The Lotus Palace Read online

  “I haven’t seen you here before, my lord,” Lin Li said.

  “Then I’ve been neglectful,” he teased.

  Huang didn’t want the commissioner thinking he was the sole reason for the visit, so he continued his banter with the courtesan while keeping an eye on Ma Jun.

  Lin Li offered wine to him. He complained about having to drink alone. She demurred and sipped along with him. They spoke about themselves. The courtesan had a way of speaking so softly that he had to lean in close to hear her. She called him handsome with a bashful flutter of her lashes. That was still pleasing to hear, he had to admit.

  By the time Lin Li was getting a little bolder in her flirtation, Ma Jun’s two guests had disappeared into the back, presumably to private rooms. Huang made eye contact with the commissioner for the third time that evening, each time frowning as if trying to recall where they’d met.

  “Commissioner Ma?” he finally asked.

  The man regarded him with a similar frown of almost recognition while Lin Li murmured in disappointment. She was attempting to lay her head on Huang’s shoulder when he rose to approach the commissioner.

  “It is you!” Huang shook his finger at him. “We met at the chancellor’s banquet the other night. Commissioner Ma Jun, the man who knows everyone. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Huang, family name of Bai.”

  “Of course, Lord Bai. I know that name very well. Please sit.”

  Lin Li smoothly glided over as well, pouring wine for the both of them.

  “I haven’t been here before.” Huang looked about the room. “It’s very comfortable, isn’t it?”

  “Well, you should come more often. It’s so much more relaxing than some of the larger establishments. Good for conversation. And the ladies are just as lovely and talented.”

  He laughed, agreeing wholeheartedly, and gave Lin Li a sly smile. Then he insisted on buying more wine for the commissioner and after a few cups they were becoming fast friends. Such was the open atmosphere of the Pingkang li.

  “Haven’t I also seen you at the House of a Hundred Songs?” Huang asked, refilling Ma Jun’s cup himself.

  “It’s likely. I’ve been known to visit.”

  “A tragedy, what happened to that poor girl there.”

  “Lady Huilan,” Ma Jun said, sighing long and loud. “She was a rare flower.”

  They raised their cups and drank. After Huang finished his wine, he pressed on. “Were you close to her?”

  “She served as hostess for our gatherings every so often. A great talent.”

  “Gatherings such as these?” Huang indicated the two seats that had been recently vacated by the unfamiliar men.

  “Traders from Guangzhou,” Ma Jun answered easily. “As head of the East Market Commission, I deal with many different merchants. It’s always easier to discuss business over wine and music.”

  “It must be difficult to go back to the Hundred Songs now that Huilan is gone. It just won’t be the same without her,” Huang remarked, shaking his head.

  Ma Jun nodded. He rubbed a hand over his beard and looked genuinely sad. Huang was disappointed at how pleasant and accommodating the commissioner was. Ma was keeping his distance and not admitting that he and Huilan had been intimate in any way, but those sorts of things were not discussed among gentlemen, and most certainly not after her tragic end. Huang was hoping for a shifty gaze, sudden anger or a tremor in the other man’s hands, which might indicate guilt.

  “I hear that her ghost haunts the Hundred Songs,” Huang ventured.

  He knew he was reaching, but some men, even the strong, stalwart sort, would tremble at the mere mention of ghosts. As it was, Ma Jun only looked at him oddly as if he’d had too much to drink. Poor Lin Li, however, did turn pale.

  “Just a rumor I had heard.” He shrugged, quickly downing more wine.

  Commissioner Ma was less forthcoming after that. Likely because he thought Lord Bai Huang might be a raving madman. They moved on to more neutral topics.

  “There are so many considerations to keep the market running peacefully,” the commissioner said. “There are regulations on quality and price. Which merchants and goods are allowed to be sold inside the walls of the East Market.”

  It was Lin Li who saved him from utter boredom. The courtesan detected Huang’s feigned interest as the conversation veered toward types of wood and shipping from the southern provinces.

  “Come with me, my lord,” she whispered, her breath warm against his ear.

  He did so gladly.

  Lin Li took him by the hand and led him down a dark hallway into a chamber. The bed was arranged against one wall and there was a painting of sparrows and plum blossoms hung above it. He could tell from the brushwork and calligraphy that it was of low quality.

  As soon as they were inside Lin Li drew a curtain across the doorway and flowed into his arms. Her perfume once again floated over him. The scent was as delicate and undemanding as she was. Large, luminous eyes fixed on him, the pupils darkening slightly. She liked what she saw. His pulse beat faster.

  She ran her hands over his shoulders and down to the front of his robe while his entire body tensed. Huang laid his hand over hers with a firm grip, halting the touch.

  The courtesan’s smile didn’t waver. “You’re in love with someone.”

  He shook his head, though his mouth curved faintly.

  Her lashes fluttered. “You can forget her for a while, if you want...or not.”

  “I had a suspicion you were not as shy as you appeared.”

  Lin Li’s smile widened at that, flashing both dimples. She was quite lovely. On top of that, she was pleasant, soft-spoken and undemanding. They could spend an hour secluded together and he would leave relaxed and invigorated. But it wasn’t his intention for coming here and, even worse than that, he found himself imagining what Yue-ying would say to him, or rather not say to him, if she could see him right now. He pictured the exact look on her face.

  When had Yue-ying inserted herself into his head?

  “Let us talk instead,” he said.

  Without argument, Lin Li rolled onto her side with her cheek resting on her palm. If she showed any sign of disappointment, he’d certainly missed it.

  He settled in at the edge of the bed. “Does Commissioner Ma come here often?”

  Her answer came without hesitation. “Once or twice a week. More often since the tragedy at the Hundred Songs.”

  “Does he always bring associates with him?”

  “Always. He tries very much to appear more impressive than he is. Unlike you.”

  Huang laughed. “I’m completely unimpressive.”

  “He would come to us with the ones he considered unrefined,” she said. “Foreign merchants or the less wealthy ones. Here, one can listen to a song girl, have wine poured and even come back for a few moments in the bedchamber. I’ve heard the commissioner saying all this to Mother. All the same pleasantries of the central and southern lanes, but for only a portion of the expense. Most of the outsiders don’t know the difference between one courtesan or another.”

  The dear girl showed no signs of being upset that she was being compared to a commodity in the market and an inferior one at that. Huang shifted uncomfortably. Lin Li’s words echoed what Yue-ying had accused him of once: that he thought of all the women of the Pingkang li as interchangeable.

  It was easy to see how Ma Jun traded access to the market in exchange for bribes, but, other than being somewhat unscrupulous, Huang hadn’t found anything that pointed to his propensity to commit murder.

  “The courtesan, the one who died, she was a favorite of his, wasn’t she?” Lin Li asked.

  “I’ve heard it said so.”

  “And he was there the night she was strangled?” She saw his look of surprise and shrugged. “One hears things.”

  “If you hear anything else from the commissioner, I would like to know about it,” he said.

  “How do I find you?”

  “I usu
ally drink at the Lotus.”

  “You must be quite wealthy. I let you get away too easily.”

  She really was quite charming. If only it wasn’t an act. In truth, it was an act and it wasn’t. Just as he was a scoundrel and he wasn’t.

  “I enjoyed our conversation, Lin Li,” he said, standing to take his leave.

  Rather than bowing, she reached out to touch his arm. “Farewell, Lord Bai.”

  Before departing, he paid the headmistress for the wine and Lin Li’s attentions, as chaste as they were. As he exited the pleasure house the evening had just begun. He wandered back toward the more refined establishments along the southern lane.

  The lanterns were lit in the rooftop of the Lotus Palace and all the windows were aglow. He could hear the sound of laughter from within. None of the laughter would belong to Yue-ying. She was always the quietest person in the room. Did she ever laugh? Other than to mock him, that was?

  His body was still flushed, desire uncomfortably awakened. His various activities lately had left him little time for falling into bed with courtesans, but he hadn’t abstained from female company since returning to the city.

  If he went inside, he would have to pretend to court Mingyu while hoping to catch the attention of her maidservant. Yue-ying would have to watch him fumble and fawn over another woman. And then if he happened to catch a moment alone with her, she would smell the perfume on his clothes and be convinced he was a good-for-nothing. Well, maybe he didn’t amount to much right now, but he could be a little better than that for her.

  Huang kept on walking and the sounds of the Lotus Palace faded into the night.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE MIDDLE OF the month brought the full moon and another visit to the temple. Yue-ying held up a parasol to shield Mingyu from the midday sun as they entered the courtyard where they were greeted by an unexpected sight. Whereas the other templegoers were strolling about the garden, Wu Kaifeng stood at the steps leading to the hall of worship, watching all who came in or out.

  Mingyu leaned in close. “That constable certainly is everywhere. I’ve seen statues of the demon Mara that looked more inviting.”

  “Shh!” Yue-ying hushed, suppressing a snort of laughter.

  “Are you trying to catch the interest of any particular lady, Constable Wu?” Mingyu teased as they approached.

  “Madame Lui of the Hundred Songs said that Lady Huilan would come here every month.” His gaze swept the courtyard, taking in the scholars and ladies who were present. “This place seems to be popular.”

  “You are still trying to find Huilan’s killer,” Mingyu remarked in a more somber tone. “I do hope you find him soon.”

  “Or her,” Wu amended. “Women have been known to commit crimes the same as men.”

  Mingyu gave him an odd look. “Your dedication is commendable,” she said after some consideration. There was apparently no polite and appropriate response when it came to Constable Wu.

  Mingyu bowed and started to move past him with Yue-ying close behind, but Wu stopped them. “There is something I wanted to ask you, Lady Mingyu. In private.”

  Yue-ying looked to Mingyu with a question in her eyes. Despite the crowd gathered in the courtyard, she didn’t want to leave Mingyu with the constable.

  “I am sure it will only be a moment,” Mingyu said to her.

  She handed her mistress the parasol and watched as the two of them retreated beneath the shade of the pear tree in the corner. Wu stood head and shoulders over Mingyu and Yue-ying could clearly see his expression, which meant she could clearly see that it was blank while he questioned Mingyu. The courtesan’s face was hidden mostly behind the parasol.

  Yue-ying wandered to the pond to visit the venerable tortoise while she waited. Her old friend was outside on the rocks again, looking dusty and wrinkled. That was three visits she’d been able to see him. Usually he hid inside his cavern, and she might only catch the glimpse of his shell from beneath the rock.

  She was pondering whimsically whether this was a good or bad omen, when the oddity of it struck her. The tortoise had been outside right after the earthquake. She had assumed the tremors had jostled him out of hiding.

  “Yue-ying,” Mingyu called out across the courtyard. She was obviously in a mood. “Our head constable wishes to interrogate you now to see if he can catch me lying.”

  She heard Mingyu with only half an ear. Ducking down, Yue-ying tried to peer beneath the rocks. Mingyu and Constable Wu came toward her just as she began to climb over the pond, hoisting up the edge of her skirt so it wouldn’t fall into the water.

  “What are you doing?” Mingyu gasped.

  Yue-ying knelt on her hands and knees before the tortoise. His black eyes flicked at her, but he otherwise let her be as she crouched and reached her hand into the crevice. There was something loose inside, the surface of it smooth and even. Her fingers closed around it and drew the object out into the light.

  It was a silver ingot, molded into a tablet and stamped with a flower. She reached in again and pulled out another then another. She looked up to see Mingyu and Wu Kaifeng staring at her hands, which were overflowing with silver.

  * * *

  “THERE IS NO way to be certain that the sliver belonged to Huilan,” Mingyu protested.

  She cast her shawl haplessly aside as she stepped into her parlor. Yue-ying followed obediently in her wake, retrieving the length of green gauze and then Mingyu’s slippers, which she had discarded, one just inside the door and another by the sitting area.

  “The stash was wrapped inside an embroidered shawl, one that certainly belonged to a lady of the quarter,” Yue-ying argued. “Huilan had said she would sell her jewels and she was planning to leave. Who else would have hidden the money there?”

  “Thieves. A greedy widow hiding an inheritance. A corrupt abbot.” Mingyu’s imagination was endless. “Besides, I can’t imagine any courtesan possessing so much silver, even if she sold her entire wardrobe.”

  Constable Wu had searched farther beneath the rocks. He retrieved an expensive length of silk wrapped around a cache of coins and ingots. Despite Mingyu’s talk of corrupt abbots, no one at the temple claimed the silver and Wu had promptly confiscated it.

  “If Huilan had intended to run away from her foster mother, she would have needed to hide her money outside of the Hundred Songs,” Yue-ying reasoned. “Even Constable Wu believes it belonged to her.”

  “What did that man speak to you about? He was horrible to me. No manners at all.”

  “He asked about that banquet. The one on the pleasure boat both you and Huilan attended at the end of last month.”

  Mingyu touched a finger to a point behind her ear and rubbed at the spot absently. “What did you tell him?”

  Yue-ying knew that gesture very well. Mingyu did it out of habit when something agitated her. “There was nothing to tell. I left early that night, remember?”

  “Oh, yes. That was the night.”

  Mingyu slipped back into the dressing room and Yue-ying followed her. Yue-ying opened the dresser and knelt to place the discarded slippers inside. As she did so her hand brushed over another pair that had been recently cleaned.

  Yue-ying straightened abruptly. Mingyu was at her dressing table, looking into the mirror. She removed a comb from her hair to smooth out a few wayward strands. The disinterest she affected was too calm, her mask too perfect.

  “I found a pair of slippers covered in mud while you were away.” Yue-ying attempted a light tone though her voice sounded shrill to her ears. “I couldn’t get them completely clean.”

  Mingyu waved her hand dismissively. “Throw them away, then.”

  The slippers had been hidden at the back of the wardrobe. And hadn’t Mingyu been distant since the end of last month, right before the earthquake had shaken up the city?

  Yue-ying felt sick to her stomach. There was mud all along the waterway leading from the docks and Mingyu and Huilan had been together the night of the banquet. A man
had been killed around the same time and in the same vicinity. Only a short period later, Huilan was lying dead in her chamber.

  Her heart pounded as she moved to help smooth out Mingyu’s hair. A case full of combs and glittering hair ornaments lay open on the dressing table, many of them gifts from admirers. Yue-ying couldn’t banish the feeling that one hairpin might be missing from among the jewelry.

  Oh, she was being overly dramatic! A little mud on a slipper could mean a hundred things and Mingyu’s moods were always unpredictable. It was obvious Mingyu was having difficulties with her patron, General Deng. She had returned from her trip to the hot springs in a poor mood. The general had recently considered taking Mingyu as his concubine, but the situation had somehow fallen apart. Mingyu kept to herself about it.

  There were enough tales of intrigue and danger in the Pingkang li. Yue-ying didn’t need to go making up more of her own.

  As soon as Mingyu was perfect once more, Yue-ying went downstairs to see if Madame Sun had any particular instructions. According to the headmistress, there were no events to attend and Magistrate Li had said he would call that evening. Yue-ying hoped it wasn’t for yet another interrogation. Both Magistrate Li and Constable Wu had been to every house making inquiries, though the magistrate’s methods were considerably more restrained than his constable’s.

  She was moving toward the kitchen to see if Old Auntie needed any help, when a knock came at the door. The messenger handed her a small parcel wrapped in silk, which she assumed was a gift for one of the courtesans until she saw the two characters inked onto the ribbon tied around it. It was her name.

  Yue-ying snatched up the bundle and stuffed it into her sleeve. A tingle of anticipation ran up her spine as she darted into the main parlor and hid behind the bamboo screen. No one ever sent her gifts. Her pulse raced as she unwrapped the parcel. She knew immediately whom it was from.

  Inside was a long silver hairpin. An ornament dangled from the top. It was set with a pale stone that glowed with an inner light. As she turned it this way and that, tiny fragments of color reflected from within the gem like a broken rainbow.