Читать книгу The Lotus Palace - Jeannie Lin, Jeannie Lin - Страница 10

CHAPTER THREE

THE 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.

“Now I wonder why there are no imperial exams for women?” Mingyu chimed in, filling the tense silence.

Her suggestion was met with equal parts chuckling and enthusiastic support.

“A new exam would need to be designed. With a different set of questions,” Taizhu proposed.

“Why should the process be any different for a woman? I would welcome the privilege of being able to fail the imperial exams.” She gave Bai Huang a sly look and he beamed.

“Let us enforce a new rule.” Mingyu held up her hand dramatically and everyone quieted to listen. In this social gathering, she was official hostess and acting magistrate. “This is a festival night. Anyone who mentions exams or appointments or politics—” she cast Taizhu a pointed look, which he accepted with good humor “—must take a penalty drink and be subjected to a punishment of the group’s choosing.”

Everyone raised their cups to make the decree official and, with that, peace was restored. Yue-ying was moving around the table to refill cups when another arrival stepped onto the pavilion deck. Mingyu stared at the man in the dark robe without recognition.

“Wu Kaifeng, the head constable,” Yue-ying informed her.

She had mentioned the body found in the river, but Mingyu hadn’t been particularly interested in the crime or the presence of a new constable. It was bad luck to speak of death, so the Pingkang li went on as if a corpse hadn’t recently drifted ashore practically at their gate.

Constable Wu came directly to them. His gaze passed over the gathering and he managed a stiff bow. Afterward, he straightened and stood rigidly, uncomfortable with the surroundings. Though he held an appointed position, he was still a working man, subservient to nearly everyone present. He addressed the magistrate.

“Sir, there is a matter that needs your attention.” His austere countenance cast gloom over the banquet just as it had by the river.

“Please excuse us.” Li Yen stood and the two men moved to stand beside one of the columns.

After a brief exchange, the magistrate returned. “My apologies for leaving so early. Lady Mingyu.” He bowed once to her, before turning to Bai Huang. “Lord Bai, I am happy to have met you, but regret that we didn’t get to converse at any length. Perhaps you would like to walk with me?”

Bai Huang tilted his head in surprise. A confused smile touched his lips, but he stood and took his leave as well, leaving behind more than one set of raised eyebrows.

* * *

THE EVENING WAS warm and all the lanterns of the North Hamlet were aglow, prolonging the festival atmosphere of the day. It would have been a good night for walking, except it was difficult to feel comfortable with Li Yen beside him and his dark and brooding servant trailing behind.

It was well-known that the Li and Bai clans supported different factions in the imperial court, with Chancellor Li Deyu dominating the court for the reign of the last two emperors. A distant relation, the magistrate would insist.

“This was my first Duanwu in the capital,” Magistrate Li remarked as they continued down the lane. “I found the festival very enjoyable.”

“A good day indeed,” Huang concurred. “My dragonboat won today so I have a heavy purse to show for it. Are we headed to the center of the Three Lanes?”

“My apologies for this delay. Has Lord Bai ever been to the House of a Hundred Songs?”

The hairs on the back of Huang’s neck rose. “The Hundred Songs boasts a few of the most talented courtesans in the district...outside of Lady Mingyu, of course.”

“I promised to make an appearance there tonight,” Li said smoothly. “If you don’t mind accompanying me?”

Li turned onto the central lane and Huang followed dutifully, keeping his guard up. The magistrate’s soft-spoken manner hid a well of ambition.

The Hundred Songs was always a cheerful place. Huang was known there as well. The house wasn’t nearly as grand in style or reputation as the Lotus Palace, but pink lanterns and carved phoenixes gave it a romantic look. The atmosphere inside was busy, but more muted than the revelry they had left behind. The hostess greeted them with some reserve.

“Why so quiet this evening, Little Plum?” Huang asked with a smile.

Mei ducked her head and beckoned them to follow her. Music floated throughout the halls, a harmonious blend of the rain-song sound of the pipa and the trill of a flute. The three of them followed the courtesan to the second floor. Huang became more aware of Constable Wu’s heavy step behind him. Just ahead of him, Magistrate Li was chattering about music.

“Our household employed an old musician who played the pipa,” Li was saying. “He tried to teach me once, but I had no talent for it.”

The magistrate was filling the silence with nonsense—this from a man known for being very skilled with words. They halted at a door midway down the hall and Mei met his eyes briefly, before lowering her gaze and stepping aside.

As he followed Magistrate Li into the chamber, Huang was very much aware they had gone directly to the quarters without any question or introduction. He also knew who typically entertained in these rooms. The sitting area was empty, but the curtain to the inner chamber was open.

Huilan was lying on the bed, her head thrown back.

Huang went to her. Her name caught in his throat, his head pounding while he struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. A faint hope flickered in him as he took hold of her wrist, but he already knew. He had known the moment he’d seen her. Huilan’s complexion was no longer moon-pale and luminous. It was colorless. The stillness about her went beyond sleep. There was no way to describe it, but he recognized the aberration of it immediately.

He sank down to his knees on the floor, unable to take his eyes off her. Her throat was bruised. Someone had ruined it forever. She would never sing again.

“She’s dead,” he said heavily, a part of him feeling dead as well. He’d just seen her that morning.

“You knew her?” Magistrate Li asked.

“Everyone knew Huilan,” he replied sharply. “She was one of the Four Beauties.”

The other two men were watching impassively by the door. Huang clenched his fists as anger heated his veins. They had known Huilan was dead and brought him there to watch his reaction. She’d been left alone all this time.

A knot formed in his chest. He was confused and horrified and at a loss for anything intelligent to say.

“Perhaps you should come out here,” Magistrate Li suggested quietly.

Huang nodded. He took one final look at Huilan. She was the youngest of the Beauties. Her cheeks were gently rounded, which evoked a fresh-faced innocence. The violence was all the worse for that.

* * *

“DID YOU SPEAK with Huilan earlier today?” Magistrate Li asked.

They were in the sitting room just outside the courtesan’s chamber. Huang looked up from his tea, which had gone cold. “At the Grand Canal during the race.”

Li nodded gravely. “She was so full of youth and beauty. Such a tragedy. Do you come to the Hundred Songs often?”

“Once in a while. Huilan sang the last time I was here.”

Huang ran a hand over his face. Huilan had been evasive that morning, but he should have insisted she explain herself. He should have never let her leave alone. He should have remembered the look of fear in her eyes when they’d first spoken.

“Were you her lover?” Li continued.

So this was an interrogation, then.

Huang straightened and met Magistrate Li eye to eye. “No, I wasn’t.”

“Well acquainted, then.”

Li was grasping at something. The constable came forward from his station in the corner and held out a folded paper. Magistrate Li looked it over before placing it onto the table between them.

“This was found lying beside Lady Huilan’s bed.” His finger rested over the red seal stamped onto the paper. “Is this your family’s mark?”

Huang knew what it was without looking. The paper he’d given Huilan was an official permit used to travel outside the gated wards after curfew.

“Did she use this to go to you at night?”

“I told you, we were not lovers,” he said evenly.

Magistrate Li stared him down. “How did Lady Huilan come to possess this pass?”

“She must have taken it from me.”

“Without your knowledge?”

His lips lifted sardonically. “I often drink too much.”

Huilan had asked for his help to leave the quarter. He often moved freely through the wards at night, one of the privileges of the aristocracy, and he’d assumed that was why she’d gone to him.

“Madame Lui can speak to the extent of my association with Lady Huilan,” Huang said. “The life of a courtesan isn’t very private.”

At that moment, the headmistress entered with Mei and a younger girl, two of Huilan’s courtesan-sisters. There were tears in the older woman’s eyes.

“Madame Lui.”

She clasped her hands around his. “You find who did this. She was like a daughter to me!”

Madame Lui had been a great beauty herself in her youth and remained a handsome woman now, despite the redness around her eyes. She sniffed into a handkerchief.

Magistrate Li came over from the sitting area and addressed Mei. “I understand that you were the first to find her.”

The young courtesan nodded. “We were entertaining a large party in the banquet room. Huilan was acting as hostess while I was there to assist her. Everyone was in a happy mood and drinking wine for the festival. After an hour, Huilan complained of a headache. She told me to play a song and keep the party occupied while she went upstairs to rest for a little while, but she was gone for so long I finally went up to check on her. The moment I opened the door, I knew she wasn’t sleeping.” Mei’s voice cracked and she buried her face in her hands.

Magistrate Li gave her a moment before continuing. “Miss, who was in the banquet room?”

“Commissioner Ma and a few of his friends. I...I don’t remember everyone’s name.” She looked helplessly to Madame Lui.

“They are all regular patrons who have come here many times,” the headmistress told them.

Huang wondered why the second girl had been brought in, but Magistrate Li didn’t question her the same way he had spoken to Mei. Instead, the constable went to her. Towering a full head and shoulders over the younger girl, he spoke to her in a quiet tone. She looked over at Huang and shook her head.

Li turned back to him. “I apologize for intruding, Lord Bai. You understand such questions must be asked. We must continue our conversation at another time.”

He bowed in kind. “Of course, Magistrate Li.”

If it weren’t for his lineage, Huang was certain he would have been dragged to the prison house. He started toward the door, trying to remember everything Huilan had told him. As he passed an end table he noticed a writing box lying open behind the vase. The brush had been set over the top of the case and the ink appeared fresh.

Li Yen’s voice rang after him. “Before you go, Lord Bai.”

He turned to see both men watching him.

“I should ask you where you were earlier this evening—as a matter of procedure, of course,” Li assured him.

“At the Lotus Palace,” he replied easily. “Conversing with the magistrate himself.”

“Yes, but I do recall you were a bit late arriving.”

“I had forgotten.” Huang faced him without flinching. “I was delightfully delayed downstairs. A conversation with a charming young lady.”

He had followed Yue-ying into the wine cellar hoping for a private moment away from the parlors and banquets. The plan was to be charming, to humble himself, make her laugh. But he had been mistaken about how he’d be received. Apparently, he was mistaken about many things lately.

“Ah, your alley cat?” Li recalled.

“Yes.” Now was not the time to play the fool. “The very same creature.”