The Lotus Palace. Jeannie Lin
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The sound of chanting and the hollow tap of the prayer drum could be heard from the street. She and Mingyu had just reached the front door when a dark figure at the street corner caught her eye. Constable Wu started toward her, looming larger with every step until she was hidden in his shadow.
“Miss Yue-ying, if I may speak with you.”
She glanced over her shoulder, but Mingyu had already disappeared into the Hundred Songs to join the other mourners.
To her relief, Wu Kaifeng directed her to the nearest teahouse rather than the magistrate’s yamen, but it was difficult to relax with his iron gaze fixed on her. His height was exaggerated by his build, which was long and lean. His facial features were elongated as well, with an eagle’s nose and high cheekbones that tapered down to a sharp chin. He wasn’t an attractive man. He wasn’t entirely ugly either, but if she had to choose—she would say his face fit his position. It was an intimidating face, not one that evoked pleasant thoughts.
The server brought two bowls of the house tea and Wu gave her a chance to take a sip before speaking.
“I have questions about Lord Bai Huang. I understand you are familiar with him.”
It wasn’t posed as a question, but she nodded anyway. “Yes, sir.”
“He is close to your mistress as well?”
That raised her defenses. “Lord Bai and Lady Mingyu are no closer than the moon to the stars.”
“But he’s been courting her.”
“That’s what scholar-gentlemen do as a pastime. They ride horses, they compose poetry and they court beautiful ladies.”
Wu raised his eyebrows. They were black and as intimidating as the rest of his face.
She didn’t know why she’d spoken so cynically. It was possible Bai Huang was genuinely taken with Mingyu. She was exquisitely beautiful, with a dancer’s grace and a poet’s wit, and she made a livelihood out of captivating men.
“Why do you ask about Lord Bai?” she inquired.
“Our investigation into the death of Lady Huilan is hindered by one unfortunate fact: we suspect an aristocrat from a well-respected and powerful family.”
All the air rushed out of her. “But Lord Bai doesn’t seem to be the sort,” she gasped.
“Do you know many killers, Miss Yue-ying?” Wu asked pointedly, and it was a sharp, finely honed point at that.
She fell silent, but her mind was not at all quiet. Surely an affair between Bai Huang and Huilan couldn’t have escaped notice, but everyone had their secrets in the Pingkang li. His association with the House of a Hundred Songs could be more intimate than anyone realized.
“Bai Huang is the son of Bai Zheng-jian, a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Defense,” Wu said.
Yue-ying nodded. This was all commonly known in the quarter.
“Though the elder Lord Bai is assigned to a military post in Fujian province, the family maintains a household in the capital. I hear it told that Bai Huang only recently returned to the city, not even a year ago.”
He finished his report and looked to her expectantly.
“All I know is there was some trouble a few years ago and he was sent away,” she offered. “Something about gambling debts. I was new to the Pingkang li then.”
“Interesting. Anything else?”
The constable’s constant gaze unnerved her. She swore he had the eyes of a snake, never blinking.
She thought back to the previous days. So much had happened that month with the earthquake and then the dragonboat festival the week after.
“Huilan met with someone on the first day of the new moon,” she recalled. “A young man. He was on the bridge near the temple.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Did you recognize him?”
She shook her head. “I was too far away to see.”
He paused to consider the information, prolonging the silence for so long that she began to fidget. That day had been the first time she had seen Constable Wu as well.
“I didn’t pay much attention to Lord Bai’s exploits in the past,” she continued, feeling the need to say something. It was unsettling to have Wu staring at her. “He used to have a bad reputation, a reputation for being reckless, but when he returned, his reputation transformed into something more—” She struggled for a word. Wu Kaifeng waited. “Impulsive. Ridiculous.”
She felt bad speaking poorly of Lord Bai to a stranger. Constable Wu took a long drink of his tea and glanced downward at the remaining leaves, as if scrying for an answer.
“Miss Yue-ying, I am letting you into my confidence and you must consider this information very carefully. A young man who could not be identified was seen at the Hundred Songs the night of the murder. Lord Bai met with the courtesan earlier that same day. An item that belonged to him was later found in her chamber beside the body.”
A shiver ran up her spine. “But he was at the Lotus Palace that night.”
“That brings up another interesting point. Magistrate Li recalls that Lord Bai arrived late and uninvited to the banquet.”
“He wasn’t as late as it seemed. I saw him earlier. Downstairs.” She blushed, realizing how it would look to the constable. “And when he came up to the banquet, he sat directly next to Magistrate Li and started a conversation. What criminal would do that?”
“A bold one, for certain,” Wu said thoughtfully. “One who believes he is above suspicion. There was a scratch on his face that night. I saw it myself.”
“That was my doing. We had a...a disagreement.”
“That is not quite how Lord Bai told it.”
His tone told her enough about Bai Huang’s side of the story. She could feel her cheeks heating under the constable’s scrutiny.
Wu pressed on, “Are you certain he didn’t have that scratch when he arrived?”
“I’m certain. I struck him hard across the face.”
But she had hit him in the darkness of the cellar. She hadn’t been able to see his face clearly. Doubt began to creep in like a festering wound.
“I commend you for that.” He didn’t smile, but his eyes were unusually bright. “An aristocrat of Lord Bai’s stature isn’t easy to accuse. His father’s connections within the imperial bureaucracy are very powerful and Magistrate Li has warned me that we must step carefully,” he said with a touch of ire. “In the meantime, be wary of him, Miss Yue-ying. I know when a man is hiding something.”
CHAPTER FIVE
THE DEALER LIFTED the clay tumbler over his head and shook it while he chanted in a singsong: “Here, here, bet high, bet low.”
The final wagers were placed onto the table as the dice rattled around inside the tumbler. With a flourish, the dealer set the dish down, paused dramatically, then lifted the lid to reveal the numbers. The result was met with a few cheers, more groans, some curses.
Huang swiped a hand over his forehead and stared at the candle flickering on the table behind the dealer. It was an oven in here tonight and he was having a tough time of it. A runner came by offering a cup filled with what would have been called water if not for the few flecks of tea floating in it. He waved the boy away in irritation.
“It must be a lucky night for you, Lord Bai.”
Wu Kaifeng came up alongside him just as the dealer shoved a pile of coins in front of him. Huang stared at the cash warily before pushing it all back onto the table beside the character for “Low”.
He pasted on a smile before turning to