The Lotus Palace

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The Lotus Palace Page 21

by Jeannie Lin


  * * *

  WAGONS WERE BROUGHT in to move the tea and Huang enlisted one of the transports to take them back to his residence. They said nothing during the ride home, but once they were inside the front gate, he could remain quiet no longer.

  “Is that how you and your sister came to the capital?”

  She reached the door of her bedchamber before turning to face him.

  “We were sold by our parents. There was no need to be smuggled in.”

  The answer gave him no relief. He had known about her past in the brothels, yet he’d managed to push it aside. He had tried very hard not to think of how many men she had lain with. He had been with other courtesans and their pasts simply hadn’t mattered, but with Yue-ying it did.

  How much would a child be sold for? Ten bolts of silk? Enough grain to feed a family for a few months? Huang had owed several million in cash at one time, thrown away for nothing but his own pleasure. He had been utterly blind.

  “I understand now why you won’t be owned by anyone ever again.” The words alone seemed inadequate. “I never meant to try to purchase you in that way.”

  Yue-ying only nodded once. She looked tired. Very tired.

  He headed to his study, prepared to collapse onto his pallet, but she reached for him. She drew him into her chamber and shut the door behind them, enclosing them in darkness.

  Though sightless, they found one another with no trouble. His hands rounded her waist at the same time her arms circled his neck and she pressed her mouth eagerly against his. He had told her once she was the only thing in the Pingkang li that seemed real to him. She never felt more real than tonight.

  They only stopped kissing to slip off their clothes. She was wearing his robe, he recalled as he untied her sash and pulled the silk from her shoulders. She did the same for him, her hands working deftly, before she pushed him back onto the bed. Her hand paused on his abdomen, her little finger just brushing the scar beneath his ribs, before dipping lower.

  He shuddered as her hand closed around him. He had been aroused for days, living so close to her, hearing her dressing and washing from the other side of the wall. Her fingers circled him and her hand ran along his entire length, stroking him until he was so hard it bordered on pain. Her grip was knowing, teasing, merciless.

  Whomever he had made love to that first night wasn’t Yue-ying. He hadn’t known her then. She had hidden herself from him on purpose and he had made assumptions of who she was and what she wanted. The woman in bed with him tonight wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  He sat up and she climbed onto his lap, straddling him. He could feel the flex of the muscles along her legs as he gripped the backs of her thighs. Without a word, she guided him into her.

  “Go slow,” he murmured desperately, already lost at the sensation of her flesh parting to allow him entrance.

  Yue-ying did go slow, slow enough that he could feel the wet clasp of her body as she lowered herself. She rested her palms flat against his chest once she was fully seated onto him and the moment of stillness drove him mad. He wanted to thrust up into her, to seek more of that heat and the unbearable pressure of her surrounding him, but if he did it would be over quicker than it began.

  Her weight shifted in his lap. She bent to kiss him on the chin. The gesture was sweet, almost innocent, but the change in position caused her muscles to tighten intimately around him.

  “Yue-ying.” He gritted out her name.

  She had begun to move over him and he was enslaved inside her. Her voice was a seductive whisper against his throat.

  “Lord Bai.”

  “Lord Bai?” he groaned. “Is that what you call me...in your dreams?”

  He could only pant out the words. The heat, the pressure of her flesh squeezing tight around him, the sheer pleasure of their joining had taken over him and he was making no sense. Right there, at the height of the crisis, Yue-ying started laughing. It was a seductive, beautiful sound and it resonated through her into him.

  He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, needing to maintain some illusion of control as she rocked over him, driving the pleasure deeper.

  “Be with me.” His voice was rough, unrecognizable.

  With what little focus he had left, he eased his fingers between them and reached for her center, for that pleasure point that would take a woman to the heavens. He only knew he’d found it when Yue-ying cried out. Her body drew impossibly tighter around him and her movements fractured, losing their rhythm.

  The last of his control was gone. He couldn’t think to pull out of her. He couldn’t stop the flood of his seed into her and the dark wave of pleasure came with such force that he was blinded. He held on to Yue-ying and distantly heard her cries through his own release as he continued to stroke her. Then she was shuddering against him and clinging to him, her nails digging into his shoulder.

  It was beautiful. He had no other words for it.

  Perhaps seconds, perhaps an entire hour had passed when she laid her head onto his chest. He was still inside her. Though the fire in him was momentarily satisfied, he was loath to separate from her.

  “Huang,” she conceded sleepily.

  “Much better,” he murmured.

  His fingers continued to stroke soft little circles over her sex. He could feel the tremors within her as her body responded faintly out of instinct. But their flesh was well sated and not yet eager to stir again. He just needed to keep on touching her.

  “A concubine isn’t the same as a servant,” he said after a while. “She’s a companion. A wife.”

  She lifted her head from his chest, sought out another spot and settled down again. “This is what you want to speak of now?”

  “I was thinking you might be better persuaded now that you seem to like me...more.”

  “A concubine is far from a first wife. She’s a little wife. A lesser one.”

  He shushed her. “Those are just names.”

  “To a man. There is no such thing as a lesser husband.”

  “Because that wouldn’t make any sense,” he scoffed. “A teapot may serve many cups, but you never see one cup with many teapots.”

  She laughed at him. “You are better at making love than at making arguments, Lord Bai.”

  “I am?” he asked suggestively. He pulled her up and kissed her, then they wrestled until he was on top, still kissing her.

  Yue-ying was right. Things were going well. It wasn’t time to argue. He had wanted to assure her she didn’t need to be afraid of what would happen next. She would never have to contemplate selling herself to a brothel or wonder what her future would be. He could take care of her. He wanted to.

  He wasn’t good for much, but he was at least good for that.

  His flesh was responding to having Yue-ying beneath him. It wasn’t long before he was hard enough to enter her again. He did so slowly, listening to the catch of her breath in the dark.

  “This is good between us, isn’t it?” he asked, thrusting gently.

  Her thighs curved around his hips to hold on to him. “Yes.”

  He had been holding his breath waiting for that answer. He exhaled now and eased himself deeper into her, loving the arch of her back in response. Over the past few days, he had wondered from moment to moment whether Yue-ying would ever let him into her heart as well as her body.

  She let out a sigh as she wrapped her arms around him. “Despite everything that has happened, this is good.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  YUE-YING DIDN’T KNOW what time it was when they finally fell asleep. She suspected it was very close to morning because she had barely closed her eyes before there was sunlight peeking through the bamboo shutters. Bai Huang reached for her when she stirred.

  “Sleep,” he urged.

  She obeyed without argument, closing her eyes and drifting off with the scent of his skin surrounding her. He smelled of books, of fragrant wood and morning forest. She must have been dreaming. She had never been in a forest.


  When she woke again, he was gone. The room was warm, telling her it was past morning and heading well toward noon. She dressed herself and combed her hair before fixing it with a pin. Then she took a moment to set the chamber straight before venturing out into the courtyard.

  The windows and door of the study were propped open. She could see Bai Huang inside. He wore a light tan-colored robe, suitable for the summer heat, with striking blue trim. The contrast between his present groomed appearance and the raw sensuality of the previous night sent a rush of emotion through her.

  Bai Huang was patient. He was persistent, gently pushing against her doubts and fears without overwhelming her until suddenly she found he’d worked his way inside those barriers. He had disarmed her bit by bit and Yue-ying had never thought she would feel this way about any man. She hadn’t known she was capable of it.

  He was writing into a booklet and had already filled several pages with tidy columns of characters, perfectly spaced apart. He had a look of concentration on his face, the one that caused a faint crease to appear between his eyes. She knocked before entering.

  “Yue-ying.”

  He moved his brush instinctively back over the ink stone to prevent any dripping and he greeted her with a smile that held many unspoken sentiments. Her stomach fluttered.

  “Lord Bai.”

  He raised his eyebrows at that, but she let the honorific stand, though there was an underlying intimacy in the way she settled into the chair opposite him without invitation. Just being near him made her skin flush warm. This was very new to her. She decided she liked it.

  “A commentary on the Spring and Autumn annals,” he said in response to her curious look. He waved his hand dismissively toward the booklet. “Senseless rambling on my part really.”

  She watched as he held up the booklet to ensure the last of the ink was dry before folding the pages in.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said.

  “Do what?”

  “Act the fool.”

  He regarded her with a thoughtful expression. “It’s not always an act,” he said finally with a self-mocking smile.

  Perhaps humility was a virtue, but Bai Huang habitually belittled himself. She had seen how he had taken command at the docks. He also had proven himself to be a much more serious scholar than he claimed. His behavior continued to be a puzzle.

  “Last night,” he began.

  She stopped him. “Lord Bai.”

  “You’re blushing.”

  “The day is uncustomarily warm,” she returned without pause.

  “Is this love?” he asked simply. His voice was low and sensual.

  “Scholars and their romantic notions,” she chided, though her heart was hammering inside her.

  Most gentlemen who visited the pleasure quarters were looking for a temporary diversion. They enjoyed the games of courtship without having to be serious about it.

  Bai Huang was at the height of his youth. It would be likely another two or three years before he was required to settle down and dedicate himself to career and family. A decent amount of time for an affair, long enough for a few good memories. Her chest constricted around the thought.

  “Let us see what comes,” she said.

  He wasn’t satisfied with her answer, but didn’t press on. “I’m being selfish again. There are other things on your mind, of course.”

  She nodded, grateful he was providing her with an escape. “Nothing is more important than finding Mingyu. What if she and Huilan encountered a slave trader on the docks?”

  It made sense. The member of the gang who had threatened Bai Huang in the gambling den had mentioned her by her old name. She had obviously been recognized from the brothels.

  “Could Mingyu have killed the man out of revenge?” he asked.

  Yue-ying let out a deep breath. “We were sold by our parents,” she reminded him. “There’s no use blaming procurers and slave traders. We might as well curse poverty, or famine, or simply misfortune.”

  “Mingyu might not be as forgiving. She is known to bear a grudge,” he pointed out.

  Yue-ying didn’t have an argument for that. Mingyu could wield a barb like an assassin’s knife. She’d been known to cut down many an unworthy scholar for some infraction or another and she had the ear of key public figures. Mingyu wielded just enough influence to decry a potential appointee as lacking in manners or strength of character. But such social vindictiveness didn’t mean she was capable of murder.

  Bai Huang continued, “I mean to inquire with the Ministry of Works today to get a full account of last night’s operation. The crew is being questioned about the body in the river as well. Perhaps some new information will be revealed. And if that fails...” He hesitated. “This is the sort of information my associate may have some insight about.”

  She remembered how he had gone to speak to someone the day after Mingyu had disappeared. “Who is this mysterious associate you always speak of?”

  “Just a friend of mine. Well, not really a friend,” he corrected. “Someone I’ve come to know.”

  She frowned at that. “Is he a friend or isn’t he?”

  “He can be helpful, but I have to always remember that he can also be very dangerous.” Bai Huang sifted aimlessly through the papers on his desk, rearranging them as he explained the situation. “There’s a place just outside the Pingkang li, in the adjacent quarter. A gambling den. I only go there once in a while.” He rubbed at the back of his neck as if something had just stung him. “Once a week.”

  Once in a while was not the same as once a week, but she refrained from pointing that out.

  “In any case, if there’s no information from the ministry, then I’ll try to see if there’s any news from the street.”

  “I was thinking I would speak to Constable Wu today.”

  He scowled. “That demon Wu again.”

  Bai Huang was showing the prejudices of his noble birth. Constables were working men who got their hands dirty and had the unpleasant duty of dealing with outlaws. They weren’t considered much higher than the criminals they chased after.

  “I regret not being more forthcoming with him from the beginning,” she confessed. “Constable Wu has a reputation for being ruthless and I was afraid for Mingyu, but it’s been five days now since she disappeared. It’s better that Wu finds her than a gang of outlaws seeking revenge.”

  The thought of losing Mingyu left her numb. They had parted so unexpectedly, it was like being torn away from her sister all over again.

  “I’ll send for Zhou Dan to accompany you,” Bai Huang said gravely. “We still don’t know exactly what happened that night, but it’s obvious Mingyu has become involved with something very dangerous, just as you feared.”

  * * *

  BAI HUANG LEFT FIRST, headed toward the commerce offices. A little while later, Zhou Dan arrived driving a carriage. He wasn’t alone.

  “Lady Bai,” Yue-ying greeted, more than a little surprised to see Bai Huang’s sister sitting beneath the canopy.

  “It’s so rare that I have the opportunity to venture into the city, I thought I would accompany you.” Wei-wei, much like her brother, was accustomed to getting her way.

  Yue-ying glanced over to Zhou Dan, who shot her a helpless look. There was not much Yue-ying could do either, so she climbed up onto the carriage and took her seat without protest.

  “How old are you, Miss Yue-ying?” Wei-wei asked as the carriage rolled forward.

  “Twenty-two.”

  “I’m twenty-three. I shall call you Little Sister, then.” She looked satisfied to have established such status. “And you should call me Elder Sister.”

  Yue-ying bit back a smile. Bai Huang’s sister was a bit of a tyrant.

  “May I ask a question, Little Sister?”

  Yue-ying nodded, but did so warily.

  “I’ve never known anyone like you. How is it living so freely? Here you are, with my brother, just the two of you. I sometimes wonder how it m
ust be to be a courtesan,” Wei-wei said wistfully. “To be admired for your accomplishments. To live on your own.”

  “Elder Sister. I would advise you not to make me into something I’m not.”

  “But you are from the North Hamlet, are you not? And you are my brother’s—” She cast a furtive look about, as if her amah were lurking nearby with a bamboo rod in hand. “His lover?”

  “I’m not certain this is something we should speak of.”

  Wei-wei was undeterred. “But why not? It’s just the two of us here and we’re friends. At least, I would like to be friends,” she added hopefully.

  Her earnestness was touching. There was no hiding that Yue-ying and Bai Huang were lovers now, but that was a private matter between the two of them. Certainly not for polite conversation with his overly curious sister.

  “Huang hasn’t ever mentioned you,” Wei-wei complained.

  “I am not the sort of woman one speaks of,” Yue-ying said, more amused than embarrassed. “We can be friends for the time being, but I don’t exist, at least not to anyone as important as family. One day your brother will find a woman who is fit to marry him and I will disappear like smoke.”

  Wei-wei gave her an odd look before glancing over at the passing scenery. For once, she had nothing to say.

  “Lady Bai?”

  Wei-wei finally looked back to her. “My brother is already betrothed. His marriage was arranged a long time ago.”

  The air rushed out of her. Yue-ying struggled to recover. “Of course. She must also be from a good family.”

  Bai Huang could at least have told her. But then again, why should he? He was living his life in a half dream away from his family. Pouring out money as if it were water. Why ruin the illusion by mentioning things like familial obligation?

  This changed nothing. She was never going to be his wife; she knew that. She was merely a lover he had taken before passing the imperial exams and starting his life. There were poems about such wistful romances floating throughout the Pingkang li on colored paper. Melancholy poems centered on the impermanence of youth and love.

 

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