by Jeannie Lin
‘I can’t imagine you working here,’ Bai Shen remarked.
‘It’s reputable work,’ Fei Long argued. His father, his grandfather, and on and on back, his line of ancestors had held government positions in one form or another.
‘Unlike the theatre.’ Bai Shen tossed him a sideways glance before continuing along the colonnade toward the central ministry buildings.
The imperial palace had moved just beyond the city walls at the start of the dynasty, to a secluded area cordoned off by more walls and gates. These government offices were the closest most citizens would ever come to being in the presence of their imperial ruler. Of the illustrious officials of the Six Ministries, only the most senior and highest-ranking were ever given an audience within the palace itself. Unlike the bureaucracy of the ministries, the Censorate reported directly to the Emperor, which was why men like Tong were treated with such care.
They passed by a patrol of city guards without a blink in their direction.
‘It should be easy to blend in,’ Bai Shen assessed.
Fei Long smirked. ‘Not in those robes.’
As usual, Bai Shen was the most colourfully dressed in the crowd. He dismissed the comment with a wave.
‘The Ministry of Personnel resides in that building with the green rooftop.’ Fei Long gestured toward the towering assembly hall at the end of the avenue. ‘Minister Cao is there every morning overseeing special petitions.’ He turned to Bai Shen. ‘Are you still in good with that crew of rascals?’
‘Everyone loves Li Bai Shen.’
‘Can you position yourselves near Minister Cao’s offices that morning?’
‘A diversion.’ Bai Shen looked thoughtful. ‘Yes, a
grand one.’
‘No. Not a grand one.’ Fei Long stared him down. ‘Just delay him.’
He imagined having to stand before the magistrate on behalf of Bai Shen and his entire acting troupe. It was something Fei Long had done years ago when the crew had been thrown into prison after being disrespectful to the city guards. Loudly and drunkenly disrespectful.
‘And nothing illegal,’ he added on the heels of the unpleasant memory.
‘Of course. But you’re going to owe us a round of drinks after this.’
They walked the perimeter, with Bai Shen surveying the gates and exits as if planning a siege.
‘We’ll need to be sure he doesn’t slip past us,’ the actor said. He peered intently down the deserted alley along the western side. ‘Six of us could cover it. Maybe seven.’
‘What are you planning?’
‘Better you don’t know.’ Bai Shen started down the empty lane, head bowed in concentration. Fei Long imagined he was scripting out his performance line by line.
He followed Bai Shen into the shade cast by the high wall. The hum of the street faded behind him in a rare silence seldom found in the crowded city. It seemed as if had been ages ago when he and Bai Shen had walked the streets of Changan together. Not since his days as a student.
It was tempting to think of those days as carefree. He’d had his wild times carousing in the entertainment district, but Fei Long had always felt the weight of responsibility. He’d never forgotten it, even when he’d left the city to try to make a name for himself. The sense of duty just hadn’t been as palpable until his father had left them.
‘Thank you,’ he said, putting as much feeling as was proper into his words.
Bai Shen’s back was to him, but the actor stopped in the middle of the alley and turned. ‘What, we’re friends here, right? No need for thanks.’
Fei Long never imagined he’d have to lean on the hapless companions of his youth or a stranger he’d just met in a remote teahouse. He never thought he’d have to deal in deception
either or hide so completely from their family’s respectable associates.
‘Not just for this,’ Fei Long said. ‘For the work you’ve done with Yan Ling as well.’
Bai Shen raised an eyebrow. ‘Done with?’
‘Whatever you’re teaching her, it must be working. The other day we were discussing a poem—or I was explaining a poem to her—and it was almost as though she understood its deeper meaning. At first she asked so many questions. Incessant really. Enough to make one’s head hurt.’
‘So she seemed intelligent enough,’ Bai Shen mused.
Fei Long couldn’t quite decipher that tone. ‘Well, poems are simple—’
‘Deceptively simple.’
‘What I’m trying to say is, if I hadn’t known where she had come from, I might have believed that she was an educated lady. She sounded like she had a true interest in the discussion. Of course I know she’s only pretending.’
‘Pretending to have some wit and intuition.’
‘That’s what you’ve been teaching her to do, isn’t it? Acting lessons.’
Bai Shen made a snorting sound that raised Fei Long’s ire considerably. The actor’s eyes were gleaming as if there was some joke here that only he understood.
‘So during all these pleasant conversations you’ve been enjoying with the young lady, she’s been only acting.’
‘I didn’t say I was enjoying—’ He hadn’t said anything like that, had he?
‘Playing a role,’ Bai Shen continued relentless. ‘And you were playing a role, too, of course. That’s the only way to explain how you could pretend to have a conversation of equals with your little tea girl.’
‘That’s insulting.’
‘To you or to Yan Ling?’
His pulse was rising. The conversation had got out of hand. ‘She’s not a “little tea girl” and it’s insulting to refer to her as mine—’
Fei Long stopped himself. Bai Shen was baiting him for his own amusement and he should have known better than to react. The situation was black and white in his head and no amount of taunting could change that.
He took a deep, steadying breath. Yan Ling didn’t belong to him. She was here to fulfil a role, as they had agreed upon. And of course any intimacy between them was only for the purposes of her training. They were co-conspirators in a grand scheme.
Bai Shen laughed and the sound clanged in Fei Long’s skull like a dissonant chime. ‘Look at you! Ready to give me a thrashing over the slightest insult. It’s not as if she’s really your sister.’
‘No,’ Fei Long said after a pause. ‘No, she’s not.’ He was confused and he did want to hit Bai Shen, now that the rascal mentioned it.
His friend grew serious. ‘You’re really going to do this, aren’t you?’
‘We have to. If we don’t, my family name will be dishonoured. We’ll be left with nothing.’ It wasn’t only him. Yan Ling, his steward, Dao—the entire household was involved. They had served his father and now him in good faith. ‘They’re all looking to me to do something, Bai Shen. I need to make this right.’
‘Then maybe you should take credit for Yan Ling’s transformation. You’re the puppet master, after all.’ There was no hint of amusement or teasing in his friend’s remark. ‘Though you’re right. I have noticed a significant change in her.’
‘I don’t know what we would do if I hadn’t found her.’
Bai Shen regarded him with an oddly contemplative look. It was the sort of look he might take on at the end of a late night, after several rounds of wine had made him melancholy and reflective.
‘Be careful, Fei Long,’ he said sombrely.
‘I’m being very careful. Tong is as sharp as an eagle and he seems out to destroy our reputation. I’m taking every precaution when dealing with him.’
With a sigh, Bai Shen turned around to continue surveying the perimeter. ‘You fool,’ he muttered. ‘That’s not what I was talking about at all.’
Fei Long bit back his reply and watched Bai Shen retreat down the alley. He was being careful about Yan Ling. Diligently so. All of his senses sharpened when she was around. He was always on guard now, even in his own home. That was how careful he was.
Chapter Eight
Yan Ling lay on
her back in bed and blinked at the alcove overhead. She had been up for an hour, staring sightlessly into blackness and waiting for the first sound of the morning birds. She had only slept fitfully through the night. An official notice had come from the ministry offices earlier in the week that the ministry would visit that morning.
Her worries about the dreaded Inspector Tong had chased her deep into her nightmares. She would open her mouth to speak only to find her tongue wouldn’t move. All she could do was sit like a stone statue in her chair, blinking helplessly, while Fei Long glared at her in horror, dishonoured and disappointed.
She woke up and couldn’t fall asleep again. Instead, she waited for the household to awaken. At the sound of footsteps outside, she rose to call Dao into her room.
‘Look at you,’ Dao bemoaned. ‘I told you to get your rest.’
‘Is it that bad?’
The sun hadn’t risen yet and they had to light a lantern in order to comb and pin her hair. Dao frowned as she dusted fine powder beneath her eyes to try to mask the dark circles.
‘I’ll just say I’m losing sleep over the elder Lord Chang— I mean, my father’s death,’ Yan Ling said.
Dao’s frown deepened, making Yan Ling even more agitated. She had been filled with advice over the last few days. Bai Shen told her to speak with her eyes while Fei Long insisted she say as little as possible. She needed to succeed for everyone’s sake.
Once dressed, she went to walk the garden to gather her thoughts, but after a half an hour of that, her feet were sore and her nerves just as taut. She settled onto the stone bench at the edge of the garden as sunlight peeked over the rooftop.
The morning chill settled in around her, but she didn’t want to go back to her chamber. Instead she huddled inside herself, tucking her hands together within the folds of her sleeves.
The kitchen stirred with activity over at the far corner and the scraping of pots and the clatter of dishes reminded her of mornings at the teahouse. If given the choice, would she want to go back? Certainly not. The last weeks in the Chang household had been the happiest time she’d ever known. She wore the fanciest silks and ate delicious meals from painted plates and bowls.
More precious than that, she had companionship. True companionship that came from the time that was her own. Her mornings were spent with Dao or Bai Shen. The afternoons with Fei Long were made of gold and jade. From the moment she woke each morning, she’d wait for their lesson.
All her life, she’d heard only commands. Her master and mistress would tell her what to do and to do it faster. The snatches of gossip and laughter with the cook and the kitchen boy could hardly be called conversation, not after the discussions she had now with Fei Long. Whenever she asked something or said something that made him pause and think, the thrill of victory would rush through her.
Yan Ling was no longer merely mimicking the actions of an educated lady. She was learning. Something was changing inside of her, but was it enough?
‘You’re up very early.’
She knew it was Fei Long before he spoke. She’d sensed him from the moment he came out into the courtyard, yet her pulse still jumped with pleasure as he neared. Every day, she strained to recognise the weight of his footsteps and the echo of his voice from the far reaches of the house. She always knew when he left in the morning and always noted his return. It was a game she played only with herself and there was no way of winning.
Whenever he was home, there would be a chance of meeting in a hallway. She might catch a glimpse as he left a room. How she hungered for those accidental meetings. This time there was nothing accidental about their meeting. Fei Long quite deliberately lowered himself beside her. She shivered as his sleeve brushed against her arm.
‘Are you cold?’
She shook her head, though she pulled her arms tighter around herself, her pulse racing. Fei Long breathed deep to take in the clean essence of the morning, then exhaled slowly. She was already reaching out to take in as much of him as she could: the broad shape of his hands, the quiet strength of his presence. Warmth and security radiated from him.
‘Please don’t give me any more advice,’ she said as he started to speak. A hundred crickets were already chirping away in her head.
‘I was only going to say that you don’t have to worry.’
She nodded, even though she could already feel her tongue growing thick at all the proper speech she would need to coax from it that day.
‘As long as you don’t throw any tea on Inspector Tong, you’ll be all right,’ he continued, amused.
The reminder of their first meeting unsettled her even more. It hinted of a false intimacy between them. They had no right to share such memories.
I’m only doing this for you, she wanted to cry out. Instead it wasn’t even a whisper. He would never truly understand and the knowledge wounded her.
She smoothed her skirt over her knees nervously. ‘I wish Inspector Tong was here right now so it could be done with.’
‘I know.’
‘Maybe you should have asked Bai Shen to stand in and play Pearl instead,’ she suggested.
Fei Long laughed and the warmth from it penetrated the coolness of the morning. ‘You’re much better for the role.’
He sat with her in silence on the stone bench while the sky lightened to purple, then pink. Gradually the morning chased back the shadows.
‘Are you sure you can count on Bai Shen, as unpredictable as he is in the morning?’ she asked.
‘He can always be trusted when there’s a performance. That’s exactly what this morning will be for him.’
Fei Long had moved closer to her, or somehow she had inched closer to him. In another time, in another life, he might put his arm around her. There would be no arranged marriage and no alliance. She’d have more than a few glances and incidental moments between them.
But then, what next? She didn’t even know enough about proper courtship to fill out her misbegotten fantasies.
‘A performance for us as well.’ She looked to him, admiring the strong lines of his profile in the morning light. When he turned to her, she refused to look away. ‘Promise me you’ll stay beside me the entire time.’
‘I promise.’
His gaze held on to her and she knew then that Fei Long wouldn’t let anything happen. She would do this for him. So he could be proud and think well of her.
* * *
Old Liang sent the stable boy to keep watch at the ward gate and he returned with news shortly before the Horse hour. Inspector Tong was heading towards them accompanied only by a single attendant.
‘Minister Cao isn’t with him,’ Dao confirmed as she rushed inside to take her place.
Yan Ling sat upon the couch in the front parlour as they had practised. Fei Long was seated across from her. Her heart pounded so hard she feared it would seize up. Her palms sweated. She rubbed them against her sleeves, but within moments they were damp again.
‘Don’t worry.’ To her surprise, Fei Long reached out to squeeze her hand before rising. ‘You’ll do fine, Pearl.’
He gave her a reassuring nod. The look she returned him was wide-eyed with fear. She felt like a hunted animal caught in a snare while she waited. Voices came from the front of the house and Fei Long disappeared around the corner. This was it. The deception began here and they couldn’t turn back.
‘Dao!’ she whispered fiercely.
‘What?’ The hissed reply came back from behind the screen.
A wave of light-headedness took hold of Yan Ling and her stomach churned. ‘I’m going to faint.’
‘Don’t you dare!’ Dao warned.
And that was the final word. Fei Long had returned with a middle-aged man wearing an indigo robe. His headdress marked him as a government official of high rank. His severe expression marked him as one who hadn’t set out to be cordial.
Yan Ling stood. She didn’t know if the motion was suitably graceful or not. Her knees were shaking.
‘Inspector T
ong.’ She bowed and sent a prayer of thanks to the Goddess of Mercy that her voice didn’t shake as well.
‘Lady Chang.’ The minister fixed his slanted gaze on her. His thick beard and stark eyes reminded her of pictures of the judge of the underworld. ‘This servant is humbled to make your acquaintance.’
Already the exchange had become confusing. Tong was her elder and of unquestionably high rank. Yet he referred to himself as if he were of lower rank. Was it because she was a lady? Being a woman never afforded her any respect in the teahouse. Or was it because she was supposed to take on the rank of princess?
Caught speechless with doubt, Yan Ling bowed again. She was doing that too much, but she couldn’t help herself. ‘Welcome, please. Won’t you have some tea?’
Thank the heavens for tea. How did people ever come together without it?
They took their places in the chairs around the low table. Fei Long sat beside her on the couch, much as he had that morning on the stone bench. He gave her a reassuring look.
‘Are you well, Lady Chang?’ Tong’s voice boomed in the parlour, entirely too loud and strident for such a casual setting. ‘You seem pale.’
‘Umm…perhaps I’ve been avoiding the sun lately. It…umm…makes me dizzy.’
Tong frowned. ‘I hope you’re well enough for the long journey.’
‘My sister is quite well,’ Fei Long cut in. ‘Though perhaps nervous. She has lived here all her life.’
‘Yes, but I’m also quite excited,’ Yan Ling chimed in, a bit too emphatically. ‘And I hear the Khitans like fair-skinned women.’
What were these words coming from her lips? Fei Long stiffened beside her, but said nothing. Dao came out with the tea tray as rehearsed. The porcelain cups rattled together as she set the tray down on the table in an echo of Yan Ling’s jostled nerves.
In her flustered state, she made another mistake, reaching out to grab the teapot. Dao’s hand collided against hers. Inspector Tong’s gaze bore down on her.
How long was this visit going to last? She was already sweating beneath the layers of gauze and silk. Yan Ling poured the tea for all of them and then sat back, her hands folded so tightly in her lap that her knuckles ached. That would keep her from doing anything else inappropriate with them.