Jin-mei searched along the floor for some sort of trapdoor. Next she searched over the walls, feeling all along the wood. Her breath caught when she found a raised edge in the wall.
It couldn’t be true. Jin-mei prayed that it wasn’t true. Holding her breath, she pulled the panel open.
The enclosure was empty, but Jin-mei felt no relief as she stared into the hollow space. On the ground, a dark mark stained the wood like a spill of blank ink. Her head tried to deny what she was seeing, but her instincts wouldn’t be quieted. Blood had been spilled here. Her entire wedding night had been an elaborate ruse, and no one was more deceived than she.
When it came to matters of commerce, Yang had a reputation for knowing who to trust and how far, but lately those instincts were failing him. He should have known it was a mistake to try to negotiate a deal with a crooked magistrate and an even worse mistake to return after the staged wedding to try to confront the villain. He’d only managed to get into the same room with Tan at the drinking house before being chased off.
He’d simply wanted answers, but apparently Tan Li Kuo was an even greater scoundrel than he was.
With his initial plan abandoned, Yang stood alone at the ferry crossing while the transport ship approached. For a river vessel it was an impressive sight: three masts with sails unfurled to catch the wind. The vessel was a floating fortress that had seen more than one battle in its lifetime.
The ship cut through the deep waters of the Min River and dropped anchor near the bank. Within moments, the gangplank was lowered.
‘Could that be the infamous Bao Yang?’ a female voice called from the deck.
A familiar face greeted him from the bow and he let himself breathe. He’d angered both a warlord and a magistrate and had precious few allies left. After ascending the gangplank, Yang was met on deck by the captain herself.
‘Lady Daiyu,’ he greeted.
‘Mister Bao.’ Daiyu was smiling at him, though her mouth was tight about the edges. ‘I hear General Wang wants you dead.’
She was dressed in men’s clothing; in loose trousers and a tunic that stopped short of her knees. Her hair was swept to one side, the black lightened to a reddish, rosewood colour by exposure to the sun.
‘I heard that you had been killed.’ A booming voice came from the other side of the deck. ‘I was ready to celebrate.’
A huge ox of a man approached. His broad jaw was roughened by a thick growth of beard and a scar cut near his mouth, making his grin widen to a sneer.
‘Kenji,’ Yang greeted curtly.
‘Yang.’
There was no cordial bow exchanged between them.
Kenji was a foreigner, originally from the island nation of Wa. No one knew exactly why he chose to never return, but it wasn’t hard to imagine he was no longer welcome in his homeland. Lady Daiyu tolerated him and he was one of the few on board who did not serve as crew. As far as Yang knew, Kenji knew nothing about sailing. He was kept strictly for protection and commanded a handful of fighting men. Lady Daiyu would be in an unfortunate position if that beast ever decided to try to wrest control.
Yang did spare a bow for the young attendant who stood dutifully beside Daiyu. ‘Young Miss Nan, are you taking good care of your mistress?’
She fought to keep her composure, though she was obviously pleased by the acknowledgement. ‘I try to, Mister Bao.’
Nan was slight and willowy, but her eyes held a warrior glint. She blushed at him with all the softness of a young tigress.
Kenji snorted. ‘Too bad you can’t charm the general.’
‘I seem to have lost my gift for it,’ he had to admit. He’d foolishly hoped Magistrate Tan would protect his family, but the truth was Yang could only depend on himself now. ‘Are you certain you want this fugitive on board?’
Lady Daiyu’s smile remained fixed even while her eyes hardened. ‘I have no fear of General Wang.’ She sent the girl and the hulking Kenji away, and her tone warmed when she faced him. ‘It’s been a long time.’
‘You’re still as beautiful as a spring flower.’
‘Sweet talker.’
‘I’m in trouble, Daiyu,’ he said in all seriousness. ‘I made a mistake.’
Daiyu was older than him, but her age could only be seen in the finest of lines along her mouth and eyes, barely visible unless one was allowed in close quarters to her. And Yang, at one time, had been allowed in very close quarters.
Pretty was too soft a word for her. She was nearly as tall as he was. Handsome rather than beautiful and as confident and at ease with herself in bed as out. She was also sharp and not one to waste words.
‘You used to be formidable. A shrewd and careful businessman. Never too greedy and always a step ahead.’
Yang knew where he’d gone wrong. It wasn’t in trusting Magistrate Tan too much, nor in making an enemy of a powerful warlord. He’d gone wrong from the moment he started letting emotion guide him rather than reason. Every choice he’d made since then had ended in disaster.
‘I need a safe place where my family can hide,’ he began. ‘One that Wang Shizhen with his entire army wouldn’t think to find.’
Daiyu frowned. ‘You can go into the mountains. The Wuyi region hasn’t fallen to the warlord yet.’
‘Yet,’ he echoed grimly.
The plan had some merit. There were many small villages and settlements tucked away in the remote region. Wang would have to scatter his army to find them.
‘It’s been years since I’ve spoken to my brother,’ he went on. ‘I’ll need to go to him and convince him to go into hiding. It could well be that the general knows my identity by now, and I can’t risk their safety.’
‘I understand.’ Daiyu nodded sympathetically. ‘Family is everything.’
At that, the lady captain offered to take him as far as he needed—for three times the usual fare.
‘You’re a true friend,’ he said out of the corner of his mouth.
‘Times are hard,’ she replied with a shrug. ‘And you’re trouble. You said so yourself.’
‘Lady Daiyu!’
The girl Nan was looking over the bow as she waved her over. Yang remained by Daiyu’s side as she went to investigate, standing perhaps a bit too close to her out of old habit. Much of the crew had known the two of them had been lovers and likely assumed he would resume that role, which wasn’t an unpleasant prospect.
Except he was married now and standing on the bank was his wife.
‘Don’t let her aboard,’ Yang said beneath his breath.
Daiyu looked at him with surprise. ‘She looks like a poor lost kitten.’
Jin-mei looked nothing of the sort. She stood with a travel pack slung around her shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair fought against its pins. His heart did a little lurch as their gazes locked. The hard set of her jaw warned him that he was in trouble.
This was no coincidence. She’d followed him. Immediately, he scanned the surrounding area. What could Jin-mei possibly be doing out here alone?
Despite his warning, Lady Daiyu beckoned her aboard. ‘Come up, Little Sister! What brings you here?’
Jin-mei was out of breath by the time she ascended the gangplank, but she wiped