by Jeanne Lin
He meant every word when he told her they had become friends. What had his life been before Li Feng? He had no illusions. The life of a thief-catcher wasn’t a glorious one: chasing down one criminal after another and collecting coins for it. Killing treacherous men until one of them killed him. He sent the money home for his brother’s studies along with letters to his father and mother, yet he’d avoided returning himself.
Li Feng had seen that part of him that he had refused to admit. She made it sound as if he’d denied his family. As if he were ashamed of them, when the truth was very much the opposite. Han stayed away to protect his family. His father always insisted on order and discipline within the household. Arguments over Han’s dangerous profession would upset the peace and cause strife amongst them. It was best for everyone.
He had become a thief-catcher because something needed to be done. The family could no longer support themselves, certainly not while their eldest son focused on studying the classics while earning nothing. So Han had made a decision and gone out on his own.
Han waited for Li Feng to cast a glance over her shoulder, but she never did. She was moving deep into the woods now and it was quickly becoming apparent that she wasn’t escaping to some secluded place to grieve. His thief-catcher instinct awakened, all senses becoming alert.
He let the tangle of brush and vine swallow him as he continued to track her. Emotion drove him now, not strategy or reason. Li Feng was pushing blindly through the trees. Branches scraped and snapped over her and she swiped at them viciously, as if fighting an invisible foe.
She was going to meet someone.
His stomach turned at the thought, but Han fell back so he could continue to follow her undetected.
At the river, he waited until Li Feng skipped over the stones to disappear behind the trees before making his own crossing. It wasn’t too difficult to recapture her trail given how haplessly she tore through the wilderness.
Li Feng had done questionable things, he knew that. But he had also come to know her. Li Feng was right that he believed in justice, but so did she. Her code of honour was different from the one he’d been taught. In Li Feng’s world, material possessions held no value, but loyalty was priceless. She believed in protecting the weak. She was also so starved of contact that anyone who helped her was quickly taken in to her circle of trust. Even if he was a thief-catcher.
As he reached the shadow of the hills, he heard Li Feng calling out to someone. His suspicions were correct. Han quickened his step, then crouched low when he caught sight of her silhouette through the brush.
A man came out from what looked like a cavern in the hillside that was partially hidden by bramble and rock. Li Feng ran to him. Han’s blood boiled as she clasped the stranger’s hands.
‘Liu Yuan, let’s go together. Somewhere far from here.’
Han could hear the desperation in her plea. From the way she addressed him, the stranger could be a close friend. Or a lover. Bitterness rose in his throat.
The man was half a head taller than Li Feng and slight of build, though from what Han could see he was wiry with strength. For a bandit, he looked the part. His clothes were patched and fashioned from hide and leather. His skin was swarthy from the sun.
The bandit took hold of Li Feng by the shoulders. ‘Little Sister, you’re not alone.’ He aimed his gaze in Han’s direction. ‘I’m not alone either.’
Li Feng swung around, her eyes searching him out through the branches.
‘Run,’ she commanded.
More men dropped from the trees. Others seemed to sprout from the earth. Their clothing was discoloured, blending in with the surroundings.
Han veered to the left and shoved through the brush like a wild animal. The way back to the river was blocked and the bandits were in close pursuit. There were more of them than the magistrate had reported and they didn’t seem willing to spare yet another thief-catcher.
If he was a true hero, Han might have stood his ground and drawn his dao. He could go down fighting and Li Feng might weep for him. Not likely, he realised bitterly. Considering how intimate she and that bandit had appeared.
The incline rose as he trudged on. His heart pounded like a war drum signaling an impending battle. His lungs were burning. His muscles strained against the rise of the ground. It was time to stand and fight while he still had the strength.
He drew his dao and turned to charge at the closest pursuer before more could gather. His opponent held a knife in his right hand, which Han sliced across the knuckles. The knife fell to the ground. So did the man once Han kneed him in the groin.
Han left him rolling. The next two were upon him while two more approached immediately behind them. They wound through the trees to circle him.
Sword against knives. Advantage. One against four. Distinct disadvantage.
‘Come on, dogs!’ he goaded. Because that’s what you did in a fight.
The bandit who headed the attack had what looked like a fresh cut across his face. Han struck at him, keeping his attack controlled. Han split his attention to the other bandit moving in behind him. These men were accustomed to fighting together. Han was accustomed to avoiding this sort of situation. At least he had been until he’d met Li Feng.
A thrust came from in front, low and aiming just beneath his ribs. The man at his back closed in as well. Han had to jump out of the way. He cut as soon as his feet found purchase. He smelled blood and felt the graze of steel against flesh. The rear bandit clutched at his forearm and his hand came away red.
Contact, but not enough. Han attacked again, aiming for the man who was already injured. The others were moving into position. Killing was slow, maiming was quick. He needed to disable elbows and knees. Eyes were good. An exposed throat would be best, but these bandits weren’t as easy as that.
A familiar voice interrupted the fight. ‘I told you to run.’
Li Feng came flying into the circle, blade flashing. She cut two of the bandits before they could regroup.
‘Fox-whore,’ the scarred one roared. She threw a knife at him.
Han and Li Feng were then on the run together, charging uphill side by side. The outlaws labored behind them.
‘We can defeat them.’ Han was breathing hard and certain that the fight would be easier than this climb.
‘No.’
‘I’ve seen your sword skill.’ Exhale. Inhale. ‘You’ve seen mine.’
‘Stop wasting your breath,’ she panted, sliding the blade back into her sleeve. ‘Come on.’
Li Feng picked up speed. She was moving like air, as if the earth had no hold on her.
‘Don’t slow down,’ she shouted over her shoulder.
‘What?’
He was a few strides behind her. As the ground leveled out, he saw the edge of a ravine drop off in front of them.
Her words drifted over the wind to him. ‘If I can do this, you can do this.’
Li Feng reached the edge and continued forwards. A surge of energy pulsed through him and suddenly the ground disappeared from below him as well.
He was falling, flying. Practitioners of the fighting arts spoke about feeling and not thinking. He certainly wasn’t thinking when he’d leapt after her. He wasn’t thinking of how far the other edge was or how high up they were. Strange how time can stretch on for ever and yet stand still. Was this the mind of birds and dragons as they soared on high?
His mind and body joined back into one as he crashed hard against the earth. The impact jolted through his legs as the ledge gave away beneath him. For a heart-stopping second, he slid downwards. His hands clawed over dirt and rock before digging in enough to hold on. Li Feng dangled beside him over the ravine. Panting and huffing, they pulled themselves up over the ledge.
Han rolled on to his back once he was on solid ground again. Relief flooded him. For a moment, they merely lay there in the grass with the sound of the river flowing below.
Li Feng turned her head to him. Her hair fanned out in the grass like black water and her e
yes were bright with surprise and delight.
‘You made it.’
‘You didn’t have any doubt about it on the other side,’ he accused.
‘I knew how far I could jump and since you’re bigger and stronger—’
‘And heavier,’ he interrupted her excited chatter. ‘I’d fall faster and harder.’
She turned her face up to the sky and laughed. Han realised, looking over the flush in her cheeks, that he didn’t quite know her as well as he thought. Maybe he would never know her, but he wanted to. She was the most fascinating woman he’d ever encountered. There was something not quite safe about Li Feng.
Her laughter rang free and child-like in the forest, intertwining with the driving rhythm of his pulse. His body still hadn’t recovered from the jump and Han was at once angry and elated and uncommonly aroused. He rolled himself over her and kissed her.
She sighed into his mouth. Her lips were warm, soft. Her body curved against him as he pressed her gently into the grass. She was a live and wild thing and he was mad with the taste of her. He broke the kiss to frame her face in his hands. He ran his thumbs over the shape of her cheekbones and kissed her again, claiming her in the only way he could.
Her heartbeat skipped against his chest, resonating into him, through him. The rush of the jump was still in their blood, headier than the strongest of liquors. The chase freed her from her ghosts in a way nothing else could. The chase freed him as well, taking them past the boundaries of law and society. It was no mistake that they found each other in it.
‘Li Feng.’
‘Hmm?’
His fingers curved around her face to tilt it towards him. She touched a fingertip to his chin in answer. Her cheeks were tipped in pink like a ripened peach. Every bit of her glowed warm and enticing. He had the urge to drag clothing aside and sink his body deep inside her.
But they were in the woods. They’d just been chased. And he’d seen Li Feng practically in the arms of a bandit.
‘Who was that you were with?’
She tensed beneath him. ‘An interrogation? Now?’ Her fingers curled into the front of his robe. ‘This is why we can’t be friends.’
He stood and offered his hand to her. She took it without too much ill humour and they stood side by side, looking across the ravine. Despite her earlier laughter, Li Feng’s expression was one of turmoil. Blood rushed through his veins. Every part of him was awake and acutely aware of the woman beside him.
‘We’re not friends, Li Feng,’ he said, breathing deep to take in the grass, the sunlight, the moment. ‘We’re much, much more than that.’
Han should have thought much harder before leaping after her, but he feared any attempt at caution was far too late.
Chapter Thirteen
They returned to the city, walking side by side with hardly a word between them, but in her mind, Li Feng was still running. When her brother had sent his men after Han, she couldn’t hold back. She had spared Liu Yuan a single glance before setting off, knowing this would strain the tenuous bond they had just formed.
No matter how strong the ties of family were, Zheng Hao Han wasn’t meant to die in a thoughtless ambush in the woods. It went against the code of honour of the rivers and lakes. It also went against everything she had started to feel for him, emotions that had remained unspoken because she didn’t have the words for them. Li Feng could only speak through action.
There was a rightness in fighting beside Han. He moved well, fought well. It had felt good to run with him, to fly blindly through the air without a care. And then the kiss. The kiss. Han held her as if he would never let anything get to her while he thoroughly devoured her, caressing her with lips first, then tongue. Their teeth met as the kiss deepened, the brief clash sending a primal thrill down her spine.
That kiss had promised things. But the moment she had returned to earth, her brother was still a murderous bandit and the man that she desired was still a thief-catcher. She was torn in two and needed time to gather the pieces of herself back together.
So she continued through the gates and let Han lead her past shops and taverns, back into the shelter of the city. It was a place where she could hide, but only for so long.
Han took her down a side alley and into the back door of a restaurant. The kitchen was evidently a busy one with bowls clattering and the hiss and crackle of food being cooked. His hand rested at the small of her back as he led her down a shallow staircase. It was a lightly possessive touch. More promises.
And just like that, she was inside a small, bare room and alone with her thief-catcher. The furnishings were sparse: a woven pallet that served as a bed, a bare wooden table, a single cabinet in the corner. A window had been cut out of the exterior wall and covered with a roll of bamboo slats. There was no lock on the door as there was nothing to steal.
She began a circle around the room. ‘This is your place?’
‘I paid for this cellar when I first came to the city. Although for the last few days, some seductress lured me to an abandoned shrine.’
‘She sounds wicked.’
‘I was weak.’
Li Feng smiled, but it felt forced as did the rest of the conversation. Usually their words flowed together effortlessly, but not now. There was something unfinished between them and from the dark look in Han’s eyes, he knew it as well. She didn’t let her gaze linger on the bed, though her throat went dry at the thought of Han in it.
‘Something amuses you?’ He sounded very close though he still remained at the door. Her every sense had become keenly aware of him.
‘I never imagined that you actually went anywhere once I escaped from you.’ She cast him a slanted look. ‘I just thought you disappeared, like some demon.’
‘I shut myself in a room every time and brood about letting you escape. Then I scheme and plot about how to capture you once more.’
She completed her circle to end face to face with Han again. He was grinning at her with one shoulder against the doorframe and his arms folded over his chest. He was a handsome sight with that hard jaw and startlingly soft mouth. Those eyes that laughed and wooed her. He was beautiful in the weathered, untamed way that mountains were beautiful.
Heated air wafted in from the kitchen above, making the atmosphere tepid. She wiped the back of her hand over her brow.
‘It’s hot,’ she said. Which wasn’t particularly clever. Her heart was beating too fast for cleverness.
Han pushed off the wall with a shrug of his shoulder. ‘Wait here.’
A moment later he returned carrying a basin with a tray balanced over the top. A washcloth was draped over his arm. Han set the basin down and lowered the tray beside it. He took two cups from the tray and arranged them side by side before picking up the wine flask.
‘That man was my brother,’ she said abruptly, in answer to his earlier question.
Han paused mid-pour before continuing. He handed her a cup before taking one for himself. It was rice wine, the taste of it slightly sweet. Han downed his in one swallow and set about pouring himself another.
‘I didn’t know you had a brother,’ he said.
‘I didn’t know either, until now.’
It was pointless to hide it now that everything had changed. She watched for his reaction, but as usual Han was as unmoving as a stone lion. He was an experienced and intelligent thief-catcher. He had to know by now that it had been Liu Yuan and his gang who murdered Cai Yun. There was no way he could let that go.
‘He tried to kill me,’ Han said.
‘Liu Yuan is family,’ she insisted though her throat tightened. ‘He felt threatened when you appeared. My brother is like that. He’s been cornered and beaten so often that he lashes out.’
It was pointless to defend a killer to a thief-catcher, but Liu Yuan was her only family left and she had been alone for so long.
‘We’re bound by blood.’ There was nothing more she could say than that.
‘Yet you’re here,’ Han said. ‘With
me.’
‘For now.’
Only for the moment. Han narrowed his gaze on her, weighing her words before coming forwards. Gently, he pried her fingers from her cup. She hadn’t realised how tight she’d been gripping it. He poured her more wine and she sipped it slowly, pulse racing. Every action suddenly seemed like it was an act of fate, a step towards the inevitable.
They were indeed friends, but they were also adversaries. Between the wine and the excitement of the shared escape and the way he was looking at her, they were likely to become lovers before the night was even upon them. But that was all they could be—lovers for one night.
Han rolled up his sleeves and dipped the washcloth into the basin. The muscles in his forearms tensed as he wrung out the excess water. In the moments that passed, they had reached a tacit agreement. No more questions.
‘You have a smudge here.’
His knuckle caressed her cheek before he handed her the washcloth. The seemingly casual gesture sent a rise of heat up her neck that had nothing to do with the swelter of the kitchen. She ran the damp cloth over her face, letting the cool water slide over her skin. Han averted his eyes to allow her some privacy as he finished his wine.
When she handed the washcloth back to him, he paused with his hand on the cloth. His look focused keenly in on her. Han extracted the cloth from her fingers and dipped it once again into the basin. ‘Here, let me.’
He smoothed the damp cloth over her forehead and down her cheek, taking much more care than she had given to herself. She blinked as water dripped over her eyes, but she didn’t dare close them. Han was watching her face with such intensity, his breathing growing heavier with each pass.
She held her breath as a trickle of water ran down her throat to disappear into the valley of her breasts. Her pulse throbbed beneath Han’s fingertips as the cloth followed the same downward path. His eyes were still focused on hers as he parted her tunic. Her breasts were wrapped under a plain swathe of cloth. Han’s fingers slipped deftly beneath the material to tug it loose. The tip of his thumb grazed lightly over her nipple and she shivered. A delicious ache formed low in her belly.