He was the one who was difficult to look at. His face lacked any refinement. Wu Kaifeng wasn’t ugly—he was more like a puzzle that didn’t quite fit together. There was no harmony to him, no sense of balance. Wu was long in the face, broad in the nose. The eyes were black and hard and unwavering. A sharp jawline framed his hard mouth, a mouth that she had never seen smile. Yet when all of those features were put together, they created a picture that was inexplicably striking.
“Someone wishes to have me dismissed,” he began.
“What could that possibly have to do with me?”
“You do not like me.”
She didn’t disagree.
“Most of the people I deal with are people from the streets—beggars, thieves, the poor stealing from the poor,” Wu continued. “Those who are caught doing wrong do not dare to bear a grudge, but you—”
“I was found innocent,” she interrupted.
“Your actions were not condemned,” he corrected. “It occurs to me that many of your patrons are men of rank and influence.”
Mingyu laughed in disbelief. “You think I’m out to destroy you by complaining to my lovers?”
The corners of his mouth tightened at her mention of lovers and Mingyu felt a small triumph at being able to pierce his armored shell.
“You needn’t worry, Constable,” she assured, her voice as soft as the breeze. “You must imagine after all that has occurred between us that I stay up late at night, bearing a grudge and plotting your downfall.”
She continued toward the carriage, feeling his gaze on her the entire way. Once she was seated, Mingyu was able to look down upon him from higher ground to deliver her final message. “But why would I waste any time thinking of you at all?”
CHAPTER THREE
MINGYU HELD HER sleeve back with one hand as she poured the hot water into the bowl. Keeping her eyes lowered, she washed and warmed each of the porcelain cups before setting them back onto the tray. A group of four scholars watched her as she performed the tea ritual in so many little perfect steps, all in sequence.
She liked the ritual. For once, her parlor was quiet. There were no voices competing for attention; reciting the classics or a newly composed verse of poetry as they tried to emerge as the cleverest. For once, she didn’t have to speak, either. She didn’t have to smile or laugh or exchange furtive glances.
All she had to do was follow the ritual, concentrate on the breaking of the tea brick into the pot, the washing of the cups, the pouring of the tea. The ceremony was sacred to the scholar-gentlemen who frequented the Lotus Palace. They had all read the Classic of Tea and aspired to cultivate the thoughtfulness and meditative state that only tea could bring about. Wine was for the freeing of the spirit. Tea was for focusing it.
She placed a cup within reach of each of the visitors. There was a department head from the Ministry of Defense as well as a ranking captain of the city garrison. Though a soldier, he was indistinguishable here from any other gentleman. The remaining two were hopefuls seeking placement after passing the civil exams.
The men took their cups in both hands and drank in reverent silence. Mingyu folded her hands in her lap and kept her gaze lowered. She didn’t drink with them. She was an implement in this ritual, like the clay teapot or the cups.
She almost dreaded the moment the most senior member of the party would finish his cup and break the silence. It was easy being a silent fixture. Almost freeing.
“Ah, so serious!”
All heads turned at once toward the entrance. A figure had emerged through the curtain, handsome and youthful in appearance with his characteristic grin on his face.
“Am I too late to join?” Bai Huang asked.
“My lord.” Mingyu was less than warm in her greeting.
“Jinshi.” The senior patrons acknowledged him with a bow and the two hopefuls looked on in awe.
Even if they didn’t recognize Bai’s name, they recognized the significance of his robe. Only scholars who had passed the highest level of the palace exams were allowed the honor of wearing those robes.
Mingyu, for her part, was not impressed. She rose as the nobleman started to engage the officials in conversation. “Lord Bai,” she began, smoothly linking her arm around his. “Madame Sun is expecting you.”
Bai Huang laughed and made his apologies about stumbling into the wrong room as she led him back out through the curtain. That was one of the privileges of being yiji, an elite courtesan. The gentlemen of the quarter tolerated her impertinence. At times, they even revered it.
“You are looking particularly beautiful today,” Lord Bai drawled.
“As beautiful as my sister?” she replied archly.
Lord Bai had married her younger sister—her real sister—Yue-ying at the end of the spring, not long after the new slate of imperial scholars had been announced. It was debatable which was more shocking, that Bai Huang, the notorious flower prince of the Pingkang li, had passed the exams or that he had taken a lowly servant with no name to speak of as his wife soon after.
“That is impossible to say, Lady Mingyu. It would be like comparing the sun and the moon.”
Bai Huang might be an imperial scholar, but he was still a fool. Or at least he attempted to play one in the pleasure quarter.
“I know why you’re here,” she told him firmly. “It’s the same reason you’ve been hovering around me for the last year.”
“Like a bee to a sweet flower,” he recited.
She released his arm and shoved him the last part of the way into the hall. “Insufferable.”
He regained his balance with hardly any effort and turned back to her. His grin faded and was replaced with a serious expression. “Did Yue-ying tell you?”
“She didn’t have to tell me.” Mingyu stood like a sentinel blocking the passage back to the parlor. “I knew your attention had to have some other purpose. You were only here seeking information.”
His gaze darted over her shoulder to assure they were alone. “There are rumors about General Deng. If there’s any truth to them, you don’t want to be associated with him.”
“I’m already associated with the general. He’s my highest-ranking patron and a most kind and generous man.” There. She had even managed to say it without making a face. “I will not allow you to spy on him any longer, or on me.”
“I hear Deng is arriving in the capital tomorrow. Has he arranged a meeting with you?”
She regarded Bai Huang blankly, saying nothing, revealing nothing.
“If I could speak with him in private,” he suggested.
“Please forgive me, Lord Bai. I’m merely a humble courtesan, not capable of providing what you require.”
Her expression remained pleasant and unassuming, but it was an unmistakable challenge.
Finally Bai sighed. “Be careful, Mingyu.”
“I always am.”
“You’re not.” His sharp look reminded her that she had spent a long time underestimating him. “You’re not careful when your heart is involved.”
His words sent a pang through her chest. “How is Yue-ying?”
Bai Huang’s expression softened. “She’s well. She misses you.”
Mingyu shook her head. She didn’t want to hear of it. She and Bai Huang were now related by marriage, though no one in the Bai family would