The Lotus Palace

by Jeannie Lin

  “You would do that?”

  “Yue-ying.” He sounded hurt that she would even doubt it. “Come with me. We don’t have much time.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t leave Mingyu.” He hesitated, but she wouldn’t waver. “You go. I’ll stay and find a way inside.”

  He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before hurrying away from the yamen. Yue-ying made her way back to the gates. The crowd had dissipated as there was no spectacle to keep them, but the guards remained at the front.

  “My sister is in there,” she told them. “Tell the magistrate I won’t leave until I’m allowed to see her.”

  She sank to her knees dramatically before the gate, prepared to wait all day and night if she had to. One of the guards left to relay the message and she prayed. Magistrate Li had called on Mingyu in the past. He had held the banquet on the double fifth in her honor; he had to show some sign of mercy.

  It was the surly Constable Wu, not the magistrate, who appeared at the gate an hour later. By then, Yue-ying’s knees were sore and her legs had started to go numb. He looked down his nose at her, his height even more intimidating when she was on the ground.

  “Come.”

  He turned away before she could struggle to her feet. Wu was already halfway across the courtyard and she rushed to catch up with his long stride. As soon as she was beside him, he spoke again.

  “Lady Mingyu refuses to answer my questions.”

  “She’ll talk to me,” Yue-ying assured him, though she couldn’t be certain of it.

  “In Suzhou, I was known for being able to elicit a confession from the most hardened of criminals.” He looked down at her once more. His nose appeared long and sharp from that angle, like a bird of prey. “I do not wish to use such techniques here.”

  His words chilled her blood. Wu took her down a long corridor to the back of the compound while her heart pounded harder and faster with each step.

  His conduct toward Mingyu out in the street had appeared courteous, but his restrained manner had nothing to do with kindness or manners. The man was without emotion. He felt no joy or triumph in apprehending a criminal, just as he felt no pleasure in beating a confession out of Mingyu. But he would do it all the same.

  The corridor led to a smaller courtyard surrounded by several smaller buildings. Armed guards were posted before each set of doors, which were locked with heavy chains. Despair took hold of Yue-ying when she realized this was the prison area. Mingyu was to be kept in one of these foreboding cells until her trial.

  Wu unlocked the chain in front of one of the sets of double doors, then held the door open until Yue-ying came forward. The air inside was stagnant. There were no windows and the only light came from vents cut high toward the ceiling. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust.

  Mingyu sat on a bench behind iron bars. Her hands were folded in her lap and her expression was blank. The cell was not even the size of her dressing room. There was straw laid out on the floor and a bucket in the corner.

  As soon as Mingyu saw her she stood and came forward. “Yue-ying.”

  Yue-ying clasped her sister’s hand through the bars and held on tight. The rough metal bit into her cheek as she tried to get as close as she could.

  “Why did you leave me?” she whispered, angry and relieved at once. “I was so afraid.”

  “I had to,” Mingyu said sadly. Gone was the cool, distant expression she’d worn out in the street. “I had to.”

  “You have to tell them everything that happened. There had to be some reason you did what you did.”

  Mingyu glanced behind Yue-ying. “There’s nothing to tell.”

  Constable Wu remained at the door, making no sound. Yue-ying had almost forgotten about him. He was a black spider as Bai Huang had described, utterly still and ready to snatch up his prey in his jaws.

  “Listen to me.” Mingyu brought Yue-ying’s attention back. “I don’t regret anything. I did what had to be done.”

  “That banquet on the pleasure boat. You sent me away because you knew something would happen.”

  “Huilan was upset,” Mingyu explained. “She had overheard two men talking during the banquet. The traders discussed a precious commodity being held in a boat nearby, but she knew they were not speaking of goods. She couldn’t stand by and do nothing.” She paused and glanced momentarily away. “I couldn’t either.”

  “The stranger in the canal—”

  “Deserved his fate.”

  Yue-ying flinched at the venom in Mingyu’s response. “Magistrate Li will have you tried for murder. If the man attacked you or if he was an outlaw, then the magistrate might take that into consideration. You have to tell him everything.”

  Mingyu shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Huilan is dead and I must bear this burden alone. It’s better this way.”

  Yue-ying wanted to reach through the bars and shake her. Why was she being so stubborn? What was she still hiding?

  “Is it because of the child?”

  Immediately, Mingyu’s gaze shuttered. She was distant again, retreating within herself. “Lord Bai Huang,” she said finally. “I saw him beside you today, out on the street.”

  “Lord Bai is a good man. He’s gone to his father to see if he can petition the magistrate.”

  Mingyu didn’t hear any of it. “Go with him. You must make him fall in love with you. Find out what he wants most and use it to keep him. It’s not so hard, Little Sister.”

  She couldn’t believe it. Mingyu was trying to give her advice on how to seduce Bai Huang while her very life was in danger.

  “He cares for you,” Mingyu went on. “And I can’t watch over you any longer. If I know you’re taken care of and that the girl is safe, then I can be at peace whatever happens.”

  A knock on the door interrupted the conversation. They sat on the filthy floor with the cold, hard iron between them, holding on to each other as if the demons of hell would tear them apart.

  Wu came to stand over them. “Magistrate Li will be arriving shortly to question Lady Mingyu. It is time for Miss Yue-ying to leave.”

  Yue-ying didn’t want to weep or wail in front of this man. She sensed that he had no tolerance for weakness, but strength he at least respected. “Let me stay. I can convince her to speak.”

  “No. You need to go,” Mingyu insisted. She looked to Wu. “Take her out of here, Constable. I don’t want her in this place.”

  He was taken aback by Mingyu’s imperious tone. There was a pause before he spoke again. “Miss Yue-ying, I do not wish to use force.”

  He said it with the same unapologetic tone he’d used to warn her that he was not above beating a confession out of Mingyu. She squeezed Mingyu’s hand one last time and pressed her lips to it. “I’ll return, I promise. I’ll do everything I can to get you out of here.”

  She stood before Wu could take hold of her. It was hard for her not to look back as he led her outside and locked the door once more. Before she left, she met Constable Wu’s eyes and tried to follow Mingyu’s example.

  “Take care of her,” she implored.

  His jaw clenched and his eyes were unreadable, but she thought she saw something that might have been a nod.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  HUANG SOUGHT HIS father out at the Ministry of Defense, bypassing the petitioners to be brought directly to a private office in the interior of the building. His father sat at his desk, wearing an indigo robe and silk cap, which indicated his elevated rank. He had a brush in hand and was writing a letter as Huang approached.

  “Father.” He bowed respectfully. “I must ask something of you. This is an urgent matter.”

  “Another urgent matter?” Father asked, unblinking.

  His father didn’t need to raise his voice or issue threats to be intimidating. Huang took in a breath and forged on. “Magistrate Li has arrested a courtesan for the death of an unidentified man, but she’s innocent. The man who was killed was likely a smuggler involved in the illegal slave trade
.”

  “I don’t see what I can do in this situation. The magistrate is fully within rights to do what he sees fit.”

  “If Father can urge Magistrate Li for leniency or for him to hold back on his decision, then I’ll have time to track down this gang of outlaws.”

  His father set down his brush and exhaled slowly. “Huang, I was concerned when you came to me about the cargo ship.”

  “But we did manage to uncover illegal activity at that port.”

  “The Ministry of Defense does not bother with the capture of petty thieves. There are other offices for that.” He tapped his knuckles impatiently. “I cannot interfere with the magistrate’s decision. This appears to be your personal quest and I would lose face if I became involved. We would lose face,” he emphasized, reminding Huang that his actions reflected on their entire family.

  “This is a matter of justice,” he insisted.

  Father rubbed a hand over his beard, his frown deepening. “The only crime I see here is of the wrongful death of a laborer. This courtesan, though perhaps popular in the Pingkang li, possesses little merit to warrant a pardon.”

  “It would be a different matter if she was a noblewoman from a good family.”

  “But she is not,” Father countered and there was nothing that could be said to refute it. He leaned back in his chair, hands clasped thoughtfully before him. At first Huang thought Father was reconsidering his request, but apparently he was occupied by another thought. “Does the accused have any relation to the woman who is currently living in your quarters?”

  Huang stopped short. He hadn’t made any effort to hide his association with Yue-ying, but he was surprised that Father would make note of it. Then again, his father had ordered him watched back in Fujian. Apparently he had continued to do so in the capital.

  He squared his shoulders as if readying for battle. “Was it Wei-wei or Zhou Dan who told you?”

  “I see that I am not mistaken.”

  “You still don’t trust me, Father.”

  “I do trust you, Huang.” Father stood from his desk, exhaling sharply. “It is not uncommon to have affairs or to take a mistress during this time in your life, but it is your responsibility to know your limits. You have become too deeply involved in the scandals of the pleasure quarter.”

  “As you and I had planned,” Huang challenged.

  Father shook his head at the spark of defiance. “You will cease this investigation and end this affair immediately.”

  “I apologize, Father, but I cannot do that.” There was no retreating now. He might as well wager everything he had. “I want Yue-ying to be my wife.”

  “It is hardly appropriate for you to take a concubine at this time.”

  “Not a concubine. My wife.”

  Father paused, as if gathering strength for a counterattack, but all he said was, “You’ve forgotten yourself.”

  Picking up his brush, he made as if the conversation was finished.

  “She’s loyal,” Huang argued, refusing to be dismissed so easily. “She’s clever.”

  With a sigh, Father set the brush back down and regarded him calmly. “She’s a prostitute.”

  He met his father’s gaze without wavering. “We belong to one another.”

  Huang knew what he was proposing was unconventional, even scandalous, but whatever Yue-ying had been in the past, she was his now. He wouldn’t throw her aside even at his father’s command.

  All of his passion was wasted. Father shook his head, refusing to engage in the debate enough to even become angry.

  “Impossible.” His next words were issued with the solemnity of an oath. “Huang, if you insist on doing this, you are no longer my son.”

  * * *

  HUANG LEFT THE administrative sector in a dark mood. Even in their worst moments, Father had never threatened to disown him. He walked through the streets at a demanding pace, hoping the physical exertion would be enough to clear his head.

  In the past, he had gambled himself into debt and became entangled with crooked money-lenders, but those were apparently wrongs that could be forgiven. An arranged marriage was an agreement between families. To break an arrangement would bring the entire family’s honor into question. He should have known better. It wasn’t done.

  It was exactly as Yue-ying had foretold, and he was just as blind and idealistic as she’d accused him of being. Their affair was assumed to be a momentary infatuation, an indiscretion of his youth. But he’d engaged in liaisons before and he knew in his soul, in the very marrow of his bones, that what he felt for Yue-ying was different.

  She was clever without the benefit of flowery words. Brave without the benefit of strength. Generous without the benefit of wealth. Yue-ying was true and honest, and thus could see the truth when no one else could. She had seen him, while others were distracted by his wealth and the spectacle of himself he’d deliberately created.

  He spent the next half hour wandering in the direction of the Pingkang li, trying to figure out what to do about Mingyu and cursing himself for bringing the subject of Yue-ying to his father in such a clumsy fashion. Father was a man of logic. He should have spent more time composing a solid argument before trying to open a discussion.

  A figure stepped into his path, and Huang snapped out of his reverie, all senses alert.

  “You can stop reaching for your knife,” Gao said with a half smile.

  For a moment, Huang thought that his gambler’s affliction had dragged him unknowingly back to the gambling dens, but they were in a residential area just outside of the East Market.

  “Why are you here?” Huang demanded, keeping his knife close at hand. It was still daylight and a steady flow of traffic filled the street, but none of that meant he was safe if Gao was there to kill him.

  “Don’t worry, friend. I came to find you because you never returned for the information you paid for. I could have simply taken your money but—” his grin showed a row of white, even teeth “—I’m an honest businessman.”

  Gao fell into step beside him and assumed an outward appearance of friendship. “Those rats who were sent to bully you were hired hands, pulled off the street. They were only ordered to frighten you, not bring you any harm.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “The money offered wasn’t nearly enough to attack a favored son such as yourself.”

  Which reminded him of how much money Gao must have accepted to leave him bleeding in the street.

  “Do you know who hired them?”

  Gao shook his head. “Whoever did it was very careful. Those men weren’t from the local gangs.”

  One of them had referred to Yue-ying as a half-moon whore, a name she had thought she’d left behind when she was taken from the brothel.

  “They were from the South Market area,” he guessed.

  Gao looked surprised at his sudden intuition. “It’s possible. How did you know?”

  He shrugged. “A guess. We’ve uncovered some illicit activity in the quarter with smugglers and slave traders—vermin who kidnap young girls to sell them off,” Huang told him.

  “It’s a common practice, here as well as throughout the empire. Most officials choose to overlook it.”

  The sideways glance that Gao shot at him clearly marked him as one of the blissfully ignorant.

  “No glory in catching petty smugglers,” Huang muttered bitterly beneath his breath. The upper levels of government cared nothing about this business of the streets. His father was right: this was a personal quest. He had to see it through to the end.

  He turned his attention back to Gao. “There was a child who was taken from the slave traders. She’s been hidden somewhere close.”

  “That’s interesting. There was someone looking for a child quite recently.”

  “The kidnappers want the child back?”

  Gao’s mouth turned downward. “Or they want her silenced. Same as that courtesan of yours who was strangled at the Hundred Songs.”

  Someo
ne didn’t want to be exposed. Perhaps the city officials tended to overlook certain crimes in the city, but there was a newly appointed magistrate and head constable as well as a new Emperor on the throne. Whoever was in charge of this ring was intent on keeping things the way they had been.

  “This involves someone with influence. Someone who has been profiting from this for a long time.” Huilan and Mingyu must have discovered his activities, but Huilan was dead now. Huang rubbed a hand over his temple. “I need to find the missing girl. She’s in danger.”

  “I might be able to help.”

  “I know.” He shook his head in disgust. “For a price.”

  Considering the amount of money he kept paying out, no wonder Gao kept him alive. Huang supposed it was no worse than throwing his money away at the tables. Gao didn’t care for the intricacies of honorable conduct or bureaucracy. He was focused simply and effectively on getting the job done, which was exactly what Huang needed at the moment. And who better to find a killer than another killer?

  * * *

  YUE-YING WAS SO lost in thought when she left the yamen that she didn’t see Zhou Dan until he was right in front of her.

  He dipped his head in a slight bow. “Miss Yue-ying.”

  She looked over to the carriage in the street. “Did Lord Bai ask you to wait for me?”

  “He instructed me to take you safely home.”

  Zhou Dan helped her into the carriage before climbing into the driver’s seat. There was always a mischievous glint in his eye even when he was making an effort to appear serious, as he was now. She liked him, though it felt uncomfortable to have him wait on her when they were both servants.

  “Have you been with the Bai household very long?” she asked once they were on their way.

  “From the day of my birth, miss,” he replied over his shoulder. “My father works with the horses. Mother is in the kitchen.”

  “Then you and Lord Bai must have been children together.” Zhou Dan looked to be about the same age as Bai Huang.

  “Though we grew up in the same household, it might as well have been the sun and the moon. We all knew we weren’t supposed to distract the young lord. Bai Furen was always strict about his education.”