The Lotus Palace

by Jeannie Lin

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

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

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

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

  “Lord Bai.”

  “Lord Gao.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I heard.”

  “I want to know who did it.”

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

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

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

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

  “Do you want me to thank you?”

  “No, I want your silver.”

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

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

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

  “She was important to you.”

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

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

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

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

  Huang slipped him another boat without argument.

  “Come back in a week,” Gao said.

  “I always do.”

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

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

  * * *

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

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

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

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

  “What conversation was this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “That’s not true.”

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

  “You’re Lady Mingyu’s maidservant.”

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

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

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

  “So...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

  His comment made her ears burn.

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

  “I’m not afraid—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Us?”

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

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

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

  “I understand,” he replied too easily.

  She paused. “You do?”

  “Yes, but I need one last favor.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I promised Huilan,” Bai Huang said soberly.

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

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

  The steps leading down the embankment were cut roughly and Bai Huang offered his hand to help steady her, a gentleman at heart. His touch was warm on her arm and the trace of it remained long after he let go. As they neared the docks the swampy, stagnant smell of water rose around them.

  “The banquet was during the evening,” she reminded him. “It was dark outside and there were lanterns lighting the walkway. I might not be able to find this pleasure boat.”

  “I know. Just try to look.”

  “It may not even be here anymore. Ships sail in and out of the city every day.”

  She set foot onto the wooden plank of the dock that stretched along the waterway. The port was clogged with every sort of vessel, large and small. Yue-ying searched among them.

  “It might have been this one.”

  They came to a stop before a massive vessel that rose out of the water. It was a pleasure barge fitted with painted columns supporting two tiers. A dragon’s head graced the bow and elaborate carvings curled along the eaves. Red lanterns hung along the length of the boat. Passengers were meant to enjoy the view of the water through the open panels, but Yue-ying had been so nervous when she was on it, all she could remember was that she had wanted to get off.

  After a brief scan, Bai Huang directed her along the dock at a leisurely pace, as if they were a young couple enjoying a stroll.

  “You said that the guests at the banquet were mostly merchants and traders.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do those sorts of men typically hire out registered courtesans?”

  “It’s not too uncommon,” she replied. “Though if all one wants is some music and a few pretty faces, they could go to the less reputable houses in the upper lane or hire song girls who aren’t registered. It would be less expensive.”

  The aristocracy generally looked down upon the merchant class as being greedy and common, but to the pleasure house madams money was money.

  “The Market Commissioner was trying to make a good impression,” Bai Huang reasoned. “He had an association with Huilan, so he invited her to attend, but she met someone or saw something that frightened her there.”

  “Nothing unusual happened while I was there. I can ask Mingyu if she remembers anything once she returns from the hot springs.”

  The words left her lips before she realized that he had drawn her back into the investigation with hardly any effort at all. The scoundrel.

  “What about you?” he asked.

  “Me?”

  He stopped and turned. “Why were you afraid that night?”

  “I don’t like the water.”

  He leaned a touch closer, lowering his voice as if to keep from frightening her. “We’re close to water now.”

  They were beside the canal and a slight breeze rippled over the surface. His gaze was intent on her. A strand of hair fell from his topknot to whip about his face as clouds gathered overhead.

  She looked to the darkening sky. “It’s going to rain.”

  “You haven’t given me an answer,” he said gently.

  She sighed. “I already told you, I don’t like boats. I’ve never liked them. The motion makes me feel dizzy.”

  “Is that all?” he pressed.

  A boat had brought her to Changan after she was taken away from her family.

  “It really is going to rain,” she said instead.

  Brushing past him, she moved back toward the street. His footsteps sounded behind her and she quickened her
step, using the coming rain as an excuse to escape. What did it matter to Lord Bai whether she liked boats or his bad poetry? Why did she matter to him at all?

  She didn’t matter, she reminded herself. He just needed her help to solve the mystery of Huilan’s murder.

  A drop of water fell against her hand. And then another against the bridge of her nose. Within moments, a few drops had become a thousand. She hadn’t brought a parasol since she’d assumed she would only be making a small trip to the market, not wandering outside the quarter.

  Yue-ying searched about for shelter as rainfall filled her vision, making it hard to see. Suddenly Bai Huang was beside her, tucking her against his shoulder.

  “Come on!” he shouted. He had to shout because water was roaring from the heavens now.

  He draped an arm overhead to try to cover her. The act was more chivalrous than practical. By the time they found a small park and ran beneath a wooden pavilion, her hair was drenched. He had managed to shield her robe from getting soaked through.

  She swiped a hand over her face to clear the water from her eyes. He did the same and then they stared out at the falling curtain of water. Next they looked to the single bench, big enough for two. Yue-ying decided she’d rather remain standing. It was summer and it was Changan. The rain could be gone within moments and she didn’t care to invite intimacy in the meantime.

  She leaned her elbows onto the wooden rail that surrounded the pavilion and looked out into the park. All she could see was a smudge of green mixed in with gray. A heartbeat later, Bai Huang perched himself beside her, his posture mirroring hers.

  “I should tell you, I wasn’t drunk that night.”

  There wasn’t any need to specify which night he was talking about.

  “I know.” She didn’t turn toward him, but she could sense his gaze on her all the same. “With your lips stumbling all over, I would have easily caught the scent of it.”

  Bai Huang laughed. It was the easy laugh he was so well-known for, the one that showed he was above insult, without a care in the world. She envied him the ability to be able to laugh like that.