by Jeannie Lin
“Come out to the garden where it’s quiet,” she implored.
They seated themselves beneath the pavilion which overlooked the fish pond. Mingyu glanced around the garden, which seemed at once familiar and unfamiliar.
“So my husband was already dead as I said. All that headache of opening the mausoleum and stirring up so much trouble for no reason.”
“My sincerest apologies,” Mingyu conceded. “I must have been distraught to think otherwise.”
Outside of their inner circle, only Deng’s wife and son knew that there had been a second investigation. The official word was that the general had been beheaded by assassins and his bodyguards killed, as well. It wasn’t too far from the truth, though it was Deng who had sacrificed his own bodyguards in an attempt to save himself.
“As I said before, Lady Mingyu, you were always loyal to our family. I know you meant no harm.”
Tea arrived on a tray and Mingyu realized, with some dismay, that the woman intended to take some time with their conversation.
As Deng Furen spoke, her face was a mask, clean of all emotion. “We have suffered such tragedy here. You remember our servant Yuan Lo? He was taken in for questioning by the magistrate and fell ill in prison. The ordeal was too much for him and he passed away. I believe his soul wanted to follow his master.”
“Yuan was always a loyal and diligent servant,” Mingyu recalled.
“I don’t know if my husband ever spoke of my family. Our surname is Chen. We made our fortune through generations of trade in Guangdong province to the south. My marriage was arranged to Deng Zhi because he had shown promise in his military career. My husband had the Emperor’s favor, but he had no wealth in his coffers to recommend him. Though we married, my family felt Deng Zhi wasn’t quite worthy of them until he began to climb the ranks of the imperial court. He had a glorious career, did he not?”
Mingyu murmured in agreement.
“But how quickly the wind can change. We will be leaving Changan at the end of the week.” She performed a cursory survey of the courtyard. “The imperial court will be taking charge of this property. In return, they’ll allow us to relocate and establish ourselves near my family in the south. There will no longer be a Deng residence in the capital.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Furen.”
Deng’s widow continued without any hint of grief or regret. “Though no one has called it such, I know this is banishment. But I’ll be able to remain with my son. We have our lives to take with us. Emperors come and go. Time has a short memory. If Enlai works diligently and establishes himself, one day he will redeem the Deng name.”
“I am certain your son will go on to great things.”
“It really is better this way,” Deng Furen assured her.
Mingyu frowned, not quite following. “Better in which way?”
“That my husband died when he did, by the hands of some crazed assassin. All this talk of conspiracy and rebellion is nonsense. He was already gone when these rumors began, after all.”
A shudder ran down her spine. Deng Furen was acting peculiar. She continued speaking with the same quiet insistence.
“No matter what rumors people tried to start about him, Deng Zhi was a hero. He was given a state funeral to honor his service to the empire. That is what people will remember about him. Deng Enlai will always know he is the son of a great man.”
“That is how I will always remember him.”
“Then we are in agreement.” Solemnly, the widow held out an embroidered silk purse. “Please take this parting gift from our family.”
Mingyu took the purse with as much grace as she could summon. The weight of it sank into her hand.
“I can’t accept this.”
“I insist. For your service to our family. You have always been loyal, like Yuan Lo.”
Like Yuan Lo.
Her hand flew to her throat. Like everyone else, Mingyu accepted the story that the steward had sought revenge for his master. Yuan had confessed to the crimes and no one cared to ask any more questions, but someone besides the steward, someone General Deng had trusted, could have slipped the poison into his wine. The same person could very easily be the one who smuggled the tainted rice cake into Yuan’s cell.
Deng Furen pinned her with a sharp look. “I only ask that if you speak of my husband at all, speak well of him, otherwise remain silent. Men hang on your every word and I cannot have any rumors arising. This is for the sake of my son and his future.”
Deng’s wife certainly had the strength of will to silence Yuan Lo and even her own husband, if it meant the survival of her son. There was no way for Mingyu to be certain of it, but maybe it didn’t matter in the end.
She fingered the purse while the other woman’s intense scrutiny bore into her. Deng’s wife had been a force in Mingyu’s life for almost as long as Madame Sun, a constant presence in the shadows.
For a long time, her survival had depended on negotiating between husband and wife, being pleasant and beguiling to Deng while not presenting a threat to his wife. It was time to finally free herself from Deng’s ghost, from his wife, from all the chains that had held her down.
“Perhaps silence is best.” Her hands closed around the purse. This was blood money and she was going to take it. “Thank you for your generosity, Deng Furen.”
“Go in peace, Lady Mingyu. I believe this is the last we’ll see of each other.”
* * *
WHEN SHE RETURNED to the Lotus Palace, Mingyu went directly to Madame Sun’s study and set the purse onto the desk in front of her. The silver landed with a heavy thud.
“I wish to redeem myself.”
Madame’s gaze flicked up to her. She opened the purse and peered inside before closing it and pushing it back toward Mingyu. “That’s not nearly enough. You’re worth ten times that amount to me.”
“Then we’ll negotiate a fair price, Mother. I will pay it and you will relinquish my bond.”
The headmistress rose so she was eye to eye with Mingyu. “Have I not treated you well?”
“Well enough, and I’ve more than repaid you,” she replied, no longer relying on charm to deal with the headmistress. “You told me that women were slaves outside of the Pingkang li. Without the Lotus Palace, I would be no more than a man’s servant or concubine or whore. But I’m a slave here, as well.”
“You’re not a slave.”
“All my life you’ve spoken of how much you paid for me and how much you’ve continued to pay. You’ve inflated my debt to some unimaginable amount and I’ve allowed it. Now open your ledger book and tell me the number.”
Madame bit into her lip and shook her head. “There is no number. Don’t you realize you’re like a daughter to me, Mingyu?”
She appeared genuinely stricken which was nothing more than an act.
“Stop, Mother. I know all of your tricks.”
“But it’s not a trick. This is the truth.” There was sadness in Madame’s eyes as she came around the desk. “Of all my girls, you were the one most like me. I saw it from the beginning. You never showed any fear, even when you were first brought to Changan. Your sister cried and clung to you, but you didn’t shed a tear even when they took her away.”
“I cried that night when I was alone,” Mingyu said defiantly. What was Madame trying to say? That she was meant for this life?
“Of course you cried. We all cry, but you understood even then not to show any weakness. I knew one day you would have the world at your feet.”
It was easy to be wooed by her words. Xi Lun had painted a picture of her as a pretty thing, lonely and helpless, but Madame’s vision of her was so much more enticing. It was a vision where Mingyu was enchanting and powerful and beloved. Together they would fool them all.
“This is not my world any longer,�
� Mingyu told her quietly. “It’s time to go.”
Madame’s shoulders sank. “I was afraid this would happen when your sister married. I let her stay here because I wanted you to be happy, Mingyu. I wanted you to take over the Lotus Palace when I’m gone.”
“To buy and train young girls who were taken from their families?”
“You and your sister were sold. You and so many other girls. Isn’t this a better life than the one you left behind?”
The question cut directly to her heart and Mingyu couldn’t deny the truth. Her own mother hadn’t wanted her, but Madame did. For that alone, Mingyu had allowed herself to be chained all these years.
“I have money saved away.” Mingyu hated that there were tears in her eyes, but she wouldn’t waver this time. She gestured toward the purse on the desk. “More than this. You can have it all, Mother.”
“Keep it.” Madame’s reply was rough with emotion. She turned away to stare at the painting on the wall. “Someone has already redeemed your bond.”
“How could you—” Her throat closed up. She was finally ready to fight for her freedom and Madame had already sold her?
“Not like that!” Madame went to her cabinet to pull out a box. “He came to me days ago and said he wanted you released from servitude.”
The container was fashioned of plain wood, nothing special to look at, but when Mingyu opened the lid, an array of jade pieces lay inside.
“Wu Kaifeng,” Mingyu whispered. He hadn’t told her about the jade, but she knew it was him.
“I can’t imagine where a man like that would get so much wealth,” Madame went on. “I figured it was better not to ask in case he stole it. Or killed someone for it.”
“Don’t talk about him like that, Mother.”
Mingyu ran her hands over the green stone, her heart in her throat. A few of the pieces were as large as her fist, worth little now as rough as they were. Once carved and polished they would command a sizable fortune.
“Still not enough to buy you, but enough to ease the pain of losing you,” Madame said with a snort. She came up beside Mingyu. “It’s him, isn’t it? The man you don’t love.”
“I don’t love him,” she echoed hollowly, barely able to breathe. Her chest felt like those heavy pieces of jade had been dropped onto it.
She was lying to herself again. If Kaifeng were here, he wouldn’t have allowed it. Wu Kaifeng, the man whom she had never been able to hide from. Kaifeng with his rough, unfinished edges. The only man who would want her to be free, but didn’t want to own her.
“I have to go.”
Mingyu turned and did just that, leaving the Lotus Palace and the Pingkang li behind. There was nothing holding her back this time.
* * *
KAIFENG BRACED HIS foot against the edge of the rooftop and placed a thatch of straw over the bare spot. The straw was all he could afford at the moment. Without his constable’s wages, his funds had drained quickly. He was reaching for the next bundle when he heard footsteps below. He heard them hurrying through the main room of the former teahouse, then up the stairs and down again.
“Wu Kaifeng, where are you?”
By the time Mingyu appeared down in the garden below, his heart was pounding so hard he thought it would burst. She looked left and right through the garden.
“Mingyu,” he called down.
She swung around and stared up at him, her face streaked with tears. “Why didn’t you tell me you had gone to Madame Sun?”
He repositioned himself so he could face her. “You needed to decide for yourself. I didn’t want to sway you.”
“This is courtship, Kaifeng. You’re supposed to be persuasive.”
“This is courtship?”
Her gaze narrowed on him as if she was preparing to wring his neck. “Why are you up there?” she asked finally, apparently too irritated with his last question to give an answer.
“I need to repair the leaks before the next rain.”
For the first time since he’d known her, Mingyu appeared uncertain, almost shy. “Then you’re not leaving?”
“No one wanted this place.”
Mingyu looked up at him, lost and overcome and more beautiful than he’d ever seen her. There was no death hanging over them, no crime to solve. There was simply the two of them and all the possibilities the world could offer.
“I want it,” she whispered.
Kaifeng couldn’t climb down fast enough.
Mingyu waited at the foot of the ladder. When he finally stood before her, his heart was so full he didn’t know what to say.
“You’re wrong about why I came to you. It wasn’t because I was unhappy,” she insisted, even though her nose was red. Even though her eyes were swollen.
“I was wrong,” he admitted, taking her face in his hands as gently as he could. He ran his thumbs over the elegant curves of her cheekbones, the line of her jaw. “I didn’t know how to recognize it. The first time you smiled at me, genuinely smiled, I was happy. When we kissed on the rooftop of the Lotus, that was happiness. When you confided in me about your sister. When I hear you play.” With each reply, he drew her closer until she was held tight against him. “I’m never happier than when you tease me mercilessly. And now, Mingyu. I’m happy now.”
She raised herself onto her toes and he bent to capture her lips. Mingyu was perfect in his arms, soft, feminine, a wonder. Just as his blood heated, she broke away.
“You’re a demon, Kaifeng. I was heartbroken. I pined over you.”
“You did?” His heart shouldn’t have warmed at that, but it did. “I wasn’t certain you’d come. I was convinced that you never would have sought me out if you had any choice, but for a long time I didn’t care why you were there. Only that you were.”
“Don’t you see?” She took hold of the front of his robe to pull him toward her. “You’re the only one I ever wanted.”
“Even if there’s no reason for it.”
“But there is.” Mingyu wrapped her arms around him and he breathed in the fragrance of her hair, the faint scent of jasmine mingled with the gold-and-green scent of autumn. “I’ll tell you all of my reasons and when I’m done, we’ll have gone gray together and you won’t doubt any longer.”
All his life, Kaifeng had failed to recognize until too late who were the people that mattered. Not this time. He held Mingyu against him. Not this time.
Mingyu sat him down on the stone in the center of the place that had once been a garden. When he put his arms around her once more, Mingyu didn’t speak of the past or the why and how of what had brought them there.
“Let’s talk of something else,” she said. “Let’s talk about what happens tomorrow.”
EPILOGUE
MINGYU LIFTED HER ink brush and stared down at the square of colored paper before her. She was sitting in her favorite spot in the garden. Now that it was spring, the first flowers with their pink-and-yellow blooms were starting to appear.
The teahouse was no longer a dilapidated ruin, but a home that she and Kaifeng had worked on together throughout the fall and winter. They hoped it would soon become more than that.
She was seated at one of the tables they had set up where guests could enjoy tea while looking out into the garden. Potential guests, at least. The tables were empty for now as well as the ones in the main room.
The idea had come to them when she had tried to pay Kaifeng back for the jade he had given to Madame Sun.
“You know I can’t bear to be indebted to you,” she had told him, dragging out the stash of silver and coins she had collected over the years.
“But the jade didn’t belong to me,” he had replied.
So they had set about using the remaining money to build their new life. Kaifeng would create special blends of tea and spiced wine
with his knowledge of herbs. Mingyu would provide conversation and poetry. It had seemed so easy at first, until it wasn’t.
Much of their new life had revolved around fixing and furnishing the teahouse as well as reviving the garden. The silver went quicker than they thought it would. It was a very different life for both of them, Mingyu no longer supported by wealthy patrons and Kaifeng no longer earning a wage as constable. By wintertime, they were accounting for each and every coin that went out.
But the work had been worth it, Mingyu thought as she looked back at the teahouse. The appearance was understated, nothing like the opulence of the Lotus Palace. The floors and walls were bare wood Kaifeng sanded himself, working diligently and methodically. The scrolls on the walls were in her own hand.
The garden had presented the toughest challenge. Mingyu had tended it for months, pulling weeds and crabgrass and planting seeds. It was much harder to get things to grow than she had first assumed, but now the grounds resembled the peaceful and elegant landscape of her dreams.
Usually sitting out in the garden would calm her, but today nothing was coming easily. Mingyu had her ink stone set out before her and a set of papers beside it. She needed to create invitations for the opening of their teahouse, but her calligraphy wasn’t flowing. The characters appeared inelegant and forced. Impatiently, she snatched up the paper before her and crumpled it into a ball.
Kaifeng came out into the garden to stand beside her, careful to keep his shadow out of her way. “Do you really think your sister wouldn’t come if the writing wasn’t perfect?”
“But what if no one comes?” she fretted.
“Of course they will. You’re Lady Mingyu, beautiful and unattainable.”
Mingyu smiled at Kaifeng’s slight emphasis on the unattainable part. She was starting to catch hints of his dry sense of humor, so subtle that it was nonexistent to most.
“You don’t know how it is. Notoriety fades quickly in the Three Lanes.” Dipping her brush, she started the invitation again. “You may enjoy favor one season and be shunned the next.”
