back.

Where she’d been trapped.

The garden was surrounded by a wooden fence and she’d searched for anything that she could use to climb over. The boulders set in the center were too heavy to lift and there was no furniture inside the ruined building.

One small bit of good fortune had found her. A section of the fence had been broken away. On her hands and knees, Mingyu had shoved her pack through to the other side and pressed herself to the ground to try to fit through. The ragged planks had scraped her through her robe.

Flattening herself, Mingyu had shoved through the opening, clawing forward with her hands in the dirt. Her heart had pounded harder than it ever had. It would have been a spectacle to be caught like that, burrowing like a bamboo rat.

Something had caught against her robe. With one valiant tug, she’d finally pulled free amid the sound of ripping cloth and struggled to her feet.

Now those same feet carried Mingyu down the alleyways and around a dark corner, where she found a Taoist shrine. After composing herself as much as possible, she rang the bell and begged for shelter from the priestess who answered. Thankfully she was allowed inside, covered in dust and bedraggled as she was.

The only light was from an oil lamp the elder woman held in her hand. Mingyu followed her through the altar room where a Taoist bagua symbol hung over a pot of smoldering incense.

“Have you been hurt, child?”

Mingyu shook her head, words failing her. Her hair had pulled loose from its knot and she could feel the tangle of it against her scalp.

“I just need a place for the night, mistress,” she finally managed.

She was led to a back room where the disciples were settling in for the night. They stirred at her intrusion, but settled back quickly.

Mingyu positioned herself into the corner, clutching her satchel to her breast. The lamp was extinguished shortly afterward, leaving the room in darkness.

With deep breaths, she tried to calm her heart. The ward was crowded with houses and shops and temples. The patrol wouldn’t be able to find her. They couldn’t. They would have to search every building. Hardly worth it for a runaway servant, even one who was a trained courtesan.

Mingyu hoped Kaifeng hadn’t met with any danger. He was tough and more intelligent than the rest of them, she was certain of it. She also prayed from the deepest part of her soul that she hadn’t dragged him into ruin with her.

There was only one place left for her to go, but she wouldn’t be able to stay there long. She would have to leave Changan quickly and throw her fate to the open road.

Curling herself up tight, Mingyu closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.

So this was freedom.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING, Mingyu was up before the sun. Before the inhabitants of the shrine had even risen. She found a basin of water in the kitchen to wash her face and attempted to straighten her appearance. She could do nothing about the tear in the back of her robe.

She left a tael of silver upon the altar as a sign of gratitude before slipping out onto the streets. Perhaps she should have left more, but she didn’t know how much she would need while in hiding.

In bright daylight, the streets appeared completely different from the tangled maze she’d stumbled through last night. Mingyu easily found her way to the main gate that led out of the ward. Laborers and merchants were already assembled with their carts as they waited for the passage to open. Keeping her head low, Mingyu lost herself among the crowd.

The gates opened at the prescribed hour and the guards paid no particular attention as the masses shuffled by. Mingyu was able to pass through unmolested. The city would hide her. Outside of the Three Lanes, she was no one. There was no Lady Mingyu.

Out on the main road, she was able to hire a carriage to take her the rest of the way to the northern part of the city. She wondered if Madame Sun would dare to search her out among the elite of the scholar-gentry. This was scandal of the worst sort: The Lotus Palace’s most famous courtesan had run away.

As the carriage approached the vicinity of the Bai mansion, Mingyu paid the driver and continued on foot. She knew Yue-ying would take her in, but how could she approach her sister’s new family in a way that wouldn’t cause Yue-ying trouble? Especially looking as she did now, like a vagabond from the streets.

The old maidservant who answered the front gate looked her up and down.

“What are you doing here so early, Miss?”

“I am looking for my sister. Please, Auntie, there is something I need to tell her.”

The woman frowned, but said nothing as she ducked back into the house. At least the servant recognized her. And at least the woman addressed her with some respect. Mingyu had only visited her sister a few times since the wedding. Though Yue-ying was now part of the Bai family, this certainly didn’t mean Mingyu was welcome to come by unannounced.

It was a long time before the gate opened again, but once it did, a familiar face appeared. Bai Huang’s sister Wei-wei greeted her in a plain house robe with her hair tied back in a simple knot.

“How rude of us to keep you in the street like that. Forgive us, Miss Mingyu.” Wei-wei took hold of Mingyu by the arm and drew her into the courtyard. “Our servants should know that you’re always welcome.”

The old maidservant remained in the doorway of the main building, watching Mingyu warily.

“What brings you here so early in the morning?” Wei-wei’s gaze swept over her. The young noblewoman didn’t remark on her torn clothing or disheveled appearance until they entered a more private section of the garden where there were no servants present.

Wei-wei dropped her voice even though they were alone. “What happened to you?”

“Is Yue-ying awake?”

“She’s coming. Are you in danger?”

Wei-wei was staring at her with wide eyes filled with as much excitement as concern.

Mingyu brushed a stray hair away from her face. “It’s nothing. Nothing serious.”

It was going to be impossible to convince Wei-wei that this was just a routine visit looking the way she did. She was relieved of having to answer when Yue-ying emerged from the inner chambers. There was a worried look on her face.

Mingyu hurried to Yue-ying and took hold of her hands, squeezing them tight. “I’ve left the Lotus Palace, Little Sister.”

“Like we always said we would,” Yue-ying murmured softly.

“Madame Sun is looking for me. I can’t stay here long.”

“Aiya, don’t either of you know how to whisper?” Wei-wei admonished. She ushered them both into the house and shut them inside a room that Mingyu assumed was her bedchamber. “I’ll have to go and convince the servants that there is nothing amiss. But first tell me—” She looked from one to the other of the two of them, her eyes bright. “What scandal is this here?”

“No scandal,” Mingyu said, wearily. “But it would be wise to make sure the servants know this is nothing but a visit from one sister to another.”

Wei-wei hurried off to do exactly that. When Mingyu turned back to Yue-ying, there was a look of concern on her sister’s face, as if she’d suddenly become the older sibling.

“Where will you go, Sister?”

Mingyu took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I don’t know.”

It was true they had spoken often of leaving and starting a new life somewhere else, but it had been nothing but talk. Dreams. They had been brought to the capital when they were little more than children and knew of nothing outside the walls of the city.

“You can’t go. Not like this,” Yue-ying insisted. “I’ll speak to Huang. We’ll make an offer to Madame Sun. She can’t keep you if you don’t want to stay.”

“She can and she will. Madame owns me by law. And even if she is pressured to settle, she can extort a cutthroat price. Two thousand, three thousand, ten thousand in silver. What am I to the Bai family? I can’t owe them that, even if they were willing to pay.”

“But, Mingyu, to just run away like this! How will we ever find one another again?” Yue-ying pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, trapping a sob inside.

The rush of emotion caught Mingyu off guard. She rarely saw her sister in tears. Of the two of them, Yue-ying had endured so much more hardship and heartache. She deserved her happiness, unburdened by an older sister who always attracted attention and scandal.

“I will be fine,” Mingyu soothed. “Remember all the money we hid away? I have it with me. Once I find a safe place, I’ll write to you.”

It wasn’t all lies. She would try her best to make it true, even though she didn’t know what would happen once she left the capital. Especially now that Kaifeng wouldn’t be with her. She had hoped he would change his mind, but the decision was out of her hands.

Mingyu straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin. All the things she needed to do to show Yue-ying that there was nothing to worry about.

“Before I go, there are a few matters I must see to. Forgive me, but I will need to ask a favor from your husband.”

Mingyu had innocently, ignorantly hoped she wouldn’t have to manipulate her own sister’s marriage to her advantage.

Yue-ying looked confused. “Huang left for the records office this morning. He won’t be back until this evening, but we might be able to summon him if this is important. He’s always complaining how menial his position is.”

“This is important,” Mingyu confirmed.

Bai Huang’s appointment might be a minor one, but his family name was still respected. The young Lord Bai would be able to inquire at the magistrate’s office about Kaifeng. He might even be able to arrange for her to leave Changan.

“We’ll send Zhou Dan for him,” Yue-ying said.

“I’ll go with him.” Wei-wei returned and inserted herself seamlessly back into the conversation. “The bureaucrats might ignore a servant like Zhou Dan, but surely they won’t deny Huang’s own sister. I’ll explain this is a family matter.”

They all agreed it was the best course of action and Wei-wei set out to arrange the carriage.

“One final thing,” Wei-wei piped up at the door. “Mother is still asleep. She usually wakes up around the Snake Hour. You should not be wearing—” she made a circling motion that encompassed Mingyu “—that outfit when you greet her.”

Once Wei-wei was gone, there was silence between them.

“She is your sister now,” Mingyu said quietly, her heart squeezing painfully.

Yue-ying bit down on her bottom lip. “No. No, she’s not.”

“You’ll be fine, Yue-ying. I know you will.”

“But will you be?”

“Of course I will,” Mingyu said, with a reassuring smile.

Lies. More lies.

For as long as they could remember, they only had each other. Every month, Mingyu looked forward to seeing her sister and would be sad for days once the visit was over. She had hoped that within the next year, she would hold Yue-ying’s first child in her arms, a niece or a nephew.

The lure of returning to the Lotus Palace was so strong it frightened her. Everything she knew was in Changan.

It wasn’t too late. Mingyu could turn back that very moment. She could apologize sweetly to Madame Sun and suffer little more than a few harsh words. Her life in the Pingkang li was comfortable, glamorous even.

But how long would it be before Mingyu found herself sold off to Xi Lun? And if not him, then some other master? Her sun was setting. Better to decide her own fate.

The prospect of leaving had been less frightening when Wu Kaifeng was by her side. There was something between them, something more than the stolen glances and chance meetings that had nothing to do with chance.

If she left now without him, would he look for her? Or would he forget?

They were more than lovers, her heart insisted. She could feel it in her soul. Kaifeng knew her better than anyone else. In some ways, he saw her more clearly than even Yue-ying. So maybe he was right about her. Mingyu was merely afraid of taking that first step alone.

* * *

BY THE TIME Wei-wei returned with her brother, Mingyu had had a chance to wash and make herself more presentable. Yue-ying lent her a silk robe and helped style her hair. There was no denying that being dressed and powdered and pinned made Mingyu feel powerful. The softest of silks served as the thickest of armors.

The two sisters stood as soon as Bai Huang entered the sitting room. His sense of style had become much more understated since his marriage. Along with his state robe, he wore a serious expression.

Yue-ying hurried over to her husband and began speaking rapidly. A heated discussion ensued, though in hushed tones. Mingyu didn’t need to hear the words to guess what was being said.

“Don’t let my sister convince you, Lord Bai.”

Bai Huang looked up from the conversation.

“A collator from the imperial records office can neither afford the gossip, nor the monetary debt of redeeming me. And he has his new wife to think of.”

His lips twitched. “Assistant collator,” he corrected.

Yue-ying scowled.

Bai Huang stepped toward Mingyu, all trace of humor gone. “I knew immediately what must have happened when Wei-wei came to find me. Do you know there’s already talk of you throughout the quarter? Wu Kaifeng has been arrested.”

“Arrested? Why would the magistrate go to such lengths for a broken bond?”

Mingyu knew there was something very wrong even before Bai Huang shook his head.

“The warrant for you isn’t for running away, Mingyu. It’s for murder.”

The air rushed out of her. “Impossible.”

“And conspiracy in the death of General Deng Zhi. The fact that you fled the Lotus Palace makes it look even worse for you. The Censorate has taken over the investigation. Constable Wu is being held for interrogation.”

She staggered back as if someone had stricken her. How had it come to this?

Yue-ying was immediately at her side. “But we’ll help you, Mingyu. We’ll find some way, won’t we?” She looked to Bai Huang for reassurance, but he had none to give. Distraught, she turned back to Mingyu. “You can’t leave now.”

A strange calm came over her. “You’re right. I can’t.” Mingyu straightened and placed her hand over her sister’s. “If I may speak to your husband privately?”

Yue-ying exchanged a glance with Bai Huang. He gave her a nod and something unspoken passed between husband and wife.

Mingyu waited until her sister left before speaking. “You said the Censorate had taken over the investigation. Is the man in charge Inspector Xi Lun?”

“The name sounds familiar. It could be him.”

“Xi Lun has been visiting me at the Lotus. He’s obsessed with me, Lord Bai. This is not about the investigation. Xi Lun has his own personal schemes.”

“That’s impossible to prove, whereas your actions appear very suspicious. You were intimately associated with the general. You were found with the body.”

“That doesn’t matter right now. Xi Lun has wrongly imprisoned Wu Kaifeng. You have to get him released before the inspector takes his revenge out on him.”

Bai Huang frowned at her. “Constable Wu? Why are you worried about him? I thought you hated Wu after all he did to you.”

Xi Lun’s interest in Kaifeng had disturbed her. He had assumed that she and Kaifeng were enemies, but what if the inspector had discovered the truth? She had no doubt Xi was a jealous man. He claimed to have hated General Deng.

Her heart raced. There were all manner of brutal acts that fell under the realm of “interrogation” and Kaifeng would be completely at the inspector’s mercy. The thought sickened her.

“You must free Constable Wu,” she pleaded. “He’s been dragged into this wrongfully. He tried to help me.”

“Unfortunately Xi Lun is one of the Emperor’s favorites. He’s a valued member of the Palace Bureau and he has the Emperor’s ear.” Bai Huang scrubbed a hand over his chin, his look as serious as she’d ever seen it. “You have to surrender yourself to the magistrate. I know this is difficult,” he quickly added when she started to protest. “And I know it’s a risk, but Li Yen is an upstanding official. He follows code to the very line and character. Wu’s interrogation under torture will stop once you’ve surrendered. I’ll petition that you’re kept under house arrest with me. It will take time after that to secure the constable’s release, but there’s a good chance we can get it done.”

As Mingyu listened to Bai Huang’s plan and the confident manner with which he laid it out, something occurred to her. Something she had never considered until this moment.

“I think you underestimate your capabilities, Lord Bai.”

“This is the best I can offer.”

“I won’t fall into Xi Lun’s hands. That’s what he wants. You’re going to get Wu Kaifeng released. I don’t know how, but I know you can find a way.”

Mingyu hesitated. Her idea was so far-fetched, so inconceivable.

Bai Huang waited expectantly for her to continue. He was handsome, beautiful even. Well-educated and of aristocratic birth. He had a way with words and with people, yet he’d managed to trick everyone into thinking the opposite—that he was a worthless fool.

“I believe you have more authority than anyone knows,” she ventured.

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

Oh, but she could see by the flicker in his eyes that he did understand.

“Yue-ying doesn’t even know, does she? Your own wife.”

“Now, Elder Sister...”

“There is a popular tale circulating through the tearooms right now. One about Emperor Xuānzong. Rather than being godlike, as an Emperor should be, he was never much to look at. When he was prince, he was incredibly shy and had difficulty speaking. Why, it’s said that the palace eunuchs only propped him up as Emperor because they thought he would be easy to control.”

Mingyu watched Bai Huang carefully as she wove her tale. He was actually quite good at masking his thoughts behind a blank and confused expression, but she knew Yue-ying. Her sister would never fall for a fool.

“Amazingly, once Xuānzong was on the throne, he surprised everyone in court with his thoughtful manner. Especially when it came to promoting and appointing officials. He seemed to know everyone’s strengths and weaknesses in great detail. It was rumored the Emperor had spent some time in the scholars’ quarter in disguise among the candidates. And when the palace exams were administered, he scored and selected the top rank himself.”

“That’s a good story,” Bai Huang remarked, clearing his throat.

“You ranked in the top third of that exam.”

“Such good fortune—”

“You know details that should be privileged—Xi Lun’s name and position and how the Emperor favors him.”

He shrugged. “One hears things.”

“You’re not an assistant collator in the records office.” Mingyu wanted to stab her finger into his chest, he was such an impostor. “You were recruited into the Censorate, weren’t you? You’re spying for the Emperor.”

“Now, Mingyu.” He made a motion with his hand, urging her to lower her voice. “That’s a fascinating story and one that I feel would be quite amusing when told over wine.”

She would not be stopped. “You were always interested in General Deng. You suspected for a long time that he might be a traitor and a threat to the state. Perhaps you were right all along. Help me, Lord Bai, and I’ll help you.”

Now he turned serious. “How can you help me?”

“With exactly what you need—information.

“General Deng is not dead. He faked his own assassination.” She took a deep breath. There was so much at stake here; a question of broken confidences and where her loyalties truly lie. “Release Wu Kaifeng and I will do everything in my power to help hunt Deng Zhi down. I swear to it.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

HE WAS LYING on the floor with his face pressed against the packed dirt. Kaifeng shifted, trying to find a position where his muscles didn’t throb, but there was none. He settled on moving as little as possible.

Footsteps came, accompanied by the creak of the cell door. He opened one eye to stare at a pair of boots.

“You’ve been released, Wu.”

The voice didn’t belong to that demon Xi Lun. It was one of the deputy magistrates.

Hands reached for him and attempted to hook beneath his arms to haul him up. Kaifeng shook them away and pushed himself up. It took several attempts, but he managed to struggle to his feet on his own. A sharp pain shot through his chest. His ribs were most certainly broken.

They unlocked the chains from his wrists and his ankles and then led him outdoors where the light stabbed into his eyes like a thousand pinpricks. Squinting, he tried to discern who was there. Li Yen wasn’t there, but Inspector Xi and his thugs were also gone.

“You’ve been dismissed from your position, Wu.” It was one of the constables speaking now. He sounded regretful. “You no longer work for the magistrate, but you’re free to go.”

Kaifeng sucked in a breath as he tried to move. He was a sack of bones and flesh barely threaded together as he willed one foot in front of the other. At some point, he lost track of time. He was now outside the yamen, staring at the street. Suddenly a litter appeared before him. He didn’t remember it stopping there.

“Help me bring him inside,” a female voice implored.

This time he didn’t fight as strong arms hefted him into the litter. Instead of being laid out on the wooden seat, he found his head resting on the softest, most welcoming pillow in the world.

“Please forgive me, Kaifeng.”

Cool fingers brushed the hair away from his eyes and ran gently down his cheek. Mingyu. It had to be her. It was her voice, her touch, the scent of her skin. As he settled into her lap, Kaifeng shut his eyes and let his hand close around her knee as he drifted once more. He wanted something to hold on to. To be sure Mingyu would still be there when he awoke.

* * *

“DRINK.”

Mingyu was still there, cradling him in her arms as she lifted a bowl to his lips. He’d been denied food and water while imprisoned and the first sip brought a raging thirst upon him. He drank in big greedy gulps, the cool drink reviving him.

Next came a cold soup that Mingyu fed to him spoon by spoon. When he tried to speak, she was rather strict.

“The doctor said to finish this.”

He did as he was told. After the soup was done, she lowered his head gingerly back onto the bed.

“Where are we?” he asked, peering around.

The furniture was made of dark, polished wood and decorated with carvings. The accommodations were much finer than anything he was accustomed to.

“We’re in Lord Bai’s family mansion.”

“I thought you might have taken me back to the Lotus Palace.”

Her lips pressed into a hard line. “You know I won’t go back there.”

Her expression remained focused as she untied his belt and opened the edges of his tunic to expose his chest. What she saw broke through her composed facade.

Her voice trembled. “Kaifeng—”

“It looks worse than it feels.”

Which was true. It had been two days since his so-called interrogation. Other than the occasional stab in his side from his broken ribs, the sharpness of the pain had receded into a dull, throbbing ache. The lack of water had been worse on his body than the physical blows, to tell the truth of it.

“The damage was inflicted days ago, breaking vessels beneath the skin and causing the blood to pool,” he explained. “As time goes by, the blood coagulates and darkens. Bruising, as ugly as it is, is a sign of healing.”

He could see the dissertation wasn’t helping her, but somehow he couldn’t stop.

Mingyu squeezed her eyes shut, effectively silencing him. “How can you be so unaffected by what happened?”

“I’m not unaffected,” he said quietly.

Worse than the beating were the things Xi Lun had told him. Things he knew to be true.

He regarded Mingyu as she stood over him, still so beautiful, with a sharpness to her beauty that cut deep inside him. It was difficult to look at her again. To look at her was to want her and that was the cruelest pain of all.

“Inspector Xi told me that it was well-known how you resented me.”

She swallowed and her look was one of anguish. “That was a long time ago.”

“Not that long ago, Mingyu.”

Her eyes opened and she sank down onto the bed next to him, her head beside his shoulder. She rested her fingertips against his arm. “I’m so sorry,” she said brokenly.

He ran his tongue over his lips. Even with the water she’d given him, his throat was still dry. “You hated me for what I did to you.”

“You made me afraid. For the first time in a long time, I felt completely helpless.”

Afraid. When Mingyu had surrendered herself to him in the middle of the street, it hadn’t been a surrender at all. She’d approached him like a goddess with the world at her feet. The memory was etched so deep in his mind that he could see her now, her red robe, her hair falling down her back, skin as pale as snow and just as pure. He might have fallen a bit in love with her at that moment, way back then.

And then he’d tried to force a confession out of her because it was his duty and...how dare anyone affect him so. Against all will of his own.

Yet it had tortured him to hurt her. And then he couldn’t rid her from his thoughts.

“There is no need for you to be sorry,” he told her. “Xi Lun couldn’t accuse you so readily if I hadn’t listed your name as a suspect.”

“Why did you do that?” she asked, startled.

“It was a reasonable conclusion. I didn’t want to let emotion cloud my judgment.” He inhaled, exhaled. Felt the labor of his breath against his ribs. “I didn’t protect you from him as I should have.”

“It wasn’t your doing.” Her mouth was tight as she regarded him. “The inspector would have found a way to punish me regardless for daring to run away from him.”

There was no way to avoid the truth. They had done this to each other.

Mingyu raised herself from the bed and removed his tunic. Ever careful of his ribs, she rolled him onto his side. He heard a sharp intake of breath above him as she glimpsed his back.

“It only looks bad,” he reminded her, though it wasn’t completely true. Every movement hurt. He could only breathe in shallow gasps.

Mingyu’s first touch came at the hard knots of muscle between his neck and shoulder. She was tenuous at first, being gentler than she needed to be as she ran her hands down his back.

“The doctor said this would help with the aches and pains.”

Her fingers were coated now with medicated oil. As the sharp scent of licorice root and peppermint surrounded him, he was brought back to his foster father’s shop in Suzhou province. The dark, cool interior lined with so many tiny cabinets containing various flowers and roots and seeds. Ginseng and cinnamon leaf. The harsh smell of camphor.

There was the old couch in back where ailing patients lay to have their aching joints and muscles tended to. Not by a beautiful courtesan like Mingyu, but with a similar herbal ointment.

The mixture warmed and reacted as it soaked into his skin. The soup Mingyu had given him was also beginning to take effect, taking away the edge of the pain and dulling even the throbbing in his ribs. It must have contained the minang poppy. He was becoming drowsy, his limbs heavy and boneless.

“Turn over.”

Her voice floated to him as if through clouds. Obediently, he did as she asked. Mingyu could have asked him to swallow fire at that moment and he would have been powerless to resist.

Now he was on his back, facing her as she massaged the oil into his arms and torso. The medicine heated his muscles, draining away the tension.

“How did you manage to free me?”

Mingyu was avoiding his eyes, focusing instead on whatever part of him she was tending to. “It wasn’t me. Lord Bai spoke to the authorities on your behalf.”

She was denying her part in it, but he knew better. Bai Huang wouldn’t have raised his voice if it weren’t for Mingyu.

“I thought you might have negotiated with Xi Lun.”

Her hands paused on him. “In his bed, you mean?”

He didn’t answer.

Mingyu sank her nails lightly into his stomach, just enough to make him jump. “Never.”

She resumed her ministrations. The muscles of his abdomen tensed as she stroked downward, kneading in small circles.

“I’m grateful for that,” he admitted.

The thought of that demon touching her made his blood boil. Kaifeng didn’t want Mingyu to belong to any other man—not that she belonged to him.

“Magistrate Li also played a part,” she said. “He tried to free you from the start, immediately sending copies of his petition to the imperial court as well as all of the Six Ministries. In the end, it was his plea that the official decree acted upon.”

Kaifeng assumed that Li had abandoned him. Instead, the magistrate had been fighting valiantly in his own bureaucratic fashion.

“Li Yen,” he muttered. “The skin would have been flayed from my back before he secured my release.”

“But he would have prevailed.”

Kaifeng snorted. “He would have prevailed.”

A smile graced Mingyu’s lips before her hair fell over her cheek to cover it.

His foster father had charts and diagrams detailing all of the pressure points within the human body. Within the points was the power to cure any ailment, to restore balance, to heal. Mingyu’s hands moved over him now, unintentionally locating each secret meridian and discovering the invisible wounds that had scarred over a long time ago.

As she soothed over his bruises with more kindness and care than his flesh had ever known, it was easy to forgive her. He had always known who Mingyu was: proud, haughty, emotional and tormented. And he was who he was. Relentless. Detached.

Kaifeng was doing the same thing he always had. Looking over whatever calamity had befallen him, building a wall around it, walking away. But the barriers wouldn’t form around Mingyu. He could feel the parts inside of him where she had become embedded.

He should tell her that there was nothing to forgive. That he knew what she was doing now, caring for him, trying to heal his wounds in any way she could. Kaifeng wasn’t unaffected by it. He was moved.

But the words wouldn’t come. It was better for Mingyu that the walls remain in place. He was sharper that way and he needed all of his instincts in place. Even though he was no longer constable, Kaifeng still had a case to solve. A case that would determine Mingyu’s fate as well as his own.

“Mingyu, you must do something for me.”

She rushed to help him as he tried to push up from the bed. “Yes. Anything.”

“Bring the magistrate. I need to speak with Li Yen immediately.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

THEY HAD LITTLE time to prepare for Li Yen’s arrival. Mingyu took extra care as she helped Kaifeng into a sitting position.

“You can stay hidden, if you wish,” he suggested.

“What good would that do? Without my word, there’s no support to the claim that General Deng is alive.”

She did have her doubts about bringing the magistrate into their confidence, but Kaifeng seemed to trust him. In any case, the time for debate was over as a knock came on the door to announce Li’s arrival.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Kaifeng promised.

“You can barely move,” she chided as she started for the door.

He caught her hand before she made it very far. His pupils focused into two sharp points as he regarded her.

“I won’t let anything happen.” It was a promise.

Mingyu nodded, too choked with emotion to speak. She had thought he would hate her after what Xi Lun had done to him.

A second knock came. Li Yen paused when she opened the door and a worry line formed over his youthful features.

She beckoned him inside, unperturbed. “Wu is waiting for you.”

“Lady Mingyu, if anyone discovers I know where you are, it could be disastrous for me.”

There was no need to say who he was concerned about.

“Forgive this humble servant’s observation, but there seems to be more important matters at hand. And are you not still the county magistrate?”

Li didn’t respond to her not-so-subtle reminder, but something sparked in his eyes. He entered the chamber and stopped at the foot of the bed to look over his former constable.

Kaifeng had not suffered any blows to the face and his clothing hid the map of bruises over his body, but anyone could see how he struggled to remain composed. The drug was taking effect, causing his breathing to slow and making his eyelids heavy.

But duty came first with Wu Kaifeng.

“Li,” he greeted.

“Wu.” He took the stool beside the bed. “What is it you wanted me to know?”

“I have discovered that the person beheaded was not General Deng.”

Mingyu ventured over to stand beside Kaifeng in case he needed her assistance, but also to get a clear view of the interaction. Her future depended on this case.

Li Yen took the news in stride. “How do you know this?”

Kaifeng nodded toward her.

“I reviewed the sketches,” she said, allowing Kaifeng to save his breath. “The body didn’t belong to the general, I’m certain of it.”

“This explanation also aligns with our other observations,” Kaifeng explained. “Why Deng wasn’t accompanied by his usual bodyguards. How the victim did not defend himself.”

“It will be difficult to prove anything,” the magistrate said, frowning. “Especially when Deng’s widow identified the body as her husband’s.”

Kaifeng shook his head. “We don’t need to prove anything. We take what we know and force Deng out of hiding. He’s the murderer here, not the victim. He deceived us all.”

Li bowed his head momentarily in thought. When he lifted it again, his decision was made. “What do you propose?”

“Deng’s widow and son must be put under house arrest. The servants, as well. Bring Yuan Lo, the steward, in for questioning. He will be the most willing to talk.”

Kaifeng’s eyes were glazing over, but he listed his instructions clearly while Li listened with rapt attention. There was some history between the two men, Mingyu was certain of it.

“It will be difficult to put the Deng family on house arrest,” the magistrate pointed out. “But perhaps I could pose it another way. The magistrate’s office is within rights to assign guard detail for their own safety.”

“A good plan,” Kaifeng agreed. “There’s something else you should know. I made Inspector Xi aware of our suspicions.”

“What did he say?”

Kaifeng paused, his expression going cold. “He said nothing. At least not with words.”

Mingyu started toward Kaifeng, but stopped herself. They weren’t alone and their association was far from a proper one. Li’s eyebrows lifted as he regarded the two of them. She challenged his curious stare with one that was pleasantly blank.

The magistrate was the first to look away. “We’ll need to resolve this quickly, hopefully before the Palace Bureau becomes entangled in it.” Li stood, noticeably invigorated by the conversation. He sobered as Kaifeng took much longer to struggle to his feet. “I am sorry, Wu. I’ll have you re-instated as constable once this investigation is over and your name is cleared.”

“Let us focus on the task at hand. Nothing more.”

Kaifeng bowed in farewell and Li did the same. Mingyu waited until the magistrate was gone before coming forward.

“You shouldn’t be standing up,” she scolded.

“It’s not so bad.”

Kaifeng pressed a hand tight against his side as he lowered himself back onto the bed.

She sat down beside him as Kaifeng bent his head to catch his breath. “Is pride worth it?”

He turned only his head to face her, his lips lifting in a slow, crooked smile. “If pride is all one has left.”

His movements grew languid and his speech slowed as the drug took full effect.

Guilt needled its way into her chest. “It troubles you not to be able to hunt down Deng yourself, doesn’t it?”

“I would like to see this to the end, for both of our sakes.”

To the end of the investigation? Or of their time together?

“You should rest.”

Mingyu draped her arm around his shoulders to ease him back into bed. He sank back willingly, watching her the entire time. When her touch lingered on his arm, he looked at the point of contact as if studying it.

“Should I go?” Why did it break her heart to have to ask that question?

“No, stay.”

Careful not to disturb him, she lay down on the edge of the bed. He was fully clothed, those awful bruises covered up, but she knew they were there.

Even though they had become lovers, Mingyu hadn’t developed that familiar ease around Kaifeng that came with a long-time patron. Whenever he was close, her pulse raced. She was acutely aware of his every action and gesture.

“You and Magistrate Li knew one another before you came to the capital?” she inquired tentatively.

“We met in Suzhou.”

“Were you a constable there?”

“I was nothing.”

“A man can’t be nothing,” she teased. “Even a beggar is something.”

At least he smiled. “A hired hand,” he amended. “A job here and there. I was taken in by the physician Guo to keep me from wandering the streets, but I wandered, anyway. He tried to teach me his profession so that he might pass on his practice, but I was a failure. Without any will or desire of my own, when soldiers came to recruit for the local garrison, I went.”

Mingyu listened with fascination. “I’ve never heard you speak so much about your past.”

“It’s the minang soup. The poppy makes one’s thoughts wander.”

“I must remember that.”

“It can also be poisonous. Such is true of many remedies, light properties along with dark. People are like that, as well. Cruel, then kind.”

Kaifeng was getting maudlin. And free with his words. She was rather fond of the condition.

He shifted to seek out a more comfortable position. Even the small movement made him wince and her heart broke again for him.

“Is there anything I can do?”

He shook his head and let it fall back heavily. “Time is all it takes. Everything heals with time.”

His voice had slowed to a deep, rumbling drawl and his eyelids drooped.

Mingyu edged closer to him, reaching out to lay her hand over his. At first Kaifeng didn’t react, but after a moment his fingers began to move absently between hers, as if searching for a place to belong.

“How did you meet Magistrate Li?” She probably shouldn’t disturb him, but she wanted the intimacy of the moment to last a little longer.

Kaifeng’s breathing deepened and she thought he had fallen asleep, but he started talking again.

“Li Yen had been appointed as deputy magistrate of the local county. One day someone brought an unusual petition before the tribunal. The local physician was being accused of causing the death of one of his patients.”

“Dear Heaven—”

“Old Guo,” he confirmed.

Kaifeng opened his eyes. The drowsiness was momentarily banished from them, but his gaze was distant, wandering somewhere in the past before focusing back on her.

“I shouldn’t pry into your past,” she apologized. “This is a private memory.”

“No, I want you to know. Xi Lun knows.” He paused, his jaw hardening before he continued. “The man who accused the physician was a wealthy landowner. His nephew, the man claimed, was a healthy and vigorous youth. Yet after going to Guo for his headaches, the young man died mysteriously the very next day.

“Li Yen acted as record-keeper as the head magistrate questioned patients and neighbors. Once his investigation was done, my foster father was brought before the tribunal. The verdict was a shock to all who knew him.”

She squeezed his hand to reassure him, but Kaifeng didn’t react. He continued with his story as if reading a report.

“The magistrate declared that though Old Guo was well-respected in the past, he had grown careless during the last year. Patients reported they would become ill after treatment. A search of Old Guo’s medicine cabinet revealed that many of the remedies were sorted incorrectly. And when the concoction he had given the victim was brewed and fed to a pig, the animal died the next day.

“After that, the magistrate attempted leniency, ruling that the young man’s death was unintentional. My foster father suffered a public beating and a heavy fine. His shop was closed and he was no longer allowed to practice.

“Old Guo accepted his punishment with quiet humility, but he was known for being meticulous. He taught me how to organize that cabinet himself. Once I put the wrong herb into one of the drawers. When Guo found out, he was so angry that he struck me. He shouted at me for being careless. Guo had always been so soft-spoken that I knew this to be serious. Life and death. That’s how I knew Old Guo would never be so forgetful. I swore I would clear his name.”

“What could you possibly do? The magistrate had already handed down his sentence.”

“That is when I became acquainted with Li Yen. He had his doubts from the beginning, as well, but the head magistrate wasn’t convinced. We did our own investigation and found the medicine cabinets had been tampered with. Patients had been bribed to exaggerate or even lie outright. Some hadn’t even been treated by Old Guo. And the true reason for the ruse—the victim’s father had passed way, leaving him land that the greedy uncle wanted for himself.”

Kaifeng was beginning to fade again. Mingyu was so caught up in the tale, she feared she wouldn’t hear the end. “So you redeemed your foster father as you promised.”

“No.”

She gave him a look of confusion.

“The head magistrate refused to rescind his sentence. Pride, perhaps. Ignorance, certainly. But the damage was already done. Old Guo hadn’t left his room since the verdict and refused to eat unless I sat beside him, watching over every bite. When I told him the truth, the light seemed to return to his eyes. ‘You have been a dutiful son,’ he told me. The next day he took his own life.”

The story ended with a crash of silence. There was nothing more to be said or done.

Mingyu felt the indignity of it down to her bones. Her fists were clenched for this physician she hadn’t even known, yet there was no sign of rage from Kaifeng. She could feel the tension within him, the echoes of a strong emotion buried deep.

He wasn’t without feeling. Pain, for some, was an absence. A wound to be worn inside. She wanted to reach for him, but there was no way to hold him without hurting him further.

“You’ve always been searching for justice,” she murmured.

“There is no justice.” His breathing deepened as he began to drift. “There are only answers.”

Only when his eyes were closed did she touch a hand to his cheek. Sleep only softened his features a little. She bent down to kiss his lips, lingering there longer than she should have.

“I don’t blame you for what happened,” he mumbled as she straightened.

His words were slurred and his eyes remained closed. Just like that, he was asleep again.

She fought back tears. Was this awful ache inside her due to guilt or because she had come to care for him? She didn’t know. Everything she felt flooded in all at once, overwhelming her—fear, pain and loss.

Mingyu stood by the door for a long time, composing herself before stepping out into the courtyard where everyone was waiting. Bai Huang and Yue-ying stood beside one another, two halves of a whole as they looked at her with concern.

Wei-wei was the first to speak. “How is he?”

Mingyu remained calm as she came forward. The storm within her had quieted momentarily. She had brought those treacherous emotions under control and they now awaited her command.

“I want Inspector Xi Lun,” she declared. “I want him destroyed.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

“THE PHYSICIAN TOLD you to move as little as possible.”

Mingyu was standing inside the door, tray in hand and a stern look upon her face. Kaifeng had a hand braced against the bed and one foot on the floor, having just been caught trying to get up.

“Exercise is good for healing,” he stated. “It balances out the elements.”

She blinked pointedly at him while he kept his expression blank.

“You’re making that up,” she accused.

Mingyu came toward him, but not fast enough to prevent him from straightening onto his feet. His chest complained, but he ignored it. If Mingyu caught him showing any signs of pain, she would use it to confine him to the bed. She was stricter than a prison warden.

“I have been lying here all week.”

“Three days,” she corrected.

They reached the table at the same time and Mingyu set her tray upon it as he struggled onto the stool. She ignored his efforts and he was grateful. She had figured out quickly he didn’t take to being treated as an invalid.

Kaifeng remained silent as Mingyu arranged the contents of the tray onto the table. He in turn had discovered that Mingyu placed high value on small rituals and courtesies and it was actually soothing to watch her as she did such common things as place a pot of tea to the right and a plate of cakes to the left, all with a sense of grace and balance.

The first sip of his tea tasted cloyingly of honey immediately followed by a strong bitter flavor that coated his tongue. Poppy tea, to take his pains and cares away. He set the lid back on the bowl and set it aside. “Not today.”

Without argument, Mingyu placed an empty bowl before him and poured fresh tea from the pot.

“I must find out whether Li Yen has made any progress,” he began.

“Magistrate Li is still investigating the matter,” she reported curtly. “He thinks Deng might have fled the city. Lord Bai disagrees.”

“Bai Huang has certainly shown a special interest in the general.”

Mingyu murmured something that meant nothing and sipped her tea, gaze downward. If she could tell when he was lying, he could certainly determine when she was hiding something.

“You had a longtime association with Deng. What is your opinion?” Kaifeng asked.

Her reply was immediate. “I have little understanding of such struggles of power.”

He shot her a stern look.

“I think Deng does not feel secure enough to make his next move,” she relented. “He must be hiding and gathering his supporters.” She frowned, struggling over the next part.

“What is it?”

“I am surprised he would take so long to act. Deng was never a patient man. After creating such a diversion, I would have expected Deng to take advantage immediately.”

“Are you still loyal to him?” he asked.

The question took her off guard, which he supposed was his intention.

“Deng is already dead to me. I’ve mourned him.”

“What if he asked for you? Would you go to him?” He gritted his teeth as he waited for her answer. Deng was the powerful protector Mingyu had courted for most of her life.

“We suspect General Deng of treason,” she said evenly. “I would be a fool to go to him.”

“That wasn’t the sort of reply I was looking for.”

Why were his palms sweating, his pulsing racing? He couldn’t even find the right questions to ask.

Mingyu looked downward, rearranging a teapot that didn’t need to be rearranged. “I didn’t love Deng. I never loved him and never hoped I would come to love him. I know this now.” She took a deep breath before meeting his eyes. “I know this now because I didn’t feel as if a part of me was missing when we were apart. Knowing he’s in danger doesn’t make me fear for him, even more than I do for myself.”

Color rose high on her cheeks as she watched him, waiting for his reaction. Kaifeng gripped his teacup so tightly that the liquid splashed warm over his fingers. He needed to say something to her, anything.

“Mingyu!”

Someone else called her name the same time he meant to. Yue-ying flew into the room. She was out of breath as she took hold of Mingyu’s arm.

“The magistrate is coming. The servants saw him riding with an armed escort in this direction. Ten men. Maybe more.”

Ignoring the throb in his ribs, Kaifeng pushed to his feet. “Li Yen is on our side.”

“Unless his hand is being forced by a superior.” Yue-ying’s loyalty for her sister outweighed everything. She turned to Mingyu. “We need to get you somewhere safe in case he’s here to arrest you.”

Mingyu stood her ground. “If Li is here to arrest me, I have no choice but to go with him.”

“But Huang is at the ministry offices. We can’t protect you from the magistrate.”

“I’ll meet with Li,” Kaifeng interjected. “I can usually make him see reason.”

Yue-ying left to inform the rest of the household while Mingyu gathered his boots and his outer robe. Dressing was a slow affair. He moved with the quickness of his great-grandfather and was unable to lift his arms above his shoulders without a jolt of pain.

“Come here,” Mingyu said. “Sit.”

Kaifeng lowered himself onto the stool facing her. She undid the tie and raked her fingers through the length of his hair.

“You look like a barbarian,” she complained, but her voice surrounded him like a warm blanket.

Her pale throat was before him and the swell of her breasts covered by nothing more than a wispy layer of silk. Kaifeng’s tongue grew thick in his mouth as he tried to remember what he meant to say to her.

“I never loved him and never hoped I would come to love him.”

She’d said it with sincerity, with her heart completely open. It was an admission. A confession. But what on his grave did she mean?

“I know this now. I know this now, because...”

Damn it all. Mingyu was asking him some question in that subtle and mysterious way women employed. And she was the essence of all that was feminine and yin and confusing.

She leaned in closer, her arms reaching around him to tie back his hair. The brush of silk and skin against him sent a shudder down his spine.

His hands rounded her waist where they fit perfectly. It was so tempting to believe this woman was meant for him.

“Mingyu,” he began.

“Yes?” She sounded breathless.

He held her apart so he could see her face. She appeared calm, almost tranquil, as if she truly were of another world and nothing on this earth could touch her. Now he understood what that look meant.

It meant Mingyu was preparing for battle.

“When I first saw you, I noticed nothing more than your beauty. But there are many beautiful women in the Pingkang li. Beautiful and talented, as well.”

Mingyu remained silent and still within his grasp. He could sense the tension gathering along her spine.

“The second time I saw you, when I truly saw you, was when you came to me in the street. It was a defiant surrender. You challenged me to arrest you. I knew you had faced hardship, both you and your sister, but you refused to let it diminish you. From that moment forward, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from you. Or my thoughts away from you.”

“But what you describe is merely infatuation, Kaifeng,” she pointed out quietly.

“Do you believe it’s still only that?”

She let her hands fall onto his shoulders and for a few precious moments there were no questions, no explanations. He simply looked at her, and Mingyu at him. He hoped she liked what she saw.

All he could ever see was the problem immediately before him. General Deng. The murder that was not a murder. A headless body used to confuse them all.

Kaifeng hadn’t allowed himself to presume there could be a future between them. Now with Mingyu no longer a courtesan and his dismissal from his position, nothing was certain. But it also meant anything was possible.

“I’ll handle Li Yen,” he told her. “Stay here until I return.”

“Take care, Wu Kaifeng.” She ran her hands over his shoulders and down the front of his robe, smoothing away wrinkles that didn’t exist. “You may not realize it, but Li Yen respects you. He values your judgment more than anyone else’s. Remember that.”

* * *

IT APPEARED AS if the entire household had assembled in the front courtyard. The servants were arranged in back while Madame Bai and Lady Wei-wei stood just inside the gate. Yue-ying was there, as well, the red birthmark on her left cheek lending her a fiery appearance like a painted warrior woman from the opera house.

“We’ve sent for Bai Huang,” Yue-ying informed Kaifeng as he approached the line.

The women did look like they were assembling on the battlefield. As if these slender willows could stop a patrol of heavy-handed constables.

“I apologize, Madame,” he addressed Bai’s mother. She was the smallest of the three women, the top of her head barely reaching his chest. But in the absence of the elder Lord Bai, she became the acting head of the household based on age and status. “If you will allow me to meet Magistrate Li in the street, I will do what I can to prevent this intrusion into your home.”

Bai Furen did not look pleased, but she nodded courteously. “Whatever you see fit, Constable.”

He considered informing her that he was no longer constable, but Kaifeng bowed instead and started for the gate. Once outside, he saw Li approaching on horseback with a band of constables behind him. Kaifeng recognized them all. They had been his brothers-in-arms not too long ago.

“Wu!” Li Yen urged his mount forward and lowered himself from the saddle. “Inspector Xi is coming. I hear he has commandeered the city guard as his police force.”

“You’re not here to arrest Mingyu yourself?”

“I’m here to draw the battle lines. I’m the appointed magistrate. This is my jurisdiction.”

By then, Li’s constable brigade had reached them, jogging in two lines that were far from straight. They carried weapons and acted as the magistrate’s enforcers and thief-catchers, but most lacked any formal training.

“If any fighting occurs, your men will be outmatched by the city guard,” Kaifeng warned.

“If any fighting occurs, we’ll have already lost,” Li concurred. “This is a contest of will. And of shameless posturing.”

The magistrate positioned his men outside the gate and then stood stridently at the head of the brigade in what Kaifeng considered a good show of puffing out his chest.

“Should I stay?” Kaifeng asked.

Li shook his finger at him. “Don’t you dare leave, Wu Kaifeng.”

He took the magistrate’s side. Though they had worked closely for several years, they rarely appeared together as they did now. They had always worked separate ends of the same case, exchanging information in private.

“You know I consider you a friend.” Magistrate Li’s gaze remained focused toward the end of the lane. “A true friend.”

“I was not aware.”

“Quite heartfelt there, Wu,” Li said out of the corner of his mouth.

“I’m grateful,” he amended.

Li sighed loudly beside him.

More time passed. Kaifeng could sense the constables lined up behind them near the gate were becoming restless.

Li Yen lowered his voice. “Is there something you wish to confide in me? Now that we’re friends.”

“Lady Mingyu and I, we are friends, as well,” Kaifeng admitted.

Li cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. Apparently that wasn’t quite what the magistrate was searching for.

“That mill owner in Suzhou,” Li prompted. “Liu was his name? It was the first case we worked on together, unofficially, of course. I know you remember him.”

Kaifeng grew still. “The dog who killed his nephew.”

It seemed he would never be free of the scandal that had implicated his foster father.

“I recently learned that he died of mysterious circumstances immediately after you left Suzhou,” Li said.

“It sounds like divine retribution,” Kaifeng replied calmly, though his heart pounded.

He had to give Xi Lun credit for being able to uncover secrets buried several provinces away. In the next moment, Kaifeng would learn exactly what sort of justice Li believed in. It was a long moment to suffer.

“A man creates his own fate,” Li concluded.

For the moment, danger seemed to have blown over, but Inspector Xi Lun appeared at the end of the lane and Li barked at his men to stand straight and prepare themselves.

A surge of anger flooded his veins, raw and hot. The inspector was flanked on either side by city guards, each outfitted in a full suit of padded armor with a sword at his side. They were indeed fearsome, but there were only two of them.

Xi stopped at the front of the gate and his lip curled in distaste at the sight of the two men blocking his path and the brigade fanned out behind them. “I see you have your lackey once again at your side, Magistrate Li.”

Kaifeng clenched his fists, then gradually slowly unclenched them, forcing his hands open and his mind along with it. Anger would not serve him. He had always relied on reason, not strength. “Turn around, Inspector. There is nothing for you here.”

“Does this creature actually speak?”

Li Yen chuckled. “How amusing, Inspector! Trading elementary insults? Thank you for reminding me of the games of my boyhood. So clever.”

“Where is Lady Mingyu?” Xi Lun gritted out, his complexion going red.

“Always this same question,” Kaifeng replied stone-faced. “My answer is unfortunately the same—I cannot say.”

“I know she’s here.”

“Don’t you have more pressing matters to attend to?” Li interrupted. “I am certain the Palace Bureau wasn’t appointed to duplicate the duties of the magistrate’s office. You will have to be satisfied to leave the lady under Lord Bai’s protection and my jurisdiction.”

Xi Lun let out a long-suffering sigh. “Apparently the courtesan enjoys drawing out the drama.”

Kaifeng looked to Li who merely stared back at him, at a loss for an answer.

“Lady Mingyu invited me here,” Xi Lun told them. “Or rather she demanded I come.”

“Gentlemen.”

A voice as soft as silk and sharp as steel came from behind them. Mingyu emerged through the gate and the line of men parted obligingly for her. Her shapely eyes locked onto Inspector Xi.

“Let us not argue out on the street. Come inside for tea, Inspector.”

She turned without waiting for a reply. Xi Lun’s gaze skewered all of them in turn before following Mingyu inside.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

MINGYU ENTERED THE main courtyard with the grace of a tigress with three men following her lead. She knew without a doubt that they followed. This was like the final dramatic scene in an opera. Set the stage and everyone would naturally play their part.

The Bai household was gathered to witness the events unfolding and Yue-ying was among them. Her younger sister shot her a worried look, but Yue-ying should have known this was finally her field of battle.

Men certainly praised her for her beauty. More often they praised her for her talent with music or her clever conversation, but her true gift remained unspoken for. A hostess’s gift was for controlling the gathering, often not an easy feat considering there was the influence of wine, pretty song girls and a room of men all fighting for position.

“What is this?” Xi Lun demanded.

She turned to see him holding up the book that she had sent to him by messenger the previous day. She imagined he must have spent the entire night reading through the pages.

“A gift,” she replied coyly. “Did you enjoy it?”

With a sneer, he threw it at her feet where it lay among the stones. Mingyu smiled. Inspector Xi played his part perfectly. Young, arrogant, full of pride and without a trace of restraint.

“You confessed to wanting to make a name for yourself, my lord, so I thought I would copy everything that is being said about you to celebrate your success.”

“This is nonsense. Worthless gossip.”

“There were some rather ordinary verses,” she agreed. “A few of the couplets were base, even bawdy in nature. Sometimes the authors are a bit drunk when they compose these poems. But the ones in the front are quite artistic. The historian Taizhu had a particularly biting commentary. He excels at that. You should consider it a compliment to be ridiculed by him.”

“The Emperor has no particular fondness for Taizhu’s commentary,” Xi retorted.

“But apparently he does read them.”

Silence ruled the Bai mansion. Wei-wei’s hand flew to her mouth in shock and, as Mingyu suspected, delight. Magistrate Li bit back a grin. It was a small audience, but a varied one with enough respect and reach to spread the story. This was not the Pingkang li and she had no concerns about saving Xi Lun from ruin.

Xi Lun met her with a cold stare, but it didn’t intimidate her like it once had. He had forced her into a corner and she no longer had anything to lose.

“Do you believe I can be defeated by a few harsh words from a courtesan and her meager circle of friends?”

Kaifeng started forward the moment Xi raised his voice, but she held him back with a look. He remained a few paces behind Xi Lun, who was truly oblivious to how he was surrounded and outnumbered.

“The inspector studied in the capital, did you not? We are infatuated with words here. A well-thought-out verse can make a career. A clever turn of a phrase is repeated over and over.” She glanced at the book that lay at her feet. “I especially like the couplet that questioned whether you feared forgetting your own name. You mentioned it so often in company. And so loudly at that, in case one was hard of hearing. Or what of the one who likened you to the beggar that put on a prince’s robe and thought himself magically transformed. That was an amusing fable there.”

“Know your enemies,” Xi warned. “I don’t think you truly comprehend who you are going to battle against.”

“The brilliant general Master Sun teaches that one should know his enemies, but himself first,” Mingyu remarked. “It is indeed admirable to have achieved the rank of an attendant censor. What you don’t realize is that goodwill in this city is currency. No matter what your rank may be, you cannot spend it heedlessly without running out. You have been throwing your gold coins down a dark well, my dear Inspector. Influence, rank, the Emperor’s favor. You have spent them all without replenishing your supply.” She approached slowly, head high and shoulders back. “There are many rules of conduct in the capital, Inspector. But the most important one is this— One is grateful for one’s position. One is humble in it. No matter how high or low the rank. Isn’t that true, Lord Bai, esteemed Collator of the Left Wing of the Records Office?”

“Assistant Collator,” Bai Huang insisted good-naturedly.

All heads turned as he entered the courtyard. He looked about, his expression both bewildered and amused. “So many esteemed guests at our house! I wish I would have known. I would have bought more wine.”

“Lord Bai.” Xi spoke first in an attempt to regain control of the proceedings. “I apologize for the unexpected visit, but there is an important judicial matter to be taken care of.” He turned to Magistrate Li next. “I trust you will do your duty and arrest Lady Mingyu, who is guilty of violating her bond as well as conspiracy in the murder of General Deng. You will arrest your former constable as well for aiding her.”

“I refuse,” Li declared.

“You are required by law to do so. Failure is a punishable offense.”

“Then have me removed from office.”

“Now, gentlemen!” Bai Huang stepped between them. “Dissension between various departments is a bad reflection upon the state. Let us settle this in civilized fashion. Perhaps over tea.”

He gestured for the servants and his family to retreat back into the house. Obediently, the crowd began to disperse.

“Do not resign on my behalf,” Kaifeng said.

Li snorted. “I wasn’t going to resign. This is a bluff. Xi will have to write up a lengthy report on my failure to perform and then petition the imperial court. After that, it will be at least a week for their decision. By then, you’ll have found the general.”

The inspector looked on in dismay at the magistrate’s bluntness. “There is no evidence that Deng Zhi is not dead,” he said feebly.

Bai Huang threw up his hand to put a halt to the argument.

“Inspector Xi,” he said with a sigh. “I hold you in the highest of regard. Please leave my house now.”

Xi Lun started to protest his rude dismissal, but after looking around at the pairs of eyes fixed upon him, he thought better of it. With a curl of his lip, he turned and left without a proper farewell.

“He seems to lack the subtlety required of an official in the capital,” Bai Huang remarked from beside her.

“Perhaps his skills would be an asset in some other circuit,” Mingyu suggested mildly, but not too mildly. “Somewhere far away from here.”

A small victory was still a victory.

“Unfortunately, Inspector Xi is right about one thing,” Bai Huang addressed the three of them that remained. “We don’t have evidence that the general is alive. Deng’s family has been under watch for a long time, even before this news came to light. A special decree was issued to keep the widow and her son from leaving the city, lest they rally Deng’s army to take revenge.”

Kaifeng came to join them. “It seems the imperial court doesn’t particularly care who killed Deng Zhi.”

“Rebellion is a much larger concern. So let us capture the true villain here. The traitor.” Bai Huang looked gravely around their small circle. “Between the four of us, we must be able to figure this out. Where is Deng hiding?”

Li Yen was the first to report. “Deng’s widow and son are secured inside their mansion. I brought the steward Yuan Lo into custody, but he had nothing to say.”

“What of Deng’s bodyguards?” Kaifeng asked. “They were never found.”

“They were found.” Bai Huang’s expression became darker still. “I came across the report from the Palace Bureau today. They’re all dead. Throats cut. It’s believed they were killed soon after Deng’s murder. Or at least his assumed murder. This is what happens when a rebellion begins to fall apart.”

“Someone is trying to silence the co-conspirators,” Kaifeng remarked. “It might have been Deng himself.”

Mingyu pressed her hand to her mouth to force back a wave of nausea. This was too much. Too much violence and death.

“You escaped,” Kaifeng said quietly. He pressed his palm to her back to reassure her. The touch remained for only a moment before it retreated. “Deng no longer has any claim over you.”

She had always known it was dangerous to be associated with a warlord like Deng, yet she had accepted his patronage. Such plots and schemes were far removed from her everyday concerns—food, shelter, being able to earn enough to remain an asset to Madame Sun so she wouldn’t be sold off.

But when Deng wanted her to become his concubine, a warning voice had told Mingyu it wasn’t worth the price.

“I’m not free yet.” She looked to Bai Huang. “Xi Lun wanted to have me arrested on suspicion of conspiracy, didn’t he? It’s a charge worse than murder.”

“That was why the Palace Bureau was so concerned with this investigation,” Magistrate Li realized.

“And why General Deng must have arranged to have Mingyu find the body.” Kaifeng addressed her directly. “Many influential names go through your parlor. With suspicion on you, the investigation could easily be misdirected to any of those men and away from Deng himself.”

She was still entangled in Deng’s schemes.

“If we resolve this, then your name will be cleared,” Bai Huang said. “All of our names will be cleared.”

Lord Bai and Magistrate Li were risking their reputations to support her and Kaifeng had sacrificed so much for her already. They had to find the answers quickly.

“I’ve told you every one of Deng’s hideaways I know about,” she said in desperation. “I don’t know where else to look.”

“I’m at a loss myself,” Bai admitted. He turned to Kaifeng. “You have been closest to this investigation from the beginning, Wu. Where do we go next?”

Kaifeng met Mingyu’s eyes. She knew what his answer would be.

“We return to the Deng mansion. The widow identified the wrong body as her husband’s. She knows more than she’s telling us, I’m certain of it.”

* * *

IT HAD BEEN over a year since Mingyu had been to the Deng residence and she felt a small pang of nostalgia at the sight of it. It was relatively close to the Bai mansion, with both located in the exclusive northern ward near the imperial palace. Inside, the garden still stole her breath away with the trees in all the warm, fiery colors of the autumn. Flowering plants crawled along the grass and she had once counted the number of carp in the pond. At the time, she’d thought herself a woman of the world, but now she realized that younger Mingyu was merely a girl, too easily impressed by wealth and luxury.

Upon arrival, Kaifeng and Lord Bai headed a search of the grounds while Mingyu and Magistrate Li remained with Deng’s widow and son. Deng Furen led them into the main parlor, but offered no tea or hospitality of any sort.

She sat before them unblinking. “Your constables have been outside for three days now. I’ve asked that they be removed, but not only did you not comply with my wishes, you now bring a whole gang of ruffians here to invade our home.”

“I assure Madame that we mean no disrespect,” Li insisted. “This is a necessary measure.”

“Not only is my husband gone, but you must continue casting suspicion upon his name.”

Deng Enlai moved to stand protectively at his mother’s shoulder. In all her years as General Deng’s mistress, Mingyu had never seen his son. There was so much of his father in him, not just in appearance, but in manner, as well.

“You are causing my mother undue grief.” Even at fifteen, Enlai evoked an undeniable presence. “I ask that you keep this conversation brief so that she may rest.”

“The circumstances that brought us here are very unusual, Furen,” Li Yen replied. He took a deep breath before speaking. “General Deng may not be dead.”

“What do you mean not dead?” the widow gasped. “How is that possible?”

Enlai looked ready to have them chased out of the house. “Explain yourself, Magistrate.”

“If you would allow me.” Mingyu spoke for the first time since entering the house. She could feel Deng Furen’s iron gaze on her. “This is quite personal to speak of, Furen, but the two of us have known one another for a long time now. It is no secret that your husband and I were close at one time.”

The woman’s lips tightened into a thin line. “There is no need to say it aloud. We all understand you perfectly.”

“When Furen went to the magistrate’s yamen to identify the body, did she look closely? Certainly there was a mark on the general’s back that would have been impossible—”

The widow held up her hand for silence. “I was grief-stricken, Lady Mingyu. I can’t recall exactly what I saw or didn’t see. Certainly I would not ask my husband be disrobed before strangers, but I recognized him regardless. As close as you were to my husband, I knew him for more than half my lifetime. I doubt I could be mistaken about something so important.”

“The body was missing a head,” Magistrate Li pointed out gently. “It’s easy to see how a mistake could have been made.”

“If my father is alive, then why hasn’t he come to us?” the son demanded. “Why hasn’t he made any attempt to contact his own flesh and blood?”

Was it possible Deng had kept the secret away from his family? Between the widow’s denial and Enlai’s anger, Mingyu was starting to believe it.

“What if my husband were still alive? What would happen then?”

“We would need to warn him,” Li said smoothly. “He was in danger before the murder and we imagine he could be in even more danger now. Your husband had many powerful enemies who might still be looking for revenge. That was why we stationed guards around your house, Furen.”

“And kept us prisoners in our own home.”

“I apologize, but it was necessary. I should inform you that the general’s closest bodyguards were found dead.”

“Those dogs deserved whatever happened to them,” Enlai spat. “If they hadn’t failed in their duties, my father would still be alive.”

Mingyu sat stunned. Li Yen looked equally troubled over the violent outburst. The only person who didn’t appear affected was Deng Furen.

“I don’t know what to think about any of this,” she went on evenly. “My husband was buried. He was honored as a hero and given a state funeral. Now you tell me that man I laid to rest wasn’t my husband?”

“If General Deng were alive, where would he be?” Li Yen asked.

Deng Furen shook her head. “He can’t be alive. If he was alive, he would have come for us. It’s cruel for you to even suggest this, Magistrate.” She fixed her gaze onto Mingyu. “And you, Lady Mingyu. After all that our family has done for you, you shouldn’t be putting these ideas into men’s heads.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

KAIFENG ASKED FOR one of the maidservants to accompany them on the search. As for the rest of the household, he had them rounded up into one of the private gardens with guards stationed at the entrance to watch over them.

“So we can make quick work of this,” he explained to Lord Bai. “Li Yen will only be able to detain Deng Furen and her son for so long. The lady of the house will no doubt have objections to family property being intruded upon and if her loyal servants rally to her aid, this could become a disaster.”

Bai Huang looked across the span of the second courtyard to the main house. “This is a large residence for us to do a thorough search. Even with your constables, it could be days.”

“We’ll need to focus our efforts.” He gestured the housekeeper forward. She was a young woman, seventeen years at most. “Show us General Deng’s chamber as well as where Deng Furen and Deng Enlai stay.”

“Is there anything in particular we’re looking for?” Bai asked as they entered the family’s private quarters in the main house.

“Correspondence, anything that might indicate he’s returned or where he might be. They would be hidden among personal effects.”

The general’s chambers had been untouched since his death. The two of them sorted quickly through his wardrobe and trunks without any success. The cabinets and shelves in the study similarly yielded nothing.

“The family had just been summoned to Changan by the Emperor,” Bai Huang recounted as they moved onto the adjoining chamber belonging to Deng’s wife. “They were only to be here temporarily.”

“Or so they thought.”

The young lord nodded. “The Emperor must have summoned Deng here to the capital to keep his enemies close. And what better to hold over his head than his family?”

“Deng must have realized quickly how much danger he was in. Even Mingyu knew of how the Emperor feared his growing power. Realizing how swiftly the ax was coming down, he plotted escape by faking his own death.”

“Perhaps knowing it wouldn’t be long before his enemies came after him, anyway,” Lord Bai suggested.

Kaifeng paused at the doors of the wardrobe, stared at the assortment of women’s clothing and effects inside in bewilderment, then gestured for Bai Huang to take over the task. He at least had a wife and these things weren’t so unfamiliar.

Moving to the corner, Kaifeng scanned through the combs and various pots and powders on the dressing table. “As a husband, would a man do such a thing and not tell his own wife?”

Bai Huang closed the wardrobe doors and paused to consider the question. “He would if he were trying to protect her. Deng’s wife was the private part of his life, not part of his plans and schemes.”

Something about the way the nobleman spoke triggered a memory. “Mingyu said that you spoke to the authorities on my behalf.”

“Ah, Wu. There’s no need to thank me.”

“I was actually wondering which authorities those were. Xi Lun, as a member of the Censorate, reports to the Emperor. There are few authorities who could overturn his command.”

Bai blinked at him, his expression perfectly blank.

“You know quite a bit of detail of the activity surrounding General Deng. Details that would be restricted to the inner circles. You also took an interest early on in my investigation. Could it be you’re acting in a much higher capacity than a record-keeper in the imperial archives?”

“You’re a demon, Wu.” He sighed. “You and Mingyu belong together.”

An odd feeling made his chest hitch.

“What is it, Wu?”

“Just the injury,” he said quickly.

He pressed a hand to his ribs, but it did nothing to ease the pain. Bai Huang was less than convinced.

“You know Madame Sun has been making discreet inquiries into Mingyu’s whereabouts,” he said somberly. “Yue-ying has pleaded with me to buy out her sister’s contract, but it’s not so easily done. Madame Sun is a practical woman. She won’t let Mingyu go without extorting as much for her as she can. There’s also our family name to consider. It’s not so much Mingyu’s reputation, but her name inevitably draws attention. Mingyu knows what an uncomfortable situation it would create.”

“What use is there in discussing this? Let us focus on this investigation.”

Kaifeng started to exit the chamber, but the nobleman stepped in front of him. “I was surprised when Mingyu came to me to plead for you. On the surface, no one would believe it, but you’re a good man, Wu Kaifeng. All I wanted to say is that the challenges may seem insurmountable, but maybe there’s some way.”

“Lord Bai, I would be lying to say I don’t think of these things, but it does nothing to worry about problems that can’t be resolved. The most I can do for Mingyu, the only thing I can offer her, is to solve this case.”

Bai Huang nodded solemnly. “Let’s continue, then.”

The son’s chamber was sparser than any of the others. The only item of note was the case containing his father’s sword.

“It was gifted by the previous Emperor when Deng was promoted,” Kaifeng explained as Bai Huang admired the blade. “The bodyguard was beheaded by a razor-sharp edge and there was no weapon found at the site. I considered that it might have been this sword that did the deed.”

“In his son’s hands?”

Kaifeng recounted the rest of his suspicions. “I had doubts that Enlai would behead his own father unless it was an honor killing. It was clear that Deng’s standing with the current Emperor was precarious. But now that we know the victim wasn’t General Deng, it’s possible that Deng had already hidden away the previous night and Enlai decapitated the bodyguard to aid his father’s escape.”

“He wouldn’t leave his son to his enemies,” Bai Huang pointed out. “Not when it’s the son that carries on the father’s legacy.”

It was difficult for Kaifeng, not having any strong ties to his family to understand such sentiments. Even when Old Guo had told him he was a good son, he’d been taken aback. He had never imagined the physician thought of him that way.

“Deng must have stayed close because he wanted to ensure that he and his family were all able to get away. Tell me the truth, Lord Bai. Was the Emperor trying to assassinate his own general?”

Slowly, Bai Huang closed the lid of the sword case and turned to face him. “I wouldn’t necessarily say that, but I think the Emperor was not unhappy to find out that someone else had taken care of Deng Zhi. The Emperor was overjoyed enough to celebrate with a grand funeral in Deng’s honor.”

“But now that the general was not assassinated—”

“To the public and to all of his potential supporters, Deng must remain dead. Which is why everyone inside this mansion must remain silent about what they know until we find the elusive general. A rebellion is nothing without a strong leader at the head.”

Kaifeng nodded with grim satisfaction. At least a few pieces were falling into place. “From the moment Deng’s family set foot in Changan, they were caught in the Emperor’s trap.”

It was clear now that the Emperor had wanted Deng incapacitated, perhaps put on house arrest with his entire family in the capital. But Deng faked his own death in an effort to escape and rally his forces.

“What next, Wu? There’s nothing here.”

“There is one more place.”

Yuan Lo’s room would have fit in one corner of any of the previous bedchambers. It was located next to the kitchen near the front of the house. For a servant, it was something to be said that he had his own private area.

There was not much to it. A plain-looking bed on one side and a small table on the other. The search was nearly done just upon opening the door. His belongings were all laid out on a shelf beside the bed. Old shoes, a jar of medicated ointment, a tunic that needed patching.

“Yuan Lo knew something,” Kaifeng insisted. “He suspected his master was still alive and that his nephew had died in Deng’s place.”

“The steward is being held in prison, is he not? We’ll question him. We’ll question all the servants again,” Bai said wearily.

The nobleman was getting impatient and Kaifeng’s blood was boiling, as well. Deng’s disappearance was even more baffling than his supposed death. Surely someone connected to him must know something. He needed allies to stay hidden. Someone to supply him with food and act as a messenger. And given that the Palace Bureau had been secretly searching for him as well as the constables, where could he be hiding that no one would know?

Kaifeng was about to leave, when something in him insisted on one more pass. He inspected each part of the room once more as if it were his first time. Bai Huang waited by the door which actually made things a bit easier given the cramped space. Tucked beside the foot of the bed was a chamber pot Kaifeng hadn’t noticed before.

“Where was this?”

“No one’s been by to empty it. I set it aside so we wouldn’t knock it over,” Bai Huang replied distastefully.

An aristocrat and his manners, Kaifeng scoffed. He nudged the pot with his foot and felt some weight to it. Yuan Lo had been imprisoned three days ago, but the room certainly didn’t smell as if the chamber pot hadn’t been taken out.

Crouching down, Kaifeng dragged the ceramic vessel out into the open. It was heavier than he expected. There was some object wrapped in oiled cloth inside the clean pot. With some effort, he managed to wrestle out the bundle. Whatever was inside felt loose in his hands, like a sack of rocks. Untying the cloth, he laid out the contents on the bed.

The hidden object had actually been broken into pieces. Not rock.

“Jade,” Bai Huang declared, peering over his shoulder.

Kaifeng picked up a pale green fragment and let out a deep breath. What he held in his palm distinctly resembled a nose. The Emperor had honored Deng with a head carved out of jade which was to be buried with him. Kaifeng remembered the widow boasting about the imperial gift.

“Deng Zhi is hiding exactly where a dead man would be found. He’s in the family mausoleum.”

* * *

NOW THEY STOOD in the mausoleum while Kaifeng, Li Yen and Bai Huang stared at a figure lying on the ground. It was the body of General Deng. No one had said a word since they’d entered. When Bai Huang finally spoke, his voice echoed off the walls of the stone chamber.

“Imagine finding a dead man,” the nobleman intoned, “in his own tomb.”

Magistrate Li pressed a handkerchief to his nose. His complexion was decidedly pale beneath his hand.

“Time of death was likely four or five days ago judging from the color of the skin and the degree of rot,” Kaifeng reported.

The two men stared at him.

“I’ll be waiting outside,” Li said, his voice hollowed by an attempt to breathe only through his mouth.

Lord Bai grimaced, but stiffened his jaw and stayed where he was. “Deng may have stretched out his life by a few days, but what a miserable existence.”

Kaifeng had to agree. The mausoleum was dark and cold. One corner had been set up as a shelter, with a sleeping pallet and oil lamp as well as other supplies. There were bowls of food present, half-eaten. A jug of wine rested beside a tray.

As hard-hearted as Kaifeng was, the thought of General Deng, at one time feared and respected, ending his days huddled in his own tomb was enough to shake him. He was very grateful that he had sent Mingyu back to the Bai mansion before embarking for the mausoleum. She didn’t need to see this or know that such horror existed.

“He couldn’t have planned to remain here long,” he theorized. “Deng must have thought he would hide and gather his resources to make an escape. No one would find it unusual for servants to bring food and wine to honor the dead.”

“Then what happened?”

There were no obvious marks on Deng’s body and the food would indicate he didn’t starve to death.

Kaifeng picked up an empty cup and held it to the light. A small amount of liquid pooled in the bottom with a faint tinge of green to it. Bamboo leaf liquor. He remembered the sweet taste of it on his tongue and the underlying tones of cinnamon and clove. It would have been easy to mask another substance beneath the blend of flavors.

“My guess would be poison.”

“Was this self-inflicted to save face?” Lord Bai wondered aloud.

Not likely from a man who had been ready to challenge the Emperor himself, Kaifeng thought. “We have one more place to go before this is finished.”

* * *

WHEN KAIFENG ENTERED the prison cell, he found Yuan Lo trembling on the floor with his hand clutched to his stomach. Sweat glistened on his forehead and dripped from his face. His clothes were soaked through.

“Is he dead?” the steward asked through clenched teeth.

Kaifeng nodded.

“Then it’s done.”

There was something clenched in the steward’s hand. Kaifeng crouched down and pried a piece of fried cake from his fingers. He must have smuggled it into the cell.

“What was in this?”

Yuan shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

He clutched his stomach as another spasm racked his thin frame. Kaifeng was ensnared within a much older memory. His foster father retreating to his room as he did often in the days following the sentencing. The door had closed so quietly behind him. It was the last time Kaifeng saw Old Guo alive.

He turned his attention back to Yuan. Most likely he had ingested xiong huang, commonly available, potent, quick to take effect. The yellow powder, once properly prepared, was lethal even in small amounts. Kaifeng pressed his fingers over Yuan’s pulse point as he’d seen his foster father do so many times. The steward’s qi was weak, his heart rate off rhythm.

With all the odds and ends of knowledge Kaifeng had gleaned from Old Guo’s shop, he’d yet to actually heal anyone. Even now, he knew Yuan Lo would soon start vomiting. The pain in his insides would become unbearable and he could be dead within hours or days.

“If you didn’t swallow too much poison, there might be a chance,” he offered, but his tone was less than confident.

The steward shoved Kaifeng away. “No, Constable. This is how it should be.”

Suddenly his eyes squeezed shut and the same hand that had just pushed him away grabbed onto his sleeve and held on until his knuckles were white. After the spasm passed, Yuan opened his eyes, which now glistened with unshed tears.

“I’m getting old, with no children of my own. I have nothing waiting for me but a lifetime of loneliness. That bastard...that bastard had everything! He had to take the one thing I cared about from me. The one person who mattered.”

The sound of his sobbing filled the cell. Yuan had resolved to die, but Kaifeng could see the fear in his eyes. There was no dignity or pride left. Everything that Yuan had yet to feel, he would feel it now, in these last few moments.

“Uncle.” Kaifeng didn’t know why he chose the familiar address, for use among two strangers. “I know of another remedy. One that acts quickly. Not a cure, but...but something for the pain.”

There was understanding in the old man’s eyes and even gratitude. As if Kaifeng’s offer was the best that fate had presented him in a long, long time.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

OF ALL THINGS, Mingyu found herself sewing among other ladies. Sewing.

She looked up to see her sister focused on a peony design and Wei-wei meticulously creating a decorative border around her handkerchief.

“They have been away for less than an hour,” Yue-ying chided, not looking up from the red petal she was working on.

Mingyu felt as if ten hours had passed while she tried to focus on a butterfly pattern to distract herself. It was useless. She set it down to watch her sister. “You never used to sew.”

“Bai Furen has been teaching me. When your time is your own, you have a lot of it.”

Yue-ying smiled at her and Mingyu couldn’t help but smile back, her heart swelling with affection. Her sister had spent too many years either as someone’s slave or servant. There could be no better way to say it; this was her time now.

“I’m worried about them,” Mingyu confessed. “General Deng is a fierce warrior. If he senses an ambush, he’ll fight to the death.”

“The constables are all armed. They’ll be protected,” Wei-wei reassured. “This has been quite an adventure these past days. Usually this house is so quiet.”

“I must tell your mother how grateful I am for her hospitality,” Mingyu said.

The lady of the house had told Mingyu that she was family with a bit of stiffness in her spine and bewilderment in her tone. Then Madame Bai had retreated to her private chamber with a headache. She seemed to suffer many of those lately.

This was more than hospitality, it was protection. For the past three days, Mingyu and Kaifeng had walled themselves away from the rest of the world, but it couldn’t remain like this for long. She didn’t belong here.

“That was brilliant what you did this morning.” Wei-wei glowed with admiration. “You put that arrogant official in his place so soundly. I’ve always wanted to put someone like that in his place.” A wistful look crossed her face.

“It’s not as simple as that. A woman can’t insult a man of rank in public without paying a price.” Every moment, Mingyu wondered about the consequences to her actions. How would the inspector retaliate now that she’d wounded his pride? She had to be prepared for anything. “Remember when I said that goodwill was currency in this city? I don’t have much of it, but what little I’ve collected, I used it all.”

“Who was that man, Mingyu?”

She had forgotten that Yue-ying knew little of what happened in the Three Lanes now. “Someone who wanted to own me and imprison me in his garden like a lonely orchid.”

“Insufferable,” Wei-wei agreed.

Yue-ying looked stricken. Her hand flew to her mouth in anguish.

“I don’t think your home is a trap,” Mingyu amended. “Lord Bai adores you and it’s peaceful here. I’m happy for you. Truly.”

Her sister shook her head. Her complexion had drained of color, making the red stain on her face appear more dramatic.

“Little Sister?”

“It’s not that.” Yue-ying swallowed forcibly and took a breath. “I think I might be with child.”

Mingyu nearly stabbed the needle into her thumb. “Oh, dear heaven—”

A tiny smile formed on her sister’s lips. Gradually the smile grew until her whole face lit up. “I know I’m with child. You’re the first person I’ve told.”

“How do you feel?”

“Miserable.”

Together they burst out laughing. Mingyu threw her arms around Yue-ying. “I was so worried—”

She didn’t finish the thought. This wasn’t about her fears and troubles anymore. Mingyu blinked back tears of joy as they embraced.

“Mother will be so happy,” Wei-wei chimed in. Then she grew serious. “But shouldn’t you be lying down if you’re pregnant?”

That was met with another round of laughter and Mingyu felt for the first time in a long time that this was a new beginning. Despite all the unexpected obstacles and tragedies, life would continue.

* * *

SHE WAITED FOR Kaifeng that night, lying awake and listening to the silent house around her. It was late when he finally returned and the household had fallen asleep long ago. Still, Mingyu made an extra effort to remain quiet as she went to Kaifeng’s room.

He became aware of her presence the moment she slipped through the door. Kaifeng swung around with lantern in hand, but relaxed when he saw her. Without a word, she went to him to remove his outer robe, always mindful of his injury. She stripped down to her lightest layer as well and found her way into his arms.

“Yue-ying is with child,” she whispered to him, nestling her head onto his shoulder as they sat on the bed.

His fingers stroked gently over her hair. “This is good news.”

“I’m so happy for her.”

“You didn’t need to worry, after all.”

“I didn’t,” she agreed. “You were right.”

They fit so perfectly like this. Why did they have to make everything else so complicated?

The flicker of the lantern cast hazy shadows over the wall. Mingyu listened to the steady rhythm of Kaifeng’s heartbeat while his fingers followed the curve of her ear. It was a soothing touch. Affectionate more than passionate.

“Lord Bai came home earlier,” she went on. “He said that you found Deng.”

“Deng passed away long before we arrived. The matter is in the hands of the Palace Bureau.”

“It’s done, then.”

Kaifeng stiffened beside her. “Yes, it’s done.”

There was more to the story, but Mingyu didn’t inquire any further. Maybe she didn’t want to ever know.

She wrapped her arms around him and pressed herself close. “I’m glad.”

“You’re safe now. You’re no longer wanted for Deng’s murder.”

He said no more. His hand settled against her lower back to anchor her to him and for a long time, they just were. She wished more than anything that it could remain that way.

“Mingyu.” His fingers ran along her spine, massaging gently. “What is it you wanted to speak about?”

“We’re not completely safe.” She tried to slow her breathing and soften into his embrace, but failed. “Madame Sun is asking for me. We can’t hide here forever.”

“You spoke once of escaping the city,” he reminded her.

“But you refused to come.”

“Things have changed.”

Her throat went dry. She had never struggled so hard to find words before. “Are you...are you saying you would leave with me?”

“Are you willing to go?” Kaifeng asked.

They danced around one another, refusing to touch. She thought of Yue-ying, this vast city that had become their home, and how hard she had fought to establish her position within it.

“If I stay here, I’ll remain a slave,” she said.

“Yes.”

But to be free she would have to give up everything.

“I could never return,” she continued, her voice sounding faint and hollow in the darkness. “If I did, Madame would claim me.”

“The only way for us to be together is to go.”

“I know.” She hid her face against his neck.

“But Yue-ying will need you when her child is born. And the only way you can be here for her is at The Lotus Palace. There Madame Sun offers you security in exchange for your obedience.”

With each argument Kaifeng laid out, she could hear his tone hardening.

“What are trying to do?” she demanded. “Convince me not to go with you?”

“I’m saying all the things you’re refusing to say out loud.”

Heat rose up her neck. “I don’t need you to speak on my behalf.”

She shoved at his chest, but Kaifeng held on to her. “Then tell me, Mingyu. Will you leave Changan? Will you go with me?”

Mingyu stopped struggling. Even though she remained completely still, her heart pounded away. Her head filled with the sound of her own fear.

To be free she would have to give up everything.

“I can’t,” she choked out.

Kaifeng let go of her, his arm slipping away from her shoulder.

“I can’t go yet.” She tried to amend her answer, but it was too late.

“This has always been a passing moment between us, hasn’t it? It has meant nothing to you.”

“It has meant everything to me.”

She hated how calm he sounded and how desperate she sounded. As if all the pieces fit together logically in his head while her heart was in pieces. Mingyu was still curled against his side, but they might as well have been on opposite sides of a canyon.

“Will you stay, then?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“I can’t.”

His answer was an eerie echo of her own.

“For a little while,” she pleaded. “Until I figure out how to get Madame Sun to release me.”

“What would we do? Will you stay at the Lotus Palace, entertaining wealthy patrons, and then steal away to my bed when the mood strikes?”

“You have a way of making everything sound vulgar.” But it didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. In those stolen moments, they could still have each other. It was more than she had ever had before.

“Mingyu, I can’t continue the way things were.” This time he did pull away from her. Coldness poured over her the moment he left.

“I can’t wait for life to happen to me any longer. I was dismissed as constable, but even if I hadn’t been, something happened today. I sat beside a man I hardly knew while he waited to die. At the moment, I was his son, his nephew, his only friend in the world. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a witness to the lives of others.”

“You’re getting philosophical,” she said impatiently. “Does that even mean anything?”

He kissed her then. Leaned in, swept her up in his arms and kissed her. Holding back nothing so she knew he meant it.

“It means I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything,” he said with a fierceness that shook her, but he cut her off when she tried to reply. “It also means I can’t stay here because of it. Your memory would always haunt me. I would want to wallow in that pain rather than seek happiness.”

She was on the verge of tears. “But will you be any happier apart?”

“You’re accustomed to men despairing for your attentions, Mingyu. You think such torture is a sign of devotion.”

“That’s not true.”

It wasn’t true, was it?

“Every time you’ve come to me, you’ve been driven by unhappiness, Mingyu.” He cradled her face in his hands so tenderly that she ached inside. “That isn’t what I want from you.”

“Kaifeng.” His name came out as a sob. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“You’re free of General Deng. You’re free of Xi Lun. You fought him and you’ve won. So what need do you have of me any longer?”

“I do need you. Why do you have to make this so difficult?”

“Because you’re lying to yourself now, Mingyu, as well as to me.”

His tone was gentle, but the sentiment was harsh. As harsh as anyone had ever been to her. Mingyu felt the wall building around her and coldness seeping into her veins. “You don’t know what you’re speaking of. All my life I’ve been plotting my freedom—establishing a name for myself so I’d be more than some lowly song girl, hiding away money.”

“Which you used to redeem your sister rather than yourself.”

“It wasn’t possible to redeem my bond. The price is—”

“Too high,” Kaifeng interrupted. “I know. You’re too valuable, Mingyu. Your time is precious, your companionship is priceless. Madame Sun will never let you go.”

“It’s all true,” she said weakly. “That’s why I had to run away.”

At first Mingyu had been drawn to Kaifeng because she didn’t need to be artful and charming around him. She had thought him undemanding, but now he demanded everything from her. He was insisting on the truth.

“You sit in gardens and dream of forests,” he murmured, stroking her hair. “But this is where you want to be. In Changan. At the Lotus Palace, admired and worshipped.”

Her hands twisted into the front of his tunic, pressing against his chest and searching for the beat of his heart inside it. “This is where I want to be,” she insisted, forcing back tears. “I’ll go with you now. Today.”

Kaifeng shook his head. Her answer had come too late. “You may need me now, but before long you’ll need someone else just the same.”

Mingyu wanted to tell him he was wrong. She had never felt this way for anyone, but he was resolved. There would be no convincing him.

“You’re not ready to leave this city,” he told her. “And I cannot stay.”

She always complicated things, but everything was so clear to Wu Kaifeng. He stripped away all the layers of nuance and illusion until there was nothing left but the truth and then it became impossible to deny.

Mingyu stared at the hard line of his jaw before her. She planted a kiss against it, too intimidated to touch his lips just yet. When he permitted the touch, she kissed him again, lightly, closer to his chin. Then his throat. Her hands traveled down to his waist.

His voice came from above her, sounding so close yet so far away. “This won’t change things.”

“I know.”

But she still wanted him. She wanted him even more because it would be the only chance they had. She concentrated on his belt so she wouldn’t have to look at his face. If she looked at him, she would fall apart.

Once the clasps were undone, she opened his robe and drew it down his shoulders, freeing his arms. The bruises on him appeared even worse now, darker and angrier. The marks of an unforgiving world. She pressed her lips to his battered flesh in a light caress that was made of breath and warmth. She heard a long sigh come from him. His hand rested against her hair.

She finally looked up at him. “Can we do this without hurting you?”

There was a half-smile on his lips. “The pain would be worth it.”

He helped her remove his clothes as well as hers. Then she paused to look at him, at all of him in the dim light.

Kaifeng was right. It was difficult to look at someone you wanted so badly. It hurt inside. She went to him, climbing into his lap as his arms folded around her. She had thought they would have to be delicate, but Kaifeng dragged her against him as he bent his head to her breast.

He tasted her first, the tip of his tongue flicking over her nipple in a lazy, luxurious circle that made her toes curl and her skin flush. Mingyu combed her fingers through his hair, pulling his top knot loose. Her sigh shuddered through every part of her, releasing her to him.

“Kaifeng,” she whispered his name desperately.

Without warning, the gentleness was gone. He took her nipple into his mouth and suckled, drawing out her pleasure in a sharp, relentless pull. Her back arched against her will, so forceful that it hurt, but the pleasure was still so much greater. He repeated the same attentions on her other breast and she braced her hands against his shoulders, her hands digging deep, as she writhed with ecstasy. Kaifeng was doing this to her so she would never forget, she was sure of it.

When he finally released her she bent to kiss his mouth, to slip her tongue against his. At the same time, his hand found her sex and he parted her, stroking her with his longest finger until she moaned. Her legs straddled his hips and Kaifeng guided her down to him with his hand at her back, the other one opening her to his rigid flesh.

Mingyu reached down to position him against her before sinking down fully. Her entire body shuddered around him as his organ penetrated her. The feeling was indescribable and as her vision blurred she could see Kaifeng watching her, his eyes black with desire, but as sharp as ever.

He was the one claiming her this time. There was no doubt of it as his hands gripped her hips, lifting her and then pulling her onto him, driving her closer to climax. Watching her the entire time.

She tried to hold on to his gaze for as long as she could, but the sensations overwhelmed her. She had to close her eyes to block out everything but the feel of him taking her.

“Give in.” His voice was rough and thick with desire as he spoke against her ear, filling her with the sound of him as well as with his flesh. “Just this once, surrender.”

And she did surrender. Her knees weakened as she shuddered uncontrollably around him. Kaifeng held her throughout, kissing her mouth, taking every last breath and gasp that came from her as his own release came upon him.

Afterward, Mingyu sank her head onto his shoulder, not wanting to let go. His skin was damp, as was hers. She felt as if they had run a hundred li together. Perhaps they had, but it was only in circles.

She didn’t realize she had drifted. She woke once as Kaifeng was lowering her onto the bed beside him. He kissed her forehead and murmured something to her before she fell asleep again.

Mingyu slept the rest of the night, half waking only once to feel Kaifeng’s arms around her. He pulled her closer, tucking her head beneath his chin. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothed her.

When she woke the next morning, they were at opposite ends of the bed. Light streamed in through the paper panes of the window and the thoughts drifted to her one by one: it was morning, Kaifeng lay disrobed and asleep beside her, and she was in her sister’s house.

Mingyu shot up, fully awake. She was in her sister’s house! Or, more significantly, she was in the house of the well-mannered and high-born family that Yue-ying had married into.

She was a guest and this was scandalous. The scandal she didn’t fear as much as being perceived as disrespectful.

Scurrying out of bed, Mingyu hunted down her clothes and put them on as quickly as she could. The bodice presented some difficulty, but once that was on, the layers of her robe draped easily over her. Her sash was nowhere to be seen. She turned around to search for it in the bed and found Kaifeng awake and watching her.

Without a word, he reached beneath his arm and pulled out a length of blue silk that seemed to wind on forever. He handed her the sash and kept his eyes on her while she wrapped it around her waist. It was the same intent look he’d given her while they made love. Her face heated.

“I’ll think of you always, Mingyu.”

Her heart must have stopped in her chest.

“Why are you saying farewell? I’m only returning to my room,” she teased, then hated herself for hiding like that. His words had wounded her and she was desperately trying to mask the pain.

“This will be an eventful day. I wanted to be certain I didn’t forget to tell you.”

After her rush to dress, Mingyu slowed her movements, waiting for Kaifeng to tell her he had reconsidered. Instead, he said nothing.

“When will you go?” she asked, her stomach sinking as she gave in to the inevitable.

“There is nothing keeping me here.”

She thought that a particularly cruel phrase. Kaifeng still hadn’t learned to take care with his words.

“I’m not head constable any longer,” he continued. “Li Yen will need to settle the final details of this case, but I have no further duties here.”

“Will you come back?” What Mingyu meant to ask was whether she’d see him again. It was too painful to think that these moments were their last.

He looked up at the ceiling. “Perhaps after enough time has passed.”

She noticed how the light fell over him, cutting over his face and down his bare torso in one bright line. He was beautiful to her then. The way mountains were beautiful. Because they were there. Because no two were alike. Because they were unattainable.

“It’s my hope not to see you then.” He turned only his head to look at her. “I hope that you’ll be long gone when I return. It would mean you’ve found what you need to be free.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

IT WAS NOT easy to walk away from Mingyu, but he would have lost her regardless.

Kaifeng was certain of that when he heard her playing at the Lotus Palace just a few evenings later. He couldn’t see her as he listened from the street. There was no place for him in the parlors of the courtesan houses. He only knew it was Mingyu from the quality of her playing and the nature of the song. The melody was layered and sorrowful, meant to invoke deep emotion within her audience. It certainly did in him.

The music stopped and was followed by the hum of conversation. The ring of a woman’s laughter filled the night. Kaifeng wasn’t certain if that was Mingyu, but it didn’t matter. The sound cut through him, twisting inadvertently through vital organs. He walked on.

There was pitifully little for him to put in order before leaving the city. Only the small matter of a ruined teahouse that no one wanted. If he could manage a few strings of cash from that sale, he would have enough to get him to the eastern capital of Luoyang. It was a large enough city where a man with a varied set of skills could find a place for himself.

He left the Pingkang li and found his way back to the Golden Flower Tavern. Colorful banners hung over the balcony and the usual crowd was there. Nothing had changed for them. Li Yen was waiting for him in one of the private rooms.

“I wanted to speak away from the offices of the tribunal,” Li admitted. “Inspector Xi is still hovering about until the records are complete on this case.”

The conversation halted as servers brought in a wealth of dishes and platters. A pair of pretty girls stayed to pour wine, but the magistrate waved them away. “Unless you wanted them to stay for a bit,” Li offered as an afterthought.

Kaifeng shot him a pointed look.

“Yes, well, let’s eat first.”

They had shared a few meals during their association and it was always an awkward affair. This was no different. Kaifeng focused on his bowl of rice while Li chattered away about the petitions on his desk, cases he’d presided over that day, odd details he’d gleaned from records.

“You’re rather silent this evening, Wu.”

“Do I ever say much?”

“No, but you’re quieter than usual.”

Kaifeng made a sound that was meant to indicate he was thinking, but he could see where it sounded more like a grunt.

“I’ll miss these conversations between us,” Li said with a grin. “Any final advice?”

“Smile less often. People will take you more seriously.”

The grin disappeared. “You know I can reinstate you as constable.”

“I’m grateful, but my path lies elsewhere.” Kaifeng wasn’t certain exactly where, but he knew his life couldn’t continue as it had before.

“I understand. Thankless job. The pay isn’t impressive...I hear.” Li cleared his throat loudly and fidgeted with his wine cup. Kaifeng doubted the magistrate had any notion of his wages or even the cost of a sack of rice in the marketplace.

Li continued in a more somber tone, his magistrate’s tone. “There is something I wanted to discuss with you. I mentioned that Inspector Xi was still about.”

That name still made him grind his teeth. “Yes?”

“I was reading this account that you dictated to the clerk. I thought I should ask you about it before submitting it for inspection.” Reaching into the front of his robe, Li pulled out a booklet folded into four panels and started to read. “‘When I arrived, Yuan Lo was on the floor. He claimed to have swallowed poison. He died shortly after.’”

Li glanced up at him.

“That was all,” Kaifeng confirmed.

“That was all? What about all the other details you usually include?”

“That was exactly what happened.”

With a sigh, Li folded up the mostly blank report. “Did you give the steward poison, Wu?”

“No, he must have smuggled it in himself.”

“Why didn’t you call anyone when you saw he was in such a condition?”

“What difference would it have made? Yuan wanted to end his own life in privacy to avoid the tribunal and any public scandal. If I hadn’t come, no one would have found him until it was long over.”

“The guards said you left and then returned. You reported Yuan had passed away shortly after. What happened, Wu?”

“Yuan Lo took his own life.” Li looked satisfied until Kaifeng added, “I did give him a concoction to aid his passing.”

Li Yen rubbed a hand over his temples, visibly pained. “The deed was already done. Why give the Censorate something to hang on to?”

“No one cares to investigate this death, the death of a lowly servant. Deng Zhi was the only reason anyone cared about this investigation. There’s no more glory to be had here. Inspector Xi Lun will move on.”

“I see your point,” Li conceded. He smoothed his hands over the final report to signal closure.

“I didn’t kill the mill owner in Suzhou, either.”

The magistrate’s moment of calm disappeared. Snatching up his wine, he downed it in one gulp and set the cup onto the table before sitting back to listen.

“I left Suzhou after closing Old Guo’s shop. Months later I heard of an accident at the mill and that the magistrate was searching for me. I knew then I could never return to the prefecture.”

“But you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“When you learned of it, didn’t you find me suspicious? So did the magistrate because of our earlier investigation. Look at my size, Li. Look at this face. The magistrate already didn’t like me because I dared to question him.”

So he had left that part of his life behind, never to return. Much as he was doing now.

“There is certainly fate between us. I have no doubt I will see you again,” Li said, pouring wine for both of them. “And I am grateful you’ve confided in me.”

“I am grateful to speak the truth.”

His next breath felt lighter, as if the soul did carry the weight of its wrongs. He took the cup that Li Yen offered.

“One more thing.” The words were more difficult than Kaifeng had anticipated. “I should have said this earlier, but you should know I consider you a friend, as well.”

Li looked surprised and then pleased. “Ah! Right when you’re about to abandon me to the wolves.”

They drank together. After he downed his wine, Li set his overturned cup onto the table with a flourish. All gone. Kaifeng repeated the gesture, albeit a bit late.

The sight of the two wine cups, set side by side in a fraternal gesture, triggered something in Kaifeng. He was indeed connected to this tavern, to Li Yen, to Changan. To much more than he ever realized.

When Old Guo had called him a good son, Kaifeng had been speechless. He never realized the physician felt that way. Before Kaifeng could respond in kind, Old Guo had taken his own life. Kaifeng had gone for so long thinking that he was alone in this world and that his secrets and troubles were his own.

“Let’s drink until we pass out,” Li rallied. “That’s what friends do.”

Kaifeng respectfully declined. “I have something I must take care of first thing tomorrow. An important matter that cannot be ignored any longer.”

* * *

IT WAS EASIER than Mingyu wanted to admit, returning to the Pingkang li and the private world beneath the glow of the red lanterns. Madame Sun took her back without a single cross word. They didn’t speak of it at all. Mingyu had shown up at the Lotus Palace one morning and walked through the entrance hall and up the stairs to her room. Madame Sun had emerged from the parlor to watch her procession, but said nothing.

Mingyu’s sitting room was full of guests that very same night.

No one noticed that her playing was flat and unfocused, with her hands moving of their own accord. When she tried to compose poetic verses, they came out uninspired. The gentlemen-scholars praised her just as fervently, making her wonder if she ever had any talent at all.

She thought of Kaifeng, day and night.

On the third night since they had parted, she found herself on the rooftop pavilion where they had first kissed, staring into the street below.

“This is infatuation, Mingyu,” she whispered.

Despite all that Kaifeng had said about leaving, part of her still waited for him to come to her. This was all part of the dance of courtship. But Wu Kaifeng didn’t care for such games. The footsteps upon the stairs were not his.

She moved to the table that had been set up at the center of the pavilion just as Inspector Xi Lun came to stand at the opposite end. They bowed to each other and seated themselves upon the pillows. Mingyu poured the tea and Xi Lun proceeded to sip one fragrant bowl after another for the next half hour while no conversation passed between them.

Mingyu tried hard not to smile. For the first time, a guest was obviously miserable in her company and she was thoroughly enjoying it.

Xi Lun had tried to communicate with her on several occasions, but she had refused to speak to him or answer any letters. In the end, he’d gone to Madame Sun to request her time.

“Ask for triple the price,” Mingyu had told Mother, who happily went along.

Xi had paid it and now he was here. This very meeting was an act of defiance on his part. Everyone in the Pingkang li knew that she had declared war on him.

“I’ve been transferred,” he announced when half the hour had passed.

“Is that so?” she purred.

His lip curled. “To the eastern end of the Gansu corridor, where wild animals and barbarians thrive.”

The worst assignment possible for an imperial official.

“My congratulations.” She offered him more tea, but Xi Lun refused to touch it.

“Was this your doing?” he demanded.

“One creates his own fate, does he not?” she countered.

Inspector Xi glared at her while Mingyu folded her hands and presented him with a serene expression.

She spoke the truth. What could a courtesan do, but make a casual observation here, a careless remark there? All she had to do was reinforce complaints about Xi Lun that already existed among the bureaucrats in Changan.

“I have a gift for you, Inspector,” she said to break the silence.

His eyebrow lifted. “I have reason to be wary of your gifts.”

Inspector Xi begrudgingly accepted the wooden case that she handed over to him. Mingyu had made an effort to find one similar to the box he had given her. She waited expectantly as he lifted the lid to take out the scroll inside. The paper was of the highest quality. The calligraphy was in her very best hand, her heart in every word.

They will stop talking about you when you go away.

The inspector didn’t read the words aloud, but he stared at them for a long time before rolling the scroll up and placing it neatly back into the box. He finished his tea and left before the hour was done.

With her time already accounted and paid for, Mingyu spent the rest of it leaning against the painted column and looking down into the street. Hoping to catch a glimpse of the man that, with all her wiles, Mingyu had been unable to hold on to.

* * *

“A WOMAN HAS to be careful, Mingyu.”

Mingyu focused on her mixing bowl while Madame Sun dispensed her wisdom. Madame had sent two of the younger girls out to gather flower petals that morning and now the entire house was occupied preparing various shades of dye for their nails. Madame Sun had taken the opportunity to sit beside Mingyu and though she never spoke directly of Mingyu’s temporary departure from the Lotus, her meaning was clear.

“At first, it seems so easy to follow your heart,” Madame counseled.

“Yes, Mother.”

“You think to yourself that no one knows how good this feels. But Mother understands. Remember Ziyi and her beloved scholar? She thought he would take her away to a new life.”

Ziyi was in the corner and well within hearing distance. She shot Madame a narrow glance before tossing more rose petals into her bowl. The pounding of her pestle took on a decidedly more pronounced rhythm.

“This isn’t necessary.” Mingyu sighed. They had all heard this advice before, directed each time to whoever had recently suffered some disappointment or heartache.

Madame was insistent. “You think you love this man right now. Mother was young once. She knows what it is like to feel that burning inside of you. In the moment, there is nothing that can compare. No taste as sweet as his lips, no song as touching as his voice.”

This was their cynical, shrewd, single-minded headmistress. Mingyu sometimes forgot that Madame Sun had been yiji once, as well. She had sung songs for the elite of society and recited poetry just as her foster daughters did now.

“When you must part, it’s like dying,” Madame went on. “I know this, Mingyu. I know. But with time, that feeling of loss which feels as big as the world becomes small, as small as a grain of sand. You may feel it from time to time, to remind you of what was, but you learn that it’s not everything.”

“I’m not in love with him, Mother,” she said bluntly. “We parted because of it.”

Madame gave her an approving look. “That’s fortunate. It’s good to not be blinded by romantic feelings. We have to make decisions as rational women, not as lovesick girls.”

Had she and Kaifeng ever spoken of love? They hadn’t even allowed for the possibility.

The fresh flower petals in Mingyu’s bowl had been ground into a red paste. Once the stain was prepared, they would dip their fingertips into it and remain there for an hour until the color set. All this effort to enchant men whom they weren’t supposed to want in the first place.

“I knew you would see reason sooner or later. You were always practical, considering every action so carefully.”

The headmistress meant it as praise, but Mingyu could see her own weaknesses laid bare. Madame Sun had known all along Mingyu couldn’t bring herself to leave. The headmistress hadn’t even bothered to alert the magistrate when Mingyu had run away. Madame had simply bided her time.

“Running to a man isn’t independence,” Madame went on. “It’s the worst sort of confinement there is. Am I right, Mingyu?”

She sighed. “Let us talk about something else, Mother. This topic is tiresome.”

Outwardly, Mingyu was the Empress of the quarter once more, but inside she mourned. The entire time with Kaifeng, Mingyu had thought she was so careful. Always making sure that she was the one who felt less than him, who promised less than him, who loved less. If she even could love at all.

Her eyes were wide open the entire time, Mingyu had insisted, and yet she’d still been blind. Kaifeng had gotten inside of her. He was the only one who had truly seen what she was beneath the powder and the silk. But what he had seen hadn’t been enough to convince him to stay.

Mingyu had to admit, she’d given him little reason to remain in Changan.

Madame Sun was too clever. By expressing all the emotions Mingyu held on to inside, she had taken away their power. This was just heartache. One heart broken out of a thousand. This was just loneliness.

As much as Madame’s counsel irritated her, Mingyu knew her foster mother was right. Being a courtesan might mean a life of servitude, but it wasn’t the streets. It wasn’t hunger or helplessness, if one learned their lessons well enough. Mingyu had spent a lifetime becoming who she was. How would she get by if she went with Wu Kaifeng? After the initial rush of desire settled, what sort of life could they possibly have together?

Mingyu didn’t know the answer. She hadn’t ever felt that rush of desire for anyone—until now. And just as Madame warned, her heart was stubborn and insistent: Why couldn’t they have whatever sort of life they wanted? She was Lady Mingyu. She was admired and coveted by scholars and officials.

But that was all she knew. That was all she could be, an object of desire.

She finished mixing the petals with a special powder to set the color, then added melted wax to create a coating. Once done, Mingyu dipped her fingers into the bowl and prepared to wait. At that moment, a message arrived for her.

As the only one with hands that were not coated in red dye, Madame accepted the letter as well as the liberty of opening it. “A summons to the Deng mansion,” she reported.

“From Deng’s widow? Why should she want to see me?”

Deng Furen had accused her of courting scandal the last time they’d spoken.

“Well, you have to go. It would be impolite not to.”

Madame approached her privately as Mingyu scrubbed the vermilion stain from her hands an hour later.

“We need to prepare for this evening’s guests and everyone will be very busy. Can I trust you to make the trip alone?”

Madame regarded her with the eyes of a hawk as she awaited Mingyu’s answer. It was a test.

“Of course, Mother,” Mingyu replied obediently. “I will return as soon as possible.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

EVERY PAIR OF hands was busy at the Deng mansion. The vases and paintings in the parlor had all been taken down and packed away. Servants draped canvas sheets over the furniture.

Deng’s widow located Mingyu from amid the activity.

“Come out to the garden where it’s quiet,” she implored.

They seated themselves beneath the pavilion which overlooked the fish pond. Mingyu glanced around the garden, which seemed at once familiar and unfamiliar.

“So my husband was already dead as I said. All that headache of opening the mausoleum and stirring up so much trouble for no reason.”

“My sincerest apologies,” Mingyu conceded. “I must have been distraught to think otherwise.”

Outside of their inner circle, only Deng’s wife and son knew that there had been a second investigation. The official word was that the general had been beheaded by assassins and his bodyguards killed, as well. It wasn’t too far from the truth, though it was Deng who had sacrificed his own bodyguards in an attempt to save himself.

“As I said before, Lady Mingyu, you were always loyal to our family. I know you meant no harm.”

Tea arrived on a tray and Mingyu realized, with some dismay, that the woman intended to take some time with their conversation.

As Deng Furen spoke, her face was a mask, clean of all emotion. “We have suffered such tragedy here. You remember our servant Yuan Lo? He was taken in for questioning by the magistrate and fell ill in prison. The ordeal was too much for him and he passed away. I believe his soul wanted to follow his master.”

“Yuan was always a loyal and diligent servant,” Mingyu recalled.

“I don’t know if my husband ever spoke of my family. Our surname is Chen. We made our fortune through generations of trade in Guangdong province to the south. My marriage was arranged to Deng Zhi because he had shown promise in his military career. My husband had the Emperor’s favor, but he had no wealth in his coffers to recommend him. Though we married, my family felt Deng Zhi wasn’t quite worthy of them until he began to climb the ranks of the imperial court. He had a glorious career, did he not?”

Mingyu murmured in agreement.

“But how quickly the wind can change. We will be leaving Changan at the end of the week.” She performed a cursory survey of the courtyard. “The imperial court will be taking charge of this property. In return, they’ll allow us to relocate and establish ourselves near my family in the south. There will no longer be a Deng residence in the capital.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Furen.”

Deng’s widow continued without any hint of grief or regret. “Though no one has called it such, I know this is banishment. But I’ll be able to remain with my son. We have our lives to take with us. Emperors come and go. Time has a short memory. If Enlai works diligently and establishes himself, one day he will redeem the Deng name.”

“I am certain your son will go on to great things.”

“It really is better this way,” Deng Furen assured her.

Mingyu frowned, not quite following. “Better in which way?”

“That my husband died when he did, by the hands of some crazed assassin. All this talk of conspiracy and rebellion is nonsense. He was already gone when these rumors began, after all.”

A shudder ran down her spine. Deng Furen was acting peculiar. She continued speaking with the same quiet insistence.

“No matter what rumors people tried to start about him, Deng Zhi was a hero. He was given a state funeral to honor his service to the empire. That is what people will remember about him. Deng Enlai will always know he is the son of a great man.”

“That is how I will always remember him.”

“Then we are in agreement.” Solemnly, the widow held out an embroidered silk purse. “Please take this parting gift from our family.”

Mingyu took the purse with as much grace as she could summon. The weight of it sank into her hand.

“I can’t accept this.”

“I insist. For your service to our family. You have always been loyal, like Yuan Lo.”

Like Yuan Lo.

Her hand flew to her throat. Like everyone else, Mingyu accepted the story that the steward had sought revenge for his master. Yuan had confessed to the crimes and no one cared to ask any more questions, but someone besides the steward, someone General Deng had trusted, could have slipped the poison into his wine. The same person could very easily be the one who smuggled the tainted rice cake into Yuan’s cell.

Deng Furen pinned her with a sharp look. “I only ask that if you speak of my husband at all, speak well of him, otherwise remain silent. Men hang on your every word and I cannot have any rumors arising. This is for the sake of my son and his future.”

Deng’s wife certainly had the strength of will to silence Yuan Lo and even her own husband, if it meant the survival of her son. There was no way for Mingyu to be certain of it, but maybe it didn’t matter in the end.

She fingered the purse while the other woman’s intense scrutiny bore into her. Deng’s wife had been a force in Mingyu’s life for almost as long as Madame Sun, a constant presence in the shadows.

For a long time, her survival had depended on negotiating between husband and wife, being pleasant and beguiling to Deng while not presenting a threat to his wife. It was time to finally free herself from Deng’s ghost, from his wife, from all the chains that had held her down.

“Perhaps silence is best.” Her hands closed around the purse. This was blood money and she was going to take it. “Thank you for your generosity, Deng Furen.”

“Go in peace, Lady Mingyu. I believe this is the last we’ll see of each other.”

* * *

WHEN SHE RETURNED to the Lotus Palace, Mingyu went directly to Madame Sun’s study and set the purse onto the desk in front of her. The silver landed with a heavy thud.

“I wish to redeem myself.”

Madame’s gaze flicked up to her. She opened the purse and peered inside before closing it and pushing it back toward Mingyu. “That’s not nearly enough. You’re worth ten times that amount to me.”

“Then we’ll negotiate a fair price, Mother. I will pay it and you will relinquish my bond.”

The headmistress rose so she was eye to eye with Mingyu. “Have I not treated you well?”

“Well enough, and I’ve more than repaid you,” she replied, no longer relying on charm to deal with the headmistress. “You told me that women were slaves outside of the Pingkang li. Without the Lotus Palace, I would be no more than a man’s servant or concubine or whore. But I’m a slave here, as well.”

“You’re not a slave.”

“All my life you’ve spoken of how much you paid for me and how much you’ve continued to pay. You’ve inflated my debt to some unimaginable amount and I’ve allowed it. Now open your ledger book and tell me the number.”

Madame bit into her lip and shook her head. “There is no number. Don’t you realize you’re like a daughter to me, Mingyu?”

She appeared genuinely stricken which was nothing more than an act.

“Stop, Mother. I know all of your tricks.”

“But it’s not a trick. This is the truth.” There was sadness in Madame’s eyes as she came around the desk. “Of all my girls, you were the one most like me. I saw it from the beginning. You never showed any fear, even when you were first brought to Changan. Your sister cried and clung to you, but you didn’t shed a tear even when they took her away.”

“I cried that night when I was alone,” Mingyu said defiantly. What was Madame trying to say? That she was meant for this life?

“Of course you cried. We all cry, but you understood even then not to show any weakness. I knew one day you would have the world at your feet.”

It was easy to be wooed by her words. Xi Lun had painted a picture of her as a pretty thing, lonely and helpless, but Madame’s vision of her was so much more enticing. It was a vision where Mingyu was enchanting and powerful and beloved. Together they would fool them all.

“This is not my world any longer,” Mingyu told her quietly. “It’s time to go.”

Madame’s shoulders sank. “I was afraid this would happen when your sister married. I let her stay here because I wanted you to be happy, Mingyu. I wanted you to take over the Lotus Palace when I’m gone.”

“To buy and train young girls who were taken from their families?”

“You and your sister were sold. You and so many other girls. Isn’t this a better life than the one you left behind?”

The question cut directly to her heart and Mingyu couldn’t deny the truth. Her own mother hadn’t wanted her, but Madame did. For that alone, Mingyu had allowed herself to be chained all these years.

“I have money saved away.” Mingyu hated that there were tears in her eyes, but she wouldn’t waver this time. She gestured toward the purse on the desk. “More than this. You can have it all, Mother.”

“Keep it.” Madame’s reply was rough with emotion. She turned away to stare at the painting on the wall. “Someone has already redeemed your bond.”

“How could you—” Her throat closed up. She was finally ready to fight for her freedom and Madame had already sold her?

“Not like that!” Madame went to her cabinet to pull out a box. “He came to me days ago and said he wanted you released from servitude.”

The container was fashioned of plain wood, nothing special to look at, but when Mingyu opened the lid, an array of jade pieces lay inside.

“Wu Kaifeng,” Mingyu whispered. He hadn’t told her about the jade, but she knew it was him.

“I can’t imagine where a man like that would get so much wealth,” Madame went on. “I figured it was better not to ask in case he stole it. Or killed someone for it.”

“Don’t talk about him like that, Mother.”

Mingyu ran her hands over the green stone, her heart in her throat. A few of the pieces were as large as her fist, worth little now as rough as they were. Once carved and polished they would command a sizable fortune.

“Still not enough to buy you, but enough to ease the pain of losing you,” Madame said with a snort. She came up beside Mingyu. “It’s him, isn’t it? The man you don’t love.”

“I don’t love him,” she echoed hollowly, barely able to breathe. Her chest felt like those heavy pieces of jade had been dropped onto it.

She was lying to herself again. If Kaifeng were here, he wouldn’t have allowed it. Wu Kaifeng, the man whom she had never been able to hide from. Kaifeng with his rough, unfinished edges. The only man who would want her to be free, but didn’t want to own her.

“I have to go.”

Mingyu turned and did just that, leaving the Lotus Palace and the Pingkang li behind. There was nothing holding her back this time.

* * *

KAIFENG BRACED HIS foot against the edge of the rooftop and placed a thatch of straw over the bare spot. The straw was all he could afford at the moment. Without his constable’s wages, his funds had drained quickly. He was reaching for the next bundle when he heard footsteps below. He heard them hurrying through the main room of the former teahouse, then up the stairs and down again.

“Wu Kaifeng, where are you?”

By the time Mingyu appeared down in the garden below, his heart was pounding so hard he thought it would burst. She looked left and right through the garden.

“Mingyu,” he called down.

She swung around and stared up at him, her face streaked with tears. “Why didn’t you tell me you had gone to Madame Sun?”

He repositioned himself so he could face her. “You needed to decide for yourself. I didn’t want to sway you.”

“This is courtship, Kaifeng. You’re supposed to be persuasive.”

“This is courtship?”

Her gaze narrowed on him as if she was preparing to wring his neck. “Why are you up there?” she asked finally, apparently too irritated with his last question to give an answer.

“I need to repair the leaks before the next rain.”

For the first time since he’d known her, Mingyu appeared uncertain, almost shy. “Then you’re not leaving?”

“No one wanted this place.”

Mingyu looked up at him, lost and overcome and more beautiful than he’d ever seen her. There was no death hanging over them, no crime to solve. There was simply the two of them and all the possibilities the world could offer.

“I want it,” she whispered.

Kaifeng couldn’t climb down fast enough.

Mingyu waited at the foot of the ladder. When he finally stood before her, his heart was so full he didn’t know what to say.

“You’re wrong about why I came to you. It wasn’t because I was unhappy,” she insisted, even though her nose was red. Even though her eyes were swollen.

“I was wrong,” he admitted, taking her face in his hands as gently as he could. He ran his thumbs over the elegant curves of her cheekbones, the line of her jaw. “I didn’t know how to recognize it. The first time you smiled at me, genuinely smiled, I was happy. When we kissed on the rooftop of the Lotus, that was happiness. When you confided in me about your sister. When I hear you play.” With each reply, he drew her closer until she was held tight against him. “I’m never happier than when you tease me mercilessly. And now, Mingyu. I’m happy now.”

She raised herself onto her toes and he bent to capture her lips. Mingyu was perfect in his arms, soft, feminine, a wonder. Just as his blood heated, she broke away.

“You’re a demon, Kaifeng. I was heartbroken. I pined over you.”

“You did?” His heart shouldn’t have warmed at that, but it did. “I wasn’t certain you’d come. I was convinced that you never would have sought me out if you had any choice, but for a long time I didn’t care why you were there. Only that you were.”

“Don’t you see?” She took hold of the front of his robe to pull him toward her. “You’re the only one I ever wanted.”

“Even if there’s no reason for it.”

“But there is.” Mingyu wrapped her arms around him and he breathed in the fragrance of her hair, the faint scent of jasmine mingled with the gold-and-green scent of autumn. “I’ll tell you all of my reasons and when I’m done, we’ll have gone gray together and you won’t doubt any longer.”

All his life, Kaifeng had failed to recognize until too late who were the people that mattered. Not this time. He held Mingyu against him. Not this time.

Mingyu sat him down on the stone in the center of the place that had once been a garden. When he put his arms around her once more, Mingyu didn’t speak of the past or the why and how of what had brought them there.

“Let’s talk of something else,” she said. “Let’s talk about what happens tomorrow.”

EPILOGUE

MINGYU LIFTED HER ink brush and stared down at the square of colored paper before her. She was sitting in her favorite spot in the garden. Now that it was spring, the first flowers with their pink-and-yellow blooms were starting to appear.

The teahouse was no longer a dilapidated ruin, but a home that she and Kaifeng had worked on together throughout the fall and winter. They hoped it would soon become more than that.

She was seated at one of the tables they had set up where guests could enjoy tea while looking out into the garden. Potential guests, at least. The tables were empty for now as well as the ones in the main room.

The idea had come to them when she had tried to pay Kaifeng back for the jade he had given to Madame Sun.

“You know I can’t bear to be indebted to you,” she had told him, dragging out the stash of silver and coins she had collected over the years.

“But the jade didn’t belong to me,” he had replied.

So they had set about using the remaining money to build their new life. Kaifeng would create special blends of tea and spiced wine with his knowledge of herbs. Mingyu would provide conversation and poetry. It had seemed so easy at first, until it wasn’t.

Much of their new life had revolved around fixing and furnishing the teahouse as well as reviving the garden. The silver went quicker than they thought it would. It was a very different life for both of them, Mingyu no longer supported by wealthy patrons and Kaifeng no longer earning a wage as constable. By wintertime, they were accounting for each and every coin that went out.

But the work had been worth it, Mingyu thought as she looked back at the teahouse. The appearance was understated, nothing like the opulence of the Lotus Palace. The floors and walls were bare wood Kaifeng sanded himself, working diligently and methodically. The scrolls on the walls were in her own hand.

The garden had presented the toughest challenge. Mingyu had tended it for months, pulling weeds and crabgrass and planting seeds. It was much harder to get things to grow than she had first assumed, but now the grounds resembled the peaceful and elegant landscape of her dreams.

Usually sitting out in the garden would calm her, but today nothing was coming easily. Mingyu had her ink stone set out before her and a set of papers beside it. She needed to create invitations for the opening of their teahouse, but her calligraphy wasn’t flowing. The characters appeared inelegant and forced. Impatiently, she snatched up the paper before her and crumpled it into a ball.

Kaifeng came out into the garden to stand beside her, careful to keep his shadow out of her way. “Do you really think your sister wouldn’t come if the writing wasn’t perfect?”

“But what if no one comes?” she fretted.

“Of course they will. You’re Lady Mingyu, beautiful and unattainable.”

Mingyu smiled at Kaifeng’s slight emphasis on the unattainable part. She was starting to catch hints of his dry sense of humor, so subtle that it was nonexistent to most.

“You don’t know how it is. Notoriety fades quickly in the Three Lanes.” Dipping her brush, she started the invitation again. “You may enjoy favor one season and be shunned the next.”

Already she could see this invitation would be crumpled up, as well. “We can use the discarded papers as tinder,” she said with a sigh.

“You’re overly anxious.” Kaifeng took the brush from her hand and set it onto the holder. “Perhaps this will help.”

Mingyu finally spied the wooden case he’d set down at the next table. Clearing away the writing implements, he brought the box over and set it down before her.

The sun seemed to shine brighter. “What is this?”

“This is courtship.”

Kaifeng wasn’t smiling when she looked up at him. If anything, he looked as anxious and uncertain as she felt as he waited for her to open his gift.

“But we’re already married,” she protested, though she was unable to hide her excitement.

She ran her hands covetously over the polished wood. There had been little in the way of luxury over the last five months. Their wedding had been a small affair at the teahouse, with Yue-ying and Bai Huang in attendance as well as Li Yen and a few other friends. Winter had been a cold one with just enough charcoal to get by and plenty of huddling together at night.

Kaifeng said he didn’t mind that part so much. Neither did she.

When Mingyu lifted the lid from the case, she nearly wept at the sight of the instrument. It was a qin fashioned of dark empress wood, the silk strings yet untouched. She had left hers behind at the Lotus Palace. Her instruments and all of the implements of her trade had belonged to Madame Sun.

“I commissioned this from an instrument-maker in the Chongren ward,” Kaifeng said.

Unable to hold back, Mingyu ran her fingers over the strings to hear them sing. The purity and depth of the sound spoke to the quality of the instrument.

“But this is more than we can afford.”

“The craftsman gave me a good price when he heard Lady Mingyu would be playing it,” Kaifeng assured. Then after a pause, “You’ll have to play well or we won’t eat next month.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, not certain whether that last remark was a jest or not.

“We’ll find a way,” she said, breathing deep.

“There’s always a solution.” Kaifeng directed her attention back to the qin. “The craftsman told me we should inscribe a poem on the back, but I didn’t know any poems. I tried my best.”

Curious, Mingyu turned the base around. A single character had been etched onto the wood. Happiness.

She really was going to weep.

“I’m so out of practice,” she choked out, trying and utterly failing to sound composed.

Kaifeng’s hand rested on her shoulder, his thumb stroking her neck reassuringly, lovingly. “You can play for me now, if you’d like.”

Mingyu did exactly that, with just the two of them alone in their garden that they had created. A hopeful song of spring and celebration floated through the air, finally lifting all her fears away.

* * * * *

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ISBN-13: 9781460327081

THE JADE TEMPTRESS

Copyright © 2014 by Jeannie Lin

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