by Jeannie Lin
“You don’t like it?” he asked, hurt.
“No, it’s wonderful. Perfect,” she said through her teeth.
“You’re upset.” He was following her through the garden. Still smiling. “I can bring you another gift if you’d like.”
She turned on him. “You didn’t speak to Liu Jinhai at all, did you?”
“Of course I did. I have nothing to fear from him.”
His smile widened. That devastating smile. It confused her so.
“You’ll get your chance encounter, but—looking as made-up as you do—I’m thinking you’re hoping for a little bit more than an introduction.”
She realized he was gradually backing her into the corner of the garden, behind the pruned cypress. Now he was back he was obviously looking for more conquests to add to his collection. Her hand shot out to brace against his chest, where she collided against a solid wall of muscle.
“Scoundrel.”
The scoundrel laughed. “It’s just a kiss, Lian.”
She couldn’t help the way her stomach fluttered, nor how her heart pounded. He ventured a step closer, but she held firm. She knew Baozhen too well. He had no control over his effect on women and had come to accept their adoration as a matter of course. It took no effort for him to make her feel these things. He did it without knowledge and without care, taking no responsibility for her hope, her excitement or her pain.
He was blissfully ignorant while her spirits soared or plummeted at his whim.
She gave him a little shove, though it did little to move him. “Maybe it’s not you I want a kiss from.”
“You asked me for one once.”
She froze.
Any gentleman would have conveniently forgotten her request. She had been young and had foolishly gathered her courage to ask for a kiss. Baozhen had been older and more experienced. He had refused her. Even worse.
“You laughed at me.” The sharp, piercing embarrassment came back to her. She had shrunk inside to nothing more than a wisp of smoke and disappeared into her room for days.
Baozhen looked stricken. “I didn’t laugh at you.” He paused, as if trying to recall. “Or I didn’t mean to, if that’s what happened. You surprised me. It was just that you were—”
He struggled for words, his smooth charm failing him. He seemed earnest in his uncertainty and she let down her guard.
“Perhaps I was waiting for a better time,” he said, but his tone was more gentle than beguiling.
A small crack formed in her resistance. He backed her farther behind the cover of the shrubbery and this time she let him. She let him because it was Baozhen, and it had hurt so much when he’d rejected her. She had been fifteen years old and foolish, and now she was eighteen and not so foolish—but she still very much wanted that kiss.
He didn’t put his arms around her. Instead he rested his hands over her shoulders as he bent to her, holding her carefully, as if she were made of porcelain. She couldn’t breathe. Baozhen was so close and she had imagined this for so long, in so many different ways. She could feel the sigh of his breath against her lips, and then his mouth was on hers.
His lips were softer and warmer than she’d imagined—but in no more than a heartbeat he was gone.
She was left blinking up at him. That was all? Baozhen straightened abruptly, and for a moment they simply stood there. The tingle of the maddeningly brief touch had already faded. She didn’t even have any time to consider returning his kiss.
“I’ll see you at the park.” Baozhen wasn’t smiling or teasing, or really doing anything but staring at her oddly.
“Until then,” she said, her voice dull.
She stood clutching that ridiculous slingshot to her breast as he turned to go. Someone as adept as Baozhen couldn’t even flirt with her properly. She truly was as hopeless as she had always feared.
* * *
Baozhen had just arrived at the park when he saw the yellow-pink flash of Lian’s summer robe through the green. She was at the far end, strolling along beside her cousin. Within moments she caught his eye but quickly looked away, pretending to be absorbed with something Ming-ha was saying.
“I thought we were going to the tea house,” Jinhai said from behind him.
Usually he found Liu Jinhai to be an agreeable companion. They had similar interests and he was good-humored and unpretentious. Today, Baozhen found him unbearable.
“In a while. There’s something we must do first,” Baozhen said, resigned.
The two ladies glided along the pebbled walkway, making an unerring path toward them.
Conveniently, it was Ming-ha who called out. “Why, it’s Baozhen!”
Lian came up beside her, her robe catching the breeze just enough to tease them with a glimpse of the rounded curves beneath the delicate material.
Baozhen stepped out in front of them. “What a surprise. This pleasant morning has become more enjoyable.”
“Ah, now I see...” Jinhai’s murmur came low and amused from behind him.
Baozhen suppressed a scowl and positioned himself squarely at the lead, to greet Lian and her cousin. Ming-ha was the taller of the two. Her features were slender and elongated and he had been thoroughly fascinated with her once for half a summer, in the way of a boy just beyond childhood.
It was Lian who had his complete attention now. She was softer in the face, with eyes that were keen like a cat’s. After such a long time away, he had decided he did find Lian pretty. This morning had confirmed it. Why else would he have been so compelled to kiss her? Now, every time he saw her, he couldn’t look away. His senses demanded to be constantly fed with this new discovery.
“It’s been too long, Miss Lian,” he said with an overflow of meaning.
“Nonsense, Baozhen. We live next to each other. We see each other too often, one might say.”
Lian had drawn a red tint over her lips since they’d parted. The little fox. She also had a fan in her hands, which she wasn’t using at all to her advantage. It was supposed to be an excuse to bring attention to shapely hands and bared wrists, but instead she was waving it in short, impatient movements while trying to glance around him.
“Your friend, here, is another matter,” she said pointedly. “I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”
Her directness was refreshing—except that it was directed at the wrong man. Baozhen could sense Jinhai similarly trying to weave around him to make an introduction. Any man would, the way Lian was dressed and painted like a newly ripened peach, ready to be plucked.
“Liu Jinhai’s father is a textile merchant in the East Market,” Baozhen offered rather magnanimously. “And this is Miss Chen Lian.”
“Miss Lian.” Jinhai executed a rather courtly-looking bow.
Baozhen noted with displeasure how Jinhai immediately adopted the more intimate form of address. He also had nothing good to say about the way Lian’s eyes fluttered downward. She echoed Jinhai’s name between her lips with a sweet murmur that set Baozhen’s pulse into a dangerous fervor.
“Miss Lian’s family lives in the courtyard beside ours. We’re very close,” he added.
“Our families are very close,” Lian corrected, flashing him the eye.
Jinhai had managed to maneuver around him to stand beside her. He granted her a smile that was full of even white teeth. “You must have interesting stories to tell about this fool.”
“I do...but only if one wants to hear about Guo Baozhen. Do you?”
“On second thought, I don’t. Not really.”
They shared a laugh. How charming.
Baozhen was preparing to insert himself back into the conversation when dear Ming-ha chimed in. “Let’s go see the fish pond.”
She took his arm and held on tight before he could slip away.
“Let’s
all go together,” he said, loud enough to interrupt Lian and Jinhai. Ming-ha’s nails dug lightly into his forearm.
Jinhai gallantly took Lian’s side as they circled the pond, remaining a respectful arm’s length away—which was still too close in Baozhen’s opinion.
“Our fathers often do business with each other,” Jinhai was saying. “Mister Chen is a tough businessman, but always fair.”
“My father speaks very highly of yours, as well,” Lian replied. “Funny how our families know each other but we two have never met.”
“I’m grateful that fate brought me to the park this morning, Miss Lian.”
“I was having the same thought.”
Baozhen snorted, causing both of them to turn to look at him. Lian lashed him with a glare. He replied with a smirk.
The two of them turned back to their conversation. Jinhai was being a gentleman, the dog. He was commenting on the beauty of nature and even stole a few verses from the poet Li Bai. Lian was nodding politely, offering a few meek words here and there.
Baozhen couldn’t believe how bland the conversation was. It was nothing like the spirited exchanges he and Lian shared.
One turn around the carp pond later and Lian took her leave of Jinhai with a proper bow. Baozhen needn’t have worried. Jinhai must have thoroughly bored her for Lian to give up so easily. He knew her temperament. She had no tolerance for coy little games.
He was beaming in triumph when she came to him to say farewell. He wouldn’t tease her too much about this, he resolved.
She leaned in to take him into her confidence. “Thank you,” she whispered softly.
The look she gave him was full of joy. Her smile brightened and the warmth of it radiated throughout her. Baozhen’s own smile quickly faded.
Lian looked happy. Happier than he could remember ever seeing her. All for a few lines of stolen poetry from some peacock who barely knew her.
CHAPTER THREE
Lian placed the pebble into the leather sling and took careful aim. She was perched on top of the gardener’s ladder, which raised her high enough over the courtyard wall to see into the alleyway. She also had clear sight of the side entrance to the Guo residence. As soon as Baozhen appeared, she let the pebble fly. It flew past his ear and struck against the gate.
“Hey—”
She sighed. “I must be out of practice.”
Baozhen brushed a hand over the front of his tunic to regain his composure.
He glanced up at her from the alleyway, showing off the strong cut of his jaw and that playful mouth. “Miss Lian, I see that you’re in a bloodthirsty mood today.”
Some of the successful merchants in the ward wore bright embroidered fabrics, as a show of their wealth, but Baozhen and his family favored muted, darker colors. He didn’t need a bright banner to draw attention to himself.
“Have you heard?” she asked.
Baozhen responded with a raised eyebrow—a look that he thought made him endearing. Most of the neighborhood girls agreed.
“Liu Jinhai sent my family a gift of tea and lychees yesterday,” she said smugly.
“Hmm...lychees. You must have really made an impression.”
So at ease with himself. It wasn’t a matter of pride or vanity for him. Everything came naturally to him.
“There’s some creature hovering at your head, there,” he remarked.
She couldn’t help gloating. She touched a hand to the gilded hummingbird ornament. “It’s a hairpin. Jinhai had it delivered to me personally.”
“Let me guess: along with a few lines of poetry that he copied from somewhere?”
She sniffed, refusing to let him dim her glow. Baozhen disappeared momentarily into his house to re-emerge atop his wall. They were now face-to-face across the two compounds.
“So, only two days and Liu Jinhai is already introducing himself to your parents and sending you gifts?”
“Nothing as impressive as a slingshot,” she pointed out wickedly.
“I should have thought more carefully about arming you. I don’t think you’ll miss next time, and this handsome face is the only asset I have.”
“Don’t forget the mouth part of that face,” she retorted.
He laughed at that, and a lazy warmth filled her. It was so wonderful, speaking with Baozhen like this. All his attention was focused on her and it didn’t matter what they said. The only thing that mattered was spending time in his company.
“Now that you’ve shown yourself to be so highly sought after...” he began.
She preened accordingly.
“Are you certain you want to limit yourself to only one admirer? You should have an army of suitors pushing their way through the gates.”
“Not everyone needs to surround themselves with a flock of admirers,” Lian scoffed. “Some of us are only looking for one person to make us happy.”
He frowned, confused.
“Liu Jinhai actually thinks I’m pretty,” she added, a little too shyly.
“I think you’re pretty,” he replied, a little too easily.
“You call me ‘alley cat.’ Like all the scrawny strays prowling the streets.”
“I’ll have to come up with a better name. That one hardly suits you anymore.”
He granted her a look that was far from brotherly and her toes curled with delight. He didn’t even have to make an effort to coax every part of her into drawing toward him with longing.
“Are you going to the banquet tonight at the Ko mansion?” he asked.
Ko was the registrar, whose offices recorded and approved all the goods that flowed through the East Market. He was celebrating his son’s civil appointment and had invited all the influential merchants and businessmen of the ward.
“Father and Mother will be attending,” she said.
“And you?”
She shrugged airily. “I have a feeling I won’t be well enough to go out this evening.”
“Oh?” His eyebrow was raised again, but this time it wasn’t in a charming fashion.
Baozhen took all the attention bestowed upon him for granted. He was used to having women sighing at his every word and he had become indifferent. She would be just another lovesick maiden if she fell prey to him.
“My family will be out all night drinking wine and playing the dice. I’m already feeling a bit tired,” she declared, conspicuously adjusting the hummingbird pin. “It’s best I stay home alone and rest.”
“Lian...” he began in warning tones.
She took that opportunity to disappear down the ladder. Her heart skipped with excitement as her feet settled onto the ground. Baozhen’s look of concern had been the last thing she saw before descending. And it had been very far from indifferent.
* * *
It was evening and the neighborhood had cleared. Everyone had gone to attend the registrar’s gathering. Baozhen remained behind—only to find that Lian had already slipped away from home. He’d expected as much from the dreamy look in her eyes that morning. She was a smitten young girl, floating in a world of clouds. With cursed hummingbirds flitting about her.
Liu Jinhai could be a gentleman when he tried. He was capable of being smooth and charming and well-spoken. But he was a wolf at heart. Cads like Liu Jinhai and himself ran in the same pack. It was all in good fun. Flirtation, secret meetings, stolen kisses in the dark—until someone got careless. Until some pretty, passionate flower like Lian, who believed in eternal love, came along and made them lose their heads. The wolves were prey as much as predator in this game.
Baozhen would have been wasting his breath to try to dissuade her. No one since the first dynasty had ever been talked out of a romantic liaison. Certainly not any love-stricken young girl.
It wasn’t hard to figure out the location for th
eir secret meeting. There were only a few places one could sneak away to in the ward. Baozhen returned to the public park. Sure enough, there was an orb lantern bobbing in the trees just beyond the carp pond.
“Were you expecting me?” he asked as he entered the circle of trees.
Lian jumped from her spot on the stone bench. To his relief, she was still alone.
“No,” she said. “I wasn’t.”
He made himself a place beside her. “One wolf is as good as another.”
“You’re more of an old goat than a wolf,” she complained.
Heaven help him, he liked her. He had always enjoyed her company, but now he was forced to admit it. She’d always laughed at him, at what everyone thought him to be. She’d teased him and challenged him as much as he’d tormented her. What they’d shared had become so much more than childish games, but he had never known it until now.
This was a more inconvenient discovery than his sudden realization that Lian was pretty. When Jinhai showed up, Baozhen would simply have to kill him. And with his bare hands, too, though Baozhen had never been violent by nature.
“So, Jinhai slipped you a note telling you to come here?”
She didn’t answer. Instead she folded her hands in her lap and stared into the night.
“And when you saw it your heart began beating faster than it ever had. You read that letter again and again, keeping the precious paper hidden from everyone. Every time you thought of it you could hardly breathe, and tonight you couldn’t come here fast enough. It’s exciting to be desired like that.”
He faced her and willed her to look at him. She finally did.
“You’re probably a little frightened, as well.”
“I never realized the likes of you put so much thought into what happens to their many admirers.”
“I don’t. I never did—” Before.
The word was left unspoken and it was his turn to stare into the night. The rising moon cast silver ripples across the pond and he was stricken by a sense of loneliness. Every new face, every kiss was a novelty, a new adventure, but they all faded away when the slightest wind blew. He’d known too many empty embraces.
