The Jade Temptress

by Jeannie Lin

Kaifeng frowned at her.

  “It’s not a bad face at all, really, in its parts,” she went on. “People find your features unusual because of your lack of emotion.”

  He displayed such statuelike control now, though there was a gleam in his eye. Perhaps she only saw those little nuances now that she was accustomed to looking at him and was no longer afraid to meet his gaze.

  “It would be easier if you were prone to scowling or snarling, but you never do that, either.” She eased closer to touch her fingertip to his collarbone. From there, she traced the shape of it toward his throat then down his breastbone. From the rise and fall of his chest, she knew he wasn’t unaffected, but such knowledge wasn’t easy to come by. Wu Kaifeng gave away nothing without a price. “You don’t show anger, or happiness, or fear. No one knows how to react to that.”

  “I’ve always suspected that I did not feel things the same way others did,” he admitted. “Emotion never seemed to overwhelm me as it did others. I didn’t feel as much or as strongly. It’s always been that way.”

  She was insistent. “But you do feel things.”

  “I do when I’m with you,” he said begrudgingly.

  Kaifeng certainly felt passion and desire. She had seen both in his eyes last night. She had also seen loneliness, something she understood too well.

  A lump formed in her throat. For the next few moments, Kaifeng did nothing but hold her while Mingyu rested her head against his chest to listen to his heartbeat. She tried hard not to rush the moment, to become impatient, but the sun was rising too quickly. Their time was nearly done.

  Mingyu was the first to break away from the embrace, but not to escape. Not yet. She eased Kaifeng back onto the bed, but he caught her in his arms and rolled her beneath him.

  They should make this stolen time worthwhile, should they not? It would be the last time. She squeezed her eyes shut to force back any tears. When she opened them, Kaifeng was there, filling her vision. He might not be handsome, but she didn’t trust beauty. Beauty made it easier to deceive the world. Wu was never anything but what he was.

  Maybe that was all she needed to fall for him, for just a little while. She strained upward and they came together, his mouth on hers, her arms around him.

  He found her sash and looped the length of silk around her wrists to secure her arms overhead, but the gesture was only symbolic. Almost poetic, for someone untrained in poetry. He couldn’t tie her there, he couldn’t keep her.

  Unable to reach for him, all Mingyu could do was receive and accept. As Kaifeng lowered himself between her knees, as she felt his long fingers parting her, she stopped thinking of what would come in the next days, or even in the next hours.

  Sometimes the answers were simple.

  Mingyu held her breath and it seemed like forever before the tip of his tongue touched her, swirling gently and sending her to heaven.

  * * *

  THE SUN ROSE high to bear down on her as Mingyu hurried through the streets. Her hair threatened to escape from its pins; she had only managed to coil it loosely before leaving. There was no way to fix it on her own and Kaifeng was no help. He was in a mood, running her hair through his fingers and pressing his lips to it. She’d had to swat his hands away in order to make herself presentable.

  “If I only had a hundred taels of gold,” he said as he tucked a strand behind her ear.

  “Now, Constable, you know that wouldn’t be enough,” Mingyu teased, but the corners of her eyes stung.

  Kaifeng had let her go then. He’d had no choice and neither did she, but Mingyu had that memory to take with her. At least she had the memories.

  She kept their final moments close to her heart as the lotus petal pavilion came into view. The Dragon Hour was done and the day was well into the Snake Hour. Mingyu straightened her shoulders and held her head high. Her posture, her expression, every gesture down to how she placed her hands needed to command attention and respect. Madame Sun had taught her that.

  The headmistress was waiting for her in the entrance hall. “Where were you?”

  “I was with my sister,” Mingyu replied without pause.

  Madame’s eyes flashed fire and her hand shot out. Mingyu caught the glitter of gold before a palm cracked across her face. The world went white as pain radiated through her skull.

  “Always lying! Who were you with?”

  Pressing a hand to her cheek, she blinked back tears. She had refused to cry when leaving Kaifeng. She certainly wouldn’t weep now.

  Madame had only hit her once before. It had happened soon after Mingyu had come to the Lotus Palace. Yue-ying had been sold off to a brothel and Mingyu had tried to run away to find her. She was discovered by the city guards who had immediately returned her to the pleasure house. Old Auntie, less old then, had held her by the arms while Madame Sun had slapped her hard enough to make her ears ring.

  That blow had quieted her momentarily, but it did not silence her forever. Mingyu had never forgotten.

  She straightened to her full height now, raising herself over Madame. Her face burned hot, both from the blow and from anger, but it would do no good to lash out at her foster mother. Slowly Mingyu lowered her hand and regarded Madame with a chilling stare.

  Anger, as well as any other emotion, put a person under someone else’s control. She and Wu Kaifeng were alike in that manner. Neither of them would give anyone that power over them.

  “It hardly matters who I was with, Mother,” she said coolly. “I came back, didn’t I?”

  Her words held the barest of threats, but the threat was there. Mingyu did not merely command respect, she demanded it. This was the Pingkang li and Madame Sun needed her. They were both slaves in this detached world together.

  “Inspector Xi came looking for you last night,” Madame said steadily. “I had to make up a story about how you weren’t feeling well, but he knew I was lying. Do you know how difficult an imperial censor can make things for us?”

  “We can make things difficult for him, as well. An esteemed official infatuated with a courtesan like a lovesick scholar.”

  Mingyu was tired, tired of this cat-and-mouse game and tired of having to play everyone.

  “If Xi Lun is interested, he’ll come back to us,” she told Madame. “I’ll apologize sweetly to him and all will be forgiven.”

  With that, she turned on her heel to head toward the stairs. She only made it three steps up before Madame aimed a verbal dart at her back.

  “You were with that constable, weren’t you? What is his name...Wu?”

  Mingyu stopped and turned around. “Wu Kaifeng is his name,” she offered without shame.

  “Inspector Xi will consider it an insult to be bypassed in favor of a lowly constable.” Now Madame Sun was acting as a voice of reason, no railing, no condemnation. She was full of tricks.

  “Maybe the inspector will lose interest then and decide I’m not worth the trouble.”

  “Mingyu, you’re being difficult on purpose. What have I taught you?”

  To always be pleasant. To never make a man lose face. To hide her feelings.

  Mingyu was taught that what she wanted didn’t matter, so it was better not to want things. Or rather, it was better to want the same things her foster mother wanted.

  “I’m going to my chamber to prepare myself,” Mingyu said wearily. “One never knows what self-important guests will arrive at any moment.”

  Madame remained at the foot of the stairs. When Mingyu finally reached her quarters, she closed the door and let out a sigh. The exchange had been an easy one. After lashing out, Madame Sun had retreated and left her alone.

  Perhaps Madame could be reasoned with, after all. As she selected a fresh robe from the wardrobe, Mingyu tried to think of how to convince Madame not to sell her off. She was a great asset to the Lotus, and Inspector
Xi, despite his lofty position, was young and inexperienced. Not nearly as crafty as Madame Sun.

  As Mingyu started to disrobe, she was still alone in her chamber. Usually Little Hong or Jing-min would attend to her. She started toward the door to call for one of them, but the rattle of chains stopped her. A metal lock snapped shut on the other side.

  She should have known better than to be fooled into thinking she had won. Madame Sun had taught Mingyu everything she knew. Her foster mother was just as headstrong, crafty and impossible to predict as she was.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ALONE IN THE records room, Kaifeng laid out Mingyu’s portrait and the orchid scroll side by side. The activities of the magistrate’s offices continued around him, but he narrowed his focus onto these two paintings, separating out all other assumptions and prejudices.

  The brushwork was similar, he had to admit, in the flow of the lines and the use of color. The painting of Mingyu showed her in a pink robe and a gold sash, eerily similar in color to the flower. She sat alone in a grassy meadow. The orchid alone in a field still yields its fragrance, unnoticed.

  The second scroll also depicted a sense of isolation, in this case with a single orchid surrounded by a fan of green leaves rather than a woman. The inscription was added in the same manner to the upper righthand corner.

  But on his grave, wasn’t every painting in the capital about orchids and peonies? He lacked any sense of refinement and was no expert in art. The one mark that would have identified the artist, the personal chop stamped in red ink, had been blotted out with a splatter of blood on the portrait scroll.

  The stain formed a ghastly frame around Mingyu’s face. In the center of it, her expression was youthful, vibrant. Uncaring that there was no one present to witness her beauty.

  This painting would have been completed before Mingyu achieved her current fame. She would have been one of so many nameless girls in the Pingkang li, each one fighting for notice among the scholar-elite. Xi Lun had been a no name, as well, one of the thousands of candidates vying for imperial recognition.

  Xi would have painted this portrait when he was a poor scholar, hungry for fame. His dreams of success became wrapped up in a lovely young courtesan. Her very name seemed auspicious: Mingyu. Bright Jade. It wasn’t hard to imagine the inspector wanting her enough to kill for her. Without her, Xi Lun’s triumph was incomplete.

  But this was all conjecture, nothing more than smoke. Though the explanation wasn’t logical, it was still possible. Murder was often an act of passion. There was no sense to it.

  The problem was that Kaifeng could no longer look at this painting and not see her. Mingyu of the pleasure quarter, but also the Mingyu he knew when she was with him. And he couldn’t think of her without his mind wandering back deep into the night when she lay warm and sated in his arms. Or his own reckless plunge into pleasure.

  “Constable Wu.”

  Kaifeng glanced up to see one of the magistrate’s clerks by the door.

  “Magistrate Li wanted me to inform you that he is expecting Inspector Xi Lun within the next double hour.”

  “Is that all?”

  The clerk nodded and disappeared back to his duties.

  A warning. Wasting no time, Kaifeng packed up the two scrolls as well as his notes and sketches on the case, everything that was not part of the official record.

  If Mingyu’s instinct was correct, the censor had been paying attention to his activities long before Deng’s murder. Xi Lun’s motive was highly suspect as was his intense curiosity over the case. Kaifeng packed the rest of the items into a canvas sack and left the yamen quietly through the west gate with barely a second glance from the guards.

  Kaifeng navigated through the streets toward the East Market. Did he have enough evidence to mention his suspicions to Li Yen? There were dire consequences for bringing false accusation against a high-ranking bureaucrat. Inspector Xi was a member of the Emperor’s Censorate and defaming such a high-ranking official could be seen as treason, punishable by death.

  But the pattern fit. Someone had wanted Kaifeng removed from office before General Deng’s body was discovered. Xi Lun had immediately insinuated himself into the investigation. Then there was the painting and Xi’s pursuit of Mingyu. Yet none of it amounted to evidence.

  Kaifeng wanted Xi Lun to be guilty. Therein lay the weak point of his stance. The man had done nothing but antagonize him. The inspector was also determined to possess Mingyu. Kaifeng couldn’t have her for himself, but if he could protect her from Xi Lun’s claim, then at least she would be free.

  Until the next powerful admirer wanted to have her. He rubbed a hand over his temples. There was no end to this.

  Mingyu had gotten into his blood along with everything else that clouded a man’s judgment. His fists were clenched with jealousy, his stomach churned in anger. And deep in his chest, where his heart lay pounding, he desired a woman he couldn’t have.

  Kaifeng needed to clear his mind and remain impassive. He needed to solve this riddle. He needed to protect Mingyu in the only way he knew.

  * * *

  MINGYU PRESSED HER ear to the door, listening to the sounds on the other side of the thin panel of wood.

  “Little Hong!” she called out.

  The footsteps came closer, hesitantly.

  “Let me out, Little Sister.”

  “Madame Sun has forbidden it,” came the young girl’s voice. “She told us anyone who dared to help you would be beaten.”

  “Mother is only angry for the moment because we had an argument,” Mingyu insisted, her tone as sweet as syrup. “I’ll apologize to her and all will be forgiven. Now you listen to your Elder Sister, hmm? Open this door.”

  “She’ll throw me out into the streets if I disobey,” the girl protested. “Just stay in your chamber for a few more days. Madame’s temper will cool and she’ll listen to you. She always does.”

  Mingyu blew out a sharp breath, agitated. It had been two days already. She hadn’t been allowed to entertain any guests or even see any of the other girls other than when they brought her tea and food. They were all frightened of the headmistress now that they had seen how harsh she could be, even to her favorite.

  She sank down to the floor, resting her temple against the door frame. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. Hasn’t your Elder Sister always taken care of you? It makes me sad to see how little I mean to you.”

  It was wicked of her to manipulate Little Hong’s emotions so ruthlessly, but Mingyu was desperate. There was silence on the other side of the door. She was starting to gather hope until she heard the frantic whisper.

  “She’s coming!”

  The footsteps scuffled away, soft and quick as a kitten’s. Mingyu shot to her feet and backed away as the chain outside rattled.

  The door opened and Madame Sun stepped into the parlor. Old Auntie and Ziyi followed on her heels. Her younger courtesan-sister stood with her hands folded demurely, but a spark lit in her eye as she regarded Mingyu.

  “Have you thought about what you’ve done?” Madame asked coldly.

  “I’ve had little to do but think. Has the Lotus been doing well in my absence? Can you still afford good food and wine for your guests?”

  “You’re not the only one of my girls who is in demand.”

  “It seems I’m not your girl at all. Inspector Xi now determines what I do and say.”

  Madame appeared wounded. “This is not what I wanted for you.”

  “But the censor paid you too much money to refuse,” Mingyu retorted. “How much was I worth to you, in the end?”

  “Disrespectful!” she spat. “I raised you. Trained you myself.”

  “What, Mother? No longer regretful?”

  Madame narrowed her eyes at her, all trace of sorrow gone. Everything wit
h her was an act.

  Old Auntie interrupted with a grunt. “Apologize, my child,” she pleaded.

  Mingyu looked from Mother to Old Auntie. This was supposed to be her family, but what an empty association it was. They claimed affection, but every day under Madame Sun’s roof was marked into the ledger book. Even now, when her earnings paid for the Lotus’s upkeep, every mouth of rice and scrap of silk Madame purchased on her behalf was still added to her debt.

  “I owe you a substantial amount of money, Mother. One I know you never meant for me to repay,” Mingyu remarked. “You won’t convince me that I owe you gratitude on top of that. Or obedience. Or love.”

  Madame flinched at the last part, but her expression immediately hardened. “One day you’ll realize all that I’ve sacrificed for you. I treated you like a daughter.”

  “You are not my mother,” Mingyu scoffed. She tilted her chin toward Ziyi who stood silently near the door. “And she isn’t my sister. My true sister is gone from this place now and finally safe. You hold no power over me.”

  “I hold your bond, Mingyu, which means you still belong to me. The magistrate himself could not dispute that. Inspector Xi Lun is coming tonight to discuss redemption.” Madame strode up to her and took hold of her chin, like she had done so many times when Mingyu was younger. “You’re a smart girl. You know that acting defiant serves no purpose here. The inspector is your future. It would be best if you made him amenable toward you from the start.”

  Mingyu stared into her foster mother’s eyes. The woman’s nails grated over her skin like the talons of a dragon.

  “Make sure that you get a good price for me,” Mingyu said coldly.

  With a sniff, the headmistress turned on her heel. Old Auntie shuffled toward her once Madame had left.

  “Little Mingyu.”

  Her chest tightened. She hadn’t been called that in years, but she had once been the youngest in this house. The courtesan-in-training. Mingyu didn’t pull away when the elderly woman took hold of her hands.

  “Regardless of all that has happened, we have all lived together harmoniously in the Lotus Palace for all these years, have we not? Let us not part angrily after so long a time.”