The Lotus Palace

by Jeannie Lin

  Huang lay back. Was he any wiser now? The dice no longer held the same lure for him. Instead he was fixated on a woman. A stubborn-headed, strong-willed woman who was determined to feel nothing for him but a reluctant fondness. He closed his eyes and his breathing deepened as he thought of her. Of her eyes, her lips. That neck. Long, damp, lovely. The graceful lines of it leading down to her breasts. He’d held them in his hands once and dreamed of doing so again. He drifted away happily on that thought.

  At least she was in his bed—even if he wasn’t there with her.

  Faintly, he heard the creak of the floorboards, the opening of the door. He opened his eyes to a brief sliver of moonlight that came and went. Suddenly, Huang was no longer alone in the darkness. He started to drag himself up, his head still clouded with dreams, when firm hands pressed against his chest to pin him down.

  “Yue-ying?”

  She lowered her mouth to his and if he had any doubts about who was with him, the kiss swept all question away. He had only known her body for a short span of time, but he knew her kiss. She tasted of the faint sweetness of plums and the tang of rice wine. With one hand in her hair, he dragged her down, his other hand rounding her waist to hold her to him.

  The shape of her molded against him and he was already hard, his body straining toward her. Yue-ying pushed up and his hands reached blindly to bring her back, to no avail. Her knees anchored themselves on either side of his hips as he heard the shift of cloth just above him.

  He lifted himself, his abdominal muscles tensing as he moved to help her. Her sash was already open and his fingers collided with hers as he slid the robe from her shoulders and freed her arms. There was nothing binding her breasts, no bodice or undergarment of any form. He thanked heaven for that. As soon as she was freed, his mouth closed hungrily over her nipple.

  He was rough in his eagerness, rasping over the sensitive peak with tongue and then teeth. She gasped, arching just out of his reach. He fell back onto the pallet, blissfully trapped beneath her.

  Yue-ying tugged at his tunic and pulled it over his head. His chest was bare now and he wore nothing but a pair of short trousers. His heartbeat quickened against her palm and his breathing grew harsh.

  “Is this what you want?” she whispered.

  Yes. “No.” He took hold of her wrists. “Not only this,” he amended, since his initial answer was an obvious lie.

  “I could see it in your eyes all night. This is inevitable, isn’t it? You’re a man. I’m a woman.”

  There was no passion in her words. They were as cutting as a knife and they cooled his desire enough for him to regain his reason.

  “Yue-ying, I think you should be mine. You know I’m already yours.”

  “That’s just bedroom talk.”

  “It’s not.”

  “Huang,” she admonished with a sigh.

  “All right, then, it is.” His hands found their way to the small of her back. “What else is more important between Heaven and Earth than this?”

  “You make the joining of bodies sound like something profound.”

  This said while she was straddled on top of him.

  “You make it sound as if it isn’t.”

  For once he appreciated his scholar’s propensity for words, because Yue-ying finally fell silent. Maybe she was thinking. He closed his eyes and pulled her to him, tucking her head against his chest. Maybe she would finally stop thinking.

  “I know most women would be grateful,” she said in the darkness.

  “I don’t want you to be grateful,” he said harshly, then much softer, “Well, at least until I’ve done something to earn it.”

  She chuckled at that. He could feel her squirming against him and he was grateful. What a wonder she was. What a challenge. There were certainly easier women to engage in affairs with, but it couldn’t be helped. He wanted Yue-ying and only her.

  They lay nestled together chastely, his chest rising and falling as his heartbeat settled.

  “Do you want me to go?” she asked into the crook of his neck.

  “No.”

  Regardless, she pulled away and coldness crept over him in her absence. He could hear her righting her clothes in the dark and breathed with relief when she settled back beside him.

  “Then I’ll stay.”

  Though she was no longer in his arms, the feeling of closeness remained. He didn’t want Yue-ying to give herself to him out of obligation or because he wanted it and she was indifferent either way.

  It was clear now she hadn’t truly wanted to bed him their first time together. He had already suffered the consequences of that, the selfish pleasure of the moment doused by her withdrawal afterward. He had experienced physical release, but was no closer to having the woman he truly wanted.

  Yue-ying was too clever to be courted with romance and poetry, and too honest to lie to him about her intentions. But she didn’t abhor his touch or his company. There had to be some way for them to meet in between. They were from two different worlds, but he wanted to understand her and no book existed that could give him the answers.

  Huang breathed deep and exhaled, silently reciting the Analects to keep his desire at bay. He hoped that, with her clothes on, he would at least be able to make it through until morning.

  * * *

  THERE WAS A TOUCH upon her wrist and a sensation of light through her eyelids. Yue-ying fluttered them open to the sight of Bai Huang beside her on the pallet, his face so close she could see every handsome feature in detail, bathed in the orange morning.

  She was lying on her stomach and her hand rested between them, palm up, as if she were reaching out to him in her sleep. He had laid his hand over her so that his knuckles caressed along the inside of her arm from wrist to elbow. A tremor slid down her spine. She held her breath, afraid to move should the moment break.

  “Close your eyes, Yue-ying. You’re still dreaming.”

  His tone was gentle and rough with sleep. She did as he asked, though his face remained imprinted before her. She could hear him getting up and tensed as he moved beside her.

  It wasn’t as if she were afraid of him. She wouldn’t have come to him if she had been. If Bai Huang had taken what she offered last night, then their roles would be established with her as his mistress. But to her surprise, he had refused. Now she didn’t know what he wanted.

  She could feel his presence over her and hear the deepening of his breath. Her fingers curled reflexively over the pallet as she waited. His first touch upon her could be anywhere and her skin tingled with anticipation.

  He laid the flat of his palm between her shoulder blades, pressing lightly. The weight was possessive, but reassuring. He slid it along her spine in one broad stroke.

  “You can breathe, love.”

  There was amusement in his tone. It was the second time he’d used such an endearment with her. It was presumptuous, but the words still made her quiver. She exhaled, willing all of her fears to leave with the expelling of her breath, but that was impossible.

  His fingers grazed the back of her neck as he swept her hair over her shoulder, sending another wave of sensation through her, warming her skin. Then his touch became deeper. Strong, but not overpowering. He started at her neck, caressing firmly, moving downward with the slope of her body as a guide.

  Her robe remained as a barrier between them. She could feel the pressure of his ministrations, but, other than the occasional brush against skin at her neck and again at her wrists, the touch felt removed from her body, so she wasn’t so vulnerable.

  It was...comfortable. She floated without a sense of place or time as if she were still dreaming. His hands were at her waist now, rounding her hips. What he was doing to her was certainly intimate, but not invasive. For once, she allowed herself to reach out a little, like the first spring bud peeking up through the moss toward the sun. Rather than hiding away, she awaited his next caress.

  She had been taken many times, but so rarely touched. And never in this way. H
er body before had consisted of only those few parts that seemed to interest most men. And their interest never lasted for long.

  Before she realized it, she was breathing more freely. Her fingers were no longer curled tight, her muscles no longer braced against the pallet. She was filled with a lazy warmth and she never wanted this feeling to end.

  When she had come here last night, there had been something unanswered within her. Though she felt no particular joy in the sex act, she still longed to be close to Bai Huang. She didn’t have the words to explain what he had become to her.

  It was no great sacrifice to lie in his bed, and be what he wanted her to be for a few moments while he panted over her and became like any other man. The act wasn’t unpleasant with him, but she could see how he wanted more from her than just willingness. She didn’t know if she could feel that way for him, but as his hands moved over her with such care she wished so very deeply that she could.

  Bai Huang had reached her legs. He took hold of her ankle and stroked gently along her instep. It tickled. She wriggled in his grasp, kicking a little in protest, and her eyes came open to glance over her shoulder. He was kneeling by her feet. There was laughter lighting his eyes, but his expression was focused.

  He shifted back up alongside her, rolling her onto her back. Yue-ying closed her eyes again as he lowered himself over her. She could feel the weight of his hands pushing against the pallet on either side of her and she swallowed.

  She knew this part. Some of the languid warmth that filled her ebbed away as she prepared for what would happen next. But Bai Huang didn’t remove her clothing. He didn’t position himself between her legs or push inside. Instead, he did...nothing.

  Her eyes flickered open and once again he was there, very close. His pupils were fathomless as he touched a hand to her cheek.

  “This, you like,” he murmured before bending to kiss her.

  She sighed against him, accepting the kiss, returning it. The soft caress of his lips quickly grew hard and urgent. Though he tried to hold his weight off her, his hips moved restlessly and she could feel how aroused he was. Yet he did nothing more than kiss her. Yue-ying circled her arms around Bai Huang’s shoulders and arched into him, losing herself in the simple pleasure of touch and warmth and closeness. And of him.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  YUE-YING LEARNED MORE of Bai Huang in the small intimacies of the day to day. Despite his reputation for never waking before noon, he actually rose quite early. He also seemed to roll out of bed with a book in his hand, the same way he went to sleep.

  Though he dressed extravagantly, he lived simply, immersing himself in studies and buying food and necessities from the nearby stalls whenever required.

  After two days away, Yue-ying returned to the Pingkang li to seek out news of Mingyu. Madame Sun complained about Constable Wu bringing in his gang to search every corner of the house, but business at the Lotus didn’t appear to be suffering in Mingyu’s absence. Every room was full of guests.

  The historian Taizhu was there as well, wearing a somber expression. Yue-ying served the old scholar tea and tried her best to listen to his diatribe about the new Emperor’s reforms. Mostly she nodded.

  He lowered his voice as soon as Madame Sun left to see to other patrons. “Has Mingyu tried to reach you?”

  “No, sir. I thought she might go to you.”

  Taizhu sighed. “I wish I could help her. Truly I do.”

  His broad shoulders appeared sunken and there was more gray in his hair. The last time she had seen him had been the night of the dragonboat festival, the same night Huilan was murdered. Since then, everything had changed.

  He finished his tea and said his farewell to Madame Sun. Moments later, Yue-ying took her leave as well and saw that Taizhu’s carriage was still in the street. The historian waved her over.

  “If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to come to me,” he said, handing her a bundle wrapped in cloth.

  There had been some murmuring that the historian and Mingyu were lovers, though he was more than twice her age. As far as Yue-ying could see, the scholar was merely protective of her sister. Like an old uncle. Taizhu even knew that she and Mingyu were sisters. Though they didn’t speak of their relationship openly, it wasn’t a secret they made a special effort to keep.

  She waited until the carriage rolled away before lifting the cloth. Inside was a small amount of silver, enough to get by for a little while.

  Yue-ying returned by foot to Bai Huang’s place and was surprised to see a young man and woman she didn’t recognize in the courtyard.

  “He isn’t here,” the man was saying.

  His clothing showed him to be a servant, though one from a notably wealthy household. The woman was elegantly dressed in blue silk with long flowing sleeves. She held a parasol in her hands.

  “Where could he be?” she asked. “It’s too early for him to be out drinking at the pleasure houses.”

  The man mumbled some reply before they looked up to see Yue-ying inside the gate.

  “Oh!” The woman stopped midstep and lowered her parasol. “I’m looking for my brother. I didn’t realize there was anyone else here.”

  “Lady Bai,” she greeted with an awkward bow, acutely aware of two pairs of eyes staring at her. “I am not certain when Lord Bai will return. He’s gone to the city academy.”

  Bai Huang hadn’t spoken of a sister, but then, he hadn’t spoken much of his family. They certainly weren’t on that familiar of terms.

  “I’ll wait for him, then,” his sister said breezily. “What is your name, miss?”

  “I’m called Yue-ying, my lady.”

  “Hmm, a very good name. Like Chancellor Zhuge Liang’s wife in the Record of the Three Kingdoms.”

  Yue-ying stared at her, confused and unable to return the compliment or courtesy in any way.

  “My family calls me Wei-wei,” the young lady added in a friendly tone, perhaps sensing Yue-ying’s discomfort.

  Bai Huang’s sister was evidently a woman of considerable learning. Yue-ying invited her into the study, using courtesy and ritual to fill the awkward silence, and set about brewing tea in the kitchen. She was really as much of a guest as Lady Bai was, but she did her best to act as hostess.

  Once the water was boiling, Yue-ying set the pot onto a tray and headed out into the courtyard. The manservant remained outside the door and gave her a brief nod as she passed by. Inside the study, Wei-wei had seated herself on a stool beside the desk. She was scanning the shelf of books with her posture straight and hands folded in her lap.

  Yue-ying set the tea tray at the edge of the desk. After a moment of hesitation, she carefully moved Bai Huang’s books and papers aside. It felt like an intrusion to touch his personal belongings.

  Wei-wei waited, watching with feline curiosity as Yue-ying poured hot water over the tea leaves. Though the two of them appeared to be of the same age, the lady had a confidence about her that made her seem older than Yue-ying. Her hair was fastened into a simple, elegant coil and she wore no makeup. She had no need of any embellishment. Bai Huang’s sister shared his features: his finely shaped nose and mouth. Her ivory skin was flawless, even without the benefit of powder.

  Yue-ying balanced a teacup in two hands before offering it to the lady. Then, with nowhere else to go, Yue-ying sat down behind the desk and began to pour another cup.

  A knowing look danced across Wei-wei’s face, but she composed herself. “Does my brother go to the academies often?”

  “He leaves to study almost every morning.”

  “How wonderful that must be,” Wei-wei remarked. “I wonder what the library must look like. So many books. Have you ever seen the academy?”

  “No, my lady.”

  What would a woman, any woman, be doing in such a place?

  “I didn’t realize my elder brother spent so much time with his studies. When we were young, we would have lessons together. He would always try to make me laugh.” Wei-wei spoke rapidly,
crisply, as if she had a thousand things to say and time were short. “But you see, if I laughed, I would be punished and nothing would happen to him. If I was caught even smiling, Father would think I lacked the ability to concentrate.”

  “Lord Bai is much more focused now” was all Yue-ying could think to say.

  Wei-wei drank her tea, watching Yue-ying the entire time. The silence lasted for no more than two sips.

  “Are you one of the infamous courtesans of the Pingkang li?” she asked with barely contained excitement.

  “I do live in the quarter, but am in no way famous or infamous, Lady Bai,” Yue-ying answered humbly.

  “I hear that in the North Hamlet, women compose their own poetry and carry on battles of wit with the most distinguished scholars of the imperial court.”

  “The scholars are more likely to be young candidates vying for a position and a battle of wits is not so impressive when you consider everyone is drinking quite a lot of wine.”

  Wei-wei laughed. “You are exactly as I imagined a courtesan must be like! Outspoken and fearless.”

  “I’m no courtesan, Lady Bai. I’m just a maidservant.”

  “But you’re here as a friend of my brother’s,” Wei-wei pointed out. “A very good friend.”

  Yue-ying started to protest, but Wei-wei was a step ahead of her.

  “A mere servant wouldn’t have taken that seat.” She indicated with a tilt of her head. “Or poured herself a cup of tea and engaged in such free-flowing conversation. Which tells me that, unlike the old woman who lives in the back of the house whom I encountered earlier, my brother must hold you in very high regard.”

  A night in Bai Huang’s bed was not enough to make her blush and giggle.

  “Something unexpected has happened to my sister and Lord Bai is merely helping me,” Yue-ying replied evenly.

  Wei-wei seemed disappointed. “But still, you’re here alone in his house with him. Such freedom! To be able to go where you please.”