My Fair Concubine

by Jeannie Lin

  He blinked up at her. ‘What’s wrong with Fei Long?’

  At that moment, Dao rushed over with the basin and upended it over his head. Yan Ling yelped and jumped back as water splashed everywhere.

  ‘Fox demon!’ he boomed, shooting to his feet. ‘What in heaven is wrong with you, woman?’

  ‘I just meant for you to splash some onto his face,’ Yan Ling protested.

  Dao sputtered, affronted. ‘I didn’t know!’

  Bai Shen swiped the water out of his eyes. ‘What’s wrong with Fei Long?’ he repeated, a bit more lively this time.

  ‘He went out hours ago and hasn’t returned.’ Yan Ling showed him the address that Old Man Liang had given her. ‘I think he went to pay a debt.’

  Bai Shen raked a hand through his damp hair and blew out a breath. ‘The gambling dens. This must be Boss Zōu’s place.’

  She didn’t know who Boss Zōu was, but her stomach turned at the way he spoke the name. Her fears were further confirmed when Bai Shen grabbed a sword hooked onto the wall. He pulled his hair back into a topknot and pinned it.

  ‘Let’s go.’

  It was the most serious expression she’d ever seen on the actor’s face.

  Chapter Sixteen

  All evidence of his earlier stupor faded as Bai Shen walked the night streets. Yan Ling wondered whether this confidence was merely an act, but it didn’t matter. She and Dao crowded close to him, borrowing from his courage as he pushed on through darkened alleys and deserted lanes.

  ‘Fei Long didn’t tell me he was mixed up with the Bull,’ he said.

  ‘He didn’t tell anyone.’ Yan Ling looked over her shoulder. She kept on imagining something jumping out at them from the shadows. ‘Why are there no guard patrols in this area?’

  ‘They remain scarce on purpose so they can deny any knowledge of the gambling and the black markets. Good business for everyone.’

  Dao clutched a lantern with one hand and held on to Yan Ling with the other. ‘It must be the elder Lord Chang’s debt. Everyone knew he couldn’t resist a wager.’

  Fei Long had kept this burden to himself. Yan Ling hoped his father’s spirit wouldn’t be angry that they were speaking ill of him. They would need both the Goddess of Mercy and the Chang family ancestors to protect Fei Long.

  ‘You two better hide back here while I go up to the Bull’s headquarters,’ Bai Shen said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘They say he likes to acquire pretty young concubines.’ The grave look he gave them made Yan Ling shudder. ‘We don’t want to give him any ideas about potential exchanges.’

  She didn’t like the idea of hiding out in the alley, but she didn’t want to meet this crime lord either. ‘What if he’s killed Fei Long?’ she asked, her throat closing up. ‘What if he takes you, too?’

  ‘He wouldn’t do anything like that. Zōu is a businessman and it’s in his interest to keep the peace. Fei Long isn’t some drunken gambler Zōu can sink a knife into without anyone noticing.’

  The blood drained from Yan Ling’s face at the harsh picture Bai Shen painted. Her fingers went to ice.

  ‘Damn that mouth of yours!’ Dao scolded.

  ‘We’ll find him,’ Bai Shen amended sheepishly.

  They ducked into the side street to find a place to wait it out. As they turned the corner, a sudden movement between the buildings caught Yan Ling’s eye. Two men stood over a third who lay on the ground. The dull glint of metal in one man’s hand slammed her heart against her ribcage.

  With a battle cry, Bai Shen unsheathed his sword and rushed forwards while the two of them were left scrambling after him. The men in the alleyway tensed and swung around just as Bai Shen broke into a screaming charge.

  Suddenly he launched himself from the ground, twisted in mid-air to execute a flip and landed with the sure-footed grace of a cat. He braised his sword dramatically and the men scrambled away.

  ‘What was that?’ Yan Lin demanded, incredulous at his theatrics.

  ‘This is only a prop sword,’ Bai Shen replied, waving the blade.

  She moved cautiously toward the man sprawled on the ground, then started running when she recognised the robe. Fei Long moved his head weakly as she came near. The side of his face was dark with bruises. All the breath rushed out of her as she fell to her knees beside him.

  ‘Fei Long.’ Yan Ling choked back her tears, afraid to touch or move him. All she could do was place her fingertips gently against the side of his cheek so he’d know he was no longer alone.

  Bai Shen and Dao came up behind her. Bai Shen went to kneel opposite her.

  ‘The death of me,’ he muttered. ‘Fei Long, can you move?’

  Bai Shen gently probed along his ribs. Fei Long winced, curling into himself in pain.

  Looking at Fei Long’s battered body made Yan Ling sick to her soul. ‘Can we take him out of here?’

  ‘He’s not spitting blood, but I can’t tell if his ribs are broken.’

  ‘Fei Long.’ She leaned close and took hold of his hand. His fingers tightened weakly around hers. ‘We’re going to move you very slowly.’

  With Bai Shen on one side and her on the other, they raised Fei Long gradually to a sitting position. He groaned with the effort. He was heavy, unable to help or resist. It was as if the man inside the body had been reduced to a pitiful mass of bone and flesh.

  ‘I found his sword.’ Dao came up to them with the weapon in her hands.

  ‘He gave them a good fight,’ Bai Shen said fiercely.

  What did that matter? Fei Long was hurt, beaten and abandoned in these streets. But the anger seemed to vitalise Bai Shen. Anger was the only way to react and not fall into despair.

  Fei Long’s lips worked silently and she had to lean in close.

  ‘Zōu,’ he said.

  The wheeze in his breath frightened her. He was only able to open one eye to peer at them. The other one was swollen shut. Crying would not help. She would not cry.

  ‘We have to get him home,’ she said.

  Bai Shen nodded, his expression tense. ‘Stand him up.’

  She had to hook Fei Long’s arm over her shoulder to lift him. Bai Shen took his other arm and they raised him as carefully as they could. Fei Long sucked in a breath as she put her arm around his waist, but didn’t cry out. It was just like Fei Long to swallow his pain in silence, but there was no hiding what those animals had done to him.

  Once Fei Long was on his feet, they started walking him slowly towards the street. Dao picked up the prop sword and they made their way back to the less seedy parts of the district. Fei Long’s chin dropped against his chest and his weight sagged against her. His feet dragged along at their urging. He would have collapsed the moment they let go.

  As they entered the thoroughfare of the entertainment district, more than a few spectators stopped to stare at the odd procession.

  ‘Too much to drink,’ Bai Shen declared.

  Fei Long appeared even worse in the light. His face was bleeding and he barely looked like the man she knew. His eyes were shut and she couldn’t tell if he’d passed out.

  At the ward gate, Yan Ling scrambled to think of a story to tell the guard, but Bai Shen was ready. He fished a silver coin from his belt.

  ‘The lord would appreciate being returned to his bed as soon as possible,’ he said. ‘And if his wife didn’t find out.’

  To his credit, the guardsman did check Fei Long to make sure he was breathing. Dao thoughtfully angled the lantern away during the inspection. The guard then looked over the quality of their clothes and seemed to accept the story. The coin was the most convincing part. It disappeared into his palm with a quick wink of silver.

  * * *

  When they reached the mansion, Dao ran ahead to open the gates while Yan Ling and Bai Shen led Fei Long inside. The walls enclosed them like the embrace of an old friend, but there was no relief yet. Fei Long still wasn’t moving.

  ‘Old Liang, we need a physician,’ she said when the steward met the
m in the hallway to Fei Long’s chamber. Then to Bai Shen, ‘Go with him, please.’

  Bai Shen was wily and knew all the tricks. He took Fei Long the remaining distance to the bedchamber and laid him as gently as possible on the bed. Then he hurried off with the steward to fetch a physician.

  ‘I’ll bring some water,’ Dao volunteered, rushing away.

  Yan Ling understood the sentiment. Everyone wanted something to do, even if it was something insignificant, to keep the overwhelming helplessness from sweeping in.

  ‘Yan…Ling.’ Each word came out in a laboured puff of breath.

  Fei Long stirred as she rushed to his side. ‘You’re home.’ She brushed her fingers tenderly over his face, keeping her touch as light as possible. ‘Bai Shen is going to get a doctor. Do you need anything?’

  It was important for her to keep on talking, though she didn’t know why. After a long pause, Fei Long opened his eyes. He swallowed with difficulty and his voice came out as a faint rasp. She leaned in to hear.

  ‘Your hands feel cool,’ he murmured before closing his eyes again.

  The knot in her chest tugged loose and pain poured into her until she didn’t know if she could hurt any worse. Yan Ling laid her head down, her cheek against his. She was able to hold back her sob, but couldn’t keep the tears from spilling.

  * * *

  Bai Shen and Old Man Liang returned with the physician who they’d roused out of bed at this late hour. Everyone waited anxiously in the parlour during his examination and Dao made tea that sat in the pot, growing tepid. At one point, the physician called for assistance and Bai Shen went to his aid.

  After an hour, the physician left with a promise to return in a few days. They surrounded Bai Shen once he emerged.

  ‘Broken ribs on his left side,’ he reported. ‘He needs to rest in bed for several weeks and move as little as possible. This will help the pain.’ He handed a small parcel wrapped in paper to Dao. ‘There’s enough for tonight. The physician said you can get more from the herbalist tomorrow.’ Then he gave a short bow to no one in particular. ‘The show is over. Li Bai Shen will take his leave now.’

  Bai Shen looked worn through and through. His feeble attempt at good humour only highlighted the ordeal.

  Yan Ling stopped him as he was about to step out into the courtyard. ‘Why don’t you stay? It’s so late and you can get some sleep here.’

  He flashed her a half-smile. ‘You remember what Fei Long said.’

  At first she was confused. Then she realised he was referring to when he’d kissed her to make Fei Long jealous. It seemed like a memory from a previous life.

  ‘That can hardly matter now,’ she insisted.

  Bai Shen’s smile widened, but his eyes remained morose. A faint discolouring still showed on his jaw. ‘That man takes every word he says very seriously.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said as he turned to go.

  ‘Fei Long is strong. He’ll be all right, my pretty lady.’ He added the last part to tell her to smile and she tried, but only out of obligation.

  Bai Shen disappeared through the gate.

  A little while later, Dao returned from the kitchen with

  the medicinal brew. Yan Ling moved to take it, but Dao stopped her.

  ‘I’ll do it,’ Dao said, gently but firmly. She fixed a meaningful look on Yan Ling that was full of challenge.

  As if a few moments alone in his chamber would make any difference. Yan Ling could rip out the seedlings of emotion that sprouted at the surface, but what she felt for Fei Long had taken root much deeper.

  * * *

  Every movement hurt. Breathing hurt. So Fei Long lay in bed and tried to move and breathe as little as possible, though he wanted nothing more than to grab his sword and storm into Zōu’s stronghold.

  He knew exactly which strike had broken his ribs. Four men had surrounded him in the street and crowded him into the alleyway. His sword had been wrestled from his hands and his fists couldn’t hold them off for long. A blow to his face had staggered him to his knees. Then a kick to his left side knocked the wind from him. The fight drained away in a streak of black, radiating pain. After that, the blows had kept coming.

  All this took on some form and structure as he laid there thinking and re-thinking through the last hours. At the time, there had been nothing but the rage of the attack and a haze of pain.

  Someone came to spoon a bitter brew into his mouth. At first he thought it was Yan Ling, but it was only Dao. He tried to refuse. The thought of eating or drinking turned his stomach, but she was insistent. Eventually he was able to sleep as long as he remained flat on his back. Even the slightest shift brought back the pain in his side, like the stab of a dull knife.

  * * *

  He didn’t know what time it was when he woke enough to call for assistance. There was light seeping in from outside and he could hear faint sounds of activity from the other parts of the house. He had survived the night and morning had come.

  His entire body throbbed and he couldn’t even sit up on his own. An attendant came quickly to help him up and he bit back the indignity of it.

  ‘Bring Miss Yan Ling here,’ he instructed.

  He leaned against the alcove wall, curling his fists tight and counting the minutes. He tried to convince himself he could will back the pain and push it to the back of his mind, but it didn’t work.

  ‘You’re not supposed to be up,’ Yan Ling snapped the moment she set foot in the room.

  She set aside the tray in her hands and spent the next agonising minutes lowering him back onto the bed. Fei Long gritted his teeth against the jagged, piercing sensation at his side. By the time he was lying down again, he was out of breath and gasping shallowly. All this for a few inches of effort.

  Yan Ling propped his head up slightly with the padded head rest and lifted a small bowl from the tray. He recognised the acrid, earthen smell.

  ‘Drink,’ she ordered, putting a spoonful to his lips.

  It tasted like dirt and tree bark. He forced the brew down, before trying to speak. ‘This isn’t why I asked you to come.’

  ‘Again,’ she demanded.

  She was relentless, spooning him the rest of the herbal tea with no conversation in between. Her expression remained hard and determined when he would have killed for a kind look from her. And he would have died rather than ask for it.

  ‘And now the soup,’ she said.

  ‘Not now.’

  ‘You haven’t eaten. The kitchen made this for you.’

  He shook his head vehemently despite the ache it caused.

  Then she became coaxing. ‘Please try.’

  ‘No, Yan Ling.’

  With a long sigh, she set the soup aside. ‘Later, then.’

  She sat on the edge of his bed, hands folded in her lap. Her gaze became distant and he closed his eyes not to have to see what had been so starkly revealed.

  Yan Ling cared for him.

  She cared for him so much that she fought not to show it, because he’d told her it was unacceptable.

  ‘It’s not so bad,’ he said. Every word was an effort.

  ‘You’re lying,’ she pronounced.

  The physician had wrapped and bound his torso to restrict the movement and aid the healing. It added to his feeling of helplessness. He had to collect his strength for the next request.

  ‘If you could go into my study and bring the ledger book…’ He paused, gathering and catching his breath. ‘And a leather satchel with important papers. You’ve seen me with it.’

  Only when she had left did he open his eyes. When he’d lain beaten in that alleyway, he was certain that death was close. The attackers would come back to cut his throat and there was nothing he could do about it. The sound of Yan Ling’s voice had called him back from the abyss.

  Did she need any more proof than his broken body to show that he wasn’t able to provide for her? He was about to give her that proof.

  By the time she returned, the pain had receded to
a dull throb, but it was still there, clinging and prodding at his muscles. The edge of it dulled enough for him to unclench his fists. He hoped the drug would leave his mind clear enough to do what needed to be done.

  Yan Ling set the book and box of paper next to him and lowered herself at the edge of the bed beside his knees. He hated that he had to do this lying down, like an invalid.

  ‘Open the ledger,’ he said. ‘Inside is the list of debts our family has incurred over the past years.’

  ‘You mean your father?’

  ‘Our family,’ he insisted. ‘There’s also—’ He took a breath. If he spoke slowly and tonelessly, he could go longer. ‘There’s also a list of earnings from different sales.’

  ‘The cranes,’ she said, realising. ‘And the vases and ivory carvings.’

  He nodded. ‘And some of our lands as well. I’ve been able to satisfy most of the creditors, but Zōu didn’t just want the money. I collected enough to cover my father’s debt to him. It nearly emptied all we had.’

  Yan Ling scanned the ledger, her lips moving as she added the columns. She might not be able to read all the notations, but she would understand the figures.

  ‘Two million? Oh, Fei Long—’

  ‘I never got to Zōu,’ he said, cutting off her reply. Her pity would destroy him. ‘They stopped me in the streets and stole the money. I’m certain it was his men.’

  ‘You have to go to the head of the ward, then.’

  ‘The head of the North Hamlet is in the pocket of the slum lords.’

  She closed the book, her mouth set in anger. ‘Then go higher. What about Minister Cao?’

  ‘I can’t go to Cao. Don’t you see? It would ruin us.’ He struggled to sit up, but Yan Ling moved to him, pressing firmly against his shoulders to remind him not to move.

  ‘Stop, Fei Long. You’re getting too excited.’

  She was so close. Her gently curved mouth was right above him, out of reach.

  ‘Minister Cao has staked his reputation to help us already,’ he said, resigned. ‘I can’t go to Cao and insult him with this mess.’

  ‘Then what will you do?’ She frowned, not understanding, but with no choice but to accept.