The Hidden Moon

by Jeannie Lin

  “This is what I would do,” Wu began.

  Gao leaned in close to listen.

  Gao woke up early the next morning in his bunk. The space was smaller than a monk’s cell, which suited him fine. He had few belongings and most his days were spent on his feet out on the streets. His nights as well.

  He drew water from the public well and completed his morning routine before leaving the tenement to walk down the street. The building where Fu Lin lived with his family was just at the corner. They were packed into two rooms on the second floor that were not that much larger than Gao’s bunk.

  Gao was fortunate. Fu Lin was there, which meant he’d gone home the night before like Gao told him to.

  The boy shuffled out from the hovel, looking disheveled as he pulled his cap on. “What is it, Brother Gao?”

  Something to be said for Fu Lin, he was always eager to work. He was just too eager to spend as well.

  “Come on.”

  Gao led them to the walls of the East Market. The gates wouldn’t open until noon, but discarded refuse tended to collect in the shadow of the market. It was a paradise for beggars and scavengers. He and Fu picked through the junk, searching for discarded clothing.

  Fu didn’t ask too many questions. He trudged behind Gao with an armload of junk as Gao haggled for a few lengths of bamboo. Then they loaded their findings into a handcart and started pushing.

  “Where are we going?” asked Fu.

  “We’re following the river,” Gao replied.

  The waterway led them out of Pingkang li and into the neighboring ward where it continued to wind south. After an hour, they stopped beneath the shade of a bridge and set to work.

  “What are we making?” Fu Lin asked as Gao instructed him to tie the bamboo poles together with two cross-pieces.

  “A dummy.”

  It didn’t have to look life-like, just be of approximate size and weight. And it had to float. By noontime, it looked more like a beggar’s raft than anything that resembled a person.

  “This is a lot of work for a dummy. Is this a religious thing?” Fu Lin asked.

  Gao blinked. “Do I seem devout to you?”

  The boy shrugged.

  He was right though. It was a lot of work for a whim. Gao usually preferred the easy route when it came to money.

  “We’re trying to find out who murdered your nobleman,” he told Fu.

  “He’s not mine!”

  Fu looked warily at the dummy, as if it had suddenly become possessed with the spirit of the dead man he had robbed. Maybe Fu Lin was the superstitious one.

  “Well, he was very important. Big bounty for anyone who captures the killer. Better hope some constable doesn’t think it’s you.”

  “No, Brother! I would never kill anyone. He was just floating there in the water.”

  They finished stuffing the dummy with empty coconut husks and secured everything with cord. How did Wu Kaifeng think of this trick?

  It was close to lunch time. Gao bought some rice cake wrapped in banana leaf from a street vendor and tossed one over to Fu. Then he leaned back against the foot of the bridge, enjoying the shade and the movement of the water as it flowed by.

  The boy took a healthy bite. “You didn’t tell the magistrate about me?” he asked around a mouthful of sticky rice.

  Gao shook his head.

  “How much is the bounty anyway?”

  He finished chewing before answering. “A hundred taels of silver.”

  “Waaaa….” Fu’s eyes popped wide open. He let out a little laugh. “No wonder you decided to turn thief-catcher. A hundred taels!”

  The little gutter rat was enchanted by the lure of the money now, completely blind at how important someone had to be for the magistrate to offer such a reward. People like him and Fu could get knifed in the streets while constables walked by without even slowing. In contrast, a death like this couldn’t be ignored.

  “Are you going to eat that last rice cake, Brother Gao?”

  Gao tossed it to him. “Feel free.”

  Fu Lin gave him a toothy grin before unwrapping the parcel. “Do you know what I’d do with that much money? I’d host a huge feast. Invite everybody.”

  He wasn’t a bad fellow. Gao was actually enjoying the time. It was better than bullying some poor shopkeeper for coins.

  While he waited for the boy to finish, Gao took out the strip of red silk from his pocket. Rolling the length into a cord, he started looping it into a decorative knot.

  “What would you do with the reward?” Fu Lin asked.

  The knot formed a leaf-like pattern, interweaving and braiding together. “I’d change my life,” he said absently.

  Fu gave a snort. “But how?”

  Gao knotted one end and formed a loop in the other, hooking them together to form a bracelet before stuffing the silk back into his pocket. He wasn’t doing all this for anything as rational as silver. He just wanted something to talk about so a pretty girl might pay attention to him for a little longer than he deserved.

  Wei-wei was clever and educated and endlessly curious. Maybe that was why he was so taken with her. She spoke to him as if what he said carried weight, as if she wanted to know what he had to say. She could ask him all the questions she wanted. Wei-wei would never have to pay him to provide information. She’d never need to pay him for anything

  “Let’s go before it gets too late,” Gao said.

  Together they dragged the dummy onto the top of the bridge, first looking out for any patrols, before dropping it over the arch. The bamboo figure plunked into the water where it sank a little before bobbing to the surface. Then it started moving downstream along the current. Gao was able to keep up at a fast walk.

  Fu Lin had to rush to keep up with Gao’s longer stride. “What are we doing?”

  Gao hushed him. “Counting.”

  They retraced their same steps, walking at a brisk pace along the canal through the ward. This was how they would get an estimate of the speed of the river. There were variations along the way. If the body became caught on the river bank or some other debris. If it hit a slow spot where the water pooled and swirled before smoothing out.

  “Just a rough estimate,” Wu Kaifeng had reminded him, jotting down example calculations.

  Gao would have never dreamed up such calculations in a hundred years. He barely knew what a hundred taels of silver could buy. The only thing he was sure of was that Wei-wei would still be too far beyond his reach. Even if he had a thousand taels to his name.

  Chapter 7

  Wei-wei yawned twice during her younger brother’s morning lesson. Chang-min was too focused on his studies to notice, but once he finished his recitation, he was met with a long silence. She had started to nod off.

  “I’ll get tea,” she said, shaking herself awake. “Recite the Analects next.”

  It was fifteen chapters. Dutifully, Chang-min started from the first passage, word for word.

  She’d been up late into the night sorting through Huang’s collection of papers. Then her brother had gone to meet with Magistrate Li that morning while she continued with her tutoring duties at home.

  She had seen to her younger brother’s education from the time he was twelve years old. Women weren’t allowed to sit for the exams, but she could bring honor to the family name by helping her brothers.

  Chang-min was seventeen now and growing quickly like a bamboo shoot, his limbs taking on an elongated look. Chang-min’s resemblance to their father was becoming more pronounced as he grew. Wei-wei could see it in the shape of his chin, but it was said he favored his mother in his eyes. Wei-wei wouldn’t know. Chang-min’s mother was her father’s concubine whom she’d never met.

  Her younger brother had been brought into the household when he was two years old and put under Mother’s care to be raised. Wei-wei had been only ten at the time. It wasn’t until she was sixteen that she’d taken over his instruction. Mother’s headaches had been getting worse, and she needed to rest
frequently. Father was away for long stretches of time, and Huang had started his course of study the Academy. That was also the start of his dark road to the gambling dens. It just seemed to work out better for everyone for her to step in.

  Wei-wei knew that Chang-min occasionally wrote to his birth mother who stayed with their father. Wei-wei planned for Chang-min to take the provincial exams in two years. Two years after that, he’d be ready to take the palace exams. Perhaps once his studies were over, he could see his mother more often.

  On the way to the kitchen, she noticed Mother and a guest were seated in the front courtyard. Amah had brought out the baby to them. She lay swaddled in a carrier between Mother and a middle-aged woman that Wei-wei didn’t recognize.

  “The fortune-teller was convinced she would be a boy,” Mother was saying. Did she have to always sound so disappointed when she told this story?

  “No, Bai Furen. Your family carries its talent in its girls.

  Wei-wei slowed her step to listen. At that moment, both women looked up and spotted her.

  “She has such a bright face,” the woman said, smiling broadly.

  “Daughter, come greet Madame Li.”

  Li? Where was she supposed to know a Madame Li from?

  She approached carefully, taking in the woman’s embroidered silk robe. Her hair was pulled up and coiled over her head like a crown.

  She bowed, “Li Furen. I hope you’re in good health.”

  “Yes, yes, very good, my darling.” Her eyes sparkled as she looked Wei-wei over.

  Why was this woman being so friendly? And why was she acting so familiar? Li was such a common name.

  “What are you doing right now, dear? Can you come join your mother and I?” their guest asked.

  “Wei-wei is tutoring her younger brother,” Mother answered on her behalf.

  “We have always heard of how well-educated she is. A credit to her family.”

  Wei-wei should have been overjoyed to receive such praise and attention for once. Instead it made the hairs on the back of her neck rise up.

  “I must return to the study,” she demurred, making the strategic decision to forego the tea and escape to safety. She bowed and made a quick retreat.

  Back at the study, Chang-min was in the middle of his recitation. She wondered if he was really that dedicated. She and Huang used to pause so they could chatter amongst themselves, only to start up once the tutor was back in earshot.

  He did stop when she turned to peer out the door. “What are you doing, Elder Sister?”

  “There is someone in the outer courtyard. I’m trying to see when she leaves.”

  “Why are you acting like you’re hiding?”

  “Analects,” she reminded him. “Keep reciting.”

  Madame Li didn’t stay much longer. As soon as she left, Wei-wei hunted her mother down. Mother had gone to her own chamber. As Wei-wei entered, she sat at her dressing table, removing some of her jewelry. She had put on the adornments for the distinct purpose of the visit.

  “Who was that, Mother?” Wei-wei helped free the jade pin from her mother’s hair. Mother had gone through the trouble to style her hair that morning. Now the hairs on the back of Wei-wei’s neck were really standing.

  “Why that was Madame Li.” Her Mother’s tone was light, almost sing-song. “Li Chen’s mother.”

  “Magistrate Li Chen?”

  Mother nodded, smiling. “She came to send good wishes to our family and see the baby.”

  Wei-wei’s stomach sank. This was uncalled for. It was all too…all too overly polite. “But we’re not even close to their family.”

  She had never heard Mother speak of the Li family. They didn’t live in the neighborhood. The only interaction they’d had with the magistrate was official business.

  “You are twenty-five years of age this year, Wei-wei.”

  No, no, no, no, no.

  “Well past time to start a family.”

  Not this conversation again.

  “And Li Chen is educated, accomplished. From very good family.”

  This was the sort of fight where Mother would only dig her claws in deeper if Wei-wei resisted. So, she said nothing but, “Yes, Mother” until she could extract herself.

  And then she fled.

  Wei-wei had made it out of the front gate and started down the street, when a voice stopped her.

  “Do you want to know what I found out?”

  She spun around and started, blinking. Gao was there. He had one shoulder propped casually against the wall while a half-smile played over his lips.

  “Come with me,” she said.

  His smile disappeared behind a look of astonishment.

  “Quickly.”

  She hurried down the lane. He followed, catching up to her easily in a few long strides. “Lady Bai.”

  “Mister Gao. Are you well?” The hurried pace left her slightly breathless, but that was no reason to be impolite.

  He laughed. “I’m well. Has something frightened you?”

  Yes. A pair of matchmaking mothers. She couldn’t explain exactly why the urge to flee had overtaken her, but it had. She wanted to be anywhere else talking about anything else. Under normal circumstances, she would have been thrilled to see Gao. He was unexpected and exciting. Today, he was a much-needed distraction.

  There was a small temple at the end of the lane dedicated to the Great Buddha. They entered into the garden and stood before the simple altar. There were no statues or relics on display, just a small clay figurine and modest offerings of flowers and fruit.

  The temple was swept daily by an old monk who lived there. Wei-wei dropped a coin into the alms bowl. In return, she could stand there quietly for a while, hidden from view. Gao stood behind her and waited while she tried to calm her thoughts.

  Li Chen. She knew what was happening here. Her younger brother would soon be off to an academy, and she’d be left without purpose. Her hopes of remaining respectfully unwed were fading. Yue-ying’s daughter was too young to need a tutor.

  After a few minutes, Wei-wei hadn’t managed to come up with a solution, but at least she felt less rattled. She left the sanctuary to find Gao waiting.

  “Did you ask Great Buddha for anything?” he asked once they returned to the street. His tone was only mildly mocking.

  “No,” she admitted. How does one pray for something not to happen? For something not to happen was a non-state. It didn’t exist.

  “Then why go to temple?”

  “There are only so many places I can go.” She continued walking down the lane and he fell into step beside her. It was pleasant, as if his presence gave her a reason to be there rather than wandering alone.

  “I go to the temple, then to the market. Then from the market, back to the temple. That’s all there is most days,” she explained. “There is nowhere else where I can be alone. Other than our home. It feels so confining sometimes.”

  “Your home is a palace,” he interjected.

  “You’ve never been inside.”

  “I’ve been all around it. I circled the walls twice today, wondering how to call on you. A palace,” he concluded with a lofty grin.

  She regarded him, torn between returning home to her confining palace or staying out here without a reasonable excuse to justify it. Mother would ask her where she’d been for so long and she would say…she didn’t know what she’d say.

  The only thing she did know was that the farther she walked from home, the less she thought about what was waiting for her back there. If she were alone, she would have had little choice but to return home.

  “There’s a polo match,” she told Gao, her stomach tight with nerves.

  “Polo,” he echoed.

  She nodded.

  “Polo,” he assented.

  She started toward the fields and Gao fell in step alongside her. She tried to look at him out of the corner of her eye as they walked.

  Gao wasn’t what she would consider handsome, but his look was s
triking. His features were distinctive and hard to overlook. Sculpted, was the word that came to mind. Cut from stone and left rough.

  What would her mother think if she saw her walking beside Gao? Wei-wei never had to wonder about such things because she made sure not to get caught. She thought of it now, while the threat of betrothal hung over her. What would her mother think of Gao?

  Mother might like that Gao was tall, and that would be the end of what she found favorable. Every other trait was unacceptable. A vagabond and drifter. No name with a dark reputation.

  Gao must have had similarly judgmental thoughts about her. She was willful, stubborn, naive. Spoiled.

  “Do you think I’m spoiled?” she asked all the sudden.

  “Yes,” he answered without pause.

  He glanced at her, smirking. Gao’s look did entirely change when he smiled. She managed a smile back, her heartbeat skipping.

  The field was on public ground and was frequently used by the surrounding households for matches. The dirt had been sifted through and then tamped down with oil to control the clouds of dust that were kicked up by the horses. That gave the surface a glossy, stone-like appearance.

  As they neared, Wei-wei could see the game was already well underway. She’d forgotten her parasol and the sun was high, beating down upon the riders. She and Gao found a sliver of shade just to the right of the field. They stood side by side beneath the tree to watch.

  “Chose a team,” she said.

  “Red.”

  “Mine is green.”

  The players were marked by a colored band wrapped over their upper arms. They soared down the field, and she could feel the thundering of hooves over the ground. Her pulse answered the rhythm, beating faster.

  “Do you know how to play?” she asked him.

  He snorted. “With my stable of horses?”

  Wei-wei turned her attention back to the match. She kept on forgetting how different their lives were. Their paths wouldn’t have crossed if not for her brother’s scandalous past and his associations in the pleasure quarter.