The Hidden Moon Read online

  The Hidden Moon Copyright © 2020 by Jeannie Lin

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  * * *

  Cover design © Deranged Doctor Design (www.derangeddoctordesign.com)

  Cover photographs © Linxi Photo (www.lx-photo.com)

  Digital Edition 1.0

  * * *

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Cast of Characters

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Author's Note

  Other Books by Jeannie Lin

  Cast of Characters

  Note: The family name comes first for characters who have both given and family names listed. I.e. Bai Huang has a given name of Huang and a family name of Bai.

  Bai Wei-ling-Known as Wei-wei. The only daughter of the Bai family. Protagonist of The Liar’s Dice and The Hidden Moon.

  Gao-A street-smart informer who has worked with Bai Huang in the past. First appeared in The Lotus Palace.

  Secondary Characters

  Yue-ying-Former servant in the Lotus Palace pleasure house. Bai Huang’s wife and Mingyu’s sister. Protagonist of The Lotus Palace.

  Bai Huang-Wealthy and handsome aristocrat, known for being a playboy. Yue-ying’s husband and Wei-wei’s elder brother. Protagonist of The Lotus Palace.

  Mingyu-Former courtesan in the Lotus Palace pleasure house. Married to Wu Kaifeng. Yue-ying’s older sister. Protagonist of The Jade Temptress.

  Wu Kaifeng-Former head constable of Chang’an known for his exacting and intimidating demeanor. Mingyu’s husband. Protagonist of The Jade Temptress.

  Li Chen- County magistrate responsible for investigating crimes and administering justice in the eastern half of the capital. First appeared in The Lotus Palace.

  Zhou Dan- Servant in the Bai family mansion.

  Bai Chang-min-Wei-wei and Huang’s seventeen-year-old half-brother.

  Prologue

  Tang Dynasty China, 849 A.D.

  * * *

  At night, the imperial capital became a place of lanterns and shadows. A puzzle board of gated wards. The messenger rode through the streets, past dark alleys and crossroads. Crowds gathered in the night markets to seek out evening refreshment. He urged his horse past the street life to hurry toward the gates. Soon the lights died away.

  Though he could not see his pursuers, he knew they were there. He was being hunted. If he could make it past these walls, and out to the main arteries of Chang’an where the city guards patrolled — if he could make it free of this maze, then he could deliver the message.

  There was a bridge ahead. Just beyond that, a row of torches from a night patrol. Their appearance brought hope, and he dug in his heels to ride toward them. His horse’s hooves clopped against the stones of the bridge and echoed out into the night. The water of the canal flowed below like a shimmer of glossy ink, reflecting the torchlight against its black depths.

  The patrol turned at the sound of his approach to start toward him. As the circle closed in, the messenger realized it wasn’t the guards coming to his aid after all.

  There was no time for decision. No chance to flee or fight. An invisible force hit him in the back of his shoulder, lodging near his shoulder blade. The next impact struck him square in chest, unseating him. He plummeted into the water and his message was lost forever, swallowed by the murky depths.

  Chapter 1

  Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth. — Ancient Proverb

  * * *

  Wei-wei was dreaming of flight, the rush of wind, and the glare of sunlight, when a rapping sound startled her awake. The dream tore away like paper and she opened her eyes to darkness. There was more knocking.

  Feeling her way through the chamber, she reached for the door and opened it. Her brother stood there, framed by the moonlit courtyard.

  “Huang.” She was still foggy with sleep.

  “It’s time.” A faint worry line was etched between his eyes, disrupting the smoothly sculpted contours of his face.

  She didn’t need to ask time for what. Huang’s wife was past the ninth month of her pregnancy. The entire household had been waiting — any day, any day now. But the tightness in her eldest brother’s voice made her pulse quicken.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Is Yue-ying alright?”

  “She’s asking for her sister. Can you take the carriage—?”

  “Of course. I’ll get dressed.”

  He handed his lantern to her and closed the door. It was still so dark outside. Was it the middle of the night or close to morning? Something wasn’t quite right. As Wei-wei reached into her dresser, a feeling of unease hovered over her.

  She was worried about her sister-in-law and the baby, of course. She and Yue-ying had become close over the last year.

  Wei-wei grabbed her simplest hanfu robe. The garment was fashioned of muted green silk and draped over her underclothes. She knotted a sash around her waist, then smoothed her hands through her hair, coiling it high into a knot. She fixed her hair in place with a wooden pin, hoping she didn’t look too dreadful considering she was dressing in the dark.

  That was when she figured out what was bothering her. It was her brother’s appearance. Huang didn’t look as if he’d just been roused out of bed. He’d been in full uniform, dressed in his state robe and official headdress. Huang looked ready to report to the Imperial City.

  He was gone from the courtyard when Wei-wei opened the door. The rest of the household had woken up by then. She could hear the servants’ voices, and Yue-ying’s bed chamber was lit up. A startled cry pierced the night air, making Wei-wei jump. The midwife was urging Yue-ying to walk while Yue-ying was breathing hard, biting back sobs.

  Wei-wei didn’t know how long babies took to come, but she had a feeling she should hurry. Pregnancies and babies and motherhood were all a mystery to her. There were no books on the subject in their library. All she knew was that childhood had been painfully difficult for her own mother. So much that Mother wouldn’t risk it again. She had insisted Father take a concubine after Wei-wei was born.

  One of their servants, Zhou Dan, was already at the gate leading out to the stable. He undid the latch and held the gate open for her before moving to ready the horse and carriage.

  The Zhou family had attended hers for over a generation now. Zhou Dan had grown up in the household alongside her and Huang, having been born in the year between them. He was almost like another brother, though, unlike her actual brothers, Zhou Dan was supposed to oblige her.

  He worked qu
ickly while hitching up the horse, his lanky form casting shadows in the lantern light. Then he turned to help her up before climbing into the driver’s seat.

  “Take me to Pingkang li,” she told him.

  “I remember,” Zhou Dan replied, urging the horse forward.

  This wasn’t the first time she’d taken the carriage out at night to go to the pleasure quarter. She’d done it without permission the other times. It was only a week ago that Huang had discovered what she was doing and tore up the ward pass she had forged. Zhou Dan still shot her the occasional cross look over dragging him into trouble.

  She was glad that Huang had asked her to go now. At least there was something she could do to help.

  As the carriage pulled around to the front of the mansion, Wei-wei could see a group of strangers assembled outside their gate. What business could they possibly have? It was hours before sunrise.

  It was only when they moved past that she saw the men were flanked by the city guards. They were dressed in full armor, swords at their belts and spears in hand.

  It was still dark outside and the roads empty by the time the carriage reached the ward gates. Morning was just peeking through the edges of the night sky. Yue-ying’s baby had decided to come into the world before the city had fully woken up.

  Chang’an was divided into over a hundred wards, each one walled and gated. Each ward was designed to be a stronghold onto itself during a siege, which wasn’t as unlikely as one would think.

  The carriage was stopped by a pair of guards at the southern gate. Zhou Dan produced a pass stamped with the Bai family seal, and the guardsman made a note in his log book before waving them through. They emerged out onto a main thoroughfare and immediately headed south on the grid.

  The Bai family mansion was located in the northeast section of the city, in the residential wards closest to the imperial palaces. Yue-ying’s sister lived several wards away in the Pingkang quarter. The carriage rolled the East Market and several guard towers as the sky lightened overhead. It would take over an hour to bring Mingyu back.

  Once they reached Pingkang li, Zhou Dan showed the pass again to enter. This neighborhood was markedly different from where Wei-wei and her family lived. The northeastern part of the city was characterized by wide lanes and large private residences. Here, the buildings were packed in tight, separated by narrow streets and alleyways.

  Pingkang li was famous for its pleasure quarter, where scholars and nobleman came to drink and be entertained by specially trained courtesans. The most notorious courtesan houses were located in the center of the ward, while the northern section was home to a multitude of smaller drinking houses, shops, and laborer’s tenements. It was definitely the seedier part of the ward which, Wei-wei had to admit, she’d recently become familiar with.

  Gambling dens were illegal in Chang’an, but they were tolerated as long as the owners paid off the right officials. Brothels, on the other hand, were perfectly legal, and they thrived here in the north side as well.

  Mingyu and her husband had recently opened a tea house in the area, garnering a steady stream of customers. Mingyu’s former status as a celebrated courtesan had something to do with that. Even at this early hour, the tea house already had patrons coming and going.

  Zhou Dan pulled the carriage to the side of the establishment, and Wei-wei hurried up the steps to the entrance. She pulled aside the beaded curtain to peer inside. She immediately found Mingyu. Her silk robe was a vibrant spot of blue like a robin’s egg in a gray nest. She breezed through the tea room as if walking on clouds.

  Mingyu had been known as one of the Four Great Beauties of the pleasure district with her fine-boned features and ivory pale complexion. She continued to draw attention in the humbler setting of the northern section.

  Mingyu’s eyes widened when she saw Wei-wei.

  “Is it Yue-ying?” she asked. “How is she? How is the baby?”

  “Everyone is fine.” At least Wei-wei hoped so. The whole affair seemed frightening even under the best of circumstances. “She’s asking for you.”

  A towering shadow appeared beside Mingyu. Her husband Wu Kaifeng was also well-known, but for different reasons. He took the tea tray from her hands, and indicated that she should go with a curt nod. Wu was a man of few words and fewer social graces.

  Wei-wei turned to go, but stopped just short of colliding into a wall that had suddenly appeared. Not a wall, exactly. Someone was standing closer to her than courtesy allowed.

  Wei-wei glanced up, and was startled into silence by a familiar face, angled and hard at the edges, with a jaw roughened with stubble. She could feel her heartbeat coming awake to thump inside her chest.

  “Gao,” she said, her breath catching. He only went by the one name which forced her into familiarity.

  “Lady Bai.”

  Her chest flooded with warmth.

  With his height and the sharpness of his features, Gao presented an intimidating figure, but he held himself with a sort of loose-limbed casualness that called that impression into question. He belonged here and the people who walked these streets seemed to know it and bestow a measure of trust onto him because of it. Her brother certainly did.

  Gao looked exactly as she remembered, exactly as she’d imagined him whenever she’d closed her eyes. He was spare of build, whipcord-lean, and dressed in a dark tunic. In the dimness of the morning, he could have disappeared into the shadows. Barely there, yet ever so present.

  “It’s been seven days,” she ventured, then bit her lip. That made it sound like she’d been keeping count. Which she had.

  His dark gaze held hers for a long moment. “It has been.”

  Gao wasn’t smiling, but the corner of his mouth twisted upward as if curiously pleased. For her part, Wei-wei couldn’t say what she was feeling. She’d considered that she might never see Gao again. Someone like Gao and someone like her. A desert and a stream — their paths were never meant to cross.

  “My brother’s wife is having her baby.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Everyone else at home was occupied,” she explained, for lack of other things to say.

  “Right.”

  She searched for her next words. He seemed to be doing the same, brow furrowed. The last time they’d seen one another, there was tragedy and scandal involved. Gao had intervened in a potentially dangerous situation to help her and her brother. It seemed inadequate now to pleasantly inquire about his health.

  A throat cleared loudly behind her. Mingyu stood there, staring impatiently at the two of them.

  Mingyu was known for her sharp wit and clever conversation. She must have thought they were babbling like children.

  “Should we be going, Lady Bai?”

  “Yes. Yes.” She turned away from Gao, flustered. Zhou Dan was waiting right at the corner beside the carriage. She signaled him and he climbed into the driver’s seat to pull the carriage closer to the tea house.

  “I have to go now,” she told Gao hastily.

  “Of course, Lady Bai.”

  Gao gave a slight bow as Wei-wei turned rush down the steps. She caught Mingyu’s pointed look as they climbed into the carriage. Zhou Dan urged the horse forward down the street.

  “Be careful around that one,” Mingyu warned, glancing back at the tea house. “He’s trouble.”

  Gao remained at the steps, his piercing eyes fixed onto her.

  “Why would you say that?” Wei-wei cringed at how her voice cracked. She was usually much better at claiming innocence.

  “One hears things.”

  She still didn’t know what to feel about him. Wei-wei couldn’t deny that she was drawn to Gao, while the rational part of her reminded her that she had a habit of being too trusting. However, the last time she’d made that mistake, it had been Gao who had come to her aid.

  Her rational mind could argue back and forth with itself forever.

  Was it Gao’s connections to criminal elements or his questionable morals that Mingyu
had heard about? But Gao and her brother were associated in some way, so that must mean he could be trusted. Didn’t it?

  “Baseless rumors, I’m sure,” she said hopefully.

  “Lady Bai,” Mingyu admonished. Her gaze remained fixed straight ahead as the carriage rolled toward the ward gates. “You don’t need me to tell you these things.”

  Wei-wei let out a drawn-out breath. The last time she’d encountered Gao, she’d nearly been abducted by the local crime lord. Maybe she did need to be told these things, and very firmly.

  Bai Huang had encountered death before in his position, but not like this.

  He stood on one of the capital’s wide main roads that lead to the palace, and stared cluster of bodies strewn in the center. The guards had formed a barricade around the area to keep civilians away. The wards would open soon and this street would be flooded with traffic.

  Huang took a deep breath to steel himself before moving forward. He stepped carefully past a scattering of arrows and averted his eyes when he saw one embedded in a man’s throat. The victim lay rigid upon the ground with sightless eyes pointed heavenward. Four others accompanied him. They had been traveling early in the morning toward the palace section when arrows had rained down on them, ending their lives. He glanced up to the surrounding mansions. Someone had gotten onto the rooftops to launch this attack.