The Lotus Palace (3 page)

A moment later, Huilan was beside him. “Two,” she said to the vendor, keeping her gaze directed forward.

He paid for the plums, pushing a folded paper across the stand along with his copper. The vendor smoothly took the coins while the paper disappeared into Huilan’s sleeve. The festival atmosphere provided opportunity for young men and women to mingle. To anyone watching, they were just another couple exchanging a love letter.

“What information did you have for me?” he asked.

“You’ll get it tomorrow.” Outwardly, her expression remained pleasant.

Several days ago, she had asked for his help to leave the quarter. She had been cryptic about it, offering information that she promised he’d find valuable. It hadn’t sounded like the usual courtesan’s plea to redeem her from a cruel foster mother. Huilan had acted genuinely frightened.

She showed none of that fear now. She was eerily calm as she took the skewers of plums from the vendor. “I must go. The commissioner paid for a musician for the hour. I don’t want him complaining to Mother.”

“Can you not speak here? Is there a better place for us to meet?”

Huilan shook her head and smiled mysteriously at him. As she turned to go she paused to touch a hand to his sleeve, just over his wrist. “Thank you for your concern, Lord Bai. You are very kind.”

With that, she floated back toward the minister’s awning, a vision in red silk.

He remained nearby for a while longer, in case Huilan had a change of heart, but when she made no further attempt to communicate with him, he continued upstream along the canal. A group of exam candidates called him over to share wine. None of them had passed this round of examinations. Some of them would return to their homes; others would stay on to make another attempt. The setback was treated like a well-worn battle scar. They were young and invincible.

These young men were the same set who sought sport at the gambling houses and courted the young, lesser-known beauties of the Pingkang li. Huang had once taken on the city with the same exuberance, but he’d become much wiser and more reserved. Some might say he’d been taught a lesson he’d never forget.

A gasp of excitement rose from the crowd as the dragonboats came into full view. There were over fifteen in the race. They presented a dramatic sight side by side, all painted in different colors like a rainbow flying over the water. The rowers in each vessel pulled in unison while the beating of the drums set out a steady rhythm.

Out of the corner of his eye, Huang caught sight of a vermilion sash set against a leaf-green robe. Yue-ying stood beside her mistress now, holding a bamboo parasol to shade her from the sun. Lady Mingyu was carrying on a conversation with several scholar-gentlemen who appeared completely enraptured by her words while Yue-ying remained quiet in the background.

What would she be like when freed from beneath the hand of her dictatorial mistress? He wanted very much to speak to her alone again and find out.

He looked back to the racing dragons. As Yue-ying had predicted, the blue dragon was trailing and the orange was in the middle of the fleet, with little chance of pulling ahead. Her two choices for favorites were in the lead; green and gold. He doubted those were merely her favorite colors as she claimed. Yue-ying had shown herself to be neither whimsical nor impulsive.

First Huilan had sought him out with her veiled promises. Then a clever little maidservant had him completely beguiled. That was the problem when dealing with the ladies of the North Hamlet. Every look and word had two meanings. They did it deliberately to taunt young, impressionable scholars. As if women weren’t enough of a mystery already.

CHAPTER THREE

T
HE
DAYTIME
ACTIVITIES
of the festival centered on the Grand Canal and dragonboat races, but once the sun went down the pleasure houses competed for the evening crowd. The Lotus Palace benefited from being one of the most recognizable establishments in the Pingkang li.

The building itself was two stories high and contained a number of parlors and a banquet hall suitable for entertaining, but the topmost tier was what gave the Lotus Palace its name. The deck was open on all sides, providing a view of the night sky. An octagon of painted beams supported the eaves, which curved upward to resemble the petals of a lotus flower. It was the perfect setting during the spring and summer for gazing at the moon and composing poetry over cups of warmed wine.

In addition to their usual patrons, the new county magistrate was hosting a banquet there—his first public gathering since taking office. Magistrate Li Yen had the disadvantage of not only being young for a man in his position, but appearing youthful as well. He was twenty-five years of age and it was widely believed he was only given his position due to family connections.

Yue-ying wondered whether the magistrate and his constables had discovered what had happened to the body in the river. The boat had been docked somewhere upstream and was dislodged by the earthquake, carrying the corpse down the waterway. There was little talk of it in the Pingkang li other than a few murmurings that he was likely a laborer who had been attacked by a street thief.

With the coming of the festival, the story was forgotten in favor of happier news. Tonight, Madame took the responsibility of greeting every guest and all of the courtesans were busy entertaining. That left Old Auntie and Yue-ying to make sure there was enough food and drink to keep things lively.

An area had been set up on the top floor for the banquet. Mingyu would serve as hostess while two of her courtesan-sisters attended to provide music and pour wine. Yue-ying was busy lighting and hanging lanterns onto the eaves.

“The Xifeng wine,” Mingyu reminded her as the time neared. Down below, they could already see the festival crowd beginning to gather.

Yue-ying headed for the stairs. The parlors on the second and first floors were filling quickly and the chants of a drinking game rang out. She passed by Auntie, who was balancing two trays of food.

The passage to the cellar was through the kitchen. It was a small area down a set of steps. She hung her lantern onto a hook on the wall as she went to the corner where the quality wines were kept. The jug was packed in straw and Yue-ying had started to dig it out when she heard a voice from behind. She spun around, pulse jumping.

“Is it the tremor of the earth, or the sight of you that unsettles me?”

Bai Huang had a shoulder against the doorframe. The lantern light revealed his characteristic grin.

“Lord Bai.” She breathed deep to steady herself. “The banquet is upstairs. You should join it.”

“I saw you coming down here and wanted to know your opinion,” he said.

Despite his pleasant tone, every muscle within her tensed. Yue-ying had long considered Bai Huang to be harmless. He was well mannered and carefree, nothing more than a bored aristocrat seeking diversion. His improprieties bordered on the ridiculous rather than the sinister, but noblemen did not follow maidservants into dark cellars with good intentions.

“Do you like the verse I recited?” he asked. “I composed it after our last meeting.”

“Your poetry is very dull, as always.”

He straightened a little, eyes wide with surprise. She regretted her bluntness immediately. Someone like her was never allowed to insult a man like Lord Bai, but her heart was beating too fast to think clearly. She needed to make it clear that she wasn’t Mingyu. She wasn’t a part of his games of courtship and seduction.

Back in the brothel, the men didn’t come to her for conversation. Though the customers were often merchants and tradesmen rather than gentlemen, scholars didn’t by any means find whorehouses beneath them. Men of rank might exercise good manners in public, but they experienced the full force of lust like any other man. Alone here, without Mingyu’s protection, Yue-ying was as helpless as she had once been, lying beneath men who weren’t looking for talent or beauty.

Keeping her shoulders squared, she started toward the exit. She wouldn’t show any weakness. She would show no emotion at all and he would see there was no sport to be had here.

Bai Huang remained at the doorway, his expression now more contemplative than flirtatious. She would have to get past him. She held her breath.
Don’t slow down
, she told herself.
Keep moving.

At the last moment, he shifted his weight to block her path. “You didn’t get your wine,” he remarked softly.

She stilled like a hare under a falcon’s gaze. His beauty made him seem suddenly more villainous. He wouldn’t even have to use force. Lord Bai likely thought he could lure any manner of woman into his arms and they should be grateful for it.

“Move aside,” she said, her mouth pressed tight. Then she wondered if he was the sort of man who thrived on the conquest. She’d known those as well. She softened her tone. “If you please, Mingyu will be wondering where I am, Lord Bai.”

She added the honorific as an afterthought, hoping not to anger him. And then she’d mentioned her mistress’s name in desperation. If he’d merely forgotten himself for a moment, then he could remember himself now. She hoped Bai Huang was the sort who would be willing to laugh away a misunderstanding if she didn’t make him lose face.

“So my poetry is dull, you say?” His tone was curious, thoughtful and with a hint of interest. “Why are you the only one who has ever told me that?”

“This humble servant misspoke. I beg your pardon.”

She considered once again hurrying past him, back into the light and the crowd upstairs, but he was keeping his distance and his posture was relaxed. His hands were lowered by his sides and he was doing nothing more than watching her, waiting for an answer.

“Why are you the only one who doesn’t laugh at me along with the others?”

“I wouldn’t dare—”

“I don’t believe that’s the reason.”

Bai Huang smiled, his expression warm. He even made as if to step aside. Like a fool, she relaxed her guard and started for the stairs only to be pulled roughly against him. She braced both hands flat against his chest, but that didn’t stop him from pressing his lips to hers.

Yue-ying twisted in his grasp. The moment his hold loosened, she struck him across the face as hard as she could.

The sound of that slap resounded through the cellar, followed by an ugly silence. He stared at her, stunned. She was equally frozen, not quite believing what she had just done. Only the sting of her palm confirmed it.

Her heart pounded as she waited for him to retaliate. She’d hit a nobleman. A man so high above her, she’d surely be beaten for the insult. But Lord Bai merely straightened, dropping his hand slowly from his cheek. His eyes remained on her the entire time. He looked startled, almost boyishly contrite. His lips parted with the beginnings of a question.

Leaving the lantern, she rushed past him and stumbled up the stairs in the dark. She hurried through the kitchen, expecting to hear him charging after her at any moment. At the main hall, she stopped and bent, pressing a hand to her ribcage as she tried to catch her breath.

“Yue-ying?” Ziyi, one of the younger girls, stopped to check on her. “Are you all right?”

She glanced once more over her shoulder. Though the nobleman was nowhere to be seen, her heart was still beating fast and she willed herself to calm down. “I just need to get back,” she lied.

With a deep breath, she climbed the stairs to return to the banquet on the upper floor where she was met by the cool night air and the glow of lanterns. She stood there, blinking and lost as if the Lotus had suddenly become a foreign land.

The guests were seated on pillows arranged around several low tables and the celebration was already under way. Mingyu caught her eye from the center of the gathering. Though Mingyu was in midconversation with Magistrate Li and the old historian Taizhu, she stopped and started to rise.

“What happened?” Mingyu demanded as Yue-ying came to her.

“It’s nothing,” she whispered.

It really was nothing to speak of. She was unharmed and it was better for everyone if she didn’t make trouble.

Lord Bai appeared at the top of the stairs. He paused for a moment to scan through the banquet and it wasn’t long before his gaze centered on them. With a wide grin, he sauntered over.

“Any room here?” he inquired casually, as if he weren’t addressing the county magistrate and an official of the Hanlin Academy.

“Young Lord Bai,” the magistrate greeted. “This banquet is to thank Lady Mingyu for an introduction to the quarter. Any friend of hers is certainly welcome.”

“Lord Bai, if you please.” Mingyu held out her hand in invitation, but her mouth formed a hard line.

Magistrate Li graciously offered the seat beside him and Yue-ying edged away as Bai Huang came near. He didn’t even glance her way as he sat down. To Yue-ying’s relief, Mingyu asked one of the girls to retrieve the wine and took it upon herself to pour. Yue-ying retreated back a few steps.

It was just a kiss, she scolded herself. It was over and done with and the nobleman didn’t seem intent on exacting revenge for her slap. The best thing to do was to forget about it.

“What happened there?” Magistrate Li asked, gesturing toward his face.

Bai Huang placed his fingertips beneath his eye and felt along the reddened scratch beneath it. She hadn’t realized she’d left a mark.

He seemed as surprised as she was. “This? I received this on the way over here. Made the mistake of cornering an alley cat.” His eyes flicked momentarily to her. “A well-deserved punishment.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. Was he playing with her still? Despite his advances being unwelcome, she was left scandalized. It was as if she’d stolen away deliberately to meet him, as if they now shared a secret. She wanted no part of it.

The nobleman had returned to his usual tricks. He complimented Mingyu effusively, likening her to a peach blossom.

“But peach blossoms are known for being so delicate and their season is quite brief,” Mingyu replied coolly.

Bai Huang blinked at her, befuddled. “A lily, then?” he offered.

The party laughed at the exchange and he continued to look bewildered for a moment before breaking out into a grin, pleased that he must have said something witty to evoke the response.

Out in the open, he hardly presented an intimidating figure. His robe was overly flamboyant, his posture laid-back. He drank too much and threw money around. He enjoyed his special place as the beloved fool of the Pingkang li, but Yue-ying had never found him amusing. His humor always seemed too forced to her. His efforts lacked spontaneity.

Magistrate Li picked up the conversation, perhaps feeling obligated as the banquet’s sponsor. “Lord Bai, your love for verses must be in your blood. I hear that you are related to the poet Bai Juyi. His passing was a great loss.”

“A distant relation,” the nobleman replied. “Though proud of the association, I would be ashamed to boast of it. Blood matters little next to merit, wouldn’t you say?”

Mingyu glanced up from her conversation with Taizhu. The two listened with mild interest.

“No one would disagree with that,” Li said amiably.

“Now, the magistrate has something to boast about. What’s this? Attaining the rank of
jinshi
at only nineteen years of age? I must drink to you.”

The magistrate laughed and denied any special status. When not in his official robe, he could certainly be mistaken for one of the many students in the quarter with his pleasant manner and youthful face.

“He’s too humble,” Taizhu said. “Not only did he pass the palace exams, Li Yen earned the rank of selective talent, third overall in his class.”

Bai Huang insisted on raising his cup to drink to Li’s accomplishment. “I should ask the magistrate for advice,” he said boisterously. “What tricks did the magistrate employ to score so well?”

Magistrate Li’s ears flushed red at the tips, though that might have been from the drink. “No trick really.”

“This humble student can’t seem to pass no matter who he bribes.”

Bai Huang’s jest was met with nervous laughter from Li Yen as well as the other attendees. Taizhu scowled at him. Again he played the fool, or did he? His self-effacing smile was a bit hard at the edges.

Yue-ying was never part of such conversation. She was to remain silent and wait to be useful, always watching and always listening. It gave her an opportunity to scrutinize Lord Bai’s seemingly senseless questions and his overflowing enthusiasm. He wasn’t a know-nothing who was trying too hard to impress. He was trying very deliberately to provoke a response. But why?

She would have continued to dismiss him as well, until that horrible mockery of a kiss. Her view of him was forever changed.