Jin-mei bowed her head, her cheeks burning. ‘Father.’
At that, Yang turned slowly around to look at her, a deep frown creasing his brow. Having men draw swords on him didn’t shake him, but apparently what she had said struck him speechless.
An hour later, Yang was relocated to a private room at a local drinking house while the armed guards were sent away, tasked with returning the magistrate’s daughter home. For the moment he was left alone and he tried to use the opportunity to prepare some sort of explanation for being caught in a compromising position with Tan Li Kuo’s daughter.
Jin-mei, Tan had called her. The name was fitting. Clear like the ring of a morning bell. Audacious and impulsive Jin-mei, with her elegant phoenix eyes and her delightfully inelegant way of saying whatever was on her mind. Was it any wonder Yang had been thoroughly charmed?
She wasn’t innocent as much as she was without guile. Even the flush in her cheeks and the colour of her lips had been real, not painted on with rouge or gloss. Fresh-faced and quick-tongued. For someone accustomed to trickery, Jin-mei’s openness had bemused and bewitched him.
Maybe he had forgotten himself just a little in the park. He had a weakness for fascinating characters. Not just lovely, adventurous women, but for people in general. He’d been accused at one time of collecting people. Of keeping them handy for whenever they suited his purposes.
Yang straightened as Magistrate Tan entered the room. The other man closed the door behind him before seating himself across the table.
‘I didn’t know the young lady was your daughter.’
The steely-eyed look Tan shot him told Yang their long-time association was hanging by a thread. He wondered how many of the five punishments the magistrate considered exacting upon him at that moment.
Instead of slicing into him, Tan opted to pour the wine, though with a grave silence that was far from friendly. Tan Li Kuo was short in stature, with a sagging middle and a round moon-faced appearance that gave the impression of youth and ineptitude. As far as Yang could tell, Tan usually played down to that image.
Tan wasn’t playing any games at the present time. Yang swallowed and ran his hands over his knees as he searched for a way to salvage the situation. ‘About what happened—’
Ignoring him, Tan reached for his wine. Taken aback, Yang raised his cup as well and drank. At least they were trying to remain civil. The civility lasted only for a heartbeat.
‘What exactly were you doing with my daughter?’ Tan demanded sharply.
‘I was actually on my way to see you.’
The magistrate raised his eyebrows at that.
‘But there were guards about and I needed to remain hidden.’
‘So you lured Jin-mei into a dark and secluded area?’
Yang winced. ‘It was just the madness of the moment. Nothing happened, I assure you.’
Tan’s expression darkened at his feeble explanation. The truth was simple. Yang was a fugitive and Jin-mei had seen him. Coaxing her into hiding was preferable to either dragging her forcibly beneath the bridge so she couldn’t alert the guards, or fleeing for his life through the city. He doubted he would be able to convince the magistrate of that logic.
‘In any case, you shouldn’t be here.’ Tan kept his tone even. ‘I’ve kept your identity hidden, as promised. You should have disappeared into the mountains by now.’
Like a common bandit. Despite their alliance, the magistrate had never thought well of him. Tan was still an administrator at heart while Yang, for all his wealth and status, was an outlaw. More so now that he’d tried to murder a man with his own hands.
‘Wang Shizhen saw my face,’ he explained. ‘It won’t be long before he comes after me.’
‘You wanted him to see you,’ Tan replied calmly.
They had collaborated to assassinate the fearsome general at a private gathering. Though Magistrate Tan was a man of the law, he knew the best way to get rid of a tyrant was a quick sword through the weeds.
‘He was right in front of me. I had to do something.’
Tan stabbed a finger towards him in accusation. ‘You acted on emotion. That banquet was the only chance we’d had to do this cleanly and now that chance is gone.’
Yang took another drink, feeling the burn of it down his throat. General Wang Shizhen had wrested control of the northern part of the province where he ruled through intimidation. He and Tan had been plotting for a long time how to stop the warlord, but Yang hadn’t told the magistrate the real reason he wanted General Wang dead. A reason that went much deeper than personal gain or political rivalry.
That bastard had owed him blood. It wasn’t a moment’s impulse that had Yang sinking the knife into the general. It was a matter of family honour and a promise he’d made to himself as well as a cold and wandering spirit long ago.
‘Was it worth it?’ Tan asked quietly.
Yang regarded his accomplice. The magistrate was older and in many ways shrewder. He kept his secrets close and rarely revealed his intentions. Tan also preferred to remain safe in the shadows.
‘I wanted to look him in the eye,’ Yang confessed. ‘I wanted Wang Shizhen to know he was going to die and why.’
He had succeeded in sinking his knife into the warlord’s chest, but the satisfaction was only momentary. General Wang had survived the attack and would exact vengeance.
‘A mistake, my friend,’ Tan said with a sigh. ‘After months of careful planning.’
‘We’ll create another opportunity. Wang Shizhen has other enemies. We’ll find them.’
Magistrate Tan regarded him wordlessly, taking full measure of him with a keen eye. As the silence continued, an uneasy feeling gathered along Yang’s spine. The magistrate had already made things clear—this show of emotion was a weakness. Yang forced his hands to unclench.
‘I came back because I need your help. Wang has issued orders for my capture, but he won’t stop at that.’
‘I don’t see what I can do for you.’
Yang swallowed his pride. ‘I need your protection. Not for myself, but for my family.’
What family he had left. The war had begun. There was a time when General Wang had thought Yang was completely under his thumb, but now the truth was out.
‘We knew what the consequences were if we failed,’ Tan replied. ‘Your best option now is to flee. Get as far away from the general’s stronghold as possible.’
The magistrate was very careful with words. It didn’t escape Yang’s notice that Tan hadn’t yet answered his request. Tan Li Kuo had co-ordinated the attack through coded messages from hidden meeting places. No one aside from Yang knew of his involvement.
‘Are we no longer friends then?’ he asked warily.
The question itself was a falsehood. They’d never been friends. Tan was the most powerful ally he had, but he could also be a formidable enemy.
Tan held his gaze for a long time. Too many people mistook the lack of sharpness in his rounded features as a sign of dullness, but they couldn’t be more wrong. The magistrate used those assumptions to his advantage, often taking on a cheerful, careless manner, yet he made no effort to portray such an image now. A deep line formed between his eyes.
‘I am very disappointed,’ he remarked finally.
‘As am I. It was the difference of a finger’s length. Life and death.’