by J C Kang
Little Wen, a precocious sixteen-year-old from the Peony Garden, disarmed nineteen-year-old Meisha’s knife. She disengaged and bowed. “Elder Sister Jie.”
All training came to a stop. Twenty-six sets of fists went to palms, and heads bobbed. Though all were technically sisters in the clan, Jie’s position as officially adopted daughter of Clan Master Yan made her de facto leader.
She returned their salute. “Sisters, we have an emergency. Two assassins, one armed with a Repeater, targeted me specifically on my way here.”
Whispers erupted.
“Where’s Elder Sister Lilian?” Yuna, Little Wen’s fiery apprentice asked.
“She is bringing help from the safehouse.” Jie searched their eyes. Certainly none of them could betray the clan. “In the meantime, have you noticed anything out of the ordinary? Has anyone suspicious been following you?”
Heads shook.
Jie sucked on her lower lip and let it go with a pop. All of these girls, even the youngest, knew how to spot and lose tails. They’d all been trained to notice such things. “We will err on the side of caution, and assume that whoever attacked me knows who all of us are. We are all targets.”
More murmuring, even though hopefully that wasn’t the case. Maybe Masked Crossbowman knew only about her, the half-elf. Still, for everyone’s safety… “We will change our meetings to schedule pattern three. The attacker won’t know our routines; at least not for a few days. Otherwise, maintain your regular activities.”
“What about now?” Wen asked.
“Lilian is reporting back to the safehouse, and will hopefully bring more assets.” Jie drew a finger in a circle. “We will assume our enemy knows we are gathering here, so we will disperse now. Those who can, reconvene at the silk market, infiltration mode.”
Fists went into palms, and heads bowed. They changed back into their simple dresses. In staggered groups of two or three, they left the theater from the front and back doors.
Jie waited until last, relaying commands to the lookouts, and relieving the one in front while she changed and disappeared into the alleys. Satisfied everyone was clear of the theater, Jie set off toward the silk market.
Just outside of the giant lanterns hanging from the front gates to Floating World, the silk market was erroneously considered by the capital’s denizens to be part of the entertainment district. While the latter quieted from mid-morning to mid-afternoon, the silk market bustled with activity from dawn until well past dark. It was one of the few places where other women would ever rub shoulders with a Blossom.
Rows upon rows of covered stalls lined the open square. They formed a maze of virtual streets, covered by a giant red tent. Hundreds of people milled about, chatting with friends or browsing. Others haggled with merchants over bolts of silk, cotton, and imported linen and satin, which came in all manner of designs and colors. Vendors hawked brocade shoes and the latest fashions in dresses, gowns, and robes.
Though women made up the vast majority of customers, the Floating World girls stood out with their beauty and graceful carriage, even in plain day dresses. Most servants paid them no mind, but groups of well-to-do housewives broke off in gossip, huddling together as they eyed Blossoms and Florets. The handful of noblewomen present might cast scathing glances at their husbands’ possible paramours, and the reactions of their entourage of handmaidens and guards ranged from active avoidance to lecherous ogling.
While her clan sisters blended in with the crowds, Jie’s tapered ears drew many eyes—just as planned, to keep the others safe. Hidden among the stares, the weight of a threatening gaze prickled the back of Jie’s neck. Whether it was a run-of-the-mill serial killer, rapist, kidnapper, or an associate of the crossbowman, it was impossible to tell. If only she could find the source.
Maintain cover, she signaled while pretending to examine a godawful puce fabric. She continued on her way. Mirrors and other reflective surfaces failed to reveal her tail, and none of the other sisters indicated that they had made him, either.
There. The scent of that sesame-ginger marinade. Just a trace, but it was enough to suggest that Masked Crossbowman, or someone else who had eaten at the same place, was either nearby or had passed through within the hour.
She lifted a coin pouch off a noble’s manservant on her way to one of her informants. While the slipper merchant and charm seller didn’t have any worthwhile news, the jade bangle vendor did.
He flashed her a broad smile from across his table, where an array of sixty bracelets lay organized on a red silk tablecloth. He gestured to the cheapest one. “Miss Jie, I have some imperial green today.”
“I was hoping you would.” Jie set the stolen pouch on the table.
The vendor hefted it and nodded. “This particular piece hails from the Jinjing County. They’ve been trying to carve them into blossoms.”
Jie picked up the bracelet as she pondered his message. Jinjing didn’t have jade mines, and any reference to blossoms usually had to do with the Floating World. “The mine’s owner? Or someone else?”
“The owner.”
So, the Lord of Jinjing County was up to something in the Floating World. She gave a nod. “Thank you for this beautiful piece.”
“Let me wrap it up for you.” He plucked it from her hand, then wrapped it in a white cotton kerchief which was worth far more than the cheap stone, because of the handwritten poem on it. The writing seemed to extol spring blossoms, but was really a coded message. Back at the Chrysanthemum Pavilion she’d use the cipher to decode the poem in full, but at first glance it looked like the Lord of Jinjing was spending a lot of money in the Floating World.
With a bow of her head, she continued to check with her other sources. From the money she’d saved earlier that morning, she slipped a copper to a little pickpocket who always seemed to know the gossip. Another copper went to a beggar who had a good eye for which noble house bought what.
Little Wen and her apprentice Yuna, now both wearing pastel-pink day dresses and smelling of lavender, glided by. Wen’s enviable grace made it easier to remember she was a full-fledged Blossom, despite her nickname. With a combination of hand signals and a few finger-taps on Jie’s arm, she conveyed her message. Lilian’s back. No help coming.
No help coming? Jie frowned. The message was percolating among the clan sisters, evident from the split-second looks of dismay. Not only that, the feeling of being watched disappeared.
A hush pregnant with expectation fell over the throng. People parted, opening a path.
Dan Lusha, the Corsage of the rival Peony Garden, glided through, chin held high, the epitome of elegance. Though she usually had her shiny black hair up in a style that set trends for the rest of the Floating World, today it cascaded down to her waist. She looked stunning in a plain pink day dress, even at an hour when most Blossoms were recovering from the previous night.
On one side, her Seedling wore a matching dress. No older than eight, the poor girl shivered like a cold puppy; certainly not from the temperature on this warm day. More likely it was because she had to uphold the standard of apprenticing to one of the most famous Blossoms in the Floating World—the one whose virgin price had held the previous record.
Though the guard at her other side wore the pastel-pink livery of the house, his gait exhibited competence. More importantly, he smelled of sesame-ginger marinade.
Chapter 4
While all eyes in the silk market lingered on the most celebrated Blossom, Jie evaluated her guard.
His stride, combined with eyes that roved for possible threats, spoke of competence. His height and build did not rule him out as Masked Crossbowman; although, unless he’d run off for a post-attack snack after trying to kill her, the sesame-ginger aroma was too heavy for him to be the same person.
Even so, they might be associates. Perhaps Masked Crossbowman worked for the Peony Garden, and their Gardener had specifically targeted her to maintain Lusha’s record virgin price. It brought fame and honor to the House, after
all.
If only Jie were so lucky. It would be better that way, since it would mean the clan sisters weren’t in danger. It would also mean that just getting the whole deflowering thing over with would end the threat.
And, of course, there was also the possibility that the guard had just happened to eat at the same place as Masked Crossbowman, which would be helpful in tracking him down.
She slid between people and sidled up to Little Wen and Yuna. As a Blossom and Seedling of the Peony Garden, if anyone knew what management was thinking, it would be them. And clan fealty surpassed house loyalties. She tapped on her wrist. What does your house say about my virgin price?
Lusha hates you, and is constantly pouting about her record virgin price falling.
Would your Gardener act on it? While the Houses played a game of shifting alliances, betrayals, and backstabbing, Blossoms were tacitly off-limits to physical harm. Emotional harm was fair game, of course. Sending assassins was unheard of.
Ripples appeared on Wen’s brow as she froze for a moment. Maybe.
What’s she doing here?
Wen’s lips quirked. She’s looking for a new dress for the weekend. A Tai-Ming Lord commissioned her for his son’s first time.
It was a great honor to be chosen by a First-Rank Lord’s heir. How much?
An exorbitant amount.
Lusha was almost upon them now. Her eyes shifted to Jie for a split second before settling on Little Wen.
“Elder Sister.” Wen bowed.
“Little Wen. Don’t stand too close to mongrels, or you will get fleas.” Lusha cast a scathing glance at Jie.
Mongrel. Clever. As if Jie hadn’t heard that before.
Chatter erupted among the onlookers. Blossoms were known for duels of poetry or music, but Lusha’s sharp tongue was the stuff of legends. They were about to witness an epic tongue-lashing.
Jie snorted. “You have nothing to worry about, Miss Lusha. My fleas have good taste.”
A collective ooooo droned.
Sharp glare raking the crowd, silencing it, Lusha let out one of her famous little harrumphs. “Uncultured half-breed. Come to the Peony Garden tonight for a poetry duel, if you dare. There will be many guests on hand to celebrate Young Lord Peng Kai-Zhi’s First Pollinating. His father has contracted me for ten thousand yuan.”
Everyone in the Floating World knew about the celebration; as Corsage of the Chrysanthemum Pavilion, Lilian had received an invitation. Still, it was unusual to publicly announce a contract price, since rumors bred more interest than hard numbers. Then again, this was an ungodly amount, enough to buy a large villa in the capital. Predictably, the crowds murmured in excitement.
“And to think,” Jie said, making a show of counting on her fingers, “my virginity is already worth over ten times his son’s.”
And more than Lusha’s. The unspoken message was not lost on her, for she flushed, the ugly shade of red visible through her make-up.
Jie kept her expression innocent, as if the comment was unintentional. “As for your challenge… I’ll be there.”
With another huff, Lusha turned on her heel to leave. She looked over her shoulder. “See you tonight. After I’m done with you, they’ll be rescinding their bids on your pock-ridden hole.”
Jie feigned shock, even as her stomach churned. A poetry duel! The only rhymes Jie knew were those that clan initiates learned to memorize toxins.
Both Wen and Yuna turned and gaped.
Wen whispered, “What were you thinking? Lusha is a master poet. She’ll savor making you look bad, especially if it ensures her record stands.”
“It’s my way in to the house to scout around, and also get a feel for your Gardener’s intentions.”
Pouting in the cutest way, Wen squeezed her hand. “I could’ve done that, without risking your virgin price.”
Jie sucked on her lower lip. Wealthy men’s obsession with virginity—their own and their partners’—just made them willing dupes over something whose value was based in perception. Her virgin price would fund clan operations for a year. And, if she had to admit it to herself, she was proud of it: utterly lacking in a Floating World Blossom’s renowned grace, she still drew higher bids than the most celebrated Night Blossom of them all.
Right now, though, Wen’s wounded expression took precedence. Jie smiled at her. “I need you to do something more important: her guard. Find out where he ate.”
“Mister Meng?” Wen gave a perplexed rise of her eyebrow.
“His breath. It smelled the same as Masked Crossbowman. A sesame-ginger marinade. Lusha’s breath didn’t smell the same, so it isn’t something she ate at your house.”
Yuna’s mouth formed a pretty circle. “Your nose never ceases to amaze me.”
From what Jie could tell, full humans had poor vision and senses of smell. It was a wonder they’d lasted so long. “Can you find out?”
Wen gave an enthusiastic nod. “I’ll ask him for a recommendation when he gets back to the house.”
No sooner did Wen and Yuna head off then Meisha approached. The older Blossom tapped on Jie’s wrist as she passed. No Cleaner. No reinforcements.
Jie’s gut clenched. No Cleaner meant there was a dead body lying in an alley, waiting to be found. No reinforcements from the clan meant they were on their own. No doubt, this second message would be passed through taps and finger-brushes among all the sisters by now. She scanned the crowds, backtracking from Meisha to the other clan members.
Some of the younger ones’ expressions were contorted in dismay, but by and large, they’d taken the bad news in stride. Hopefully, the assassin had been sent by the Peony Garden to specifically target Jie, and the others weren’t at risk.
At the end of the message relay, she found Lilian, who gave her an apologetic nod.
Jie bowed as a junior should to a senior Blossom. “I couldn’t find the color you wanted.”
“Then we must hasten back for lessons.” Lilian beckoned.
As she followed Lilian back toward the Floating World, Jie passed one last message to one of the sisters. Resume regular activities. Maintain vigilance. Watch for light atop the Lotus Shrine.
Hopefully, that would reassure them, even if Jie didn’t feel much better.
Once they passed the gates and into the quiet of the late-morning Floating World, Jie whispered, “Why no clan support?”
Lilian sighed. “Only one brother was at the safe house. The Emperor stayed an extra day at the summer villa, so all extra hands are there to protect him. The only ones left in the city are in critical areas.”
Jie’s chest tightened. As if the Floating World wasn’t the most important nexus of information, and the sisters gathering it weren’t critical. “We need to dispose of the body before anyone finds it.”
“We do?” Lilian’s face turned an interesting shade of green. They’d all dissected cadavers as children, and if memory served, she’d nearly vomited every class. Apparently, little had changed. It might be that much harder to get her reassigned.
“Come on. It will cause quite the stir, and the local authorities won’t know what to make of his fatal wound.” Jie grinned. “It was a great throw.”
“You already said so.” Lilian flashed her crooked smile, which had enchanted many a wealthy patron. “But I don’t mind you repeating it.”
Stomach erupting in butterflies, Jie leaned in and rested her head on Lilian’s shoulder. “It was a great shot.”
Lilian squeezed her hand. To any prying eyes, it would look like the sisterly affection between Night Blossoms.
There was no activity around the opening to the alley; a good sign. Jie turned the corner.
And skidded to a stop.
The body was gone, along with all trace of the attack.
She turned to Lilian. “You said there was no Cleaner?”
Scanning the area, Lilian gave a tentative nod. “If not us, then who?”
“Masked Crossbowman or his friends.” Jie knelt over the spot wher
e the man had fallen and set her hand on the pavestones. They were a fraction warmer than those in the surrounding area, so it couldn’t have been long. “He was quite dead, so he couldn’t have walked off by himself. That means—”
“They didn’t want his body found, either.”
On second glance, though the pavestones looked clean, thin scuff marks from shoes and displaced grit suggested that whoever it was had dragged the body deeper into the alley. Jie followed the faint trail to where it stopped, about halfway down.
“What are you doing?” Lilian asked.
“A trail.”
Lilian knelt and stared at the ground. “Where?”
Pointing, Jie sniffed the air. The coppery tang of blood still hung here, in minute traces. “They covered the wound; otherwise there’d be a blood trail, or a sign that they’d cleaned up afterwards.”
Lilian looked up the shrine walls on either side, each rising nearly fifteen feet. “They somehow lifted him up and over?”
That would explain why the trail stopped there, with no body. Still, it would take a lot of effort to bring him up that high. Jie pop-vaulted to the top and looked over the side of each wall. Still no sign of the body. She came down and sniffed again. The scent of blood had thinned even more.
“Any clues?” Lilian asked.
Shaking her head, Jie sniffed around, but the scent didn’t grow any stronger. “For now, our only lead is the guard at the Peony Garden.”
Lilian’s head rose and fell in slow bobs. “What do we do now?”
“I need your help with improvised poetry.”
“Whatever for?” Lilian’s brow furrowed.
Jie grinned. “I am going with you to the Peony Garden’s soirée tonight. I accepted a poetry duel with Lusha.”
“You did what?” Lilian blanched. “She’s the most celebrated poet in the Floating World in a generation.”
