by Jeannie Lin
“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.�
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* * *
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.”