by Jeannie Lin
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. T
his 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.