CHAPTER ELEVEN
T
HE
MIDDLE
OF
the month brought the full moon and another visit to the temple. Yue-ying held up a parasol to shield Mingyu from the midday sun as they entered the courtyard where they were greeted by an unexpected sight. Whereas the other templegoers were strolling about the garden, Wu Kaifeng stood at the steps leading to the hall of worship, watching all who came in or out.
Mingyu leaned in close. “That constable certainly is everywhere. I’ve seen statues of the demon Mara that looked more inviting.”
“Shh!” Yue-ying hushed, suppressing a snort of laughter.
“Are you trying to catch the interest of any particular lady, Constable Wu?” Mingyu teased as they approached.
“Madame Lui of the Hundred Songs said that Lady Huilan would come here every month.” His gaze swept the courtyard, taking in the scholars and ladies who were present. “This place seems to be popular.”
“You are still trying to find Huilan’s killer,” Mingyu remarked in a more somber tone. “I do hope you find him soon.”
“Or her,” Wu amended. “Women have been known to commit crimes the same as men.”
Mingyu gave him an odd look. “Your dedication is commendable,” she said after some consideration. There was apparently no polite and appropriate response when it came to Constable Wu.
Mingyu bowed and started to move past him with Yue-ying close behind, but Wu stopped them. “There is something I wanted to ask you, Lady Mingyu. In private.”
Yue-ying looked to Mingyu with a question in her eyes. Despite the crowd gathered in the courtyard, she didn’t want to leave Mingyu with the constable.
“I am sure it will only be a moment,” Mingyu said to her.
She handed her mistress the parasol and watched as the two of them retreated beneath the shade of the pear tree in the corner. Wu stood head and shoulders over Mingyu and Yue-ying could clearly see his expression, which meant she could clearly see that it was blank while he questioned Mingyu. The courtesan’s face was hidden mostly behind the parasol.
Yue-ying wandered to the pond to visit the venerable tortoise while she waited. Her old friend was outside on the rocks again, looking dusty and wrinkled. That was three visits she’d been able to see him. Usually he hid inside his cavern, and she might only catch the glimpse of his shell from beneath the rock.
She was pondering whimsically whether this was a good or bad omen, when the oddity of it struck her. The tortoise had been outside right after the earthquake. She had assumed the tremors had jostled him out of hiding.
“Yue-ying,” Mingyu called out across the courtyard. She was obviously in a mood. “Our head constable wishes to interrogate you now to see if he can catch me lying.”
She heard Mingyu with only half an ear. Ducking down, Yue-ying tried to peer beneath the rocks. Mingyu and Constable Wu came toward her just as she began to climb over the pond, hoisting up the edge of her skirt so it wouldn’t fall into the water.
“What are you doing?” Mingyu gasped.
Yue-ying knelt on her hands and knees before the tortoise. His black eyes flicked at her, but he otherwise let her be as she crouched and reached her hand into the crevice. There was something loose inside, the surface of it smooth and even. Her fingers closed around it and drew the object out into the light.
It was a silver ingot, molded into a tablet and stamped with a flower. She reached in again and pulled out another then another. She looked up to see Mingyu and Wu Kaifeng staring at her hands, which were overflowing with silver.
* * *
“T
HERE
IS
NO
way to be certain that the sliver belonged to Huilan,” Mingyu protested.
She cast her shawl haplessly aside as she stepped into her parlor. Yue-ying followed obediently in her wake, retrieving the length of green gauze and then Mingyu’s slippers, which she had discarded, one just inside the door and another by the sitting area.
“The stash was wrapped inside an embroidered shawl, one that certainly belonged to a lady of the quarter,” Yue-ying argued. “Huilan had said she would sell her jewels and she was planning to leave. Who else would have hidden the money there?”
“Thieves. A greedy widow hiding an inheritance. A corrupt abbot.” Mingyu’s imagination was endless. “Besides, I can’t imagine any courtesan possessing so much silver, even if she sold her entire wardrobe.”
Constable Wu had searched farther beneath the rocks. He retrieved an expensive length of silk wrapped around a cache of coins and ingots. Despite Mingyu’s talk of corrupt abbots, no one at the temple claimed the silver and Wu had promptly confiscated it.
“If Huilan had intended to run away from her foster mother, she would have needed to hide her money outside of the Hundred Songs,” Yue-ying reasoned. “Even Constable Wu believes it belonged to her.”
“What did that man speak to you about? He was horrible to me. No manners at all.”
“He asked about that banquet. The one on the pleasure boat both you and Huilan attended at the end of last month.”
Mingyu touched a finger to a point behind her ear and rubbed at the spot absently. “What did you tell him?”
Yue-ying knew that gesture very well. Mingyu did it out of habit when something agitated her. “There was nothing to tell. I left early that night, remember?”
“Oh, yes. That was the night.”
Mingyu slipped back into the dressing room and Yue-ying followed her. Yue-ying opened the dresser and knelt to place the discarded slippers inside. As she did so her hand brushed over another pair that had been recently cleaned.
Yue-ying straightened abruptly. Mingyu was at her dressing table, looking into the mirror. She removed a comb from her hair to smooth out a few wayward strands. The disinterest she affected was too calm, her mask too perfect.
“I found a pair of slippers covered in mud while you were away.” Yue-ying attempted a light tone though her voice sounded shrill to her ears. “I couldn’t get them completely clean.”
Mingyu waved her hand dismissively. “Throw them away, then.”
The slippers had been hidden at the back of the wardrobe. And hadn’t Mingyu been distant since the end of last month, right before the earthquake had shaken up the city?
Yue-ying felt sick to her stomach. There was mud all along the waterway leading from the docks and Mingyu and Huilan had been together the night of the banquet. A man had been killed around the same time and in the same vicinity. Only a short period later, Huilan was lying dead in her chamber.
Her heart pounded as she moved to help smooth out Mingyu’s hair. A case full of combs and glittering hair ornaments lay open on the dressing table, many of them gifts from admirers. Yue-ying couldn’t banish the feeling that one hairpin might be missing from among the jewelry.
Oh, she was being overly dramatic! A little mud on a slipper could mean a hundred things and Mingyu’s moods were always unpredictable. It was obvious Mingyu was having difficulties with her patron, General Deng. She had returned from her trip to the hot springs in a poor mood. The general had recently considered taking Mingyu as his concubine, but the situation had somehow fallen apart. Mingyu kept to herself about it.
There were enough tales of intrigue and danger in the Pingkang li. Yue-ying didn’t need to go making up more of her own.
As soon as Mingyu was perfect once more, Yue-ying went downstairs to see if Madame Sun had any particular instructions. According to the headmistress, there were no events to attend and Magistrate Li had said he would call that evening. Yue-ying hoped it wasn’t for yet another interrogation. Both Magistrate Li and Constable Wu had been to every house making inquiries, though the magistrate’s methods were considerably more restrained than his constable’s.
She was moving toward the kitchen to see if Old Auntie needed any help, when a knock came at the door. The messenger handed her a small parcel wrapped in silk, which she assumed was a gift for one of the courtesans until she saw the two characters inked onto the ribbon tied around it. It was her name.
Yue-ying snatched up the bundle and stuffed it into her sleeve. A tingle of anticipation ran up her spine as she darted into the main parlor and hid behind the bamboo screen. No one ever sent her gifts. Her pulse raced as she unwrapped the parcel. She knew immediately whom it was from.
Inside was a long silver hairpin. An ornament dangled from the top. It was set with a pale stone that glowed with an inner light. As she turned it this way and that, tiny fragments of color reflected from within the gem like a broken rainbow.
The pin was simple, yet eye-catching. It wasn’t merely pretty; it was intriguing. She hugged it to her chest and imagined Bai Huang searching for this pin, finding this one stone among all the sea of pearls and jade. Her heart felt as if it would burst.
Then a pang of disappointment struck her. How could she ever wear it? A maidservant had no use for something so frivolous. Jeweled ornaments were supposed to draw attention. A gift like this was intended to go to a lover.
She bundled the pin up and shoved it back into her sleeve. In the language of courtship, accepting such a gift meant something. She and Bai Huang were engaged in a flirtation, nothing more. That was all it could be. She would have to give the pin back.
For the rest of the morning, she went about her chores, tending to Mingyu, checking with the other courtesans to see if they needed anything in the market. Between tasks, she would hide away and take out the ornament once more, turning it to catch the light.
She realized the stone’s glow was like moonlight. A little moon. Her heart ached every time she saw it. She didn’t even dare to place it into her hair to give herself one glance of how the stone would look on her.
When she finally was able to get away, she moved swiftly through the market stalls to allow herself extra time to seek out Bai Huang. She didn’t have the coin to spend on hiring a sedan, so she walked past the Three Lanes to the quarter just north of the Pingkang li, the area where students often took residence while preparing for the exams. It took another half an hour searching through the winding alleyways before she found the right gate. By then, her feet were sore.
The residence was a humble, modestly sized space. The entrance courtyard could be spanned in twenty paces and there were several rooms surrounding it. She wondered whether there were other students living there along with Bai Huang, but the enclosure was quiet.
The shutters were open on the first room. She peeked inside to see Bai Huang seated at a desk. He held a book roll in his hands. According to reputation, he was supposed to be dozing at this time of day, yet here he was, reading from a scroll that was as thick as her arm. A deep line cut between his eyebrows. He was so focused that she took three steps into the study before he looked up.
“Yue-ying!” He started in astonishment. Then hastily stood. “What are you doing here? How did you know where to find me?”
“I spoke with the sedan carrier who took you home the other night.”
He folded the scroll closed and fumbled a drawer open. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Why are you so nervous?” She craned her neck to peer over the top of the desk.
“I’m not nervous,” he denied stiffly.
She wanted to laugh. “What is that? A pillow book?”
He dropped the scroll inside and pushed the drawer shut, his movements lacking their usual laconic grace. He was dressed in an understated house robe, dark brown edged in black. Nothing as flamboyant as what she usually saw him in, but as soon as he smoothed a hand over the front a transformation came over him.
“Miss Yue-ying, are you here to spy on me?” he drawled.
That wasn’t her intention, but now she was certainly curious. “What was that you were concentrating on so intently?”
“If you must know, I was searching for lines of poetry I could steal to impress young ladies. I’ve been told my own words are dreadfully boring.”
His eyes had recaptured their playful glint. Rather than charming her, it made her uneasy. What was he really like beneath the flower-prince persona that he wore like a second skin?
“I came to return this,” she said hastily.
She retrieved the hairpin, which she’d tucked beneath her sash, and laid it on the desk. Bai Huang’s gaze dropped to the ornament before returning to her face. His smile faded.
“Thank you, Lord Bai. It’s very pretty, but—”
Her pulse quickened as he came toward her. As he neared her breath caught in her throat, but he moved past her to the door. He lifted his hand, palm flat, and pushed it shut. The quiet rasp of wood against the frame was like the crash of thunder. She jumped at the sound.
Flustered, she tried to continue. “It’s too expensive. And when would I ever wear it?”
He was behind her now, very close, and she was afraid to turn to look at him. Yue-ying fixed her gaze back on the desk to the harmless piece of silver that had given her reason to come here and invade his privacy. A mix of emotions churned inside her.
“I saw this gem in the market yesterday and thought of you,” he said, his tone quiet.