The Jade Temptress

Mingyu tilted her chin up to meet his eyes, refusing to show any fear of him now. “Thank you for your assistance, Constable, but it won’t be needed. Unless you wish to arrest this child for being unfortunate enough to be injured by our carriage.”

“The boy is lying,” Wu repeated. “I saw him hiding on this very corner the other day, watching as you drove by.”

She turned toward the urchin. “Can you stand?”

Mingyu offered her hand, but the boy shook his head feverishly and struggled to his feet by himself.

A wagon carrying baskets of produce had to veer to the side while their carriage was stopped in the middle of the road. Mingyu ignored it and focused on the poor creature in front of her.

“Where are your father and mother?”

“You are very kind, Miss,” he murmured.

The driver snorted loudly.

“He’s luring you in,” Wu Kaifeng stated.

Funny that the constable would assume she was naive. Mingyu had grown up in this quarter. It was her domain and she wasn’t sheltered from the realities of the crowded capital. She knew what her life would have been if Madame Sun hadn’t purchased her and provided for her. There was the street or the brothel.

Maintaining her pleasant expression, Mingyu opened the drawstring on her silk bag and fished out a few coins to press into the boy’s hand. “Be careful, little one. Go home now.”

The little rat at least affected a slight limp as he ran off into the alley.

“He’s on the next street over now, begging coins out of another soft-heart.” Wu wasn’t smug or snide or superior as he said it. He was just as he was—hard and without emotion.

“No one has ever accused me of being soft-hearted, Constable.” She faced him to make sure she had his full attention. “I know that boy was watching me the other day. I also know he wasn’t the only one watching.”

Wu Kaifeng started at her insinuation, but recovered quickly. His expression became once again impenetrable.

Indeed, she had also seen the constable at the roadside stand, staring at her with something akin to interest. No, that wasn’t possible. More like a bird of prey sighting a mouse. Her pulse had quickened at the single glimpse.

“Of course, the constable must believe that he’s entitled to stare for as long as he pleases,” Mingyu taunted. “Everyone else seems to think so, as if I were a painting on the wall.”

“It’s difficult to look at you,” he admitted with a bluntness that stole her breath.

“Meaning?” she asked.

His gaze remained focused on her face, but an odd light flickered in his eyes. Reflexively, her hand flew to her throat before she caught herself. It was a bad habit, a show of weakness.

Curling her fingers tight, Mingyu let the hand drop to her side. “If there’s nothing else.”

She didn’t realize until she spoke that her throat had gone dry. She was almost to the carriage when Wu stopped her.

“There is—”

She turned around.

“—something else,” he finished, his speech off rhythm by just enough to make her uneasy.

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 recognize her as such. Mingyu preferred it that way. It was better for Yue-ying that she start her new life without the shadow of the past hanging over her.

“Tell her not to be sentimental. And to drink the tea I sent to her and...and take good care of her.”

“I will.”

They exchanged bows. Mingyu had been too long away from her guests already, but she took a moment longer to watch as Lord Bai retreated down the stairs. Her sister was fortunate to have found a good man to protect her.

There was a time when Mingyu had been young and vying for notoriety. She had dreamed of catching the attention of a gentleman like that, but she’d since learned that it was better to rely on her own skills for protection. Mingyu’s heart had left the quarter when her sister had left. What remained was her warrior self, which was more than capable of handling Lord Bai, General Deng and any man who sought to challenge or possess her.

* * *

“WHAT DID THE foolhardy Lord Bai wish to speak to you about, hmm?” Madame Sun sat back upon the settee and ran a manicured fingertip along the arm.

“You know how he is,” Mingyu replied absently. She busied her hands with stacking the teacups and implements back onto the tray. “This and that. Nothing of importance.”

Madame snorted. “He isn’t trying to redeem you like he did your sister, is he? He may be from a high-ranking family, but from what I hear, he’s failed to secure an appointment. He doesn’t have the money to afford my Mingyu.”

Everything was always a transaction with Madame. She was the headmistress of the Lotus Palace and foster mother to all the girls who resided there, which meant they were all indentured to her.

“I wouldn’t go with him even if he had the money,” Mingyu replied. “He is already married to my sister. Procuring me would only lead to scandal.”

“And you have more freedom here than you would ever have as a servant in a rich man’s house,” Madame added.

“Of course.” Mingyu was ever so obedient and practical. “Here we control our own fate.”

Those were Madame’s favorite words. She’d taught them to Mingyu just as she’d taught her how to play music and dance and look at a man in a way that would make him wonder. And want.

“A courier came by today on behalf of General Deng to deliver four bolts of the finest silk and a hundred taels of silver. A gift to the Lotus Palace.”

“Payment,” Mingyu corrected.

Madame Sun waved a hand, as if to say gift, payment, money—they were all the same. “He must be eager to see you. The Lotus will miss you while you’re gone.”

“How long did the contract specify?”

“At least a week, my girl. He must really be in love with you.”

Mingyu snorted, a mannerism she realized she’d adopted from her den mother, along with the same willowy figure, high cheekbones and expressive eyes Mingyu had become known for. The two of them were mirror images of one another in so many ways.

“The general doesn’t want to bother with the games of courtship, that’s all.” Mingyu reached to gather a stray teacup from the low table.

Deng Zhi was twenty years her senior. He had been stationed in the capital and an important figure in the previous Emperor’s court when Mingyu had first encountered him. She had managed to catch his interest at a banquet, but the general hadn’t bothered to court her with pretty words or gifts. He’d gone directly to Madame Sun the next day to negotiate an exclusive price.

“This is a good opportunity for us!” Madame had whispered to Mingyu as she guided her to the bed chamber where the general waited.

Always “us.” There was no Mingyu. There was Madame and there was the Lotus Palace and everything that Mingyu earned went to the house except for the personal gifts and small allowances she stashed away at the bottom of her wardrobe. It would be that way until she was able to pay off her debt.

“Wait.” Madame stopped Mingyu as she was about to carry the tea tray away. “Let me see.”

Dramatically, the headmistress poured the last dregs from a teapot into a cup and peered at the flecks of tea leaf. “You are about to face a decision. A great temptation.”

Mingyu sighed. “Mother.”

“If General Deng asks you to be his concubine once more, you must refuse,” Madame Sun instructed.

“I know. At least three times to drive the price up.”

Madame nodded with approval. “Good girl. But of course, we must make no mention of price. That would insinuate that we are open for negotiation. Let me be the villainess here. Your greedy den mother refuses to let you go.”

“Even though I hold him in the highest of regard,” Mingyu intoned.

“You think of him every day even though you know you must not,” Madame Sun suggested.

Mingyu had to smile. “Mother, you are a master.”

Madame patted her hair, visibly preening. “Experience, my daughter. Years and years of experience.”

Though they called each other mother and daughter, Mingyu never forgot the truth. She had a true mother once. Her birth mother had sold her and her sister for a small handful of coins. Madame Sun, her foster mother, would never let her go for so little. At twenty-eight, Mingyu had spent more of her life in the Lotus Palace than she had in the village of her birth.

“Is that your plan?” Mingyu asked somberly. “Once the price is high enough, you’ll negotiate a deal to sell me off to General Deng?”

“I would never do that!” Madame insisted fervently. Her hand was pressed to her bosom to express the depth of her emotion. “You’re mine, Mingyu. Like my own daughter, worth more than all the gold in the capital.”

General Deng’s payments over the past fifteen years had only bought Mingyu’s time, not her person. And Madame Sun had been generous enough to grant Mingyu a portion of her earnings, enough to finally redeem her sister, Yue-ying.

As much as Mingyu owed Deng, she had breathed a long, deep sigh the day he’d finally left Changan to serve as military governor in a remote province. Whenever Deng returned to the city, there was no question that Mingyu was to return to his side. She prepared for it as if preparing for battle.

“Do you wish to go?” Madame asked her.

“I would never leave you,” Mingyu replied, equally emphatic. She touched a reassuring hand to the headmistress’s arm. “The Lotus Palace is my home.”

Madame Sun regarded her with a sharp eye, trying to pierce through the illusion created by silk and jewels and powder. Perhaps they both lied to one another. Perhaps they both knew it.

CHAPTER FOUR

IN THE DAYS after his brief exchange with Mingyu there were no more visits, official or unofficial, and no more talk of dismissal. Kaifeng continued with his duties as prescribed, but remained on guard. When a scraggly figure appeared at the end of the street during his morning patrol, Kaifeng’s defenses were immediately raised.

The boy was panting when he came to a stop before Kaifeng. “Are you Constable Wu?”

“Yes,” he replied warily.

“Come quick.”

Kaifeng remained where he was, staring down at the street rat. The child would have to be a bold one to try to lure an armed constable into some trap. The boy paled beneath his scrutiny. “Please, sir.”

Kaifeng started toward him, but the boy turned to weave through the pedestrians.

“What is this?” Wu demanded, following easily with his long stride.

The boy shook his head and kept on moving, twisting through alleyways and side streets as he led Kaifeng farther away from the main market. Just north of the walls was a residential area dotted with small tea stands. They passed by a public bathhouse and a local temple on the corner.

Finally the boy came to a stop at a wooden gate. “Here, sir.”

It was clear that he didn’t intend to enter and Kaifeng once again considered the possibility of a trap. The gate was plain and unmarked. Kaifeng pushed it open to reveal a small, empty courtyard graced by a single willow tree. Its branches dipped to form a canopy over the space. The interior of the house was still and quiet.

Kaifeng didn’t reach for his sword, but he made sure his hands were ready as he entered the courtyard. The walking path was laid with stone and kept tidy. There was one entrance into the main part of the house and Kaifeng ducked beneath the doorway to find himself inside a spacious room.

Light filtered in from the courtyard. The first thing he saw was a desk in the corner, followed by a violent splatter of red. It took a moment for his mind to register it. Blood.

“I found him like that.”

He spun around at the voice. Lady Mingyu was pressed into the corner beside the window. Her usually sensual voice came out thin and strained. She looked entirely different from when he’d last seen her. Her lips had been tinted red and her complexion was moon pale in contrast, giving her an unearthly appearance. Even scared out of her wits, she presented a vision.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

She shook her head, though her eyes appeared dull. She clutched a silk handkerchief in her hand as if her life depended on it.

Kaifeng left her in the corner to approach the desk. At his first glimpse of the scene, his mind had receded. His natural instincts refused to accept or understand that what he was seeing was real, but he forced himself to look closely now.

There was a body seated in the chair dressed in a brocade robe. The head was missing and there was blood everywhere, splattered over the papers and staining the floor and walls.

“He was alive when they took off his head,” Kaifeng observed.

A gasp came from behind him. Mingyu was staring at him incredulously. Then her gaze returned to the headless body. If she could have disappeared into the wall, she would have.

“Do you wish to be elsewhere?” he asked.

A strangled sound escaped her lips, halfway between a cry and a laugh. Finally she nodded.

Kaifeng spared one final glance at the body, noting its position and taking quick stock of the surrounding items, before going to Mingyu’s side. He didn’t know if he should reach for her, but she seemed unable to move or look away. Taking a firm, yet careful grip on her arm, he directed Mingyu toward the door. After a moment’s resistance, she surrendered and went with him.

Once outside in the sunlight, her knees gave away. Kaifeng caught her in both hands. Mingyu’s soft weight momentarily sank against him, but she shoved him away to sink onto a wooden bench beneath the willow. He stood back while she struggled to find her breath. This was the Lady Mingyu he’d come to know—stubborn and determined not to show any sign of weakness.

“Who is that inside?” he asked.

“General Deng Zhi.” Her voice wavered despite her efforts. “He had just returned to the capital.”

“The general is your lover?”

She looked like she was about to break into pieces. “Not any longer.”

If what Mingyu said was true, one of the most highly ranked men in the empire had been killed not twenty paces from where he stood. He had to investigate the details of the death and report his findings to the magistrate immediately.

He looked down to Mingyu. “Did you send that boy to find me?”

She nodded, her hand trailing to her throat. Some of her color had returned, but she was far from composed.

“Do not leave this house,” he commanded. “If you flee now, I will have to consider you suspect in this murder.”

“If I wanted to run away, I wouldn’t have called you here,” she said irritably. Pressing the handkerchief to her nose, Mingyu presented him the hard point of her shoulder. “And I know that you consider me suspect, anyway.”

Her directness caught him off guard. If he knew anything about Mingyu, it was that she was unpredictable. After making sure she wouldn’t faint or lose her stomach, Kaifeng returned to the chamber.

He had seen death before. He’d witnessed it in battle as well as at public executions. The macabre scene was in many ways more shocking now than it had been on first sight. This time, Kaifeng noted the minute details he’d overlooked before. The body had fallen back against the chair and remained sitting. The neck protruded in a bloody stump. The headless torso seemed to be reclined comfortably in the chair, his last pose before leaving this world.

It was hard to believe a fighting man like Deng wouldn’t have managed to stand and defend himself in any way.

The blow had to have come from the front with the attacker facing the general. He noted the splatter around the chair and desk, and the lurid, metallic smell of fresh blood assaulted him. Gritting his teeth, Kaifeng walked around the desk and searched the floor. There was no head or murder weapon to be found.

Glancing up, Kaifeng could see Mingyu out in the garden. She remained on the bench where he’d left her with her head bowed. The position emphasized the graceful curve of her neck and the slenderness of her shoulders, making her appear vulnerable through the frame of the door.

Her robe was made up of shimmering layers of yellow silk and gold embroidery. The bodice was enticingly low, leaving her shoulders bared except for a shawl of the thinnest gauze wrapped around her. She had certainly come ready to visit a lover. His stomach twisted at the thought.

Her mere presence distracted him and he couldn’t allow that to happen. This was his duty and his calling and he needed to remain sharp to solve this puzzle, a puzzle that the courtesan was inexplicably a part of. A puzzle that Mingyu was making more complicated.

Kaifeng returned to the courtyard and breathed in the clean air, letting it fill his lungs and clear his head. Lady Mingyu didn’t raise her head even when he went to stand immediately before her. The pearl ornament in her hairpin caught his eye. A similar piece of jewelry had implicated her in another murder a year earlier.