by J C Kang
At this hour, the Seedlings would be cleaning the first floor, cleaning the house for guests tonight. The Florets would be in the upper chambers, helping Blossoms prepare to receive Hummingbirds. While sneaking Tian in to see the common room would’ve been impossible given the boy’s limited skill set, it came second nature to Jie.
Leading to the kitchens, the back gate stood ajar. The sound of cleavers on chopping boards rapped out a soothing rhythm, and the smell of green onions and garlic percolated out. She approached the door, and seeing the chefs otherwise busy, slipped in. The noise provided easy cover for her to rush through to the side door.
Outside in the secluded courtyard between the kitchen and bathhouse, she leaned against the wall and heaved in air. Memories raced through her head, and her chest squeezed. She’d taken this exact same path the night before Lilian’s betrayal. That night had led to her disgrace as a Floret.
She took a deep breath and settled her thoughts with the clan’s Pure Water meditative technique. Better to learn from mistakes than dwell on them. It was all in the past. She headed over to the bathhouse, and, tying her skirts between her legs, scaled the wall to the sharply pitched roof.
Windows to the Blossoms’ rooms were unshuttered, so she stayed low while traversing the bath wing’s roof to the main mansion. With a quick look to ensure nobody was looking, she climbed into the same window she had on that fateful night.
The Blossom and her Floret prepared in a side dressing niche, and Jie tiptoed across the plush carpet, by the double bed, low table, and cushioned chairs to the sliding doors.
She slid it open, and finding the mezzanine overlooking the common room empty, darted to Little Wen’s room. Save for the zigzagging over the joints and joists to keep the wooden planks from chirping like nightingales, it was the identical path from the last time, the only difference being that the House had hosted a major party that night, with a hundred people packing the downstairs and spilling up onto these balconies.
Now, the only activity consisted of Seedlings wiping down tables and chairs in the common room. Of the seven girls working, only Yuna looked up. She gave Jie a near-imperceptible nod before returning to her sweeping. Jie reached Wen’s room without incident and slipped in.
The chamber might’ve been a twin to the one she’d passed through: a bed, two side chairs flanking a low table, and a thick woolen rug weaved in patterns of red and blue. From the location of the voices, Wen was in the dressing niche with her Floret. Jie snuck over, and using the window frame as a launching point, leaped to the ceiling. She squeezed herself between two rafters. Lilian had done the same in her many playful, and ultimately futile attempts to ambush Jie.
The position provided a direct view of Wen, wearing a white inner gown as she sat at a mirror, extending her lashes. Her Floret, a nine-year-old named Reina, fussed with her hair.
Jie cawed like a crow.
Without a pause in her makeup routine, Wen said, “Reina, I can finish the rest. Go help Eldest Sister Lusha.”
Lusha, the former Corsage of the house… A sick feeling churned in Jie’s stomach.
Reina froze. “But…”
“I’m sorry, I meant Elder Sister Yangyang.”
Bowing, Reina scurried through the room, knelt at the door, and slid it open. She walked through, knelt on the other side, and slid it shut, all with the grace expected of a second-year Seedling.
Jie didn’t miss that tedious ritual. She dropped down from the rafters, landing without a sound.
“Was the gold enough to secure Old Feng’s services?” Wen asked without looking over.
“Yes.” Jie came over and picked up where Reina had left off, brushing the tangles out of Wen’s silky black tresses. “He should be here soon with Little Tian.”
“I could’ve been your eyes and ears. Spare you the hurt.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Jie sucked on her lower lip. As de facto head of Black Lotus cell in the Floating World until a week ago, she’d failed to delegate duties, which in part had led to Lilian’s betrayal. Old habits died hard, or perhaps didn’t die at all.
Wen rose, forcing Jie to let go of her hair before making a mess. Wen turned around and wrapped Jie into an embrace. “I know it can’t be easy coming back here.”
“What’s the news of Lusha?” Jie asked, thinking about the Blossom who’d arranged to have her deflowered, so as to protect her own record virgin price.
“Lilian was thorough with her bladework.” Wen shuddered. “Lusha’s face was so scarred, she’ll never work as a Blossom in the Floating World again. A Triad boss in the Trench bought her contract for coppers. Faceless Chang, I think.”
Pushing away from Wen, Jie clenched her jaw. Whereas the Houses of the Floating World followed specific conventions, and the Blossoms even in the less exclusive Houses rarely saw more than a few Hummingbirds a night, the Trench was another story. Controlled by Triads like the Red Dragons and Fangs, the prostitutes there might service twenty or more men throughout the day, with very little rest. All while trying to avoid a serial killer who’d set up shop there in the last couple of months. Lillian’s vengeance on Jie’s behalf was far more brutal than the original offense.
The Peony Garden’s Gardener Mu, who’d arranged the entire plot, had been poisoned; and to protect the secret of the Black Lotus Clan’s existence, her body had been left in the Trench, the supposed victim of bad debts to the Triads. And then, of course... “What about Shixian?”
Wen’s expression darkened even more. “He committed suicide. We suspect the loss of his manhood was too much to bear.”
Jie blinked away a solitary tear. An up-and-coming cavalry officer, Shixian had been her first. It had been an exhilarating experience in the moment, but something she’d never have done without the influence of Dragonweaver magic. Not with her record virgin price on the line. For his part, he’d been an unwitting accomplice, tricked by the Gardener to deflower her.
All in this mansion.
And Lilian had castrated him.
Jie’s ears twitched. The bells jingling at the front door tore her from the raw memories. She pushed out of Wen’s embrace. “They’re here.”
Wen stared at her. “Your ears!”
Ignoring the compliment, Jie slipped out onto the mezzanine. Down in the common room, Old Feng wore the robes of a high government official. At his side, Tian looked cute in his own miniature gentleman’s robes. He might fit in the one Floating World House which catered to a different taste—with Pistols and Stamens instead of Blossoms and Hummingbirds.
The Peony Garden’s new Gardener glided out to greet them, though a slight hitch in her gait gave her away as...
Gardener Ju, the former owner of the Chrysanthemum Pavilion.
What was she doing here? She’d expected renown from the record virgin price that Jie never earned, and their parting words hadn’t been pleasant. Heart sinking, Jie turned to Wen with a raised eyebrow.
She bought a majority share of the Peony Garden, Wen signed.
How was that even possible? Gardener Ju had undoubtedly made a huge fortune in her twenty years running the Chrysanthemum Pavilion, but most Houses didn’t deal with banks, preferring to keep their money on site. She must’ve lost most of it in the fire. Though there had been a period of time, two years before, when she’d disappear from the House for hours on end. Could she have bene visiting a bank outside of the Floating World? Jie swallowed hard, and turned her attention to the common room.
The Gardener bowed low, with the grace Jie never bothered to master. Her supposed feats of flexibility still brought Hummingbirds to her bed, though she’d always been choosy about the ones she entertained. “Thank you for coming, Minister—?
Old Feng spoke with a dismissive tone, worthy of a high official. “Feng.”
Easier to keep elements of the truth. Hopefully, Tian could play his role well.
Chapter 4
The mean half-elf’s schematic didn’t do the Peony Garden Justice. Though n
ot as grand as some of the halls in the Imperial Palace, the mansion was nothing like any Tian had ever seen. The front double doors swung open into a large room, which vaulted three stories high. Banners hung from the mezzanines on the second and third floors, emblazoned with words for spring, flowers, clouds, and rain. At the far end rose a stage. Several young girls wiped down the twenty-four tables and ninety-two chairs.
The room even had a stone-lined hole with a burning fire, like those he’d seen in paintings from the land of the fair-skinned… what was it called? A hearth?
“You honor my House.” The woman was pretty in an aunty kind of way, with dyed black hair pinned up into a hairstyle which looked a like a beehive his friend Kai-Long had once tricked him into knocking over. Her eyes were dark brown, though one had yellow flecks in it. “I am embarrassed to say, I have never heard of you.”
“I’m posted in Fenggu Province.” Old Feng fanned his hand. “As I’m sure you know, there’s nothing quite like the Floating World down there, and I want nothing but the best for my son’s First Pollinating.”
The woman’s eyes studied Old Feng before falling on Tian. “He looks a little young for a First Pollinating. Tell me, young sir, how old are you.”
Tian opened his mouth. “T—”
“Twelve,” Old Feng said. “We caught him, uh, what’s the term? Playing the Flute? So we know he’s ready.”
A flute was a girl’s instrument. Mortified, Tian shook his head and looked up at the woman.
Her lower lip jutted out, like she’d just sucked a lemon for a split second. “Polishing Jade, you mean.”
Polishing Jade? Forehead scrunching, Tian tapped his chin. He’d never played a flute or polished any jade.
The woman’s expression softened, and she bowed. “It is nothing to be ashamed of, Young Sir.”
If she knew he was the son of a Great Lord, she’d know just how shameful it was to play a woman’s instrument, or do something as menial as polishing. He tried not to frown.
The aunty beckoned to a pretty serving girl, who glided over. She couldn’t have been much older than Princess Kaiya, but wasn’t nearly as beautiful. She bowed low first to them, then to the woman.
The woman whispered in her ear, and the younger disappeared through a side archway. She appeared on a stairwell a few seconds later, not far from where the first assassin shot the countant.
“She is pretty, isn’t she?” The woman said.
Tian yanked his attention from the younger girl down to this aunty. “No.”
Her eyes widened.
Old Feng jabbed Tian in the ribs. “Be more polite.”
“But—”
“Not to worry.” The aunty smiled. “Little Yaya will be back with some blossoms for the Young Sir to choose from.”
Tian couldn’t hold his frown any longer. First flutes, now flowers. They really must think him a girl.
Old Feng held up a hand. “Oh, we did not plan to pollinate now… unless you’d offer a doting father a sample.” He grinned.
The woman’s lips tightened into a thin line.
Old Feng coughed. “I mean, we just came to, uh, price out the flowers.”
Her lips went from a thin line to an ugly frown. “Your Excellency, walking through these doors comes with many assumptions.”
“Of course, of course. Let us see your blossoms. Would it be all right for my boy to look around the room?”
The woman bowed. “Of course.”
Finally! Up to now, it’d felt like the assassin had been tickling Tian’s ear with taunting whispers. Maybe now, he’d find some answers. Thus dismissed, he walked through the chairs and tables to the corner where the killing had taken place. There had to be some clue, and he had to find it. He sat in the chair and slumped over like the man who’d been murdered. If Jie’s schematic were correct—unlikely, because the relative distances were all wrong—the second assassin would’ve been standing in plain sight. Any further back, beyond the archway, would be a near-impossible shot with a crossbow—maybe only the First Wang Emperor’s consort could make it, if three hundred-year-old histories were true.
“Are you tired, Young Sir?” the woman called.
Excitement growing, Tian straightened and shook his head. “You cleaned up all the blood.”
“Excuse me?” She looked as if the Orc Gods had returned on their flaming chariots. She took two steps back, with a slight limp.
“Isn’t this where a good man was shot in the back?”
Gawking, the woman looked from him to Old Feng. “What is he talking about?”
How could she not know? Tian hopped up and down, waving a finger in a circle over his head. “Last week. And wasn’t there a fire?”
All color drained from her face. “I think you need to leave now.”
Wen appeared in the archway, and shuffled over, hips swaying like a kite in the wind. She looked even more beautiful than before, wearing a blue and white silk gown that bared her shoulders. She’d be able to jog the aunty’s memory.
He clapped. “Wen!”
Old Feng’s eyes widened, Wen’s jaw dropped. Her eyes darted up to the mezzanine for a split second.
Tian, alone, followed her gaze, but saw nothing but shadows.
The aunty’s eyebrows clashed together like two swords in a duel. “Wen, how do you know these gentlemen?”
Wen bowed. “I met Minister Feng and his son at the entrance to the Floating World. They asked me the best place for a young man’s First Pollinating, and of course, I recommended the Peony Garden.”
“I see.” The older woman gave a slow nod.
“Tell them,” Tian said. “About the good man dying here.”
Wen waved a hand back and forth. “You are mistaken, Young Sir. A lord died in a fire at the Chrysanthemum Pavilion.”
“But Jie said—”
“Jie?” Panic rose in the aunty’s voice.
The door opened, revealing Lord Peng Xian, father of his friend Kai-Long. A great lord who knew about Tian’s banishment from the capital.
***
As she stood in the shadows of the second-floor mezzanine, Jie’s every nerve prickled. Despite her warning to him to stay quiet, Zheng Tian had turned what should have been a simple operation into an unmitigated disaster. Old Feng hadn’t helped, using such vulgar language like Playing the Flute, but ultimately, it came down to the boy’s obsessiveness overwhelming his common sense. No matter how observant, he’d never survive in the clan until he learned to temper his excitement.
All he’d had to do was look around, and see if he could determine the location of the second assassin from the Chrysanthemum Pavilion. He didn’t even have to actually open his mouth. Wen had almost salvaged the situation, at least she had a good head on her shoulders.
Then, he had to mention Jie’s name. It looked to have triggered bad memories for the Gardener, if her distraught expression were any indication.
Now though, the boy clung to the back of Wen’s skirts like a frightened child. Jie followed his gaze to the front door.
Lord Peng Xian stood there with several of his men, all unarmed because of the conventions of the Floating World. His eldest son was to have had his First Pollinating with Lusha a couple of days ago, with an unprecedented contract price, possibly paid for by Lord Ting’s enemies; but after Lusha’s disappearance, the young man must’ve slept with someone else.
Oh, no. Her heart squeezed. As a great lord, Peng would know about Tian’s banishment. That’s why the boy was hiding.
Jie dashed down the steps, while keeping an ear toward the common room.
“Madame Dan.” Lord Peng’s voice echoed. “I have come to thank you for my son’s First Pollinating. I’d like to arrange one for my second son, Kai-Long.”
“I thank you for the great honor,” the Gardener said. “Minister Feng, here, has also brought his son to arrange a First Pollinating.”
Usually, such deals stayed anonymous and confidential in the Floating World, but if Jie’d learne
d anything about the Gardener from their years together at the Chrysanthemum Pavilion, it was that she had a uniquely shrewd mind to go along with her avarice. No doubt, she’d play one off the other in a battle of face, to raise the contract price. She’d be sorely disappointed, given Feng’s acting income.
Jie paused at the archway from the side hallway to the common room. When Wen met her gaze, Jie flashed hand signals. Danger. Hide Tian. Escape on my mark.
Wen made a nearly imperceptible nod, and angled herself to stay between Tian and Lord Peng.
“Since she is here, let me introduce Wen,” the Gardener said.
Jie gritted her teeth. The moment Wen bowed low, like an appropriate Blossom, Lord Peng would see Tian. Unless he was busy staring at her chest, which wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.
Making sure that no one was looking, Jie used the tables and chairs as cover and made for the front door. Halfway through the room, she flashed a signal.
Wen placed one hand over her mouth and another over her belly, and let out an adorable squeal. “My apologies, Gardener, Masters. I… I…” She bowed halfway, and backed toward the kitchens, Tian no doubt behind her.
“Are you all right?” Lord Peng took a step forward, hand extended.
Jie opened the front door, setting the wind chimes jingling.
All heads turned toward her.
“You!” The Gardener scowled. “You are not welcome here.”
Jie grinned. “Madame Ju… I mean, Madame Dan, I am glad to see you survived the Chrysanthemum Pavilion’s fire.”
“Do not speak of it!”
Old Feng, Lord Peng, and all of Peng’s men stared between the two.
Lord Peng cleared his throat. “If this is a bad time…”
“No, this filthy whore was just leaving.” The Gardener gestured toward the door, the motion itself graceful.
“I was wondering,” Jie said. “How could you possibly afford to buy this house after your old one burned down?”