The Lotus Palace Read online

  “The worst of it is there is a murderer in the Pingkang li and we don’t know who it is. How can any of us feel safe?”

  Yue-ying sighed. For all her worldliness, Mingyu was so sheltered. “The stranger in the canal was also murdered, yet no one seemed to be alarmed then.”

  “I thought that was an accidental drowning.”

  “One does not accidentally drown and then climb back into a boat,” Yue-ying pointed out.

  “Oh,” Mingyu said, dismissing the loss of that life with a single word. She glanced once at herself in the bronze mirror, decided what she saw was satisfactory and stood. Mingyu spent very little time preening or fixating on her appearance. “Well, I hope that Magistrate Li will find whoever did this quickly so Huilan’s spirit can be at rest.”

  Mingyu left the dressing area while Yue-ying stayed behind to straighten the combs and pins and makeup pots. She had heard little about the mysterious body in the boat while she was certain the North Hamlet would be talking about Huilan long and loud. There would be a flood of verses lamenting her early passing, the silencing of her song, her tragic beauty.

  She felt sadness over Huilan as well. How could she not? Huilan had been close to Yue-ying in age and so full of life. The rumors said Huilan had been strangled to death. She had died struggling and afraid, her final breath forced out of her. For that to be the last thing one felt on this Earth—

  Yue-ying wiped away the tear that fell unexpectedly down her cheek. Strange to feel so deeply over someone she barely knew, someone she rarely spoke to. The last time Yue-ying had seen Huilan, they had engaged in a silly, meaningless conversation about the availability of lychees. So much of the banter of the tearooms, the pleasure houses and banquet halls was without any true meaning or purpose.

  But how could she have known to say something meaningful to Huilan that morning? That it would be her last chance to do so?

  Mingyu was calling her from the parlor. Yue-ying straightened to go to her, wondering if she should tell Mingyu how beautiful she was, how naive she could be, how much Mingyu’s distant nature sometimes hurt her and how much Yue-ying cared for her.

  * * *

  THE HUNDRED SONGS was a short walk from the Lotus. The colorful banners in front had been replaced with white drapery, signifying that the house was in mourning. The sound of chanting and the hollow tap of the prayer drum could be heard from the street. She and Mingyu had just reached the front door when a dark figure at the street corner caught her eye. Constable Wu started toward her, looming larger with every step until she was hidden in his shadow.

  “Miss Yue-ying, if I may speak with you.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, but Mingyu had already disappeared into the Hundred Songs to join the other mourners.

  To her relief, Wu Kaifeng directed her to the nearest teahouse rather than the magistrate’s yamen, but it was difficult to relax with his iron gaze fixed on her. His height was exaggerated by his build, which was long and lean. His facial features were elongated as well, with an eagle’s nose and high cheekbones that tapered down to a sharp chin. He wasn’t an attractive man. He wasn’t entirely ugly either, but if she had to choose—she would say his face fit his position. It was an intimidating face, not one that evoked pleasant thoughts.

  The server brought two bowls of the house tea and Wu gave her a chance to take a sip before speaking.

  “I have questions about Lord Bai Huang. I understand you are familiar with him.”

  It wasn’t posed as a question, but she nodded anyway. “Yes, sir.”

  “He is close to your mistress as well?”

  That raised her defenses. “Lord Bai and Lady Mingyu are no closer than the moon to the stars.”

  “But he’s been courting her.”

  “That’s what scholar-gentlemen do as a pastime. They ride horses, they compose poetry and they court beautiful ladies.”

  Wu raised his eyebrows. They were black and as intimidating as the rest of his face.

  She didn’t know why she’d spoken so cynically. It was possible Bai Huang was genuinely taken with Mingyu. She was exquisitely beautiful, with a dancer’s grace and a poet’s wit, and she made a livelihood out of captivating men.

  “Why do you ask about Lord Bai?” she inquired.

  “Our investigation into the death of Lady Huilan is hindered by one unfortunate fact: we suspect an aristocrat from a well-respected and powerful family.”

  All the air rushed out of her. “But Lord Bai doesn’t seem to be the sort,” she gasped.

  “Do you know many killers, Miss Yue-ying?” Wu asked pointedly, and it was a sharp, finely honed point at that.

  She fell silent, but her mind was not at all quiet. Surely an affair between Bai Huang and Huilan couldn’t have escaped notice, but everyone had their secrets in the Pingkang li. His association with the House of a Hundred Songs could be more intimate than anyone realized.

  “Bai Huang is the son of Bai Zheng-jian, a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Defense,” Wu said.

  Yue-ying nodded. This was all commonly known in the quarter.

  “Though the elder Lord Bai is assigned to a military post in Fujian province, the family maintains a household in the capital. I hear it told that Bai Huang only recently returned to the city, not even a year ago.”

  He finished his report and looked to her expectantly.

  “All I know is there was some trouble a few years ago and he was sent away,” she offered. “Something about gambling debts. I was new to the Pingkang li then.”

  “Interesting. Anything else?”

  The constable’s constant gaze unnerved her. She swore he had the eyes of a snake, never blinking.

  She thought back to the previous days. So much had happened that month with the earthquake and then the dragonboat festival the week after.

  “Huilan met with someone on the first day of the new moon,” she recalled. “A young man. He was on the bridge near the temple.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “Did you recognize him?”

  She shook her head. “I was too far away to see.”

  He paused to consider the information, prolonging the silence for so long that she began to fidget. That day had been the first time she had seen Constable Wu as well.

  “I didn’t pay much attention to Lord Bai’s exploits in the past,” she continued, feeling the need to say something. It was unsettling to have Wu staring at her. “He used to have a bad reputation, a reputation for being reckless, but when he returned, his reputation transformed into something more—” She struggled for a word. Wu Kaifeng waited. “Impulsive. Ridiculous.”

  She felt bad speaking poorly of Lord Bai to a stranger. Constable Wu took a long drink of his tea and glanced downward at the remaining leaves, as if scrying for an answer.

  “Miss Yue-ying, I am letting you into my confidence and you must consider this information very carefully. A young man who could not be identified was seen at the Hundred Songs the night of the murder. Lord Bai met with the courtesan earlier that same day. An item that belonged to him was later found in her chamber beside the body.”

  A shiver ran up her spine. “But he was at the Lotus Palace that night.”

  “That brings up another interesting point. Magistrate Li recalls that Lord Bai arrived late and uninvited to the banquet.”

  “He wasn’t as late as it seemed. I saw him earlier. Downstairs.” She blushed, realizing how it would look to the constable. “And when he came up to the banquet, he sat directly next to Magistrate Li and started a conversation. What criminal would do that?”

  “A bold one, for certain,” Wu said thoughtfully. “One who believes he is above suspicion. There was a scratch on his face that night. I saw it myself.”

  “That was my doing. We had a...a disagreement.”

  “That is not quite how Lord Bai told it.”

  His tone told her enough about Bai Huang’s side of the story. She could feel her cheeks heating under the constable’s scrutiny.

&nb
sp; Wu pressed on, “Are you certain he didn’t have that scratch when he arrived?”

  “I’m certain. I struck him hard across the face.”

  But she had hit him in the darkness of the cellar. She hadn’t been able to see his face clearly. Doubt began to creep in like a festering wound.

  “I commend you for that.” He didn’t smile, but his eyes were unusually bright. “An aristocrat of Lord Bai’s stature isn’t easy to accuse. His father’s connections within the imperial bureaucracy are very powerful and Magistrate Li has warned me that we must step carefully,” he said with a touch of ire. “In the meantime, be wary of him, Miss Yue-ying. I know when a man is hiding something.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE DEALER LIFTED the clay tumbler over his head and shook it while he chanted in a singsong: “Here, here, bet high, bet low.”

  The final wagers were placed onto the table as the dice rattled around inside the tumbler. With a flourish, the dealer set the dish down, paused dramatically, then lifted the lid to reveal the numbers. The result was met with a few cheers, more groans, some curses.

  Huang swiped a hand over his forehead and stared at the candle flickering on the table behind the dealer. It was an oven in here tonight and he was having a tough time of it. A runner came by offering a cup filled with what would have been called water if not for the few flecks of tea floating in it. He waved the boy away in irritation.

  “It must be a lucky night for you, Lord Bai.”

  Wu Kaifeng came up alongside him just as the dealer shoved a pile of coins in front of him. Huang stared at the cash warily before pushing it all back onto the table beside the character for “Low”.

  He pasted on a smile before turning to the constable. “So it seems. Let’s see if it continues.”

  Occasionally someone he knew from the Pingkang li would come into the gambling den, but he had no desire to hold up appearances tonight. He glanced once again at the candle. There was only a stub left.

  Sometimes he lost quickly and would simply get up and leave. Those were the rules. But sometimes he won, and those were the hardest nights of all.

  “Do you play, Constable?”

  Though Wu stood at the table, he had yet to take out any money. He looked over the painted characters on the table, each representing a wager, and then over to the three dice inside the clay bowl. The dealer shrank back as Wu’s gaze raked over him.

  “No,” he replied after an uncomfortably long delay.

  It was rare to meet someone with such a disconnected sense of social politeness. Though his words and gestures were not incorrect, they always came a touch too late or off-rhythm, as if he had to think of things others took as natural.

  “It’s quite easy,” Huang said. “You put your coins down on the table and they take them away.”

  “All bets in!”

  The dealer set the bowl down and lifted the tumbler to a general outcry. The total was high this time and Huang’s wager disappeared. Another round started promptly after.

  “I could never see the appeal of gambling,” Wu said. “Too much uncertainty.”

  The problem was Huang liked the unpredictability. He liked the guessing and wagering and not knowing. No, it was incorrect to say he liked any of it. That implied there was some enjoyment or pleasure involved. He supposed there had been, at one time. Now he knew that he didn’t just like the risk, he needed it. It was never about the money.

  Tonight, the battle had been especially hard. With a new Emperor on the throne and Huilan’s recent death, there was too much cluttering his mind. A night of diversion at the tables was very tempting. Unfortunately, Huang knew it was impossible to play only a few rounds to take his mind off things. He always followed a strict, unbending regimen he’d set for himself.

  Wu looked around the dimly lit room. “So this is where you go on nights you don’t spend drinking.”

  Obviously, the constable had come here to investigate him and couldn’t be bothered with subtlety.

  Huang affected a grin. “I’ll drink tonight as well.”

  Wu was not amused. “You play the third night of every week.”

  His smile faltered a little. “A good night for it.”

  “And always from the eleventh hour to the twelfth,” Wu continued. “Always this table. Exactly a thousand copper coins.”

  The dealer cast a glance toward Wu before he began hawking out the next round.

  Huang shrugged, though the room seemed to have gotten hotter. A trickle of sweat ran down his neck. “Gamblers and their superstitions, you know.”

  Wu nodded, but there was very little in the way of camaraderie in it. “It must be working tonight. You look to have nearly three times that in front of you.”

  “More wagers? Bet now!” the dealer crowed.

  The candle had melted down to a pool of wax.

  Huang pushed the entire stack of coins over the square marked “Triple”.

  Wu’s eyes narrowed on him. “I may not be knowledgeable about this game, but I would assume that is a highly unlikely outcome.”

  At least he’d managed to surprise the demon. “If the dice are with me, I’ll be a wealthy man,” Huang replied with a grin.

  “You are already wealthy, Lord Bai.”

  They listened to the rattle of the dice. As the tumbler was set on the table, Huang felt that familiar rush, the boiling of his blood as he waited to see the result. Exquisite anticipation. Nothing else in the world felt as good as this. Not good wine, good food. Not even a beautiful woman. At moments like this, he knew he would never be free of this urge.

  The dealer lifted the top off the bowl and Huang’s heart almost stopped. Two fives and a three. He didn’t want to think what he would have done if that last die had landed another five instead of the three.

  There was nothing left but the wick on the candle. He turned as the dealer raked back all of his winnings of the past hour, leaving Constable Wu at the table to form whatever conclusions he chose.

  * * *

  YUE-YING SPENT THE next few days preparing Mingyu for an upcoming journey. General Deng was Mingyu’s most prestigious patron. He had held a position in the capital before being transferred to Guangdong province where he currently served as military governor. Whenever he returned to Changan, Mingyu pushed all other engagements aside to see to him.

  “The general will be sending an escort for me,” Mingyu had told her. “We will be traveling to the nearby hot springs. There is no need for you to accompany me.”

  Yue-ying ignored the abrupt dismissal and started packing a trunk with all the necessary clothing and personal items Mingyu would need. She made sure to include all the jewels and trinkets the military governor had gifted to Mingyu.

  This wasn’t the first time Mingyu had left her for such an assignation. It was publicly known that she and General Deng were lovers. Yue-ying could understand why Mingyu desired privacy during their time together. Perhaps Mingyu held deeper feelings for the governor than she admitted.

  Once Mingyu was gone, Yue-ying was left with more idle time than she was accustomed to and no one to pass it with. Over the years, she had become friendly with the other courtesans in the pleasure house, but none of them were close. Mingyu was the only courtesan who had a personal attendant, which put Yue-ying in a unique position at the Lotus Palace. It also kept her apart from the others.

  To remain busy, she set about sorting the rest of the clothing and accessories, bringing out the lighter garments from storage in preparation for the hottest part of the summer season. A pile was started for items that needed mending or other repairs. When she was arranging Mingyu’s slippers, she found a pair tossed in the bottom of a trunk. The embroidered pattern had been splattered with mud.

  With a sigh, she took a damp rag to it. Mingyu was so careless sometimes. Such beautiful and luxurious items held little value to her.

  A knock came from the outer chamber, interrupting her task.

  “Miss Yue-ying?” a familiar voice called
out.

  She shot to her feet. Lord Bai stepped into the parlor just as she poked her head out from the dressing room. The slipper was still clutched in her hand.

  “That’s not to throw at me, is it?” he asked, his lips quirking.

  Bai Huang was a suspect in Huilan’s murder, but Constable Wu didn’t have any strong evidence. Wu had also warned her Bai Huang was hiding something, but he wasn’t a violent man...yet when he’d cornered her in the cellar, he’d certainly appeared menacing.

  She had been staring at him for too long while she weighed the arguments. “Lady Mingyu is not here.”

  “I know. I came here to see you.”

  For a moment, she considered telling him to go away and shouting for help if he refused, but Madame would think she had gone mad. Bai Huang was a frequent and generous customer.

  “Were you at the Hundred Songs the night of the festival?” she asked, edging closer to a ceramic vase on an end table.

  “I was here. Don’t you remember?”

  “Before you came to the Lotus.”

  She glared at him, her irritation rising. She supposed it benefited him somehow to adopt the persona of the fool, otherwise why would he do it so often and with so much enthusiasm?

  “I wasn’t at the Hundred Songs. I swear on my grave.”

  “Why did you tell Magistrate Li you were with me?” she demanded

  He looked confused. “Because I was with you?”

  “Not in the way you implied.”

  “I said that I was delightfully delayed by—” he paused to recall the exact words “—a charming young lady.”

  “Delayed?” she asked through her teeth. “Delightfully?”

  The dog. She dropped the slipper and took hold of the vase.

  A light dawned in his eyes. “You think I murdered Huilan?” he asked incredulously. “Do you truly believe I’m capable of doing such a horrible thing? And to someone as gentle and kind as Huilan. She wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “I don’t believe you killed her.” She kept the vase between them. “But I don’t think you’ve been completely truthful.”